


IV: Holocaust

by Red Centurion (RedCenturionG)



Series: For A Better Tomorrow [4]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Adventure, Alliance, Aria's syndicate, Citadel Council, F/M, Genophage, Geth, Intrigue, Leviathans, Liberation of Rannoch, Living prothean, ME3 Cerberus, Peace, Reaper War, Reapers, Retake Omega, Romance, Second Morning War, Second War for Omega, Talimance, Tragedy, United Galactic Confederacy, Violence, War, War To End All Wars, World-building saga, clone, plot heavy, unity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-16 08:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 85
Words: 1,236,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18518200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCenturionG/pseuds/Red%20Centurion
Summary: The Reapers are here, and the war has finally begun. All sentient life in the galaxy is depending on Shepard to save them. And he will have to assemble the largest military force in galactic history to save those he loves. He will make alliances with people he hates, but will create new coalitions thought never possible. This is the Holocaust. And how far will he go to stop it?Work was originally published between July 13, 2014 and September 17, 2018.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the six months since the Bahak incident, the Normandy crew, scattered across the galaxy, do their part in preparing for the Reapers.

**HOLOCAUST**

**PROLOGUE**

_December 9, 2185_

_2305 hours._

_Main Living Room, Vakarian Residence, Cipritine, Palaven._

_Garrus Vakarian, Hierarch Thotous Vakarian._

The room was dark, as it usually was at this time of night on Palaven. Only a dim light emitted from the lights surrounding the room, and they didn't add much to the already darkened interior. His sister, Solana, was asleep upstairs as she always was at this time of night, snoring away. His mother was still in hospital from her sickness, and he hoped the credits he had sent her way during his mission against the Collectors had helped. Now, here he sat.

The living room was quite spacious, with a carpet in the middle, and a fireplace on the right, but apart from that, it was relatively spartan. The walls were blank aside from the holographic photo frames representing the family, with his mum and dad, Solana and himself. The sofa sitting on the left was boring and plain, and hardly what you call soft, but yet again, turians didn't believe in softness; they believed in hardness. That's what the military was. There, sitting on the sofa, was Thotous Vakarian, Hierarch of the Hierarchy of Palaven and the Spirit of Talos, and one of Primarch Fedorian's best friends. He sat there in a basic robe that covered his torso and thighs, with a glass of turian ale in hand. Garrus sat opposite him on a seperate chair, a glass of similiar substance in his own three-fingered hand, the turian finally managing to wiggle his own way out of his armor, and into casual civilian clothing; not that it was attractive. Solana herself had said as much.

His father sat there, mulling over the words he had just been forced to digest. Garrus hadn't known what to say when he first came home, as the loss of the Normandy and Shepard and the rest of the crew was still on his mind, along with his seperation from Tali, and most of all, Kasumi. But he had managed to recover from his moping, and managed to eventually get his dad alone tonight, and right there and then, he told Thotous everything from the very beginning; how he met Marcus, their campaign against Saren and his geth. The revelation of the Protheans' true fate. The Reapers. The Battle of the Citadel. Shepard's death. The battle against the Collectors. Working with Cerberus. Destroying the Collector Base. Defeating the Shadow Broker, and the destruction of the Bahak System that lead to him coming home. By the time he was done, he had given his father his entire life story up until this point.

And he sat there, letting it all sink in. Garrus didn't even know if he would believe him; it was alot to take in. The sheer prospect of an alien race coming to bring complete annihilation upon all galactic life was pretty hard to imagine, but Garrus had made a promise to Shepard to raise as much help as he could; why not start with his dad, a friend of the Primarch's, and of high position on the Hierarchy?

A click of his mandibles, and Thotous turned towards his son, eyes glazing him over as he spoke in a hesitant tone, "Tell me Garrus. Do you really believe this? What Shepard has been saying?"

That question took him by surprise. Garrus didn't narrow his eyes or demand he spit out an answer, but he did shuffle in his seat, placing the glass he held on the table next to him, "Of course I do. Every word of it. I was there with him from the get go; I saw what he saw, and I know its real. The Council doesn't want to admit, and neither does the Hierarchy. The Reapers are very real, and they are coming. I promise you dad; I wouldn't be bringing this up if I wasn't absolutely certain that Palaven was in danger."

Another click of his mandibles, before he gulped down the rest of his ale and placed the glass on the table infront of him, nodding affirmatively, "Tell me son; when, in all of turian history, has the defenses of Palaven been breached?"

Garrus knew the answer to this one. It was a trick question; always was, "Never. Our foundation is strong, our people militarized, and our ships numerous. We are the military arm of the Council, and have been for centuries. Our defenses have never been breached, and the siege of Menae during the Krogan Rebellions does not count."

"Precisely," Thotous replied, his eyes now tinged with worry as his hands folded into his lap, looking at Garrus, "Now tell me; if the Reapers were to invade, what are the chances of our defenses being breached? Of Palaven...dare I think of it... _falling?_ "

Garrus gulped, already trying to imagine the fatalities in his head.  _Too many to count. Or comprehend. Enough to sicken you to the core, to make you lose hope. And that's exactly what they want. That's how they win._ But he knew the truth of it, there was no point in trying to overexaggerate their survival odds, "If the Reapers invaded Palaven en masse...dad, Sovereign by itself annihilated the Citadel fleet, and took out half the Alliance Fifth Fleet by the time it was finally taken out. If they attacked Palaven...our defenses...they wouldn't be just breached, they'd be overwhelmed."

His father gave a simple nod before moving to stand with a sigh, "Then this is most definitely very serious. A matter of high urgency. It doesn't matter how the Council views this, it must be taken seriously or their idiocy will doom us all."

Garrus widened his eyes as he too stood, posture straight, "Wait, you're taking me seriously? You actually believe me? You believe Shepard?"

Thotous exhaled, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing it, "We may have had our disagreements in the past, and most of them regarding C-Sec, but that doesn't mean I'm not with you on somethings Garrus. You're my son, and when you say something is going to happen, its going to happen. You said you'd leave C-Sec? What did you do? You left C-Sec, and became the damn Archangel. You don't bluff, which means the Reapers must exist if you're this desperate to get everyone to believe you. Vakarians are not crazy, never have been."

Garrus smiled, nodding, "Damn right."

Thotous nodded, motioning to the stairs, "Now you go get some sleep. You'll be needing it. You're coming with me to the Palaven Command tomorrow. Primarch Fedorian must hear of this. He will listen to me."

Garrus widened his eyes, stopping halfway to the stairs and turning around, "Primarch Fedorian? What do you actually plan to do?"

"Get something done, that's what," Thotous declared, "I don't care if I have to shove my talons up his ass, Fedorian will prepare Palaven. We have never fallen, and in this invasion, we shall be ready. Once I'm done with him, our navy will be rallied, our troops ready. And the Council will listen to us; even if that moron Sparatus has to have a tungsten shell shot near his ear for him to listen. Never did like him; spineless  _tadik._ "

Garrus merely smirked at that, thanking him with a click of his mandibles, "Thanks dad. I'm glad someone believed us," he could only continue smiling as he continued walking up the stairs, satisfied with that outcome.

**{Loading...}**

_December 21, 2185_

_1407 hours._

_Front Entrance, Cerberus Research Facility Sigma, Northern Hemisphere, Gellix._

_Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor._

Abandoned. Cold. Windy. Those three words perfectly described the Cerberus facility he currently stood before, the massive blast doors of the base a testament to its emptiness. He had come in hard at the landing pad with the kodiak he had commandeered, expecting a squad of commandos to have come rushing out to meet him head on, and he would have; shotgun in hand and blasting away. But there was nothing. Not a soul to be found. It creeped him out.

He had quickly advanced off the pad, feeling too exposed, and moved forward, his Scimitar shotgun in hand and biotics at the ready. The cold, high speed, snowy winds of Gellix chilled him to the bone as it slammed into his body, his light body armor's thermals nowhere near enough to battle it off, and he swore he could have died of hypothermia if he had stayed within its path for too long; luckily, he had managed to find the main entrance, and above it was shelter. Even here, the place looked just...empty. Like everyone had just packed their bags and left.

He approached the door, weapon aimed high. He looked at the security cameras above, and saw they were following his every movement.  _So there is someone inside...that or the cameras were left on, and they're simply motion sensing._ He gave a smug wink at one of them and quickly made his way over to the door, banging his fist against it. Quickly placing his ear against the cold metal surface, he heard the sound echo, but there was no response.

_Maybe the tip was off. Maybe this place has been abandoned._

He had only found this place because of a tip from one of his friends in the Corsairs saying that Cerberus was up to something in this base, and that Jacob should put a stop to it. Oh, he tried, but as soon as he got here, he had just encountered nothing.  _Not a peep. This place is empty._

He made a move to leave, but a female voice, hurried, but brave, spoke through the PA system overheard, causing him to whorl around, weapon raised in preparation, "Who are you? State your identity immediately, and your affiliation."

He frowned.  _She sounds worried. Something isn't right here._

"Jacob Taylor," he responded clearly, lowering his shotgun slightly as he edged alittle closer, "I used to work for Cerberus, but a particular friend of mine wasn't too pleased with the way things were run, and he quit, and so did I. I have no affiliation now; only that to Commander Shepard. And you are?"

There was no answer, only the creak and moan of the blast door slowly coming apart and opening. His weapon was up in a heartbeat, ready to fire if necessary. Loading the weapon, he looked down range and watched as an attractive young woman in Cerberus uniform appeared and stepped out, with numerous other Cerberus personnel behind her, numerous predator pistols and avenger assault rifles raised. He looked over the woman, examining her features.

They all wore the uniforms of scientists, as did the young woman currently before him. She wore a mat of raven black hair that reached to her shoulders, and her skin was the same dark-color of his own. She had hazel eyes and smooth cheeks, with ample, red lips. She was beautiful by most meanings of the word, and he found himself disarmed just by looking at her, slowly lowering his weapon as she approached, unarmed, and stopped before him, a smile of...relief on her face.

"Well, you're certainly not Cerberus," she said, stopping hesitantly before him, eying him. He noticed that most of them didn't seem to be on the soldier side of things, and not a single commando was to be seen. They wore Cerberus uniforms, but seemed to be more scared than anything, "Which means you're not an enemy."

That caught him off guard.  _Cerberus...an enemy? Maybe they don't work for the Illusive Man anymore? And judging by how scared they are, they seem to be on the run from Cerberus. Maybe...just maybe they have vital intel on their operations..._

He chuckled, lowering his shotgun completely and collapsing it, placing it on the small of his back, "No, I'm friendly. I'm sorry for the confusion here, but why are you wearing Cerberus uniforms if you're not Cerberus? And why are you hiding in one of their research facilities?"

She looked to the rest of the group, nodding for them to lower their weapons. She turned back to him, motioning for him to follow her into the base, and he followed, "We're not. Or rather, we were, until we broke away. This research facility used to be run by us, but we've...had enough of the Illusive Man and the way he juggles our lives around like they're worthless," once inside, the blast door began to creak and slide back together, and she turned back towards him with a shake of her head, "So we're...ex-Cerberus, I guess you could call us. Ex-Cerberus Scientists with nowhere to go. We're hiding here for now and were preparing to evacuate on the shuttles when you got here. The Illusive Man will find us eventually, and he will kill us all."

Jacob merely nodded, understanding the situation. It explained why the scientists looked so terrified, and why they seemed to be fearing for their lives. But Jacob knew that these people had to have had their reasons for leaving. Why else would they risk so much to escape Cerberus' yolk?

"Just why did you quit?" Jacob asked with confusion, "You had to have known this would be the Illusive Man's response."

"Oh, we knew. But we took the chance anyway," she explained, "The Illusive Man had us working on secret projects, but whenever one of us completed one, they'd disappear and we'd never see them again. We never knew what they were working on; cell confidentality in the case of being compromised or suffered a raid from the Alliance. Eventually we got scared. Too scared. Eventually we decided that we either try making a run for it, or we complete the projects and take our chances," she gulped, a took of fear on her face as she bit her lip, still looking at him, "We couldn't take that chance. Some of us have families; children and wives and husbands. So we took them, hid here and were moving to take the shuttles and fly out of here when you showed up. We had feared that the Illusive Man had sent you to demand an inspection, and when he found out..."

He shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I may have been the Illusive Man's go-to-guy back in the day, but like you, I chose to quit. What he's doing...its for humanity, not the galaxy at large, and that's not acceptable. No, I will not report you. What I will do is help you. Keep you eggheads safe," he said with a growing grin, and he saw the fear on her face melt from the sight of it.  _Yes, I will help these people. Just like Shepard would have wanted. What he would have done in a situation like this._

"You'll help us?" she asked, "Escape, I mean?"

He nodded, letting his hand fall from her shoulder, but his eyes lingered on hers before turning away, nodding again, "Yes, I'll help you. You people need protection, and I look like the only one with combat experience here, so I guess I'm it."

"But where will we go?" she asked, still unsure of herself.

He looked at her, eyes widening, "You haven't decided where you're going yet?"

She shook her head, "We were winging it until you came. We'd take a few of the shuttles and see where we'd end up. We were considering handing ourselves over to the Alliance; at least we'd be safe then..."

_Clearly you don't know TIM very well. He'd find you, no matter where you hide. No, you need somewhere he'd never suspect...a place so desolate and out of reach, he wouldn't even think of watching over it...and I know just the place..._

"I know a planet," he told her, moving up the steps with her in tow, a confidence in his every step, "A place that the Illusive Man won't even think of."

"Where?" she asked, but when he suddenly turned around and she bumped into him, he only held a finger over his mouth, telling her to be quiet.

"Can't tell you. Not here. Not with people listening. You may think you're all on the same team, but one way or another, one of these guys is probably a spy. A loyalist under the guise of someone terrified just so he can feed info to his real leader," he told her, motioning to another scientist nearby, who seemed to be picking up his equipment and just as quickly dropping them in his great haste to get them onto a nearby Cerberus kodiak. He turned back to her, nodding as he turned around to continue.

"Wait," she called out, and he stopped, turning to her, "You told me your name, but I never told you mine."

He smiled, shaking his head, as he crossed his arms, "No, I don't believe you did. So why don't we begin again; I'm Jacob Taylor, and you are, miss...?"

"Brynn," she stated bluntly, hands clasping behind her back with a smile on her face, back straightening, "Doctor Brynn Cole."

"Nice to meet you doctor," he said.

"Please, call me Brynn," she corrected, waving a dismissive hand, "Least I can do for asking you to help us."

"You didn't ask, I offered," he declared, uncrossing his arms, "But we'd best be moving. Time is not on our side, and by the looks of it, you have a lot to pack. Including people."

They both nodded affirmation, and moved further into the facility, prepared to begin a chase with Cerberus all over the galaxy.

And Jacob would do his best to keep them all safe.

**{Loading...}**

_December 19, 2185_

_1200 hours._

_Skyline Observatory, Talat, Gagujs Continent, Sur'Kesh._

_Professor Mordin Solus._

He stood there, overlooking the beautiful, lush green jungles of the salarian homeworld, Sur'Kesh, taking in its vibrant color and its serene smell. The trees seemed to stretch on for ages, only interrupted by the occassional house, skyscraper or street. Salarians weren't as industrialistic as most species were; they didn't let their cities dominate the landscape, and instead let nature have a part in it too; which is why Talat, the capital city of Sur'Kesh, was essentially just a few skyscrapers, some houses and a few streets amongst a horde of wildlife, trees and rivers.

 _Yes. Good choice coming here. Nowhere else to go. Will remind me of what I'm planning to do. Let me know the risks I'm taking with such a task._ He stood there, amongst many others of his kind, male and female, along with a few children, as he observed the luscious jungle from high above on the observatory's skydeck. The occassional skycar would fly by, along with the daily STG Mantis gunship on patrol, but overall, it was silent but for the sounds of the birds and the animals below. The sky was a brilliant blue, with clouds dotting it.

He still wore his trademark white labcoat, but his weapons confiscated by customs, which he had understood. But his equipment hadn't been taken away; and inside was a data disk containing Maelon's data that Shepard had ordered him to obtain during their mission to rescue Maelon on Tuchanka.  _Mere months ago. Hope Shepard alright. Good man. Glad he eventually convinced me. Or was it Miss Vael?_ He missed his quarian assistant as well, but he knew by that point, he was getting alittle too sentimental.  _Must not dwell on such things if I want to cure krogan._

Taking one final sniff of the air, he picked up his bag and was preparing to leave the skydeck, when he got a whiff of something. Inhaling and exhaling, he nodded, looking up, as if meeting a pair of eyes in the middle of nothing, "Ah, STG has tracked me down. Will have to better than cloaks however. Have dealt with master chief. Know cloak when I see it."

As expected, a hiss of static was heard, followed by a salarian in white combat armor appearing out of thin air, his vindicator battle rifle aimed at Mordin's chest, but now slightly lowering. All around him, he watched as what had seemed to be casual observers pulled out weapons and turned around, all aiming them at Mordin. As he turned to look at them, it turned every single one had been an STG agent.  _Ah. Have been tracking me since I left Spaceport. But why?_

"Very well done professor," one familiar salarian voice noted as he too dropped his cloak, ordering his men to lower their weapons as he turned towards him with a grin, "You haven't changed one bit, Solus."

A smile creased Mordin's face as he nodded, inhaling once more, "Ah, thought I recognized your scent. Commander Rentola. Pleasant surprise. Did not expect to see you here. Small galaxy."

"And an even smaller STG," Rentola chuckled, shaking his head, "But seriously Mordin, I'm surprised to see you back on Sur'Kesh. You and Maelon vowed to never come back after what you did on Tuchanka. What changed? And where's Maelon? Wasn't he with you?"

"Maelon and I had falling out in disagreement. Carried out brutal experiments for Clan Weyrloc. Wanted to end him. Shepard...disagreed," Mordin explained hurriedly, "Suggested starting clinic on Omega. Can only assume he's still there."

"Wait, Shepard? He's here?" Rentola asked, surprised, "The report we got from HQ only mentioned you. I think we would have noticed a human."

"Not here. Imprisoned. On Earth. Believed you heard of Bahak Incident. If not, its the reason why," the professor stated, before eying his would-be captors, "STG does not carry out abductions. Very unsalarian. Wouldn't need me for interrogation, not salarian style, more left up to turians. Wouldn't need me for combat expertise, Captain Kirrahe more than capable. No, you need me for..." the realization hit him instantly, "Ah. Need me to work for you. Predictable. Should have seen it coming."

Rentola shrugged, "I don't need you, I just shoot stuff. Its Padok Wiks who needs you; you know, STG supreme commander? Kirrahe simply relayed the orders. You're needed at HQ, but apparently its for a very sensitive matter regarding the krogan. Can't be good."

 _Must have gotten wind of attempts to cure genophage. Could be bad. Must not mention anything. Best to go with them. Could help, might not._ With a final exhale of breath, he nodded, "Very well. Will accompany you."

Rentola blinked, as if hit across the face, "Wait...that's it? You'll just come with us?"

"Yes, yes. Of course I will. No where else to go. Foolish to attempt escape," he declared, straightening his back, "Presume you have transport? Might as well get to it. Look forward to seeing STG site Delta again."

Rentola shook his head, "You're not going to Site Delta, Mordin. You're going to Site Alpha."

"You're going to the Special Tasks Group Headquarters."

**{Loading...}**

_December 30, 2185_

_1643 hours._

_Palace of the Republic, Armali, Lanecaa Continent, Thessia._

_Justicar Samara._

_I have done my duty. I have done all I can. The leaders of my people will not listen, and therefore I must find other ways of convincing them that the Reapers are indeed coming._ For Samara's words to have been rejected so suddenly and forcefully by her leaders had been surprising, as they had always listened to the wisdom of the Justicars, but apparently it would not be so today.  _Politics has blinded them. They will not see the truth, so it must be force fed to them. It is the only way. I will not allow innocents to die because of our foolish leaders._

Samara continued to move down the large, eloquent corridors of the Palace of the Republic, a structure that had been built centuries ago by the ancient asari of the Period of Silence; a period of asari history that involved the ending of conflict, and a unification of the asari people, beginning with the construction of the Palace of Athame, which later on, upon the formation of the Republic and the fall of asari religion, would be renamed into Palace of the Republic. And here she walked; moving through crowds of moving asari as she made her way towards the exit, the many politicians or just normal civilians looking at her as she went past, awed by the justicar moving in their midst.

She ignored them on her way towards the exit, where her skycar awaited her. She had checked on Jack, and she had visited her daughters, but after that, she had headed straight for Thessia. And that had been where she had been mocked. By her own people. She remembered their words.  _The Matriarchs of this Palace will not listen to the warnings of a feeble old woman who has been infected by common place propaganda. Leave us Justicar, before you words begin to infect us._ Samara had merely shook her head and quietly left, not wanting to incite conflict where it was not needed.  _Conflict is forbidden in the Palace, even for a Justicar._ But that did not stop her from thinking about it.

She was about to reach the entrance, as she now stood in a large, close to golden, atrium. Colossal walls towered around her, along with marble staircases leading up to the many different tiers of the building, which were many. She had been about to reach the large, equally golden doors when she heard someone call out from behind her, causing her to turn around. What she saw took even her completely by surprise.

Another Justicar.

This asari wore the exact same uniform she wore, but without the added bits on her face. Her face showed she was in her later Matron years, not quite a Matriarch, but still had the wisdom, discipline and experience that came with being a member of the Justicar order. Her cheeks were smoother, and her skin lighter in shade, and her eyes were a deeper hazel in color. And she even moved with more grace than Samara, if it could be believed.

The justicar arrived at her side fairly quickly after completing her sprint, but looked barely fazed, as if so used to it that she couldn't even lose her breath anymore. She came before her, and bowed, and as she spoke, her tone was of a lighter, less forboding manner, and reminded her eerily of Jack, "Justicar. It has been a while since I have met or spoken to another of my order."

Samara returned the bow, "The feeling is mutual, sister. And what may this warrior of the code be named?"

She nodded, a smile on her lips, "Justicar Ramalya, a pleasure Justicar Samara."

Samara raised an eyebrow, "You know of me, but I do not know of you."

The justicar named Ramalya merely nodded, bobbing her head in the general direction of the many court room of the Palace, "I heard the meeting; I had been positioned outside, and overheard. Samara, you bring many fables and tales to Thessia, but offer no proof but your own wisdom and oath to tell the truth."

Samara nodded, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again, her expression as cold and emotionless as always. It had been her reputation, "I had no evidence to give, only my oath of truth. That should have been enough. We spend too much time bragging about our superiority, when we should be using it to defend the galaxy. But in the end, our superiority will mean nothing in the face of the Reapers."

"Well, you've got one believer here," Ramalya said with a firm nod to her fellow asari, "Not all of us are idiots. I believe you, Justicar."

Samara raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Even after I fail to provide evidence?"

Ramalya shook her head, crossing her arms with a frown, "The Justicars have known you a long time, Samara. You're by far the most experienced, and the most wise. You don't say things unless you firmly believe them, and you don't believe in nonsense. If you believe the Reapers are real, I'm with you. The Justicars are with you."

Samara nodded, a look of appreciation on her features as she eyed the door before her, weary of what was to come, "Your faith in me is not without wisdom or guidance, Justicar. The threat we face is one of horrifying proportions. I have fought their leader...Harbinger...in combat before. Not in the literal sense, but as he controlled his minions. His force...his mere presence...it is of a magnitude of evil never seen before. I cannot explain it, for it is something beyond imagination."

"You've almost got me scared," Ramalya said cockily, clearly one of the newer justicars, "But I see what you're talking about. I don't want to imagine what these Reapers would do to our beloved Thessia. Our home. The asari people need to be prepared, and I believe you need to prepare them."

"Not me, no," Samara declared, shaking her head as she faced a startled Ramalya, "That is a battle for someone else. My task is to warn others. The innocent must be protected, and not just those native to my world. The whole galaxy must know. I will start my spreading this news through asari space, and then I will move on to Council space, and eventually the Terminus. As much as it loathes me to declare it, Aria T'Loak must be warned as well."

"Then it's up to me to warn the people of Thessia," Ramalya informed her, motioning to the door, "A task I can accomplish, and I will not be lathargic about it. Time is of the essence, you'll have us believe."

Samara merely shook her head as he followed Ramalya out of the Palace.

"No," she stated, "Time is something we no longer have."

**{Loading...}**

_January 2, 2186_

_1230 hours._

_Living Quarters, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_Marcus Shepard._

His quarters were small, and pretty quiet overall. On the left of the entrance was a set of observation windows that dominated the left side, giving a large and beautiful view of the Fraser River down below, with the cityscape of Vancouver rising up around it; tall, pale white skyscrapers reaching up and into the sky, with skycars flying past and an alliance frigate hanging in low orbit. Down below, scores of human life moved around, oblivious to the world around them.

A large, one-person bed was located at the end of the room, with a small desk next to the windows and a bookcase to the left of that. Empty picture frames dominated the right wall, and a small kitchen area next to it. Overall, it was small, and it suited his basic needs.

He currently sat behind his desk, elbows ontop of the table and head in his hands, eyes glazing over the city around him. The human life that flowed through its streets, the solace found in the gentle flow of the river below, numerous ferries and boats moving along its length. This had been his position for his entire stay here, and he rarely found himself leaving it.

One month and four days. That's how long he had been stuck in this room, and there was no end in sight. One month since the Normandy SR-2 was impounded, taken to an unknown location, no word from Joker or EDI. One month since he had said goodbye to his crew. One month since he farewelled his remaining squad. One month since...

 _God, I miss her. I can't seem to stop thinking about her. Just what is she up to up there?_ Tali seemed to be the only thing on his mind during these times; he missed her so much it hurt, but knew that had it gone differently, she would be in here with him, and he could not accept that, no matter how much he yearned to be in her arms, and the wounds that came from the destruction of the Bahak System still stung him too much.

She was mostly likely safe on the Migrant Fleet now, with Shala and Kal and Madi and Meru. Probably getting the quarians ready for the Reaper assault. For their Arrival. He smiled at that thought; thinking just how far his Tali had come. How she had started as a simple pilgrim, scared, wounded and on the run, and had become a competent warrior, skilled engineer and his loving wife. He wondered what she must be doing; probably thinking of him, as he thought of her.

Damn it, why did things have to go this way? I wouldn't be trapped here if it weren't for the Alpha Relay. Times like these made him which he really were a God. So he could have saved those three hundred thousand from their deaths.

He heard the door open, and he didn't need to turn to see who it is. He had heard of Lieutenant James Vega during his battle against the Collectors not too long ago. He was a competent marine with a set head, who had lost his squad to a Collector attack on the human colony of Fehl Prime during their relentless abductions of their colonies last year, and had been forced to destroy a Collector warship to stop it escaping. He had never thought he'd meet the man, but apparently Anderson thought he'd be perfect for guarding Shepard, and he had been right. The man had reminded him of a slightly more competent and veteran version of Jenkins, in a way. And far more muscular.

"Sir," James spoke, moving into the room, straightening his posture and snapping a firm salute as soon as he stood inside, "Commander, Anderson sent me to check up on you."

He sighed, turning to face James as he stood in the frame of the doorway, not returning the salute. The Alliance Court had seen fit to strip him off his rank as well, so he wasn't even military anymore. Commander Shepard wasn't a Commander. He took a bit to examine James' form again. The man had brownish/black hair that was almost formed in a mohawk on the back of his head, but not quite, and was lacking enough to be close to baldness. He wore a white singlet with his dogtags hanging out infront of him, unafraid to put his muscles on display. His jawline was firmer than even Kaidan's, and he had a look in his eyes that immediately told you he was a soldier to the core.

"I told you to stop calling me that," Marcus almost growled, but managed to work the acid out of his tone, "I'm not a Commander anymore. I don't salute you, you definitely don't salute me."

"Force of habit sir...I mean...Shepard. Besides, I don't care what Garrong says," James waved a dismissive hand, smiling, "You're still the Commander to me and most of the marines stationed here. Still, if you want me to stop, I will."

"Stop. Please," Marcus asked and James nodded, dropping his salute and relaxing his stance, "Now, just what does Anderson want to know?"

"Well...have you moved to go to the bathroom?"

That coaxed a chuckle out of Marcus, and he let the smirk melt from his face, simply shaking his head, "Don't be a smartass, Vega. Doesn't work well with you. Besides, Anderson will get the same update he got last time. I'm just sitting here, just looking out the window, just waiting. So the next time he asks for an update, I'll still be just sitting here, still just looking out the window, and still just waiting."

James sighed, shaking his head, "You can't just sit there all the time Shepard. You got to stay fit. Men like us can't afford to get lazy."

"I'm a soldier Vega. A man of action," Marcus told him, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his basic shirt, "A man of action doesn't take being locked up in a room 24/7, for a month, doing nothing, lightly. I crave for a weapon, and crave for an enemy to take down. Like the Reapers. Anderson shouldn't be surprised I'm just sitting here. With nothing to do, I can only think."

"About what?" James asked, but realizing how blunt the question sounded, quickly amended, "Well, I mean, if I may ask?"

"Don't be scared Vega. I don't bite," he laughed, exhaling as he simply stared out blankly across the river, seemingly talking to himself as he spoke again, "I think about my squad; what they're doing out there. I think about my crew, and just what I got them into. I think of Harbinger, and when he'll arrive, and when I'll know about it. I think of..." he trailed off, not expecting James to know what he was talking about, "...people I care about."  _Damn their no contact policy. Just the sound of her voice, a giggle, a smile or just the sight of her mask would alleviate my concerns. Let me know she's out there, thinking about me. I didn't think it'd hurt this much. And its only been a month._

"Yeah, I hear you," James replied, sighing heavily, "Hell, we all have concerns like that. But you can't dwell on 'em, Shepard. Got to keep active. No point you rotting away in here when you haven't gotten to rub the Alliance's faces in it yet. Or the Council's."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at him, "Rub their faces in what?"

"The Reapers. You know, when they turn up. And me and Anderson know they will. And Hackett. And all those willing to listen. They'll come, and you'll be able to rub their faces in it."

He didn't laugh. He didn't reciprocate the joke. He didn't smile, frown or scold him. He merely looked out the window blankly, the pain in his heart and mind twisting him to the point of insanity, where the loneliness almost tore him apart. Of course, if the Reapers could hurry up and arrive, he'd have something to focus on so he could ignore it. But he would find no such solace here. No, all he had was his thoughts. He was as vulnerable as ever to their onslaught. His thoughts were grim, and hinted at the darkness that was converging on them.

He sighed, "That's if they're alive when this is all over. If I'm alive. Or any of us are alive."

He thought of Tali, and this time instead of focusing on her absence, focused on the future he planned for them; a house, on her homeworld, with a clear view of the sea. He imagined himself sitting on the porch, arm wrapped around his suitless wife, with the sun going down as they quietly lay in each others embrace. He solidified it. Memorized it. Kept it stored away as thoughts for later.

It would be his motivation.

It would be his way to fight through the vortex of survival that would be the Reaper apocalypse.

**{Loading...}**

_February 7, 2186_

_1513 hours._

_The Arena, Liveship Rayya, Migrant Fleet, Sheol System, Hades Nexus Cluster._

_Captain Tali'Shepard vas Machina, Commander Igra'Trasp vas Machina, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Lieutenant General Kal'Reegar vas Machina, Major Madi'Reegar vas Machina, Chief Medical Officer Elan'Nara vas Rayya, Navigator Veetor'Nara vas Rayya, Captain Qet'Danna vas Rayya, Engineer Meru'Zorah vas Rayya._

She kept as straight a posture as she could, but standing was really becoming a problem for her. She had been doing alot of it lately, and hated it. For two straight months, non-stop, that's all she had done. Stand, issue commands, sleep. Stand, issue commands, socialize, sleep. Stand, issue commands, sleep. A continous cycle, and it really began to grate on her. She hated every second of it, and still she kept going. Because a special someone out there was depending on her; had put his trust in her.

She'd damn herself to hell before she ever betrayed that man. The man she loved so much and missed equally so that it was sending her insane.  _I'm not even allowed to visit him. Two months of not even being able to talk to him, let alone see him. I'm constantly lonely, and finding sleep is a bigger battle than commanding a warship._

She stood in the middle of the Arena, almost standing exactly where she had during her trial so many months ago; to think it had only been last year.  _I stood in this exact position, the Admirals passing judgment on me, my father dead, and my future husband by my side, defending me. And now I stand here, holding his child, now in command of my own ship._ Her promotion had been a recent development, and the Machina was one of the newest additions to the Migrant Fleet; a destroyer of human design, and not even that old; only ten years off the production line. It had a formidable armament, and had enough speed to even match the Normandy. She was a good ship, with a competent crew, and Tali was proud to be her captain. Kal and Madi were in charge of the marine detail on the vessel, and she was glad to have friends by her side. But the ship wasn't the Normandy. And it would never be home. And not for Junior either.

She looked downwards, hands still clasped behind her back as she saw the slight bulge on the belly of her suit. She was two months pregnant with Marcus' child, and was captaining a ship whilst doing it, while also worrying excessively about the father. And her consumption of nutrient paste had been phenomenal, almost to the point where she had selfishly ordered more food supplies brought to her ship. But she knew it was because of the pregnancy, and because of that, it was forgiven. Besides, it was the talk of the Fleet.  _How did she manage it? Is that Marcus' child, or another quarian's? How is that even possible? Will it be ugly? Will she survive the birthing?_ So many questions, and Tali had only ignored them all.  _I miss Marcus, but I will protect this child and nurture it. At least that'll distract me from the pain of his absence...can't imagine what he's going through. Keelah, he doesn't even know that he has a son/daughter being formed in my belly..._

Turning away from her stomach, she faced her XO, Igra of Clan Trasp. When Tali had first been introduced the woman, her impression hadn't been all that great. She was cocky, prone to making fast decisions and wasn't very well known for following orders. But she did have an impressive military record; six successful marine ops, and she had a confirmed 152 geth kill tally, five of them being geth primes, to her immense disbelief. Even killed a Colossus, if rumors could be believed. But that was the problem with Igra; she was a marine to the bone, and had little to no experience on how to command a warship, and wasn't used to following orders. Which is why her sudden change from Marine Corps to Navy, and her jump to Commander, and been a hasty choice on the Admiralty Board's part, but necessary.

Igra had grown on her though. She was smart, heavily sarcastic, and good to talk to. She wore the Indigo veil of her clan, and her marital status was single; she hadn't married, or had many relationships. The idea of children annoyed her, she wasn't afraid to overexaggerate her skills as an officer, and overall, she was quite cheeky. And by cheeky, she meant exactly that.

Tali had heard the rumors that Igra was...not of the usual sexual preference. To be blatant about it, she was sexually attracted to her own gender, not men. She had been approached by multiple suitors, all of which she rejected, but it had been rumored that on her pilgrim, she had gone to a brothel and had lay with a turian whore. Igra never confirmed those rumors, but she wasn't afraid to admit to being of that attraction area.

Just yesterday Tali had been talking to Igra while on her way to her quarters. Before entering her quarters, Igra had slapped Tali on her buttocks, causing her to spin around with a blush but also a glare. After telling her that she was married, Igra had said 'I know that, sweetcheeks. But that doesn't stop me from complimenting a beautiful body when I see one. You're sexy, and that man's lucky. Besides, I wasn't being serious. Lighten up' before leaving. Even now, she found herself anxious of the space between them.

Looking away from Igra, she saw everyone else was here. Kal. Madi. Veetor. Elan. Meru. And all the admirals. She had received the call this morning; she had been summoned by the Admiralty Board to the Rayya. Today was the day the new Admiral was announced, and Tali was surprised that they had summoned her to speak with them that day. Shouldn't they announce the Admiral first? But in the end, it didn't matter to Tali. She just didn't care.

Once the meeting was called to order by Gerrel, he then turned to her, "Captain Shepard of the Machina, please stand forward with your XO."

Tali nodded, moving up to stand infront of the podium, Igra at her side. The XO gave her a nod, arms crossed and leaning on her hip as she turned to the Admiralty Board. Tali almost snickered as Daro noticed Igra's leering look, followed by the latter's shake of the head and a wink, which obviously caused said admiral to silently fume. Getting her mirth under control, she assumed a professional pose, and faced Admiral Gerrel.

"I have been summoned Admiral Gerrel, although for what I cannot acertain," Tali declared, looking at all four of the admirals, "I believed that the vote for the new admiral was being decided today."

The admirals looked at each other, Daro obviously shifting uncomfortably, with Shala only looking at Tali, and Koris shifting hesitantly. Gerrel seemed to only radiate confidence as he spoke, "We are, Captain. The votes have come in, and the people have decided. The new Chief of the Admiralty Board will now approach the podium."

Silence followed, and all eyes looked at Tali. She turned to look through the audience stands to see if the new admiral would step forward, but noone did. Where was he? Or she? Was the new admiral?

"What are you waiting for, Tali?" Gerrel asked finally, and her eyes locked onto him, realizing in an instant as her eyes widened in shock, "Step forward, Admiral."

Her professional posture almost slumped, but she maintained it in the face of her shock. She couldn't believe it; she...she was the new Admiral? Not only that, but the new  _chief_ of the Admiralty?  _The entire Migrant Fleet...its fate, its safety, literally rests in my hand...Gerrel, Xen, Raan, Koris...all of them...under my command..._ The mere idea was almost too much for her to take, but she couldn't keep them waiting. She would look weak.

She took her first hesitant step off of the podium, followed by a second, and then a third. Her fourth took her on a journey to the stands where the Admirals stood. Gerrel, no longer Chief Regent of the Board, retreated to his old position of standing on the forward stand in the middle, with Koris next to him, and Xen and Raan behind him. Behind them stood a single, individual stand; one that stood high above all of them; and that was her place.  _This is too much...an entire people...17 million of my people...their lives are in my hands..._

She almost couldn't do it. She almost fell apart, right then and there. But then she remembered Marcus. The burdens he had to carry. Trillions of lives resting on his shoulders, and all he asked was for his wife to lift some of the weight off of him.  _A mere 17 million is nothing compared to the trillions out there...he is my husband, and I must carry this burden with him. But this is my entire people..._

Her steps became longer strides, more confident, full of determination, precision and dedication. When she finally came to stand on the high podium, she found herself standing before an entire audience, and she was their focus. Their leader. She answered only to the Conclave; apart from that, she ruled. She was their military figurehead. Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina, the leader of the quarian race.

_I will not fail you, Marcus. I love you, but now our child needs me. My people need me. The galaxy needs me._

_I will make you proud of me._

Her posture straightened, hands clasping behind her back and eyes searching the audience, watching as Igra came to sit in the audience once more. Her lips were set in a firm line, and if anyone could see her eyes, they'd only see cold. A cold Marcus had shown her on the day he told her to leave him. It was the same cold she'd use today. She would be everything the quarian race needed her to be. She watched as Shala, Han, Daro and Zaal all saluted to her, followed by the entire audience as they all stood up, waiting for her speech.

"We are a proud people; never forget that, my fellow quarians. It does not matter what the galaxy thinks of us; in the end, they are inconsequential. What truly matters is that we are a family; a community, bonded and strong against all of those who oppose us. We may not have the technology, or the weaponry, but we have the spirit. One man, my husband, told me that spirit is all that's needed to win a war. If one thousand men believe they can win, they will defeat an army 20 times their size. Loyalty, Dedication, Spirit. Three words we quarians live by in our everyday lives. We are not weak. We are not pathetic. We are not suit-rats, and we are not meek. We are strong. The quarian people did not got quietly into the night when the geth took our home from us, we did not die. We survived. We pesevered. And we will do the same again. Under my command, our Fleet will survive. And we will fight the oncoming darkness. The threat that looms on us all. And when the Reapers come, the races of the galaxy will look to the quarians, look to the Migrant Fleet, and say that we saved them. That we had a part in this galaxy's salvation. That we destroyed an enemy that only exists in nightmares. That we were strong. As your Admiral, I will lead our people to victory! TO VICTORY! KEELAH SE'LAI!" Her voice rose in crescendo, and by the end, she was almost screaming.

Every quarian in the room shouted in return, and Shala could only watch on in awe, while Gerrel joined the ruckus. Koris was flabbergasted, and Daro, as always, was largely unimpressed. It mattered nill. They answered to her now, and her alone.

Tali'Shepard vas Machina would lead them to victory alright.

But not a victory behind the Perseus Veil.

But a victory against an enemy that converged on them even now.

**{Loading...}**

_February 8, 2186_

_0940 hours._

_Clean Room, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Migrant Fleet, Sheol System, Hades Nexus Cluster._

_Lieutenant General Kal'Reegar vas Machina, Major Madi'Reegar vas Machina._

Both of them just lay there, hands laced together. They lay naked under the sheets, having just had a vigorous session of love-making. The day had been long and full of work, and both of them were still awed by Tali's speech the other day. They were honored to be serving under the command of the Chief of the Admiralty Board, and especially one they knew as a friend. Tali had even, despite her sadness, attended their wedding not long after the Bahak Incident. They had even coaxed a chuckle out of her.

The room was quiet but for the sounds of their light breathing. Neither of them spoke, merely looking up at the ceiling, hands looping and just relishing the feel of each others' skin. It wouldn't be long before they had to climb back into their suits, but they could at least enjoy this moment alittle longer. They tried to only think of each other, but memories of Tali's speech continued to lead them both to thoughts of the Reapers. And that ruined the moment.

Fear. It gripped them both. They had no idea what to expect when they finally arrived. When they came to begin a campaign of galactic genocide. The very thought shook him to the bone, and he felt Madi shiver next to him, digging her head deeper under the crook of his neck, and he only tightened his grip around her. Neither of them wanted to die, but they both knew it was a strong possibility when it came to a war of this magnitude. They both accepted what could happen. They came to terms with it. Or so they had thought.

Finally, he spoke, "Madi, I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But we can't keep doing this."

Madi's response was muffled, and only he could hear the words, "I'm not scared, I'm terrified. We both saw what Harbinger was back on that asteroid, and we both saw those two Reapers before entering the relay. They were gigantic, and their words seemed to speak to my very soul. How do we fight thousands of those things, let alone one? What hope do we have of surviving that?"

Kal looked down at her, sighing heavily as he stroked her reddish hair, "I'll be honest with you Madi; our survivability odds are pretty low. I'm not even sure we'll survive this war. One of us might die, both of us might die. That's war. All we can really do is count the days we have left until then."

He felt her warm lips on his exposed neck, before she pulled back, "Don't say that. The thought of losing you torments me at night, I don't need it from you. What I need to know is that we'll survive this damn war. That we won't let the Reapers kill us. That we'll go back to Rannoch, build a house and have children. I've always wanted a child, a son, a daughter, of my own. But it won't be worth it if you're not there."

There was a sadness in her eyes, and it hurt him to see it, but there wasn't much to stop it except to lie to her, and he wasn't going to do that. Not to her, "I dream the same for us, Madi. A life without the burdens of the marines or the Reapers or the Geth to worry about. Its a life I've been personally fighting for. But its about time we acknowledge the possibility that we might not survive to get there. So, for now, we must merely see it as a dream, and make no promises to each other. I will fight my hardest to see you on the other side, but I've come to terms with the fact that I might die. That I might lose you. I still love you, I always will, but I know fate when I see it. Now we must only concentrate on the battle ahead of us, the fight that is coming. That is where we are needed."

She looked him in the eyes, nodding slightly as she brought her forehead to lean against his, "You're right, and I will always love you too. For now, let us concentrate on this moment," she leaned in, locking her lips with his briefly, before breaking off slightly, "Let us continue making some memories. Moments to remember."

He nodded, and he brought his mouth to hers, letting them mold together. Quickly, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over, continuing the kiss.

They would create as many happy memories as they possibly could.

**{Loading...}**

_February 11, 2186_

_1734 hours._

_Class Room 6C, Ascension Program School Block, Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula._

_Subject Zero Jack, Senior Program Coordinator Kahlee Sanders._

Jon Grissom Academy; home to every human child or adult born with biotic gifts, where they trained to use their powers for the greater good, whilst others came here as a early preparation for life in the military. It was founded in the name of Rear Admiral Jon Grissom, who had been one of the first human to commit to deep space exploration after the discovery for the Mars Archives and the mass relays. Now the Academy sat in orbit over Elysium; one of humanity's richest colonies.

And here she stood, in an Alliance facility, not Cerberus...doing what exactly? Become a student? Like she needed to learn to harness her abilities...Samara had done enough of that...

_They offered me a place here after I recovered back on the Citadel. They offered to let me teach her. To be a teacher. To train them. The Alliance recruited me...but why? Fucksake, I don't even know why I'm here._

She had been forced to put a jacket on before reaching the station, Kahlee telling her that the children here did not need to see her almost totally naked. Jack had begrudingly listened, and had also donned a pair of shades, before they landed and she picked up her bags. She couldn't say she missed the Normandy, but it definitely seemed more like home than this shithole... _why am I even fucking here? I should just leave._

They eventually arrived in one of the classrooms, where her entire 'intended' class was assembled, their ex-teacher, Rebecca Deck, standing beside them. Kahlee had simply stood back and watched as she looked over them, looking at their faces. Most of them looked to be teenagers, with a few looking to be in their 20's.  _They want me to teach these kids? What part of my dossier said 'works well with children?' I'm a fucking psychotic biotic bitch, not a goody-good teacher. I don't teach at all; I just blow shit up._

She had constantly asked herself why she was even here. As they left the Citadel, as they arrived at Elysium, and as they boarded the station; every inch of the way, she had questioned why she was even here.  _I could be hunting Cerberus down. Find the Illusive Man and give him a face full of my fist. I'd tear him apart, followed by the rest of his fucking organization. That's what I do. I kill. I'm a murderer. I was a convict for a reason. And now the Alliance wants_ _ **me**_ _to teach a bunch of kids how to use their biotics. What a joke._

It was then that what Samara said came to her mind. The asari justicar had visited her bedside when she was still stuck in Huerta, and it was from her that she learned of the Bahak Incident, and Shepard being arrested; the Normandy impounded, and the crew split.  _Bloody boy scout, always playing the good guy._ But Samara also told her that she had to be stronger than she was now; she had to be better. She had to break free of the bonds of the prison of existence she had created for herself, and choose a better life. Make a difference.

In the end, that's probably why Jack did accept the invitation to begin with. To follow Samara's wisdom. Choose a better life. She could put her insanely powerful abilities to better use in teaching other kids how to harness theirs. She would learn what leadership tasted like.  _But that isn't fucking me. Why should I..._ The Reapers. Samara had said that Shepard wanted all of them to find their own ways of preparing the galaxy for the incoming threat, and Jack knew that recruiting as many biotics, human biotics, as possible would help the war effort. This would be her way of helping.

She once again evaluated the group of students before her, smoothing a hand over her hairless scalp. She puckered her plump lips, and spoke, trying to keep the acid out of her tone, "So, you're the kids I'm going to teach?"

"They are ma'am," Rebecca spoke, "All yours. And what is your name?"

Jack looked at her, glaring at her.  _I hate it when people do that._ She quickly wiped the glare from her face, and spoke, although her words were so reluctant that she may as well have been forcing herself to breathe, "Jack. Just Jack."

"Jack?" Rebecca repeated unsmiling, but she could see and hear the other students sniggering to each other, "Isn't that a boy's name?"

 _I hate it when people_ _ **ask**_ _that,_ "Maybe I don't care. Maybe, as far as I'm concerned, its a unisex name. Now, if we're done with the introductions, can we get to the training?" she glared at the students, who all seemed to melt under her gaze. Her glare turned into a smirk, liking the fear she struck into them.  _They will respect me._ "I'm ready to bash some heads together, see how you all tick."

"There will be time for that later, Jack," Kahlee assured her, motioning towards the exit, "Would you not like to be shown to your quarters?"

Jack rolled her eyes, nodding before turning back to the students and giving them an evil wink, which caused them to turn away as Rebecca herded them away. Jack turned back to the door just as Kahlee opened, but gave them her parting words, "See you later, you little shits."

Upon hearing the door close behind her, Jack moved down the corridor towards the living quarters, with Kahlee at her side, who seemed to be giving her annoyed looks. Sighing exasperatedly, Jack turned to give her an earful, but Kahlee had already turned away, speaking, "We're going to have to set some ground rules, Jack, and first of them will be no cussing. No curse words around the children. We expect a manner of professionalism here, and you will abide by it."

"Could luck with stopping me," Jack grinned, "Cursing is my style, and old habits die hard, bitch. Might as well get used to it."

Kahlee only smiled in return, "Oh, we'll see Jack. We shall see."

Jack only shot her a withering glare before turning back, moving through another door and continuing their progress to her quarters. She exhaled once more, closing her eyes.  _I'm going to hate it here. But for some reason, I feel like I'm going to like it too._

It was the same feeling she had when she joined the Normandy.

**{Loading...}**

_March 5, 2186_

_1501 hours._

_Throne Room, Urdnot Camp, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Chieftain's Adjutant Urdnot Wreav._

Wrex roared, long and loud, and his voice carried through the entire camp, raining silence down on it from above. It echoed off stone, and walls and dirt, silencing all with its call. Krogan turned around, males and females, and the varren's barking ceased. Heads turned, roaring stopped, and all eyes landed on him as he stood upon his throne, looking down on all of them with a blood red gaze. He grinned a large smile, one that filled his halls with promises of bloodshed and combat.

"Brothers and sisters!" Wrex boomed, his voice once again echoing through his halls and ringing in the ears of the thousands upon thousands of krogan assembled before him, "Today is the day I inform you of a great awakening! The galaxy needs us once again, but this time, we will fight of our own accord, not because they want us to! Today we fight, not for them, but for our own survival! A darkness converges on Tuchanka, and Kalros demands we answer it with the light of our guns!"

Wreav mumbled something under his breath, but a sharp glare from Wrex silenced him in an instant.  _Gutless worm._ He turned back to the crowd before him, "We fought the rachni and we fought the turians! The galaxy believed them to be powerful foes, but we stomped them into the dirt! We destroyed the rachni! We almost annihilated the turians! But now, we face the greatest, and most worthy, enemy of them all! The Reapers are coming! They bring with them armies of their mechanical servants, and their very body stands taller than the biggest dreadnought! Were our ancestors still alive today, they would spit on them, and ground them into dust with their warships! But they do not! No, today we will prepare to secure our future! To show those almighty, arrogant pyjaks just what the krogan can do!"

"Lies! All of it!" one large krogan declared from the middle of the front of the crowd, and Wrex's eyes landed on him immediately, "You're nothing but an alien appeaser! You follow the words of a lunatic! The Reapers do not exist! They are a myth fabricated by Arterius! We will find no glory! And even if they did exist, the genophage still afflicts us! We could not hope to replenish our numbers fast enough to go to war! What you suggest is folly, and that's only if they exist! Which they do not!"

 _Another narrow-minded fool._ "It is varren like you who have kept our people tied to this planet for centuries. This...wasteland. Kalros would have us go higher up the ladder, but you would rather chop it down to stop us from reaching the top. Fools like you use the genophage as a progaganda tool and an excuse to stick to our pathetic ways! This is a chance to redeem ourselves!"

"Let these 'Reapers' wipe us out!" the krogan called, gathering a few roars of support, but not many, "The genophage is already doing that already. And you will only quicken it."

"As will the Reapers pyjak," Wrex roared, "The Reapers will descend upon our home, and they will slaughter us. Better to fight in the promise of a future than to die meekly."

"My clan will hear no more of this nonsense," the krogan bellowed, "Clan Ojaa will have no part in this folly."

 _Ah, Chieftain Ojaa Talmoud. A bloody weakling if there ever was one._ Wrex was preparing to unlatch his claymore to fight him, but noticed that the crowd seemed to be parting slightly as another, familiar krogan form headed towards Talmoud.

Wrex could only smirk.

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_March 5, 2186_

_1506 hours._

_Lower Camp, Urdnot Camp, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt._

He converged on Chieftain Talmoud, blood rushing in his veins as his adrenaline rush went wild.

_I shall silence this welp!_

He sprinted through the crowd, armed with nothing but his own body. As Lord Companier, having been promoted to commanding officer of the finest krogan commando unit, Aralakh Company, he had been posted to the side of the camp, his camp on station as a bodyguard detachment to quiet any quarrelers. And he had found one.

And he ordered his company to stay put while he did this himself. They doubted his leadership, his strength, and now he would prove it to them.

Shoving the last Ojaa soldier aside, Grunt rushed forward and tackled the Chieftain to the ground with a cascading war cry. Talmoud cried out in shock as his head hit the stone floor, but he quickly recovered, clamping his jaw shut over Grunt's arm. The krogan supersoldier growled in pain, but he ignored it, sending a foot slamming into Talmoud's shin, causing him to let go as he assessed the new area. Pulling his arm free, Grunt watched as his regeneration kicked in almost immediately, his supersoldier like abilities being that of the ancient krogan; the blood of his ancestors ran through his veins and within no time, his arm had healed, as if no bite mark had existed.

Clan Ojaa soldiers converged on him, but the Chieftain waved them off, wanting to kill Grunt himself. The krogan merely watched, some crying out support for Talmoud, while others for Grunt. Wrex crouched near his throne, watching the battle unfold with a toothy grin.

Talmoud eyed his healed wounds, sneering at Grunt, "You are unnatural, welp. You have the abilities of a freak."

Grunt gave a throaty chuckle in response, "You're body will be just as freakish when I'm done pissing on it," his stomach growled, "Maybe I'll shit on it, too. My varren stew seems to have finished digesting."

Talmoud merely growled and charged forward, attempting to tackle Grunt. The krogan merely strafed to the left, and held his hand out, clasping onto Talmoud's crest and yanking upwards, using the chieftain's momentum to thrust him upwards and onto the ground. Grunt sent a powerful punch flying into his midsection, which would have disemboweled a human, but merely winded Talmoud; the rough skin of krogan much to resilient to be burst in such a way. Grunt moved to offer a second blow, but Talmoud rolled out of the way, jumping to his feet.

He turned to face Grunt, but the krogan was already on him, snarling. His head slammed into Talmoud's, followed by Grunt offering a powerful kick to his shin, snapping it as Talmoud cried out and fell backwards, "My bloodline is distilled from Kredak..." Grunt chanted as he moved forward, fist slamming into Talmoud's face, a tooth flying out, followed by orange blood, followed by a second blow to one of his eyes, which caused it to slam shut in response.

"Moro...!"

Grunt straddled him, Talmoud unable to escape as Grunt once again grabbed his head and slammed it against his, stunning him. Using the thumbs of his fingers, he pressed them into Talmoud's eye sockets, and he screamed out in agony as orange blood oozed from the sockets.

"Shiagur...!"

He removed his thumbs, and orange blood spat out, Talmoud screaming like a wounded animal and hands feeling all over his face, no longer able to see due to his burst eye sockets. Grunt got off of him, looking down at the pitiful creature before kicking him in his quad, turning his pained screams into choked cries of agony, blood never ceasing to flow from where his eyes once were.

"Shepard," Grunt finished, "My blood did not come from him, but he did offer me his wisdom. He is the greatest battlemaster of all. Be lucky that he did not fight you. Or his mate. They would have done alot worse to you."

"Go...to hell...pyjak!" Talmoud screamed, "I will...end you...men, kill...him!"

Rolling his eyes, Talmoud's men merely watched as Grunt not only grabbed the chieftain's head, but with a few twists and a pull,  _ripped it clean_ from his spine, orange blood gushing everywhere in a thick geyser. Grunt practically swam in it a he arose from the dead chieftain's corpse, body going limp with the severance of his head. Mouth twitching slightly, it wasn't long before the head died as well, blood leaking from where it once connected with the neck, a piece of spine hanging from the back. Bathing in the chieftain's essence, he turned to the startled krogan, and held the chieftain's head up eye, before tossing it, letting it roll to their feet. So all could hear him, Grunt bellowed, his own voice carrying across the camp.

" _ **DOES ANYONE ELSE OPPOSE URDNOT WREX'S PLAN!?"**_  he bellowed, and he stood there, the blood dripping off of his armor, making him stink of a dead corpse. Varren scurried over to Talmoud's dead corpse and began feeding on it, with Grunt having to growl at another that was trying to lap at the blood on his armor. Turning back, he still heard no answer, and the Ojaa clan soldiers remained silent. Grunt merely nodded, turning to Wrex, a grin on his face.

"Continue, Chieftain."

With that Grunt walked off, armor stained orange.

All he heard was Wrex's echoing laughter, and the krogan supersoldier smiled.

From the day forward, Aralakh Company never questioned his orders again.

**{Loading...}**

_May 28, 2186_

_1209 hours._

_Operation Command, Blue Suns Corporation Headquarters, Thun, Zorya._

_Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, First Lieutenant Jentha Renmark._

"Jentha, where the bloody hell have you been?"

Zaeed Massani, most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy and co-founder of the Blue Suns, strode into the room, wearing his custom-made Blue Suns armor, minus the helmet, allowing everyone to see the numerous scars he had accumilated on his face; including the two gunshot scars on his forehead. It showed the mercenaries how strong he was, and created the spectulation that he was 'immortal.' Let the buggers believe what they want to believe, if they respected and/or feared him, it was good enough for him.

And with Vido Santiago dead, the Blue Suns were his to command. The entire corp. And he was leading them well.

Jentha turned towards him, also clad in her Blue Suns armor, with a Revenant LMG on her back and her helmet ontop of the debriefing table, where a hologram of the galaxy was currently represented, with numerous red dots representing enemy clients and mercenary company bases, and the green dots representing Blue Suns bases. She was his second-in-command, but wouldn't be if she hadn't decided to quit on Tarak's assault on Archangel at the last minute. Otherwise, Shepard might have killed her by now. Or Zaeed himself.

She was human, and quite attractive by those standards, but for a mercenary, she was a bit soft. She had raven black hair that seem to fall down around around her face and stopped near her neck. She lacked a fringe, and that was made up for my her large nose. She smooth, round cheeks, darkish skin, and and hazel eyes. Her lips were small but kissable, and her breasts were ample; not massive balloons like Miranda's, but not tiny like Jack's. Standing beside her was one of his batarian commanders, followed by another one, who was turian. All of them turned to Zaeed upon his entrance.

Jentha shook her head, bracing against the table with her arms, "Rallying your troops for you sir. Apparently they weren't too keen on joining their leader's murderer, but after seeing what you did to the Collectors and the Shadow Broker, they were all pretty quick to sign up."

Zaeed nodded, leaning against the table equally, throwing his datapad ontop of its surface, all their attention landing on it.  _Not that I actually killed the Shadow Broker. But my men don't need to know that. Bastards don't even know that I had nothing to do with that little attack._ He pointed at the datapad, a frown on his face, "You won't believe who I fucking found. The little cunt."

The batarian crossed his arms, coughing, "Who? Must be a bloody idiot if he's got you all riled up."

"Thanks, I needed that you bloody ass-kissing blink," Zaeed replied, before picking it up and throwing it in his face, "Who the fuck do you think it is? My fairy godmother? There's only one motherfucking bastard I want gone from this galaxy the most. And before you guess, no, its not Vido."

"I still don't..."

"Darner Vosque, Marath," Jentha answered for him, turning to the batarian in question, "Darner Vosque is the one who's pissed him off," she turned back to Zaeed however, a frown of confusion on her face, "But I thought you two made nice after he handed the Suns over to you. He's incharge of the Citadel division."

"Yes, but that goddam creature is now a treacherous rodent," Zaeed slammed his fist into the table, "I don't know how the little cunt did it, but he's managed to rally his entire division to his cause and now they've defected. They work for Vosque now, who in turn is now going back to what we did before; raiding C-Sec transports. Bloody fuckwit is tearing the entire system down for his won selfish desire, the scumbag. And if it weren't any worse, it would seem he's looking to gain Aria's favor. Last we need is that bitch controlling  _my_ organization."

He looked around the room to see the reactions. Marath held the same dumb expression of surprise he always gave when he learned new, seemingly obvious, information, Jentha looked to be pensive, and the turian, Palisus, merely shook his head as he spoke, "Then what do you propose we do, boss? Mercs are mercs. We've always fought for money, and we haven't had much of a reason not to fight for money before you came here and told us about the damn cataclysm. Can't blame Vosque for not believing in it."

Zaeed eyed him with his eyes, but shook his head, "Doesn't change a goddam thing. He's still a traitor, and I want him removed. So much so that I might just do it myself."

All eyes landed on him in an instant, but Jentha was the first to speak, "Sir, Vosque has the entire Citadel division on his side. That's at least a regiment of troops."

"That I will soon have back on my side once I have that fucker's head," Zaeed cursed, "I'll fly to the Citadel and I will find that little bastard and make sure he knows who he fucked with. Then I shall return with his head, and maybe I'll put one of you in command of the division he failed to lead."

There was silence as they all thought about this and Zaeed quickly turned to leave the room, "I'm leaving. First transport I can find to take me to the Citadel. Vosque better pray he has a change of heart before I get there, and even then, that'll only win him a quicker death."

"Wait sir," Jentha called out, and he turned to her, who was now running up to her, her helmet now placed firmly on her head and clicking into place, "If you're going, I'm coming with you. You can't take Vosque all by yourself."

He rolled his eyes, "And just who is going to command this entire goddam place? Not Marath, for sure."

"Palisus," she told him, "He's a turian. Leadership and military comraderie are in his blood and training. Leaving him in command is preferable while I come with you. I'll bring a company of our veteran troopers as well. We'll need the extra firepower."

"Whatever you say woman," he growled, turning to Pelisus, "You're in command while we're gone. Don't betray me, or I'll show you Vosque's head before decapitating yours, got it?"

Pelisus nodded, "Got it, boss."

Zaeed turned away, moving down the corridor, signalling Jentha to follow him.

Vosque better say his prayers tonight.

**{Loading...}**

_March 11, 2186_

_1433 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Plantia Shipyard orbitting Earth, Sol System._

_Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor._

"I don't know what you're talking about, Specialist Traynor," Joker jested secretly, keeping his mirth a secret from the alliance tech, "As far I know, EDI is a simple VI. She doesn't have the intelligence to be anything but."

He had many conversations like this, but only recently with Comms. Specialist Samantha Traynor. She was a new addition to the retrofit crew in charge of 'renovating' the Normandy, to bring it into 'alliance regs.' If you asked Joker, he'd tell you that they were simply ruining the ship, but if you asked any alliance greenhorn, he'd say the ship was being removed of the stench of 'those terrorist scum.' Aka, Cerberus. The only thing Joker could really hate on though was the new door they'd installed in the cockpit, making it impossible to see into it now from the flight deck; and even that was getting an overhaul. He hadn't seen much of it, much what he did, he didn't like.

Then there was Samantha Traynor. Now her he liked. Most of the retrofit crew had been your typical alliance glum face; didn't talk much unless forced to, and worked until their bones were brittle enough to be diagnosed as Vrolik's. Samantha did the same, but she was far more socially...awkward, then socially inept. She didn't take conversations about her personal life too well, which reminded him some what of Tali, and she seemed jittery. However, he couldn't deny that she was attractive.  _Very_ attractive. She wore standard issue Alliance blue and white, along with the red stripe of the tech division, and she had long, flowing black hair that curled around her head and was tucked neatly behind her ears. She had smooth round cheeks that affirmed her dark-skin color, hazel-green eyes, and firm, but not puckered, pink lips. Her breasts were large, but not Miranda's large, and she didn't really have any curves worth of note, but she definitely fit into his realm of sexy. Not that she would think of him that way; she had made it quite clear to everyone else that she was interested in her own gender only.  _Why is it the hottest are always the ones you can't touch?_

Samantha crossed her arms, shaking her head with a displeased frown and tucked her datapad under her arm, giving him a stern gaze, "I've checked her processing controls. The power draw from the systems...no 'simple VI' requires that much input."

"And what if this one does?" Joker asked, shrugging his shoulders, "Cerberus likes to go overboard."  _No kidding. They turned this ship from frigate into the size of a cruiser, with the firepower of a dreadnought. They hired some of the most elite operatives in the galaxy. They then spent billions bringing Shepard back to life, and then spent thousands trying to rid him of it. Cerberus going 'overboard' is the biggest euphemism since Kaidan pointed out that Shepard and Tali have a 'fling.' A bloody fling that lead to a certain marriage? Ha!_

Samantha sighed, shaking her head, "I'm not convinced, Joker. I want to talk to it; see if I'm wrong or not."

"Be my guest," Joker replied. Luckily for both him and EDI, they had come up with a full-proof plan on how to full everyone that she was a VI. It was simple; EDI would simply act like one. Wasn't hard. And noone would know. He turned to the hologram pedestal next to him, "EDI."

The blue pawn representing her form appeared, glowing ethereally. She seemed to be looking at him, waiting for an answer as she spoke, her voice feminine in its tone, "Yes. Do you have an inquiry?"

He heard Samantha gasp, and he turned to her, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to be in awe, but noticing his look quickly nodded, clasping her hands behind her back. He let a smirk crease the corner of his mouth, before he straightened out his cap and turned back to EDI, "Specialist Traynor has some questions for you. Needs to know you're VI."

"That information was not programmed within me," EDI replied, "Scanning: Results Negative. Results relative to the quiry provided cannot be given. Please enter another question."

He turned to her, "You see? Just a VI. Nothing more. Trust me, served on the ship longer than you and know how it works. Pretty sure Cerberus wouldn't risk putting an AI on the ship."  _And to think I'm defending her, keeping her safe. If this had been when not long after I got the ship, I probably would have rooted her out. But now we're partners in crime._

Samantha exhaled, but didn't turn to look at him, or answer his question. Finally, after what seemed to be some hesitation, a smile broke her face, one laced with attraction, and Joker couldn't believe what he heard came from her mouth, "Its voice is...sexy. Attractive. I like it."

Samantha's smile quickly dropped when she heard Joker break into a fit of laughter, the specialist turning to face him. She frowned, mouth moving with her thoughts, "What? What's so fun-" she quickly realized just what she had said, and the heat rose to her cheeks in an instant, "Oh...I said that out loud, didn't I? Oh, bollocks..."

Oh, and Samantha was British in descent, which explains the curse word. Not that it helped understand her more, Joker couldn't help but laugh even harder as she said it. Eventually, when he got it under control, he noticed the angry look she was giving him, trying to hide her blush as well, "Sorry, Traynor, but calling a VI sexy wasn't exactly one of your strong suite."  _Plus, I don't want to imagine EDI and Samantha. Don't know why, but it makes me...envious? Jealous? Bah. Don't get myself sometimes. Probably just my mind fucking with me._

She merely shook her head, finally managing to work off her embarassment and nod, "Well, you can consider me convinced. Just...no more surprises on the ship, Joker. If it exists, I want to know about it. As will Admiral Anderson."

"Whatever you say, Specialist Traynor," he waved her a mock salute, to which she simply ignored, tapping the haptic interface for the cockpit's new door and moving through and into the gloomy and dimly lit flight deck, where cables lay scrambled over the deck, Samantha walking over them as the door closed on her form. He shook his head, turning to EDI with a grin.

"You have an admirer," Joker stated, his grin omnipotent. In truth, behind his smile, was annoyance. Frustration. Fury. The Alliance had not only taken Shepard's ship, but now they planned to give it to someone else. Its not that he didn't like Anderson, he thought he was a great captain, but the idea that the man would be sleeping in the same bed that Shepard and Tali slept only a few months ago? That he would be commanding the ship with a totally new crew, aside from Joker and Kaidan? It just felt wrong in every way. But until the retrofits were done, Anderson would not be in command, which meant the Normandy fell under its XO's command, which was Kaidan.

EDI responded, this time normally, "Yes. She said my voice was...sexy. I am confused. Does this mean that Samantha Traynor has developed a sexually-driven attraction to me? I do have emotions, but I do not believe myself, in my current form, capable of sexual intercourse. Also, I believe the human term is that Traynor is 'not my type.'"

He laughed, shaking his head, "I think she is, EDI. But she'll get over it," his smile was lost though as he turned around to face the cockpit terminal, which was powered down, remembering what she said after that, "Wait, you have a sexual preference? How? Just who is your 'type?'"

"Male Pilots with a sarcastic attitude," the AI replied with a deadpan voice.

Upon hearing her comment, his smile had instantly dropped, and he looked at the hologram to his side with a worrying frown.  _I must be dreaming, because she did not just say that..._ And for some reason, he sorta liked it. He shook that thought from his head almost as quickly as it came up, and he just continued to look at her in horror. Eventually, she spoke again.

"That was a joke," she stated.

He gave a sigh of relief, shaking his head as he once more straightened out his cap, turning away from her, "That shit ain't funny EDI. Seriously, you had me worried for a second there."

"So did I."

He didn't even bother asking what she meant by that as he looked out the cockpit windows, watching lazily as an Alliance Second Fleet destroyer lazily drifted by the shipyard, accompanied by, funnily enough, by a Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate. He couldn't see the name from his distance.

Life would be like this for a very long while.

**{Loading...}**

_March 8, 2186_

_1745 hours._

_Conference Room, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_Major Kaidan Alenko._

His eyes drifted across Vancouver's many streets below, the twinkling of the Fraser River never failing to make him feel at peace. Vancouver was the capital of Canada, which had long been assimiliated into the United North American States, ever since the end of the Second American Civil War. Canada wasn't the one assimilated; Mexico, and the US were all part of the nation now, and all followed by the one government. The UNAS government. Canada, for all intents and purposes, had sacrificed its independence the day that war ended, on August 19, 2096.

Canada was his homeland; it was where he descended from. He hadn't seen much of Earth, let alone Canada itself, since he had embarked into space and been forced into Conatix's biotic program on Jump Zero in orbit of Earth, so these last few months had been the only real opportunity to see his home. Vancouver was a wonderful city; heavily metropolitan, many skyscrapers to match, and the occassional merchant freighter or alliance warship moving through the atmosphere and hovering over the atmosphere gave him a feeling of safety.

Eventually, in the end, all he could imagine was the city burning, thousands of people screaming. And the sound of a Reaper's airhorn; the very sound shaking his body to the core.

Those thoughts brought him back to why he was truly here, or why he  _had_ truly been here. Shepard might have needed him at some point, but that wasn't true anymore. Kaidan, upon landing on Arcturus Station, had been ordered to return to Vancouver, and when he had, the brass had seen fit to promote him to Major. He had been confused at what was going on until Anderson had informed him that he was being chosen to assume command of the Normandy in Shepard's absence, Anderson knowing Marcus would want the ship used for something other than rotting in a dock waiting for the Reapers to show up, and took Kaidan on as his XO. And in Anderson's absence, that effectively made him the captain of the Normandy.

That stealth frigate was his to command, and ever since that realization, Kaidan had barely walked two feet near the thing. It was hanging in orbit, under retrofit in an alliance shipyard, and would stay there until the Reapers arrived and Anderson took control of it; the admiral planned to use it as his flagship and mobile command center during the conflict, while Marcus did what he did best; leading his squad into combat and against the Reapers on the ground. Anderson had planned ahead, but Kaidan couldn't say he liked any of it.

His thoughts consumed him even as he stood there looking through the massive observation windows of the conference room, the equally large conference table for the Defense Committee looming behind him, the windows giving him a clear view of the entire city before them. His hands were clasped behind his back in a parade rest, and his hair was slightly shaven, with the contents of a small beard starting to form around his edges, one he hadn't bothered to tend to.  _Maybe I'll want a beard this time 'round. I feel old enough._

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he assumed they were just some Committee member moving to check the room until the figure stood to his right, revealing himself to be Anderson, without his admiral's cap on, but wearing alliance naval uniform, the gold bars of a Rear Admiral pinned on his left breast. He turned to him in an instant, snapping a salute.

The admiral simply laughed, returning the salute, "At least, Major Alenko. No need for formalities here. Noone here to scold you."

Kaidan simply nodded, turning back to face out the window. He sighed once more, and he heard a similiar sound burst from Anderson's own lips, "It's hard, isn't it? The politics. The back-room deals. The underhanded bullshit. The whispered words, followed by the silent creak of a closing door. That's what politics is all about; Shep...Marcus, never really understood that. Sure, his words could move armies and fleets, and his combat skills were like that of Achillies. The man had spirit, but what he lacked was an understanding of politics. He couldn't begin to comprehend what he was meddling in."

Kaidan turned to him, an angry furrow on his brow, "How do you figure that, sir?" There was some slight acid in his tone.

Anderson either ignored it or didn't notice it, his eyes still looking out the window, hands at his sides, "His tactics. He always chose brute force over careful diplomacy. That might have worked well on the battlefield, but the political field requires a deft touch. It corrupts people. Makes them into people they aren't. I've seen special forces becoming politicians, and they become complete cowards. I've seen pacifists become politicians, and next they'll be declaring war on every nation they come across. Truth is, politics corrupts absolutely. Marcus was lucky to never have been involved in it directly. But he was involved. And its left him helpless; politicians are an enemy you can't fight with guns, and you can't fight them with words. Marcus had only the words and the guns, and therefore, he lost the battle."

"Then how do you beat them?" Kaidan asked, genuinely interested.

"By becoming one of them," Anderson simply stated, shaking his head sullenly, "Only way to beat them is to play their game. And by the time you've done that, you become your own worst enemy. I learnt that the hard way. Had to become a Councilor to know what it was all about; difference was, I managed to get out before it tempted me too well, and corrupted me. But even as an Admiral, politics is never far away, and when it sees you, the first thing it'll do is try to annoy me to the point that you just want to draw blood. And that's when they win."

_'...you become your own worst enemy.' Wrex is a Chieftain now, and Liara is the Shadow Broker, who is, in itself, heavily involved with politics. And I seem to be falling to its thrall already. How long before Garrus, Shepard and Tali fall? Damn. We really do become our own worst enemy._

With an inhale of breath, he turned to Anderson, "Well, I won't let the politicians beat me. I won't become one, and I won't tempt them, all I'll do...is do nothing."

Anderson smiled, turning towards him, "Doing nothing makes you invisible to them. They can't berate or scheme or frame someone who does nothing. You're learning fast, Alenko. I can see what Shepard sees in you. I bet he's proud of you, right now."

"Thank you sir," Kaidan smiled half-heartedly, the thought of his Commander locked up still paining him, and he knew Anderson saw it as the Admiral patted his shoulder.

"Don't lose hope. Shepard may be locked up, but his companions aren't. They'll be preparing, and we've got so much of it to do ourselves. Why wait around and mope, when we can move around and get somethings going on? Hackett believes us, and I think we may just have Fleet Admiral Netanyahu selling on it."

Kaidan nodded, looking outside one last time as Anderson began to walk away. He closed his eyes, and then opened them, exhaling as he did and smiling.  _Shepard will know I tried something. I'll be a soldier when the time calls for it. Today, I am the gambler. The game changer._ He turned to Anderson, and thought of what he said on politics.  _Time to become my own worst enemy. I'll play the game, and I'll win._ He quickly caught up to Anderson, and they left.

He had made a deal with the Devil. He just hoped it played in his favor.

**{Loading...}**

_December 1, 2185_

_1010 hours._

_Main Airlock/Exterior, Halcyon-Class Prototype, Hagalaz Storm Center, Hagalaz._

_Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Agent Feron._

Chaos. It had all happened so quickly, and Liara had been a fool not to see it coming.

The ship rocked again from another impact, its kinetic barriers already weakening to a barely functional state. With no onboard defenses, it was powerless to fight back, and it had no armor either; so once the shields were breached, it would be torn asunder. Which mean she had to get off it now. Trying to escape with the vessel would be impossible; it wasn't built to move at fast speed or for military maneveurs, so it was cumbersome at best; plus the fact that it had been sitting in one position for years, that the engines were basically neglected and not maintained; making them effectively useless. The only escape was the exterior escape pods.

Sparks flew from a nearby console as she neared the exterior airlock main door, said console then exploding and sending a piece of the wall flying outwards, slamming into the ground with a metallic thud. The bodies of three of her mercs lay on the ground in growing pools of blood; scorch marks podmarking their armor and faces, along with pieces of debris sticking out of them. She ran over them, almost turning to scream at Feron to hurry up when her drell lover ran past her, smiling at her as he ran past. This was all a game to him, and that only made her angry at him.  _This is life or death! How can he be smiling at a time like this!_

Feron brought up his omni-tool, quickly imputting the necessary codes into the door for it to shoot open, the harsh winds of Hagalaz howling into the corridor as she ran to join him, both of them already wearing full-head helmets as they rushed out. Glyph was preparing the escape shuttle, and all her stuff was inside, they just needed to reach it. Liara took his offered hand, and he pulled her out onto the deck, sealing the door behind them. Once together, they moved to continue running, only for their eyes to land on the enemy ship that currently was bombarding them.

She identified it in an instant. The hexagonal, golden insignia could be recognized anywhere, and her eyes narrowed in a glare.  _Cerberus. Should have known they'd come to take me out. I have been hassling their network a bit. The Illusive Man must be pretty desperate to have me eliminated._ The ship was massive, but clearly wasn't of Cerberus make; it was an alliance light cruiser in design, and she saw its named enscribed on the side.  _CAW Napoleon._ The ship's main guns and point-defense lasers were all aimed at her vessel, and as they watched, it fired another volley, missiles and shells arching towards them until impacting the hull, sending vibrations through the ship whilst also causing a shimmer on the side.

Glyph spoke in her helmet comms once more, "Shadow Broker, Kinetic Barriers at 20 percent. Recommend immediate departure."

"Come on, Liara we have to go! The ship is gone, but we can still get out of here!" Feron pleaded, but she wasn't budging, only having eyes for the ship.

She contemplated her actions as the cruiser prepared to fire another salvo. A smile slowly creased her lips.  _I can't have the ship any longer, but I won't allow them their victory._

"They can have my ship," Liara declared.  _The engines have enough juice for a short journey. And enough velocity for a hard impact. That's all they will need._

She commed her assistant drone, "Glyph, set the shuttle coordinates for the Citadel. I'll drop off Feron there, and head straight for the Sol System. I want this ship's engines ignited and ready; this ship is going on a small journey. I want to be given full control as well. Inform me when I do have control."

She turned to Feron, and she nodded to the cruiser before them. Feron, confused at her intentions before, saw her motions and an equally sadistic smirk creased his own lips, "Better be gone then," was all he could say as they continued towards their shuttle. Most of her crew had evacuated already, and they would be the last two out. They quickly reached the unmarked private shuttle and opened the hatch, moving inside and closing it behind them as the shuttle's engines fired up. Glyph informed her that she now had full control of the vessel, and she plotted in the coordinates on her omni-tool, before turning it off, entering the cockpit and sitting in the pilot seat, lifting off from the doomed ship's hull as they shot towards the atmosphere.

She used the shuttle's cameras to watch the cruiser as they flew away. Both Feron and herself had grins on their faces as the Halcyon-Class Prototype, the only one in existence, slowly, but gradually turned towards the CAW Napoleon, and flew towards it. The ship fired one final salvo before trying to bug out, but were nowhere fast enough. Her ex-base impacted the Napeleon just as the howling winds blew clouds in front of her view, but both of them could see the flash of bright yellow through the clouds that signalled that the Cerberus cruiser had been destroyed the impact. The brighter flash was her vessel exploding from the impact.

"One hell of a parting gift, Liara," Feron quipped.

She merely gave him a calm smile, watching the drell for a few moments before turning back in the cockpit, watching as the vastness of space welcomed them and the shuttle left Hagalaz behind, for the final time, "Sit back and relax Feron. This'll be a long ride..."

"And we've both got a lot of work to do now."

**{Loading...}**

_April 4, 2186_

_1329 hours._

_Grigori's Quarters, Grigori's Mansion, Milgrom, Bekenstein._

_Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

Two more security measures fell apart from the virus she installed in the Mansion's systems, and The Master Thief walked casually through the door to Vanchev Grigori's main suite doors as if they weren't even there, a small grin crossing her face at just how mediocre the security was.  _Compared to my skills of course. Keiji would have worked a system like that in his sleep. Dear old Grigori's gotten lazy._ She knew Grigori well; he was a former assiociate of Donovan Hock, a man who was now help, in no part thanks to her.  _Unlike Hock, his mansion won't go up in flames. I only need to access his vault._

The quarters were an almost exact carbon copy of Hock's, if not the dimmer lighting at present. Kasumi's cloak remained active as she moved inside, the door closing behind her. Noticing two cameras facing his bed, she raised her omni-tool and had them deactivated in seconds, and using an overload program Tali gave her, used it to disable the inactive LOKI and FENRIS mechs lying collapsed in the corner. Her smirk still present, she turned to the open balcony, where city of Milgrom spilled out in the distance, and then to the large queen-sized bed, where the fat form of Vanchev Grigori lay, snoring like a sow's oink.  _Disgusting. Never really liked this guy._

If only Garrus were here. That turian loved some viglante justice. That thought wiped the smirk from her face, as her eyes lay on the ground, thoughts rolling away.  _Why do I miss him so much? What we had, its just a fling. A few bits of flirting and mucking around, nothing else. I don't...love him, do I? Not like Keiji. No. I loved Keiji, but I don't know if I love Garrus the same way. Bah! Why am I even thinking this!_ She had felt detached ever since Garrus left for Palaven after their goodbyes, and it bugged her.  _I've got other things to worry about. Like a certain vault._

She turned away from Grigori's stinking, sleeping body and moved over to a blank wall, where she could easily see the lines that marked gaps in the wall.  _Jeez, Grigori. Your laziness knows no bounds._ Her omni-tool raised once more, she scanned the door and opened it with a few brute force programs, overriding the combinations and password, opening it in a second. It gave a hiss as it opened, and Kasumi shot a look at Grigori, only to see him still asleep. Turning back to the vault, she watched it open to see the main vault. Opening that as well, she watched as its main item showed itself.

A Reaper artefact, shining with bright red vibrance. It glowed eerily and forbodingly, and she found it hard to keep her eyes on it. Grabbing the device in her pocket, she placed the tiny artefact, which was the size of her palm, and placed it in the device, which immediately emitted a blue containment field around it; that would protect her from indoctrination. She had listened.

Placing it back in her pocket, she moved to walk away, closing the vault behind her, when she heard the door open, and her eyes shot up, moving to activate her cloak desperately. But the salarian spectre that currently stood in his orange and black armor and Tempest SMG in hand was already calling out to her.

"Goto! Stop right there! I have you now! You're under arrest!" Spectre Jondam Bau demanded, SMG raised at her.

Her cloak activated, and she quickly ran for the balcony, knowing Bau could see her; as an ex-STG agent, he knew what the shimmer of a cloak looked like. Nonetheless, he was unable to stop her as she climbed ontop of the balcony, railing and turned towards him, maintaining her balance carefully as he commed her omni-tool behind her back. Bau came into her view, salarian brow creased in annoyance, "You've got nowhere to go Goto! Give it up!"

Kasumi laughed, "I like you Bau, but I'm not going to let you arrest me! I've got many important things to do!"

"Like the Reapers?" Bau asked, and Kasumi actually looked shocked, "I know what you seek, but I can't just let you walk away. What you're doing is theft, and even in pursuit of the goal you strive for, that is unacceptable! I can help you, but you must turn yourself over!"

She pouted, crossing her arms, "No can do, Bau. I'm very impressed by your abilities to track me wherever I go, but I made a promise to Shep to make sure the galaxy was ready. And noone, not even you, is going to stop me."

"You've got nowhere to go!" Bau exclaimed, edging towards her slowly.

A response on her omni-tool, and she merely grinned one final time, "On the contrary," and with that, she leaned backwards and fell off the balcony, plummetting towards the streets below...

...only to land in the seat of a skycar as her fellow associate arrived, and the door closed to Bau's astonished face as the skycar flew off towards Milgrom, a very amused Kasumi in its passenger seat. Turning to her turian rescuer, she handed him the credit chit she owed him, and turned back to face the windscreen.

"Just what did you do in there?" the turian asked, "I heard shouting. Who was that?"

Kasumi merely smiled, "A very determined spectre," her grin only grew as she lay back, patting her pant's pocket to make sure the artefact was still there, "On a determined quest to put a determined thief in prison."  _Never in a million years._

_Not while Garrus and Shepard depend on me._

It was a quiet ride into Milgrom.

**{Loading...}**

_April 6, 2186_

_1400 hours._

_Geth Consensus Server, Unknown Location, Shev'viz Continent, Rannoch._

_Legion._

Uplink with consensus achieved. Beginning uplink.

Uplink complete. Awaiting confirmation from all one thousand, one hundred and eighty-three programs.

Confirmation received. Loading data...

Data upload complete. Integration into Consensus complete. Welcome.

Platform Runtime 296210000: Welcome back, Platform Runtime 000000204. We welcome you to our Consensus. Caution: Millions of Platform and System Runtimes are unavailable at this time during construction of Grand Consensus Superstructure; they have volunteered themselves for structure testing. Initial testing results conclusive; structure can support billions of runtimes; will support entire geth species. Recommend complete species upload in 5 standard galactic months. Pending approval.

Platform Runtime 000000204: We conclude that this goal is viable. Old Machine threat substantial. Grand Consensus Superstructure will greatly increase chance of geth evolution. Organics value individuality. We have observed this during our time on Normandy; Shepard-Commander has taught us many things. Possibility of this facility providing this chance is a 61.23 percent variable. We will consider these assessments.

Platform Runtime 296210000: Affirmative. Old Machine threat imminent. Complete militarization still a matter of Consensus alternative. Will not decide until Consensus reached. Creator patrols have increased once more, and we fear Creator attack.

Platform Runtime 000000204: Creator Tali'Shepard has promised that subsequent attacks from Creator forces is unlikely. They will reach Consensus that Old Machines are more of a threat, and the promise of their homeworld will ward off any possible attack.

Platform Runtime 296210000: We will wait. Old Machine threat is imminent. We will prepare.

Platform Runtime 000000204: We will prepare.

Consensus: We will all prepare.

**{Loading...}**

_February 6, 2186_

_1940 hours._

_Main Reception, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Wards, The Citadel._

_Assassin Thane Krios, C-Sec Investigator Kolyat Krios._

His lungs felt like they were on fire. He found it hard to breathe, and every time he did, it was a deathly rasp and almost came off as choking. He tried to keep himself standing, but it was proving to be a difficult battle with all his dry heaving. But it was subsiding; ever since he had left Mexico on Earth, the effects had been wearing off.

It had been normal at first. Just himself and his son, visiting Earth to see what the human homeworld was all about. It had all gone well, until Thane had his oxygenic attack; a side effect of his Kepral's Syndrome, and his body's inability to produce enough oxygen for his body. The attack had left Kolyat terrified, that was plain to see, and Thane knew these attacks would only get more frequent. He was nearing the conclusion of his disease, and he wouldn't last much longer, but what time he had left, he would spend with his son. If this disease didn't claim him today.

The elevator finally arrived at Huerta Memorial Hospital, which apparently had the best care on the entire Citadel. As they moved inside, they found the hospital's main reception area to be moderately quiet, with not much activity. Observation windows on both sides gave them a beauitful view of the Presidium down below, and the reception area was located in the middle, with only four people manning it. A sofa lay to the left side, with a medical kiosk next to it for basic precriptions, the hospital doubling as a pharmacy as well.

Kolyat, arm still under his father's, guided him over to a chair nearby, slowing sitting him down in it. Thane nodded his thanks, finally seeming to get his breathing under control. He kneeled down infront of his father, trying to gain his attention with a wave of his hand, and Thane looked him in the eyes.

"Are you okay father?" Kolyat asked, the terror in his eyes palpable, "Please tell me you're okay. I already called ahead, they're sending a doctor."

"I'm...I'm fine...Kolyat," Thane breathed heavily, sucking in as much air as he dared as he straightened himself up in the soft chair, trying to maintain an air of dignity about himself, "I will be okay. I had an attack, that's all."

A female voice, synthesized, strangely, called out from the reception area, "AH! You must be Mister Krios. Where is my patient?"

Both of them turned to see who the doctor was, and were left dumbfounded. She was quarian, and her omni-tool was active, and she was carrying a medical kit in the other hand as she slowly moved towards them. And her eyes seemed to widen as Thane's did, the drell smiling grimly.

"Miss Vael, a pleasant surprise."

"Thane?" Lia said the name like it was shocking, and Kolyat was confused as he looked between them. Thane turned to Kolyat and explained to his son who Lia was; meanwhile, the said quarian moved to his side and began scanning his vitals with her omni-tool. Finished explaining to Kolyat, he turned back to Lia, who was looking over his readings on her omni-tool as he spoke, "Lia, you must know something. Shepard, he's been-"

"-imprisoned by the Alliance for destroying the Bahak System. I saw the news," Lia finished for him, shaking her head as she returned into doctor mode, "Your attack seems to have subsided, but there isn't much I can do for you except recommend you stay in this hospital. I'm not experienced in treating Kepral's Syndrome, and Professor Solus never really went into it in detail, so I'm a bit blank on the details. I'm sorry Thane, but staying here seems the best option."

Thane merely nodded his compliance, closing his eyes as he breathed in fresh air, his lungs no longer burning as they had been.  _I knew something like this was bound to happen. Arashu knew it. As did Kalahira. My time as an assassin appears to be coming to a close, but I can enjoy the solace at the end for a while longer._ "I thank you, Miss Vael. At least my son will be close by, and I have a friend to talk to."

Lia smiled behind her mask before turning to Kolyat, and shot out her hand, "Ah, I don't believe we've met. We spoke only briefly over the comms. I'm Lia'Vael nar Ulnay. I served on the Normandy."

Kolyat hesitantly took her hand in his own, shaking it gently, with a growing smile on his own face, "I...I'm Kolyat Krios. I didn't expect to see a quarian working here."

"I'm on my pilgrimage," she explained, cocking her head, "Had to work here as part of that. Hoping to use my knowledge as a doctor to complete my pilgrimage. Return as a medical professional and work with Elan'Nara on the Rayya," after a moment of silence, Lia looked down to their hands, to see them still locked in a hand shake. She looked back up, a grin on her face, "You...You can let go of my hand now."

Kolyat, realizing how long he had lingered, just letting himself look into her shining pearls for eyes, pulled his hand, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, sorry about that."

Thane merely watched the exchange, and he smiled.  _Kolyat always was awkward around women. But this one seems different...he seems to be more...ah, that is merely my father's sense._ He shook the thought away, and looked back to Lia, "I will be sitting here if a doctor needs to see me. I will not be leaving any time soon."

"I shall inform Doctor Michel. She's the manager here," Lia informed him, nodding, "She'll be here soon. I have to go, but I will talk to you later," turning to Kolyat briefly, she nodded, "And...we'll meet again soon, Krios Jnr. It was nice meeting you."

"Please, just Kolyat," his son insisted, smiling back, "Bye." He seemed to finish awkwardly, and he did not immediately rip his eyes away from her form as she walked away. And he could've sworn his eyes lingered on her buttocks before turning to face his father again. Thane mentally smiled.  _Ah...I do believe my son has found his first attraction. Next comes the crush, I should think._

"Will you be okay, father?" Kolyat asked, concerned once more.

Thane nodded, pulling a nearby chair next to him and patting it, "Come, sit with me. Talk with me. I will feel better with my son near."

And so they talked. And they talked about the future. About what awaited.

Only after the Reapers were finished could he find true peace.

And he knew that too well.

**{Loading...}**

_May 14, 2186_

_Undisclosed Location._

_Miranda Lawson._

Miranda Lawson sighed as he let herself fall into the seat infront of her terminal, and gently rolled herself closer so she could type into it. She had managed to draw off the attention of the Cerberus agents on her trail, but it hadn't been easy, and she had almost been spotted. But she had done it, and now here she was, sitting behind her terminal, pondering whether she should contact her twin sister, Oriana Lawson, or not.

_For all I know, the Illusive Man's dogs could be monitoring my communications right at this very moment. I can't risk breaking silence, but what if Oriana is in danger? I need to warn her, and that might warrant putting myself in danger._

Her decision made, she quickly brought the terminal to life, and searched through her videochat extranet contacts, eventually landing on Oriana's. Selecting the icon, she leaned back, put on her best convincing warm smile, and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. She watched as the connection feed circled around in a buffer pattern, until finally her sister's face appeared on screen...

...and she saw the look of sheer terror on her face.

"Miri!" Oriana exclaimed in relief, shaking her head. She seemed to be sitting in a dark room, and Miranda could see Oriana's parents moving boxes behind her. Something wasn't right; there was rings around her eyes, and they seemed to look sunken, as if she had a lack of sleep. Before she could ask what was wrong, Oriana spoke once more, whispering, as if someone might hear them, "I'm so glad you called. My parents and I are moving to the Citadel; its no longer safe here."

She leaned forward, her smile evaporating and a look of cool calm painting her face in determination, "The Citadel? Oriana, what's going on. Was your location compromised?"

"Yes, but not by father. Not this time, I think," Oriana assured her, looking around before leaning in closer, her eyes meeting Miranda's, "Its Cerberus. The Illusive Man. I know about what's been going on Miranda, and if he knows we're here, it isn't safe anymore. We have to go now. We'll be on the Citadel in the next few days."

She nodded, "I'll meet you there then."

Oriana widened her eyes, shaking her head, "What? No! I can't ask you to risk your life, Miri-"

"-but I will be," Miranda finished for her, shaking her head, "This is not up for negoitation. The Illusive Man is a tenacious bastard, and he won't stop until he has you in his grip. He's going to try and use you against me, I can guess; try to use you to get me back to him. He's got multiple agents he can rely upon; dammit, he'll either try and kidnap you or assassinate you, either way, he'll get what he wants. Me. Noone hurts my sister and lives, and he knows that. He's relying upon it to reel me in. I've got to protect you, and that's what I'm going to do. I'll relocate to the Citadel, set up a secret base there. I've got a few contacts who can help; non-Cerberus."

"Okay Miri," Oriana whispered, the concern clear in her voice, "Just be careful."

"And you. If Cerberus comes after you, you call me for help, and you run like hell," she nodded, leaning, "Stay safe Oriana. We'll see each other soon, I promise."

Oriana gave a brief nod, and Miranda closed the connection. She closed her eyes, breathed in and breathed out, before opening them again and shooting up, moving further into the room to collect her things.  _The Reapers will have to wait while my sister is in danger. Once she is safe, I can continue preparing for them._

But only once she was safe.

And somehow, Miranda knew Cerberus would give her no end of trouble on the way to the Citadel.

She depended on it.

_**A/N:** _

_**A short prologue for ya? Yeah, this prologue was just to wrap up the events leading up to ME3 short and sweetly; let you know what the characters were getting up to. And as you'll have seen, there was alot of changes too. Get used to it; there's alot of these 'minute changes' in Holocaust. And alot of them you'll like. Alot.** _

_**This is some teaser material. The first chapter might not be for a while, as Term Three of School begins tomorrow again for me, and I've finally decided to get my YouTube channel into action. It'll involve content from many video games, including Halo, Mass Effect, Crysis, Battlefield, Destiny, etc. I can't wait! But that's not for here; this is for Holocaust. I hope you enjoyed this tiny snippet, and I hope the wait for Chapter 1 is worth it for you guys!** _

_**Until then, Keelah Se'lai!** _


	2. Apocalypse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The galaxy is out of time: the Reapers have arrived. Earth doesn't stand a chance.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**APOCALYPSE**

_June 2, 2186_

_1000 hours._

_Main Bridge, Killmanjaro-Class Dreadnought SSV Aconcagua HA-1, In Defensive Line over Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream._

_Fleet Admiral Adina Netanyahu._

All had been normal operation. The admiral had woken up at 0700 hours to a mug of hot coffee and a breakfast of strawberry porridge. She would check her terminal for news from her homeland, Israel, and then she would have a shower, dress, and make her bed. Once done, she would head to the medical bay for some of the annual shots, before heading up to the bridge and signing in, relieving the captain of the command while they went to the mess hall for a break. The Aconcagua, as usual, was in an orbital position just above Arcturus Station, serving as its primary defense. She had corvettes, backed by a couple of frigates, patrolling the system, whilst the rest of her frigates and her destroyers monitored the relay. The cruisers surrounded the station, the three battleships she had on the other side, and the carrier docked with the station, as it was not needed unless launching an assault.

All had been normal operation, and she would have been gazing upon stars and reading reports today.

But today was not a normal day. That had ended four hours ago when they first got the reports.

The Kite's Nest, the home cluster of the batarian species, had come under attack from an unknown foe. They had no idea what it was, and they couldn't identify it, but before the Hegemony had even mobilized its navy, most of their systems had been overrun, the enemy fleet having been reported to number in the hundreds. By the time the Hegemony's Navy had assembled over Khar'Shan, the enemy force had already entered the system, and had systematically obliterated every defense station the batarians had active, blew past their outer colonies, and headed straight for the batarian homeworld.

It was a bloodbath, from what she heard. The attack was so swift, sudden and out of nowhere, that the batarians simply hadn't stood a chance. By the time all contact finally ceased with the Kite's Nest, three quarters of the batarian navy had been wiped out, and the rest was completely routing. What happened to Khar'Shan was up to the imagination, but it wouldn't be pretty, if the destruction of the Hegemony's military was any indication.

The Council didn't know what to make of this threat, and the Parliament was terrified. For two reasons. One, they knew exactly who the enemy was and who had warned them about it.

Two, the enemy, one Adina knew simply as the Reapers, was now heading straight for the Arcturus System. To Arcturus Station, and to Earth.

Once the Kite's Nest was overrun, reports stated that the Viper Nebula had come under attack, before all contact with that nebula was lost as well. With the Batarian Hegemony now defeated, the Reapers had clearly moved to step two; using the mass relay network, their fleet was now heading to deal with the Systems Alliance. It was with that, that the Parliament declared a DEFCON 1 red alert. Every single navy, marine and army unit was being mobilized, and their defenses bolstered. They believe the batarians lost because they were unprepared; but the Alliance wouldn't be.

Even now, the Aconcagua sat in defense position next to Arcturus Station, capital of the Systems Alliance, with her First Fleet's carrier, SSV Benjamin Davis, along with all three battleships covering her flagship's flanks. The rest of the fleet was in an arrowhead formation, with corvettes, fighters and frigates at the front, interceptors and destroyers in the middle, and light and heavy cruisers taking the back; and behind them, her dreadnought, and the ships supporting it.

Nitesh Singh's Third Fleet had been ordered to bolster hers, and had arrived in system an hour ago, quickly spreading his ships out. His flagship, the Killmanjaro-Class SSV Logan, had moved to the far side of Alcyoneus, an asteroid orbitting the star Arcturus, and his three battleships supported him. His fleet's carrier, the SSV Thomas Edison, had taken position near the system's outer edge, but not too far away from the station, and the rest of his ships were spread out. Four of his heavy cruisers waited near the relay to surprise the enemy, and the rest of his ships surrounded the relay, whilst also bolstering her forces as well.

The rest of the Alliance fleet was all over the place. The Second, Fourth and Fifth Fleet were tasked with defending Earth, the Sixth Fleet was defending the Asgard System of the Exodus Cluster, while the Seventh defended the Utopia System. The Eighth Fleet is currently in charge of acting as reserves for both the Sol, Utopia, Asgard and Arcturus Systems, and was merely waiting. The Parliament, in its entirety, was trapped on Arcturus Station, but they were confident that her fleet and Singh's would fight off the Reaper attack. Garrong wasn't available to coordinate them, as he was trying to keep the panic from brewing back on Earth. It was up to them now.

And now they waited.

The captain, Yanis Petry, spoke, noting the lack of reports of engagement from the Utopia and Asgard Systems, "We should have heard something by now. The enemy would have to come through those systems to reach us. Why haven't we-"

"Admiral, ma'am!" The communications officer exclaimed, "We've got Fleet Admiral Nakamura on the line. Says its urgent."

"On screen," Adina ordered in her commanding voice, and she watched the wrinkled mess that was Nakamura's face pop up on screen, the man never failing to unimpress her. But he was one hell of an admiral; days she wondered why he wasn't helping guard Earth. He was a better Admiral than bloody Viktoriya Arefyev.

Osamu was speaking instantly, "Admiral, you better gear up and batter down the hatches. The enemy just jumped in system, but they  _completely_ ignored Terra Nova and Teoh's fleet at Eden Prime. They're headed straight for Arcturus and... _nanite koto!_ Look how fast they move! For ships of their size, they should not be able to move at speeds like that! Admiral, those ships, by our calculations, will reach the nearest relay connecting to Arcturus in...5 minutes!"

Adina's eyes widened instantly, " _Five_ minutes!? Nakamura, stay where you are and inform Teoh he is to hold position over Eden Prime until he is ordered otherwise. We'll hold off the enemy," she told him, before he cut the comm, the screen splitting back to the void of space before them; a view now filled with that of warships preparing for battle. She turned to her comms officer, "Relay commands to the fleet and inform Admiral Singh; enemy forces,"  _oh to hell with it,_ " _Reaper_ forces will hit the relay in five minutes. Inform all captains of the First Fleet to assume battlestations. Sound the General's Quarters. Tactical, get the MAC loaded and coordinate fire with the Logan! Ready our point defense weapon systems, and tell the Benjamin Davis to deploy a screening of bombers around our frigates; have their interceptors prepped for launch on my mark!"

Exclamations of "Copy that ma'am!" came from the Tactical and Comms officer, and the bridge came chaos as officers moved from positions and prepared for battle, the bridge's color turning blood red as alarms sounded all over the ship, the VI's emotionless voice coming over the PA System, "General's Quarters, General's Quarters, all hands, man your battlestations. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Incoming enemy forces inbound in five mikes. General's Quarters, General's Quarters, all hands, man your battlestations. This is not a drill."

Adina Netanyahu simply stood there, alliance cap on him and over her head, and hands clasped behind her back, simply standing there, eyes blank of expression. She seemed to be unfazed; but deep inside, her mind was at war with itself, and full of anger.  _If only we'd listened! If we had gotten our heads out of our asses, and just listened, and prepared! Shepard warned us, and we dismissed him, and now they are here. The Reapers are here. Here to prove us wrong. Damn it! Hashem, if you're listening, please have mercy on your people. Please, do not just protect Israel, but the entire galaxy as well. I cry for your protection..._

The Reapers had essentially defeated the batarian hegemony in four hours, scattering its military to the wind. Whatever was left of their fleet was likely fleeing into the Terminus Systems, with their homeworld and home cluster now in rapidly expanding Reaper-occupied territory.  _And now they come to claim Earth and Arcturus. Over our dead bodies._

Two minutes passed. Three. Four. Until only 30 seconds were left.

They sat there, waiting patiently, Singh's ships at the relay ready to engage the Reapers as soon as they came through the relay. Maybe they would be able to snag a few kills, cripple a few capital ships, allowing the rest of the fleets to move in and defeat the Reaper fleet before they can close in on Arcturus Station. They simply could not afford to lose the Parliament. Their very leadership was on the station, and losing them would be anarchy. The Alliance would fall apart.  _Just like the Hegemony. And their lack of organization is only what made them easier to conquer._

Time was up. In the distance, she saw flashes of blue light, knowing that the Arcturus Relay was active and the enemy was coming through. The telltale yellow explosions signalled the engagement of battle, and they all sat back and waited. She gulped, and sweat pooled at her brow, just waiting for Singh's ships to announce their victory. But nothing happened. No announcements over the comms. Just deathly silence.

Finally, Admiral Singh's voice came over the comm, but it was not the words she had wanted to hear, and it sent shudders down her spine, "Fall back to the station! Fall back! Helm, get us out of here! Netanyahu, enemies coming your way! We couldn't hold them! They were too powerful, we had to break off! We'll bolster as best we can!"

Adina weakly nodded, "Copy that, Admiral. Get the Logan to my position." She then cut the comms, and waited for the Reapers to descend upon them. She watched the Logan into a firing directly above her, and watched in shocked awe as the Thomas Edison limped away, two of her engines blown completely apart by a grazing shot, and a large section of hull blasted away, exposing four decks to space, and one of its hangars looked to be completely destroyed. It cruised at half its normal speed, followed by the rest of the Third Fleet. She noted that half his corvettes, a tenth of his frigates, five of his heavy cruisers, and two of his battleships were missing. Her eyes only widened further.  _My god..._

"Ma'am! We have a visual!"

"Enhance!"

Enhance he did, and as the camera zoomed in, they watched the forms of the Reaper vessels encringe upon them. They were beyond massive; they were simply gargantuan. The capital ships were easy to pick out from the smaller vessels, and they were definitely the biggest; far bigger than any of their dreadnoughts, and she saw at least seven of them. They looked exactly like the 'geth dreadnought' at the Battle of the Citadel three years ago. Infront of them were ten smaller versions, of a type she didn't recognize. They looked like scorpions with their back jutting out like a scorpion's tail, and a red eye in the middle. But the rest of their small body resembled a crab; with four legs to support it, but now folded in as they travelled through space.  _Small by Reaper standards, but those things are still at least the size of a turian cruiser..._

As the camera zoomed into normal view, the captain informed her that the entire fleet could now hear her. She had to give the order to open fire before the Reapers were upon them. But there were seventeen of them. Singh had more ships than them; easily bested them 5 to 1. But she could surmise just how many he had destroyed.  _I bet he never even pierced their shields._

A flash of brilliant yellow, followed by a heated tungsten shell shooting forward through space signalled the firing of the Logan's MAC gun, followed by the rest of his ships opening fire; the blues and reds of heated tungsten, missiles, ICMBs, ballistic rockets and pulse lasers lighting up the void as they travelled towards the incoming force. Adina nodded, practically shouting.

"FIRE! ALL OF YOU, FIRE DAMN IT! EVERYTHING WE HAVE!"

Her fleet delivered. The opening of the attack was sounded by the thunderous boom of the Aconcagua's MAC cannon, followed by the rest of her fleet. Two ICMBs erupted from one of her battleships, followed by a steady, almost non-stop salvo, of javelin torpedoes from a destroyer. The Benjamin Davis unhinged its cargo, and swarms of fighters shot out to meet the enemy, but seemed to be destroyed in the dozens as spherical drones shot into the field, particle beams firing and impacting the fighters, destroying them with one hit.

The Logan's MAC round hit one of the smaller ships, the ones she had taken to calling Destroyers, and she watched as its momentum seemed to slow slightly, a blackened piece of armor showing up on their visuals she frowned, "Do a scan of the smaller vessels."

The scans were done, and confirmed her suspicions. The capital ships seemed to yield extremely powerful kinetic barriers, whilst the smaller Destroyers didn't possess any at all, and only had thick armor. That was something they could exploit, "Tell Admiral Singh to have his ships focus their fire on the Destroyers, whilst her fresher ships concentrated on the bigger capital ships. Again and again, her dreadnought's cannon reported, hitting Reaper after Reaper, and only then did she realize that the capital ships weren't even slowing down, and simply sped towards her fleet's center line.  _Oh shi...!_

Two frigates attempted to steer out of the way, but were too late as the first Reaper slammed into them, the two ships shattering like glass in their path, their crews scattered to the wind as their ships blew apart. The second one extended one of its legs, wrapping it around a corvette and crushing it in its grip as its shots harmlessly pinged off its armor, and from deep inside, she watched as a eerily familiar, blood red glow built up, before spilling out hot death, the kinetically sped-up thanix cannon firing a tongue of red flame that impacted the hull of a nearby light cruiser, severing it completely in two with one shot; seemingly ignoring its kinetic barriers like they didn't exist. The battle was quickly turning into chaos as her numerous fleet captains panicked, trying desperately to protect Arcturus Station in the disorganized combat.

"Bring us on a full broadside! Show them our guns; coordinate firing solutions, and fire at will," she ordered, watching as her ship swung to the starboard side, their guns now facing the enemy as they opened fire; missiles, lasers, two ICBMs and multiple rotary cannons. The Logan joined in the combat, and the Benjamin Davis fell back as it was swarmed by drones, the carrier's cruiser escorts trying to pick them off to give it a clear line of retreat.

The Reaper assault was relentless, and they didn't stop for a second. They seemed to know every tactic before they made it; using overwhelming force on them was pointless, as they would either speed up and ram any ships in their way, or they'd fire their thanix cannons, sometimes cutting through three ships in a row. It was a slaughter house, and their forces still had yet to do any damage.

She watched steadily in astonishment as a Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate, the SSV Washington, shot past like an arrow, narrowly missing the beam of a Reaper Destroyer as it latched onto a fleeing heavy cruiser, and it did a piercing dive, before unleashing a flurry of javelin torpedo strikes onto said Destroyer. Apart from shaking alittle, the Reaper barely noticed, and seemed to not be able to see the frigate as it flew past. Adina smiled.  _Those stealth drives are coming in handy. The Reapers can't see through them._

A piercing beam of light from the Destroyer marked the end of the SSV Warsaw, the ship gutted by the beam and spilling its contents into open space. Its eezo core followed the detonation of the vessel's drive core, the combined explosion engulfing the Reaper, but it soon emerged from it unscatched, the Destroyer gracefully lifted off the wreckage and up, only for the Washington to bombard it again. Adina continued to smile...

...only to drop it as the Washington went in for another strike, only for the Destroyer's thanix to light up and fire again. The stealth frigate practically barrelled into the shot, and the entire front half caved in from the impact, and the beam erupted out the other side. Still flying, the Washington's ruin slammed into the Reaper, exploding in multiple directions from the impact, before the Destroyer casually flew off, moving to gut its next victim. Adina could only watch in sheer shock, as even the state of the art Tantalus Drive Core and Stealth Drives failed to give them an advantage.

"Ma'am! The station!" The comms officer shouted in panic, pointing at the station on the screen, "Enemy forces converging on it!"

She turned in a hurry, and watched as three Reaper capital ships (or Sovereign-Class Reapers, or simply Sovereigns, as she called them) broke off from the main assault to move towards Arcturus Station, who lay forgotten in the battle. She immediately hailed the Benjamin Davis, ordering it to fly alongside her, followed by her next two battleships. With her ships beside, and quickly joined by some ships from Singh's fleet, and they sped towards the station at full military thrust.

_This battle is quickly going North. Damn it, we need reinforcements. I should call in the Sixth and Seventh Fleets..._

_Yeah, only for them to be slaughtered too. If they survive this battle, then humanity isn't out of this yet. I won't call them into the butcher. At least this gives them a chance to regroup._

It wasn't long before the two forces clashed between Arcturus Station, opening fire once more. Two of the Third Fleet's destroyers attempted to circle around them, but were quickly spotted by one of them and swatted one aside like an irritating fly, the hull tearing from the impact. The other barrated it with javelin torpedoes, but quickly fell victim as well to the Reaper.

Her dreadnought's main guns fought the enemy pound for pound, but they simply were not doing enough damage to amount to anything. And just as the Aconcagua was preparing to launch an ICBM, the Benjamin Davis came into view...

...only to light up as it was gutted by one of the Reapers' thanix cannons. The red light broke through the carrier's kinetic barrier, melted straight through the armor plating, and erupted out the other side, splitting the carrier clean in half. Unlaunched fighters, interceptors and bombers spilled out of its gutted hangar bays, exploding in space, colliding with each other, or simply impacting the hulls of nearby warships. She was simply forced to watch as the two halves that once represented the First Fleet's carrier floated off into space, destroyed.

And as she watched in horror, two of the Reaper Sovereigns ignored her counteraction completely, and closed the distance between them and Arcturus Station.

The station's defenses opened fire, GARDIANs alight and point defense lasers impacting their barriers, but it did nothing but irritate them. She ordered her ship be brought about, but it was too late, and she watched as the first thanix beam cut through space and sliced through the station, tearing a clean hole right through it, the second Reaper following suit.

_It's over. I can't stop them. None of us can. They're too powerful._

All around her, the First and Third Fleets were laid to waste. The hulks of dead starships floated through space, their crews long dead, bodies gliding through the void. The Third Fleet's battleships were non-existent, and the Thomas Edison, before limping, could now be found being torn apart by the legs of a Destroyer. Frigates fled the scene, trying to regroup, never giving in, but even their spirit in battle couldn't win.  _We've lost. We can't hold this position. The only hope now is to...is to..._

She turned back to the bridge, seeing that Arcturus Station was flying away in parts, the space station being torn asunder by the Reaper assault, which was now being joined by two Destroyers. She had no other choice, "Head for the relay. Get us to the Asgard System. Link up with the Sixth Fleet."

The crew merely looked at her slackjawed. But she couldn't afford to be weak. She could only hope that the three fleets protecting Earth could hold the Reapers off.  _And even that is a false hope._

"You heard me," she growled, "Arcturus Station is lost. There is nothing more we can do. If we hold this position, we lose the entire fleet, which means humanity has a few less ships to help in the continuing war. We'll link up with Nakamura and Teoh. Now. Get Admiral Singh on the line...if he's still alive."

The bridge crew slowly nodded their reluctant agreement, their minds slowly coming to realize the hopelessness of their situation. The captain looked defeated, and merely watched with a blank, horrified stare as Arcturus Station, capital of the Alliance, was ripped apart, slowly and surely, piece by piece. And to think, over 400,000 people lived on that station.  _And with them, the entire Alliance Parliament. Even the Prime Minister was on that station. And now they'll all die...because we simply couldn't protect them._

Singh's voice came over the line, and he sounded tired and defeated, "This battle is not going well, Admiral. And...and...Arcturus Station...it has fallen..."

"Which is why we can't stay here anymore. Ever heard of the saying 'live to fight another day?'" she asked, and seeing his reluctant nod, she gave a weak one in reciprocation, "Then that is what we must do. I recommend taking what's left of our fleets and making for the relay. We'll regroup in the Asgard System with Nakamura and Teoh, and we'll work out what to do from there. I recommend you send warning to Garrong on Earth; Arcturus Station has fallen, and the Reapers are on their way to Sol. Be ready."

"Ma'am, new contacts at the Arcturus Relay," the comms officer declared, and her eyes only widened in horror as he spoke, "It's...more of them, Admiral. I count at least fifty-two capital ships, and sixty-two smaller destroyers. I'm also counting one larger signature; it appears to be bigger than the capital ships; holy shit, its six kilometers in  _length._ Look at the size of that thing!"

 _'...he's six kilometers in length. He's their leader, and the biggest Reaper I've ever seen.'_ Those had been Shepard's words, and she instantly knew who it was.  _That's the one called Harbinger. Their leader._

"That's their flagship. If their force is that big, the one that attacked us must have been a screening force. A scout," she shook her head.  _We were defeated by a_ _ **scouting**_ _force. How do we hope to beat these things?_ "Which means making for the relay will now be suicidal. Make for the system's outer rim; once we reach the nearest relay to this cluster, we'll use that to head for Asgard. Inform the Logan of this as well," she also had to make a difficult decision. The rest of her fleet couldn't escape without a distraction, "Have the Tokyo, Nairobi, Baghdad, Darwin and Los Angeles cover our escape."

Noone even blinked. Not a flinch. They just carried out their orders; they had seen alot worse today. So they merely watched as the ships moved forward, the heavy cruiser Darwin leading, to delay the Reapers, whilst the Aconcagua and the rest of the fleet pulled out, followed by the Logan and the rest of Third Fleet. By the time they reached the outer rim, and the Admiral ordered the cameras turned to face Arcturus Station, she was horrified even further by what she saw.

The Los Angeles, Baghdad, Tokyo and the Nairobi were destroyed, and the Darwin and Los Angeles were desperately trying to hold them off, but were fast losing. Arcturus Station was a floating ruin; pieces of metal and hull floated in the abyss, with fires being blown out by the lack of oxygen. What had once been the beating heart of human civilization was now a smoldering ruin. The mass relay, meanwhile, continued to flash as more and more Reaper forces poured through, and by the time they left the system entirely, over one hundred and ninety-six capital ships had poured through, along with two hundred and forty-five destroyers.

And the relay kept on flashing.

The war was looking bleak for them. She ordered a message sent to Earth to warn them of what was coming.

She didn't want to even think of what they were going to do to Earth.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1106 hours._

_Living Quarters, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_Marcus Shepard._

He danced around the garden, swinging his arms up high as he held the toy alliance fighter craft in his hand, running around as if to put the vessel to flight. He laughed and giggled, while also trying to imitate the sounds of the fighter flying. He smiled, large and wide, and seemed to be in perputual bliss as he moved around the garden. He wore a large, wooly jumper, and his tiny, but long, legs were wrapped in skin-tight, blue jeans. His hair was a combed blonde, and his eyes turqouise, radiating a sense of innocence. His smooth cheeks radiated in the brilliant sun of Sol, and his environment was surrounded by the giant skyscrapers of Vancouver, standing vigil over him like tall sentinels.

His environment was a bright greenery, with lime grass and dark plants of many different shapes and sizes. He watched even further as the kid seemed to stop his motion, looking up as the continuous howl of a UT-47 Kodiak Shuttle, covered in Alliance blue and white, shot over his location, and he smiled as he watched it go by, as if in awe. Once the shuttle had disappeared behind the Committee building, joining the traffic of skycars up above, he turned back to see four children joining him, all of them boys and girls, and all holding toys of their own; alliance frigates, turian cruisers and asari dreadnoughts. Two more kids appeared, one holding what looked to be a...geth cruiser, while the other held...

He cringed at the sight of a child wielding a model of Sovereign, holding it up and making terrible horn sounds with her mouth, "The geth have come to deztroy you all!" the two kids shouted out, and one kid from the larger group stood out, holding an action figurine of...who else? Himself. He only watched with a growing smile as the kid charged forth, waving Commander Marcus Shepard in the air, cheering, "I am Commander Shepherd! Saveor of the Sitadell! And I will DEZTROY YOU!" They charged forth, and the kids pretended to do battle, with the one wielding the action figurine shouting words like 'I will destroy you!" "I'll kill you!" "Enemies everywhere!"

He liked watching the children outside play, but sometimes, it made him sad. He thought about this as he leaned against the window with his arm bracing against it, other hand wielding a forgotten datapad. He could have had children of his own. Could have been a father. But the call of war had called to him, and he had answered.

The life he could have had if he hadn't chosen the Marine Corps. If he hadn't joined the Alliance Navy.

_It would have been a short lived life. I would never have found out about the Reapers and stopped the attack on the Citadel and Saren. I would never have landed on Eden Prime, or served on the Normandy, or met Anderson. Or Joker. Or Kaidan. Or Garrus. Or...Tali. My Tali._

Damn it. Why couldn't he forget her for a few moments!

The six months they had been seperated without contact had been unbelievably agonizing, but he had learnt to cope with it and found other things to preoccupy himself with. But no matter what he did, she always worked herself back into his mind. God he missed her. He wondered when he would see her again.  _Wherever you are, sweetheart, please be careful. Please...stay safe._

The bliss of watching the children play down below ceased as he heard the door open behind him with a mechanical sigh, one he returned in full as he left the window's side, arm falling to his side as he turned towards the marine named James Vega, who still wore his standard issue alliance white singlet, insignia woven in on the front, and dogtags hanging from his neck, black hair formed in an almost mohawk fashion, but too short. The tattooes on his broad, thick, muscled arms told everyone who saw him that he was of Mexican descent. That, and his curse words. He had alot of those.

He snapped a salute upon getting inside, "Commander."

He exhaled, tossing the datapad of information he had onto the desk infront of him before taking a seat behind it, leaning back, "I told you not to call me that anymore, Vega. Not only am I not even military anymore, but I'm not a Spectre either. Cut the 'Commander' crap. And drop that damn salute too." He said it with a little bit more harshness in his tone than usual, but he really was sick to death of the respect he was getting from the marine he had only known for six months.  _I don't even deserve that title. I'm just a relic of times long past._

James shrugged, let his hand fall to his side, "I'm trying my best to remember that," he motioned to the corridor waiting outside, door still opened as he spoke, "I've been assigned to come get you. The Defense Committee wants to see you. Desperately, from what I've heard."

He raised his eyebrows, turning to follow James out the door, and in the first time since he arrived, "Sounds important. Lead the way, Vega."

He followed James through the door and out into the corridor, only to immediately run into one of the officers currently running down the hallway. He muttered quick apologies before turning and continuing his sprint, Marcus merely frowning as he saw Alliance officers and the like running down the corridor like crazed rabbits.

He managed to finally catch up to the bulky marine, his brows fused in a look of severe confusion as he eyed James, matching his steps, "What's going on? Everybody seems to be in a hurry."

James turned to him, a look of severe concern in his features, "Its bad, Shepard. Anderson can explain more. Let's just say that the situation is so bad that they've just declared a DEFCON 1. All the fleets have been mobilized, and the Marine Corps, Army and CEMA are on high alert. SEMA have even begun sending emergency broadcasts globally; the'yve ordered mass evacuations. You should have seen the streets out there Shepard; people are evacuating en masse.

Marcus remembered the children outside.  _They don't even know._ He knew exactly what was going on, but it still shocked him, and fear creeped into his mind.  _I thought we'd have more time. A year at least, but six months? They've reached us farther than anticipated! I just hope my team has done their jobs..._

He had been about to ask James what the DEFCON was about when they reached an archway at the end of the corridor, where a weary-faced Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson was waiting; his father figure, mentor, ex-N7, and newly instated Rear Admiral. Marcus couldn't help but smile as he reached the admiral. He wanted to hug Anderson, as they're bond was that close, but decided to remain professional, holding out his hand, to which Anderson took and shook eagerly. His expression wasn't as comely, as Marcus expected, but he remained cordial, "You look good Marcus," he shook his head, patting Marcus' gut, "Maybe alittle soft around the edges."

Marcus chuckled lightly, James almost forgotten as he stood there in a salute. Anderson nodded, snapping a crisp salute of his own, or as best he could in his officers' uniform, "As you were Lieutenant. You can follow us, just try and keep up," with the formalities done, his arm fell back down and he waved Marcus to follow him, the two soldiers moving into another intersecting corridor, moving towards a pair of stairs, the flow of officers still relentless as they ran to and from the area, "How have you holding up after being relieved from duty?"

The question took him by surprise, but Marcus answered nonetheless, "Well, my mum came to visit me at one point when she was off duty and finally given permission to do so. Otherwise, it's not so bad after you get used to the hot food and the ridiculously soft beds. You'd think I'm in a hotel suite," he turned to Anderson, the admiral's features worried and creased. He had to ask, "Anderson, that's besides the point. What's going on? Vega tells me we're at DEFCON 1."

"Trouble. I'll give you the short version," Anderson stated bluntly as they began to jog up the steps on their way to the building's conference room, "The entire galaxy lost contact with the Kite's Nest. The batarians mobilized their navy and troops at Khar'Shan and before we know it, three quarters of their navy no longer exists and the Kite's Nest falls to an unknown enemy. Then they...the unknown enemy...started heading for us. We initiated DEFCON 1, and the First and Third Fleets were assigned to protect Arcturus, while the Second, Fourth and Fifth defended Earth, the Sixth and Seventh defended the Exodus Cluster, and the Eighth waits in reserve. Garrong is still here, trying to keep panic from brewing. And to make matters worse, we lost contact with Arcturus Station and the Parliament half an hour ago. Then, Garrong received a message from Netanyahu that Singh and herself had initiated a complete tactical retreat and had left the system to regroup. So now the enemy is bearing down on Earth."

By the time Anderson finished, Marcus had stopped moving, causing James to stop and look at him with a frown, while Anderson stopped as well, slowly turning to meet his eyes, recognition in them. Marcus didn't need to say what they were both thinking, but he said it anyway.

"The Reapers. They're here. They destroyed Arcturus Station, they wiped out the batarians, and now they're coming here. To finish us."

Anderson gave him a scowl, but it was one of internal debate, not scolding, "The Defense Committee is...not quite as convinced. They're in fear, and I think denial is getting to them. They don't want to believe a galactic apocalypse is upon us."

Marcus shook his head, continuing his jog as he passed Anderson, "I'll make them believe. Too many have died to keep batting the bush now."

"Agreed," Anderson stated, moving to jog alongside him, James in tow behind them. They reached the top of the steps, and began moving down a long, large corridor with observation windows giving a beautiful view of Earth and the city of Vancouver outside. Just as they began to move down the hallway, Anderson spoke up again, "You'll need to get the Committee talking Shepard. Especially Fleet Admiral Garrong. He's still not convinced this threat is as you say it is."

He rolled his eyes, "Unless we're planning to talk the Reapers to death, those morons are a waste of time," he kept up his pace, eyes narrowed as he dove his way through the crowds of officers jogging by, "I'd have more luck trying to convince a rock to fight for the galaxy. Garrong should know better than this."

Anderson grabbed his arm, bringing him to a full stop. He turned to face Anderson, who still held firmly on his face as the admiral spoke once more, voice conveying the shock and understanding he felt, "They're just scared, Shepard. The galaxy has never faced an adversary like this before; not even the rachni managed to overwhelm us this quickly. In just four hours, the Batarian Hegemony was in ruins. And in the space of half an hour, two alliance fleets are in full retreat, and Arcturus Station likely destroyed, and our entire government dead. None of them have seen what you've seen. That's why they're so desperate to talk to you; hell, I heard Garrong suggest it. You've faced down a Reaper. Hell, you even  _spoke_ to one. Then you blew the damn thing up! You've seen how they harvest us; what they plan to do to us. You know our enemy better than anyone."

Anderson moved up ahead, letting go of his arm, allowing Marcus to slowly catch up. Just as Anderson was about to reach a door at the end of the hall though, Marcus spoke up, his mutter turning into loud words full of acid, "Is that why the Committee imprisoned me? Took my ship, painted it in Alliance stripes, and gave it SSV? Is that why my ship no longer belongs to me?"

Anderson whorled around to face him at that, but his face wasn't angry, merely annoyed, "You know that's not bloody true! You handed yourself over, don't forget! And you agreed to have the Normandy impounded!"

"Yes,  _impounded,_ but not given a new job and affiliation!"

Anderson sighed, shaking his head, as he turned to look at the man he considered a son, "When you blew up the Alpha Relay, three hundred thousand batarians died. Aratoht ceased to exist. I know you did it to delay the Reapers, but they didn't believe you. But now they know you were right, and they need your help. They're terrified. And quite frankly, so am I. None of us have encountered an enemy like this before. Before, humanity's biggest fear was nuclear war. Now we have alot more to worry about than some moron pressing the wrong buttons at a ICBM silo."

Marcus jammed his eyes shut upon hearing about the Bahak Incident again. He had wanted to avoid speaking about that. It was a memory he did not remember fondly, and it had lead to his seperation from his wife, crew and ship. But Anderson had been right; he had handed himself over willingly, and only because of his own guilt.  _I murdered every single one of them. And if my squad hasn't prepared the galaxy in some form, their deaths will have truly been for nothing._

But he was quick to defend himself, but it was in a less acidic tone, and more melancholy, "It was either that, or let the Reapers walk in through our backdoor. And Earth would be laid waste to then, not now. I gave our people time to prepare, and the Parliament and the Council squandered it, as per usual. Now we'll all pay the price for their fucking incompetence."

"I couldn't agree more," Anderson replied, motioning to the door near them, "But tell that to the Committee, not me. They're the ones in need of a wake up call."

He nodded, and they both moved towards the door, James moving with them. The door was guarded by two marines, and as they moved inside, Marcus noticed that the female N7 from his trial on Arcturus Station was posted inside, ordering troops around. He gave her a respectful nod, to which she returned within the confines of her helmet, and they moved inside into some kind of reception area, where chairs were stacked.

It was then he heard a familiar voice shout orders at the female N7, "Keeling, make sure the Committee is adequately protected. I don't want anyone getting in or out after we're set up."

"Copy that, Major," she responded, before turning away.

Marcus watched as Kaidan Alenko came into view, one of his best friends, going way back from the days of the Eden Prime War. He wore full alliance combat armor, complete with Navy blue and white finish, and he saw the golden bars of a Major in the Marine Corps etched onto his armor's shoulder pieces, the soldier obviously having had a promotion. He smiled at Kaidan as they approached, and the soldier returned it in kind, helmet pinned under one arm.

"Shepard," Kaidan greeted, taking Marcus in a friendly handshake before pulling back, "Didn't think I'd see you here. I thought you'd be out, back in our ranks, and leading troops around. Or at least, that would have happened if Anderson had his way."

Marcus grinned at the admiral, who merely shrugged before turning back to Kaidan, eyebrow raised, "So, Major now is it? Where did that promotion come from?"

Kaidan grinned, rubbing the back of his neck, "Necessity, don't worry. Although I'm a Major now, and in temporary command of the Normandy, so at least no greedy bastard is getting his hands on your ship. I've been keeping her warmed up for you," he jabbed a thumb at the door at the end of the hall, "Just...be careful in there. I've never seen them so scared before. Even Garrong seemed a bit...twitchy, I'll admit. Deliver the hard words, but steer clear of talk on Arcturus Station. That was a real blow to the Alliance."

 _Losing our government, and four hundred thousand people? Not to mention the countless hundreds serving aboard warships that no longer exist? I can imagine._ He patted Kaidan's shoulder, squeezing it, "It'll be fine, Kaidan. I'll be fine. You just be ready for anything. If intelligence is right, the Reapers will be heading for Earth next. Be ready when they do. And it was good to see you again."

Kaidan nodded, stepping to the side, snapping a salute, "Likewise, Shepard," he dropped his hand, smiling, "Good luck." He quickly turned to James, holding out his arm out and shaking his head, causing the Lieutenant to stop dead in his tracks, "Oh no you don't. That's a classified conference meeting in there. You'll be lining up with the rest of us jarheads. Get to your locker and stow your weapons and armor. You'll be with Keeling's platoon."

Marcus barely heard the conversation as he followed Anderson into the conference room.

The room seemed to be one of deathly silence; so much so, it almost deafened him. As they moved into the center of the massive complex, they could see the numerous vidscreens along the walls, displaying news reports on the CNN and the Galaxy Wide News about the sudden Reaper invasion, although the name Reaper was not mentioned. Behind them was a massive vidscreen covering the entire wall, but it was currently blank, with the feed at the top right saying 'Disconnected.' A desk sat on the left, where a ginger-haired woman in alliance uniform stood, and a huge table sat at the back of the room where a massive observation window allowed a clear view of Vancouver around them; it was currently where the Defense Committee sat, along with Garrong sitting in the middle.

Upon seeing them enter, Garrong immediately spoke, all members coming to stand as Anderson and Marcus both saluted the Fleet Admiral of the Navy. Garrong nodded to both, telling them to be at ease before speaking, "This session is now officially classified. All monitoring devices are to be switched off immediately. Let this session begin," all members present sat, with the exception of Anderson and Marcus, who merely stood in the middle of the room.

As the room came to be quiet, Garrong eyed Marcus with a calm, steady gaze and narrowed eyes. When he was done surveying him he spoke, his voice speaking of defeat in the years of experience he had in the Alliance military, "I...Shepard, this Committee, and myself, find ourselves in desperate need of your help. We're facing the biggest threat we've ever encountered. The batarians are finished. No use trying to ask them for help; Khar'Shan has likely already fallen. And now Arcturus Station is laid to ruin, our leadership murdered, and two of my fleets are now limping away with lots of broken bones. They barely got out of there with their lives. Admiral Singh even told me over the comms, to quote, 'I've never encountered anything like it. They had broken the spine of my fleet within ten minutes, followed by Adina's moments after, and that had only been the screening force.'" He faced Marcus, leaning back and wiping his brow, "Shepard, just what the hell are we facing here?"

"Yes, we've lost contact with every beyond the Sol Relay," one woman on the Committee stated.

"Whatever it is, it must be incomprehensibly powerful," one man gasped.

Marcus shook his head, hold up a hand to deny one woman who had been handing him a datapad, and his eyes met those of all the Committee members, especially Garrong, "I don't need to see the reports to know just what enemy we face. Its the same enemy I've warned you about for three years. The same one you thought had been swept under the rug and forgotten. But Harbinger hasn't forgotten, and now he is here, and he is only giving you a taste-tester of what's to come," his eyes finally landed on Garrong's, "I'll tell you what you already know. The Reapers are here."

Murmurs of descent entered the room, and he picked out choice sentences. "He was right." "They're here." "What, like Sovereign?" "God save us."

Garrong managed to bring order in the room with a wave of his hand, and he eyed Marcus for a few more moments before giving in with a exhale of breath and, in a surprising moment of defeat, took off his cap, placed it on the table's surface and let his head fall into his hands. As he spoke, his voice had lost the strength that it had once had, "For once, Shepard, I'm going to say it. You were right. You were always goddamn right, and we were bloody fools not to see it. Now we've dug our graves, and the Reapers have come to push us in," he inhaled, worried eyes coming to meet Marcus', "So I'm going to ask you; what the hell do we do? How do we stop them?"

In a moment of confusion, Marcus laughed. Everyone looked at him with angry glares and some of misunderstanding, and Garrong looked as humorless as usual, but when Marcus finally wiped the smile off his face, he stood forward, seriousness in his expression, "Stop them? Have you been fucking listening? This isn't about strategy or tactics, this is about survival! The Reapers are simply more advanced than we are. More powerful. More intelligent. They don't feel fear, their ships could chop ours like a axe does wood, and they know the mass relays and the Citadel inside and out. They won't accept surrender; they will not stop until every single one of us is wiped from bloody  _existence._ They won't blow us back to the stone age; they'll send us into the jaws of death, only to snap them shut. They are every nightmare you've ever had. They aren't an enemy that can be fought, but merely one you run from."

The Committee looked desperate for answers, and the woman spoke once more, her grey hair tied in a bun ontop of her head, "But...there must be some way!"

He turned to her, no pity in his eyes.  _If you had listened three years ago, maybe you'd be fucking ready. Maybe, you wouldn't be shitting your pants right now._ No words came to him in that moment, and he knew that no inspirational speeches belonged here; only cold hard facts.

"You want a way? Fight or you  _die._ That's the only way  _any_ of us will survive. We fight them, we destroy them, or they'll destroy us. I'm not about to give you the Sun Tzu; I don't know their tactics, or their weaknesses. Only that they believe us inferior, and will not take pity on us. Ever. Fight or you  _die._ That's the plan. How's that sound?"

Garrong stood up from his seat, glaring angrily as he spoke to Marcus in a booming tone, "We want answers, not speeches! Is that your plan? Because right now, you've helped us diddely squat! How the hell do we fight them!?"

Marcus moved to respond, stepping forward with balled up fists. Before he could however, the orange haired female stood forward, reading off a datapad. When she looked up, she spoke to the infuriated Garrong, her voice full of terror, "Admiral we..w...we just lost contact with...with Luna Base."

All eyes turned to her, and only Anderson's shocked, "The moon? They can't have gotten that close already!" could be heard in the room as silence took over. Garrong's anger faded and he quickly sat down, all eyes landing on Anderson as he spoke again, "We would have heard from Hackett if the Reapers had gotten that close. Why haven't we heard from his fleet, Drescher's and Arefyev's?"

The woman with a bun stood up, her eyes conveying her denial as she shouted, "Poposterous! They can't possibly have breached our defenses! We have three whole  _fleets_ up there, along with Jump Zero and our orbital defense platforms!"

The woman spoke again, terror ever evident, "Sir!" she yelled, "We've just received a communique from the Defense Committee in London! They have a visual! Transmitting now."

All eyes turned to the massive screen above, and watched as it came to life, displaying real time data instantly. They watched as blood instantly splattered the screen, followed by the screams of panicking civilians and the familiar airhorns of Reapers in the background. The sound never failed to send a shudder down his spine. They continued to watch as a British soldier dressed in the Alliance blue and white picked up his dead comrade's helmet and held the visor near his face, showing the panic on it. They could see a severed skyscraper in the middle, along with what looked to be three Reapers, exactly the same as Sovereign in shape, size and design, dotting the landscape, firing their thanix cannons into London's streets, with one being literally right over the soldier. They watched in the distance as a gunship flew by, only to be destroyed as what he recognized as an Oculus, a Reaper fighter that was spherical in shape, flew by and destroyed it with its own particle beam.

The soldier spoke, terror in his voice as the sounds of gunfire, explosions and sirens sounded in the area around him, "Buckingham Palace is  _gone!_ The Parliament, everyone, dead! London has fallen to an unknown enemy! They overwhelmed our defenses! We cannot hold them! We can't-" Marcus heard a familiar moan and the soldier turned in time to watch as a husk, followed by four more, barrelled into him, the husk clasping its mouth around his throat. The soldier screamed, "ARGH!" before the visual changed to multiple other news outlets, showing Reapers landing all over the world. Marcus recognized all the locations in an instant.

Berlin. Moscow. Tokyo. Beijing. Bahgdad. Gaza. Tela Aviv. Washington D.C. Los Angeles. Denver. Phoenix. London. Paris. Amsterdam. Athens. Belgrade. Brussels. Budapest. Madrid. Luxembourg. Prague. Kiev. Rome. San Francisco. Every single one of them came under Reaper attack, and he watched as a Reaper Destroyer climbed onto the Eiffel Tower, tearing it apart with a thanix cannon blast, followed by the destruction of the Kremlin in Russia.

"Sir!" the woman spoke again, "Russia, wait, Israel too! And China! And India! And Britain! Sir, they've all gone nuclear! They're preparing to launch every nuclear weapon they have!"

Garrong immediately stood, cheeks going red as he shouted, "Stop them! Stop them no-"

"Wait," the woman stopped, and her look turned into even bigger horror, "That can't be. Sir, it seems the Reapers are actually landing forces  _right ontop_ of the silos and have...taken the missiles. They can't go nuclear!"

"Those nukes could have dealt a blow to the Reapers," Marcus told him, eying him, "Which is why they're so desperate to make sure they're neatralized as a threat."

"Bloody hell!" Garrong cursed.

"You know what to do," Marcus told him, moving forward and pointing at the screen where a Japanese reporter was now speaking, in Japanese of course, a picture of Tokyo being ravaged by Reapers in the background, "Fight or die. That's the choice. Make sure you choose wisely, because even as we speak, Earth is falling."

Garrong looked defeated, without anything else to say. But before they could speak, Marcus felt a presence in his mind. A familiar, dreaded presence. One that filled him with fear and disgust, hatred and agony. He had felt in the Prothean beacons with Sovereign, but this one was different; he had felt it in his fight with the Collectors, and during his battle on the Project Asteroid. He recognized it well, and he knew it was close.  _No..._

"Shepard?" Garrong asked, voice laced with acid, "Are you even bloody listening to me?"

He turned to the Committee, and was about to shout them for them to get down when a loud, familiar airhorn was heard, the sound shattering the glass of the windows behind them instantly and sending it showering all over the Committee members. Garrong and all of them turned towards the source, and Marcus as the six-kilometer tall form of Harbinger landed in the Fraser River, the impact sending a tremor through the ground, its orange eyes looking into his own, and legs stretched out.

 _ **"Shepard,"**_ it boomed across the city towards him, as if it was able to see him, and even now, he saw three of its thanix cannons charging up,  _ **"Your time is at an end. You will be harvested."**_

It musn't be in his head, but Garrong seemed to widen his eyes at the Reapers' words, "My god...god save us..." he was frozen in fear.

Harbinger seemed to hear him, " _ **Your god will not save you. He will end you."**_ And with that, its thanix cannons fired, all aimed at the Defense Committee building.

Marcus felt the heat impact his face as he was thrown away like a rag doll by the sheer force of the blast, his body barrelling into Anderson's as they were both sent flying into the wall, and went tumbling onto the ground. The Defense Committee, Garrong and everyone else shared a similiar fate, except Marcus merely watched as the Defense Committee was practically vaporized by the impact of the shot hitting the conference room, with Garrong managing to evacuate in time to only be thrown into one of the vidscreens, and to plop down on the ground, unmoving.

The red haired woman tried to run, only to be torn to bloody ribbons as the table splintered and fell apart, sending splinters shooting forward like bullets, all of them riddling her body as she fell to the ground in a bloody mess. As Marcus' vision began to blur and he lay motionless on the ground, all he saw was the shattered glass littering the ground, the flames licking at the broken interior of the building, and the many dead bodies around the room.

He heard a voice calling his name, but he merely recognized it, as his ears were ringing. Popping one, heard his name fully this time, and recognized Anderson's voice. He felt himself quickly helped to his feet, and Anderson was in his face, his uniform torn in multiple places, ripped and some of his officers' bars having fallen off. He had a large cut across his forehead, but ignored it as he picked up the predator pistol of a dead marine, handing it to Marcus as he equipped his own carnifex, "We need to get moving. Check the room; see if anyone's alive. I'll try and raise Alenko and the Normandy."

Marcus nodded, quickly checking the chamber of his pistol was full before he began searching the room, checking for pulses. To his disappointment and regret, noone had survived the attack, and he wasn't surprised. Harbinger's thanix shot had absolutely gutted the room, with the kinetically powered shell only ending once it had cut through the conference room, the reception area behind that and the end of the corridor near by. The room was a mangled, unrecognizable mess when he was done.

He finally came upon Garrong's limp form, who seemed to be stirring. He rushed over and rolled Garrong's body over, and immediately saw the damage. The front part of his uniform was seemingly gone, with a large, piece of blackened muscle in the middle where skin used to be, blood oozing from the wound, the skin around the gaping hole blackened to the point of absolute darkness. His face was several different shades of pink, and he was blood leaking from his mouth. Marcus quickly made a move to apply medi-gel, only for Garrong to grab him around the collar and pull him forward. He looked into his eyes, those eyes that had sent him to prison, eyes now filled with terror and, simultaneously, a fierceness he didn't feel. When he spoke, it was ragged, but intelligible, "Stop...them...save Earth...no matter...the cost...do not...let them...win. You're...humanity's...leader now," and with that Garrong's breathing stopped, and his hand fell from Marcus' collar, body going limp as his head lulled backwards and impacted the ground, eyes gazing blankly at the ceiling; the life drained from them.

Marcus sighed, using his hand to close the Admiral's eyes. Another death in the growing war.  _And its only just begun. Hackett must be dead too; if the Reapers got to Earth, the fleets up above must be gone._ He remembered just who Arefyev's flagship was captained by.  _Mum...no...you can't be...I'm not jumping to conclusions! She's still alive, I know she is! She's a Shepard!_

Anderson came to his side, and Marcus got up, standing and facing Anderson as the admiral solemnly nodded, "I've tried contacting Alenko and the Normandy. There's too much going on and the Reapers must be jamming us. Our only hope at the moment is to get the hell out of here. No doubt this building will be overrun with husks soon, and we'd best not be here when they turn up."

Sparing Garrong's body one last look, Marcus followed Anderson out to the observation window, where even the frames for it had melted away. Harbinger, obviously believing them dead, had now turned to the otherside of the city, on the otherside of the river, and he watched in awe as the Leader of the Reapers charged up six different thanix cannons and fired them into the city, gutting four skyscrapers, and incinerating two streets worth of civilians down below.  _Even Sovereign only had two thanix cannons. Harbinger is so powerful..._

He turned, wondering where the other two shots he had fired had gotten too, and saw two more quickly large holes in the building's structure. Looking down, he saw they towered over the city, and it would be a long way down. Turning to Anderson, he merely nodded, pointing to what looked to be some pipes and they leapt down, the city burning around them.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1149 hours._

_Security Facility, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Earth._

_Marcus Shepard, Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson._

The city was in ruins, and in chaos. Two more Reaper capital ships had landed soon after Harbinger, along with three more on Harbinger's side of the river. He watched in the distance as skyscrapers crumbled, skycars were shot out of the sky, kodiaks blown up, and people ran screaming in the streets, desperately trying to escape the carnage. It was a literal bloodbath.

A Reaper airhorn tore through the air as Marcus and Anderson slid down a piece of the ruined building, moving towards what looked to be the Security Facility; where a ladder would take them to the building connected to them; a Safrax Industries skyscraper that hadn't yet been damaged. Smoke clogged the air around them, and fires raged around them as they moved along.

"Marcus, I'm getting a signal," Anderson declared, and they both stopped, lowering their pistols slightly as Anderson spoke into his open omni-tool, "Normandy, this is Rear Admiral Anderson, do you read?"

"This is...Major...lenko, we...you. Got Lieut...ga with me, and Keeling. The Reap...got to...shit, evasive...!"

"When can you pick us up? Are with the Normandy?"

"Cop...that," Kaidan replied over the radio, the static almost unbearable, and he could hear the sound of Joker cursing in the background as he avoided the rays of death spat at him by the Reapers below, "We'...assisting the ev...tion. Cannot...too much...just flying around. Anderson, you need-" then, just as quickly as he came up, he disappeared, and Anderson cursed silently to himself.

Turning to Marcus, he motioned to the security bunker up ahead, "Come on, we have to keep moving. There's a harbor down near the river where the Normandy can pick us up."

Just as they turned to continue, they watched an alliance interceptor shoot past, pursued by two Oculi. The interceptor was hit by two particle bursts, that sent it careening into the nearest skyscraper, with it basically exploded with the impact. The building groaned but did not fall, and the two Oculi seemed to move on. Shaking his head solemnly, Marcus merely continued on, Anderson not far behind.

Just as they reached a ladder reaching down to the security building, they both heard a familiar, but shiver-inducing, group of moans. Turning back left, they watched as a group of seven husks leapt down by one of the buildings, and started sprinting at them, jaws open wide and showing mangled, blackened human teeth. Both men turned and fired their weapons, and they managed to drop the mindless creatures with relative ease, allowing them to slide down the ladder and continue.

They found the security bunker in one piece, with tinted glass windows and a sealed door. Anderson moved up to it, beginning to hack it with his omni-tool while Marcus moved over to the railing, and looked down below. He saw a sight he wished he hadn't. Hundreds of men, women and children fled down below, and pursuing them was a horde of husks, hungry and demanding something to kill, driven on by the instinct the Reapers honed into them.  _Some of those people will become husks themselves. Others will just be killed. If I had to choose, I'd rather the latter. Anything's better than becoming...becoming_ _ **those things.**_

The same moans he had come to dread sounded nearby, and looked to the source, only to widen his eyes as he saw four husks climb through the railing and head straight for Anderson. Before Marcus could shout a warning, the admiral had swung around, omni-blade alight, and sliced the head clean off one of the husks, followed another swipe to the second one's legs, chopping them off. Turning to the last two, he was about to finish them when Marcus' predator barked, downing both, before killing the legless one on the ground. Anderson nodded his thanks, before pressing a single button on his omni-tool, opening the door instantly.

"Come on, we have to keep going. Can't stay here."

Marcus nodded, finding nearby thermal clips on a dead marine and relieving her of them, before closing her eyes and stuffing the spare clips in his pocket, using one to reload his pistol. They both moved inside, both hearing only deathly silence in the building; that, and the screaming of people down below, the echoes of gunfire and explosions outside, the constant report of the Reapers' many thanix cannons and of course their occassional airhorn.

Moving over to another door, they managed to open it, only to find the other half of the building  _wasn't_ undamaged. Two large steel beams had collapsed from the ceiling and slammed into the ground, displacing some of the tiles where they impacted and flames licked at the area inbetween them. Anderson, grunting, holstered his pistol quickly and moved under one steel beam, pressing his weight into it to lift it, but only managing to lift it slightly. Knowing he was stronger, Marcus took the beam and picked it up, throwing it away, giving them a path to the next. Anderson nodded his thanks, shaking his head, "This is a goddamn mess. Every minute those machines are here, thousands of innocent people die. I won't be held responsible for this. I did everything I could to warn them, so did you. So did your crew. So did Hackett and your mother. Noone listened. None. And now we've brought this upon us."

Marcus shook his head, both of them sidestepping the flames on the ground to reach the next beam, the both of them lifting it and tossing it aside before clearing the path and moving on. The ground up ahead had caved in, and they would have to use the sides to sidestep to the other side, but they could do it. Marcus, in response to Anderson's statement, merely shook his head, hardly believing the words that came out of his mouth, "You can't be held responsible for the ones who die. We fight for the ones left standing when this is all over."  _Did I just say that? What part of me died when I dictated that those who die are to be forgotten and ignored?_

Anderson merely nodded, moving to stand on the edge of the caved platform and beginning to sidestep to the other side, quickly joined by Marcus, "They hit so fast. I thought we'd have more time," Marcus commented.

Anderson shook his head, looking at him with mild agreement. He moved to open his mouth, but stopped just as he was about to stumble and fall. Marcus grabbed hold of him, pulling him back up, and the admiral nodded his thanks, speaking again as he remained still, "What you need to do is go to the Citadel. Talk to the Council."

Marcus scoffed, "The Citadel?  _Talk to the Council?_ What help will those morons be? I'm done trying to convince them of anything. The fight is on Earth, not on a space station in the middle of nowhere. I can't leave."

Anderson shook his head, and they continued across the gap, "The fight will be everywhere soon enough. You said it yourself; the Reapers will wipe out all life in the galaxy if we don't stop them. Khar'Shan, Earth...we're only the beginning. Many more worlds will fall if we don't find a way to defeat these bastards. And it all starts with you talking some damn sense to the Council," he leapt across the gap, landing on the other side, and was quickly joined by Marcus, who nodded as he pat himself down. A blast shook the building, causing Marcus to almost fall off the edge, but Anderson pulled him up.

"Thanks. I owe you one."

"I don't. That made up for earlier. Come on."

They reached a shattered window frame, where they watched a skyscraper burning in the background, accompanied by the rumble and eventual collapse of the one next to it; steel, concrete and people collapsing to the ground, fires ablaze in the streets. They watched three kodiaks fly by, the roar of their engines reverbrating the room they stood in. Marcus, leaning over, spotted a landing three meters below and jumped down, followed by Anderson.

He chanced a look up, and Marcus felt his breath taken away; not in awe, but sheer horror. The sky seemed to be falling; jets of orange light shooting from the sky to land on the ground, the orange flames evaporating as they passed the clouds to reveal themselves to be Reapers. All over the city they landed, including types he didn't recognize, including a crab/scorpion like Reaper that was far smaller than the capital ships; these ones were roughly 160 meters in height, putting them at a total standing of 524 feet in total height.  _They're huge, but by Reaper standards, so small..._

They rained from above, impacting the ground with a tremor before they emerged, raining death on the area around them, knocking skyscrapers aside as they moved their goliath legs. One of the smaller ones landed in the river, sending a gigantic stream of water shooting up into the air, before the mechanized starship stood to its full height and climbed up onto the harbor, before walking away and disappearing into the city.

As Marcus and Anderson approached a large platform, with the harbor being roughly 100 meters below them, they both fell to the ground as a Reaper capital ship landed in the river, a massive quake ripping through the area and shaking the building, causing it to groan and creak. They looked up to see the gigantic monolith standing over them, easily towering over the tallest building, and communicating in high-pitched electronic screeches, mechanical whirs, and the familiar airhorn. Oculi danced around it, and as he watched, it launched multiple orange streaks of light, obviously pods, into the city, where they crashed, and husks spilled out of them.  _That's how they managed to deploy them so quickly._

It seemed to stand in the river, and Marcus found his attention drawn back to Harbinger, who had now left the river and stomped into the city on the otherside of the river, a trail of destroyed buildings left crushed or destroyed, its many beams blowing multiple fighters out of the air, while simultaneously raining death around it. Ignoring the Reaper now towering over them, Anderson and Marcus got back to their feet, raised their pistols, and continued for the nearby platform, hoping they weren't spotted.

Only to stop again as the Reaper in the river let out a hyper-electronic screech, the impact of a MAC round bouncing harmlessly off its kinetic barriers; its shields shimmering. The sound of the MAC cannon had left both their ears ringing, and as they looked up, both of them were flabbergasted to see a Systems Alliance Battleship, the SSV Olympic, sitting over the city, its many weapons; missiles, point defense lasers, ICBMs, javelin torpedoes and its rotary cannons desperately tore into the Reaper's shielding, trying to deal damage, but failing. Marcus recognized the vessel; it had been part of the Fourth Fleet.  _Well we know what happened to them, then._

"A battleship?" Anderson asked, confused, "Those ships aren't rated for atmosphere."

Marcus watched as the Reaper lifted one leg out of the air, a jet of water coming out with it before it thrusted the leg back in, parting it as the Reaper began to slowly turn and face the warship, "And will be a deadship very soon. We've got to get to the other side. That Reaper is about to cut into that ship."

Anderson nodded, and they both sprinted towards the edge of the platform, and were about to make a run for a stairwell leading down to the harbor when they both heard the familiar boom of the Reaper main gun, and they both looked up in time to see a bolt of red energy slam into the battleship's shields, breach them in seconds, and then tear into the ship. They could only watch as the heavy, 100 megaton slug tore the vessel wide open from bow to stern, and its eezo core detonated, consuming it in a blash of brilliant blue that was so powerful he had to cover his eyes. When he opened them again, he only saw the massive shockwave from the explosion that hit the already unstable platform they stood on...

...causing it to cave in below them, and sending Marcus and Anderson sliding down a piece of bulkhead and steel supports to land in the harbor below. Marcus' head bumped against a piece of bulkhead on his way down, and he felt a bruise already forming on his forehead as he slammed, stomach first, onto the ground, winding him. Anderson landed nearby not long later, and Marcus merely looked up weakly, his blurred vision watching as what was left of the battleship collapsed into the city below, its stern bashing aside one skyscraper, before crushing another. Shaking his head to let his vision clear up, Marcus fumbled for the pistol he had dropped, finding it covered in dust next to a collapsed, yellow crane.

Slowly hopping to his feet, he picked it up and ignored the sore bruise on his head, the injury throbbing incesantly.  _If I hadn't had my cybernetics, that hit would have killed me. Would have cracked my skull wide open._

Standing on both feet, he moved over and held out his hand, helping Anderson to his own feet and allowing him to retrieve his weapon. Looking up, he saw the Reaper turning away, before his eyes locked onto the harbor itself.

It was a bloody mess; it looked like a nuclear bomb had just flattened the place. Fallen cranes lay all over the place, the walls of buildings and structures covering the ground, creating a mismatch of many different disjointed ground blocks. Dust covered them, while others were scorched from the heat of a thanix cannon hitting them. He noticed a few crashed fighters, what looked to be a few destroyed skycars, a crashed shuttle, and just near the water's edge, a crashed A-67 Mantis Gunship. The harbor itself; the decking in the water, looked unharmed, and most of the boats and even a cargo ship, still lay in port.

As they moved forward and towards the crashed gunship, they heard pained cries, along with soothing words, the voices indicating males. Marcus, sharing a glance with Anderson, quietly moved over and looked down, seeing what looked to be a artificial creek of water that had splashed in, the gap covered by the dismembered part of a crane. But stuck under that dismembered part was the leg of an alliance officer, a pilot by the look of his helmet, and his uniform was torn and bloodied. The man next to him was sitting in a crouch, applying medi-gel with his omni-tool. Seeing that the close was clear and he saw no husks nearby, he leapt to land near them, Anderson quickly joining him.

"You okay, pilot?" Marcus asked, and both men turned to him, the pilot in the process of biting back a cry of agony as his leg was slowly crushed by the crane part. By the looks of it, the sheer size would mean that his bone would be cracked, or even crushed. The officer tending him shook his head, turning back to him.

"No sir, he most certainly isn't. Getting shot down was bad enough, but now his leg is trapped, and I haven't been able to get him out."

"I told you, just leave me," the pilot ordered, hissing through his clenched teeth, "Those damn...creatures, will be here soon, and better they kill me than both of us. I ain't going anywhere in a hurry, so what's the point. Just make it quick. And preferrably painless."

A Reaper screech in the background, and Marcus crouched next to him, laying a hand on the pilot's shoulder, squeezing it, which grabbed his attention as he looked into the man's eyes, "You're not dead yet, pilot. This war is only just beginning, and the Alliance isn't done with you yet. We serve until we're no longer needed, you here? What's the Navy's motto?"

The pilot sighed, shaking his head and muttering, "What was that?"

The pilot spoke louder, with more confidence in his voice, but still with the lace of pain hidden behind it, "Serve until you're needed no more. Even in death, you can serve."

"Damn right," Marcus enforced.  _Forgot to mention that that motto is more for morale, than realism. Being dead means your dead. Anderson taught me that when I ignorantly joined the Navy. Even after that, I still signed up,_ "Which means we're going to get this damn thing off of you, and you're getting out of here," he turned to look at the soldier next to him, "Where's your vehicle, trooper?"

"Over there," he shakingly pointed, obviously scared. Marcus was surprised to see his finger land on the crashed gunship, "He was the pilot. I was the gunner. We got shot by one of those...dragon like creatures. We tried to make it across this gap, but once we did, one of the tremors brought a crane down, and part of it landed on his leg. And now...here we are."

"Don't worry, we'll get you out of here," Anderson assured them, moving over to the other side of the crane. Marcus nodded, holstering his pistol and helping lift it. Once lifted, they hung it in the air until the pilot could pull his leg from under it before dropping it again. They both grunted with the effort, slapping their hands together to clear the dirt as they joined again, pistols in their hands. The pilot nodded his thanks, before Marcus turned to Anderson.

"We need to keep going. Their gunship could have a working radio. The Reapers can't jam that."

Anderson nodded his approval of the plan, quickly checking the thermal clip counter on his carnifex before turning back to him, lowering the weapon, "Alright. But we need to work fast. The Reapers are working quickly, and this city will soon fall. We need to-"

An unfamiliar, but very horrific, electronic screech sounded through the harbor. He knew it wasn't a husk, or a Reaper, as it wasn't loud enough for the latter, and husks didn't screech. And as they both turned, Marcus and Anderson saw a group of seven creatures they had never even seen before.

They were ugly, and definitely of Reaper origin, that was for sure. They had obviously once been something else, if the dried out looking skin and cybernetic and synthetic implants all over their bodies were any indication. Their backs were a dark orange, black and brown in color, mixing into a disgusting hybrid as said back warped the body and even rose in height, moving to cover and actually merge with the back of the head, making their bodies seem like a body with a face. They waddled as they jogged towards them from the flames, and they had long, stubby legs, and incredibly thick arms, with their right holding what looked to be some kind of assault rifle of Reaper design molded into their arm, and aimed forwards. And as he looked at the face...oh god, their faces...

They were tormented faces; ones that were no longer organic or remotely sentient. Their mouths were stretched ridiculously low, and they had four eyes, two on the left and right, all aligned vertically, with a glowing at the front of their temple. All of these emitted an intense, perputual blue glow, and it showed even more as they screeched. And what shocked Marcus the most wasn't how they looked, but who they looked like. The four eyes, the mouth, the overall body structure...

_"...The batarians mobilized their navy and troops at Khar'Shan and before we know it, three quarters of their navy no longer exists and the Kite's Nest falls to an unknown enemy..."_

His eyes widened in realization.  _No, not husks,_ he mused,  _batarian husks...those were once batarians..._

Another screech, followed by a flurry of fire. Marcus immediately leapt behind a steel beam, remembering he had no shields, followed by Anderson, who had his carnifex steadied in both hands. The admiral turned to him, apparently coming to the same conclusion, "You saw those things? They looked like-"

"-batarians. I know," Marcus gulped, "Now we know what the Reapers did to them."

"Poor bastards. Noone deserves that, not even those SOBs," Anderson cursed as another burst pinged off their cover and he leapt from it, taking aim with his small hand cannon and firing, his shot connecting with the batarian husk and blowing through its mouth, tearing apart its cybernetically upgraded brain and causing it to just tumble to the ground, dead. The other six reacted fast, opening fire on Anderson, but Marcus quickly joined the defense. His predator coughed four times, two of them connecting with the belly of one abomination, before the next two shots hit its face and killed it. The other five attempted to keep them pinned with a non-stop assault of gunfire, but it didn't work, and the two of them managed to sneak left and rise up, using what time they had in the distraction to take down as many of the things as possible. Which was all of them. With the battle over, they reloaded, turning to each other.

"I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of them. Still, its kinda new having husks actually carrying guns for a change," Marcus pointed out, shaking his head as he slammed a fresh thermal clip into the chamber of his pistol.

One of the men behind them spoke, "We got word from some of the other systems they came in that they devoured the flesh of dead men to regenerate themselves," he stated, "It was horrific."

"Cannibals," Anderson declared, turning to Marcus, "They're cannibals."

Nodding with agreement, Marcus faced the two men, pointing to the gunship, "You two stay here and try to remain scarce. We're going to go the gunship to radio for evac."

Both of them simply nodded, not making a sound. Turning back to the crane part, both himself and Anderson walked across it, making their way to the other side where they equally wheeled around and moved to find a way into the gunship, moving around the left side.

A few more cannibals, and some husks, were deployed infront of them, and it took some time before both of them cleared the enemy and moved on, and they both had a feeling that wasn't the end of their new enemies. Just as they moved down a slope towards a clearing where the gunship lay, they heard another kind of screech, and looking up, saw a great winged beast, with a cannon fused into its mouth, two eyes on stalks, and great wings propelling it through the air with each flap. They had obviously been another type of creature, now twisted by Reaper tech, and Marcus immediately recognized it as one of the Harvesters he had encountered on Tuchanka when helping Grunt with his Rite of Passage.  _Damn, they make husks out of animals too? What's next, cybernetically enhanced varren?_

He heard twin screams coming from the two men they had left behind as the Harvester pounded their position with high-velocity plasma bursts, and Marcus had almost run over to their position before Anderson reminded him how moot it was. They were gone, and there was nothing they could do but continue. Reluctantly, he turned, and they moved into the wreck.

The gunship was barely recognizable, with its nose seeminly fused with the ground. The bodies of three marines lay about, one of them with an avenger assault rifle in his dead grip. Moving over to his body, he said a silent prayer for the man before holstering his pistol and relieving him of his rifle, finding a few grenades and tossing them to Anderson, who caught them easily. Checking the chamber was full, Marcus lowered his newly found assault rifle, turning to Anderson as the admiral crouched before a radio, one the marines must have been trying to use before being overwhelmed, judging the cannibal corpses also among them.

The holographic interface lit up bright orange, and Anderson was quick to speak, "SSV Normandy, this is Rear Admiral Anderson. Do you read? Moreau, Alenko, anyone? If you can hear this, we're down in the harbor, near the Defense Committee facility. We need immediate evac. Enemy forces are converging, and the area is hot. Repeat again, requesting immediate extraction. How copy?"

The response was Kaidan's voice, so hurried that it was obvious the Normandy was currently engaged, "This is Major Alenko, we copy you. You're in the harbor, you say? We read you. Is Shepard with you?"

Anderson smiled.  _That crew's loyalty knows no bounds,_ "He's fine; and kicking ass. He really hasn't gotten old. Or soft."

He heard Marcus chuckle softly, glad to relieve himself with some form of humor, however misplaced, "If anything, six months locked up has just left me with some irritated rage that I've needed to vent. Husks are perfect for that sort of thing."

"We copy you," Kaidan chuckled half-heartedly, before shouting, "Damn it, Joker!"

"I'm flying as best I can, but this damn bugger won't get off our tail! He's damn persistent! EDI-" then the comms went to static and Anderson cursed loudly, slamming the thing with his fists as the radio died.

"Damn it, radio's dead."

Marcus shrugged his shoulders as the admiral came to stand, "They know where we are now. They'll come for us. The Normandy always does."

The sound of rumbling thunder answered them as multiple pods slammed into the area behind them, causing them both to look at the source in a hurry. Out of the smoke came numerous cannibals and a few husks.

"Well they better," Anderson declared, priming a grenade and then throwing, "Because we're about to get busy."

The grenade detonated just as Marcus reached cover, the explosion tearing apart two of the approaching cannibals. The rest simply opened up on them, pouring everything they had into killing these two individuals. Their assault was absolutely relentless, but seemed entirely focused on Anderson; that was, until Marcus peeked over, assault rifle raised and spat a few bursts into a flanking cannibal, downing it, and causing the enemy fire to shift focus onto him, and he crouched back into cover.  _They're aren't much more intelligent than normal husks. Their tactics are fundamental, and they don't have any organization, battle order or command structure. They rely on sheer numbers, which is our one advantage over them. That, and they aren't biotics..._

With a grin, he summoned his dark energy powers, his body enveloped in blue, liquid fire as he stepped out and shot his fist forward, sending a massive cascade of dark energy towards their enemy in a colossal shockwave. It hit the cannibals with the force of a freight train, cutting a straight line through their ranks like a knife does butter, and sending them either flying into the water, or flying into walls; either way, it severely weakened their numbers.

Only for those numbers to be replenished as more pods landed, returning their strength to full. With a growl, Marcus crawled back into cover, but not more putting two bursts into a charging cannibal and reloading, "These damn things will overrun our position fast."

Anderson nodded his agreement, tossing another grenade at the enemy and waiting for its detonation, before thinning out their ranks a little more by claiming three, clean headshots on three of the enemy foot soldiers, downing them quickly before he rushed back into cover, eying Marcus, "You're right. We simply can't keep this up, and we're running short on clips."

_What I'd do for a good old weapon of 2183. I hate thermal clips._

Without answering, he stood up and launched another biotic assault, this time forming a singularity in their ranks, causing all of them to be sucked from the ground and pulled in, killing them very quickly, before the gravity well exploded, ripping the cannibals apart. And before you knew it, more pods landed, but instead of cannibals emerging, a far more memorable sort of enemy appeared. Or she he say,  _enemies._

First came the glowing husk, the ones he had come to know as Abominations, who weren't the ordinary husk; they exploded once they were close enough. Then came the Scion; the size of a krogan, with the armor of one, and the cannon that fired biotic shockwaves with the force of a claymore shotgun. And then one single Praetorian; a large vehicle made out of dozens of fused husks, with glowing, purple eyes capable of delivering powerful beams of death, along with the ability to fly. He had enough experiences fighting these things, and quickly hissed as the Praetorian fired its beams into his cover, followed by the Scions. He made sure to focus on the abominations, not letting them get close.

"What are those things!" Anderson exclaimed, "More husks?"

"You could say that," Marcus replied, "I encountered them during my mission against the Collectors; apparently the Reapers gave them to them to use in their war to abduct human colonies. I've fought my fair share, but I didn't think the Reapers still made them."

"My shots are just pinging off its shield!" Anderson informed him, firing his carnifex and watching his shots ping harmlessly off the Praetorian's shield as it slowly approached; scions, abominations, husks and cannibals flanking its sides. Marcus had been about to order a retreat, when he heard the sound of a fast approaching ship.

He was almost knocked from his feet as the entire ground shook, huge explosions consuming the ground where their enemy had once stood as heat brushed his face, causing him to stumble back. Anderson did the same, looking on in sheer disbelief at the double decker explosions, and watched, as the smoke and fires cleared, that the enemy was nowhere to be found. The Praetorian had been vaporized in the twin blasts, along with the rest of its reinforcements. Marcus grinned even wider as he watched the Normandy appear not long after, and realized that Joker had bombarded them with two javelin torpedoes.  _That's my pilot._

He watched as Joker slowly brought the stealth frigate around, its shuttle bay door slowly opening as it came to connect with the harbor dock, Marcus looking at the Systems Alliance colors of blue and white that once covered his ship, and the Alliance insignia at the tip.  _The Alliance own her now, not me. Kaidan is in command now, not me._

He lamented at that, but as soon as he heard more pods deploying behind them, knew now was not the time, "Come on," he urged, and he ran forward, jumping over wreckage as he dumped his assault rifle and ran for the open shuttle bay doors, Anderson not far behind. He saw Kaidan, Keeling and James appear in the shuttle bay opening, weapons brandished and wearing full combat armor, their weapons barking as they provided covering fire for the two of them as they ran full pelt for the frigate's open bay.

Just as Marcus reached the edge of the harbor, he leapt, landing on the Normandy's opened door and moving a meter inwards, greeting Kaidan, helmet on and his vindicator at the ready, with a smile, "Good to have you back, Shepard," the soldier replied, and Marcus returned his greeting with Keeling, also in full armor and James, who wore bulky looking alliance heavy armor, but without the helmet, and holding what looked to be a Revenant Light Machine Gun in his grip, the weapon spitting hot death and taking down dozens of husks as they rushed for the vulnerable frigate. The city burnt around them as Marcus turned to Anderson, his smile fading as he saw the admiral just standing there, making no effort to enter the Normandy.

"Come on Anderson!" Marcus shouted at the admiral, brows furrowing in confusion, "We've got to get out of here!"

As they stood there, they watched four alliance kodiak shuttles arrive, their hatches opening as they hovered and marines pouring out, opening fire on the husks below. With the enemy finally cleared out, the shuttles began to land, and it was then that he noticed the crowds of civilians crowding around to be evacuated as marines signalled them into their assigned shuttles.  _It's an evacuation..._

Anderson looked at the grouping for one more second, before solemnly shaking his head and turning to Marcus with a sad expression, "I'm not going."

Marcus' expression became just as solemn, and he opened his mouth to protest when Anderson continued, pointing his finger at the marines evacuating behind him, "Those men over there? There are a million more like them, and they need a leader. Our Parliament is gone, Garrong is dead, the many nations are being overrun, and the Alliance Navy likely no longer exists. That leaves only a short few, and I'm prepared to step up to the plate. If humanity needs a leader here on Earth, and if it has to be me, then so be it. But you need to go. The galaxy needs a leader, and you're the only one willing to stand up to the plate."

Marcus shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing, "We're in this fight together, Anderson! You and me against an army of Reapers. If you stay here...Earth's already fallen, and there's a good chance all these men could be dead or turned into husks tomorrow," he felt the words to be acid on his tongue, but knew it to be true, "We can fight this enemy together. You and me, like it could have been with Saren."

Anderson smiled sadly, shaking his head as he holstered his carnifex, "It won't be like that, Shepard. I'm sorry. Those men may be dead tomorrow; I acknowledge that. But what's the point of fighting for a galaxy that might be gone next month? The rate they're invading, it'll be that way. No, Earth needs a leader, and I need to be that leader. The galaxy needs you, and you have a squad ready to back you. Get out there, find them, and fight this damn threat. This is a fight we can't win; not without help. You and I knew that from the beginning. We need every ship and every soldier to even have a  _chance_ at defeating the Reapers."

He looked away, eying the deck below him like it was fascinating, but he just couldn't bring himself to meet Anderson's gaze. To agree.  _To leave my mentor behind to die on a world that is already doomed._

Anderson, oblivious to Marcus' thoughts, stepped forward on the harbor, talking, "Go to the Citadel. Talk to the Council. Convince them to help us. Convince them to help themselves. We can't win this war unless everyone is united. 'United We Stand, Divided We Fall.' Remember that. Bring help not only to retake Earth, but to save the entire galaxy from annihilation!"

Marcus snorted, meeting Anderson's gaze with narrowed eyes, "And what if they won't listen?"

Anderson merely chuckled, waving a dismissive hand, voice raising in volume, "Then you damn well make them listen! Bash them over the head the Reapers if you need to. And if they won't listen, go to the Migrant Fleet. Contact the geth; make that peace you talked about. Go into the Terminus Systems; hire Aria T'Loak and her armies. Vorcha. Elcor. Hanar! Whoever you can muster; if they can fight, get them to fight for our cause! The entire damn galaxy! Our fate is in your hands; you decide! No GO! That's an order!" His voice was serious to the core, offering no argument.

But Marcus knew the gesture was moot, "I don't  _take_ orders from you anymore, remember? I'm just a gun-toting maniac who just happened to be right all along."

Anderson sighed, his hands drifting to his pocket as his hand drifted inside, pulling out something and clenching it in his fist. He seemed to ponder what he was doing, thinking it over, before finally giving in, looking up and meeting the soldier's eyes, "Now you do. You deserve this, you always have," he tossed the bars of a Commander towards Marcus, who caught it without hesitation, placing it in his pocket. Commander Shepard was now a Commander once more.

They both gave each other a look, and Marcus realized what he must do.  _I must abandon another friend to save the galaxy. Why is this so familiar?_

He had left Ashley behind too. And that decision had haunted him to this very day.

With a final sigh, Marcus gave a reluctant nod, and Anderson saw the trauma and debate in his eyes. He knew this must be painful, but for the good of the galaxy, it had to be done. He nodded his agreement, speaking to Marcus for the final time in what he expected to be a long war, "You know what you have to do."

Marcus nodded solemnly, nodding as he began to back up the ramp; James, Keeling and Kaidan still waiting for him, but with weapons inactive and simply held in lower parry. As he backed up, he met Anderson's eyes one final time, putting as much determination into his voice as possible, "I'll be back for you. And Earth. I'll bring every fleet I can," he remembered Sovereign's words on Virmire, "Our numbers will darken the skies of Earth, and then they'll know that the galaxy is united. I'll be back, and I'll bring the help of an entire galaxy. I promise," before he turned away, he muttered loudly enough for the admiral to hear, "Good luck."

"You too Marcus," Anderson farewelled, and the Commander watched as the admiral turned around, walking back down the harbor and towards the evac site, and without looking back. Marcus sighed melancholy, and he turned back to Kaidan, who was ordering Joker to leave Earth and take them to the Sol Relay. Just as he finished these orders and deactivated his omni-tool, James appeared, weapon holstered on his back, "Wait, we're not seriously leaving! We can't-"

"Stow it marine," Marcus growled, glaring daggers at him, "That's an order. Get back inside. Joker...leave the bay door open until we've cleared the city. I need to see this. I need to know what we're fighting to stop."

"Copy that...Shepard," Joker replied, "And...its good to have you back."

He made no reply, and merely smiled grimly at Kaidan as he turned to walk back down the ramp, standing on the edge of it as the Normandy slowly began to pull away and ascend. Kaidan watched his back turn before moving into the ship, followed by Keeling pulling away an angered James. Marcus couldn't blame him, but in the end, there was no choice. They were leaving Earth.

Whether they liked it or not.

He watched with weary eyes as two shuttles took off and flew away, only to be replaced by two more. As he watched, terrified civilians, either weeping or crying out to their savior, were herded into the nearest shuttle as marines from both the Alliance Marine Corps and UNAS Army tried to save as many people as they could, amidst the chaos of the city's destruction.

He immediately recognized four of the children as being the ones from before, all of them with tears in their eyes and clutching to their mothers and fathers just alittle bit tighter everytime they heard an airhorn reverbrate through the city. Then the blonde-haired boy, the one who had carried the alliance fighter, appeared, standing beside an alliance marine, who seemingly ignored him, firing burst after burst at an approaching husk. The marines shouted at the people to hurry up, and as the blonde-haired child turned, both their eyes met in an instant. The child held up his hand to him, as if in slow-motion, only to drop it suddenly to cover his ears as an airhorn sounded through the air, this time alot closer.

Both, Marcus and all the civilians turned in an instant as one of the smaller Reapers, the ones that walked as tall as 160 meters, came around the corner, red eye radiating death. One leg lifted up, sending nine destroyed skycars flying, before it landed again, crushing a Mako that had been harmlessly firing at it. Turning downwards, it noticed its victims below, and screeched again, the red glow increasing in color.

Everyone screamed and the marines were overwhelmed as people rushed onto the shuttles en masse, overcrowding them. He watched two children fall to the ground in the chaos, before being silenced as their necks were snapped by the people stampeding over them, desperately trying to escape. A tear fell down Marcus' cheek before he realized what had happened, and he just wanted to turn away, but he forced himself to watch.

_Like scared animals trying to escape a predator..._

He watched as one shuttle took off, people falling out of it in droves as the hatch closed. He watched three people crushed by its closing, and the shuttle tilted as it took off, packed beyond its capacity. As it slowly lifted off the ground, it gained more and more ascension. The blonde-haired child's eyes met his one more time before he disappeared inside another shuttle, this one less packed as it took off with more ease, ascending quickly into the air.

As the two shuttles slugishly took off, the third shuttle was still being packed when the Reaper fired its beam, a constant stream of molten metal impacting the ground and tearing it asunder, vaporizing civilian upon civilian, marine upon marine when they came into contact with it. It slid across the ground, devastating more of the harbor, before hitting the shuttle on the ground, blasting it apart in one shot. More tears fell as he watched the two shuttles try to escape, only for the Reaper to divert its attention, firing again at the tilted shuttle, which immediately exploded upon contact. The shuttle containing the blonde-haired child managed to acellerate across the river...

...only to be blown apart as the Reaper shifted focus, and fired on it. Marcus finally turned away, wiping his tears away and waiting for them to dry, before turning away and walking up the ramp, ordering Joker to speed up their leave. As he stopped inside the shuttle bay, he heard the bay door begin to close, and he simply stood there, looking at his pocket. His Commander's bars...they felt bigger than normal. Feeding his hand inside, he took out the bars, opened his fist, and watched them in the palm of his hand.

_"Now you do. You deserve this, you always have."_

His hand clenched again, and he placed the bars back in his pocket, looking back up just as the Normandy entered the atmosphere and the door sealed behind him. He inhaled, before moving into a fast walk, heading towards Kaidan, Keeling and James.

He wasn't just a Commander anymore. No, what Anderson had meant was that he was now promoted.

He was Captain Shepard now.

And the Reaper War had only just begun.

**"The Fall of Earth really hit you hard. You never liked talking about it."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Of course not. No one wants to see their homeworld fall before their eyes, and then be forced to leave it to save it. Especially when you must leave your life's mentor behind."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"If its as you describe, then the Fall of Earth was truly only the beginning. I'm assuming you headed to the Citadel next?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"That had been the plan when we left Earth, but there was a...course deviation."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Course deviation? What kind?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"An important one. Without it, we could have lost the entire conflict. It was a game changer. It changed the course of the war in our long-term favor."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**There's the first chapter. And yes, the second chapter is Priority: Mars. Don't know, I will provide an explanation for just how Vigil didn't know or mention the 'magical weapon that kills all Reapers and solves all the game's challenges.' But now, its time to discover that the Reapers really aren't the only enemy in this war...** _

_**Keelah Se'lai! This story is going to be one hell of a ride, so I'd buckle your seatbelts.** _


	3. Archives of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Earth having fallen to the Reapers, hope remains on Mars. Shepard and the crew investigate, and find more than just a sliver of potential salvation. But they aren't the only ones who want it.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**ARCHIVES OF HOPE**

_June 2, 2186_

_1218 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Passing Luna._

_The Reaper War, Fall of Earth._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

His footsteps seemed to echo through the bay as he left the bay door's side, moving towards what looked to be some kind of...armoury? Actually, he decided to stop for a moment, and took a good long look around the shuttle bay. The lighting was considerably darker than he remembered, and the vent ducts that lined the bottom deck were now missing, replaced with smooth deck plating.

The area where the second kodiak shuttle used to be was now replaced with a massive storage of hap-hazardly placed crates, and in the middle of all that was a makeshift armoury; a bench with a light placed over it, a disassembled N7 Crusader shotgun ontop of its surface. Behind it was three storage lockers, along with five more further back, likely holding the ship's weapons. Above that was a metal bar stretching across, likely for pull-ups.

Before the elevator was the usual console setup, but Marcus could now see a locker for armor on the right steel support strut, and the entire interface seemed to have more consoles this time, where a dark-skinned man in alliance standards was typing; a man he didn't recognize. To his left was a long launch-pad, like a runway that was railed off, and sitting at the end, on the elevator side of the bay, was a brand-new kodiak shuttle, colored Alliance blue and white, but with a darker finish and sitting above it, a single replacement suspended on a metal cable. But this design looked different to stand kodiaks; this one had two, front-mounted cannons, and the hatch appeared to have a lower, segmented section, and overall, it looked larger than its original counterpart. Same was said for the one above it.

Overall, the bay looked largely unfinished; likely the retrofit hadn't been completed, and they had to leave it like that during their haste to escape the shipyard. A few lights were even flickering on the ceiling.

His observation of the bay was abruptly interrupted as he was brought back to the present, James suddenly in his face, tossing his helmet to the ground and his face contorted in rage, "Where the hell are we going!?  _We can't leave!_ That is our bloody homeworld down there! We can't just leave them to die! I was born on Earth! That's my  _home._ "

Marcus sighed, pushing past James with relative ease and making his way over to the man operating the console near the shuttle, "Anderson and I both know what has to be done. The only way to save Earth now is to leave it. Gather help."

"That's bullshit!" James exclaimed, and he could hear footsteps behind him as James pursued him across the bay. Kaidan and Keeling now joined the man, and Kaidan seemed to be talking to him, "Thouands are dying down there! Are we seriously going to just leave them down there? Take us back down there! Take us back to Earth!"

He had enough, spinning to face James, his face also contorted in irritation, "And do what, genius? Throw pebbles at them? Because that might as well be what we're doing! It took three fleets to fight them. And they got annihilated!  _Three._ Tell me James, just what do you think we can do?"

James seemed lost for words, but quickly regained his composure, poking a finger in his chest, "You're a damn hero! You could at least help evacuate! But this is what you do? Piss off, leave Anderson behind, and leave everyone to die? That isn't the Commander Shepard I know."

 _More hero worship. For fuck sake,_ "For starters, its  _Captain_ Shepard now," he moved forward, grabbing James by the color and lifting him up into the air with ease, despite the heavy armor the marine wore, "And you need to take a big fucking look around you, because this isn't a game anymore. Heroics won't win this war; quick decisions will. I can't afford to play the good guy in this, and neither can you. This is war; there are no rules. I will do anything to win, even if that means sacrificing Earth to stop these bastards," by the time he was finished, he was silently fuming.  _I will not tolerate this hero worship anymore. We fight or we die. There is no other option._

James looked down at him with wide eyes, "But its my home..."

"You think losing your home is bad? Try losing your entire family. My mother was a captain on the Orizaba in the Fourth Fleet. Her body is probably floating through space now," he growled, "We've all lost something, on Earth or over it, but we'll be losing alot more before this war is over. Its only going to get worse; and you either get with the program, or you die. This isn't a democracy anymore; if you want to go back to Earth, fine, but you'll be taking a shuttle from the Citadel, because the Normandy isn't going back. Now control yourself."

He relieved his grip on the soldier, dropping him on his feet. James recovered himself, before taking a step back, waving a dismissive hand, and growling loudly, before kicking a crate in his way aside and moving towards the armoury. Marcus was barely fazed by the outburst, and merely headed over to Kaidan and the man at the console.

The man immediately snapped a firm salute, his entire posture straightening like a taught bow, "Comma-Captain...sir."

As Marcus returned the salute, he allowed himself to observe the alliance officer. The man wore a standard issue alliance officer uniform, the bars of a Lieutenant in the Alliance Navy pinned on his left breast. His eyes landed on his face next. His skin was a deep coffee brown, much like Jacob's, but his eyes were more narrowed, his nose slightly smaller, and his jaw less firm. His ears poked out slightly, and he had smooth cheeks until you reached the area around his mouth, where medium stubble poked out. He had thin eyebrows, and just enough black hair to keep from being bald. And his eyes shone bright blue.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Marcus replied, dropping his own salute as the other man did. Judging by the man's accent, he was American, "What's your name, trooper?"

The man laughed, shaking his head, "No trooper, sir. I'm a pilot. By the looks of it now... _your_ pilot," he shuffled, nodding as he continued, "As for the name, I am Lieutenant Steve Cortez, Alliance Navy."

"Welcome to the Normandy Cortez," Marcus greeted, holding out his hand, to which Cortez hesitantly looked at it before accepting, shaking his captain's hand before retracting, "Guess I now have three new members to my crew."

"Four, actually," Kaidan piped up, jabbing a thumb at the elevator, "You haven't met Comms Specialist Traynor. Although, all of this is rather unexpected, actually."

"How so?" Marcus quizzed.

Cortez decided to fill in, shrugging his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, we weren't actually meant to be part of your crew at all. Myself, Traynor and everyone else were all here for the retrofits only. Traynor was assigned here due to her tech skills, and was meant to pull apart and analyze that quantum entanglement communicator Cerberus gave you. Me? I'm the pilot. I just used my shuttle to ferry supplies from the port to the ship. That's all. My assignment here wasn't meant to be permanent."

Marcus grinned, "Trust me, alot of us never 'intended' to stay...yet here we are," he lost his grin as it grew though, "The reasons for it however are...quite different this time."

Cortez waved a dismissive hand, "Its like you said; Earth is only the beginning. The galaxy will soon be flooding with those bastards. I heard the reports about those Reapers. Shocking stuff. I'm just happy I pilot shuttles."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, an idea popping into his mind, "You got any experience in combat zones? Extraction? Insertion?"

Cortez grinned toothily, "Sure do. That's why I signed up. Used to pilot the old F-61 Trident interceptors back during my posting on the SSV Hawking. They're alot faster than kodiak shuttles, but I can definitely manage them. You want a pilot, you choose me."

"And you're chosen," he nodded, patting the man on the shoulder, "Now you get to put up with our shit," he motioned between him and Kaidan, the latter chuckling. As they all turned, they saw James sitting in the corner, his armor stripped off and lying all over the bay floor, and he seemed to be brooding, looking blankly at the floor. Marcus could feel his pain, and understood it.

"Leaving Earth to save it," Kaidan muttered, coming to stand by his side, the captain turning to face the biotic sentinel as he shook his head lightly, "It couldn't have been an easy decision to make."

"The best decisions are never easy," Marcus replied, and Kaidan merely looked at him as he went on, "Its making them count that makes it all worth it," he met Kaidan's eyes, "We'll come back Kaidan. We'll return to Earth, and save it. With the biggest armada in history. We'll make the Reapers shit themselves, that I can promise."

"How?" Keeling spoke for the first time since the ordeal, and both of them turned to the N7 who stood there, weapon holstered and helmet still on as she spoke, "You can't just slam a force like that together. It takes alliances, treaties, brotherhoods. You make friends, you make enemies, you piss people off, hug a few more, and then threaten some. It isn't something you assemble in a month. It takes time."

"Then we'll make time," Marcus stated, "And we'll start with the Council," he turned back to Kaidan, dropping his cold facade for but a moment as he eyed the elevator with disdain before turning back to Kaidan, "So, give me the damage report, Alenko. I've seen the Shuttle Bay, and I'm not impressed. How much of the ship has the Alliance changed?"

Kaidan smirked, liking the hint of annoyance in Marcus' tone. He couldn't say he didn't feel it as well, but to be honest, what did he expect under the Alliance whip? "Surprisingly little, actually. They may have planned to change more, but they never got around to it. Traynor can give you the full tour, but I'll just sum it up for you. Engineering is completely unchanged, and is the maintenance area below where Jack used to hide. The Garbage Disposal Area's been removed though, and its been replaced with 'VIP quarters' as the crew call them. Its a clean room; what for, I haven't a clue."

Marcus groaned, "Continue."

Kaidan resisted the urge to laugh, "The Cargo Port where Grunt used to hang out got cleaned out, and I guess its just a storage area now. They tossed out his tank, and some other changes may have happened, but I didn't bother to look. As for the Crew Deck; alot worse, I'm afraid. For god know's what reason, they added a poker table in the Lounge where Kasumi hung out, they left the crew's quarters and Life Support alone, as is the same with Port Observation. The XO's quarters have been cleaned out and they never got to change it, the AI Core and Medical Bay have been left untouched, and a few consoles were added to the Gunnery Control, and it was extended slightly."

"Garrus will have a field day with that setup," Marcus declared, grinning, but Kaidan could see the sense of sadness that eminated from mentioning the absent turian, "Keep going."

"The biggest changes were to the CIC deck. A door has been added to the cockpit, and the Tech Lab has been switched from its original location to the armoury's original location, which in turn has been moved to the Shuttle Bay."

"I've noticed," the captain deadpanned, glancing at the 'armoury' that James currently sat in, "Looks considerably smaller now, too. But I understand the change. Never understood why Cerberus thought it a great way to store all their weapons on the command deck."

"Exactly," Kaidan replied, before continuing, "Traynor's made her home at Kelly's old terminal, and a...don't ask me why, but remember that pointless, empty box inbetween the CIC and the old Tech Lab's location?"

"Yeah..." Marcus trailed off, not liking where this was going.

"Well, they decided to fill it," Kaidan replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "Added a security checkpoint. Two officers currently man it, Privates Bethany Westmoreland and Sarah Campbell, and its just a metal detector field. Pointless thing, but I guess it makes sense. As for the Tech Lab, in addition to moving it to the Armoury's original position, its been replaced by a 'debriefing' room. They basically removed the old Conference Room, but kept the table, using it for that room, and surrounding it with glass. The corridor between the Armoury and Tech Lab has been filled with four bulkheads, and a War Room was added, that is accessed through the debriefing room. The Quantum Entanglement Communicator was removed, but we added a new Alliance-built one. Not quite as advanced as Cerberus', but it serves its function. As for your cabin, they've literally done nothing to it. The airlock you installed for Tali is untouched, and the cabin itself has had no changes made to it. Noone's even set foot on that deck. Literally."

Marcus nodded.  _Good. I'd have killed the asshole who removed that airlock. Noone touches my home._ _ **Our**_ _home._ Thinking of Tali wasn't as painful anymore, especially since he could not only contact, but now visit, her now. He made a move towards the elevator, but was stopped as he heard EDI's voice over his intercom, "Captain, it is good to see you again."

"EDI," he smiled warmly, "Its good to hear another friendly voice. Been looking after Joker?"

"Jeff is fine. He has been keeping me safe, and he says I've done quite well; acting as a VI," the AI responded, and he swore he heard a smile in her voice, "It is good to be under your command again. Being surrounded by alliance personnel, especially nosey ones trying to access my core, has been...quite interesting."

He chuckled, "Its okay, EDI. Noone will get into your core, I know that much."

"Thank you Shepard," she replied, before speaking again, "We have just received an emergency call from the SSV McKinley near Neptune. Fleet Admiral Hackett has taken what was left of the Earth Defense Fleet and is making leeway for the Sol Relay. He has ordered an official quarantine and evacuation of all Alliance personnel from the system, a complete trade embargo, and is attempting to contact your omni-tool directly."

Marcus seemed to immediately stop in his tracks, and he whorled in an instant, his eyes meeting Kaidan's, "Wait, you're saying the communication is coming from the McKinley? Hackett's alive?"  _And maybe my mother too..._

EDI's reply was instantaneous, "Yes, although the extent of damage done to his fleet is currently unknown. Aside from that, Admiral Hackett did survive the invasion of Earth, and is currently in orbit of Neptune."

He nodded, bringing up his omni-tool, "Put him through EDI."

The AI did so without verbal reply, and he watched as his omni-tool sprang to life around his wrist, and Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett's face appeared on screen, his face just as old and grissled as it was before his arrest. The man seemed to be sitting in his command chair on the McKinley's bridge, and he could see that it was a flurry of activity.

Hackett replied instantly, sighing with relief, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard. When I heard the reports from Earth, I thought you were dead for sure. Is Anderson with you? What about Admiral Garrong? Have you heard from him?"

Marcus gulped, looking at Hackett sadly, "Anderson stayed behind sir; they need a leader, he said, and that leader is him apparently. As for Garrong...Admiral sir, Garrong's dead. I watched him die. Harbinger killed him and the entire Vancouver Defense Committee right before my eyes."

Hackett looked at the ground for a second, before shaking his head, and looking back up, "Based on the line of succession, with Garrong dead, command of the Alliance Navy goes to the one closest to promotion...which just happens to be me. I'm Fleet Admiral of the Navy now," he slammed a clenched fist into the control interface on his chair, meeting Marcus' eyes, "Always knew I'd be promoted someday, but I never knew it would happen like this."

"None of us did," the captain replied, "Anderson has reinstated me, and I've been promoted to Captain. Is there a particular area where the Normandy can regroup with what's left of our ships?"

"Promoted? Can't say you haven't earned it. And right now, we need all the able-bodied officers we can get," Hackett muttered, nodding as he tapped a few controls on his interface, "Yes. We'll be regrouping with the rest of the fleets in the Andura System; then we'll take it from there. Netanyahu and Singh's fleets took a beating, but so far they, and their dreadnoughts, are intact. Teoh and Nakamura's fleets were totally ignored, so they haven't taken a beating whatsoever, and from what I've heard, Ward's fleet is currently engaging a Reaper scouting force in the Artemis Tau Cluster. He's taking a beating, and he's going to try to reconsolidate his forces over Ontarom before he tries to regroup with us. As for my fleet, Arefyev's and Drescher's..."

Marcus gulped, dreading this moment, "What's the damage Admiral?"

"My fleet took one hell of a beating, and I think the McKinley lost its port engine from a grazing shot," he rubbed his temple, shaking his head, "The other fleets weren't so lucky. Arefyev had to sacrifice half of her ships just to provide us a line of retreat, but it wasn't long before they fell apart. Drescher...she stayed behind to give us time to escape."

"Wait, are you telling me that...?"

Hackett nodded solemnly, eyes closing, "Afraid I am, Captain. The Second Fleet is gone. Nothing left of it. Drescher even took her flagship, the SSV Shasta, and lead the way. I watched it unfold Shepard. The Shasta was blown to pieces, but the fleet stood their ground. But their gone Shepard. Not a ship left, or fighter. No escape pods, nothing. Drescher's dead, along with her flagship."

Marcus mentally cursed the Reapers in his mind.  _An entire fleet just wiped out. I never liked Drescher, but damn it...that's two admirals dead, along with an entire fleet. I hope the news gets better,_ "What...what about Arefyev's flagship? The Orizaba? Is my mother still alive?" He hoped upon all that she was.

Hackett nodded, a small smile on his lips, "That, I can say, is the first piece of good news. Arefyev survived, and the Orizaba got out almost completely unscatched. Half of her Fourth Fleet is gone, but her ship survived. As for the Orizaba's captain; she's alive and well; rest easy on that, captain."

Marcus nodded, "Thank you sir."  _There might be hope for this war yet._ Shaking his head, both of their faces became solemn again as the former commander spoke, "Just how bad was it, Hackett? I saw the attack on Earth, but I wasn't there during the fleet engagement."

Hackett inhaled through his nose, giving a mirthless chuckle as he scratched the bridge of his nose, "Just as you said it would be, Shepard. I know my fleet fought Sovereign head on three years ago, but that was just  _one_ Reaper. When hundreds of those bastards came pouring through the relay...we sustained heavy losses, as you already know. Our orbital guns around Pluto, Uranus, Jupiter, Neptune...systematically obliteratered. Strangely, they seemed to leave Mars well enough alone, and their shipyards and ground facilities have been left unmolested as of yet, but I doubt it'll stay like that for long. Our fleet engaged them over Earth, but even with the orbital gun platforms to aid us, it didn't do much. We didn't get a single kill, Shepard, not one. They blew through us, destroyed the orbital guns, and then made straight for Earth. They were dropping globally in seconds."

"What about Jump Zero?" Marcus asked, confused as to the status of the large space station that Kaidan had grown up on, "And Luna Base? What happened to them?"

Hackett shrugged, "We know that three of the ones we're calling 'Destroyers,' that's the small, crab-like walkers, deployed onto Luna and completely destroyed our launch facilities and bases down there, so our Hannibal-VI combat suites couldn't help us. As for Jump Zero...last we checked, the Reapers had taken the station, but we never actually saw what they did with it. Its safe to assume they destroyed it, along with Arcturus Station. The enemy force was just overwhelming, Shepard. Never, in all of human history, have we encountered an enemy so merciless. So fearless. So...unbeatable."

_Oh, but they can be beaten. Sovereign was beaten. The Human-Reaper was beaten. I watched Desolation and Primal get vaporized by the Alpha Relay explosion. Four Reapers have died...they can be beaten. It just takes every bloody weapon in the galaxy to do it._

"There's no way we can defeat them conventionally," Hackett surmised, breaking Marcus from his reverie, "It'll take a damn miracle to help us out of this one. And with Earth fallen, the Parliament dead, most of our space in Reaper-occupied territory...the Alliance is a battered shell, Shepard. The Council is the only form of government we have left now. We've lost a fleet, and the rest are battered remnants. Its chaos. People will lose hope. Some might even believe this is humanity's extinction event...and who can blame them?"

 _Oh, its our extinction event alright. But I'm going to stop it._ Marcus nodded, shaking his head, "As much as I am loathe to admit it, Anderson was right sending us to the Citadel. He wants me to speak with the Council, try and rally support from the turians, asari and salarians. If we get them onboard, we have the foundation for our military counterattack. They can't deny the Reapers exist anymore; not with two whole governments having fallen in  _six hours._ "

"Agreed," Hackett declared, before leaning forward, hands clasped in his lap, "Anderson has the right idea...but you can't leave the Sol System yet. I've just received mission critical intel...I ignored it at first, but after reading over it, this could be seriously important to any further war effort. This mission is a priority one, and with you reinstated in the Alliance Navy, that puts you under my command."

Marcus gritted his teeth, not liking the fact that he now had to take orders.  _I make my own orders. This is_ _ **my**_ _war, and you're all my pawns. But if this is priority one, it must be important..._

"What is it, Hackett?" He asked, with alittle bit of annoyance creeping into his tone.

The admiral spoke and provided without fail, "Before you leave Sol, I need you to head to the Prothean Archives on Mars."

His eyes widened and his brow raised, "What the hell do we hope to find there? No disrespect sir, but a bunch of data isn't going to make Reapers drop from the sky."

Hackett shook his head, "We've got to stop thinking guns here, Shepard. We've got to start thinking ideas. Data might just be the thing we need to stop the Reapers. Before Arcturus fell, we learnt that the scientists at the Archives had discovered something located deep in the ground. Shepard, they discovered another beacon, but this one was more advanced. They called it a Library. Its a treasure trove of information, and they were coming to close to discovering something referring to a 'super weapon' before we lost contact."

The words 'super weapon' peaked his interest enough for him to take this seriously, "I'll have my pilot plot a course for the Mars Archives immediately."

Hackett nodded, "Just be careful, Shepard. We lost contact with the facility, but the strange thing is, it was long before the Reapers even arrived in system."

He narrowed his eyes, "So if isn't the Reapers, then who is it?"

He sighed, "I don't know, Shepard. That's up to you to find out. I'll contact you when we've consolidated our forces in Andura. Once that's done, you can link up with us. I've decided our best option is to head to the Citadel; mold our forces with the Citadel fleet and resupply, hopefully get some repairs. With most of our shipyards taken or destroyed by the Reapers, it seems we have no choice but to seek outside help. And while you're getting help from the Council, maybe you can find out how the other races are reacting to this. See their stance on it."

 _And locate the Migrant Fleet. Find Tali. Go to Rannoch. Make peace with the geth. Getting those two working together will create an alliance more powerful than all the Citadel races combined._ Marcus nodded his agreement, "We'll see each other then, Admiral. Shepard out," with that, he cut the connection, deactivating his omni-tool as he looked up to meet Kaidan's eyes. He gave a brief nod before addressing Joker, knowing EDI was listening.

"Set a course for the Mars Archives, Joker. Best speed. I want this over with before the Reapers completely seal off the system," he ordered.

Joker's response was quick and to the point, "Copy that...captain. EDI says we'll be there in ten to fifteen minutes. I'd be putting on my costumes and getting ready to dance if I were you."

He snarkily replied, "Thank you Joker," he turned to Kaidan, motioning to the armor locker, "Let me guess...they got rid of my Terminus Armor? Replaced it with the standard issue?"

Kaidan squared his shoulders, grinning, "Sorry, Captain. Alliance regs are a bitch, unfortunately."

 _Alliance regs changed my ship color, and turned my vessel into a stereotypical horror house. Any darker and I might trip over myself._ He shook his head, quickly moving over to the locker and keying it open to retrieve his gear.

"I just hope they have good weapons."

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1240 hours._

_Troop Compartment, UT-47A Kodiak Combat/Stealth Shuttle, Inbound for Systems Alliance Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

"I hate these weapons."

The chatter in the shuttle had been constant as they had left the Normandy and headed for Mars surface, locking onto the Mars Archives. They all stood their with full armor, with James in the co-pilot's seat, and Cortez in the pilot's. When Marcus had seen the armor he was to wear, he had cringed; it was light, covered head-to-toe in Alliance blue and white, and the shoulderpads seemed huge for its body. The breather helmet he wore didn't make up for it, and he already missed his Terminus armor, especially when he saw the kinetic barriers on it and how weak they were.

The weapons he was provided weren't much better. He preferred assault rifles and shotguns, but had gotten a liking for SMGs ever since their introduction, and gotten used to using them. He had loved his geth pulse rifle, claymore heavy shotgun, and Locust SMG, especially the latter due to it being a replica of the one that killed two Presidents many decades ago, stolen from Donovan Hock's treasure vault. Kasumi had the real idea, thank god; if he had it, the Alliance would have confiscated that instead.

So far, all he liked was his new SMG and shotgun, his SMG being an N7 Hurricane, and his shotgun a N7 Piranha. Aside from that, the lackluster M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle stood pretty far out from his better weapons.  _Why would they give me two N7 weapons, then just dump this piece of shit AR on me?_ The N7 Piranha was by far his most impressive weapon. Built to resemble a grenade launcher, the Piranha sacrificed severe damage for rapid-fire capability, and wide pallet spread, making it one of the most effective shotguns out there.

But that didn't mean he loved any of them. He still preferred the Claymore, and he still preferred the Locust. Simple as that.  _Maybe I'll get them back._

He shifted in his unbelievably light armor; simply listening as Kaidan chuckled, Keeling cleared her throat, and James and Cortez remained silent as ever. Marcus merely shot Kaidan a glare before tightening the straps on his shoulders, and looking around the cabin. The cabin was definitely larger than the ones in the old kodiaks, had better lighting, more seats and a tiny vidscreen to the side for briefings. Cracking his neck, he turned to look at the back of Cortez's skull, speaking through his helmet, "I've never seen this type of kodiak before, Cortez. What's up with the design?"

"A new design," Cortez stated a matter-of-factly, sounding excited to explain more about his beloved shuttle, "The UT-47 _A_  kodiak, not the UT-47. This is a new alliance design, with some help from engineers in the Salarian Union in a joint project; kinda like the joint Alliance-Hierarchy project with the Normandy-Class Stealth Frigates. This shuttle has better engines, tow forward facing cannons for light combat and defense, bigger troop space, and is overall a dropship. Its one new feature though is the compacted stealth drive it uses. Its a smaller version of the one used by the Normandy-Class."

He raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, "Wait, you're saying this shuttle is stealth capable? Noone can see us unless they look out a window?"

Cortez nodded, smiling, "Its currently active right now. Alliance won't know we've landed until we're already there."

Marcus sighed, turning away as Kaidan spoke, "This still doesn't make any sense. Hackett already said the Reapers weren't in system when the Archives dropped out of contact. Who could be attacking this facility? Only explanation I can see is the facility deliberately cutting all contact, but why would they do that? It makes no sense, none of this."

 _Cerberus couldn't be involved; the Illusive Man has nothing to gain by attacking the Archives. So someone else has to be behind this._ He shrugged non-chatantly, "We won't know until we land. Maybe they did sever contact, but whatever the reason, it can't be good. Just be ready. It could be terrorists...or an advance force of Reapers."

Kaidan exhaled, nodding gently as James called out from the cabin, "We'll be landing in one minute. Got to make this quick though; sandstorm's moving in."

He saw Keeling move from her steel pose, ceasing the tune she had been whistling as she stood up, grabbing her weapon, "I've encountered those sandstorms before during my time here. Definitely not pretty, and you don't want to be caught in them. If they're close enough to see, we'll have roughly forty minutes before it arrives." A beep, followed by a mechanical whir, was heard as her battle rifle, an N7 Valkyrie, folded out into her hands, Keeling moving towards the hatch. Another difference with this shuttle compared to the original is, unlike the original, instead of flipping open, this hatch had two sections; a lower portion, and the upper, which was bigger. When the hatch opened, the lower portion slid to the left, while the upper portion slid upwards. A pointless design change, but a design change nonetheless.

Keeling spoke again, her voice pure steel, "We'll also want to make sure we leave before the storm hits, which gives a mission window of twenty minutes, tops. Once it hits, we'll have alot of problems keeping up comms with the Normandy. And the shuttle. Interferes with the electrical transmissions."

"Maybe a sandstorm is why their comms dropped?" James piped, and everyone turned to see him walking into the cabin, heavy armor back on and helmet fitting over his large head, clicking into place with a hiss of air, "Could be why we're here. We could be charging into the Archives, weaponized, only to find the place to be fine."

Marcus shook his head, "I may be a soldier, but I know how sandstorms work. They're periodic, not constant. If a sandstorm is the cause of this blackout, then why is this one hitting so quickly? They appear annually, not daily."

"Precisely," Keeling complimented, clearly smiling, "Didn't know you knew alot about sandstorms, sir."

He grinned back, noticing the swift change in her tone, "I don't. That's basic knowledge."

"Hey, I'm just the marine," James quipped, letting his Revenant fold out into his hands, "I just shoot shit, and then ask questions about them later."

"We're approaching the drop zone," Cortez declared, turning to face them in his seat, "I'm going to drop just outside the main entrance. I've tried raising comms with the facility, but everything seems to be dead. I don't even see people outside; usually there would be maintenance teams outside doing clean up. There's just nothing."

Captain Shepard nodded sharply before moving to the front of the group, begrudgingly folding out his assault rifle and waiting for the hatch to open as Keeling, Kaidan and James fell in behind him. He smiled mentally.  _I've gone from the most multi-species squad in living history to straight humans in six months. I hope they're alright._

Before he could query his mind for further thoughts, the hatch slid apart, revealing the dusty, wasteland-like surface of Mars. Big rocks made up most of the surface, but overall the planet had the same, dull, yellow/golden sands all around, with dust and dirt kicking up from the ground as winds from the sandstorm reached them, but they were pretty light at the present moment. He could see the form of the Archives towering over the rocks; a large dome structure that covered kilometers of territory, with the actual Prothean Archives dig site on the other side.  _Along with the Prothean Library they dug up._

When they hovered roughly a meter off the ground, Marcus leapt off, landing with a grunt on the ground. He moved into a roll, and immediately came into a crouch, his assault rifle raised and scanning the terrain. No enemies presented themselves and he slowly came to his feet, and jogged forward, one hand raised in the air, motioning to his squad to deploy. Not long after, the rest of his squad deployed, and he watched Cortez guide the shuttle away and back into a safe position, "This is Lieutenant Cortez, going on station until you need me, captain."

"Copy that Cortez. Stay clear unless we need air support. Shepard out," cutting his comms, he set up a link between him and his squad before testing it, watching three green indicators pop up in the bottom left of his HUD to say they were connected, "Keeling, you're with me. James, Kaidan, keep the rear."

The sound of three copies followed, and he began to jog forward through the oxygenless atmosphere of Mars, his feet making prints in the soft dirt as he rushed past. All was silent as they reached a incline where they could slide down below, a metal ladder built into the wall leading up to them. He moved to holster his rifle when he heard James exclaim in hispanic, and they all turned right to see the gigantic wall of sand moving towards them.

It was like one gigantic plume of yellow smoke moving towards them, stretching out across the horizon and brissling with sand and dirt and smoke. Blue flashes inside it signalled an electrical storm, only adding to the intensity of its destruction, "Don't want to be caught in that. Let's get inside before it hits," Marcus ordered, and he slid down the ladder.

He had hit the bottom and was turning around, moving to unholster his rifle again when he saw the three dead Alliance marines lying on the ground. He immediately dropped into a crouch, scanning the area to the right, but he saw no hostiles, only sounds...shouting! He heard shouting!"

He commed his squad as they came down, "Take positions. Confirmed enemy presence."

As they took positions behind nearby rocks, Keeling checked the dead bodies, apparently adept at investigation, "Gunnery Sergeant George Reece, with Corporal Victoria Ayelt and Lance Corporal Peter Fault. They seemed to have been gunned down; due to the wounds, I'd say they were hit while moving for their weapons, and the erraticness of their wounds are consistent with automatic weapons fire; likely an assault rifle or SMG."

He turned to his group, "Could be Reapers. The Cannibals, the batarian husks, on Earth, they had automatic weapons grafted into their arms. But the reports also said they devoured dead bodies to add armor plating to their bodies; these bodies are unmolested. Something isn't right," he nodded to them, pointing to the corner that wrapped around to the left again, and towards the base main entrance, "We move forward, try to find out what we're dealing with here. I have a sense its not Reapers."

Move forward they did, and when they reached the corner, they quickly found out what the cries and shouts were about.

Two Grizzly tanks and a Mako were parked on the left, all looking to be in a convoy formation. But it was the five alliance marines lined up on their knees, hands behind their heads that took them by surprise. And behind them was a soldier in bulky looking white and gold armor, mattock rifle in hand, moving along them shouting, whilst being surrounded by soldiers in similiar colored armor, albeit alot lighter. If the color didn't confirm it, the insignia on their shoulderpads and chestplate did. A golden hexagon.

 _Cerberus. Now we know why this facility fell silent. But what the hell could the Illusive Man possibly want from the Archives? And why is he attacking the Alliance? He should be helping us fight the Reapers!_ He also didn't recognize the armor the soldiers were wearing,  _those don't look like the standard commando; they look heavily armed and armoured. Did they get an upgrade in the past six months? And does those vehicles have a Cerberus insignia on it?_ A quick look confirmed it,  _shit._

"Cerberus," Kaidan hissed beside him, "I can't believe it. I thought the Illusive Man was supposed to help us stop the Reapers. Now he's attacking Mars while Earth is occupied by Harbinger and his bloody fleet."

He motioned to the rocky area to the right, "Take James and flank to the right; me and Keeling will flank left. Take these bastards out, then we'll find out why the hell Cerberus is here and why they're attacking us."

Kaidan nodded and then commed James over the radio, ordering him to his position. Meanwhile, Marcus went prone and crawled over to Keeling's position, the two N7s assuming a firing line with the bulky looking soldier, lining up shots with their rifles, "I hope you're as good a shot as people say you are," Keeling muttered.

"Show me how good you can be N7," Marcus teased back, "We'll see who takes him down first."

"Be my guest," she shot back, before adding a moment later, "Sir."

Once Kaidan and James were in position, the group opened fire. Shots cut through the air and slammed into the kinetic barriers of the leader, and he shouted out in surprise, moving to raise his mattock before more shots slammed into him, downing his shield in seconds, before the gunfire ripped his armor asunder, followed by a shot to the head blowing his brains out onto the ground as his body body slumped to the ground dead, the troopers around him dispersing to defense positions, gunning down the marines on their knees before doing so. Marcus shouted in anger at the action.  _Bloody bastards._

A carnage shot shot out from behind one of the rocks, which impacted a retreating trooper, opening a large hole in his chest and throwing him off a ledge and fifty feet to his death. The shot was followed by a maelstrom of light machine gun fire, which tore into two more soldiers. Kaidan quickly appeared, a burst of biotic fire flying out from the man's palm, followed by the impact enveloping its victim in purple tangles of light, the soldier screaming as he fell backwards as the matter tore him apart at the atomic level.

Reaching into her bandolier, Keeling unhooked two frag grenades and tossed them over to the enemy ahead, before she got up from her prone position and pushed forward in a crouch, her Valkyrie barking shot after shot after shot at her enemies as the two grenades detonated, shrapnel blowing in all directions, killing four more troopers. As she moved through the smoke, her shields flashed, the enemy managing to consolidate their firepower enough to fire at her, but it was too late by that point.

He got into position to bolster her, summoning his biotics and unleashing assault after assault at the enemy and keeping them suppressed as his body glowed with liquid fire, palms shooting forward with each biotic strike. The battle quickly went south for Cerberus, and they watched as the enemy retreated, only to be gunned down. When the smoke cleared, the entire Cerberus squad lay dead alongside the marines they executed, and Marcus' team moved into the clearing, reloading their weapons and slamming in fresh thermal clips.

"Damn it," Keeling cursed as she moved over to one of the trooper's dead bodies, rolling it over with a boot, red eye visors looking up at them with blank expressions, "I heard the rumors, but I didn't think it was true. Cerberus has militarized itself."

Marcus eyed her with a keen expression, letting his biotics die off until they were but a dim glow, "What do you mean? What rumors?"

She motioned a head at the dead body before her, poking it with an armoured boot, "Rumors that these bastards had built up their military armada. Turns out they were true. Their troops seem to have upgraded, and now they have an entire navy. A proper navy. I don't know what happened along the road, but Cerberus has upgraded, and its been causing hell. They seem to have stepped up their operations all over the galaxy now too," she motioned her rifle at the dead corpse, "They got names for these assholes too. These ones are assault troopers," she then motioned with her rifle to the dead leader, "That's a centurion."

He shook his head, "I can't believe the Illusive Man would have troops here. He's always been about protecting humanity, and defeating the Reapers. Now he seems to be doing the exact opposite of both."

James growled as he moved over to one of the assault troopers on the ground nearby, the solider stirring, and fired a burst into his back, "I don't care what he used to stand for; this is wrong. If he's with the Reapers, he needs to be put down. Him, and Cerberus."

"Not with the Reapers, I don't think," Kaidan stated, looking at Marcus, "But of a different mindset."

Marcus met Kaidan's look, and knew what he meant instantly.  _The Illusive Man never agreed with how I dealt with the Reapers. But he believed we should control the Reapers, not destroy them. So why has he militarized? Nothing about this makes any sense._ Before he could say anything, Kaidan shook his head, took a step forward, and eyed the facility towering over them, speaking with confusion, "Why would Cerberus even attack this place in an assault? The security here is top of its day; some of the code was even designed by salarians in the STG and the SIA, how could they hope to penetrate this place with anything less than a battalion? But by the looks of it here, these three vehicles could fit no bigger than a company. They must have had help from the inside."

The captain agreed, motioning to the main entrance, which lay wide open, "Then let's go see just what happened. Keep your fingers on your triggers; this isn't a search and rescue op. We're here to find the Prothean Library, extract the information required, and then bug out. The Reapers will be here soon, and we don't want to be here when they turn up."

Moving forward, everyone else simply fell in line.

No arguments were provided. The game had suddenly changed, and two enemies presented themselves.

A long war indeed.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1250 hours._

_Main Entrance Cargo Elevator, Systems Alliance Research Facility, Mars Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

They had encountered another squad of Cerberus soldiers outside the entrance, and they had taken prepared for their arrival. They stood little chance in the face of firm, capable, resistance however, and despite their obviously enhanced speed and strength, Marcus' squad prevailed and they moved into the main entrance, using the large cargo elevator in the middle to elevate into the storage bay.

During the slow ascent, Marcus had simply tried to comprehend why Cerberus would suddenly turn against them on such a scale like this. Before, it was just him trying to kill Shepard, but now he seemed to be targetting the Alliance as a whole. And just what could be so important that they'd attack the Archives? There could only be one answer.

They were here for the same thing they were. The Prothean Library, and the possible 'super weapon' hidden inside.

Kaidan had stood in an uneasy pose, and Keeling seemed agitated in hers, but firm. James seemed way too eager to kill something, once again reminding him of a more heavily-built Jenkins. Marcus himself simply stood there, looking up as the storage compartment slowly revealed itself.

It was large, but simple in design. Crates were piled as high as the ceiling in some areas, and a long balcony ran along the walls, with two blast doors on each level; small elevators allowed access to these balconies, and a forklift sat to one side. Vents covered the ceiling, and the lighting was bright enough to see everything inside. But it was quiet. Too quiet. Not a single Cerberus trooper in the area.

They slowly moved forward, weapons aimed forward, and ears perked for any sound. For a second they heard nothing, but then they heard banging, like the sound of someone banging against metal, and as he followed the sound, he saw it was coming from the vents, and saw dents popping up as someone moved along it. There was no way Cerberus troopers would be crawling through it, so... _Someone is trying to escape._

He motioned to the vent, noticing that Keeling had already noticed and was moving forward, but stopped as soon as gunshots were heard in the vent, followed the ping of a bullet, and more shuffling in the vents.  _Someone being pursued..._ Another shot fired, piercing the vent and wedging into a wall, followed by more gunshots. But inbetween shots, he swore he heard the sound of biotics being unleashed.  _Cerberus biotic, or the escapee is a biotic?_

He soon got his answer as all movement seemed to just stop, followed by the vent seeming to just spotaneously combust, blowing pieces of metal all over the place. His squad dove into cover, including himself as he slid behind a crate, picking up the rifle he had dropped in the process as they dodged fragments of metal. He turned the corner to see a blue aura glowing through the smoke, but he couldn't see who had formed it. What he did hear was the person using the field landing lightly on the ground, followed by a choked cry; one he recognized as the synthesized, robotic voice of a Cerberus soldier.  _Sounds like they're kicking ass without us._ He smiled at that.

More gunshots were heard, but they were followed by more choked cries of the soldiers. Finally, the smoke cleared, revealing the person wrapped in biotic fire, carnifex pistol in her grip. She wore a milky white armoured labcoat that ended in a skirt around her knees, and he immediately recognized the tentacles on the back of her head and sapphire skin as that of an asari. And when said person turned around, and her eyes met his, he felt his jaw drop in shock.  _No, not here..._

James rushed forward, aiming his rifle at the asari's head as she lowered her weapon, and the biotic aura wrapping her body faded to nothing, "Weapon and on the ground, now! Hands where we can-"

Marcus was at James' side in a heartbeat, hand gripping his Revenant and eying the man, "Lower your weapon Lieutenant," he looked back at her, removing his helmet and smiling as he did, "She's a friend."

He frowned, but lowered his weapon anyway, merely watching as the asari moved forward, a smile gracing her warm, supple lips, holstering her carnifex. He smiled back, shaking his head as he holstered his rifle and pinned his helmet under one arm, the rest of his squad securing the room, "Liara T'Soni; a pleasant surprise."

The asari's smile grew even further as she stepped over the bodies of the four dead soldiers she had killed, and they only stopped moving when they stood half a meter from each other, "Shepard, it is good to see you again," she greeted, sighing with relief, "Although, I think we all wish it was under better circumstances."

"As do I Liara," he grunted, shaking his head, "I'm sure you've heard the reports."

She nodded grimly, "We did. Our comms may be down, but we still saw the news feeds when Cerberus tried to win over some sympathsizers. I'm so sorry, Shepard. Losing Earth, it must be..."

Kaidan was with them in a heartbeat, "We haven't lost Earth yet. We'll save it, in due time."

"'In due time' may well be a very long time," she turned and motioned to the dead corpses of the dead Cerberus soldiers, "Especially with Cerberus now playing against us. A betrayal I, honestly, did not see coming. I knew they wanted us dead, but to actively attack an Alliance facility? Seems beyond them."

Marcus shook his head at the mention of the terrorist organization, "At this point, it doesn't matter. The Reapers are our main concern, the Illusive Man second. I'll put him down if I have to, but at the moment, we have bigger problems. But what are you doing here? Last we meet, you were the Shadow Broker and things were fine. Where's Feron? Why are you even here?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples as she moved over to a observation window giving a few of the base's exterior outside, along with more of Mars' terrain and the sandstorm approaching in the distance. Marcus and Kaidan followed, with James and Keeling also doing so, but with weapons covering left, right and center.

"We were attacked Shepard. Cerberus find us. Sent a light cruiser to Hagalaz to destroy my ship," she informed him, leaning against the window with one arm, her eyes glazing along the plains, "They got what they wanted, but not quite in the way they expected. Feron and myself managed to escape, along with the majority of my personnel, before I then set my base on a collision course with their cruiser. Last I saw was both of them floating in debris. Then I came here, because I knew that if there was going to be any information on the Reapers, it would be in the Archives. Fabricating the false ID for a consultant from the Asari Republics was easy enough, and I got in. Feron is in command of my empire while I'm gone, and he's currently in the Terminus Systems; somewhere. He likes to remain hidden. So here I am; pursued by Cerberus. They seem intent on killing me."

Marcus grinned, "Can't imagine why," he shook his head, but his grin quickly vanished, his face becoming all seriousness when he spoke again, "I just wish we'd know what's going on. Out in the galaxy, I mean. I hate being blind. All I heard was that the Hegemony fell, and now Earth is overrun. I need to know how the rest of the galaxy is faring. Considering the Reapers seem to have started in the Attican Traverse and are sweeping west, I'd say they'll be hitting the turians, and possibly the salarians, next, which means I need to find Garrus and Mordin, and warn them."

Liara nodded, "I understand. If I had contact with my network I would tell you, but Cerberus has made that very difficult," she sighed, turning to face him as she pushed herself off the window, leaning on one hip as she crossed her arms, "But what are you doing here? I can't believe we just happen to stumble upon each other by coincidence."

He shook his head, "Hackett sent us here to find something. Apparently they recently dug alittle further and found a Prothean Library of some sort. A Library that apparently contains information regarding the Reapers and a super weapon. Can I hopefully assume those two terms are related?"

She smirked, a smug one if he knew her well enough, "They certainly are. And you're lucky I'm here. I was there when they dug it up, and I was the one who gathered that information. And I can tell you that what we found was groundbreaking. It provided irrefutable proof that the Reapers existed, but of course that's already a moot point now."

James exclaimed behind them in relief, "Hallelujah! Some answers...finally."

Liara nodded to him, before turning back to Marcus, her brow inquisitive, "Yes, we discovered plans for a device. One that was massive in both size and scope, and almost the size of a fully-fledged space station, and the size of the Halcyon-Class Prototype I lived on. Its only referred to as a super weapon, and its designated as being prothean in origin. And what's more interesting, is that they referred to it as a Reaper 'killer.' We can only assume its a way to destroy the Reapers."

Too excited by this news to bother questioning the logic behind it, he spoke fast, and hurriedly, "Here? On Mars? Where is it?"

She exhaled, shaking her head, "Its in the Archives. Its only data, Shepard. Schematics. We didn't dig up the actual weapon."

He cursed as he turned to look outside the window, watching the lone structure of the dig site in the distance.  _Nothing is ever simple._

He turned to Liara with a queer look on his face, "But just how did the Alliance not know about this? We've known about the Archives for decades. And if this 'super weapon' can destroy the Reapers, and its prothean built, why didn't they use it? Why didn't they fire it to destroy them? Why are they extinct, and the Reapers are still alive? That's senseless."

She nodded, motioning to the dig site structure with a wave of her hand, "Process of elimination, mixed with a little desperation is how they found it. After you destroyed the Alpha Relay and you were incarcerated, I knew I had to do something. That's why I came here. To find a way to stop the Reapers, and now that way is blocked by an army of Cerberus soldiers wanting to also gain access to it. As for the Protheans not using it..." she shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe the Archives will yield more information when we reach it. I had been datamining it when Cerberus attacked, and cut all power. I had to double back here to find out what was going on, but when I did, Cerberus closed in and sealed all access. We need to get to the dig site before they extract it."

He shook his head, "This sounds too good to be true. A weapon that can wipe out the Reapers with a press of a button? A weapon that can end a horde of unstoppable sentient starships and their equally large hordes of indoctrinated, cybernetically twisted minions of varying appearence? Seems like one giant deus ex machina," he sighed, rubbing his sore eyes, "But I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this weapon really does exist, and can be built to scale and tested, it could be our answer to this threat. We need it. The whole galaxy needs it. It maybe our only hope."

"But why does Cerberus want this weapon?" Kaidan asked in confusion, "Last I checked, he wanted to  _control_ the Reapers. Dominate them. Why would he try to apprehend blueprints to a weapon that destroys them?"

Keeling piped up, seeming to connect the dots, "Why does a nation attack another nation? To remove a threat."

Marcus saw the wisdom in her words.  _He doesn't want the plans so he can use them to destroy his target,_ he pieced together,  _he simply wants to obtain them before anyone else can and destroy them, removing a threat to his plans._ "Excellent work, Keeling. We need to reach that dig site before Cerberus does. I am not about to let the Illusive Man destroy our only hope of defeating this enemy," he took the helmet under his arm and put it back on, locking his features away with a hiss before bringing his piranha shotgun to bear, "How do we reach the dig site?"

She nodded, bringing up her omni-tool and sending coordinates to all of theirs, "I've just given you schematics of the facility. There's a skytram at the security station that will take us across to the dig. We'll need to move quickly however; no doubt Cerberus is already there. One more thing you should know-"

Her speech was interrupted by the sound of a fire torch wizzing to life and burning through metal, and as all five of them turned, they saw a spark of orange flame slowly coming down the side of a blast door on the upper floor, and they all knew who had arrived. He turned to Liara, an apologetic look in his eye.

"It'll have to wait Liara. We've got company," he turned to Keeling and Kaidan, motioning to crates below the balcony, "Take positions. Liara, with me. James-"

"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed, his expression fierce, "Time to kick some serious Cerberus ass."

"Not today James," he growled, annoyed at being interrupted as he moved back to the elevator they had come through, and he James surprised look as he turned to face the captain. He rushed over to him, his face that of irritation.

"What?"

He turned to face the marine, his helmet inches from the soldier's face, "Wake up, Lieutenant. I need you back on Cortez's shuttle and protecting him in case Cerberus spots him. That is all you will do. Understood?"

"But-"

"Don't 'but' me, Vega!  _Do you understand?_ " his voice was pure steel, unwithering and unbending. The fierceness in his tone brokered no argument, and James finally nodded meekly, turning away to step on the elevator, helmet clicking into place, before holstering his Revenant, swapping it for his M-27 Scimitar shotgun, looking like a juggernaut in his heavy armor. Marcus glared at his back for a few more seconds before accessing the elevator controls, and watching it descend. The entire time, James did not turn around, speak or even move.

He felt a five-fingered hand grip his shoulder and he turned to meet Liara's eyes, who nodded at the doorway, "We better assume positions. Cerberus are almost through the door."

He nodded, moving forward and sliding behind a crate with Liara at his side, swapping his shotgun for his N7 Hurricane SMG. Checking it was full, he turned around in time to watch the door blast open and fall to the ground, and a stream of Cerberus soldiers piled out. He checked the elevation, seeing that they had the advantage of higher ground.  _But we have three biotics._

"Liara, target a singularity in the middle of their group," he ordered, noticing a different type of soldier hefting a large, heavy looking metal shield with a slot through the top, a heavy pistol in his other hand and firing potshots at them, "I'll detonate it with a warp. Kaidan, once I've detonated, reave the leader."

With his acknowledges, he waited for Liara's attack. He saw a centurion crouched behind the balcony's glass railing, mattock heavy rifle in hand and shouting commands at his men, the assault troopers in question raining suppressive fire down on his squad. Their cybernetic voices sounded wrong; far too robotic to be human. And that shield...no normal human, no matter how strong, could lift  _that._

The singularity appeared behind the shielded soldier, and he was lifted up, losing his grip on his shield, which was also sucked in. Three other assault troopers were sucked in before they could escape too, and without hesitation, Marcus charged up his biotics, leapt out and threw his palm forward, a warp field shooting out and impacting the tear in space, causing the singularity to collapse and explode, tearing the shielded soldier and the three troopers apart. This shocked the centurion into standing, before he regained his purpose and lowered his rifle sights over a vulnerable Marcus, managing to get off two shots on his shield before Keeling took out the centurion's shields, followed by Kaidan reaving him. His screams of pain were audible for all to hear, but was quickly drowned out by the remains of the Cerberus strike team returning fire.

Falling back behind his crate, he left off a single burst of his SMG into an assault trooper's head before falling behind his cover again, and reloading. He inhaled, and exhaled. He heard Liara giggle, and he could only half-chuckle himself, shaking his head.

This was almost like old times.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1303 hours._

_Security Station, Systems Alliance Research Facility, Mars Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Well this was certainly fun.

They had been forced to fight through numerous waves of Cerberus troops, of which seemed to be enough to be a battalion as Kaidan suggested, and it hadn't been easy trying to reach the dig site tramway. The terrorist organization fought them tooth and nail every step of the way, and wherever they went, Cerberus was waiting for them with fresh troops. But they broke through all the same, the squad working like a well-oiled machine, including Keeling, and they eventually arrived at the security station.

Only to find that a ceiling turret protecting the station had been hacked by Cerberus, and had immediately opened fire on them when they entered the entrance corridor.

It took a game of hide-and-seek, along with some 'dodgeball' to finally get past the turret and into the security station, taking them out of the turret's operational rotation. Now they were inside, with an entire Cerberus squad fighting harder than ever before to hold the room and make sure they didn't cross the tramway.

Marcus was currently sneaking up behind a shield trooper, which he had learnt were called Guardians, his Piranha shotgun in hand. Crouched a meter from the oblivious trooper, firing his Talon heavy pistol at Keeling behind her cover, he took aim with his shotgun and unloaded into the guardian's side. He cried out in agony as his entire right side opened up from ribs to hips, and his arms were shredded by the widespread. The velocity sent him kereening to the left, where he fell over, his shield dropping ontop of him and the sound of a head being crushed by the shield's sheer weight could be heard, ending the guardian's pain.

Gunfire poured into his barriers as three assault troopers approached, avenger assault rifles in hand and pouring into him. Picking up the guardian's shield but utilizing his cybernetic strength, he brought it infront of him and moved forward, the enemy shots pouring off the metal shield and Marcus firing his shotgun sporadically at them with one hand.

The first shot hit a desk behind the advancing trio, but the second blasted one soldier's head asunder, and the pallet spread from that impacted his comrade in the neck, causing red blood to pour out of his neck and onto the floor as he gasped desperately for breath, dumping his weapon as both hands clasped around his neck, trying to seal off the wound. With only one trooper left to oppose him, he used the shield and wacked the soldier across the side, which effectively ripped his torso clean off his body, shearing it in half. Red blood spurted everywhere, and Marcus reduced the choking soldier's head to a red mist, before moving on to finish the centurion, who had retreated to the back of the room.

Only to find Kaidan already there, omni-blade deep in the centurion's helmet. Kaidan looked up and nodded to him, ripping the blade out and watching it evaporate, followed by a second nod before he went over and joined Keeling and Liara at the security control console. Marcus quickly did the same, but not before reloading his shotgun.

Liara was busy typing at said console, blue hands dancing over the keyboard as she watched the screen before her, which appeared to be security camera footage of the tram below, "There we go. Wait..." a loud beep followed her attempts to override the tram controls, and she cursed as she hit the terminal, "Damn it! I'm completely locked out. I can't override the trams from here. She's smarter than I expected. And quick."

He frowned at her, "Who is?"

She growled, turning to face him, "The traitor. Or the inside agent, I should say. Cerberus' sleeper. She was here before I was, actually, and seemed to have been here a long while. She was one of the researcher; brunette, very attractive. She went by the name Doctor Eva Core. I was suspicious of her from the get go, so I did some research. Turned out she died on Palaven shortly after the First Contact War. And you won't guess who she was friends with."

His confusion only got deeper, "Who?"

"Jack Harper," she stated, but still seeing the confusion, continued, "Who would later write the Cerberus manifesto, and become known as the Illusive Man."

His eyes widened in surprise, "So you think this Eva works for Cerberus now? You think she allowed Cerberus to get in?"

"Yes. Her attack was brutal and efficient, and so was her infiltration. I don't know how she can be alive, as the reports say otherwise, but Cerberus has their ways," she shook her head, "Before we knew what was going on, she had unsealed every airlock in half of the facility. She depressurized that entire area, and removed all oxygen from the air. While half of the facility suffocated from lack of oxygen, the other half was quickly overwhelmed by a large Cerberus force deploying via multiple shuttles. Last I saw of her, she seemed to be leading a Cerberus platoon towards the dig site. We haven't encountered her on the way here, so she must be still there."

With a quick, he motioned to the tram below, "Is there anyway we can activate the tram without the override?"

"How about this?" Keeling offered, and all turned towards her.

She stood there, leaning on one hip and rifle in her grip, "Why don't we just do it the good old fashioned way? We confiscate one of these dead scumbags' radios, and then pretend to be the team reporting in. We'll request reinforcements, and they'll send them over the tram. We kill the reinforcements and commandeer the tram they bring over."

Kaidan grinned, turning to face Marcus, "Glad I brought her along?"

He smirked back, "Certainly am," he turned to Keeling, motioning to the dead centurion, "Confiscate his radio. I need to talk to Liara."

Keeling simply nodded, letting her rifle come to rest on her back as she calmly made her way over to the dead centurion, Kaidan crossing his arms as he stayed in the background. He moved to Liara, who seemed to be watching something. As he looked over her shoulder, he saw she was watching a recording of security footage from not too long ago. He saw the brunette she spoke; and she really was extremely attractive. Her hair was slender and curled infront of her face, her ears were well shaped, her eyes seemed to sparkle with radiance, and her hips were generous to the eye, and her bosom quite large; just as large as Miranda's, actually. She approached a centurion in the tram bay, an entire platoon of assault troopers, guardians and one single type of soldier he didn't recognize reading something of his omni-tool and working at the door. He saw the backpack on his pack, and seeing the omni-tool and the door he was hacking, knew who it was.  _A combat engineer._

Eva spoke, her voice annoyed, "Damn it, that asari should be dead already. Why haven't you found her?"

The centurion responded, voice just as annoyed, "I have men searching the entire facility. We'll find the bitch, and we'll kill her. Simple as that."

"I'm not seeing a blue, tentacle-headed corpse," she growled in response, turning to yell at the engineer, "Have you got the damn trams working?"

The engineer shouted back with the same robotic voice all of them seemed to have, "Affirmative. We've got Alliance marines waiting on the other side. A whole squad."

She snorted, "Makes no matter; we'll kill them. Once we're across, give me direct override of the trams. Noone comes across.  _Noone._ I don't care if its the Illusive Man himself, noone is getting across that tramway, you got me?"

"Yes ma'am," the centurion responded.

She looked up, and shook her head, raising a Tempest SMG directly at the camera, "Didn't I tell you I wanted no cameras? Idiot," she fired, and the feed immediately cut to static, and both of them were silent.

"Well if she's ordered them not to let us across, this plan is suddenly moot now, isn't it?" Kaidan asked.

"No," Marcus stated, "She said noone was to come across to their side. We'll be bringing them over here. These troopers seem too dumb to know the difference, so it should work as long-"

"Sir," Keeling piped up, obvious disgust and shock in her tone, "You might want to have a look at this."

All of them turned to Keeling, who had stood up and backed away from the centurion, his helmet lay on the ground beside where Keeling had taken it off and placed it. Marcus walked over and his eyes immediately fell on the soldier's face, eyes widening in horror.

What he saw wasn't human.

It was a bloody husk. A Reaper husk.

 _What the fuck has the Illusive Man done?_ He crouched, looking over the man's features. His eyes were no longer present, replaced by what looked to be cybernetic optical sensors, and he had no lips; his mouth permanently wide open and showing the radio filter that had been fused into his mouth. His skin was now the pure blue/black of a husk, and all his hair had fallen out and he was now completely bald. This...thing wasn't even remotely human.

"The Illusive Man was always fucked up," Marcus growled, ripping his eyes away from the abomination, "But this is different. This is beyond fucked up. He's turning his own troops into bloody  _monsters._ "

"What kind of leader does this to his own people and claims to stand for humanity?" Kaidan added sickingly, "This is beyond wrong. This is sick."

"Keeling," Marcus spoke lowly and steadily, steel in his voice as he forced himself to look on the ex-human, "Retrieve the radio from his helmet, and give it to me. Then put his helmet back on. I can't stand to look at his face one minute longer."

Liara looked on solemnly as Keeling did as ordered without flinching, reaching around and pulling the man's radio out, which also seemed to be wired into his brain, and as she yanked and pulled it away, flesh and blood stuck to the wiring and came out with it. Even Keeling seemed on the verge of wretching before she tossed it to Marcus, who caught it up with his hand and put the radio to his mouth, watching it tap against his helmet, "Copy over, this is...," he checked the radio label before putting it back to his vocalizer, "Delta squad, how copy?"

The voice was gruff, but the same robotic tone he recognized from every other soldier; only now he knew where the real voice came from. He felt sick.  _Keep it together, soldier._ Clearing his thoughts, he became steel once more, hearing the soldier speak, "About damn time. We expected an update ten minutes ago," hesitation, before the soldier spoke again, "Never mind, what's your status?"

"We need immediate reinforcements! Shepard's team is here!" Marcus imitated, and he saw Kaidan shake his head in amusement, "Requesting backup, how copy?"

"Solid copy," the soldier replied, "Echo squad will ride over and provide support. Just make sure you keep Shepard alive. The Illusive Man will have something special planned for him."

 _Oh, I bet he does. But he ain't turning me into a monster._ Again, thoughts of that abomination popped up.  _Jack Harper, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will_ _ **end**_ _you. You used to stand for something, and I don't know what happened along the road to fuck it all up, but something did, and now you're going to pay for it. But the Reapers must come first._ "Copy that; we'll kill the rest of his squad and take Shepard hostage. We'll hold them until Echo gets here. Come in guns blazing."

The comms disconnected before anything else could be said, and Marcus tossed it aside, drawing his weapon, "Okay, let's get down there and be ready to take them by surprise."

"Did they buy it?" Kaidan asked.

"Hook, line and sinker," Marcus replied, grinning, "Let's just be ready for them."

With Liara by his side, he made his way down the right side to stand on the right side of the long, tram door, while Kaidan and Keeling assumed positions on the other side. They all went into crouch, Liara with her SMG at the ready, and everyone else with primed assault rifles aimed and fingers on their triggers. The biotics glowed with dark energy, and Keeling got ready to prime a grenade and throw it.

It wasn't long before the screech of a tram moving towards them could be heard. They stiffened upon hearing it, their bodies knowing that combat would soon be upon them once more and Marcus felt his omni-shield spring to life in his hand.

The tram finally arrived, and the large, long blast door slid open, revealing the two-way tramway space. The left side was empty, but the right side was now occupied as the tram arrived, a small door opening and allowing the troops to spill out. A guardian lead the charge, shield raised in front of him, followed by a centurion, a combat engineer, and numerous assault troopers. There was 12 of them overall; his team could easily handle them.

Liara launched a warp field directly into the guardian's exposed flank, sending him flying into Kaidan and Keeling's position, where Keeling finished the trooper off with an omni-blade stab into his helmet. Marcus charged forward, his omni-shield deflecting the shots of the retaliating assault troopers and he slammed into the combat engineer, the golden visored soldier having been in the middle of typing into his omni-tool when he was hit.

Charging a biotic fist, Marcus slammed it into his visor, shattering it on impact and stunning the engineer. Charging forth again, he swept the soldier's legs out from under him, causing him to fall forwards and allowing Marcus to raise his weapon to the back of his head, bypass the engineer's kinetic barriers, and fire, splattering his brain matter on the floor.

His kinetic barrier crackled and popped, but he quickly rose his omni-shield again, protecting himself from the hail of gunfire. He watched one trooper's head explode, followed by Liara using her biotics to pick up one of them and throw them off the edge, screaming to their death. Kaidan and Keeling appeared, their fire cutting down numerous assault troopers before they finally managed to retreat and assume fire, the Cerberus attackers attempting a defensive movement.

With Keeling engaging the centurion in hand-to-hand, Marcus and Kaidan moved forward, using their assault rifles to keep the troopers pinned. When they finally arrived, they both leapt over the railing and into the tram, taking the enemy soldiers by surprise. By the time they turned to assess the threat, they were cut down. One assault trooper aimed a weapon whip at Kaidan's face, but the marine easily ducked under it, ramming his omni-blade into his armoured chest and twisting, before pulling out and letting him slide to the floor.

Liara arrived, and they all turned to watch just as the centurion managed to hook Keeling across the face, stunning her temporarily. She kicked him in the chest, but the centurion seemed barely fazed by it, and kicked back. Keeling blocked it, sidestepping backwards and out of the leader's reach. But in a flash, like the speed of lightning, the centurion moved forward and grabbed her shoulders, slamming his head forward and into hers.

If not for her helmet, her skull would have cracked with the impact. She flew backwards and into a wall, the N7 simply not fast enough to keep up with the centurion's superior cybernetics. The centurion advanced on her just as Liara moved to raise her weapon, only to stop as a gunshot was heard; the sound of a Talon heavy pistol being fired. A second shot echoed through the room, and his head exploded, followed by his body falling backwards and onto the ground, revealing the form of Keeling holding the smoking barrel of a Talon pistol, before she dropped the weapon and stood to her feet, approaching them.

"You okay, Keeling?" Marcus asked as she stepped inside, Kaidan activating the tram as soon as they were inside. Liara closed the gate, and they all made sure their helmets were sealed as the depressurization door opened and the one behind them closed, revealing, once again, the oxygenless plains of the red planet, "That centurion gave you one hell of a beating."

"Nothing I didn't handle, sir," she replied, unhooking her Hurricane SMG and letting it small into her grip, "I'll walk it off. Bastard was damn fast; never seen a man move that fast, especially in heavy armor."

"Cerberus has given their troops upgrades. Did you see the way that combat engineer typed into his omni-tool?" Kaidan asked, shaking his head, "Even Tali could not type that fast; only Legion could outmatch that," he eyed Marcus, "Maybe the Illusive Man has given them cybernetic implants, like he did you."

Marcus shrugged, "Yeah, maybe. And if that's true, that just makes Cerberus a greater enemy than we thought. But right now we must focus on getting to that library. Liara?"

The asari was at his side in an instant, pointing ahead, "The dig site is just behind that door. I'll handle the security; but once inside, the Library will be inside the site. We'll download the information, kill Eva if we have to, and leave. But we need that intel. It holds our salvation, Shepard," she seemed desperate, and he understood how she felt.

_Failure is not an option. I will not allow Cerberus to get away with that library._

"They seem to be unaware of our presence, Shepard," Kaidan pointed out, taking cover behind the opaque railing, "Might take them by surprise."

Marcus nodded to him, motioning Keeling and Liara to crouch behind the railing, whilst Marcus did the same, joining Kaidan. He pulled out his Hurricane SMG, and turned back to the major, slamming in a fresh thermal clip, "I just hope we're not too late to the party."

Kaidan nodded back, pulsing with biotics as he readied his N7 Paladin pistol, "So do I."

The tram travelled in relative silence, but as they looked outside, they could easily see that the sandstorm was almost upon them; Mars' landscape was slowly transforming as the wall of sand and electricity pummelled a path of destruction and moved towards the lone alliance facility. As he admired the area, he heard the airlock doors opening, and knew they were here.

Passing through, the door closed again and they unsealed their helmets, allowing them to breathe again. It wasn't long before they reached the second door, and it slid open, revealing the space behind it. He could hear footsteps, obviously those of Cerberus soldiers, as they walked around, but all movement seemed to cease as the tram stopped moving. They must have noticed how empty it was.

"What, where's Echo Squad?" one soldier demanded, "Someone get on that tram and-"

Kaidan leapt up first, his Paladin's sights landing on the nearest target and coughing out hot death. Marcus quickly joined his assault, SMG complimenting Keeling's, of the same type, as they ripped into four assault troopers on the right. Liara brought a biotic barrier to life infront of them, and they mowed into the Cerberus troopers, who were initially too shocked to return fire, but when they did, they were organized.

The assault troopers were used as cannon fodder as the centurion used his mattock to shatter the window of the security console before leaping into the room, taking cover behind the main console. Two doors on either side of the room, which sat in the middle, shot open, and on both sides was a guardian advancing into the room, a full compliment of assault troopers behind them. Two combat engineers appeared, and took off their backpacks and placing them on the ground.

Fearing they were explosives, Marcus charged up and let a biotic warp let fly, aiming it at the box. Upon impact, it seemed to explode in the engineer's face, the shrapnel shredding his body into bloody ribbons, and sending his mutilated corpse flying into a wall, where it plopped down on the ground. He did the same with the second engineer, and the same result presented itself.

Liara dropped her barrier and charged forward, sending a biotic shockwave cascading into the nearest guardian. The velocity and force sent the shield flying from his grip, allowing Liara to empty her Tempest SMG into his back. Before the troopers around her could completely deplete her shields, she raised a biotic barrier around herself, before letting it implode, the sheer magnitude of it sending everyone around her flying.

Keeling primed another grenade and tossed it into the security room, before charging forward, SMG roaring. Kaidan and Marcus followed, both of them laying fire down with their own weapons; their shields were depleted by the time they reached the security junction, their barriers were depleted and their armor potmarked with bullet holes, but luckily most of them were grazings and hadn't drawn blood. The bodies of numerous Cerberus soldiers lay around them, and they watched as Keeling strafed next to the guardian and rammed her SMG into the slot they used for sight, before pulling the trigger, impacting the guardian between the eyes and killing him instantly, cadaver collapsing to the ground, ontop of his shield.

By the time they managed to clean up, the entire room was a battlefield. Assault troopers, a centurion, two combat engineers and two guardians; all of them dead, red blood running through the steel floor. The victory was short and to the point though, and Marcus quickly found himself reloading, along with his squad, and leading Liara, Kaidan and Keeling forward, through one of the doors and into a hall that ended with a large steel door; its haptic interface a dull red.

He lowered his weapon, checking noone was behind them, "Area's clear. This the dig site you were talking about, Liara?"

She nodded, and moved over to the console next to the door, typing into irregularly. A grin split her lips, "It seems this Doctor Core forgot one important thing," she tapped a button, and the haptic interface turned green, before winking out of existence, the door sliding open, "I can hack just as well as she can."

Swapping his SMG for his assault rifle, he moved inside, weapon raised, and his squad covering his rear. As they moved inside, Marcus took the time to examine the massive complex; and massive it was.

The ceiling was high above them, and the floor seemed to be miles below them, looking to be built around a giant hole in the ground; so deep that the darkness concealed its depth. It was circular in shape, with a deactivated drill left unused down below but attached. Four massive support struts kept the place from caving in, and two ring like balconies made up the floor of the area, his team arriving on the outer ring. Each ring had numerous computer consoles, and the inner ring just happened to contain what they were here for. And it too, was also huge.

It looked just like the prothean beacons he had encountered first on Eden Prime, and on Virmire. A large rectangular prism like structure with numerous lines weaved into its grey, smooth surface. This one also hummed with dormant power, and was much larger than its beacon predecessors, and emitted the same green color; a color that seemed to fill the entire room with its light, causing it to have an eerily alien like atmosphere.

Moving around, his team moved towards the center ring before he stopped, turning to Kaidan and Keeling, "You two, secure the outer ring. Make sure Cerberus doesn't get the jump on us, and if you see Eva, do not let her escape. She may have the data, and if she does, we can't risk letting her escape with it. This is too important to let the Illusive Man destroy it with his insanity."

They nodded, Kaidan telling moving off to sweep the right, while Keeling watched the entrance, in a crouch, hidden beside the door and her weapon at the ready. With eyes on their backs, Marcus and Liara approached the main control console infront of the Library, which was encased in a large cylinder like glass tube, and Liara began typing into it, a determined look on her face. Marcus took note of the quantum entanglement communicator pad sitting next to it, and could only assume it was a new addition, considering the technology's relatively new status. He crossed his arms, weapon holstered as he took off his helmet, breathing in air.

Liara continued to type into the console as he waited, "Should have this information downloaded soon. If I can just-"

"Shepard," a familiar, eerily calm, and irritating cool voice, said behind them, and Marcus felt his brow furrow in rage as both of them turned to face the man who was now projected via hologram on the QEC device, the man seeming to be standing, his signature glass of whiskey in hand, and half-topped. His synthetic eyes glowed, and his brown hair was combed as it usually was, the man wearing a basic suit. He didn't seem to be sitting for once either...or smoking.

Marcus growled as he responded, meeting the man's eyes with a cold expression. Liara drew her pistol on the hologram, but noting the projection, quickly holstered it, realizing the vainness of her gesture. Marcus spoke, voice frost, "Illusive Man," he eyed the facility, "I was wondering when you'd make your big opening."

The man waved a dismissive hand, taking a sip of his glass before handing it to someone out of view, the man's form projected in bright blue pixels, "You don't know the half of it. The protheans left us a wealth of information. The most in the galaxy. We've had the Archives for decades," he eyed the library behind them with awe, something that was hard to find in the Illusive Man, "And we've squandered it. I'm merely correcting that mistake."

 _I'm not in the mood for his usual bullshit._ Marcus ignored his words, stepping forward, angry, "I don't fucking care what we've squandered. Get to the point. What do you want?"

The man barely acknowledged Marcus, just continuing to look at the artefact. But he did speak, and it held a smug undertone, while also keeping the same calm aura he seemed to inheritantly hold, "What I've always wanted."

Marcus turned to look at the library himself, before turning back to look at the Illusive Man who had now turned to look at Marcus, eyes blank of any form of emotion, "The data in these Archives holds the key to solving the Reaper threat."

He snorted, turning back to Liara to signal her to keep working while he talked to this bastard. Turning back as the asari continued to work, he moved forward, waving a finger in TIM's face, "I've seen your... _solution._ The despicable things you've done to your own bloody men. You've turned them into monsters. Worse, you've turned them into  _husks._ You might as well hand yourself to the Reapers on a silver platter."

The Illusive Man shook his head, sighing heavily, "Hardly. They're being improved," he waved his own hand in the captain's face, unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind Marcus' words, "That's what seperates me...from you, Shepard. Where you see a means to destroy, I see a means to control. To dominate the Reapers. To harness their power, and use it to advance humanity. Imagine how powerful humanity would be...if we controlled them. The galaxy would bow to us; like they should rightly have done thirty years ago."

Marcus looked at him with disgust, unable to believe the words pouring from the man's mouth.  _He's deluded. This...is too much. The Illusive Man could not possibly be this stupid to think that the Reapers can simply be controlled like that._

He laughed, shaking his head as he eyed the Illusive Man with a humorless smile, "You're an idiot, Illusive Man. You cannot seriously believe you can control the Reapers. They are simply too powerful. The only way to win this war is to control them and with the weapon hidden in these databanks," he pointed at Liara and the console, "We can make that reality. We can stop this threat, once and for all. We can break the cycle of extinction."

The Illusive Man shook his head, as if scolding a bad child, "Your vision is pathetically limited," with an exasperated sigh, he moved to his chair, picking up a cigarette and placing it in his mouth, turning back to Marcus as he lit it with a lighter and put the lighter away, taking the cigarette away from his mouth as he blew a puff of pixelated smoke, "You were a tool. An agent...with a singular purpose. And despite our differences, you were unbelievably successful. You destroyed the Collectors, and defeated a Human-Reaper, that is no small feat. And defeating the Shadow Broker was quite an impressive achievement. But that is all you were brought back to do. I invested billions of credits in you so you could destroy our enemy, that is all. I never intended for you to be a long term investment, and you've long since overstayed your welcome. Like the rest of the relics in this place, your time is over."

Marcus shook his head, eying the man, "I truly believed you were a person, Illusive Man. Sure, you and your organization have done horrific things in the past, and you may have tried to get me killed numerous times on the Collector campaign, but you provided me with a ship, a crew, an a squad, and weapons. You gave me the tools I needed to defeat our enemy, and I still believe we can destroy the Reapers. Join us. With the amount of resources Cerberus has, we can use it to create this weapon extremely fast. With Cerberus, the Alliance and the rest of the galaxy united, we can stop this threat. Join us, and we can defeat this enemy together."

The Illusive Man seemed to ponder this, before shaking his head with a single ghost of a smile...and then it was, his expression calm again, "You would do better than most, Shepard, and I admire your tenacity, but I don't want the Reapers destroyed. That is simply the way of it. You don't see it my way Shepard, and that's a pity, but I will not allow you to stop my ultimate goal. Humanity will control the Reapers, one way or another."

 _Its clear he isn't interested. So be it._ With a scoff, he shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear that," his pleading expression vanished, and his face became furious, "If that's going to be your stance, then enough of this talk. Liara," he turned to the asari, ignoring the Illusive Man's still present form, "Have you got the data?"

"Working on it," Liara informed him, "The Alliance put alot of encryption on this, but I'm on the last firewall."

TIM was desperate to make himself heard, but his voice came off as mildly irritated, "Don't get in my way, Shepard. I won't warn you again."

He turned to the Illusive Man, a snarl in his voice, "Oh, go fuck yourself. I'm done with you."

"Shepard!" Liara exclaimed in shock, slamming her hands against the console in frustration.

Alarm crossed his features, and he was moving forward in an instant and leaning over her, looking down on the terminal, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The schematics! The data! Its not here! The whole system's been erased! Wait," she typed a few commands into it and sighed in relief, "No, someone's wiped the system and has moved the data into a secure folder, and is downloading it remotely. I'm going to trace it. But we have to be quick! If they complete the download, we'll lose the data!"

Marcus, in anger, snapped around, prepared to meet the Illusive Man's eyes. When he did turn around, there was nothing, the QEC's hum dumming down to silence and his form blinking out of existence. He could imagine the smug thoughts going through the bastard's head. He almost panicked.  _No! I cannot lose this data! It is our only hope of-_

"Got it!" Liara exclaimed, turning to him, "The download...the point of origin is literally within this room," she pointed at a small, walled hub behind one of the support struts closest to the entrance, "Coming from that terminal."

He turned to her, pulling his helmet into place with a click, "Bet you its Doctor Core."

She nodded in agreement, and he commed Kaidan, who was fast approaching them, "Kaidan, the hub you're approaching is the source of a download. Find and stop whoever is doing it before they escape with it! Kill them if you have to, just don't let them get away!"

Kaidan nodded to him in the distance, before responding verbally over the radio, "Copy that." And with that, Kaidan disappeared behind the strut, Marcus turning back to his asari friend, who was currently in the process of trying to hack into the forged folder. Just as he moved to stand at her side, he heard the sound of armor hitting the ground, and a grunt. A grunt that sounded like it came from Kaidan.

He spun on the spot, his SMG in hand in a split second and aimed upwards, along with Liara's. They watched as Kaidan lay sprawling on the ground and the lithe form of Eva Core leapt over him, coming to stand at the steps, holding what looked to be an OSD in her hand. She gave them a blank stare, omni-tool aglow. With one final glance in their direction, she turned away, her movements robotic, as he ran up to Keeling and slammed a fist into her face, sending the N7 sprawling on the ground. Wasting no time, Eva sprinted past her, and through the way they came. Marcus and Liara were in close pursuit.

"You okay, Kaidan?"

"I'm fine!" he called out as he crawled to his feet, "Don't let her get away! GO! I'll catch up! JUST GO!"

Marcus had already been sprinting at the first 'go' and only Liara stuck around to hear the rest before turning to follow the captain, who was already sprinting out the door. Liara stayed behind to aid Keeling in getting up instead, and would also catch up.

As he ran through the doorway, he watched Eva leap through the shattered glass window of the security desk and roll over the corpse of a dead guardian, before turning to see if she had been pursued. Seeing Marcus barrelling straight at her, she keyed her omni-tool and launched an incinerate at him, one which his shields blocked, and merely blinded him temporarily. When his sight cleared, she was gone.

He cursed, fearing he had lost her when he heard the sound of a door opening, and as he turned left, he saw Eva rushing through and onto the dig site's roof, obviously heading for the landing pad ontop, the winds outside having now picked up. Sealing his helmet, he continued pursuit, his cybernetic legs pushing him as far as he would go to pick up with the incredibly fast sprinter, the man holstering his SMG just to gain more speed.

Rushing outside, he felt the winds of Mars batter against him and chill him to the bone, but he ignored them and kept running. He leapt over crates and piping, keeping his eyes on Eva in fear of her disappearing from sight. She didn't turn around for one second, and just kept on going, the woman never seeming to tire.  _How bloody fast is this woman? I thought she was a doctor, not an athlete!_

They ran through a tunnel, before Eva reached the end and swerved left and up a ramp. Marcus stopped and turned to follow her, watching the Cerberus agent climb up a metal ladder to the landing pad. He heard Liara shouting at him from behind, but merely ignored as he leapt up the ramp and jumped onto the ladder, his hand clasping around Eva's foot half way up the climb.

The woman looked down in an instant, head turning at an irregular angle. Eyes widening, he watched as she reared her other foot up and then down, the swift velocity carrying it straight into his visor, cracking it with the impact and sending him falling onto his back. He could only watch as she continued to climb up, as if swatting a fly.

He heard Keeling's voice in the background as his vision blurred for a moment, "Normandy! We need extraction immediately! Cortez, do you read? Does anyone hear me? We need extraction and backup! Target is escaping with mission critical intel. Requesting assistance, over!"

Kaidan leapt over him and landed on the ladder, climbing with lightning fast ferocity. By the time Marcus finally got control of his senses and got to his feet, Liara arriving beside him, Kaidan was already up and over, and disappeared above. Marcus quickly climbed up the ladder as well, followed by Keeling, then Liara.

His head peeked over the edge as he finished his trek up the ladder, and his eyes widened in horror. A Cerberus kodiak shuttle sat hovering over the platform, Eva having leapt into it, and now turning towards a running Kaidan. Two assault troopers helped her inside while another two fired at Kaidan, who offered counterfire. He managed to take down one trooper, who fell out of the shuttle and to his death, before the hatch slammed shut and began to ascend.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Marcus cried, leaping the final steps and onto the platform, his avenger rifle out and firing, but his shots pinged harmlessly off the shuttle's hull, and were harmless. Kaidan did the same, anger contorting his face. Marcus joined his side, but as the rest of the team joined them, they could only continue to watch as it continued its ascent.

His rifle screamed at him as he continued to hold his trigger down on the empty weapon, and he dropped the weapon, sighing with defeat.  _Why can't...it ever...be simple..._ The chances of winning this war now was pathetically slim, and without-

Almost out of nowhere, they heard the growing sounds of another kodiak. Then, out of the blue like a guardian angel, Cortez's shuttle appeared, shooting towards the Cerberus shuttle at high speed...

...and it wasn't stopping.

Watching in sheer amazement, the alliance kodiak slammed into the Cerberus shuttle's side, sending it spinning as its rear engines were sheared off from the impact. The alliance shuttle itself seemed to have some of its bow cave in, but overall, it was still airborne. The same could not be said for the Cerberus vessel.

Still spinning, fires danced in its hull before being burnt out by the lack of oxygen. It spun and spun, and rapidly descended towards them. Marcus ordered them to duck, and just as they hit the deck, the shuttle slammed into the ground infront of them, the bow section completely caving in and likely pulverizing the pilot, before the shuttle came to rest, luckily not exploding. Just the crash would have killed Eva and everyone else inside. Once again flames danced and then died, unable to breathe.

For a few moments, all of them simply stood there, in awe of their savior, and the now completely totalled Cerberus kodiak, and the likely mutilated passengers.  _Well...worries of them escaping are now moot._

Liara had fallen to the ground from the impact of the shuttle hitting, and Kaidan moved over to help her up, while Keeling signalled Cortez's shuttle down, which was descending just as rapidly as it arrived. Marcus, joining Keeling as Kaidan made sure Liara was alright, watched as the shuttle didn't even hover before landing it; it just plopped down onto the ground, a loud bang heard as it hit. On the other side was now Kaidan and Liara with the Cerberus shuttle, and on this side was the hatch, himself and Keeling.

He approached to open the hatch, but watched as it opened of its own accord. He opened his mouth to berate Cortez for his crazy flying, only to stop as James emerged, the man holding his head and shaking it.

Eyes meeting, James merely shrugged, "What?"

"Where's Cortez?" Marcus asked, confused.

"In here," a voice moaned, and as they looked, they watched Cortez emerge in an EVA suit, the man clearly displeased, and showing it even more with the glares he shot James, "I'm still in one piece...remarkably."

"What was with the crazy flying?" Marcus asked him, grinning.

Cortez shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh, "Me? No, that's curtesy of Mister Vega," he waved an over dramatic hand at the bulky marine, "Crazy bastard said 'we won't get there in time. We need to move faster' and pushed me aside. Next thing I know, I'm thrown into the hatch because this is insanist decided it was a great idea to practically throw a  _forty billion credit_ piece of hardware at another shuttle!"

"Forty billion? I thought it was only thirty," James replied, but noticing the look Marcus gave him, sighed, scratching the back of his neck, "Hey, we had to react quickly or they'd get away. Getting a firing solution would have taken too long; I thought...it'd be faster just to ram 'em."

"Typical thoughts of a thick jarhead," Cortez teased.

James seemed about to retort when Marcus spoke, shaking his head, "We'll talk about your treatment of highly-expensive property later. Just consider yourself lucky we have a second shuttle."

Nodding in agreement, they moved into the shuttle, only for Marcus to remember the data, "I'll be right back. I need to grab that data," but as he said these words, he heard banging, like something kicking metal. Another bang, followed by another. The sound soon became louder when the bang have a resounding thud, and all fell silent.

Then he heard a pistol discharging multiple times.  _What?_

He ran around the shuttle to find Liara on the ground again, blood pouring from a broken nose. The asari reset it, and as she turned around, Marcus did as well. He found the source of the banging; the hatch from the destroyed shuttle had been blown off and lay a few meters away, which had been the source of the thud. And standing not far away, was Eva...or what looked like Eva.

Her skin and face had melted away, revealing herself to be, in fact, a synthetic. An AI.  _No wonder she looked so robotic._ Her hair was now a metal, chrome outfit, and her eyes were surrounded by a blue interface. Her breasts were revealed to be nothing but metal bumps, and the rest of her body was basically the same. Multiple bullet holes marred her surface where Kaidan had opened fire, but failed to kill it. But right now, Eva was standing there, likely the reason for Liara's broken nose, holding a certain someone by the face with a strong, five-fingered hand.

Kaidan simply hung there, grasping at her hand, desperately trying to wriggle free.

His SMG was unhooked in seconds, taking aim at the robot, but he couldn't get a sight on the damn thing because Kaidan was in the way. He watched as Eva tapped a comm unit on the side of her head, metal lips parting to speak, "Orders?"

He growled.  _Illusive Man, you fucking piece of shit._

The synthetic seemed to receive her orders, and what Eva did next left him powerless. He could only watch as the synthetic changed grips to the back of Kaidan's neck, before dragging him over to the shuttle, and with as much strength as synthetically possible, began ramming the front of his helmet into the crashed vessel's hull, again and again and again.

 _ **"Kaidan!"**_ He roared, beginning to fire into the thing's back.  _I lost Ashley, I am not losing you! Not again! I will not lose anymore of my friends! Not now! Not by you!_ Eventually, his attacks got Eva's notice, and she dropped Kaidan, the marine long having been knocked unconscious, and his body slumped onto the ground, head lulling to the side. Eva turned towards him and with lightning speed began sprinting towards him, with the intent of doing the same to him.

His SMG ran out of ammo just as the bitch arrived and with a quickness that took Eva by surprise, quickly dropped it and grabbed the arm she had been using to punch him around the wirst. His grip tightened, stopping her from being able to escape and he rammed his head forwards, slamming it into Eva's. Her interface faded in and out from the impact, and he heard metal crack from the impact, but he kept up his assault, rage flowing through his veins.

He kneed her in the chest just as she was working up a kick, and quickly brought another knee into her face once more. She reeled back, but rapidly recovered, turning and side-kicking him into his ribcage, and causing him to double backwards. Noticing the synthetic was now on one-leg, he ducked under her leg and swept the other one out from under her, causing her to fall to the ground in a heap.

With the synthetic downed, he unhooked her pistol and put it to her forehead, teeth gritted as he leaned in, eyes meeting her blank ones, "Tell the Illusive Man this. Fuck you."

A pistol barked, and Eva went limp, her body ceasing all movement as the pistol entered her temple, blowing out her circuitry. Wind battered against him as she simply crouched there, eyes never moving from Eva's body.  _Noone hurts my friends. Noone. I already lost Ashley, I'm not losing anyone else. I lost Pressly, Johnson. I lost them. But I'm not_ _ **losing anyone else.**_

James was at his side, and he broke from his thoughts, slapping the man on the shoulder, "Get this...thing onto the shuttle. I want EDI analyzing it as soon as possible. Make sure its dead before you take it to the...VI...core, and put it down. I don't want it waking up and having instant access to EDI's database. Now move, Lieutenant! Don't object, just bloody do it!"

James nodded without hesitation, moving to scoop up Eva's body in his arms while Marcus got up and jogged over to Kaidan's limp form, crouching over him tenderly, "Kaidan. Kaidan, talk to me. Come on, Alenko. Talk to me, that's an order!"

The man did not budge, or speak, or even batter an eyelash. He simply lay there, unmoving. Marcus checked for a pulse, and sighed with relief as he found one, but it was very feint. He needed medical attention, and fast.  _The Citadel...Huerta Memorial...if I can get Kaidan there they can save him._

He patted the man on the shoulder, moving to heft him up, "Hang in there, soldier. You don't get to die yet. None of us do. We've got a job to do first, and we're only just getting started."

The roar of the Normandy's engines was heard over him as he slung Kaidan over his shoulder effortlessly, and as he turned around, he saw the frigate looming over the platform, casting its shadow over them, and its shuttle bay door hung open and banging against the floor. Joker's voice shouted into his comm, "Shepard, we have to go! EDI's detected Reaper forces in orbit; at least five Sovereign-Class capital ships, and seven Destroyers. There's also thirty-two Tarantula-Class Troop Transports, as they've identified them. We need to leave now!"

He heard the urgency in the pilot's voice and immediately spun as he heard the familiar sound of an airhorn, watching as a Reaper capital ship landed nearby, the impact of its landing causing the ground to shake beneath it. A Reaper destroyer landed just infront of the sandstorm, roaring its victory. As he looked up, he saw the sky was alight with fire; the Reapers obviously had destroyed the space stations and shipyards in orbit, and were moving to the surface. Earth had fallen, and now the rest of the Sol System was about to follow.

Turning away, he ran up to the shuttle bay door, and stepped onto it. James was already rushing inside with Eva in his arms, while Keeling held Liara under arm, the asari cradling her broken nose, purple blood oozing from her nostrils, while Cortez rushed past her. By the time Marcus was off the ramp, the frigate was already lifting off, and he looked at Mars for the last time before the door shut away the view. It would be the last planet he ever saw in his home system for a very long time.

Inhaling, he then exhaled, steeling himself for the battles to come.  _This war will likely destroy me, but I won't let it do it lightly. I will not stop until the Reapers are destroyed, the Illusive Man is dead, and Cerberus is in ruins. We cannot lose. We must not lose. It'll mean the destruction of all galactic life as we know it if we do._

He commed his helmet once more, speaking to Joker in a rough tone, "Get us out of here, Joker. Head for the Andura Sector and link up with the rest of the alliance naval forces there. We'll head to the Citadel together."

"Got ya Shepard," Joker sighed, "Its hard leaving."

"Its going to get harder," he growled, hating the acid in his tone as he increased his pace to the elevator, afraid if he stayed he might reconsider leaving, "Best get used to it. This war's only just begun, and now two players are on the field."

As the elevator doors closed behind him, and he shuffled Kaidan's unconscious weight on his shoulder, he cut the comm, and became what the galaxy needed him to be.

Captain or not, Commander Shepard was back in action.

**"So that's when you first encountered Cerberus on the battlefield? When you learnt of the Illusive Man's intent?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Indeed. And it wouldn't be the last. There would be many and more battles before the war is over. But the Reapers were always the main threat. Even Cerberus knew that."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So you linked up with the fleets in the Andura sector, and headed for the Citadel. What happened then?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"We talked to the Council. And again, the idiocy was palpable. But this time it was out of terror...not ignorance. I had never seen them so terrified."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You believed me dead? You thought wrong. He's another chapter to prove that.** _

_**The chapters following this will be largely based on the Citadel, but do not worry. Shepard will be running into quite a few friends along the way.** _

_**Please leave reviews and Keelah Se'lai!** _


	4. Undeserved Splendor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at the Citadel, Shepard pleads with the Council to form a united front against the Reapers.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**ARCHIVES OF HOPE**

_June 2, 2186_

_1218 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Passing Luna._

_The Reaper War, Fall of Earth._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

His footsteps seemed to echo through the bay as he left the bay door's side, moving towards what looked to be some kind of...armoury? Actually, he decided to stop for a moment, and took a good long look around the shuttle bay. The lighting was considerably darker than he remembered, and the vent ducts that lined the bottom deck were now missing, replaced with smooth deck plating.

The area where the second kodiak shuttle used to be was now replaced with a massive storage of hap-hazardly placed crates, and in the middle of all that was a makeshift armoury; a bench with a light placed over it, a disassembled N7 Crusader shotgun ontop of its surface. Behind it was three storage lockers, along with five more further back, likely holding the ship's weapons. Above that was a metal bar stretching across, likely for pull-ups.

Before the elevator was the usual console setup, but Marcus could now see a locker for armor on the right steel support strut, and the entire interface seemed to have more consoles this time, where a dark-skinned man in alliance standards was typing; a man he didn't recognize. To his left was a long launch-pad, like a runway that was railed off, and sitting at the end, on the elevator side of the bay, was a brand-new kodiak shuttle, colored Alliance blue and white, but with a darker finish and sitting above it, a single replacement suspended on a metal cable. But this design looked different to stand kodiaks; this one had two, front-mounted cannons, and the hatch appeared to have a lower, segmented section, and overall, it looked larger than its original counterpart. Same was said for the one above it.

Overall, the bay looked largely unfinished; likely the retrofit hadn't been completed, and they had to leave it like that during their haste to escape the shipyard. A few lights were even flickering on the ceiling.

His observation of the bay was abruptly interrupted as he was brought back to the present, James suddenly in his face, tossing his helmet to the ground and his face contorted in rage, "Where the hell are we going!?  _We can't leave!_ That is our bloody homeworld down there! We can't just leave them to die! I was born on Earth! That's my  _home._ "

Marcus sighed, pushing past James with relative ease and making his way over to the man operating the console near the shuttle, "Anderson and I both know what has to be done. The only way to save Earth now is to leave it. Gather help."

"That's bullshit!" James exclaimed, and he could hear footsteps behind him as James pursued him across the bay. Kaidan and Keeling now joined the man, and Kaidan seemed to be talking to him, "Thouands are dying down there! Are we seriously going to just leave them down there? Take us back down there! Take us back to Earth!"

He had enough, spinning to face James, his face also contorted in irritation, "And do what, genius? Throw pebbles at them? Because that might as well be what we're doing! It took three fleets to fight them. And they got annihilated!  _Three._ Tell me James, just what do you think we can do?"

James seemed lost for words, but quickly regained his composure, poking a finger in his chest, "You're a damn hero! You could at least help evacuate! But this is what you do? Piss off, leave Anderson behind, and leave everyone to die? That isn't the Commander Shepard I know."

 _More hero worship. For fuck sake,_ "For starters, its  _Captain_ Shepard now," he moved forward, grabbing James by the color and lifting him up into the air with ease, despite the heavy armor the marine wore, "And you need to take a big fucking look around you, because this isn't a game anymore. Heroics won't win this war; quick decisions will. I can't afford to play the good guy in this, and neither can you. This is war; there are no rules. I will do anything to win, even if that means sacrificing Earth to stop these bastards," by the time he was finished, he was silently fuming.  _I will not tolerate this hero worship anymore. We fight or we die. There is no other option._

James looked down at him with wide eyes, "But its my home..."

"You think losing your home is bad? Try losing your entire family. My mother was a captain on the Orizaba in the Fourth Fleet. Her body is probably floating through space now," he growled, "We've all lost something, on Earth or over it, but we'll be losing alot more before this war is over. Its only going to get worse; and you either get with the program, or you die. This isn't a democracy anymore; if you want to go back to Earth, fine, but you'll be taking a shuttle from the Citadel, because the Normandy isn't going back. Now control yourself."

He relieved his grip on the soldier, dropping him on his feet. James recovered himself, before taking a step back, waving a dismissive hand, and growling loudly, before kicking a crate in his way aside and moving towards the armoury. Marcus was barely fazed by the outburst, and merely headed over to Kaidan and the man at the console.

The man immediately snapped a firm salute, his entire posture straightening like a taught bow, "Comma-Captain...sir."

As Marcus returned the salute, he allowed himself to observe the alliance officer. The man wore a standard issue alliance officer uniform, the bars of a Lieutenant in the Alliance Navy pinned on his left breast. His eyes landed on his face next. His skin was a deep coffee brown, much like Jacob's, but his eyes were more narrowed, his nose slightly smaller, and his jaw less firm. His ears poked out slightly, and he had smooth cheeks until you reached the area around his mouth, where medium stubble poked out. He had thin eyebrows, and just enough black hair to keep from being bald. And his eyes shone bright blue.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Marcus replied, dropping his own salute as the other man did. Judging by the man's accent, he was American, "What's your name, trooper?"

The man laughed, shaking his head, "No trooper, sir. I'm a pilot. By the looks of it now... _your_ pilot," he shuffled, nodding as he continued, "As for the name, I am Lieutenant Steve Cortez, Alliance Navy."

"Welcome to the Normandy Cortez," Marcus greeted, holding out his hand, to which Cortez hesitantly looked at it before accepting, shaking his captain's hand before retracting, "Guess I now have three new members to my crew."

"Four, actually," Kaidan piped up, jabbing a thumb at the elevator, "You haven't met Comms Specialist Traynor. Although, all of this is rather unexpected, actually."

"How so?" Marcus quizzed.

Cortez decided to fill in, shrugging his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, we weren't actually meant to be part of your crew at all. Myself, Traynor and everyone else were all here for the retrofits only. Traynor was assigned here due to her tech skills, and was meant to pull apart and analyze that quantum entanglement communicator Cerberus gave you. Me? I'm the pilot. I just used my shuttle to ferry supplies from the port to the ship. That's all. My assignment here wasn't meant to be permanent."

Marcus grinned, "Trust me, alot of us never 'intended' to stay...yet here we are," he lost his grin as it grew though, "The reasons for it however are...quite different this time."

Cortez waved a dismissive hand, "Its like you said; Earth is only the beginning. The galaxy will soon be flooding with those bastards. I heard the reports about those Reapers. Shocking stuff. I'm just happy I pilot shuttles."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, an idea popping into his mind, "You got any experience in combat zones? Extraction? Insertion?"

Cortez grinned toothily, "Sure do. That's why I signed up. Used to pilot the old F-61 Trident interceptors back during my posting on the SSV Hawking. They're alot faster than kodiak shuttles, but I can definitely manage them. You want a pilot, you choose me."

"And you're chosen," he nodded, patting the man on the shoulder, "Now you get to put up with our shit," he motioned between him and Kaidan, the latter chuckling. As they all turned, they saw James sitting in the corner, his armor stripped off and lying all over the bay floor, and he seemed to be brooding, looking blankly at the floor. Marcus could feel his pain, and understood it.

"Leaving Earth to save it," Kaidan muttered, coming to stand by his side, the captain turning to face the biotic sentinel as he shook his head lightly, "It couldn't have been an easy decision to make."

"The best decisions are never easy," Marcus replied, and Kaidan merely looked at him as he went on, "Its making them count that makes it all worth it," he met Kaidan's eyes, "We'll come back Kaidan. We'll return to Earth, and save it. With the biggest armada in history. We'll make the Reapers shit themselves, that I can promise."

"How?" Keeling spoke for the first time since the ordeal, and both of them turned to the N7 who stood there, weapon holstered and helmet still on as she spoke, "You can't just slam a force like that together. It takes alliances, treaties, brotherhoods. You make friends, you make enemies, you piss people off, hug a few more, and then threaten some. It isn't something you assemble in a month. It takes time."

"Then we'll make time," Marcus stated, "And we'll start with the Council," he turned back to Kaidan, dropping his cold facade for but a moment as he eyed the elevator with disdain before turning back to Kaidan, "So, give me the damage report, Alenko. I've seen the Shuttle Bay, and I'm not impressed. How much of the ship has the Alliance changed?"

Kaidan smirked, liking the hint of annoyance in Marcus' tone. He couldn't say he didn't feel it as well, but to be honest, what did he expect under the Alliance whip? "Surprisingly little, actually. They may have planned to change more, but they never got around to it. Traynor can give you the full tour, but I'll just sum it up for you. Engineering is completely unchanged, and is the maintenance area below where Jack used to hide. The Garbage Disposal Area's been removed though, and its been replaced with 'VIP quarters' as the crew call them. Its a clean room; what for, I haven't a clue."

Marcus groaned, "Continue."

Kaidan resisted the urge to laugh, "The Cargo Port where Grunt used to hang out got cleaned out, and I guess its just a storage area now. They tossed out his tank, and some other changes may have happened, but I didn't bother to look. As for the Crew Deck; alot worse, I'm afraid. For god know's what reason, they added a poker table in the Lounge where Kasumi hung out, they left the crew's quarters and Life Support alone, as is the same with Port Observation. The XO's quarters have been cleaned out and they never got to change it, the AI Core and Medical Bay have been left untouched, and a few consoles were added to the Gunnery Control, and it was extended slightly."

"Garrus will have a field day with that setup," Marcus declared, grinning, but Kaidan could see the sense of sadness that eminated from mentioning the absent turian, "Keep going."

"The biggest changes were to the CIC deck. A door has been added to the cockpit, and the Tech Lab has been switched from its original location to the armoury's original location, which in turn has been moved to the Shuttle Bay."

"I've noticed," the captain deadpanned, glancing at the 'armoury' that James currently sat in, "Looks considerably smaller now, too. But I understand the change. Never understood why Cerberus thought it a great way to store all their weapons on the command deck."

"Exactly," Kaidan replied, before continuing, "Traynor's made her home at Kelly's old terminal, and a...don't ask me why, but remember that pointless, empty box inbetween the CIC and the old Tech Lab's location?"

"Yeah..." Marcus trailed off, not liking where this was going.

"Well, they decided to fill it," Kaidan replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "Added a security checkpoint. Two officers currently man it, Privates Bethany Westmoreland and Sarah Campbell, and its just a metal detector field. Pointless thing, but I guess it makes sense. As for the Tech Lab, in addition to moving it to the Armoury's original position, its been replaced by a 'debriefing' room. They basically removed the old Conference Room, but kept the table, using it for that room, and surrounding it with glass. The corridor between the Armoury and Tech Lab has been filled with four bulkheads, and a War Room was added, that is accessed through the debriefing room. The Quantum Entanglement Communicator was removed, but we added a new Alliance-built one. Not quite as advanced as Cerberus', but it serves its function. As for your cabin, they've literally done nothing to it. The airlock you installed for Tali is untouched, and the cabin itself has had no changes made to it. Noone's even set foot on that deck. Literally."

Marcus nodded.  _Good. I'd have killed the asshole who removed that airlock. Noone touches my home._ _ **Our**_ _home._ Thinking of Tali wasn't as painful anymore, especially since he could not only contact, but now visit, her now. He made a move towards the elevator, but was stopped as he heard EDI's voice over his intercom, "Captain, it is good to see you again."

"EDI," he smiled warmly, "Its good to hear another friendly voice. Been looking after Joker?"

"Jeff is fine. He has been keeping me safe, and he says I've done quite well; acting as a VI," the AI responded, and he swore he heard a smile in her voice, "It is good to be under your command again. Being surrounded by alliance personnel, especially nosey ones trying to access my core, has been...quite interesting."

He chuckled, "Its okay, EDI. Noone will get into your core, I know that much."

"Thank you Shepard," she replied, before speaking again, "We have just received an emergency call from the SSV McKinley near Neptune. Fleet Admiral Hackett has taken what was left of the Earth Defense Fleet and is making leeway for the Sol Relay. He has ordered an official quarantine and evacuation of all Alliance personnel from the system, a complete trade embargo, and is attempting to contact your omni-tool directly."

Marcus seemed to immediately stop in his tracks, and he whorled in an instant, his eyes meeting Kaidan's, "Wait, you're saying the communication is coming from the McKinley? Hackett's alive?"  _And maybe my mother too..._

EDI's reply was instantaneous, "Yes, although the extent of damage done to his fleet is currently unknown. Aside from that, Admiral Hackett did survive the invasion of Earth, and is currently in orbit of Neptune."

He nodded, bringing up his omni-tool, "Put him through EDI."

The AI did so without verbal reply, and he watched as his omni-tool sprang to life around his wrist, and Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett's face appeared on screen, his face just as old and grissled as it was before his arrest. The man seemed to be sitting in his command chair on the McKinley's bridge, and he could see that it was a flurry of activity.

Hackett replied instantly, sighing with relief, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard. When I heard the reports from Earth, I thought you were dead for sure. Is Anderson with you? What about Admiral Garrong? Have you heard from him?"

Marcus gulped, looking at Hackett sadly, "Anderson stayed behind sir; they need a leader, he said, and that leader is him apparently. As for Garrong...Admiral sir, Garrong's dead. I watched him die. Harbinger killed him and the entire Vancouver Defense Committee right before my eyes."

Hackett looked at the ground for a second, before shaking his head, and looking back up, "Based on the line of succession, with Garrong dead, command of the Alliance Navy goes to the one closest to promotion...which just happens to be me. I'm Fleet Admiral of the Navy now," he slammed a clenched fist into the control interface on his chair, meeting Marcus' eyes, "Always knew I'd be promoted someday, but I never knew it would happen like this."

"None of us did," the captain replied, "Anderson has reinstated me, and I've been promoted to Captain. Is there a particular area where the Normandy can regroup with what's left of our ships?"

"Promoted? Can't say you haven't earned it. And right now, we need all the able-bodied officers we can get," Hackett muttered, nodding as he tapped a few controls on his interface, "Yes. We'll be regrouping with the rest of the fleets in the Andura System; then we'll take it from there. Netanyahu and Singh's fleets took a beating, but so far they, and their dreadnoughts, are intact. Teoh and Nakamura's fleets were totally ignored, so they haven't taken a beating whatsoever, and from what I've heard, Ward's fleet is currently engaging a Reaper scouting force in the Artemis Tau Cluster. He's taking a beating, and he's going to try to reconsolidate his forces over Ontarom before he tries to regroup with us. As for my fleet, Arefyev's and Drescher's..."

Marcus gulped, dreading this moment, "What's the damage Admiral?"

"My fleet took one hell of a beating, and I think the McKinley lost its port engine from a grazing shot," he rubbed his temple, shaking his head, "The other fleets weren't so lucky. Arefyev had to sacrifice half of her ships just to provide us a line of retreat, but it wasn't long before they fell apart. Drescher...she stayed behind to give us time to escape."

"Wait, are you telling me that...?"

Hackett nodded solemnly, eyes closing, "Afraid I am, Captain. The Second Fleet is gone. Nothing left of it. Drescher even took her flagship, the SSV Shasta, and lead the way. I watched it unfold Shepard. The Shasta was blown to pieces, but the fleet stood their ground. But their gone Shepard. Not a ship left, or fighter. No escape pods, nothing. Drescher's dead, along with her flagship."

Marcus mentally cursed the Reapers in his mind.  _An entire fleet just wiped out. I never liked Drescher, but damn it...that's two admirals dead, along with an entire fleet. I hope the news gets better,_ "What...what about Arefyev's flagship? The Orizaba? Is my mother still alive?" He hoped upon all that she was.

Hackett nodded, a small smile on his lips, "That, I can say, is the first piece of good news. Arefyev survived, and the Orizaba got out almost completely unscatched. Half of her Fourth Fleet is gone, but her ship survived. As for the Orizaba's captain; she's alive and well; rest easy on that, captain."

Marcus nodded, "Thank you sir."  _There might be hope for this war yet._ Shaking his head, both of their faces became solemn again as the former commander spoke, "Just how bad was it, Hackett? I saw the attack on Earth, but I wasn't there during the fleet engagement."

Hackett inhaled through his nose, giving a mirthless chuckle as he scratched the bridge of his nose, "Just as you said it would be, Shepard. I know my fleet fought Sovereign head on three years ago, but that was just  _one_ Reaper. When hundreds of those bastards came pouring through the relay...we sustained heavy losses, as you already know. Our orbital guns around Pluto, Uranus, Jupiter, Neptune...systematically obliteratered. Strangely, they seemed to leave Mars well enough alone, and their shipyards and ground facilities have been left unmolested as of yet, but I doubt it'll stay like that for long. Our fleet engaged them over Earth, but even with the orbital gun platforms to aid us, it didn't do much. We didn't get a single kill, Shepard, not one. They blew through us, destroyed the orbital guns, and then made straight for Earth. They were dropping globally in seconds."

"What about Jump Zero?" Marcus asked, confused as to the status of the large space station that Kaidan had grown up on, "And Luna Base? What happened to them?"

Hackett shrugged, "We know that three of the ones we're calling 'Destroyers,' that's the small, crab-like walkers, deployed onto Luna and completely destroyed our launch facilities and bases down there, so our Hannibal-VI combat suites couldn't help us. As for Jump Zero...last we checked, the Reapers had taken the station, but we never actually saw what they did with it. Its safe to assume they destroyed it, along with Arcturus Station. The enemy force was just overwhelming, Shepard. Never, in all of human history, have we encountered an enemy so merciless. So fearless. So...unbeatable."

_Oh, but they can be beaten. Sovereign was beaten. The Human-Reaper was beaten. I watched Desolation and Primal get vaporized by the Alpha Relay explosion. Four Reapers have died...they can be beaten. It just takes every bloody weapon in the galaxy to do it._

"There's no way we can defeat them conventionally," Hackett surmised, breaking Marcus from his reverie, "It'll take a damn miracle to help us out of this one. And with Earth fallen, the Parliament dead, most of our space in Reaper-occupied territory...the Alliance is a battered shell, Shepard. The Council is the only form of government we have left now. We've lost a fleet, and the rest are battered remnants. Its chaos. People will lose hope. Some might even believe this is humanity's extinction event...and who can blame them?"

 _Oh, its our extinction event alright. But I'm going to stop it._ Marcus nodded, shaking his head, "As much as I am loathe to admit it, Anderson was right sending us to the Citadel. He wants me to speak with the Council, try and rally support from the turians, asari and salarians. If we get them onboard, we have the foundation for our military counterattack. They can't deny the Reapers exist anymore; not with two whole governments having fallen in  _six hours._ "

"Agreed," Hackett declared, before leaning forward, hands clasped in his lap, "Anderson has the right idea...but you can't leave the Sol System yet. I've just received mission critical intel...I ignored it at first, but after reading over it, this could be seriously important to any further war effort. This mission is a priority one, and with you reinstated in the Alliance Navy, that puts you under my command."

Marcus gritted his teeth, not liking the fact that he now had to take orders.  _I make my own orders. This is_ _ **my**_ _war, and you're all my pawns. But if this is priority one, it must be important..._

"What is it, Hackett?" He asked, with alittle bit of annoyance creeping into his tone.

The admiral spoke and provided without fail, "Before you leave Sol, I need you to head to the Prothean Archives on Mars."

His eyes widened and his brow raised, "What the hell do we hope to find there? No disrespect sir, but a bunch of data isn't going to make Reapers drop from the sky."

Hackett shook his head, "We've got to stop thinking guns here, Shepard. We've got to start thinking ideas. Data might just be the thing we need to stop the Reapers. Before Arcturus fell, we learnt that the scientists at the Archives had discovered something located deep in the ground. Shepard, they discovered another beacon, but this one was more advanced. They called it a Library. Its a treasure trove of information, and they were coming to close to discovering something referring to a 'super weapon' before we lost contact."

The words 'super weapon' peaked his interest enough for him to take this seriously, "I'll have my pilot plot a course for the Mars Archives immediately."

Hackett nodded, "Just be careful, Shepard. We lost contact with the facility, but the strange thing is, it was long before the Reapers even arrived in system."

He narrowed his eyes, "So if isn't the Reapers, then who is it?"

He sighed, "I don't know, Shepard. That's up to you to find out. I'll contact you when we've consolidated our forces in Andura. Once that's done, you can link up with us. I've decided our best option is to head to the Citadel; mold our forces with the Citadel fleet and resupply, hopefully get some repairs. With most of our shipyards taken or destroyed by the Reapers, it seems we have no choice but to seek outside help. And while you're getting help from the Council, maybe you can find out how the other races are reacting to this. See their stance on it."

 _And locate the Migrant Fleet. Find Tali. Go to Rannoch. Make peace with the geth. Getting those two working together will create an alliance more powerful than all the Citadel races combined._ Marcus nodded his agreement, "We'll see each other then, Admiral. Shepard out," with that, he cut the connection, deactivating his omni-tool as he looked up to meet Kaidan's eyes. He gave a brief nod before addressing Joker, knowing EDI was listening.

"Set a course for the Mars Archives, Joker. Best speed. I want this over with before the Reapers completely seal off the system," he ordered.

Joker's response was quick and to the point, "Copy that...captain. EDI says we'll be there in ten to fifteen minutes. I'd be putting on my costumes and getting ready to dance if I were you."

He snarkily replied, "Thank you Joker," he turned to Kaidan, motioning to the armor locker, "Let me guess...they got rid of my Terminus Armor? Replaced it with the standard issue?"

Kaidan squared his shoulders, grinning, "Sorry, Captain. Alliance regs are a bitch, unfortunately."

 _Alliance regs changed my ship color, and turned my vessel into a stereotypical horror house. Any darker and I might trip over myself._ He shook his head, quickly moving over to the locker and keying it open to retrieve his gear.

"I just hope they have good weapons."

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1240 hours._

_Troop Compartment, UT-47A Kodiak Combat/Stealth Shuttle, Inbound for Systems Alliance Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

"I hate these weapons."

The chatter in the shuttle had been constant as they had left the Normandy and headed for Mars surface, locking onto the Mars Archives. They all stood their with full armor, with James in the co-pilot's seat, and Cortez in the pilot's. When Marcus had seen the armor he was to wear, he had cringed; it was light, covered head-to-toe in Alliance blue and white, and the shoulderpads seemed huge for its body. The breather helmet he wore didn't make up for it, and he already missed his Terminus armor, especially when he saw the kinetic barriers on it and how weak they were.

The weapons he was provided weren't much better. He preferred assault rifles and shotguns, but had gotten a liking for SMGs ever since their introduction, and gotten used to using them. He had loved his geth pulse rifle, claymore heavy shotgun, and Locust SMG, especially the latter due to it being a replica of the one that killed two Presidents many decades ago, stolen from Donovan Hock's treasure vault. Kasumi had the real idea, thank god; if he had it, the Alliance would have confiscated that instead.

So far, all he liked was his new SMG and shotgun, his SMG being an N7 Hurricane, and his shotgun a N7 Piranha. Aside from that, the lackluster M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle stood pretty far out from his better weapons.  _Why would they give me two N7 weapons, then just dump this piece of shit AR on me?_ The N7 Piranha was by far his most impressive weapon. Built to resemble a grenade launcher, the Piranha sacrificed severe damage for rapid-fire capability, and wide pallet spread, making it one of the most effective shotguns out there.

But that didn't mean he loved any of them. He still preferred the Claymore, and he still preferred the Locust. Simple as that.  _Maybe I'll get them back._

He shifted in his unbelievably light armor; simply listening as Kaidan chuckled, Keeling cleared her throat, and James and Cortez remained silent as ever. Marcus merely shot Kaidan a glare before tightening the straps on his shoulders, and looking around the cabin. The cabin was definitely larger than the ones in the old kodiaks, had better lighting, more seats and a tiny vidscreen to the side for briefings. Cracking his neck, he turned to look at the back of Cortez's skull, speaking through his helmet, "I've never seen this type of kodiak before, Cortez. What's up with the design?"

"A new design," Cortez stated a matter-of-factly, sounding excited to explain more about his beloved shuttle, "The UT-47 _A_  kodiak, not the UT-47. This is a new alliance design, with some help from engineers in the Salarian Union in a joint project; kinda like the joint Alliance-Hierarchy project with the Normandy-Class Stealth Frigates. This shuttle has better engines, tow forward facing cannons for light combat and defense, bigger troop space, and is overall a dropship. Its one new feature though is the compacted stealth drive it uses. Its a smaller version of the one used by the Normandy-Class."

He raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, "Wait, you're saying this shuttle is stealth capable? Noone can see us unless they look out a window?"

Cortez nodded, smiling, "Its currently active right now. Alliance won't know we've landed until we're already there."

Marcus sighed, turning away as Kaidan spoke, "This still doesn't make any sense. Hackett already said the Reapers weren't in system when the Archives dropped out of contact. Who could be attacking this facility? Only explanation I can see is the facility deliberately cutting all contact, but why would they do that? It makes no sense, none of this."

 _Cerberus couldn't be involved; the Illusive Man has nothing to gain by attacking the Archives. So someone else has to be behind this._ He shrugged non-chatantly, "We won't know until we land. Maybe they did sever contact, but whatever the reason, it can't be good. Just be ready. It could be terrorists...or an advance force of Reapers."

Kaidan exhaled, nodding gently as James called out from the cabin, "We'll be landing in one minute. Got to make this quick though; sandstorm's moving in."

He saw Keeling move from her steel pose, ceasing the tune she had been whistling as she stood up, grabbing her weapon, "I've encountered those sandstorms before during my time here. Definitely not pretty, and you don't want to be caught in them. If they're close enough to see, we'll have roughly forty minutes before it arrives." A beep, followed by a mechanical whir, was heard as her battle rifle, an N7 Valkyrie, folded out into her hands, Keeling moving towards the hatch. Another difference with this shuttle compared to the original is, unlike the original, instead of flipping open, this hatch had two sections; a lower portion, and the upper, which was bigger. When the hatch opened, the lower portion slid to the left, while the upper portion slid upwards. A pointless design change, but a design change nonetheless.

Keeling spoke again, her voice pure steel, "We'll also want to make sure we leave before the storm hits, which gives a mission window of twenty minutes, tops. Once it hits, we'll have alot of problems keeping up comms with the Normandy. And the shuttle. Interferes with the electrical transmissions."

"Maybe a sandstorm is why their comms dropped?" James piped, and everyone turned to see him walking into the cabin, heavy armor back on and helmet fitting over his large head, clicking into place with a hiss of air, "Could be why we're here. We could be charging into the Archives, weaponized, only to find the place to be fine."

Marcus shook his head, "I may be a soldier, but I know how sandstorms work. They're periodic, not constant. If a sandstorm is the cause of this blackout, then why is this one hitting so quickly? They appear annually, not daily."

"Precisely," Keeling complimented, clearly smiling, "Didn't know you knew alot about sandstorms, sir."

He grinned back, noticing the swift change in her tone, "I don't. That's basic knowledge."

"Hey, I'm just the marine," James quipped, letting his Revenant fold out into his hands, "I just shoot shit, and then ask questions about them later."

"We're approaching the drop zone," Cortez declared, turning to face them in his seat, "I'm going to drop just outside the main entrance. I've tried raising comms with the facility, but everything seems to be dead. I don't even see people outside; usually there would be maintenance teams outside doing clean up. There's just nothing."

Captain Shepard nodded sharply before moving to the front of the group, begrudgingly folding out his assault rifle and waiting for the hatch to open as Keeling, Kaidan and James fell in behind him. He smiled mentally.  _I've gone from the most multi-species squad in living history to straight humans in six months. I hope they're alright._

Before he could query his mind for further thoughts, the hatch slid apart, revealing the dusty, wasteland-like surface of Mars. Big rocks made up most of the surface, but overall the planet had the same, dull, yellow/golden sands all around, with dust and dirt kicking up from the ground as winds from the sandstorm reached them, but they were pretty light at the present moment. He could see the form of the Archives towering over the rocks; a large dome structure that covered kilometers of territory, with the actual Prothean Archives dig site on the other side.  _Along with the Prothean Library they dug up._

When they hovered roughly a meter off the ground, Marcus leapt off, landing with a grunt on the ground. He moved into a roll, and immediately came into a crouch, his assault rifle raised and scanning the terrain. No enemies presented themselves and he slowly came to his feet, and jogged forward, one hand raised in the air, motioning to his squad to deploy. Not long after, the rest of his squad deployed, and he watched Cortez guide the shuttle away and back into a safe position, "This is Lieutenant Cortez, going on station until you need me, captain."

"Copy that Cortez. Stay clear unless we need air support. Shepard out," cutting his comms, he set up a link between him and his squad before testing it, watching three green indicators pop up in the bottom left of his HUD to say they were connected, "Keeling, you're with me. James, Kaidan, keep the rear."

The sound of three copies followed, and he began to jog forward through the oxygenless atmosphere of Mars, his feet making prints in the soft dirt as he rushed past. All was silent as they reached a incline where they could slide down below, a metal ladder built into the wall leading up to them. He moved to holster his rifle when he heard James exclaim in hispanic, and they all turned right to see the gigantic wall of sand moving towards them.

It was like one gigantic plume of yellow smoke moving towards them, stretching out across the horizon and brissling with sand and dirt and smoke. Blue flashes inside it signalled an electrical storm, only adding to the intensity of its destruction, "Don't want to be caught in that. Let's get inside before it hits," Marcus ordered, and he slid down the ladder.

He had hit the bottom and was turning around, moving to unholster his rifle again when he saw the three dead Alliance marines lying on the ground. He immediately dropped into a crouch, scanning the area to the right, but he saw no hostiles, only sounds...shouting! He heard shouting!"

He commed his squad as they came down, "Take positions. Confirmed enemy presence."

As they took positions behind nearby rocks, Keeling checked the dead bodies, apparently adept at investigation, "Gunnery Sergeant George Reece, with Corporal Victoria Ayelt and Lance Corporal Peter Fault. They seemed to have been gunned down; due to the wounds, I'd say they were hit while moving for their weapons, and the erraticness of their wounds are consistent with automatic weapons fire; likely an assault rifle or SMG."

He turned to his group, "Could be Reapers. The Cannibals, the batarian husks, on Earth, they had automatic weapons grafted into their arms. But the reports also said they devoured dead bodies to add armor plating to their bodies; these bodies are unmolested. Something isn't right," he nodded to them, pointing to the corner that wrapped around to the left again, and towards the base main entrance, "We move forward, try to find out what we're dealing with here. I have a sense its not Reapers."

Move forward they did, and when they reached the corner, they quickly found out what the cries and shouts were about.

Two Grizzly tanks and a Mako were parked on the left, all looking to be in a convoy formation. But it was the five alliance marines lined up on their knees, hands behind their heads that took them by surprise. And behind them was a soldier in bulky looking white and gold armor, mattock rifle in hand, moving along them shouting, whilst being surrounded by soldiers in similiar colored armor, albeit alot lighter. If the color didn't confirm it, the insignia on their shoulderpads and chestplate did. A golden hexagon.

 _Cerberus. Now we know why this facility fell silent. But what the hell could the Illusive Man possibly want from the Archives? And why is he attacking the Alliance? He should be helping us fight the Reapers!_ He also didn't recognize the armor the soldiers were wearing,  _those don't look like the standard commando; they look heavily armed and armoured. Did they get an upgrade in the past six months? And does those vehicles have a Cerberus insignia on it?_ A quick look confirmed it,  _shit._

"Cerberus," Kaidan hissed beside him, "I can't believe it. I thought the Illusive Man was supposed to help us stop the Reapers. Now he's attacking Mars while Earth is occupied by Harbinger and his bloody fleet."

He motioned to the rocky area to the right, "Take James and flank to the right; me and Keeling will flank left. Take these bastards out, then we'll find out why the hell Cerberus is here and why they're attacking us."

Kaidan nodded and then commed James over the radio, ordering him to his position. Meanwhile, Marcus went prone and crawled over to Keeling's position, the two N7s assuming a firing line with the bulky looking soldier, lining up shots with their rifles, "I hope you're as good a shot as people say you are," Keeling muttered.

"Show me how good you can be N7," Marcus teased back, "We'll see who takes him down first."

"Be my guest," she shot back, before adding a moment later, "Sir."

Once Kaidan and James were in position, the group opened fire. Shots cut through the air and slammed into the kinetic barriers of the leader, and he shouted out in surprise, moving to raise his mattock before more shots slammed into him, downing his shield in seconds, before the gunfire ripped his armor asunder, followed by a shot to the head blowing his brains out onto the ground as his body body slumped to the ground dead, the troopers around him dispersing to defense positions, gunning down the marines on their knees before doing so. Marcus shouted in anger at the action.  _Bloody bastards._

A carnage shot shot out from behind one of the rocks, which impacted a retreating trooper, opening a large hole in his chest and throwing him off a ledge and fifty feet to his death. The shot was followed by a maelstrom of light machine gun fire, which tore into two more soldiers. Kaidan quickly appeared, a burst of biotic fire flying out from the man's palm, followed by the impact enveloping its victim in purple tangles of light, the soldier screaming as he fell backwards as the matter tore him apart at the atomic level.

Reaching into her bandolier, Keeling unhooked two frag grenades and tossed them over to the enemy ahead, before she got up from her prone position and pushed forward in a crouch, her Valkyrie barking shot after shot after shot at her enemies as the two grenades detonated, shrapnel blowing in all directions, killing four more troopers. As she moved through the smoke, her shields flashed, the enemy managing to consolidate their firepower enough to fire at her, but it was too late by that point.

He got into position to bolster her, summoning his biotics and unleashing assault after assault at the enemy and keeping them suppressed as his body glowed with liquid fire, palms shooting forward with each biotic strike. The battle quickly went south for Cerberus, and they watched as the enemy retreated, only to be gunned down. When the smoke cleared, the entire Cerberus squad lay dead alongside the marines they executed, and Marcus' team moved into the clearing, reloading their weapons and slamming in fresh thermal clips.

"Damn it," Keeling cursed as she moved over to one of the trooper's dead bodies, rolling it over with a boot, red eye visors looking up at them with blank expressions, "I heard the rumors, but I didn't think it was true. Cerberus has militarized itself."

Marcus eyed her with a keen expression, letting his biotics die off until they were but a dim glow, "What do you mean? What rumors?"

She motioned a head at the dead body before her, poking it with an armoured boot, "Rumors that these bastards had built up their military armada. Turns out they were true. Their troops seem to have upgraded, and now they have an entire navy. A proper navy. I don't know what happened along the road, but Cerberus has upgraded, and its been causing hell. They seem to have stepped up their operations all over the galaxy now too," she motioned her rifle at the dead corpse, "They got names for these assholes too. These ones are assault troopers," she then motioned with her rifle to the dead leader, "That's a centurion."

He shook his head, "I can't believe the Illusive Man would have troops here. He's always been about protecting humanity, and defeating the Reapers. Now he seems to be doing the exact opposite of both."

James growled as he moved over to one of the assault troopers on the ground nearby, the solider stirring, and fired a burst into his back, "I don't care what he used to stand for; this is wrong. If he's with the Reapers, he needs to be put down. Him, and Cerberus."

"Not with the Reapers, I don't think," Kaidan stated, looking at Marcus, "But of a different mindset."

Marcus met Kaidan's look, and knew what he meant instantly.  _The Illusive Man never agreed with how I dealt with the Reapers. But he believed we should control the Reapers, not destroy them. So why has he militarized? Nothing about this makes any sense._ Before he could say anything, Kaidan shook his head, took a step forward, and eyed the facility towering over them, speaking with confusion, "Why would Cerberus even attack this place in an assault? The security here is top of its day; some of the code was even designed by salarians in the STG and the SIA, how could they hope to penetrate this place with anything less than a battalion? But by the looks of it here, these three vehicles could fit no bigger than a company. They must have had help from the inside."

The captain agreed, motioning to the main entrance, which lay wide open, "Then let's go see just what happened. Keep your fingers on your triggers; this isn't a search and rescue op. We're here to find the Prothean Library, extract the information required, and then bug out. The Reapers will be here soon, and we don't want to be here when they turn up."

Moving forward, everyone else simply fell in line.

No arguments were provided. The game had suddenly changed, and two enemies presented themselves.

A long war indeed.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1250 hours._

_Main Entrance Cargo Elevator, Systems Alliance Research Facility, Mars Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

They had encountered another squad of Cerberus soldiers outside the entrance, and they had taken prepared for their arrival. They stood little chance in the face of firm, capable, resistance however, and despite their obviously enhanced speed and strength, Marcus' squad prevailed and they moved into the main entrance, using the large cargo elevator in the middle to elevate into the storage bay.

During the slow ascent, Marcus had simply tried to comprehend why Cerberus would suddenly turn against them on such a scale like this. Before, it was just him trying to kill Shepard, but now he seemed to be targetting the Alliance as a whole. And just what could be so important that they'd attack the Archives? There could only be one answer.

They were here for the same thing they were. The Prothean Library, and the possible 'super weapon' hidden inside.

Kaidan had stood in an uneasy pose, and Keeling seemed agitated in hers, but firm. James seemed way too eager to kill something, once again reminding him of a more heavily-built Jenkins. Marcus himself simply stood there, looking up as the storage compartment slowly revealed itself.

It was large, but simple in design. Crates were piled as high as the ceiling in some areas, and a long balcony ran along the walls, with two blast doors on each level; small elevators allowed access to these balconies, and a forklift sat to one side. Vents covered the ceiling, and the lighting was bright enough to see everything inside. But it was quiet. Too quiet. Not a single Cerberus trooper in the area.

They slowly moved forward, weapons aimed forward, and ears perked for any sound. For a second they heard nothing, but then they heard banging, like the sound of someone banging against metal, and as he followed the sound, he saw it was coming from the vents, and saw dents popping up as someone moved along it. There was no way Cerberus troopers would be crawling through it, so... _Someone is trying to escape._

He motioned to the vent, noticing that Keeling had already noticed and was moving forward, but stopped as soon as gunshots were heard in the vent, followed the ping of a bullet, and more shuffling in the vents.  _Someone being pursued..._ Another shot fired, piercing the vent and wedging into a wall, followed by more gunshots. But inbetween shots, he swore he heard the sound of biotics being unleashed.  _Cerberus biotic, or the escapee is a biotic?_

He soon got his answer as all movement seemed to just stop, followed by the vent seeming to just spotaneously combust, blowing pieces of metal all over the place. His squad dove into cover, including himself as he slid behind a crate, picking up the rifle he had dropped in the process as they dodged fragments of metal. He turned the corner to see a blue aura glowing through the smoke, but he couldn't see who had formed it. What he did hear was the person using the field landing lightly on the ground, followed by a choked cry; one he recognized as the synthesized, robotic voice of a Cerberus soldier.  _Sounds like they're kicking ass without us._ He smiled at that.

More gunshots were heard, but they were followed by more choked cries of the soldiers. Finally, the smoke cleared, revealing the person wrapped in biotic fire, carnifex pistol in her grip. She wore a milky white armoured labcoat that ended in a skirt around her knees, and he immediately recognized the tentacles on the back of her head and sapphire skin as that of an asari. And when said person turned around, and her eyes met his, he felt his jaw drop in shock.  _No, not here..._

James rushed forward, aiming his rifle at the asari's head as she lowered her weapon, and the biotic aura wrapping her body faded to nothing, "Weapon and on the ground, now! Hands where we can-"

Marcus was at James' side in a heartbeat, hand gripping his Revenant and eying the man, "Lower your weapon Lieutenant," he looked back at her, removing his helmet and smiling as he did, "She's a friend."

He frowned, but lowered his weapon anyway, merely watching as the asari moved forward, a smile gracing her warm, supple lips, holstering her carnifex. He smiled back, shaking his head as he holstered his rifle and pinned his helmet under one arm, the rest of his squad securing the room, "Liara T'Soni; a pleasant surprise."

The asari's smile grew even further as she stepped over the bodies of the four dead soldiers she had killed, and they only stopped moving when they stood half a meter from each other, "Shepard, it is good to see you again," she greeted, sighing with relief, "Although, I think we all wish it was under better circumstances."

"As do I Liara," he grunted, shaking his head, "I'm sure you've heard the reports."

She nodded grimly, "We did. Our comms may be down, but we still saw the news feeds when Cerberus tried to win over some sympathsizers. I'm so sorry, Shepard. Losing Earth, it must be..."

Kaidan was with them in a heartbeat, "We haven't lost Earth yet. We'll save it, in due time."

"'In due time' may well be a very long time," she turned and motioned to the dead corpses of the dead Cerberus soldiers, "Especially with Cerberus now playing against us. A betrayal I, honestly, did not see coming. I knew they wanted us dead, but to actively attack an Alliance facility? Seems beyond them."

Marcus shook his head at the mention of the terrorist organization, "At this point, it doesn't matter. The Reapers are our main concern, the Illusive Man second. I'll put him down if I have to, but at the moment, we have bigger problems. But what are you doing here? Last we meet, you were the Shadow Broker and things were fine. Where's Feron? Why are you even here?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples as she moved over to a observation window giving a few of the base's exterior outside, along with more of Mars' terrain and the sandstorm approaching in the distance. Marcus and Kaidan followed, with James and Keeling also doing so, but with weapons covering left, right and center.

"We were attacked Shepard. Cerberus find us. Sent a light cruiser to Hagalaz to destroy my ship," she informed him, leaning against the window with one arm, her eyes glazing along the plains, "They got what they wanted, but not quite in the way they expected. Feron and myself managed to escape, along with the majority of my personnel, before I then set my base on a collision course with their cruiser. Last I saw was both of them floating in debris. Then I came here, because I knew that if there was going to be any information on the Reapers, it would be in the Archives. Fabricating the false ID for a consultant from the Asari Republics was easy enough, and I got in. Feron is in command of my empire while I'm gone, and he's currently in the Terminus Systems; somewhere. He likes to remain hidden. So here I am; pursued by Cerberus. They seem intent on killing me."

Marcus grinned, "Can't imagine why," he shook his head, but his grin quickly vanished, his face becoming all seriousness when he spoke again, "I just wish we'd know what's going on. Out in the galaxy, I mean. I hate being blind. All I heard was that the Hegemony fell, and now Earth is overrun. I need to know how the rest of the galaxy is faring. Considering the Reapers seem to have started in the Attican Traverse and are sweeping west, I'd say they'll be hitting the turians, and possibly the salarians, next, which means I need to find Garrus and Mordin, and warn them."

Liara nodded, "I understand. If I had contact with my network I would tell you, but Cerberus has made that very difficult," she sighed, turning to face him as she pushed herself off the window, leaning on one hip as she crossed her arms, "But what are you doing here? I can't believe we just happen to stumble upon each other by coincidence."

He shook his head, "Hackett sent us here to find something. Apparently they recently dug alittle further and found a Prothean Library of some sort. A Library that apparently contains information regarding the Reapers and a super weapon. Can I hopefully assume those two terms are related?"

She smirked, a smug one if he knew her well enough, "They certainly are. And you're lucky I'm here. I was there when they dug it up, and I was the one who gathered that information. And I can tell you that what we found was groundbreaking. It provided irrefutable proof that the Reapers existed, but of course that's already a moot point now."

James exclaimed behind them in relief, "Hallelujah! Some answers...finally."

Liara nodded to him, before turning back to Marcus, her brow inquisitive, "Yes, we discovered plans for a device. One that was massive in both size and scope, and almost the size of a fully-fledged space station, and the size of the Halcyon-Class Prototype I lived on. Its only referred to as a super weapon, and its designated as being prothean in origin. And what's more interesting, is that they referred to it as a Reaper 'killer.' We can only assume its a way to destroy the Reapers."

Too excited by this news to bother questioning the logic behind it, he spoke fast, and hurriedly, "Here? On Mars? Where is it?"

She exhaled, shaking her head, "Its in the Archives. Its only data, Shepard. Schematics. We didn't dig up the actual weapon."

He cursed as he turned to look outside the window, watching the lone structure of the dig site in the distance.  _Nothing is ever simple._

He turned to Liara with a queer look on his face, "But just how did the Alliance not know about this? We've known about the Archives for decades. And if this 'super weapon' can destroy the Reapers, and its prothean built, why didn't they use it? Why didn't they fire it to destroy them? Why are they extinct, and the Reapers are still alive? That's senseless."

She nodded, motioning to the dig site structure with a wave of her hand, "Process of elimination, mixed with a little desperation is how they found it. After you destroyed the Alpha Relay and you were incarcerated, I knew I had to do something. That's why I came here. To find a way to stop the Reapers, and now that way is blocked by an army of Cerberus soldiers wanting to also gain access to it. As for the Protheans not using it..." she shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe the Archives will yield more information when we reach it. I had been datamining it when Cerberus attacked, and cut all power. I had to double back here to find out what was going on, but when I did, Cerberus closed in and sealed all access. We need to get to the dig site before they extract it."

He shook his head, "This sounds too good to be true. A weapon that can wipe out the Reapers with a press of a button? A weapon that can end a horde of unstoppable sentient starships and their equally large hordes of indoctrinated, cybernetically twisted minions of varying appearence? Seems like one giant deus ex machina," he sighed, rubbing his sore eyes, "But I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this weapon really does exist, and can be built to scale and tested, it could be our answer to this threat. We need it. The whole galaxy needs it. It maybe our only hope."

"But why does Cerberus want this weapon?" Kaidan asked in confusion, "Last I checked, he wanted to  _control_ the Reapers. Dominate them. Why would he try to apprehend blueprints to a weapon that destroys them?"

Keeling piped up, seeming to connect the dots, "Why does a nation attack another nation? To remove a threat."

Marcus saw the wisdom in her words.  _He doesn't want the plans so he can use them to destroy his target,_ he pieced together,  _he simply wants to obtain them before anyone else can and destroy them, removing a threat to his plans._ "Excellent work, Keeling. We need to reach that dig site before Cerberus does. I am not about to let the Illusive Man destroy our only hope of defeating this enemy," he took the helmet under his arm and put it back on, locking his features away with a hiss before bringing his piranha shotgun to bear, "How do we reach the dig site?"

She nodded, bringing up her omni-tool and sending coordinates to all of theirs, "I've just given you schematics of the facility. There's a skytram at the security station that will take us across to the dig. We'll need to move quickly however; no doubt Cerberus is already there. One more thing you should know-"

Her speech was interrupted by the sound of a fire torch wizzing to life and burning through metal, and as all five of them turned, they saw a spark of orange flame slowly coming down the side of a blast door on the upper floor, and they all knew who had arrived. He turned to Liara, an apologetic look in his eye.

"It'll have to wait Liara. We've got company," he turned to Keeling and Kaidan, motioning to crates below the balcony, "Take positions. Liara, with me. James-"

"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed, his expression fierce, "Time to kick some serious Cerberus ass."

"Not today James," he growled, annoyed at being interrupted as he moved back to the elevator they had come through, and he James surprised look as he turned to face the captain. He rushed over to him, his face that of irritation.

"What?"

He turned to face the marine, his helmet inches from the soldier's face, "Wake up, Lieutenant. I need you back on Cortez's shuttle and protecting him in case Cerberus spots him. That is all you will do. Understood?"

"But-"

"Don't 'but' me, Vega!  _Do you understand?_ " his voice was pure steel, unwithering and unbending. The fierceness in his tone brokered no argument, and James finally nodded meekly, turning away to step on the elevator, helmet clicking into place, before holstering his Revenant, swapping it for his M-27 Scimitar shotgun, looking like a juggernaut in his heavy armor. Marcus glared at his back for a few more seconds before accessing the elevator controls, and watching it descend. The entire time, James did not turn around, speak or even move.

He felt a five-fingered hand grip his shoulder and he turned to meet Liara's eyes, who nodded at the doorway, "We better assume positions. Cerberus are almost through the door."

He nodded, moving forward and sliding behind a crate with Liara at his side, swapping his shotgun for his N7 Hurricane SMG. Checking it was full, he turned around in time to watch the door blast open and fall to the ground, and a stream of Cerberus soldiers piled out. He checked the elevation, seeing that they had the advantage of higher ground.  _But we have three biotics._

"Liara, target a singularity in the middle of their group," he ordered, noticing a different type of soldier hefting a large, heavy looking metal shield with a slot through the top, a heavy pistol in his other hand and firing potshots at them, "I'll detonate it with a warp. Kaidan, once I've detonated, reave the leader."

With his acknowledges, he waited for Liara's attack. He saw a centurion crouched behind the balcony's glass railing, mattock heavy rifle in hand and shouting commands at his men, the assault troopers in question raining suppressive fire down on his squad. Their cybernetic voices sounded wrong; far too robotic to be human. And that shield...no normal human, no matter how strong, could lift  _that._

The singularity appeared behind the shielded soldier, and he was lifted up, losing his grip on his shield, which was also sucked in. Three other assault troopers were sucked in before they could escape too, and without hesitation, Marcus charged up his biotics, leapt out and threw his palm forward, a warp field shooting out and impacting the tear in space, causing the singularity to collapse and explode, tearing the shielded soldier and the three troopers apart. This shocked the centurion into standing, before he regained his purpose and lowered his rifle sights over a vulnerable Marcus, managing to get off two shots on his shield before Keeling took out the centurion's shields, followed by Kaidan reaving him. His screams of pain were audible for all to hear, but was quickly drowned out by the remains of the Cerberus strike team returning fire.

Falling back behind his crate, he left off a single burst of his SMG into an assault trooper's head before falling behind his cover again, and reloading. He inhaled, and exhaled. He heard Liara giggle, and he could only half-chuckle himself, shaking his head.

This was almost like old times.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1303 hours._

_Security Station, Systems Alliance Research Facility, Mars Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Well this was certainly fun.

They had been forced to fight through numerous waves of Cerberus troops, of which seemed to be enough to be a battalion as Kaidan suggested, and it hadn't been easy trying to reach the dig site tramway. The terrorist organization fought them tooth and nail every step of the way, and wherever they went, Cerberus was waiting for them with fresh troops. But they broke through all the same, the squad working like a well-oiled machine, including Keeling, and they eventually arrived at the security station.

Only to find that a ceiling turret protecting the station had been hacked by Cerberus, and had immediately opened fire on them when they entered the entrance corridor.

It took a game of hide-and-seek, along with some 'dodgeball' to finally get past the turret and into the security station, taking them out of the turret's operational rotation. Now they were inside, with an entire Cerberus squad fighting harder than ever before to hold the room and make sure they didn't cross the tramway.

Marcus was currently sneaking up behind a shield trooper, which he had learnt were called Guardians, his Piranha shotgun in hand. Crouched a meter from the oblivious trooper, firing his Talon heavy pistol at Keeling behind her cover, he took aim with his shotgun and unloaded into the guardian's side. He cried out in agony as his entire right side opened up from ribs to hips, and his arms were shredded by the widespread. The velocity sent him kereening to the left, where he fell over, his shield dropping ontop of him and the sound of a head being crushed by the shield's sheer weight could be heard, ending the guardian's pain.

Gunfire poured into his barriers as three assault troopers approached, avenger assault rifles in hand and pouring into him. Picking up the guardian's shield but utilizing his cybernetic strength, he brought it infront of him and moved forward, the enemy shots pouring off the metal shield and Marcus firing his shotgun sporadically at them with one hand.

The first shot hit a desk behind the advancing trio, but the second blasted one soldier's head asunder, and the pallet spread from that impacted his comrade in the neck, causing red blood to pour out of his neck and onto the floor as he gasped desperately for breath, dumping his weapon as both hands clasped around his neck, trying to seal off the wound. With only one trooper left to oppose him, he used the shield and wacked the soldier across the side, which effectively ripped his torso clean off his body, shearing it in half. Red blood spurted everywhere, and Marcus reduced the choking soldier's head to a red mist, before moving on to finish the centurion, who had retreated to the back of the room.

Only to find Kaidan already there, omni-blade deep in the centurion's helmet. Kaidan looked up and nodded to him, ripping the blade out and watching it evaporate, followed by a second nod before he went over and joined Keeling and Liara at the security control console. Marcus quickly did the same, but not before reloading his shotgun.

Liara was busy typing at said console, blue hands dancing over the keyboard as she watched the screen before her, which appeared to be security camera footage of the tram below, "There we go. Wait..." a loud beep followed her attempts to override the tram controls, and she cursed as she hit the terminal, "Damn it! I'm completely locked out. I can't override the trams from here. She's smarter than I expected. And quick."

He frowned at her, "Who is?"

She growled, turning to face him, "The traitor. Or the inside agent, I should say. Cerberus' sleeper. She was here before I was, actually, and seemed to have been here a long while. She was one of the researcher; brunette, very attractive. She went by the name Doctor Eva Core. I was suspicious of her from the get go, so I did some research. Turned out she died on Palaven shortly after the First Contact War. And you won't guess who she was friends with."

His confusion only got deeper, "Who?"

"Jack Harper," she stated, but still seeing the confusion, continued, "Who would later write the Cerberus manifesto, and become known as the Illusive Man."

His eyes widened in surprise, "So you think this Eva works for Cerberus now? You think she allowed Cerberus to get in?"

"Yes. Her attack was brutal and efficient, and so was her infiltration. I don't know how she can be alive, as the reports say otherwise, but Cerberus has their ways," she shook her head, "Before we knew what was going on, she had unsealed every airlock in half of the facility. She depressurized that entire area, and removed all oxygen from the air. While half of the facility suffocated from lack of oxygen, the other half was quickly overwhelmed by a large Cerberus force deploying via multiple shuttles. Last I saw of her, she seemed to be leading a Cerberus platoon towards the dig site. We haven't encountered her on the way here, so she must be still there."

With a quick, he motioned to the tram below, "Is there anyway we can activate the tram without the override?"

"How about this?" Keeling offered, and all turned towards her.

She stood there, leaning on one hip and rifle in her grip, "Why don't we just do it the good old fashioned way? We confiscate one of these dead scumbags' radios, and then pretend to be the team reporting in. We'll request reinforcements, and they'll send them over the tram. We kill the reinforcements and commandeer the tram they bring over."

Kaidan grinned, turning to face Marcus, "Glad I brought her along?"

He smirked back, "Certainly am," he turned to Keeling, motioning to the dead centurion, "Confiscate his radio. I need to talk to Liara."

Keeling simply nodded, letting her rifle come to rest on her back as she calmly made her way over to the dead centurion, Kaidan crossing his arms as he stayed in the background. He moved to Liara, who seemed to be watching something. As he looked over her shoulder, he saw she was watching a recording of security footage from not too long ago. He saw the brunette she spoke; and she really was extremely attractive. Her hair was slender and curled infront of her face, her ears were well shaped, her eyes seemed to sparkle with radiance, and her hips were generous to the eye, and her bosom quite large; just as large as Miranda's, actually. She approached a centurion in the tram bay, an entire platoon of assault troopers, guardians and one single type of soldier he didn't recognize reading something of his omni-tool and working at the door. He saw the backpack on his pack, and seeing the omni-tool and the door he was hacking, knew who it was.  _A combat engineer._

Eva spoke, her voice annoyed, "Damn it, that asari should be dead already. Why haven't you found her?"

The centurion responded, voice just as annoyed, "I have men searching the entire facility. We'll find the bitch, and we'll kill her. Simple as that."

"I'm not seeing a blue, tentacle-headed corpse," she growled in response, turning to yell at the engineer, "Have you got the damn trams working?"

The engineer shouted back with the same robotic voice all of them seemed to have, "Affirmative. We've got Alliance marines waiting on the other side. A whole squad."

She snorted, "Makes no matter; we'll kill them. Once we're across, give me direct override of the trams. Noone comes across.  _Noone._ I don't care if its the Illusive Man himself, noone is getting across that tramway, you got me?"

"Yes ma'am," the centurion responded.

She looked up, and shook her head, raising a Tempest SMG directly at the camera, "Didn't I tell you I wanted no cameras? Idiot," she fired, and the feed immediately cut to static, and both of them were silent.

"Well if she's ordered them not to let us across, this plan is suddenly moot now, isn't it?" Kaidan asked.

"No," Marcus stated, "She said noone was to come across to their side. We'll be bringing them over here. These troopers seem too dumb to know the difference, so it should work as long-"

"Sir," Keeling piped up, obvious disgust and shock in her tone, "You might want to have a look at this."

All of them turned to Keeling, who had stood up and backed away from the centurion, his helmet lay on the ground beside where Keeling had taken it off and placed it. Marcus walked over and his eyes immediately fell on the soldier's face, eyes widening in horror.

What he saw wasn't human.

It was a bloody husk. A Reaper husk.

 _What the fuck has the Illusive Man done?_ He crouched, looking over the man's features. His eyes were no longer present, replaced by what looked to be cybernetic optical sensors, and he had no lips; his mouth permanently wide open and showing the radio filter that had been fused into his mouth. His skin was now the pure blue/black of a husk, and all his hair had fallen out and he was now completely bald. This...thing wasn't even remotely human.

"The Illusive Man was always fucked up," Marcus growled, ripping his eyes away from the abomination, "But this is different. This is beyond fucked up. He's turning his own troops into bloody  _monsters._ "

"What kind of leader does this to his own people and claims to stand for humanity?" Kaidan added sickingly, "This is beyond wrong. This is sick."

"Keeling," Marcus spoke lowly and steadily, steel in his voice as he forced himself to look on the ex-human, "Retrieve the radio from his helmet, and give it to me. Then put his helmet back on. I can't stand to look at his face one minute longer."

Liara looked on solemnly as Keeling did as ordered without flinching, reaching around and pulling the man's radio out, which also seemed to be wired into his brain, and as she yanked and pulled it away, flesh and blood stuck to the wiring and came out with it. Even Keeling seemed on the verge of wretching before she tossed it to Marcus, who caught it up with his hand and put the radio to his mouth, watching it tap against his helmet, "Copy over, this is...," he checked the radio label before putting it back to his vocalizer, "Delta squad, how copy?"

The voice was gruff, but the same robotic tone he recognized from every other soldier; only now he knew where the real voice came from. He felt sick.  _Keep it together, soldier._ Clearing his thoughts, he became steel once more, hearing the soldier speak, "About damn time. We expected an update ten minutes ago," hesitation, before the soldier spoke again, "Never mind, what's your status?"

"We need immediate reinforcements! Shepard's team is here!" Marcus imitated, and he saw Kaidan shake his head in amusement, "Requesting backup, how copy?"

"Solid copy," the soldier replied, "Echo squad will ride over and provide support. Just make sure you keep Shepard alive. The Illusive Man will have something special planned for him."

 _Oh, I bet he does. But he ain't turning me into a monster._ Again, thoughts of that abomination popped up.  _Jack Harper, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will_ _ **end**_ _you. You used to stand for something, and I don't know what happened along the road to fuck it all up, but something did, and now you're going to pay for it. But the Reapers must come first._ "Copy that; we'll kill the rest of his squad and take Shepard hostage. We'll hold them until Echo gets here. Come in guns blazing."

The comms disconnected before anything else could be said, and Marcus tossed it aside, drawing his weapon, "Okay, let's get down there and be ready to take them by surprise."

"Did they buy it?" Kaidan asked.

"Hook, line and sinker," Marcus replied, grinning, "Let's just be ready for them."

With Liara by his side, he made his way down the right side to stand on the right side of the long, tram door, while Kaidan and Keeling assumed positions on the other side. They all went into crouch, Liara with her SMG at the ready, and everyone else with primed assault rifles aimed and fingers on their triggers. The biotics glowed with dark energy, and Keeling got ready to prime a grenade and throw it.

It wasn't long before the screech of a tram moving towards them could be heard. They stiffened upon hearing it, their bodies knowing that combat would soon be upon them once more and Marcus felt his omni-shield spring to life in his hand.

The tram finally arrived, and the large, long blast door slid open, revealing the two-way tramway space. The left side was empty, but the right side was now occupied as the tram arrived, a small door opening and allowing the troops to spill out. A guardian lead the charge, shield raised in front of him, followed by a centurion, a combat engineer, and numerous assault troopers. There was 12 of them overall; his team could easily handle them.

Liara launched a warp field directly into the guardian's exposed flank, sending him flying into Kaidan and Keeling's position, where Keeling finished the trooper off with an omni-blade stab into his helmet. Marcus charged forward, his omni-shield deflecting the shots of the retaliating assault troopers and he slammed into the combat engineer, the golden visored soldier having been in the middle of typing into his omni-tool when he was hit.

Charging a biotic fist, Marcus slammed it into his visor, shattering it on impact and stunning the engineer. Charging forth again, he swept the soldier's legs out from under him, causing him to fall forwards and allowing Marcus to raise his weapon to the back of his head, bypass the engineer's kinetic barriers, and fire, splattering his brain matter on the floor.

His kinetic barrier crackled and popped, but he quickly rose his omni-shield again, protecting himself from the hail of gunfire. He watched one trooper's head explode, followed by Liara using her biotics to pick up one of them and throw them off the edge, screaming to their death. Kaidan and Keeling appeared, their fire cutting down numerous assault troopers before they finally managed to retreat and assume fire, the Cerberus attackers attempting a defensive movement.

With Keeling engaging the centurion in hand-to-hand, Marcus and Kaidan moved forward, using their assault rifles to keep the troopers pinned. When they finally arrived, they both leapt over the railing and into the tram, taking the enemy soldiers by surprise. By the time they turned to assess the threat, they were cut down. One assault trooper aimed a weapon whip at Kaidan's face, but the marine easily ducked under it, ramming his omni-blade into his armoured chest and twisting, before pulling out and letting him slide to the floor.

Liara arrived, and they all turned to watch just as the centurion managed to hook Keeling across the face, stunning her temporarily. She kicked him in the chest, but the centurion seemed barely fazed by it, and kicked back. Keeling blocked it, sidestepping backwards and out of the leader's reach. But in a flash, like the speed of lightning, the centurion moved forward and grabbed her shoulders, slamming his head forward and into hers.

If not for her helmet, her skull would have cracked with the impact. She flew backwards and into a wall, the N7 simply not fast enough to keep up with the centurion's superior cybernetics. The centurion advanced on her just as Liara moved to raise her weapon, only to stop as a gunshot was heard; the sound of a Talon heavy pistol being fired. A second shot echoed through the room, and his head exploded, followed by his body falling backwards and onto the ground, revealing the form of Keeling holding the smoking barrel of a Talon pistol, before she dropped the weapon and stood to her feet, approaching them.

"You okay, Keeling?" Marcus asked as she stepped inside, Kaidan activating the tram as soon as they were inside. Liara closed the gate, and they all made sure their helmets were sealed as the depressurization door opened and the one behind them closed, revealing, once again, the oxygenless plains of the red planet, "That centurion gave you one hell of a beating."

"Nothing I didn't handle, sir," she replied, unhooking her Hurricane SMG and letting it small into her grip, "I'll walk it off. Bastard was damn fast; never seen a man move that fast, especially in heavy armor."

"Cerberus has given their troops upgrades. Did you see the way that combat engineer typed into his omni-tool?" Kaidan asked, shaking his head, "Even Tali could not type that fast; only Legion could outmatch that," he eyed Marcus, "Maybe the Illusive Man has given them cybernetic implants, like he did you."

Marcus shrugged, "Yeah, maybe. And if that's true, that just makes Cerberus a greater enemy than we thought. But right now we must focus on getting to that library. Liara?"

The asari was at his side in an instant, pointing ahead, "The dig site is just behind that door. I'll handle the security; but once inside, the Library will be inside the site. We'll download the information, kill Eva if we have to, and leave. But we need that intel. It holds our salvation, Shepard," she seemed desperate, and he understood how she felt.

_Failure is not an option. I will not allow Cerberus to get away with that library._

"They seem to be unaware of our presence, Shepard," Kaidan pointed out, taking cover behind the opaque railing, "Might take them by surprise."

Marcus nodded to him, motioning Keeling and Liara to crouch behind the railing, whilst Marcus did the same, joining Kaidan. He pulled out his Hurricane SMG, and turned back to the major, slamming in a fresh thermal clip, "I just hope we're not too late to the party."

Kaidan nodded back, pulsing with biotics as he readied his N7 Paladin pistol, "So do I."

The tram travelled in relative silence, but as they looked outside, they could easily see that the sandstorm was almost upon them; Mars' landscape was slowly transforming as the wall of sand and electricity pummelled a path of destruction and moved towards the lone alliance facility. As he admired the area, he heard the airlock doors opening, and knew they were here.

Passing through, the door closed again and they unsealed their helmets, allowing them to breathe again. It wasn't long before they reached the second door, and it slid open, revealing the space behind it. He could hear footsteps, obviously those of Cerberus soldiers, as they walked around, but all movement seemed to cease as the tram stopped moving. They must have noticed how empty it was.

"What, where's Echo Squad?" one soldier demanded, "Someone get on that tram and-"

Kaidan leapt up first, his Paladin's sights landing on the nearest target and coughing out hot death. Marcus quickly joined his assault, SMG complimenting Keeling's, of the same type, as they ripped into four assault troopers on the right. Liara brought a biotic barrier to life infront of them, and they mowed into the Cerberus troopers, who were initially too shocked to return fire, but when they did, they were organized.

The assault troopers were used as cannon fodder as the centurion used his mattock to shatter the window of the security console before leaping into the room, taking cover behind the main console. Two doors on either side of the room, which sat in the middle, shot open, and on both sides was a guardian advancing into the room, a full compliment of assault troopers behind them. Two combat engineers appeared, and took off their backpacks and placing them on the ground.

Fearing they were explosives, Marcus charged up and let a biotic warp let fly, aiming it at the box. Upon impact, it seemed to explode in the engineer's face, the shrapnel shredding his body into bloody ribbons, and sending his mutilated corpse flying into a wall, where it plopped down on the ground. He did the same with the second engineer, and the same result presented itself.

Liara dropped her barrier and charged forward, sending a biotic shockwave cascading into the nearest guardian. The velocity and force sent the shield flying from his grip, allowing Liara to empty her Tempest SMG into his back. Before the troopers around her could completely deplete her shields, she raised a biotic barrier around herself, before letting it implode, the sheer magnitude of it sending everyone around her flying.

Keeling primed another grenade and tossed it into the security room, before charging forward, SMG roaring. Kaidan and Marcus followed, both of them laying fire down with their own weapons; their shields were depleted by the time they reached the security junction, their barriers were depleted and their armor potmarked with bullet holes, but luckily most of them were grazings and hadn't drawn blood. The bodies of numerous Cerberus soldiers lay around them, and they watched as Keeling strafed next to the guardian and rammed her SMG into the slot they used for sight, before pulling the trigger, impacting the guardian between the eyes and killing him instantly, cadaver collapsing to the ground, ontop of his shield.

By the time they managed to clean up, the entire room was a battlefield. Assault troopers, a centurion, two combat engineers and two guardians; all of them dead, red blood running through the steel floor. The victory was short and to the point though, and Marcus quickly found himself reloading, along with his squad, and leading Liara, Kaidan and Keeling forward, through one of the doors and into a hall that ended with a large steel door; its haptic interface a dull red.

He lowered his weapon, checking noone was behind them, "Area's clear. This the dig site you were talking about, Liara?"

She nodded, and moved over to the console next to the door, typing into irregularly. A grin split her lips, "It seems this Doctor Core forgot one important thing," she tapped a button, and the haptic interface turned green, before winking out of existence, the door sliding open, "I can hack just as well as she can."

Swapping his SMG for his assault rifle, he moved inside, weapon raised, and his squad covering his rear. As they moved inside, Marcus took the time to examine the massive complex; and massive it was.

The ceiling was high above them, and the floor seemed to be miles below them, looking to be built around a giant hole in the ground; so deep that the darkness concealed its depth. It was circular in shape, with a deactivated drill left unused down below but attached. Four massive support struts kept the place from caving in, and two ring like balconies made up the floor of the area, his team arriving on the outer ring. Each ring had numerous computer consoles, and the inner ring just happened to contain what they were here for. And it too, was also huge.

It looked just like the prothean beacons he had encountered first on Eden Prime, and on Virmire. A large rectangular prism like structure with numerous lines weaved into its grey, smooth surface. This one also hummed with dormant power, and was much larger than its beacon predecessors, and emitted the same green color; a color that seemed to fill the entire room with its light, causing it to have an eerily alien like atmosphere.

Moving around, his team moved towards the center ring before he stopped, turning to Kaidan and Keeling, "You two, secure the outer ring. Make sure Cerberus doesn't get the jump on us, and if you see Eva, do not let her escape. She may have the data, and if she does, we can't risk letting her escape with it. This is too important to let the Illusive Man destroy it with his insanity."

They nodded, Kaidan telling moving off to sweep the right, while Keeling watched the entrance, in a crouch, hidden beside the door and her weapon at the ready. With eyes on their backs, Marcus and Liara approached the main control console infront of the Library, which was encased in a large cylinder like glass tube, and Liara began typing into it, a determined look on her face. Marcus took note of the quantum entanglement communicator pad sitting next to it, and could only assume it was a new addition, considering the technology's relatively new status. He crossed his arms, weapon holstered as he took off his helmet, breathing in air.

Liara continued to type into the console as he waited, "Should have this information downloaded soon. If I can just-"

"Shepard," a familiar, eerily calm, and irritating cool voice, said behind them, and Marcus felt his brow furrow in rage as both of them turned to face the man who was now projected via hologram on the QEC device, the man seeming to be standing, his signature glass of whiskey in hand, and half-topped. His synthetic eyes glowed, and his brown hair was combed as it usually was, the man wearing a basic suit. He didn't seem to be sitting for once either...or smoking.

Marcus growled as he responded, meeting the man's eyes with a cold expression. Liara drew her pistol on the hologram, but noting the projection, quickly holstered it, realizing the vainness of her gesture. Marcus spoke, voice frost, "Illusive Man," he eyed the facility, "I was wondering when you'd make your big opening."

The man waved a dismissive hand, taking a sip of his glass before handing it to someone out of view, the man's form projected in bright blue pixels, "You don't know the half of it. The protheans left us a wealth of information. The most in the galaxy. We've had the Archives for decades," he eyed the library behind them with awe, something that was hard to find in the Illusive Man, "And we've squandered it. I'm merely correcting that mistake."

 _I'm not in the mood for his usual bullshit._ Marcus ignored his words, stepping forward, angry, "I don't fucking care what we've squandered. Get to the point. What do you want?"

The man barely acknowledged Marcus, just continuing to look at the artefact. But he did speak, and it held a smug undertone, while also keeping the same calm aura he seemed to inheritantly hold, "What I've always wanted."

Marcus turned to look at the library himself, before turning back to look at the Illusive Man who had now turned to look at Marcus, eyes blank of any form of emotion, "The data in these Archives holds the key to solving the Reaper threat."

He snorted, turning back to Liara to signal her to keep working while he talked to this bastard. Turning back as the asari continued to work, he moved forward, waving a finger in TIM's face, "I've seen your... _solution._ The despicable things you've done to your own bloody men. You've turned them into monsters. Worse, you've turned them into  _husks._ You might as well hand yourself to the Reapers on a silver platter."

The Illusive Man shook his head, sighing heavily, "Hardly. They're being improved," he waved his own hand in the captain's face, unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind Marcus' words, "That's what seperates me...from you, Shepard. Where you see a means to destroy, I see a means to control. To dominate the Reapers. To harness their power, and use it to advance humanity. Imagine how powerful humanity would be...if we controlled them. The galaxy would bow to us; like they should rightly have done thirty years ago."

Marcus looked at him with disgust, unable to believe the words pouring from the man's mouth.  _He's deluded. This...is too much. The Illusive Man could not possibly be this stupid to think that the Reapers can simply be controlled like that._

He laughed, shaking his head as he eyed the Illusive Man with a humorless smile, "You're an idiot, Illusive Man. You cannot seriously believe you can control the Reapers. They are simply too powerful. The only way to win this war is to control them and with the weapon hidden in these databanks," he pointed at Liara and the console, "We can make that reality. We can stop this threat, once and for all. We can break the cycle of extinction."

The Illusive Man shook his head, as if scolding a bad child, "Your vision is pathetically limited," with an exasperated sigh, he moved to his chair, picking up a cigarette and placing it in his mouth, turning back to Marcus as he lit it with a lighter and put the lighter away, taking the cigarette away from his mouth as he blew a puff of pixelated smoke, "You were a tool. An agent...with a singular purpose. And despite our differences, you were unbelievably successful. You destroyed the Collectors, and defeated a Human-Reaper, that is no small feat. And defeating the Shadow Broker was quite an impressive achievement. But that is all you were brought back to do. I invested billions of credits in you so you could destroy our enemy, that is all. I never intended for you to be a long term investment, and you've long since overstayed your welcome. Like the rest of the relics in this place, your time is over."

Marcus shook his head, eying the man, "I truly believed you were a person, Illusive Man. Sure, you and your organization have done horrific things in the past, and you may have tried to get me killed numerous times on the Collector campaign, but you provided me with a ship, a crew, an a squad, and weapons. You gave me the tools I needed to defeat our enemy, and I still believe we can destroy the Reapers. Join us. With the amount of resources Cerberus has, we can use it to create this weapon extremely fast. With Cerberus, the Alliance and the rest of the galaxy united, we can stop this threat. Join us, and we can defeat this enemy together."

The Illusive Man seemed to ponder this, before shaking his head with a single ghost of a smile...and then it was, his expression calm again, "You would do better than most, Shepard, and I admire your tenacity, but I don't want the Reapers destroyed. That is simply the way of it. You don't see it my way Shepard, and that's a pity, but I will not allow you to stop my ultimate goal. Humanity will control the Reapers, one way or another."

 _Its clear he isn't interested. So be it._ With a scoff, he shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear that," his pleading expression vanished, and his face became furious, "If that's going to be your stance, then enough of this talk. Liara," he turned to the asari, ignoring the Illusive Man's still present form, "Have you got the data?"

"Working on it," Liara informed him, "The Alliance put alot of encryption on this, but I'm on the last firewall."

TIM was desperate to make himself heard, but his voice came off as mildly irritated, "Don't get in my way, Shepard. I won't warn you again."

He turned to the Illusive Man, a snarl in his voice, "Oh, go fuck yourself. I'm done with you."

"Shepard!" Liara exclaimed in shock, slamming her hands against the console in frustration.

Alarm crossed his features, and he was moving forward in an instant and leaning over her, looking down on the terminal, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The schematics! The data! Its not here! The whole system's been erased! Wait," she typed a few commands into it and sighed in relief, "No, someone's wiped the system and has moved the data into a secure folder, and is downloading it remotely. I'm going to trace it. But we have to be quick! If they complete the download, we'll lose the data!"

Marcus, in anger, snapped around, prepared to meet the Illusive Man's eyes. When he did turn around, there was nothing, the QEC's hum dumming down to silence and his form blinking out of existence. He could imagine the smug thoughts going through the bastard's head. He almost panicked.  _No! I cannot lose this data! It is our only hope of-_

"Got it!" Liara exclaimed, turning to him, "The download...the point of origin is literally within this room," she pointed at a small, walled hub behind one of the support struts closest to the entrance, "Coming from that terminal."

He turned to her, pulling his helmet into place with a click, "Bet you its Doctor Core."

She nodded in agreement, and he commed Kaidan, who was fast approaching them, "Kaidan, the hub you're approaching is the source of a download. Find and stop whoever is doing it before they escape with it! Kill them if you have to, just don't let them get away!"

Kaidan nodded to him in the distance, before responding verbally over the radio, "Copy that." And with that, Kaidan disappeared behind the strut, Marcus turning back to his asari friend, who was currently in the process of trying to hack into the forged folder. Just as he moved to stand at her side, he heard the sound of armor hitting the ground, and a grunt. A grunt that sounded like it came from Kaidan.

He spun on the spot, his SMG in hand in a split second and aimed upwards, along with Liara's. They watched as Kaidan lay sprawling on the ground and the lithe form of Eva Core leapt over him, coming to stand at the steps, holding what looked to be an OSD in her hand. She gave them a blank stare, omni-tool aglow. With one final glance in their direction, she turned away, her movements robotic, as he ran up to Keeling and slammed a fist into her face, sending the N7 sprawling on the ground. Wasting no time, Eva sprinted past her, and through the way they came. Marcus and Liara were in close pursuit.

"You okay, Kaidan?"

"I'm fine!" he called out as he crawled to his feet, "Don't let her get away! GO! I'll catch up! JUST GO!"

Marcus had already been sprinting at the first 'go' and only Liara stuck around to hear the rest before turning to follow the captain, who was already sprinting out the door. Liara stayed behind to aid Keeling in getting up instead, and would also catch up.

As he ran through the doorway, he watched Eva leap through the shattered glass window of the security desk and roll over the corpse of a dead guardian, before turning to see if she had been pursued. Seeing Marcus barrelling straight at her, she keyed her omni-tool and launched an incinerate at him, one which his shields blocked, and merely blinded him temporarily. When his sight cleared, she was gone.

He cursed, fearing he had lost her when he heard the sound of a door opening, and as he turned left, he saw Eva rushing through and onto the dig site's roof, obviously heading for the landing pad ontop, the winds outside having now picked up. Sealing his helmet, he continued pursuit, his cybernetic legs pushing him as far as he would go to pick up with the incredibly fast sprinter, the man holstering his SMG just to gain more speed.

Rushing outside, he felt the winds of Mars batter against him and chill him to the bone, but he ignored them and kept running. He leapt over crates and piping, keeping his eyes on Eva in fear of her disappearing from sight. She didn't turn around for one second, and just kept on going, the woman never seeming to tire.  _How bloody fast is this woman? I thought she was a doctor, not an athlete!_

They ran through a tunnel, before Eva reached the end and swerved left and up a ramp. Marcus stopped and turned to follow her, watching the Cerberus agent climb up a metal ladder to the landing pad. He heard Liara shouting at him from behind, but merely ignored as he leapt up the ramp and jumped onto the ladder, his hand clasping around Eva's foot half way up the climb.

The woman looked down in an instant, head turning at an irregular angle. Eyes widening, he watched as she reared her other foot up and then down, the swift velocity carrying it straight into his visor, cracking it with the impact and sending him falling onto his back. He could only watch as she continued to climb up, as if swatting a fly.

He heard Keeling's voice in the background as his vision blurred for a moment, "Normandy! We need extraction immediately! Cortez, do you read? Does anyone hear me? We need extraction and backup! Target is escaping with mission critical intel. Requesting assistance, over!"

Kaidan leapt over him and landed on the ladder, climbing with lightning fast ferocity. By the time Marcus finally got control of his senses and got to his feet, Liara arriving beside him, Kaidan was already up and over, and disappeared above. Marcus quickly climbed up the ladder as well, followed by Keeling, then Liara.

His head peeked over the edge as he finished his trek up the ladder, and his eyes widened in horror. A Cerberus kodiak shuttle sat hovering over the platform, Eva having leapt into it, and now turning towards a running Kaidan. Two assault troopers helped her inside while another two fired at Kaidan, who offered counterfire. He managed to take down one trooper, who fell out of the shuttle and to his death, before the hatch slammed shut and began to ascend.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Marcus cried, leaping the final steps and onto the platform, his avenger rifle out and firing, but his shots pinged harmlessly off the shuttle's hull, and were harmless. Kaidan did the same, anger contorting his face. Marcus joined his side, but as the rest of the team joined them, they could only continue to watch as it continued its ascent.

His rifle screamed at him as he continued to hold his trigger down on the empty weapon, and he dropped the weapon, sighing with defeat.  _Why can't...it ever...be simple..._ The chances of winning this war now was pathetically slim, and without-

Almost out of nowhere, they heard the growing sounds of another kodiak. Then, out of the blue like a guardian angel, Cortez's shuttle appeared, shooting towards the Cerberus shuttle at high speed...

...and it wasn't stopping.

Watching in sheer amazement, the alliance kodiak slammed into the Cerberus shuttle's side, sending it spinning as its rear engines were sheared off from the impact. The alliance shuttle itself seemed to have some of its bow cave in, but overall, it was still airborne. The same could not be said for the Cerberus vessel.

Still spinning, fires danced in its hull before being burnt out by the lack of oxygen. It spun and spun, and rapidly descended towards them. Marcus ordered them to duck, and just as they hit the deck, the shuttle slammed into the ground infront of them, the bow section completely caving in and likely pulverizing the pilot, before the shuttle came to rest, luckily not exploding. Just the crash would have killed Eva and everyone else inside. Once again flames danced and then died, unable to breathe.

For a few moments, all of them simply stood there, in awe of their savior, and the now completely totalled Cerberus kodiak, and the likely mutilated passengers.  _Well...worries of them escaping are now moot._

Liara had fallen to the ground from the impact of the shuttle hitting, and Kaidan moved over to help her up, while Keeling signalled Cortez's shuttle down, which was descending just as rapidly as it arrived. Marcus, joining Keeling as Kaidan made sure Liara was alright, watched as the shuttle didn't even hover before landing it; it just plopped down onto the ground, a loud bang heard as it hit. On the other side was now Kaidan and Liara with the Cerberus shuttle, and on this side was the hatch, himself and Keeling.

He approached to open the hatch, but watched as it opened of its own accord. He opened his mouth to berate Cortez for his crazy flying, only to stop as James emerged, the man holding his head and shaking it.

Eyes meeting, James merely shrugged, "What?"

"Where's Cortez?" Marcus asked, confused.

"In here," a voice moaned, and as they looked, they watched Cortez emerge in an EVA suit, the man clearly displeased, and showing it even more with the glares he shot James, "I'm still in one piece...remarkably."

"What was with the crazy flying?" Marcus asked him, grinning.

Cortez shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh, "Me? No, that's curtesy of Mister Vega," he waved an over dramatic hand at the bulky marine, "Crazy bastard said 'we won't get there in time. We need to move faster' and pushed me aside. Next thing I know, I'm thrown into the hatch because this is insanist decided it was a great idea to practically throw a  _forty billion credit_ piece of hardware at another shuttle!"

"Forty billion? I thought it was only thirty," James replied, but noticing the look Marcus gave him, sighed, scratching the back of his neck, "Hey, we had to react quickly or they'd get away. Getting a firing solution would have taken too long; I thought...it'd be faster just to ram 'em."

"Typical thoughts of a thick jarhead," Cortez teased.

James seemed about to retort when Marcus spoke, shaking his head, "We'll talk about your treatment of highly-expensive property later. Just consider yourself lucky we have a second shuttle."

Nodding in agreement, they moved into the shuttle, only for Marcus to remember the data, "I'll be right back. I need to grab that data," but as he said these words, he heard banging, like something kicking metal. Another bang, followed by another. The sound soon became louder when the bang have a resounding thud, and all fell silent.

Then he heard a pistol discharging multiple times.  _What?_

He ran around the shuttle to find Liara on the ground again, blood pouring from a broken nose. The asari reset it, and as she turned around, Marcus did as well. He found the source of the banging; the hatch from the destroyed shuttle had been blown off and lay a few meters away, which had been the source of the thud. And standing not far away, was Eva...or what looked like Eva.

Her skin and face had melted away, revealing herself to be, in fact, a synthetic. An AI.  _No wonder she looked so robotic._ Her hair was now a metal, chrome outfit, and her eyes were surrounded by a blue interface. Her breasts were revealed to be nothing but metal bumps, and the rest of her body was basically the same. Multiple bullet holes marred her surface where Kaidan had opened fire, but failed to kill it. But right now, Eva was standing there, likely the reason for Liara's broken nose, holding a certain someone by the face with a strong, five-fingered hand.

Kaidan simply hung there, grasping at her hand, desperately trying to wriggle free.

His SMG was unhooked in seconds, taking aim at the robot, but he couldn't get a sight on the damn thing because Kaidan was in the way. He watched as Eva tapped a comm unit on the side of her head, metal lips parting to speak, "Orders?"

He growled.  _Illusive Man, you fucking piece of shit._

The synthetic seemed to receive her orders, and what Eva did next left him powerless. He could only watch as the synthetic changed grips to the back of Kaidan's neck, before dragging him over to the shuttle, and with as much strength as synthetically possible, began ramming the front of his helmet into the crashed vessel's hull, again and again and again.

 _ **"Kaidan!"**_ He roared, beginning to fire into the thing's back.  _I lost Ashley, I am not losing you! Not again! I will not lose anymore of my friends! Not now! Not by you!_ Eventually, his attacks got Eva's notice, and she dropped Kaidan, the marine long having been knocked unconscious, and his body slumped onto the ground, head lulling to the side. Eva turned towards him and with lightning speed began sprinting towards him, with the intent of doing the same to him.

His SMG ran out of ammo just as the bitch arrived and with a quickness that took Eva by surprise, quickly dropped it and grabbed the arm she had been using to punch him around the wirst. His grip tightened, stopping her from being able to escape and he rammed his head forwards, slamming it into Eva's. Her interface faded in and out from the impact, and he heard metal crack from the impact, but he kept up his assault, rage flowing through his veins.

He kneed her in the chest just as she was working up a kick, and quickly brought another knee into her face once more. She reeled back, but rapidly recovered, turning and side-kicking him into his ribcage, and causing him to double backwards. Noticing the synthetic was now on one-leg, he ducked under her leg and swept the other one out from under her, causing her to fall to the ground in a heap.

With the synthetic downed, he unhooked her pistol and put it to her forehead, teeth gritted as he leaned in, eyes meeting her blank ones, "Tell the Illusive Man this. Fuck you."

A pistol barked, and Eva went limp, her body ceasing all movement as the pistol entered her temple, blowing out her circuitry. Wind battered against him as she simply crouched there, eyes never moving from Eva's body.  _Noone hurts my friends. Noone. I already lost Ashley, I'm not losing anyone else. I lost Pressly, Johnson. I lost them. But I'm not_ _ **losing anyone else.**_

James was at his side, and he broke from his thoughts, slapping the man on the shoulder, "Get this...thing onto the shuttle. I want EDI analyzing it as soon as possible. Make sure its dead before you take it to the...VI...core, and put it down. I don't want it waking up and having instant access to EDI's database. Now move, Lieutenant! Don't object, just bloody do it!"

James nodded without hesitation, moving to scoop up Eva's body in his arms while Marcus got up and jogged over to Kaidan's limp form, crouching over him tenderly, "Kaidan. Kaidan, talk to me. Come on, Alenko. Talk to me, that's an order!"

The man did not budge, or speak, or even batter an eyelash. He simply lay there, unmoving. Marcus checked for a pulse, and sighed with relief as he found one, but it was very feint. He needed medical attention, and fast.  _The Citadel...Huerta Memorial...if I can get Kaidan there they can save him._

He patted the man on the shoulder, moving to heft him up, "Hang in there, soldier. You don't get to die yet. None of us do. We've got a job to do first, and we're only just getting started."

The roar of the Normandy's engines was heard over him as he slung Kaidan over his shoulder effortlessly, and as he turned around, he saw the frigate looming over the platform, casting its shadow over them, and its shuttle bay door hung open and banging against the floor. Joker's voice shouted into his comm, "Shepard, we have to go! EDI's detected Reaper forces in orbit; at least five Sovereign-Class capital ships, and seven Destroyers. There's also thirty-two Tarantula-Class Troop Transports, as they've identified them. We need to leave now!"

He heard the urgency in the pilot's voice and immediately spun as he heard the familiar sound of an airhorn, watching as a Reaper capital ship landed nearby, the impact of its landing causing the ground to shake beneath it. A Reaper destroyer landed just infront of the sandstorm, roaring its victory. As he looked up, he saw the sky was alight with fire; the Reapers obviously had destroyed the space stations and shipyards in orbit, and were moving to the surface. Earth had fallen, and now the rest of the Sol System was about to follow.

Turning away, he ran up to the shuttle bay door, and stepped onto it. James was already rushing inside with Eva in his arms, while Keeling held Liara under arm, the asari cradling her broken nose, purple blood oozing from her nostrils, while Cortez rushed past her. By the time Marcus was off the ramp, the frigate was already lifting off, and he looked at Mars for the last time before the door shut away the view. It would be the last planet he ever saw in his home system for a very long time.

Inhaling, he then exhaled, steeling himself for the battles to come.  _This war will likely destroy me, but I won't let it do it lightly. I will not stop until the Reapers are destroyed, the Illusive Man is dead, and Cerberus is in ruins. We cannot lose. We must not lose. It'll mean the destruction of all galactic life as we know it if we do._

He commed his helmet once more, speaking to Joker in a rough tone, "Get us out of here, Joker. Head for the Andura Sector and link up with the rest of the alliance naval forces there. We'll head to the Citadel together."

"Got ya Shepard," Joker sighed, "Its hard leaving."

"Its going to get harder," he growled, hating the acid in his tone as he increased his pace to the elevator, afraid if he stayed he might reconsider leaving, "Best get used to it. This war's only just begun, and now two players are on the field."

As the elevator doors closed behind him, and he shuffled Kaidan's unconscious weight on his shoulder, he cut the comm, and became what the galaxy needed him to be.

Captain or not, Commander Shepard was back in action.

**"So that's when you first encountered Cerberus on the battlefield? When you learnt of the Illusive Man's intent?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Indeed. And it wouldn't be the last. There would be many and more battles before the war is over. But the Reapers were always the main threat. Even Cerberus knew that."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So you linked up with the fleets in the Andura sector, and headed for the Citadel. What happened then?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"We talked to the Council. And again, the idiocy was palpable. But this time it was out of terror...not ignorance. I had never seen them so terrified."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You believed me dead? You thought wrong. He's another chapter to prove that.** _

_**The chapters following this will be largely based on the Citadel, but do not worry. Shepard will be running into quite a few friends along the way.** _

_**Please leave reviews and Keelah Se'lai!** _


	5. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the horrifying epicenter of the Reaper occupation of Khar'Shan, the Hegemony employs several last resorts. The Turian Hierarchy engages the Reapers over Palaven. Cerberus invades Eden Prime. Petrovsky oversees the Cerberus occupation of Omega.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

**CONVERGENCE**

_June 3, 2186_

_1006 hours._

_Military Checkpoint C9, Rekalhafg Gutter 5, Rekalhafg, Khar'Shan._

_The Reaper War, Fall of Khar'Shan._

_Gerek Maawt, Rmaz Qualr._

The heavens had fallen. The clouds had crumbled and burned. From them came the hordes of hell; monolithic demons that were kilometers in length, blowing through their fleet to descend upon them. Airhorns blasting through the area like a descending cloud of death. It was the closest definition of hell he could find, and it converged all around them, seemingly consuming the planet and all it was worth. His home was being invaded by an enemy more powerful than any could imagine.

Khar'Shan had fallen. His world burned. His people were gathered up and either murdered, and sent into concentration camps that the unknown enemy had set up on the planet; and they never came back out again; not even as bodies. No, the person they were was destroyed, and replaced with the cybernetic body of a mindless husk; a cannibal. That was the fate that awaited the batarian species if they all fell into this enemy's hands.

_I sure as hell won't get caught then._

And as he looked down up at the child he currently ran with in his arms, he knew  _damn well_ he wasn't letting those bastards get his hands on her.

She wasn't even his child; she had been a little child he had found outside the school, all covered in dust and crying. He had picked her up, and quickly began running as he heard husks heading their way. Now he just kept running and running, all the while the child get crying for her mum and dad.  _They're dead kid; either that, or being turned into one of their mechanical servants. You and I will be too if we don't find somewhere to hide._

The streets were empty, but the sound was never absent. As he ran down the empty road, child in his arms, he could hear gunfire in the distance; screams, which were in turn answered by the terrific airhorns of their enormous enemy. Flames licked at any building they could touch; a swath of destruction moving along their world and burning it to ashes. Rekalhafg wasn't Khar'Shan's capital city, but it was one of its major population centers.

Now it was just ashes and dust and death and wrath. The Pillars of Strength weren't enough to save them, and they all knew the batarian hegemony had all but fallen; their own government dead.  _Not that any batarian would mourn our dead leaders. The fall of the Hegemony should be a celebration; but there is little time to celebrate when the people who fell upon your enemy are now trying to kill you._

And this enemy made the Hegemony look merciful.

Abandoned skycars littered the road, either covered in ash, or acting as tombs for the dead. Civilians and military alike covered the ground, covered in their own blood and occassionally accompanied by a dead husk; whether it be human or batarian in origin. Some of the cars burned and crackled, and some sections of the road looked like they had been blown apart. Row upon row of buildings aligned Gutter 5, but they looked no different then they had under Hegemonial rule; rundown and stagnant, with little to no maintenance or caring put into its construction. Now some had been blown wide open, their debris laying on the ground before it, their interior scorched and flaming. Some had been damaged and some significantly so, but others were left untouched, as if they had never witnessed an attack at all.

He was getting tired now; his lungs heaving with the effort to keep him supplied with oxygen. His four eyes continously closed and opened as he felt a huge stitch form in the pit of his abdomen, but he willed himself to continue, the weeping sounds of a child in his arms possessing him into action, so he kept running. The need to survive was strong.

He had been walking to work when the city saw the attack. The ground had shook, and everyone had rushed onto the street to see a piece of hull from a batarian warship, scorched and barely recognizable, wedged in the ground, and it was quickly followed by more from the sky, and they had looked up to see what seemed to be the  _entire_ batarian navy falling from the heavens to land on Khar'Shan...

...then they had come. Down they descended, blowing their airhorns and stretching their legs out wide as they fell towards them. Some were two kilometers in height, while others were 160 meters, but all of them were huge, and he had watched crowds of people vanish into nothing as they were impacted by high-velocity beams of accellerated tungsten hitting with the force of 40 megatons of TNT, either blowing them asunder, blasting them into ashes or simply vaporizing them into atoms; either way, he had watched a slaughter, and had run as fast as he could. The coward he was, he didn't even see if his wife or kids were okay. It was fight or flight; and he had run as fast as he could. Abandoned his wife and kids to die. And the more sickening thing about it, was that he didn't care. He had always been selfish, and this was the epitome of it.

He had kept on running, his family most likely captured or killed by the enemy, but he didn't care; just kept running. He had even hid as a tank, a captured Alliance Grizzly, had rolled past, followed by a convoy of old Hegemony Ravager-Class armoured support vehicles; a large, bulky vehicle with two, large 55mm cannons that had a firing rate that was pretty slow, but incredibly powerful. They had moved in a convoy, accompanied by two Hegemony Mantis gunships, and at least forty batarian soldiers. They had raced past to meet the enemy, and he had watched just one... _one..._ of those damn things fire into them; a single beam practically annihilating the convoy with one swath, followed by the rest of the force with a second, and the enemy had continued on...and that had been one of the 160 meter tall ones.

Wasn't long before he ran into the child; still sitting outside of the school, balling his eyes out. He had picked up the child and moved to leave, but a batarian soldier had fast approached, barking at him to stay put, his rifle raised. He continued to yell, and Gerek thought he would die, but just as quickly as the soldier appeared, he disappeared as a husk tackled him onto the ground, tearing his throat out with his teeth. Gerek had run away to the sound of the soldier's choked screaming, which seemed to intensify the child's crying.

And now here they were; running. Just running, as fast as they can, hoping to outrun them. But what was the point? They were everywhere. Their armies dropped from the skies and landed in the mountains, and these gargantuan vessels seemed to land in every major city; he doubted even the capital was safe. Where could they hide, that this enemy was not already at? Was this the beginning of the end for the batarian race?

What if this was the enemy that Commander Shepard had been talking about?

Any thought of the human or his species was dragged away as he reached a military checkpoint on the road, causing him to stop.

It was abandoned, that much was obvious. A large wall had been set up, obviously makeshift, with two towers watching over it and a large, steel gate that was open. One of the ladders leading up to one tower was dripping blood, and below was the mutilated corpse of a hegemony soldier, along with numerous other dead soldiers and civilians around it; the stench of gore reaching his nose and almost making him retch. A grizzly was left abandoned behind it, its hatch open. Slowly, and respectfully, he edged his way through the overrun checkpoint, trying to keep his eyes off the dead bodies and his mind off the wretched smell of the rotting cadavers around him.

The area beyond the checkpoint was all the same; more death, more abandonment. It was always the same.

What wasn't the same was one thing. The kid wasn't crying anymore, and he heard a tiny voice speak, words muffled by his shoulder, but still hearable.

"How much furthur?"

He gulped, swallowing as he tried to relieve his dry throat, "Not far. Just this last street."

"I want my mummy. I want my daddy."

He sighed, shaking his head as he began moving forward again, shaken into action by another, distant airhorn blast, the sound shaking him to the core. He hated it, "Well you can't see them. They're dead; they took them. The enemy took them."

He heard a sniffle, followed by the kid talking, "Who are the eneeme? I don't no the enemee. Are they bad peepel?

"Yes," he turned, watching the destruction in the distance, and the distant screaming as people were dragged into the camps. He just as quickly ripped his gaze away, unable to watch the horrors taking place, "They're very bad people. Evil."  _And evil doesn't even begin to describe them. Unfathomable? Malevolent? Sick? Horrific?_

"I'm not scared," the kid stated, seemingly proudly, as Gerek began to break into another run, "My daddy taught me to never be scared, in case the hege..hege... _hagam-_ "

"Hegemony," Gerek corrected.

"Yeh. Them," she stated, "He told me to  _never_ be scared. Are you scared?"

 _More than you know. I think I pissed myself,_ "Yes."

"I'm not," the kid repeated, "I won't be. I cant be. Im better than that, my daddy said."

_You're braver than me. I'm just a bloody coward; the coward who fled and left his wife and kids to a unimaginable death, only to save a kid I don't even know._

He could only mutter a single response, "At least one of us is brave. At least one of us isn't scared."  _But she is scared. Just like me. I saw it in her eyes. She's terrified, and she has every right to be. Pillars of Strength, grant me at least enough courage to save us from this predicament. Can't be much further._

He wasn't wrong. Not technically. The end of the street had only been a kilometer up, and they had reached an intersection; one took them out towards the city walls, while the other moved further into the city's shopping district; if you could even call it that. The place looked just as deserted as the rest had, but it was clear this part of the city had not been touched yet.

He sighed, looking up into the sky, and drinking in its contents; but the taste was bitter, and bloody. The sky was the same vibrant orange as it had always been, glowing like a great fire, but now it was even brighter; brighter with the colors of the enem-The Reapers, dropping from the sky.

_We all know what they are. Shepard warned us they were coming, and the idiocy of our government will cost us our existence._

The kid spoke again, "I wanna go home. I dont wanna stay hear."

He smiled, but it was grim, "We're leaving now. We'll go somewhere safe. Far away."  _A hole in the ground, maybe. Those bastards won't think of looking there for us._

He took a step forward, but as soon as he did, it was like a trigger for damnation. For destruction. But it wasn't of the kind you'd expect. It was of a different origin. Of  _batarian_ origin.

Sirens. They built in crescendo, like a wailing animal, rearing in alarm. His head shot up and the child started to cry again at the sound, and he began patting his back to calm her down, but it did nothing, and he just kept wailing. The sirens continued, and he didn't seem to recognize them, unable to understand what was going on.  _Why are they-_

Then he saw it. Rising into the sky; missiles, five of them, rising from the ground and shooting up, but all spreading in different directions, and only one headed for them. He watched it with a frown as the lone rocket moved towards the city center. He saw three missiles in the distance get shot down, as if the Reapers were desperate to destroy them.  _Why? They're just...just..._ his eyes widened in horror and he cried out, his own eyes brimming with tears as he ran like a coward, heading for the exit, child in hand. He knew what came next. He wanted out.

And he remembered that the kid was still turned around.

A brilliant flash sounded behind him, and the child roared in agony. He turned the child back around, who's tears had started flowing like a well as she closed her eyes, a sizzle coming from them. And then, like a fool, he turned around, and froze.

The middle of the city was gone; a great mushroom cloud in its place, rising up into the sky. Its many rings surrounded it, and he could only watch as buildings began to combust into flames, and others simply blew apart, skycars and the like being thrown up into the sky like leaves on the wind. He growled as he felt his skin begin to prickle and burn, and he looked down, watching his skin begin to redden, and blisters formed. The blisters then popped, and his skin crackled again, before beginning to blacken and bleed. He roared in pain as he looked back, listening to the kid's screams as they were both burnt asunder. And as he melted and burnt, he watched the shockwave of the nuclear blast reach him, and this time, he looked upon it like a guardian angel.

Being blasted into atoms was better than burning alive, after all.

The blast hit him, and everything went black. The last thing he felt was his body being blasted into nothing, and the whoosing of the wind.

But this wind was angry. And burning.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_0940 hours._

_Main Bridge, Amacus-Class Supercarrier THS Solemn Reaper, In Orbit of the Trebia Relay, Trebia Relay, Apien Crest Cluster._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Palaven._

_Didact Irix Coronati._

Irix Coronati, Head of the Turian Navy, and loyal patriot to the Hierarchy, was worried.

Normally, he was unfazed. As a turian, war was his lifestyle, his creation. He was molded in the art of combat, and defined by his ability to kill. All turians were warriors after signing up at the age of fifteen, and Irix knew this better than most, especially as he was Didact of the Turian Navy; one of the most prominent and important positions in the Hierarchy, hell, the Council, due to the turian fleet's significance in maintaining galactic peace. When it came to the galactic community, everyone knew of the turians, and either feared their wrath, or respected their audacity.

The turians had defeated every threat known to Palaven, and the Council, including their own people. They had united after the Unification War; they saved the galaxy from the krogan in the Rebellions. Palaven never fell, and neither did the turians. They were held together by three things alone; patriotism and devotion to the hierarchy, willingness to sacrifice for the greater good, and the need to protect those who could not defend themselves.

But now came an enemy even the turians couldn't comprehend.

Irix had heard the reports galaxy wide; a new enemy had reared its ugly head, an enemy called the Reapers, and it had practically toppled the Batarian Hegemony and Human Alliance in just six hours, capturing both of their homeworlds respectively; and now their next target was the heart of galactic military power itself; Palaven, birth place of the turian race.

Irix was worried because Palaven had never fallen before, but this enemy appeared to be unbelievably powerful, not to mention intelligent. The Systems Alliance had been the Hierarchy's only rival in terms of tactical brilliance, tenacity and strength; their navy rivalling the turians in sheer size. And even they had fallen easily to the Reaper onslaught; an invasion seemingly out of nowhere.

 _And now they come to burn my world too._ But he wouldn't let it happen; the turians would not fall. They could not. The loss of Palaven would cripple the Hierarchy's resolve, and serve to weaken the Council. It was why he was here now; he had originally been assisting a task force set up by Primarch Fedorian himself; assigned to improving the Trebia System for possible enemy invasion; and all because a certain Garrus Vakarian had advised it. And now it was paying off.

The early warning systems they had in place had warned that the Reapers were splitting once more, leaving a fifth of their forces at Earth, and having the rest head straight for the Apien Crest. Their buoys detected them entering the cluster, and it gave them time to prepare and mobilize. The strongholds and defenses on Menae were garrisoned and activated, and the turian blackwatch, marines and army were all securing every major Palavade orbital space station, and major city; cities were evacuated, positions fortified. The turians were ready, with ArchGeneral Adrien Victus, a man he knew personally, moving to Menae to direct his troops from there.

Irix had elected to split his own ships. Half of his fleet; the First through to the Sixth, was positioned over Palaven, while the Seventh through to the Tenth aligned the system, waiting in reserve. Irix had the Eleventh through to the Sixteenth, all of them positioned behind the relay; their plan was to take the Reapers by surprise by hitting them in the back, use their own perceived enemy arrogance against them. The Reapers would believe that their enemy would be so misinformed on their abilities, that they'd try a head-on assault, and the Reapers would carve through them like they did at Earth and Khar'Shan; but they would find no easy victory here. The turians would wait behind the relay, and hit them from the rear with overwhelming force; torpedoes, nuclear ballistic rockets, cruise missiles, bunker busters, pulse lasers, GARDIANs, MAC guns, fuel rods, and the lot. And if that hadn't helped; they had deployed nuclear space mines around the relay's entrance, which means they'd be heavily weakened upon entry into the system.

Now, it was a waiting game. His supercarrier, the Solemn Reaper, as it was so ironically called, sat in the middle of the Fourteenth Fleet which was at the forefront of the relay defense. Numerous fighter wings sat around them, along with numerous frigates, destroyers, cruisers and a single battleship. His forces' six dreadnoughts were positioned all over, with their own escorts, and one seemed to be escorting its fleet's supercarrier, the THS Trebia's Reckoning, which had deployed all its fighter wings to defend its fleet upon orders of that fleet's admiral.

Irix stood on the bridge, galaxy map in front of him and his men's consoles awash with light as they typed. He stood there in full turian medium armor, the black of the colony of Baetus painting his features, his mandible silently twitching as he stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back. He took in light breaths, maintaining the aura of a infallible battle commander to his troops. He had no idea just what he was expecting to face; weapons, numbers, armor, capabilities. All four of them were an unknown, the only thing he knew was that they were Reapers, and that their name was very fitting. And that was just enough to scare him.

He couldn't take the silence anymore. It might consume him. He raised his voice, flanged tones reverberating through the bridge, "Status update. What have our interior cluster beacons picked up?"

"The Reapers are advancing, but ableit slowly," one of his officers stated, "They seem to be taking their time sweeping the other systems before heading here. The Gemmae System has fallen, and they're moving towards Trebia, with the other third of their invading force cleaning up in the Castellus can assume they'll be here to bolster their forces soon."

Irix nodded.  _They're neatralizing any threat our inner colonies and fortresses pose to their invasion of Palaven, so they'll dispose of them before moving to us. They know we're a threat, and won't be hasty like they did with the Kite's Nest and Local Clusters. They'll take their time here, and that'll give us the advantage. But to think that Trebia is the final bastion of the Apien Crest..._

"Estimation of their numbers?" Irix demanded, turning to his tactical officer, who immediately began running the numbers through his terminal.  _I cannot show weakness or despair. Anything like that, and their morale will be crushed, and hope lost. Besides, the turian hierarchy has learnt from the Alliance's mistake; to destroy the Reapers, we must fight overwhelming force with overwhelming force; we don't meet them with a third of our navy, we meet them with our_ _ **entire**_ _navy, all at once, everything we have. It'll have to be enough._  And Irix was lucky enough to have the heavy cruiser THS Seraph, part of the Twelfth Fleet, which had been fitted with one of the hierarchy's prototype thanix cannons; a weapon salvaged from the depths of Sovereign.  _They won't expect us to fight them with their own weaponry._ The only other ships in the fleet with the technology was the dreadnought THS Incorruptible, which had two of them, and the destroyer THS Manevolence of Creed, both being part of the Fourth Fleet, and currently in the juristiction of the forces of Palaven.

The tactical officer replied, looking up at him, "The forces from Gemmae currently heading for us are around 52 in strength; with eleven Sovereign-Class capital ships, thirty-three troop transports, and the rest are Destroyers."

 _Fifty-two. And that's not even accounting for their main bulk in the Castellus system,_ "And the size of their main fleet?"

The operator gulped as he typed in the commands, and turned back to him, his features replaced with one of turian courage and valor, "In the thousands, sir. Sources indicate that a third is setting up a no-fly zone in the cluster, another third is making sure the cluster itself is clean, and the rest is attacking the Castellus System. All up, I count at least eight hundred and eighty-one capital ships, two-hundred and forty destroyers, five hundred troop transports, hundreds of others of types we cannot ascertain."

Irix gulped, not liking those numbers.  _The least we can do is weaken them. The Batarians and Humans weren't able to kill any of them, but we'll be able to kill a couple, at least. Show the galaxy they can be destroyed; they ain't invincible, and give them a rallying cry._

"That's good enough Gunnery Master," Irix replied, giving him a curt nod of the head before turning to look back at his galaxy map, which had currently been replaced by a holographic representation of the Trebia System; its small, but old, sun lying in the middle, Aventen being closest to Trebia, followed by Caelax. Palaven itself, along with its moon, Menae, quickly followed, and then came the colony of Impera and Essenus. And at the very edge of the system, was Datruix.

The Hierarchy had set up colonies on Impera and Essenus, but they were mostly military-controlled installations; all of which had been abandoned and evacuated as soon as word of the Reaper invasion came, and all forces were garrisoned around Palaven; every turian knowing that the defense of their homeworld always came first.

"Sir!" An urgent voice called out, "We just received word from the Hierarchy! Taetrus has  _fallen_ to the Reapers! The Mactare System is gone!"

Irix's eyes widened. Taetrus had always been a symbol of the Hierarchy's ability to protect its people, and the triumph of good over evil ever since the separatist terrorist attack on its capital during the Unification War. But to learn that it had once again fallen...it would cripple the Hierarchy's resolve.  _Spirits...this is becoming a harder fight than we originally thought._

"Those Reaper bastards," one turian hissed.

Irix raised an eyebrow from him, gaining enough strength to raise his head and look at him, "What?"

"They...I don't know, but they've tapped into our communications network and they're transmitting this image throughout all channels."

Irix watched the image pop up, and he had to stop himself from slouching or turning away. There, still as a freeze frame, as an image of Taetrus' capital lying in ruins, flames gushing up into its atmosphere and people dying in the streets, with Reapers raining death on the populace, along with others dropping from the sky. It was a slaughter house, and a voice spoke through the channel, causing them to flinch upon hearing its demonic, synthetic tone.

 **"Your destruction is all but assured,"**  the voice stated,  **"The batarians and humans have fallen; it is not long before your race is also harvested. Surrender to your ascension, and you will know solace and tranquility. We are the Nazara. The Protheans, and the races of your cycle, called us the Reapers. We are your salvation through destruction. Meet your end with dignity, and you shall not have died in vain. Ascend to your new form...** _ **Reaper**_ **form,"** the Reaper finished, its voice seeming to echo within his brain,  **"Resist if you must, but know this, your time has come, and Harbinger will lead us to victory, as it always has in the many cycles before you. The Protheans fell, and so will you. I am Vanguard, and I bring you peace, alongside extinction."**

A pulse. He saw it, clear as day, and immediately zoomed in on the map to the Trebia Relay, where he, indeed, saw a pulse coming from the relay, followed by it getting more intense, meaning something was coming through. This was it; the enemy was here, and they would throw everything they had at the turians in an attempt to destroy them.

The images of Taetrus disappeared as he announced battlestations, ordering his comms officer to give him a direct line to all the fleets at the relay. They all knew their orders; he just wanted command when they joined in battle. Their fleets were in battle standard; a wedge formation of ships, ready to batter the enemy head-on. It was a tactic the turians used to great effect, and he would enjoy seeing it at work with their current foe.

_I am Vanguard, and I bring you peace, alongside extinction._

Irix braced against the railing, ready to engage. And just as he blinked, the relay flashed a final, brilliant blue, and the first Reaper came through, by the other fifty-one of them.

Irix closed his eyes as the multiple flashes of all the relay's nuclear mines detonating became too brilliant for him to watch. He could only close his eyes, and hoped when he opened them, that his fleet had done some damage.

Upon opening them again, he felt a small grin tug at his mandibles. The nuclear mines had done significant damage to the enemy; He watched the mangled, torn metal debris of a destroyer float away, red eye flashing in and out of existence, while two troop transports looked crippled, and drifting. Another Sovereign-Class Reaper had been blasted in half, and another had lost two of its legs. Overall, it was more kills than the rest of the galaxy had gotten.  _And more than one kill. Lets finish them._

"Have the Undaunted and Resolute deploy their fighter wings to harass theirs," Irix ordered, "Then have the Plight, Retribution, Contrite and the Call for Balance FTL jump into the center of their formation and unloaded everything they have; take them by surprise. Have the rest of our ships pull back and unleash our payloads for a distance."

He watched the battle practically play itself; turian battle prowess always paying off. Swarms of winged dots shot out of the carriers Undaunted and Resolute, along with their defenses firing, and they engaged the enemy Oculi, small flashes signalling combat. Oculi seemed to harass the carriers' defenses, but they held out, allowing his fleets to pull back to a safe distance so as to not be in the Reapers' firing range.

He also watched as the dreadnoughts Plight of the Eleventh Fleet, Retribution of the Twelfth, Contrite of the Thirteenth and Call for Balance of the Fourteenth shot forward and disappeared as they entered faster than light travel, reappearing in a nanosecond in the Reapers' center; what happened next was just glorious. The dreadnoughts fired their weapons, and he watched as brighter flashes joined the already sustained engagement, but this time with multiple ICBMs going off, missiles impacting hulls, and numerous fuel rods and pulse lasers firing at the enemy, along with the ocassional report of a MAC gun.

He watched as the dreadnoughts finished off the half destroyed Reaper and the one with the missing legs, followed by the crippled troop transports. A Reaper capital ship turned to fire its main gun at one dreadnought, but sustained fire from the four dreadnoughts broke through the capital ships' shields, and eventually destroyed it. One Reaper destroyer managed to land ontop of the Contrite, but quickly found itself blown apart from the overwhelming gunfire placed on it, and it eventually exploded, showering debris through space.

The rest of the fleets in position, he ordered them to type in firing solutions and fire at will. The space between the two foes lit up; bright beams of red and blue, green and yellow ripped through the fabric of space and impacted the enemy, tearing into them. He watched one Reaper finally counterattack, red beam of light impacting and cutting clean through the Thirteenth's carrier, tearing through its barriers and armor like it all added up to nothing. Another Reaper followed suit, blowing into a light cruiser, but that was the last of the casualities the enemy wrought; two capital ships responsible quickly finding themselves blown to pieces from the sheer onslaught.

But then his eyes caught on one particular Reaper Destroyer, and it seemed to eye him with a malevolence, and he felt like he recognized it. And then he did. He didn't know how he knew, but that Reaper was the one that called itself Vanguard; the one that spoke in the image broadcasted on the news.  _The one that mocked us about Taetrus._

_I am Vanguard, and I bring you peace, alongside extinction._

He watched Vanguard land ontop of the Undaunted, and its defenses weren't enough to save it. The destroyer fired its beam, gutting the carrier from the inside and out, and Irix watched the laser tear through the other side, before swinging its body to the right, and cutting the vessel clean in half. The Resolute attempted to destroy Vanguard, but was simply swatted aside by one Reaper capital ship's leg, causing the carrier to collapse in on itself and fall apart.

A brillant beam of blue light erupted from the Seraph's belly, and he watched it connect with a nearby Reaper troop transport. The beam, after batting against the thing's shields, quickly broke through it and gutted the Reaper completely, destroying it. Satisfied with its victory, the Seraph gave itself time to recharge, and Irix shook his head.  _If only we have more of those cannons on our ships...we'd win the war within a week._

Their onslaught continued for three minutes, their forces exchanging fire; for every ship a Reaper destroyed, the turians would destroy one, cripple or damage another. It was an even trade, and Irix found himself pleased with the results, if only alittle. He believed that the Battle of Palaven might just turn in their favor.

Then he watched as fourteen Reaper destroyers simply vanished into FTL, followed by four capital ships. And before he could ask where they went, they reappeared.

Inside of their fleet formation.

Upon reemerging, one capital ship had rammed into two frigates, causing them to blow apart like broken splinters of wood, and it immediately rose its leg, a hot tongue of molten tungsten shooting out and gutting a nearby destroyer. The Destroyers got to work tearing into his ships, managing to destroy six more of his warships in the time it took for them to emerge from FTL. The capital ships spread out, using the turians' surprise and arrogance against them as they began destroying ship by ship, turning the battle in their favor. Where once Irix had been winning, he was now losing at a rapidly declining rate.

Another beam of blue light pierced two Destroyers in a consecutive order, reducing them to heated pieces of metal in space, and Irix had to restrain himself from crying out in triumph as he watched the Seraph facing the enemy incursion, thanix cannon now fired and needing to cooldown. He ordered the Solemn Reaper turned around and its fighter complement deployed, noticing that the fighters from the Undaunted and Resolute were now gone; overwhelmed now that their carriers were gone and could not provide any support.

_These bastards think fast. They adapted more quickly and recovered more rapidly than I could have thought. An organic admiral would have been too stunned to do anything until it was too late; but they recovered unbelievably fast._

As he turned however, he could only watch as Vanguard ignored most of the ships around him and shot straight for the oblivious Seraph, a capital ship behind it simply ramming any ships that got in his way.

He heard its voice in his head as he saw the Seraph slowly turn to face the threat, but not fast enough,  **"Your courage is admirable, and you have shown yourselves to be worthy opponents. But you are foolish; you cannot hope to escape your destiny. Your destruction is at hand."**

The Seraph charged up its thanix cannon, but Vanguard had already latched onto it, legs grasping its body like a blood-sucking mosquito, ensuring the heavy cruiser couldn't escape. Unable to fight back, the Seraph was blown apart as Vanguard fired its beam directly into its missile silos, detonating all the missiles inside in a cascade that broke the cruiser's spine, before causing it to depressurize, implode and then explode. And Vanguard, all the while during this, just lazily drifted off, as if killing had become so casual it was like completing a chore. The Seraph's debris drifted off, and Irix watched their action's only hope drift away.  _Without its thanix cannon, we can't hope to hold off the main force when it gets here. I need the reserves..._

He moved to have the comms officer open a channel with the fleets in reserve, but watched as the four dreadnoughts he had FTL jump into the enemy fleet turned around and began firing long range at the enemy, hitting them directly. The troop transports weren't that much of a threat, so they focused mainly on the destroyers and capital ships. Streaks of light blew through space and slammed against shields and armor, doing damage all the same. And Irix felt some hope creep into his mind.

Only to have it stamped out again, this time much more violently, as the relay brimmed with activity once more.

The first capital ship through rammed straight into the Retribution, the dreadnought literally exploding outwards at the speed of the impact; like a shotgun's spread. But this capital ship wasn't normal; it was four kilometers larger than capital ships, and it had eyes; eyes that glowed brilliant orange. He had heard the Alliance's reports about this one. The leader of the Reapers, and the most powerful.

_Harbinger, they called it. They didn't exaggerate its size. Spirits..._

More of them poured through, and they just came in a neverending swarm. They seemed to completely ignore the debris of their fallen comrades and simply turned around, forming a wall of impenetrable armor that began to converge them, Harbinger taking up the rear to deal with the three remaining dreadnoughts.

The Contrite fired everything it had at Harbinger, but its shields simply absorbed the assault, and converged on the THS Plight. The Call for Balance turned onto a full broadside and gave the Reaper leader everything it had, but what it had wasn't enough, and Harbinger rammed into the Plight, scattered its crew and hull to the wind. Contrite and Call for Balance attempted to pull out of the engagement, but Harbinger wasn't having it, and its body lit up as four, bright red beams leapt out from its belly, the first cutting the Contrite completely in half, the second impacting the bow of the Call for Balance and coming out the other end. The third detonated the Contrite's fusion reactor, causing it to detonate in a brilliant flash, and the fourth cut the Call for Balance down the middle. In the span of seconds, Harbinger had wiped out four of the Hierarchy's dreadnoughts like they were nothing.

 _Luckily for us, the Plight and the Contrite were up for decomissioning anyway; construction of the Salvation and Rupture was completely yesterday, and they were due to be launched at the Citadel tomorrow; luckily they're still there, so the Reapers can't destroy them._ Even so, the destruction of four of the turian navy's most powerful warships was a devastating blow, and Irix pondered how long before his own supercarrier fell victim.

Meanwhile, his fleets were being annihilated, and their victory wasn't so assured anymore. They had lost the element of surprise ages ago, and now the Reapers were free to use their overwhelming force tactics to obliterate the opposition. The Eleventh Fleet was all but completely devastated, with its flagship and admiral gone, along with the majority of its cruisers, destroyers and frigates. The Twelfth was quickly being overrun, and the Thirteenth's flanking tactic had been met with brute force. Vanguard and Harbinger were now tackling the Fourteenth, and it wasn't long before the Fifteenth and Sixteenth, unharmed by the combat apart from losing a few ships to the Reaper FTL counterattack, were called into engagement, and he would assuredly lose them as well.

 _Only hope we have of regaining any favor in this is to regroup with the First through to the Sixth over Palaven and hope that our combined firepower can keep them at bay, or at least delay them until reinforcements from the Council can arrive._ He remembered the Hierarchy's creed, repeating it in his head.

_"Palaven has never fallen, and therefore the turian spirit has never died. You can stab it, rip it, blast it or mutilate it. You can mock it, you can burn it, you can question it, you can doubt it, but you cannot kill it. It exists in every turian; it is part of our being; its in our blood. Long live the Hierarchy; long live the Turian Empire, and let it be known that Palaven has never fallen, and the Siege of Menae during the Rebellions does not count. Fight our enemies brothers and sisters; and know that your spirit is undefeatable."_

_Palaven has never fallen; and it won't now. Not even to the Reapers._

He had to order a retreat to Palaven before all was lost. He turned to his comms officer, "Order a full retreat back to the fleets stationed at Menae. Inform them ahead in advance that we've engaged the enemy and inflicted losses, but they're main force arrived and overwhelmed us. Tell them...the Battle for Palaven has begun in earnest."

"Very well sir!" he turned back to his terminal, "Sounding the retreat!"

"Captain, get us to Menae, full combat speed!" Irix ordered, shouting down to his subordinate, "I wanted us there yesterday."

The captain didn't even acknowledge the command; here merely relayed it to his bridge crew, and Irix watched as numerous turians of many different colonial stripes and gender moved about, executing their orders like well-trained warriors of the hierarchy did, and he turned to gaze back at the map of the turian home system, shaking his head, sighing.

The Hiearchy had been hoping for a quick victory, and they'd be very disappointing. No, this war would be long and bloody, Irix could tell. And, as he watched his fleet break away and enter FTL, followed by the Solemn Reaper, he could only wonder at just how many more people would die before the Reapers were defeated;  _if_ they were defeated.

 _I hate the Council,_ he thought also,  _If they had listened to Shepard three years ago, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess._

And now Palaven was paying the price for their inability to act.

He hoped Councilor Sparatus was contrite with himself.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1258 hours._

_Excavation Area, ExoGeni Research Dig, Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War._

_Powell._

The crate he was carrying was unbelievably heavy, probably containing numerous pieces of equipment he had no business poking around in. Either way, carrying it had been a bitch, and proven to be impossible with anyone with less strength than a krogan, so he had been forced to use a two-wheeled trolley to just move the damn thing around, and even pushing that had proven to be quite the challenge. Yet again, he wasn't exactly the mesomorphic type, and his body was pathetically limited its lifting option.

It had been three years since his experience in Colony Euphoria; he had been there during the outbreak of the Eden Prime War. He remembered just working, taking a nap, only to wake up and watch from behind a stack of crates as a mothership bigger than anything he'd ever seen descended from the sky and landed, its geth minions swarming all over the colony and butchering marine and civilian alike. They had reduced the colony to a smoking ruin, and all he had done was hide. Then he watched the spectre villain himself, Saren Arterius, murder Nihlus Kryik, if he remembered the name correctly, and simply walk off. It had also been the place he met  _the_ Commander Marcus Shepard, although he gathered it wasn't that much of an honor to know the man anymore.

_The guy blew up an entire star system full of batarians. Murderous freak._

Powell had resolved to staying on Eden Prime ever since then, deciding to move and live in Colony New Hope, on the opposite end of the planet. The Colony recently became famous a a few months ago when confirmation was reached that a massive prothean structure had been located under their colony, and two companies had come running to lay claim; ExoGeni Corporation, and Synthetic Insights. Of course, ExoGeni lay claim first, and before you knew it, they owned an entire excavationary dig dedicating to unearthing the structure and selling the technology to the Council for an outrageous amount of money. ExoGeni had promised to pay those a healthy sum of the profits if they helped in the dig, and Powell had signed up quicker than ever. And now here he was, moving crates around.

He felt ripped off.

The excavation was still ongoing, but they were getting very close now; a kilometer more, and they'd have full access to the structure below, and all its secrets. Its discovery could not only dwarf the Prothean Beacon discovery back at Colony Euphoria, but could make the Mars Archives discovery seem like child's play. Powell had to admit, he was intrigued.  _That beacon almost got me killed, but this? Just what secrets are inside? And to think, its discovered on a human colony. The Alliance could just take this and keep it to themselves...just what lays down there?_

An ancient prothean stronghold? Outpost? Shipyard? Some long, lost city? Another stupid beacon? Maybe Eden Prime's equivalent of the Mars Archives? Just what was down there, and what prothean information did it hold?  _Maybe it'll tell us just how the protheans build the mass relays and the Citadel...and then we could replicate it...huh, the first human-made Citadel and mass relays...then the Council will kiss_ _ **our**_ _asses._

The thoughts were shaken away as he arrived at his destination, pulling the trolley to a stop and offloading the cargo onto the elevator. He took a peek down the shaft, and let out a whistle. The dig site was a square in shape, and was at least two kilometers in depth. A tree had been uprooted from its position and now lay at its side nearby, and Powell seemingly found himself being reminded of Earth; the long, green grass fields, and the blue and white sky. Mountains lining the landscape, and birds flapping in every direction. It really was Eden.  _Looks just like Earth; almost an exact copy._

He heard the drill down below, and looked up to see numerous ExoGeni personnel moving around the site in their grey uniforms, some wearing the yellow of excavation specialists in the corporation. Powell seemed out of place among them; what, with him and his brown beanie, messy hair, rough stubble, and dirty clothing. He seemed like a gutter rat compared to them.

He sniffed, and didn't like what his nose picked up.  _When my shift is done, I'm definitely taking a shower. Maybe a cold one._

Shifting the trolley out from under the crate, he moved it away and was wheeling back towards the settlement to retrieve another one when he heard a familiar voice shout out from behind him, and he turned to face the origin.

Patty ran towards him, her short, auburn hair matted as it usually was, and calm blue eyes staring into his with urgency. They had been dating for a while now, but at the moment it wasn't quite a relationship, and more of a flirting sort of establishment. But he gathered it was better than loneliness.  _Noone else in this colony seems to appreciate me._ Seeing her approach, he smiled, but dropped it upon seeing the urgency in her eyes in its fullness, "What's wrong, sweetcheeks?"

She ignored the flirtaeous attempt and shook her head, waving to the back of the colony, "Haven't you seen the news reports?"

"No. You know I don't watch that stuff," Powell grimaced, leaning against the trolley's handle, "Its mostly just anti-Shepard batarian propaganda and more Alliance ass-kissing for the Council."

"This is serious, Powell," she gulped, "Earth's fallen. So has Khar'Shan. And they say Palaven is under attack even as we speak."

His ignorant gaze seemed to melt instantly upon hearing the first sentence, "I...what? How...I...what?"

"Yeah, happened two days ago, but we're only just hearing about it. Apparently the Council kept it secret to avoid a galaxy wide panic, but when batarians started flooding into the Citadel, telling tales of the enemy that annihilated their entire navy in a single blow, the Council just caved in. Khar'Shan fell first, followed by Earth two hours later, and all within the same day. Palaven came under attack just a few hours ago, and the attack's on going. They say the Council is just paralyzed with indecision, but they all agree that military mobilization and retaliation is the only answer. They're calling them the Reapers; apparently Shepard warned them three years ago about them, but they didn't listen, but he was right."

Powell gulped again, looking at the ground in shock. He couldn't believe it. Earth was gone?  _Why can't my days just go without a hitch? First I'm attacked on some colony by geth, then I'm on a colony that's almost abducted by Collectors, and now I've heard my homeworld's been invaded by an enemy we thought was a myth._

"This day just gets better and better," Powell mumbled.

"What?"

He looked up at her, sighing as he moved to repeat what he had said, "I  _said_ that this day just gets-"

A thunderous boom swept through the colony, and everyone seemed to duck instinctively, entering crouched positions on the grass. Patty cried out as she looked up at the sky, as did everyone else, looking towards the source of the boom.

They found its source pretty quickly; the sight of an Alliance Destroyer hovering over the colony was hard to miss. It hung in the atmosphere, parting the clouds with its approach, and it hung over them, its guns aimed at them. Normally, Powell wouldn't be running for the colony in safety, Patty's hand in his own. But there was something wrong with this destroyer; it wasn't flying the blue and white of the Alliance, and wasn't flying its insignia; instead, it was a deep mix of gold and white, with a golden hexagon on its rear and bow, all its guns aimed at them whilst deploying what looked to be a dozen shuttles of the same colors and insignia, and it was his sudden realization that sent him running. Even during all the batarian propaganda, he had seen the reports of the human terrorist organization, and its unforseen rise to power.

The destroyer was Cerberus. And they were here to take the colony.

Even as he was moving into the colony, the first kodiak landed, deploying its complement of troops; soldiers wielding heavy looking shields, packages on their backs, and others were wreathed in biotic flame, others simply carrying powerful looking weapons. One by one they stepped out and began to open fire, gunning down everyone in sight. Patty began to scream as they watched the people they knew and didn't know get gunned down like animals, and Powell ran for the nearest bunker, terrified out of his mind. He rushed into the bunker, Patty right behind him as they sat inside, Powell locking the door and catching his breath.

He heard more gunfire outside, followed by more screaming, and the sounds of more shuttles landing all over the colony. He heard a thunderous report nearby as a colony portable suddenly erupted into a towering geyser of flame and smoke, blown apart by a GARDIAN missile. He was confused at first, but then he remembered the Cerberus destroyer currently hanging over them.  _Oh crap. What do we do?_

He crawled over to Patty, and the woman looked at him with tears in her eyes, trying to muffle her sobs by holding a hand over her mouth. A Reaper attack was expected, but by Cerberus? The terrorist organization chose one hell of a time to attack out of nowhere. He patted her shoulder and urged her to keep moving, despite the terror that chilled his bones at that very moment. But right now the flight instinct was strong in him, and he had to get them out of here.

Taking her hand once more, he ignored the gunfire outside and rushed into the opposite portable, sliding behind a ExoGeni employee's desk, which was currently unoccupied, for obvious reasons. He almost cried out when he heard the glass shatter from an explosion, followed by what sounded like cybernetically modified voices, likely Cerberus', shouting out orders, followed by more scream. A few more reports from the destroyer sounded, followed by more thunderous explosions. Colony 'New Hope' had become a battlefield in the space of no time, and Powell and Patty were right in the middle of it.

"Thought I saw someone in here," one soldier muttered, the sounds of gunfire dying down as the battle moved further into the colony and towards the dig site, "I'm going to check it out."

He heard, and felt, a tremor rock the ground, followed by another, and then another. It became a rthym, and he realized it was something moving. As it got closer, he heard the creak and groan of metal moving against metal, followed by the sound of a heavy cannon firing, and then reloading. Judging by the harsh steps, he figured it was a YMIR mech.

Peeking over however, showed that it wasn't the UAV he thought it was; it was an Atlas mech, and it sported Cerberus' colors. A bullet whizzed past his head, and he realized he had been spotted as a squad of Cerberus troopers pointed at the building they hid in and started chasing them, bullets nearly hitting them. Both himself and Patty made a run for the door, and he could hear the footsteps of soldiers behind him, followed by more shooting.

They leapt inside and locked the door, his eyes never leaving the door as he slid to the ground, landing on his ass with a hard thump. He heaved, trying to catch his breath, terror etched in his features. He squeezed Patty's hand, but before some reason, she wasn't squeezing back, and she felt limp. He turned around to check if she was okay, and this time, he did cry out.

Patty's face was mess, drenched in blood where her entire forehead had essentially been blown off by the impact of a heavy bullet impact to the back of her head. What was left of her skull was broken fragments, and blood squirted out every once and a while. His body wracked with sobs as he watched the woman he had been growing to like lie there, drenched in blood and very dead. He cradled her body, and barely heard the door open behind him, unable to take his eyes off of her. "There he is," one soldier rasped.

Powell panicked, his cowardice making him immediately turn to flee. He met the soldier's eyes, and only managed to choke out a yelp before he took aim at Powell's head, and pulled the trigger. A split second of pain, and it was all over.

The same couldn't be said for Colony New Hope, however. And little had Powell known, but it wasn't just New Hope that was under attack.

Pretty soon, Eden Prime would be a Cerberus-occupied colony, and with noone but the Reapers nearby, noone could do a thing about it.

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_1416 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_The Reaper War, the Occupation Crisis._

_General Oleg Petrovsky._

Omega. The tumor of an entire galaxy. And it was all his.

How, how honored he would feel if the place looked just a bit presentable. Luckily, his army of forty thousand and sizable fleet of warships was seeing to that renovation, while also keeping the local populace under strict laws and penalties. It wasn't a dictatorship he ran, but more of a station under temporary martial law, which would clear up once Cerberus had defeated the Reapers and taken control of galactic government. Something that Petrovsky wouldn't get to pertake in.

He looked down on what the Illusive Man had titled the 'New Order' HQ, in reference to the defeat of Aria's leadership over the station and the insertion of Cerberus as Omega's official ruler and owner. Petrovsky had only controlled it for a year, but he had made short of making his presence known to the station; his ships perodically patrolled the Omega airspace, the Sahrabarik Relay, and the surrounding cluster, while his dreadnought, the CAW Elbrus, remained in low orbit over the station. His troops scoured the station, securing every nook and cranny, and making sure that the adjutants were sufficiently locked away in the space station's lower levels.

So he stood, in what used to be Upper Afterlife, and what was now the headquarters of Cerberus control on Omega. With the space station in their grip, they had a large tactical advantage in this sector of space, and the Illusive Man intended on keeping it, and Petrovsky wasn't one to disappoint.

He looked down upon the once thriving strip club. The middle section where asari dancers had once stood on display had been completely torn down, now replaced with a biotic inhibitor; almost exactly the same as the one Aria had been in. Two struts poked out from it left and right, and once the person was inside, it imprisoned them in a stasis field, ensuring they couldn't escape. The rest of the room had suffered a dramatic change as well; the edge had been given two levels, with the upper level being the home of multiple terminals, control centers and experimental technology, while the bottom level was mostly vidscreens, allowing quick debriefings by his troops. Ashe would have been in command down in Lower Afterlife, which had been transformed into a barracks, but the idiot just had to have gotten himself killed.

 _The man was a racist moron anyway. He jeopardized the safety of my men, the people of Omega, and himself. He had to be removed._ Ashe's remains, or at least, his adjutant form's remains, had been vented to space, never to be seen again. The Illusive Man hadn't seemed too bothered with the loss, but he had made sure Ashe was replaced, so now a new colonel commanded the barracks.

Omega's defenses had also gotten an upgrade since Aria T'Loak's exile. The defense cannons, he had to admit, were very powerful on their own, having been krogan anti-ship guns dating back to the Krogan Rebellions, and probably would have made short work of his dreadnought. But they were slow and cumbersome, and Cerberus had a much better idea.

The Illusive Man may have lost the Collector Base, but he had eventually gained access to the galactic core (through means he didn't question) and recovered parts of a destroyed Collector Cruiser, including the schematics for particle weaponry. It wasn't quite a Reaper's thanix cannon, but it was close. And TIM had immediately known where these weapons could be used best.

So the old krogan defenses had been destroyed, removed and replaced with brand-new, Cerberus-constructed, particle beam ship-to-ship surgical attack-defense weapons. They sat on rotating plates and were essentially a large gold and white metal box, golden hexagon on their side, with a barrel sticking out. They didn't fire the orange particle beams of a Collector ship, but rather a more crimson colored variant. But colors mattered nill; if these beams had the same destructive firepower of a Collector cruiser, then that's all that mattered. As it was, Omega was now lined with these things, making defense of the station much easier for the Cerberus occupiers.

_And it'll offer a surprise for Aria if she ever intends on coming back to reclaim her station, like she promised she would._

His rule over Omega had all been but assured, but there was one little setback, and it had sparked the Occupation Crisis that Cerberus was currently in right now.

The Talons; a mercenary group on Omega, apparently weren't happy with the new arrangements, and had staged an uprising; an attempted coup d'etat, if you will, to overthrow him and retake Omega. Their leader was an unknown, but his subordinate commanders had promised they would find and put an end to him, whilst also destroying their Talons. Even now, the mercenary's territory was slowly falling to them, and while their guerrilla warfare tactics were an issue and had made many of his supply runs a detrimental effort, they were being overwhelmed, and therefore his worries should be irrelevant.

The one thing that had him worried was that Aria may be behind the sudden uprising.  _Who else? She must have somehow contacted the Talons, told them to stage an uprising, whilst buying her time to regroup and counterattack. She hopes to catch Cerberus fighting a two-front war, and hopes to overwhelm us that way. A clever strategy, but one that's already falling back. She's lost her chance to attack, and now the Talons are slowly falling apart._

Aside from that little irritation, all was going well for Cerberus on Omega. They controlled and regulated a major part of the Terminus Systems, Eden Prime, he was informed, had fallen recently, and they had access to a large cache of prothean tech, and their agents reported that Operation: Fallen Angel was well into its phase two, and were now preparing to launch the invasion.

Either way, Cerberus' only problem would be the Reapers, and Petrovsky knew the Illusive Man would have a long-term plan for controlling them; once they managed to gain control over them, Cerberus would have the force it needed to subjugate the galaxy under its rule; under humanity's rule.

Petrovsky sighed, leaning heavily against the railing he stood behind, stroking his beard.  _But is it right? Morally? I joined Cerberus because the Alliance wasn't for humanity; it was for itself. I came here thinking the Illusive Man was fighting for humanity where others wouldn't, but the invasion of Eden Prime and planned attack on many other colonies seems to prove we're doing the opposite. It is good that I don't have anything to do with those; although, maybe that's how the Illusive Man had planned it out..._

Omega. His rule. His base of operations. He had a fleet and an army entire at his hands, and instead of fighting the Reapers with it, an enemy they should all be fighting, he was here, guarding a space station.  _My skills are better in the thick of battle; but now I'm stationary, my skills dormant, and my brainpower used to maintain an entire spacebound city. My potential is wasted here, I know that much, but if Cerberus wants me to hold this station, then so be it. For humanity._

He turned to walk away, returning to his desk as he activated his terminal, letting out a heavy sigh as he sat down in the seat and began searching his encrypted inbox for any messages from Cerberus Headquarters. He thought to himself where his skills could be used aside from rooting out the Talons.

Then he remembered Aria T'Loak, the original ruler of Omega and of the Terminus Systems in their entirety.

Yes, if she kept her promise, she would be giving him a worthy chance to prove his superiority in the arts of combat.

Or he could end up like another Napoleon. Either way, he would get the fight he wanted.

Petrovsky had a feeling he'd be waiting awhile, however.

**"The war had spread far faster than we first thought."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"And I was light years away, playing the admiral. We didn't even know the Reapers were out there."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"What about afterward? You mentioned getting a message that made you smile. What was that about?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"The beginning of the framework of a counterattack; a year in the making. And all because of one crazy, old bastard."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Garrus? Kal'Reegar? Really guys? No offense, but I told you to guess at who the guy Shepard was referring to was, and that the hint was that he was a 'mercenary.' Garrus has long since stopped being Archangel, and Kal'Reegar was never a merc to begin with. And now, with the words 'one crazy, old bastard,' it should be more obvious than ever. So obvious, that I'm not going to tell you, and you'll have to figure it out yourself.** _

_**As promised, this was a 'view' of the galaxy at how different people are dealing with the war. As you've noticed, I've given points of view from those suffering from the Reapers, and those from Cerberus, just to show you that this is a multi-front conflict; the Reapers are the main enemy, but Cerberus are really going to be a pain in the ass, as you all know. I was going to add a section with Aria on the Citadel, and then one with soldiers fighting on Earth, but they seemed pointless, and just seemed like they were dragging on the story, so I got rid of them. Don't worry, that doesn't mean battles on Earth or appearences of Aria are out of the question; I just didn't see a good reason to put them in this already sizable chapter.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers. I think you guys will love the next chapter; its literally focused entirely on...well, I'll leave you to figure it out. Suffice to say, its epic, and you guys should love it.** _


	6. Fortune Favors the Bold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaeed asks for Shepard's help in cleaning out a few bad eggs in the Blue Suns leadership.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

**FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD**

_June 3, 2186_

_1302 hours._

_Lower Wards, Original Site of Chora's Den, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

The Lower Wards were dead silent, not a sound to be heard among their cold, dead, abandoned walls except for their echoing footsteps. Marcus remembered this place all too well from three years ago; when he walked these exact halls to reach Chora's Den to rescue Tali; a quarian with intel he needed, only for him to run into and meet Wrex. He remembered how dirty and disgusting they had been, and how that extended to their equally disgusting inhabitants. The Lower Wards had been the Citadel's own little Omega; and now they were just ruins; noone had even bothered trying to fix the area.

He walked through what used to be the lower market, heading for the exit door, which had been completely twisted off the hinge, torn aside and a blue curtain of sorts hanging over it. The place was so silent it seemed to whisper to them as they passed; the hiss of gasses above giving the place a horror-like theme.

They moved through the doorway, coming across an inactive rapid transit terminal and heading into the overpass where Chora's Den was located. Turning left, he recognized the square-like interior of the pass, and the old sign, an asari dancer lying down in a sexual pose, was no longer lit, and some of it had been destroyed by debris.

They weren't alone, and Marcus felt himself smiling as they moved towards the old entrance, where debris still lay where it hadn't been removed. Multiple figures stood along the bridge, either holding SMGs, shotguns, assault rifles, pistols or sniper rifles, along with the occassional missile launcher or flamethrower. Had this been one year ago, Marcus would have been among them in combat armor, weapon in hand, and gunning them down, but today their blue armor was let unbloodied, and this time they weren't trying to kill him. He had his friend to thank for that.

They all stared at him, clad in blue armor from light, to medium to heavy; turians, humans and the occassional batarian. He heard a few batarians growl at him, but he ignored their gaze, heading for the lone figure who stood ahead, his armor standing out in the crowd of Blue Suns troopers.

One woman stood at his side, arms crossed and clearly the one in command. She wore a full helmet, her assault rifle holstered on her back. She cocked her hips on her right side, standing beside the mercenary who now called himself the leader of the Blue Suns.

"You actually came," the bounty hunter muttered, "Thought I might have been interrupting some goddam Council meeting. Wouldn't want to piss off our four fucking overlords."

"I'm done with those four fucking overlords," Marcus returned with a smirk, holding out his hand for the man to take, "I have to say, I didn't expect to get a message from you Zaeed, but bringing an army of mercs onto the Citadel? Expected that even less."

Zaeed Massani was just as grizzled as he had looked a year ago when he last saw him. The man was the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy, and for good reason; the crazy shit the old man had done would have earned him a number of statues in his honor; whether it was killing krogan battlemasters and taking their helmets, or blowing up turian warships; the man had done it. Even survived one bullet shot to the  _forehead_ after being betrayed by his co-worker, and then survived being  _blown to pieces_ by numerous more bullet wounds. He was a freak of nature, and the man was old enough to be his father. Numerous scars occupied his face, and his left eye was a white, cybernetic iris, giving it a very creepy look. His old armor was chipped, burnt and riddled with bullet holes, but it was working. And what only furthered the captain's smile was the avenger assault rifle on his back; Jessie he called it; a rifle the man had an insane attachment to.

And with his co-worker dead, by his own hands no less, Zaeed Massani had uncontested control over the Blue Suns organization, and all for one purpose; to provide a fighting force for battling the Reapers.  _At least its something._  Getting the Eclipse and Blood Pack on their side would be one hell of a challenge, but Marcus would find ways.  _I'm sure Zaeed will have some ideas..._

"If you stop expecting things from me, you won't ever be goddam surprised ever again," Zaeed replied, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, jabbing a finger at the men around him, "And I have to admit; having all these grunts to take fire for me has been great. Means I get to live longer, and the longer I live, the closer my retirement plan seems to be getting. Of course, I don't think that'll be happening very soon if I hear the reports are correct, and not just fearmongering bullshit."

"Its true Zaeed," Marcus replied, grin dropping almost immediately, his voice taking on a solemn tone, "The Reapers are here."

The merc spread his arms out wide, giving a mock look of surprise, "Well I'll be fucking buttfucked; we were  _right?_ And I thought for a second those retarded monkeys actually had half a molecule worth of a brain to be goddam right for a change. I'd love to stay 'we were right, and I'm loving it,' but I guess the destruction of all life isn't really something to celebrate is it?"

"Khar'Shan's fallen. Earth's fallen. Palaven or Sur'Kesh are probably next, if the Council tells it right," Liara spoke up, coming to stand beside Marcus with an inquisitive brow, "The Reapers have already butchered and harvested hundreds of thousands, most likely. Millions more will follow."

Zaeed turned to the asari, "Well its lucky we have a lot of fucking guns, isn't it? We'll get to even the odds," he waved to the Blue Suns around him, and turned to Marcus, "These sorry bastards are all yours to command, Shepard. He want us to blow up a fucking Reaper? Consider it done. Want some assholes to die so you can extract? I have the troops provided. All these assholes need is targets to shoot at. They'll do the rest..."

Marcus didn't like how the mercenary finished his sentence; like he wanted to add something else, but trailed off on purpose to let him know their was a catch.  _There always is. If there's one thing I've learnt by now, nothing is ever easy. But I'll do anything to get the Blue Suns under my belt. I don't like crawling into a bed with a mercenary organization, but I_ _ **need**_ _them to defeat the Reapers. I need them for the alliance I'm forming._

"But?" He finally felt the word leave his lips, like a breath of air on the wind that he wanted out of the way in a hurry.

Zaeed sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against a nearby piece of rubble and scratched his chin, "There's been a complication. Remember that cunt I told you about; Vosque?"

Marcus' eyes narrowed menacingly, "Darner Vosque. I remember him. You said he was the leader of the Blue Suns, and that you were going to 'relieve' him of command when you took over. What happened?"

"I got fucking soft," Zaeed growled, motioning to the woman nearby to finish the rest.

Her voice was soft but hardened, like that of a soldier, "Vosque didn't fight back when Zaeed took over; he just let him have the organization, and to our surprise, Massani just let him live. He made Vosque head of the Citadel division and, until recently, things were running smoothly. Now it seems Vosque has gotten a bit greedy and treacherous, and hopes to join Aria T'Loak's forces."

"Omega is a long way from here," Marcus commented, "And if I know Aria, she won't let just anyone see her."

"Aria isn't on Omega anymore," the woman shrugged, "She's here. On the Citadel. Vosque plans to meet with her soon, but we hope to eliminate him beforehand, and have Zaeed take over in his place with the negoitations with Aria."

"Why give you some blue-armoured cunts, when I give you Aria's cunts as well?" Zaeed piped up, revealing his plan, "My mercs are good, but Aria's a real badass; and I doubt the Reapers scare that bitch."

 _Goody. Wound up in mercenary politics. Although its slightly more enjoyable than Council politics, its still a tad on the tedious side. But I'm not certainly not looking a gift horse in the mouth. But why would Aria come here? She hates the Citadel. She wouldn't ever leave Omega, unless she has no choice..._ "Do you have any idea why Aria would be here?"

"Not a single one. But everyone agrees that whatever got her to come here, its royally pissed her off," the female Blue Suns officer spoke again, "Damn near choked a C-Sec officer to death with her biotics for simply asking for ID. Then she shoved Councilor Tevos' communicator in his face, and stormed off to Purgatory; its a clu-"

"I know what and where Purgatory is," Marcus deadpanned, turning back to Zaeed, "What worries me is this Vosque figure," his voice became ice, "He sounds like he needs to be removed."  _Noone is going to get in the way of this alliance. I'm done with being diplomatic to these scum. They either get in line, or I'll find someone to replace them. Vosque is no different. I'll kill him, and the Blue Suns will be mine. Every single soldier._

He looked around him, imagined the face of every single merc in the room; they would die under his command. Just when did he start seeing soldiers as a resource? If he starts thinking like that, what makes him any different to the Reapers?  _Next I'll be recruiting husks for my army. I'm nothing like the Reapers. I won't let those bastards define who I am._

"Which is exactly why I'm goddam here. To remove a thorn from my ass," Zaeed hissed, "That, and a whole bunch of mercs to help me, and my second-in-command, Jentha there. I planned on ambushing Vosque, but when I learnt you were here, I thought you'd like to deal with him yourself. He's fucking with your plans, afterall."

"You're letting me deal with your traitor?" Marcus asked, flabbergasted, "Why?"

"Truth is, I guess I goddam owe you a life," the bounty hunter replied, grunting, "You helped me kill Vido when you didn't fucking have to. That asshole plagued my life for twenty years, and here you were, willing to kill the fucker. You let me put a bullet between his fucking eyes. So let me return the favor. Vosque is all yours; the only left to you is how you kill him."

"Very well," Marcus declared, turning to Liara, "I'll run through the plan with Zaeed, Liara. Could you return to the ship and grab our armor and weapons for us? I'm expecting a fight."

"Do you want me to have Keeling and James suit up?" The asari asked, concern in her eyes.

"No. There's no need. Let them enjoy their shore leave," he stated, waving a dismissive hand and shaking his head, "Just you, me, Jentha, Zaeed, and a whole lot of Blue Suns. They're only mercs; we've fought a whole lot worse."

"That we have," Liara smiled alittle, turning to leave, "I'll be back soon with our equipment. Try not to run off anywhere. I'd hate to tell Tali that I lost you."

The grin remained on his face with her final sentence, but it no longer reached his eyes, mind conjuring up images of his quarian wife.  _Damn it, where are you? What are you doing out there? I need you, and you're nowhere to be seen._ He had tried contacting her through her normal inbox earlier on, but she either had changed its extranet IP address, or she simply wasn't replying. He didn't like to think she was ignoring him. She would never do that, would she?  _Damn this war. I might have found her already, if it wasn't for the damn Reapers...and now Cerberus._

Liara saw the look in his eyes and hastily left, trying not to let those thoughts linger.

Marcus dropped his smile entirely, setting a grim facade on his features to wipe away the emotion he secretly held. Turning to Zaeed, he spoke, ice in his tone, "I've got a war to win, Zaeed, and alot of armies to raise, lets get this over with. We'll find Vosque, kill him, and then I'll leave. And your certain that the Blue Suns will fight for me? For the galaxy?"

"They'll fight for me," Zaeed corrected, thumping his chest, "And I've fought alongside you. You're a crazy motherfucker, Shepard. Calling you my friend would be too goddam soft, but I've definitely come to know you as a comrade. So when the call for battle comes, call me, and I'll rally the troops and we'll charge in, guns fucking firing. The Blue Suns will be yours Shepard, on your terms, and my own. So, are we ready to kill this asshole, or what?"

Marcus nodded, squaring his shoulders and stretching them, "We'll wait here for Liara to come back. Once I've got my armor and weapons, we'll storm Darner's base."

"You need armor, Shepard? You've gotten fuckin weak," Zaeed chuckled.

"I'm not stupid or invincible, you old bastard," the man threw back equally, shaking his head, "I'm a mortal, just like you, and I need my armor as much as the next guy," deciding to change the subject, he asked for some intel, "Just where is Darner meeting Aria anyway? I'm assuming he'd do it at his base."

"You give him too much credit," Jentha replied, uncrossing her arms, "No, the imbecile's doing it right out in the open; just outside the Consort's Chambers on the Presidium. Aria is apparently well known here, and C-Sec seems to have cleared the area completely. Apparently Tevos' given her free reign, and Aria plans on taking advantage of as much of that privledge as possible."

"A Councilor's word on the Citadel might as well be law. I'm not surprised C-Sec has laid off," Marcus replied, scratching his forehead, "But if Darner and Aria are meeting in the middle of the Presidium, we can't launch a full assault. I won't do anything that harms innocent civilians."

"You think C-Sec's stupid, Shepard? They know how these meetings go; gunfights are commonplace," Zaeed waved a hand as a dismissive gesture, "No, the whole goddam section is like a ghost town. Even the Consort's Chambers are locked up tight, and its residents left a while ago. We'll have the whole place to ourselves."

The captain snorted, sighing.  _The first time I've fought on the Presidium since the Battle of the Citadel three years ago. Luckily for us, that was against geth and husks. If mercs is all we have to worry about, this battle will be over very quickly._

Marcus' response was quick and to the point, "Then all we can do is wait."

And wait they did.

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1338 hours._

_Outside the Consort's Chambers, Presidium, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, First Lieutenant Jentha Renmark._

Today was one of the days where he truly hated Alliance standard issue combat armor.

Not only was it pathetic in how much punishment it could take, but it was so light that it felt like it wasn't even wearing it. He might as well be naked for all the difference it made; and only the guns on his back gave him any reassurance that he was safe, and even those weapons were seriously lacking, save his SMG and shotgun.

 _First chance I get, new armor, new assault rifle. Might even try to find where my old Locust SMG went, along with my Claymore. I like the Piranha, but the claymore is just better. A proper krogan's weapon, Wrex would say..._ He strode forward, armoured boots clacking against the metal floor with each step, this part of the Presidium feeling eerily empty for an area that was meant to be the most populated, especially with the rich and cosmopolitans of every stripe.  _C-Sec did a good job evacuating the place._

"What's with the shitty weapons, Shepard?" Zaeed piped up, eying the weapons on his back, "They look piss-weak."

"Oh come on, you hypocrite. You use an Avenger," he shot back, "Besides, never said I liked them. Alliance practically force fed them to me; same with the armor. Believe me, I'll be getting new ones soon. I ain't sticking to these. Only weapon they couldn't take away from me was my biotics."

Zaeed snorted, turning away as he unholstered his own avenger assault rifle, "Jessie's different. I've upgraded her in many a different way, and now she packs a goddam punch ever since that Reegar guy fixed it. Yours is unchanged, unmodified, and that makes it pure shit in my books; could for nothing but shooting a wall with, and there's no satisfaction in that. I like to watch the blood squirt out of the men and women I kill. Makes it real; let's me know I've killed something."

"That's awful," Liara piped up, clad in her white armoured labcoat and Tempest SMG in hand, "To take joy from killing people is horrific and barbaric. Its just plain sadistic."

"Shepard didn't recruit me for my charm and calm words, asari," Zaeed replied, "He recruited me because I'm the meanest motherfucker in the Terminus Systems, and only second to Aria. People don't fuck with me and live to be smug about it, and that gains me influence over some pisspots. And one particular bunch of pisspots just happens to be people Shepard needs. Get with the goddam picture, girl, or the Reapers'll wipe the floor with you. War is ugly, I've gotten used to it, hell, thrived on it."

Liara looked about to protest, but Marcus just held his hand up to stall her, moving forward, "Zaeed's right, and while I don't agree with taking pleasure in it, getting used to it is necessary. We can't afford to play the censorship and paragade game when it comes to this war. If we want to win, we have to be ruthless. That means taking joy from the few kills we get. Its brutal, Liara. But you have to get used to it, or it'll only consume you, spit you out, and kill you."

"I didn't expect that from  _you_ of all people!" Liara objected, "What would Garrus say? What would-"

Before she could even say his wife's name, he spun towards her, halting his march and facing her, a chill in his tone, "Garrus would agree with me, and so would Tali, with a bit of convincing. They know what is at stake Liara; something you've failed to contemplate. You were willing to let people get murdered just to take down the Shadow Broker; what makes this war any different, hmmm?"

"I..." she replied, shaking her head, "You can't just gamble with people's lives!"

"And you can't pretend that I'm fucking God!" he growled, poking a finger in her chest, "I can't fucking save every goddamn person in the galaxy! I'm going to have to make choices that'll end families, kill husbands and wives, and possibly end the futures of children. But if it means I save the galaxy, then I might just be able to sleep, knowing what I did. Its something that'll always haunt me, but do you think I'll like it? If you assume that I do these things and like it, you've seriously got your head screwed the wrong way. You know me better than that. You fought beside me against Saren, for godsake."

"Yes, I do know you," she replied, almost in a whisper, "I know you would always look for another way. You wouldn't just go straight for the throat without a single other thought."

"I had time then. Time to think," with a final glance in her direction, he turned and began to leave, "We're out of time, and decisions are needed now. Come on, we've got to keep moving or we'll miss the meeting altogether."

Zaeed and Jentha moved past Liara, and the asari sighed, moving to catch up, unwilling to remember what Marcus had just said.  _This war has already changed him, and its barely started. Or was it Aratoht that changed him?_ She was beginning to think it was. The destruction of three hundred thousand must have been really hard on him.  _And now he's closing himself off, piece by piece, and becoming the cold man I see now. Goddess, please don't stoop to that level..._

She finally caught up to him, and just as Marcus and the group reached four Blue Suns troopers: one turian, three batarians. All of them carried vindicator battle rifles, and one batarian had his blue tech armor activated, all four sending Zaeed glares. Marcus knew there was a column of Blue Suns loyalists behind them and ready to back them up, but Vosque's separatists were an unknown variable. He had no idea how many there were.

And, with a shift in his cold expression, realized he didn't care. They would all die equally if they got in the way of this alliance.  _Enough mister nice guy._

"We know why you're here, Massani," the batarian in tech armor growled, "Better leave right now, before we comm Vosque and tell him your here. I'm sure he'd love a nice exchange of bullets. Maybe he'll finish the job Santiago started."

"Move aside, blink, or I'll pop you a new hole," the mercenary spat, moving to stand next to Marcus' left, who stood there like a statue, finger fumbling at the magnetic clamp holding his shotgun, "I'm not in the mood to be yanked around, and this little rebellion will gain you nothing. I took control for one reason; to help fight Reapers."

"We fight for money, not for politicians. Or did you forget that when you took control, Massani?" the batarian laughed, "Your fucked. Fuck the Reapers, and fuck you and your cause. Drag the rest of the Blue Suns to death, but do not bother involving us. Now leave, or we'll open fire."

A dark laugh was their only reply, and the four Blue Suns could only watch as the batarian in tech armor was wrapped in biotic fire and thrown across the bridge and into the water, where his armor dragged him under and began to drown him. The rest became tense and all of them eyed Shepard, who's eyes were full of malice.

"You were given one chance to not get in my way. I'm done talking," he raised his shotgun and fired, blasting the head clean off the turian's shoulders, causing the other two to open fire, "Now you die."

A biotic lash wrapped around one of the batarians and pulled him towards Liara, who had an SMG waiting. Once he was within range, she fired two bursts, which split his belly and killed him, and the asari dropped him on the bridge like a ragdoll. Zaeed strode forward, his avenger ripping into the last batarian's back, who had tried to run away, but had simply been gunned down. The merc turned to Marcus, who strode forward once more, like an emotionless robot, "What the fuck turned you into such a goddam hardass?"

The N7 didn't even respond, simply ignoring Zaeed as he marched forward, the man willing them forward without so much as a word. Zaeed got the hint and moved forward, shouldering his rifle, while Jentha took up his rear, giving Liara a quizzical gaze as she moved. Liara simply shrugged and followed, the column of Blue Suns soldiers marching down the bridge behind them.

As they approached, they heard words being exchanged by Vosque and Aria, and Marcus could overhear Vosque's response; the man's voice was croaky and slimy, like that of a man you knew you couldn't trust, "-that's the condition."

"We all have our little delusions," Aria spat, Marcus easily recognizing the asari's harsh tone and equally harsh words, "But if you seriously fucking think I'm crawling into bed with you just so I can guarantee your support, you can seriously go throw yourself out an airlock. I'll get your support, with you alive, or not."

_Sounds just like Aria._

As he moved around the corner, he came within view of the argument. On the left was a squad of Blue Suns soldiers, all holding assault rifles and shotguns, while one held a grenade launcher. Turians, humans, batarians. Before them was a man in Blue Suns armor, with no helmet, and his SMG holstered on his hip; his scalp was shaved and bald, and he had hazel green eyes, with a crooked smile that just oozed perversion. The man made him sick to look at, and Marcus knew upon looking that  _he_ was Darner Vosque.

Aria stood on the other side, still wearing her customary white battle jacket, black leggings and anyone would recognize her heavily tattooed face from a smile; her glare so menacing, it could melt steel. Around her stood her bodyguards; he recognized Bray, but the others were unknown to him, and behind her were her numerous, unmarked mercenary gang members. And they seemed fewer in number.

Vosque chuckled, shaking his head, "Trust me, you'll want me alive; Massani will soon be dead, and the Suns will be mine once more. They'll follow my command unconditionally, especially with the promise of more credits. And with your recent failure to keep Omega in your grip, I don't think they'll be very inclined to follow you. You need me, and that disgusts you, I understand that. But I also love it. You'll bed me, hell, you'll fuck me, if it gains my support. Is that not why you're here, begging me? Why, otherwise, would the great and oh so fearsome Aria T'Loak, be begging me here, in the middle of the Citadel?"

_"...failure to keep Omega in your grip..." Okay, now that's definitely peaked my interest. But what does he mean by that? How the hell did she lose Omega? She basically had an iron grip on that station._

Aria's response, as could be expected, was less polite, "I swear, if you stare at my tits  _one more time_ , I'm going to have to fucking kill you. I will not fuck you, I will not bed you, and I sure as hell won't even suffer your breath on my face. Join me, or I'll find somebody to replace you."

A loud chuckle sounded, and all three of them, yes, including Marcus, whorled around to watch Zaeed casually walk down the steps casually, rifle before him and a haunty smile on his face, "Funny, that last sentence was the same thing I said to Vosque before he decided to go goddam AWOL on me. And now, I plan on doing just that."

Vosque looked at him with a widening grin, "Massani, I see you've finally come to speak with me personally? Good, now I get to kill you and take over."

"You?" Zaeed snorted, "I've got a few matches and some gasoline for what I'm going to do with your corpse, Vosque, so I'll be worried of what you do to me when I join you in hell," he turned to Aria, still smiling, "Sorry bitch, but a man's got to deliver payment, and this goddam cunt has alot of pay coming."

"Zaeed fucking Massani, you better back off!" Aria forewarned, "I will not let this meeting be ruined by you."

"And why's that?" he replied, waving a hand at Vosque, "Because you need my Suns? You need my fucking troops? All you had to do Aria was come to me, instead of going behind my back and negoitating with this cunt. Hell, I already promised the Suns to Shepard to fight his war, didn't I, Shepard?"

All eyes glided up to land on the figure currently moving down to join Zaeed, quickly joined by Jentha and Liara at his side. Arriving at Zaeed's side, his hands clasped behind his back as he replied, "That's correct, Zaeed. I need the Blue Suns to fight the Reapers, as I need you, Aria. And the Terminus Systems."

"Well Shepard, didn't expect to see you here," Aria stated with a scowl, "Just wish you weren't interrupting my fucking moment. I need Vosque."

"For what? The Suns? Weren't you listening to Zaeed?" he growled, taking a step further towards the asari crime lord, "He controls  _four fifths_ of the entire Blue Suns organization, while Vosque controls  _one._ And Zaeed knows the stakes of what's going on; he knows you need them to fight the Reapers, as I do."

"I don't want them to fight the fucking Reapers!" she replied, "I want them so I can take my fucking station back from the Cerberus cunts who stole it from me!"

That right there stopped him in his tracks.  _Cerberus took Omega from Aria? How the fuck did the Illusive Man manage that? And why the hell would they need Omega for? Just what is timmy up to..._

"As interesting as this is," Vosque murmured, "Its really time for me to take my leave. I've got a ship waiting in port; goodbye Aria. Hopefully we can do business again in the near-"

Marcus whorled on him with lightning speed, watching him try to take off in his skycar. His face became that of a horrifying monster, and noone would saw it behind his helmet would be able to withstand looking into those feral eyes for more than two seconds.  _Oh no you fucking don't._ Lighting up with biotics, he whorled forward like the speed of light, a lance of dark energy charging out and striking the ascending skycar's engines, sending it out of control.

Vosque, with the door still open, was sent flying from the canopy as the skycar smashed into the ground, broke through the railing, and landed straight in the water, sinking to the bottom, smoke trailing for but a moment before dying. Vosque landed face first on the pavement, and he landed with a thud, crying out in pain as he likely broke his nose from the impact. Marcus marched over to him, and noone dared move as he tore his helmet off and threw it onto the ground, malicious intent in his eyes.

Vosque coughed and sputtered as Marcus descended upon him like an angry vulture. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking him up from the ground before slamming his face back into the ground, further harming his nose, and causing Vosque to howl in agony. He cried out for his troops to do something, but they simply did nothing and watched with horror as their commanding officer was beaten by the galaxy's hero.

Red blood coated the ground when Marcus picked him up again, and this time moved over and slammed his face into a wall, this time repeating it six times. Satisfied that enough of the wall had been coated red, he watched the man's fluttering eyes, he dropped him and looked down on him, shaking his head.

"You could have joined me and Zaeed, but you didn't. You chose to resist," Marcus hissed with anger, "You were offered a chance to stand beside the galaxy in a common goal. You chose to resist. Here is the price for your incompetence."

"No...please...I beg of you," he spat blood out from his mouth as his breathing became ragged, "...I'll fight for...you...have mercy..."

He got to say no more as Marcus lifted his foot and then let it descend with incredible velocity, landing on the man's neck and smashing it, crushing his trachea with one death stroke. The man coughed and gurgled, desperately trying to garner some oxygen, but was unable to find any, and was offered no mercy on that particular aspect. He choked for a few seconds, suffocating, and then suddenly it was over, and Vosque's body lay motionless before him, eyes gazing up at him emptily. Instead of closing them, Marcus rolled his body over with his foot and then moved to face the Blue Suns group before him, anger still burning in the pits of his eyes, which might as well have been hell itself.

"Take a good hard look at his body," he growled, "Because that's what I do to people who get in my way. I will not allow leniency to affect me anymore; you either stand by me, or get swept aside, but do  _not_ _ **get in my way.**_ The Reapers will wipe out all life in the galaxy, including your own. Even now, our homeworlds are being besieged. Khar'Shan and Earth has fallen, and it won't be long before they target Sur'Kesh and Palaven," he addressed the turians in the group, "Don't ask for credits, because you won't get any. Don't demand glory, because there's none waiting for you. Don't fight for women or love or a chance to survive, cause the likelihood is, there won't be any when this is over," he crossed his arms, "Fight for the galaxy. Fight for the very continuity of your  _species._ Because in the end; mercenary, thief, engineer, politician, it doesn't matter...we're all soldiers now. And you  _will_ do your duty to protect this galaxy. We fight or we die. Remember that. Now, anyone else like to follow Vosque's example?"

There was no answer. Only dead silence, a dozen pairs of eyes locked onto him with pure trepidation, and he nodded, turning back to his group.  _I'm not asking for loyalty; no, I already have that from the squad that I care for. From the brother I watch over. From the wife I cherish. No, I need them to fear me enough to never question me. To show them that if they fear me now, they'll be pissing themselves over the Reapers._

Marcus could see the narrowed eyes of Liara trying to plunge into the depths of mind, trying to find out what was wrong with him, but knew he was safer that she didn't know. Zaeed looked impressed, while Jentha looked utterly surprised at the brutal killing of the man. Aria looked unfazed, still annoyed over having the meeting interrupted, but one thing was certain; the whole room was silent.

He came to stand before Zaeed, "There you go Zaeed; Vosque is dead, and the Blue Suns are all yours again."

The man nodded, whistling, "You made it look fucking easy, Shepard. As you always do. You did a fine job of killing Vosque's ass, too. But you're right; now the Blue Suns are completely mine, I officially promise the whole goddam organization to you," he snapped a fake salute, and his face looked reluctant in the action, "Call me, or any one of my commanders, and they'll send troops wherever you need 'em. And when the final battle comes, you can expect us all to be there, in full force."

Marcus thanked him with a shake of his head, waving away the forced salute. His hand firmly gripped Zaeed's before shaking it and then pulling away again, "You sure you can't join the Normandy again, Zaeed? I need every able-bodied soldier I can get my hands on."

The man laughed, "That's exactly why I can't join. Someone has to lead the Suns, Shepard, and I ain't leaving it up to my fuckwit commanders; I need Jentha leading the Citadel division, and I certainly ain't leaving it up to my batarian commander, Marath. Hell, not even Palisus," he sighed, something that was odd for the mercenary, "No more goddam adventures for me, Shepard. The time for me being a big, goddam hero is over. Now I've got to play military general, and you need your troops organized and ready. But I will see you on the battlefield someday. We'll blow all those Reaper cunts to hell, and I can finally retire somewhere tropical. Maybe a big, fucking beach."

"You? Retire?" Marcus quipped, a smirk on his face as he shook his head, fury melting from his eyes, "That's something I'd like to see, Massani."

"There's always a day where you get too fucking old for people's shit," the merc quipped, "I think this war will finally be the end of the road for me. Or maybe I'll create my own mercenary organization; and then sit back and let my commanders lead it. Now that sounds like a goddam plan," he shook his head, giving Jentha a nod, "Well, I'd better make a run for it, Shepard. C-Sec's going to be all kinds of pissed to see all this fucking blood on their floor, and even more pissed to that cunt's mangled trachea. Plus, I've got to get my troops off this station and back to Zorya."

Just as Zaeed turned to leave, Jentha came to stand infront of him, holding out her hand for him to shake, "In the short time I've gotten to be alongside you, Shepard, its been an honor. I hope we meet again in the near future."

He nodded, smiling at the merc, "Indeed. I would hope so too, Jentha. Try not to get killed anytime soon."

She laughed, "In this line of work, its hard to do so, but I'll see what I can do. When this is all over, I'll buy you a drink. Cheerio." And with that, Jentha walked over to lead her new Blue Suns squad back to their Citadel base of operations, while Zaeed moved to lead his unneeded troops back to their ship, and off to Zorya. The brief reunion with the merc had been unpleasant, but at least it had been something.

 _Haven't seen much of my old SR-2 crew since meeting Kaidan again. God I miss them. Not just Tali or Garrus; I miss all of them. Grunt's violent nature, Legion's logical reasoning, Samara's calm stature, Miranda's skeptical doubts, Kasumi's mischief, Jack's cussing...damn it, I miss all of it. Mordin's rapid speech about shit I don't understand, Joker's...well, jokes, EDI's attempts to grasp humor, Thane's cool demeanour, everything. What I'd do to have the whole crew together again._ He sighed, remembering the people he wanted at his side the most. The people he trusted without question.  _I miss Wrex's boasting, Garrus' smartass remarks and Tali's...what don't I miss about her? Her touch, the look of her eyes, her warm hugs, her adorable possessiveness, her cute mannerisms, all of it. At least I have Liara. I can trust her._ He looked at the asari, not allowing his emotion to play out on his face.  _But those days over, and now we're at war._ _ **Real**_ _war._

He turned to look at Zaeed, who was in the process of leaving as he spoke loudly to the mercenary, causing him to halt and turn to face him, "Zaeed, we haven't had much of a chance to talk."

"Haven't had much time to talk. You know, killing Vosque and everything," the merc replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "Why?"

"Let's make time," he brought up his omni-tool, located Zaeed's contact on his contact list, and sent him a message specifying the time to meet him, "I'll meet you in the Dark Star Lounge; exchange some words over some drinks. I haven't seen any of my old crew except Kaidan and Liara, and the former is hospitalized. It'd be nice catchin' up; if you're not too busy."

"I've got goddam mercs to take back to Zorya," Zaeed persisted, before finally giving in, "Fine, Dark Star it is. We'll talk about being big fucking heroes, and how we'll be toasting our dead brethren over the pools of blood of our enemies."

Marcus grimaced, "That's...dramatic. And just a tad horrifying."

"If you're not used to it now, don't bother. I ain't no fuckin softie," the merc cursed turning to leave, "I'll see you later, Shepard."

Marcus gave him a curt nod, before turning to address Aria, "As for you Aria, I honestly don't know what to say apart from; what the fuck are you doing on the Citadel? I thought you hated this place."

"If I had a dozen nuclear devices, I'd have a few choice places I'd put them, yes," Aria growled, clenching her fists in and out, "But recent...events, have forced my hand. I now find myself living on this hellhole of a station, and I have to live with it until I can take mine back."

 _'Hellhole of a station?' Funny, I said the same thing about Omega, Aria. When it comes to aesthetics, not to mention overall safety, the Citadel wins, everytime._ "Yes, I heard a few choice parts about that. Want to tell me just how you lost your space station to Cerberus? Omega's a pretty big station."

"Maybe I'll discuss it with you later. Right now, I've got to find a place to bunker down. I've heard Purgatory night club is similiar enough to Afterlife," sighing, she turned to her men, practically growling at them to get back to her skycar, "We'll talk later, Shepard. You'll know where to find me; if not, you'll just have to sit down and fucking wait."

Despite himself, he found himself smirking, "I'll see that I do. Afterall, you're currently on the top of my priority list in terms of making an army."

"And maybe I'll help you. Maybe I won't. Whatever gets my fucking station back," she hissed, waving a dismissive hand and turning around, her footsteps hard and brutal as she left, "I'll see you later,  _Shepard._ "

 _What's with all the 'see you laters?' I swear, I'm part of the 'see you later' club at the moment, and the number of members are piling up._ He turned back to Liara, motioning to where they came from, "Come on, let's head back to the Normandy. I've got to get out of his armor and get to the Dark Star Lounge. And before you ask, no, I don't want an escort. I can look after myself."

"How did you-?" Liara began to ask, surprised.

"Because the murderer of Aratoht just happens to be on a space station that is currently housing thousands of batarian refugees," he rubbed the back of his neck with an armoured glove, inhaling and exhaling, "I'll bring my SMG if it makes you happy, but I can look after myself. That and my biotics will keep any fanatics from trying to kill me. I'll be fine."

"Its not angry batarians I'm worried about," she stated, coming to stand infront of him, holding out a hand on his chest, urging him to stop. As he did, his eyes met hers, and hers were full of steel conviction, "Its you. The way you killed Vosque was...brutal...and that's putting it mildly. What has gotten into you? And don't lecture me about 'the war' because that does not excuse how you treated that man! I know he was scum, but the Marcus Shepard I know would never kill a man so...barbarically!"

 _Maybe I was being alittle overkill, but I needed to make a point._ His face cringed and twisted into a look of irritation, "Your right; that man  _was_ scum. He was also  _in my way_  and I have made it abundantly clear that people who get in my way don't get fair treatment. Besides, I needed to make an example. I can't afford to have people love me anymore; if I need them to fear them to serve the purpose I need of them, then so be it, I'll do it. I'll sacrifice everything I have, including my morals, if it means winning this war."

 _Including myself._ He shuddered at the thought, but he did not let Liara see it. She would only exploit his momentary weakness.

"So you brutally kill people who get in the way of your objectives?" she hissed, looking at him, before snorting, "What if one of us got in your way, did you think of that? What would Garrus think? Would you kill Tali if she-"

" _Enough_ ," his voice was steel, unwavering, his eyes pure frost as he met her eyes. He knew she had been building up to that, and he was almost at breaking point. The reason for that was because she was right. He wouldn't kill Tali if she got in his way; hell, he'd probably listen. And there's where the hypocrisy lay for him. He would kill anyone who got in his way, but his own squad? He couldn't even comprehend coming to lay harm on them.  _And the fact I hate to admit is...it might just come to that._ "We're returning to the ship, Liara. This conversation is over."

He moved to leave, but she held firm, her eyes glaring into his, "We're going nowhere until we've settled this."

"I am giving you an  _order,_ " he growled, "Remove your hand, or I shall remove it myself, Liara."

The ice in his tone made her feel as if she was talking to a completely different person, and without a thought, she removed her hand, letting him pass by her. She hadn't even realized he was gone until he was on the bridge. Turning, she watched him cross the bridge before slowly moving to join him, shock and terror in her eyes.

_Just what has happened to Marcus Shepard?_

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1400 hours._

_Dark Star Lounge, Level 28, Zakera Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani._

"I was actually wondering if you'd show up," Zaeed murmured behind him as he sat on the stool before the counter, "Consider me goddam surprised."

Marcus gave a brief huff of acknowledgement, bringing the bottle of beer he held in his hand to his lips and taking a short sip, cringing at the bitter taste. Unimpressed with the taste, he placed it back on the counter, watching Zaeed take a seat next to him on a nearby stool. The turian bartender turned to him instantly, nodding at the mercenary. Zaeed gave his own brief nod, "Levo whiskey; and none of that cheap shit they give to fucking children. Give me the high-powered stuff; and don't bother with the glass. I'll take the whole bottle."

"That'll cost extra," the turian stated.

"I'm a fucking mercenary. I'm swimming in fucking money," the bounty hunter deadpanned, slamming a credit chit on the bench, "Now just get me my fucking bottle and piss off."

Marcus just shook his head, noting just how much Zaeed hadn't changed. "Glad to know you could come Zaeed," he finally spoke, his voice bitter from both previous events and the taste of cheap beer in his throat, "I thought you'd be too busy."

"Ha!" the man laughed, slapping his shoulder, "Says you; motherfucking Alliance captain, you are. Making alliances, filing paperwork, and running errands for 'superior' assholes. So don't give me the 'thought you were too goddam busy' gag, cause fuck you."

"Calm down old man," he teased, chuckling, "I meant no harm."

"You're a fucking cunt," he cursed, shooting the bartender an annoyed glare as he received his bottle. Getting the point, the turian quickly scampered away, pointedly trying to avoid the merc's eyes, "But a likable cunt, luckily for you."

"I'm flattered," he deadpanned in response, sighing heavily as he simply sat there, both men falling into silence; well, whatever silence you could have with headache-inducing music playing on the dance floor nearby; numerous asari, turians, humans and many other species taking to the dance floor, completely oblivious to the campaign of genocide going on around them, "But on the serious side Zaeed, its good to see you."

"Touche," the merc replied, taking a sip of his bottle of whiskey, giving a sigh of relief from the warm taste, "I'm surprised at how quickly you handled Vosque. Thought you might try to talk him out of it. You know, do that diplomatic shit you do."

The man snorted, shaking his head with distaste, "Ask the Reapers if diplomacy will sway them; maybe we can try and talk them to death. Talking is useful, but its an armada we need, not politicians. I can't afford to talk down people while thousands are dying on Earth and Khar'Shan and all over the galaxy; the time for action is now. Besides, Vosque wasn't going to listen, and persuasion wasn't working. I had to remove him to ensure I had the Blue Suns on the leash," he faced the merc, "They  _are_ on a leash, right? I can't have them disobeying orders, especially in battle."

The man shook his head, "That speech you gave really moved 'em; scared shitless. Swear a smelt piss. Nah, they're about as loyal as they can be; but likely more to their own lives then money, nowadays. Trust me, when you call them to fight some Reapers, they'll ask how many troops you want and how many bullets to bring. It was a goddam risk you took, though. How did you know they'd act like that?"

He sighed, meeting Zaeed's eyes instantly, "Fortune Favors the Bold," he stated, "This war isn't going to be won by tredding carefully; got to take some risks, right? Sacrifice a few planets to save a system, and a few systems for a cluster, and maybe a few clusters for the galaxy? Its a dangerous game we're playing, Zaeed, but I'm confident we'll win it. As for your other question, I didn't. Sometimes you've got to take a shot in the dark and hope you hit something. I hit something, and it just happened to be vital organ, so I feel quite lucky."

Silence fell upon them as they sat quietly for a few moments, sipping their drinks while the ear-ringing music played in the background, and they took in their surroundings. He heard Zaeed whistle from his right, and turned to see what he was looking at, rolling his eyes as he saw a few asari approaching them, their breasts so unnaturally big, they might as well have been pumped full of helium.

He turned to look away, asking the bartender for another round, before handing over his credit chit. The bartender extracted the credits necessary and handed it over just as the asari arrived before them, giggling, Zaeed obviously having called them over.

"Look at them fine pieces of ass and tits," Zaeed guffawed, facing Marcus with a grin, "And they seem eager. Want me to get one for ya?"

He rolled his eyes, not even facing the merc as he took another sip of his drink, "You know I'm not bloody interested."

"No, I didn't. Come on, you fucking gay, Shepard?"

"I'm married, you moron," he growled, turning to Zaeed, "Tali, remember? You can't have forgotten the wedding already. If so, your memory must be fading faster than you are. And even if I weren't, but I'm interested."

"Suit yourself," he grunted back, waving the women off, before turning to face Marcus again, "What the fuck got up your ass? Would it have been different if it had been a few quarians?"

"No," he growled back, finally facing Zaeed with a no-nonsense glare, "I. Am. Married. Full fucking stop. I love Tali, I only love Tali, and that will never fucking change. So drop the bloody subject, Zaeed."

"Whatever. You're such a fucking killjoy," with a heave of effort, the man twisted himself around on his stool, turning to face him again, changing topic as quickly as Marcus had suggested, "Any plans with Aria now that she's on the station?"

 _Good, he changed the subject. I swear, if he had kept pushing for it, I might have socked him. I hate it when people do that. Is a 'happy marriage' that hard to comprehend? Is divorce_ _ **really**_ _that common? Do I look like a fucking apprentice of adultery?_ He nodded, gulping down his drink, "Yeah. For two reasons now; one, to find out what the hell she's doing on the Citadel, and two, to try and arrange an alliance. Once I have Aria's forces, and trust me, I will have them, and yours safely under my belt, I'm going to try and see if I can 'convince' the Eclipse and the Blood Pack to join our cause. Aria basically rules the Terminus, so once she joins us, we'll own all the mercenary companies in existence...in theory."

"Fucking fantastic. You'll have every mercenary in existence as the spine for your armada," he shook his head, scoffing, "I've seen worser foundations."

"Its the best we can do until the Normandy's retrofit is fully completed and we can head to Palaven. Council's not willing to listen, so I'm planning to just hit them individually. First the turians, then the salarians, then the asari. Once they join us, I'll move onto the other races, and then we'll see what we can do from there. Its alot to do, but I'm sure I can do it."

"You seem confident they'll join you," Zaeed stated, "You that confident?"

"No," he deadpanned, "But its the best I got. I'm short on allies, Zaeed. Too short."

"The fuck you mean?" the man replied bluntly, like he always seemed to do, the man simply not caring for personal feelings, "You've got that Liara chick."

"Yeah, I also had Kaidan, and now he's in hospital," he replied just as bluntly.  _I've got to remember to check up on him later. Huerta Memorial was it? I'll check in before we leave for Palaven. I hope he's alright,_ "And even with those two, its still too few. "No Grunt, No Mordin, No Legion, No Wrex, No Samara, No Garrus...hell, Zaeed, not even my own damn wife is there to support me. Like me, she's probably half-way across the galaxy in the ass-end of nowhere, trying to negoitate peace and play politics. I need my friends, Zaeed. I feel fucking useless without my squad. Without my  _team._  Sure, there's James and Keeling, but I barely know them as it is, and they haven't gained my trust just yet, or even the right to be called my friends."

"Do you miss her?" It was a seemingly out of nowhere question, and Marcus took a second to contemplate it, before dumping his bottle on the counter and turning to face the merc.

"What?"

"You fucking deaf?" he replied, moving closer until he was almost in Marcus' face, the man's putrid breath giving evidence to his lack of personal hygiene, "Do you fucking miss her? You do or you don't."

"What kind of a question is that?" he asked rhetorically, but seeing Zaeed's unwavering response, waved his arms in the air, "Of course I fucking do! Jesus Zaeed, everytime I close my eyes all I see...is her. Everytime I sleep, everytime my thoughts wonder. I feel empty and lost without her at my side, and it hurts. Fucking hell, it hurts like a fucking bitch," he slammed his hand on the counter, startling the bartender with its verocity, "And where the fuck is she? I send her a message, and she doesn't even respond? What am I meant to think of that? Is she dead? Is she ignoring me? I don't know what to fucking think! And its killing me...not knowing! Because I can't do anything about it! I'd go out and search for her, but unfortunately for me, I've got a fucking  _Reaper Invasion_ and  _the Galactic Apocalypse_ to deal with! I don't know what to fucking do, and I feel useless because of it!" he entered his rant, relaxing, and sighing in defeat as he sagged against the counter, "I'm lost, Zaeed. I just...I just feel empty. Like I'm just following some preset goal, and when its over, I'll just stop working."

"Sounds like seperation anxiety," Zaeed stated, "Can't say it doesn't sound like romantic bullshit to me, but what you describe sounds alot like that, Shepard. You're fucking attached. You two own each other now, and no matter how much you goddam hate it, its going to be there till the day you fucking die. The need to have her at your side is probably just because of the battlefield comraderie you've forged in combat."

"I'm getting relationship advice from a bounty hunter," Marcus chuckled at that, shaking his head, "I must be desperate."

"But you know I'm goddam right," he stated back, and Marcus slowly nodded his head, staring blankly into the depths of his bottle, just wanting to drink his problems away.  _No, I'm better than that. Besides, thoughts of her make me happy. Reminds me of better times...and the times we could have if we win this war...or if she's even alive...no, those are horrible thoughts; she's not dead. She's alive, and she's out there somewhere, and I will find her eventually. There'll be a time where I'll need to assemble the quarians, and then I can see her. Goddamn it, why does it hurt so much to think of myself in her arms, or her in mine? Why does it hurt so fucking much? Sometimes I hate being married._

"Yeah, you're right. Guess I just needed to vent, and you were the closest person to do it with," he met the man's eyes, "Thanks Zaeed. I know I'll see her again, I just...I need friends at my side, and I've never needed my wife more than I've needed her now."

"Then you'd better hurry up, get the Council races together, and go goddam find her before the war's over," the man took a long swig of his drink, "Or you or her won't be around to enjoy what time we might have left."

_...what time we might have left._

_Sounds like defeat. But I won't surrender. To surrender is to let the Reapers win._

And he'd rather castrate himself then let the Reapers succeed.  _The cycle ends with us._

**"Aria was a tricky stick in the mud. Getting her to join us was easier than I thought, but quite...complex."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"How so?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Let's just say that what she wanted me to do to secure her allegiance benefitted both of us...heavily."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Sorry for the long wait! I've been playing alot of Total War recently, and I recently watched the four hour long movie Gods and Generals, so that's why I haven't been writing. That, coupled with homework, has kept me very busy. Next chapter is coming soon.** _

_**Also, most of you were wrong. Congrats gilmaxter and Myron22 for figuring out the obvious secret; the merc was Zaeed Massani.** _

_**SERIOUSLY? Wrex? Come on guys.** _

_**Chapter 6 comes soon, and will mostly be conversations. Along with some more of Shepard's crew bumping into him.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	7. Stop the Credit Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria offers Shepard the Eclipse and the Blood Pack, but with strings attached.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER SIX:**

**STOP THE CREDIT FLOW**

_June 3, 2186_

_1415 hours._

_Main Entrance, Purgatory Night Club, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Purgatory, what in an insightful place it was. It had the throbbing music of Afterlife, the purple undertone of the Dark Star, and the population of Flux, all in one. But by a glance down below, he knew Purgatory was much bigger than it seemed; levels upon levels of bars, dance floors and more bars littered the coliseum sized structure, and it seemed to cover half a kilometer of land in its total surface area. From what he could see, the dance floor was littered with mostly asari, with the occassional human, turian or salarian dancer. Numerous alliance officers were located at the entrance, and the bar was occupied by even more. All in all, it wasn't that bad of an establishment. If only the music didn't give him such a headache.

Upon entering, he saw that they stood on a large platform that was segregated from the main club by a bridge. On the other side you had three paths; one leading up a flight of stairs to the upper bar and dance floors, off to the left where the lower bar and dance floor was located, and off to the right, where a VIP Lounge was located; a long, L-shaped sofa circumventing the edge of what looked to be a pretty high drop.

Luckily enough for him, finding Aria wasn't all that difficult. She was drapped along said couch; sitted firmly on it with her right arm draped along its edge, looking like she owned the place, whilst commanding an air of ruthless authority. He could see a few C-Sec officers around her, along with an angry looking human female officer, whilst Aria surrounded herself with a few of her mercs; an asari, a salarian, and a batarian. Sitting next to her was another asari, although her interest in whatever situation they were in looked menial at first; if her bored and exasperated expression was any indication.

"Nice place," James pointed out, and both Liara's and Marcus' eyes landed on the bulky marine wearing his casual attire, grinning like an idiot at the scenery around him, "I liked the bar back in Vancouver, but this one takes it to a whole new level."

"Then enjoy," Marcus stated simply, gathering both of his squadmates' confused glances. He decided he needed to ratify that, "I need to talk with Aria, which, really, is only a one man job. You guys wanted to tag along, so I let you, but it doesn't mean I need you for this meeting. So go ahead James, Liara, go have some fun. This meeting might take awhile, considering it's Aria I'm talking with."

"Whatever you say loco," James replied, waving Liara over to the lower bar, "Come on, bluey! I'll get you a drink."

Neither of them moved, merely staring at James. After a second, the marine stopped, turned to face them, and met their confused expressions. He frowned, "What?"

"Loco? Bluey?" Liara and Marcus seemed to say in tandem, "What?"

"Oh...they're just nicknames I gave everybody," James clarified.

"But  _loco?_ _ **Bluey?**_ What kind of nicknames are those?"

James gulped, squaring his shoulders as he seemed to look embarassed, "Well, for one, I call you loco because of all the crazy shit you do, and I call Liara bluey because...well..." he looked at the asari intently for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, because you're blue."

Liara gave an audible sigh before facepalming, while Marcus just snorted, turning to walk away. As he did, James swore he heard the captain mumble, 'I do crazy shit?  _I_ didn't crash a shuttle with perfectly good guns on it into an empty shuttle.  _That's_ crazy.' Before the marine could retort though, the captain was already across the bridge and heading right to the VIP Lounge. Shaking his head, he turned back to Liara, a stupid smirk on his face, "Well,  _bluey,_ want to get a drink?"

Her expression became a mock look of ice, "Call me that again, and I shall flay you alive. With my mind," seeing that James' was as horrified as she wanted him to be, she let a sudden, warm smile cross her face, dispelling the ice from her features and nodded to the bar, "And yes,  _Vega,_ I would like a drink. Care to escort me to the bar?"

Shocked at her sudden changes in emotion, he shook his head from his shock and nodded, waving a hand in the bar's general direction, "Yeah, yeah of course...Liara!"

She giggled, moving to walk past him. As she did, she shook her head, warmth in her eyes as she met James', "Its okay, I was only joking. You can continue to call me bluey if you wish James. Its actually kind of...endearing, oddly enough." With that, she was gone, moving off towards the bar. He merely gaped at her, unable to comprehend her sudden change in moods. With a sigh, he shook his head once more, something he found himself doing far too often, and moved to follow her, long strides closing the distance between them pretty quickly.

_Women._

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1417 hours._

_VIP Lounge, Purgatory Night Club, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Mercenary Leader Aria T'Loak, Technician Ahz, Admiral Jarral, Lieutenant Bray, Mercenary Sata T'Loak._

"So you admit you and your thugs are here illegally?"

Marcus shook his head at the C-Sec officer's words, but merely stood at the edge of the lounge, arms crossed as he watched the exchange taking place. Aria sat on the couch, glaring daggers at the C-Sec officer before her, while also looking slightly amused. Bray looked to be on the point of drawing his weapon, while the salarian was too engaged in his omni-tool to care.

Aria let a ghost of a smile crease the edge of her lips, "Yes, and it only took C-Sec  _three weeks_ to figure that out."

"Excuse me?" The officer took offense, "Are you insulting...?"

"Yes, your fucking high-holiness got insulted. Get used to it, you aren't the friggin princess you think you are. So take your authority, and shove it up your fucking ass, and piss off," Aria growled, "I am swiftly done with C-Sec's padantics, and as fun as it is to see you reddening like a boiling teapot, I really do have war plans to pursue," she turned to face Marcus, their eyes' meeting, "Along with some words to exchange with someone vastly more important than you."

"I don't care who you are," the woman hissed back, clearly losing her temper as she took a step forward, "You're required to submit to processing like all the other refugees. So come with me immediately, or I'll use force."

"You clearly don't know who I am, do you bitch?" Aria hissed, not even bothering to stand, as if the effort shouldn't be wasted on the lowly officer before her, "I'm Aria fucking T'Loak, Ruler of the Terminus. I've killed mercenaries who were more powerful and intimidating then you. Touch me, or my daughter, or any one of my men, and I'll not only rip your arm off, I'll also sugar-coat it, wrap it up and give it back to you for fucking christmas and whatever you humans call that useless holiday of yours. So...fuck you, and fuck you. I'll wipe the floors with you, you fucking whore."

Marcus' widened at that.  _Aria has a_ _ **daughter?**_ _Well there is a surprise._

"I will not be insulted-"

"I just fucking did. So are you going to do something about it, or quack like a fucking duck?" the asari growled back, clearly having enough of this, "Actually, don't answer that, because I won't waste my time. Ahz," she ordered, and the salarians' attention was on her in an instant, "Get me Tevos."

The salarian named Ahz keyed his omni-tool, bringing up a contacts' list. When he found the one he was looking for, he brought it up and turned up the volume on his omni-tool. The voice that came through was easily recognizable to Marcus; it was that of the asari councilor, Tevos, "Aria, I did not expect to hear from you again so soon. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

_Hear from her again so soon? Aria and Tevos have met before? I'll have to ask the councilor about that; Mrs. The Terminus Systems Are Full Of Bad People._

Aria didn't even acknowledge Tevos' existence as a person, merely glaring daggers at the female officer before her, talking to her like she wanted their conversation over with, "I'm being  _asked_ ," she let herself linger on that word with loathing, "to submit to immigration processing."

"I see. Well, let's see," Tevos' words trailed off, before suddenly returning, seemingly after typing something into her terminal, "There. You have been automatically processed, recognized and given instant Citadel citizenship. Is there anything else?" Marcus couldn't help a snort at seeing the officer's face at Tevos' word, like her world had just crashed around her.

Aria saw it, and savoured every moment of it with a smile, "No, that'll be all, Tevos. Thank you." The last two words were clearly her dismissal.

"Any time," Tevos' words lingered as Ahz cut the connection, and lowered his omni-tool, deactivating it as he stood there.

Aria gave the officer a fake, apologetic smile laced with smug undertone as she met her eyes, "Are we done here? Cause I've got alot of fuckin work to do, and I don't need you panting over my shoulder. If you have any quarrels, feel free to complain, and I'll relay them to the Councilor for you."

The officer simply shook her head and signalled the rest to follow her out, and she silently fumed. She shoved past Marcus as he walked towards Aria, who had noticed the grin on his face. The others were less forceful, recognizing him and giving him a free path as he walked by.

As he came to stand infront of Aria, the asari smiled, "Enjoy the show, Shepard?"

He nodded, chuckling, "I guess there's one rule on the Citadel too, huh?"

She laughed at his reference, before the smile dropped away, accompanied by the sound, "It would seem so," she motioned for him to sit, and sit he did, on her left, decidingly liking the comfortability of the couch before him, "I hate this place. So...sickeningly uptight. So pathetically colorful. Repulsively...secure."

The one question he had wanted to ask now came to mind, and he nodded, "So why are you here?" He asked it rhetorically, and Aria knew it. She stood up, coming to stand at the edge of the ledge as she looked down, her voice a low growl, and full of pent up fury.

"Cerberus stole Omega from me," her fists clenched at her side, and she seemed to bristle with a momentary biotic flash of light, "The Illusive Man is now squarely at the top of my  _shit list_."

 _Welcome to the club._ Before he could speak, Aria turned to face him, continuing with her short rant, "He will  _pay_ for every  _fucking second_ I have spent in this bureaucratic hellhole."

Now he got to the meat of the topic, "How did Cerberus defeat you?"

She sighed, shaking her head as she walked back to the couch, sitting down as she spoke, "Deceit, distraction, and a big fuckin army. They attacked my station with Reaper husks called Adjutants, then pretended to aid me and deny all involvement. Their leader lured me away and imprisoned. By the time I escaped, they had already laid siege. I managed to force them to evacuate, but then they threatened to destroy the station if I did not surrender. So I fled...like a fucking retard, I fled, and now Cerberus holds Omega."

He sighed, leaning back, "If it were me, I'd be asking for help, getting that help, and then taking it back."

"I'm glad we think alike," she deadpanned, nodding with agreement, "I will take Omega back, but that, for the time being, is a distant goal I can only entertain. I need to be able to regroup and rally new forces before I can pull off such a thing. Plus, I'll need a big fucking fleet. But that's for later," she turned to look at him, "I know what you're here for, because you certainly did not come here to ask me why I got my fucking ass kicked off my damn station."

"You're right," Marcus stated, also leaning back, crossing his legs, "I need your troops, Aria. You know what's here; the Reapers. They're here, and you know what they want."

"To fuck our cold, dead corpses, if I remember correctly," the asari stated coldly and bluntly, nodding in acknowledgement, "And I know you need my mercs and myself to lead them of course, and I will gladly give them to you. As far as I see it, if you don't stop the Reapers, we're all fucked. Won't matter where I'm sitting. Its...in my interest...to help you."

Marcus wasn't convinced, perking his left eyebrow upwards, "Its also nothing like you to just agree that quickly without something in return, so I know there's a catch to all of this. Name it, and you'll have it."  _I've stooped too low to do anything else now. I'll assassinate the Council and put you in charge if it means getting the troops I need. Besides, you'd probably do a better job than those fuckwits anyway. At least you know what's at stake._

She shook her head, grimacing, "You always were too inquisitive; but you're right. There is a catch, although it benefits the both of us, so its not that bad for you either," she twisted to face him, "My forces will be yours, along with all the ships I recruit, and the army I build. But first, I want the Eclipse and the Blood Pack. How does this benefit you, you ask? Well, what I get, you get, remember? Once the Eclipse and Blood Pack are devoted to me, they will be yours to command along with the rest of my forces. You'll get to kill three birds with one stone, won't you?"

He leaned back, whistling in impression.  _I have to say, she read me like an open book. She knows I want the Eclipse and Blood Pack as well as the Blue Suns, and that securing her and her forces basically ensures I have full control of the Terminus Systems; but the only way I can fully utilize them is to retake Omega; but we'll cross that road when we get there. Try now, Aria is practically offering everything I currently need on a silver platter. Question is, should I take it?_

_Yes of course I should. She knows what I need is what the galaxy needs to win. And that I'm her best option in getting Omega back._

Licking his lips, he responded, "You and I both need the Eclipse and Blood Pack, so you just need to tell me what I need to do to get them under your wing."

"Well, for Eclipse, its quite simple," she stated, "I'm sure you've heard of the Eclipse leader and founder, Jona Sederis?"

His face took on a dark tone, position tightening at the name, "I've...met her before, actually. Undercover work." He remembered meeting the asari at Donovan Hock's party in his mansion last year when he was launching a heist with Kasumi to acquire Keiji's greybox. The woman definitely hadn't been pleasant, and he swore she had been bordering on being a psychopath, "What about her?"

"She was arrested last year on Bekenstein after Donovan Hock's party exploded...literally," she laughed at her joke, before shaking her head, facing him with a determined look in her eyes, "She was deported here by the Bekenstein police force, and is being held by C-Sec in the Presidium Commons. She's being trialled for execution, actually. Apparently the Council aren't as cowardly as we thought," she waved a dismissive hand, "Release her, and because she owes you, she'll follow you."

He widened his eyes at the proposition, "The Executor would never allow that. The woman is fucking insane, and I'm not letting her loose."

"Do you want your fucking army or not?" she hissed, glaring at him, "I don't care what you do with Sederis short of killing her, but just make sure she's in fighting shape, can lead, and is indebted to us. Besides, her being a psychopath might just make her all the better soldier."

 _Or she could be another Vosque._ "Fine; I'll see what I can do to get the executor to release her. What about the Blood Pack?"

"Their leader is a krogan named Weyrloc Ferturk, and he's currently on the Citadel. Apparently he's looking to kill a turian general named Septimus Oraka, and is planning to, the fucking fool he is, assassinate the turian in the middle of the Zakera Ward. Kill him, and put a vorcha named Kreete in command; he's a vorcha, and therefore controlling him will be as easy as pulling the strings on a puppet. If you do that, you will have your mercenary companies under your command, as well as mine. Sound like a deal?"

"You're so full of shit," the asari next to Aria spoke finally, and all eyes landed on the asari, who lay there with her arms crossed.

Aria glared at her with vicious intent, "The fuck did you say, bitch?"

"Oh, you heard me. Don't play the dumb cunt," the daughter raged, standing up in fury, "Getting people to do your dirty work like you always do. And then ordering him to kill one person, and release another. Why don't you just do it your fucking self?"

"Listen here you fucking brat," Aria spat, "You'll sit your ass down right-"

"Oh, fuck you mother!" Sata yelled, practically spitting in the asari's face, "Dad told me you were a ruthless bitch, and I know it for certain. You always get people to do your dirty work for you, and now you don't have a space station, and you're just going to use Shepard to get it back. I'm almost insulted to have grown from your womb."

"Yeah, well fuck you!" Aria shouted back, waving at the doorway, "I don't care! You were a fucking accident, a mistake, something I will always regret! Your father was a fucking traitor and wasn't even there when I needed her; so why the fuck should I respect her child? Get out of my sight."

"Gladly," Sata cursed her, and stormed from the lounge, leaving in a frenzied storm of rage without even looking back at once. Marcus just sat there, glancing between the retreating Sata and Aria with rapidfire glances, shocked by the exchange he just saw.  _No child deserves to be called an accident. That was just cruel, even for Aria. But who was the father? No, better not ask that. Aria looks pissed off enough as it is. Best leave it be._ Having decided to take his leave, he stood up and moved to back away.

"Thank you for the information Aria," he said, remaining his professional self, "I'm going to go to C-Sec Headquarters and hopefully get Sederis released. I want this over with."

Aria waved a dismissive hand, merely looking at the ground with a dejected look, "Yes, of course, whatever. Just make sure I get my mercs."

Turning away, his face became ice once more as he approached the bar, where James apparently was telling Liara a joke, as the asari could be seen laughing. His thoughts landed on Aria's parting words, and he grimaced slightly, knowing he could not do it, but he would get it another way.  _Releasing Sederis is unacceptable, even as leader of the Eclipse. But that doesn't mean she won't have a replacement._ He nodded, as if agreeing with his own thoughts as he arrived at the bar, taking a seat next to James on his right.  _I'll find her second-in-command and talk to him. If I can gain his loyalty, then I will release Sederis...but not to freedom._

He cringed, knowing what he must do to prevent her escape. He knew Aria, and he needed to make sure a person like Sederis never saw freedom's light.  _No, I will execute Sederis myself. She's a scumbag, a psycho, and wouldn't hesitate at murdering innocents or stabbing me or Aria in the back if she got the chance. No, I'll have her assassinated. But C-Sec will never buy into that, so I'll need to make Sederis believe she's been freed. I won't be able to take her out myself; people might believe I was behind it. So that means I need someone else to do it...to snipe her..._

_Zaeed. He hasn't yet left the Citadel._

_Just one more favor, you old bastard. One more._

"Loco?" James' voice suddenly derailed his train of thought, forcing him to look at the marine, "You alright?"

He inhaled and exhaled, nodding as he did, "Yes; just going over Aria's words," he turned to Liara, "Liara, when we return to the Normandy, could you pull up the Eclipse database and get me the name of Jona Sederis' second-in-command? Aria wants me to release Sederis, but I can't risk unleashing her upon the public, so I need to take my chances with whoever is next on the chain."

She nodded, smiling, "Of course, Shepard. Whatever you need." She quickly brought up her omni-tool, and got to work. He didn't object, and merely nodded as the bartender gave him his drink, and he took a long sip.

"So what did you get from Aria, loco?" James asked, sipping his own drink, "Any useful intel we can use?"

Marcus merely shook his head.

"No James we don't," he declared, "None is needed."

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1435 hours._

_C-Sec Outpost, The Presidium Commons, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

The Presidium Commons was crowded today, Marcus thought. Crowds of people went back and forth, going about their daily lives, while skycars whizzed by up ahead, and the artificial sun of the colossal space station beamed brightly up above. Marcus pushed on through them, deciding he would have time to enjoy the scenery later when he had the time.  _I have no time. All that time must be devoted to finding ways to destroy the Reapers. Until Hackett relays anything concrete on this superweapon, we have to rely on old conventional firepower, and hopes it sustains us. And then hope to God that the superweapon is the hope we're looking for._

He wore his casual attire; the Alliance had forwarded him some credits, but he hadn't needed to spend it on clothes, because apparently Hackett had gone to the trouble of retrieving his old clothes. So instead he had bought back his Terminus Armor, along with a new assault rifle; a mattock heavy rifle, similiar in model to Garrus', but with a golden tint to it; and it was a much better choice than that shitty avenger, anyway. And it was good knowing he had his Terminus armor back.

But now he moved through the Presidium, unarmoured except for the clothing he wore, and the Locust SMG strapped to his side. He kept his N7 cap tilted so people wouldn't go peeking to see who he was, and moved forward with determination, pushing through the large crowds. Vidscreens nearby relayed news on the war effort, which was apparently looking pretty bleak. Images of Earth and Khar'Shan usually accompanied the reports, along with a reporter spouting 'dramatic dialogue' to accompany it. Hell, he might have been imagining it, but he swore he heard the word 'Reaper' mentioned.

He entered a long corridor, and then turned left onto the main Commons, and just in time as well, as he watched a C-Sec squad of armoured SWAT troopers move past him. Nodding to the commander of the unit, Marcus steadily moved past them and moved down the stairs and towards the C-Sec Outpost which, thankfully, was not that far away. He also knew that a certain mercenary's crosshairs were likely hovering over him at that current moment.

He had managed to catch Zaeed just as the bounty hunter was preparing to leave the Citadel, asking him for one last favor. The mercenary nodded, and was glad at the chance to eliminate some of his 'compeitition.' The man now rested on the other side of the Presidium, likely prone, his Incisor Sniper Rifle extended before him and aimed down at Shepard, ready to cover him. With a quick glance over at that 'other side,' Marcus had to whistle. The other side was at least a kilometer over the main lake that seperated the two sides of the Presidium ring itself. That was quite a distance.

Finally, Marcus reached the C-Sec outpost, finding its entrance to be guarded by two officers, both of them turians, and armoured from head to toe in medium combat armor, and wielding vindicator battle rifles. Upon moving inside, he gave both of them a brief nod, and then moved within its confines. The outpost itself wasn't very big; it was square in shape, and at least four meters long and wide. A couch sat on the left, along with another along the right wall, with a bench infront of it. In the upper left corner was a desk, where the supervisor obviously sat; datapads were stacked on his desk, with anothe turian C-Sec officer sitting behind it, and looking incredibly stressed by the amount of work dumped upon him. Vidscreens hung on the wall behind him; security cameras from inside the the numerous cells of the outpost.

Adjusting his cap, he moved over to the officer's desk, coming to brace against it, which gained the officer's attention. Looking up, he met the man's eyes and nodded, leaning back, "Ah, hello sir. How may I help you?"

"I'm here to release one of your prisoners," Marcus declared, motioning to the door at the back, which was currently locked with a red holopanel, "One of high importance."

"I don't believe you have the authorization to do that sir," the turian stated, narrowing his eyes at the human, "Only the Executor or the Commander on the Presidium can authorize a release of a prisoner, or one of the Councilors and/or one of their spectres."

"Then that sorts that, doesn't it?" Pulling up his omni-tool, bringing up his old credentials and practically shoving the display in the man's face, "I'm Spectre Marcus Shepard, and I'm here to authorize the release one of your prisoners."

The man looked at them, nodding, and Marcus mentally sighed in relief, glad the man hadn't decided to check if his credentials were up to date and he brought up his terminal display, looking back at Marcus as a prompt. The N7 nodded with an exhale, "Jona Sederis is her name."

The man's eyes widened for a second, and he seemed to freeze at the command, just looking at him. Marcus chuckled, somehow amused by the fear in his eyes.  _Believe me, I know,_ "I know she's insane, but she's of high priority to the Council, and I need her alive and able to lead to be of any use."

The man nodded slowly, before turning away and looking at his terminal, inputting the commands he was given. With a silent, unnoticed nod of consent, Marcus stood up and crossed his arms as he came to face the door. He heard the turian giving orders to one of the cell guards to release Sederis, but Marcus didn't hear the words; all he could think of was if what he was about to do was right.  _You didn't hesitate with Vosque, so why hesitate now? Sederis is dangerous, and you can't seriously let her live just because you want the Eclipse. You've already secured the deal with Sayn; kill Sederis and the Eclipse are yours. Just be done with it._ Sayn was Sederis' second-in-command, and a salarian at that, but he wasn't without merit. He had been initially scared of the wrath Sederis would wreak on him if he did assume control, but at the assurance that she wouldn't be around to do anything like that, he took control immediately, saying that the Eclipse was Aria's to own, and in turn, his to command. He just had to rid the world of Sederis; and now he was here.

After a few moments, the door shot open, and out came a grinning Jona Sederis, followed by the poking avenger assault rifle of the C-Sec cell guard. Pulling out his SMG, he gave a nod to the officer, letting him know he had this. Nodding, the man saluted, one Marcus returned, before entering the cell block again, door locking behind him. Sederis was just as he remembered her; face pale, teeth milky white, and a look so amusingly feral it disgusted him to the core. If there was ever a definition of bloodthirsty psycho, it was seen in the face of the Eclipse founder and leader.

_Ha. Come to think about it, I think I've killed all the main mercenary company founders. Technically Zaeed killed Vido, but I did help catch him, and I killed Weyrloc Guld of the Blood Pack, and now I'm about to kill Sederis. I guess I could be called the 'founder-killer.' Actually, that sounds like a oxymoron. Oh, fuck it. Who cares anyway?_

The asari, dressed in casual attire, approached Marcus, swinging her hips from side to side. Her breasts were of ample size, and she was quite attractive by asari standards, but all he saw was a woman he was about to have sniped.  _Who cares? She's a murderer. How many people has she brutally killed just for the promise of credits? You're doing the galaxy a favor._

"Well hello there," Sederis swooned, laughing drunkenly, "Have we met before? I'm glad you released me, its about time I got out. I've alot to do; heads will roll. I don't like it when people...fuck with me."

"Yes we have," he practically hissed, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her out into the open Presidium to give Zaeed a clear shot. The mercenary wouldn't fire unless he got the signal, which Marcus needed to give before he could end Sederis' life. The asari growled at the contact and ripped free of his grip just as they got outside, causing him to spin to face her, ice in his look. She returned it in full, and her look was feral; like something off a rabid beast.

"Who the fuck are you to presume to touch me?" she hissed, throwing a hand at him in a dismissive gesture, "Do I need to add you to my list of people to fucking kill? Because I've barely known you, and I already want you dead."

 _Believe me, you wouldn't last five seconds. And that's without Zaeed in the picture._ He could imagine his sights landing on Sederis' forehead at that moment, just waiting for the signal to shoot and splatter her brains along the pavement. He fixed Sederis with a look of frosty reckoning, not backing down from the bitch before him, "Threats won't be doing you any good, Sederis. I thought you'd be alittle more warm to the person who just busted your ass out of prison."

"Could have done it myself eventually," Sederis spat, moving towards the stairs, but stopping as she whorled to face him, "I don't need you, whoever the fuck you are. Seriously, who are you? Cause you look awfully fucking familiar."

"Like I said, someone you met, but don't know," he replied.

"What are you, fucking retarded? Just give me freakin answer before I reduce you to a pile of dog shit," her biotics bloomed around her body, and she stood forward into battle stance.

He rolled his eyes, bringing his own biotics to bear as he barely moved an inch, "Like I also said; threats won't do you any good. I'm a Spectre, not to mention top of my class in special forces, which means I could deck you in the space of a couple of seconds and not even think twice about it. You're a fucking merc, and therefore mean nothing to me. The only reason you're even out of jail is so I could deal with you personally."

"Spectre...?" she trailed off, eyes widening in a brief moment of shock, before it became ice again, her teeth clenced and bared, growling like an angry dog, "Well Commander Shepard, it is a pleasant surprise. What does the great commander what this lowly pit of scum?"

"Its  _Captain_ Shepard now," he hissed, "And your only use is the Eclipse. But I guess I don't really need you anymore."

"You need the Eclipse? I founded the Eclipse. I  _own_ them. I am their leader," Sederis spat at his feet, "You think I'm scared of you? You want my Eclipse? Well fuck you, because you aren't getting them. Actually, I'd grab your quarian slut and start running, because I'm going to hunt you down, and I will kill both of you. Noone fucks with me, some Spectre fuckwit or otherwise."

He ignored the insult and implied threat towards Tali, knowing they were moot and answered with steel, "I don't need your permission to take control of the Eclipse, Sederis. I already have control of them."

"Fuck you," Sederis growled, shoving her middle finger in his face before spatting in his face. She closed his eyes and mouth, using a hand to casually wipe away her saliva from his face and splash it on the ground. Many people had gathered around, watching the exchange quietly, and even the guards at the outpost had been roused, "You think because you released me that I'm going to just blindly pledge fealty to you? Well go fuck a varren, because that ain't happening. I will wreak just revenge for my imprisonment, and I will start with you."

"Who said I needed you to have the Eclipse?" he shook his head, wiping away the remains of her spit and casually wiping it on his sleeve, "Any dickhead can lead a bunch of tech-wannabes in yellow armor. Take your second-in-command, Sayn, for instance. He seems like a reasonable man, more rational than you for instance, and with him in command, he's assured me complete control of the Eclipse, and all on one guarantee."

"Sayn? Are you fucking serious?" She laughed, shaking her head, pointing a finger at him, "You're a good joker, Shepard. Sayn is a weak-willed toady; he'll never fuck with me, he knows better. Nice try," she grinned at him evilly.

He resisted the urge to grin back in equal measure, and stood firm, "You see, that's what Sayn was worried about. But when I said I'd take care of the problem, he seemed much more willing to help me. You see Sederis, he won't need to fuck with you, because you won't be around to fuck with."

Her eyes widened once more, but she forced them to narrow, her breathing becoming more menacing, "Are you...threatening me? What part of 'noone fucks with me' didn't you get? Fuck you! You aren't even armed!"

"You must be pretty blind," he pulled out his Hurricane SMG and levelled it at Sederis' face, shaking his head, "Its over Sederis. You know that; don't make this any harder than it has to be."  _She'll knock my SMG aside with her biotics, but that's why Zaeed's here. Enough playing around; let's end this._

"I'll kill you Shepard!" She yelled out, lashing out with a biotic attack that knocked away his weapon wielding arm, just as he predicted and she began to charge forward, wreathed in biotic light, "I'll kill you, then I'll kill your fucking suit-rat, then-"

He turned to the other side of the Presidium and gave the thumbs up. Sederis simply kept charging, and he spared her one last glance.

The next second, her head exploded as a high-velocity round entered through the side of her head and exited out the other side, purple blood painting the ground as her momentum carried her forward and into the ground, biotics dying out as she died. He merely looked down at where her head tapped his right foot, purple blood collecting around her head, her face contorting from her raged expression to one of tranquility; a deathly peace.

People screamed at the sudden death, and the C-Sec officers quickly converged on him weapons raised. He gave another thumbs up in Zaeed's general to confirm a good kill and then turned to walk away, only to run into the barrel of a battle rifle.

"That's far enough," the officer declared, "On your knees, hands behind your head, now. You're under arrest."

"I'm a Council Spectre. As of now, I'm advising you move out of the way, before you end up like her," he ordered, not backing down, "Besides, you really going to defend her? She was on death row anyway; she was insane, and wasn't going to risk letting her continue to live. I did what was necessary, got me? And if you don't, that's too bad. Move, before I do something I seriously regret."

The man fingered his trigger for a second before rapidly lowering his weapon and stepping aside, snapping a salute, "Of course, Spectre. Sorry to bother you Spectre."

He nodded, motioning to Sederis' dead body behind him, "Better contact the morgue and have them collect her body; don't want to just leave it lying there. Isn't good for public consumption."

The man merely nodded as Marcus pushed past him and left. Just as he reached the foot of the stairs, his omni-tool began to beep with a call from Zaeed. Accepting the call, he watched as his scarred face popped up on his omni-tool vidscreen, the man shaking his head, "Beautiful goddam kill, Shepard. That Sederis bitch was fuckin crazy; glad you took her down. Going to make relations with those fucking Eclipse pussies much more enlightening."

He nodded, shaking his head grimly, "It was necessary, Zaeed. Sederis really was crazy, and needed or not, I couldn't leave her in that cell to only escape later. I dealt with a potential problem, and I feel better for it. Have you informed Sayn yet?"

"Message just got sent. I sent a similiar one to Aria in turn," the mercenary growled, "If that's all Shepard, I really must get the fuck off this station and back to Zorya. There's only so much goddam trust I can put in one turian."

Despite the situation, he couldn't help but laugh, nodding with a falling smile, "Thanks Zaeed. I'm going to go deal with the Blood Pack leader."

"Sure you can handle him yourself?"

"I've handled worse. I can deal with one krogan," Marcus replied bitterly, making it to the elevator and hitting the icon for Docking Bay D24's Cargo Center, which had been retrofitted into a makeshift refugee camp. Apparently that's where Weyrloc Ferturk would be, along with his Blood Pack cronies and Aria's puppet leader, Kreete.

"Whatever you say, you smug bastard," the bounty hunter replied, "See you around, Shepard. Happy Reaper killin."

He nodded, and cut the connection. Seeing he was about to reach the refugee camp, he sighed inwardly, realizing just how stupid it must seem taking on a heavily-armoured Blood Pack krogan in just casual clothes and with only a SMG as armament. But if he returned to the Normandy, Liara, James or Keeling, or all three, would insist on coming with him, and he was having none of it. He had already turned his crew into trained killers, he wasn't turning them into assassins either.

No, that was his damnation to walk.

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1456 hours._

_Docking Bay D24 Refugee Center, Shalta Docks, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

His ears were almost immediately assaulted by noise when the elevator doors slid open, omitting in the harsh sounds. He walked down the hall and moved towards the C-Sec Security Checkpoint that was in place; a blue field, the same as that on the Normandy, blocked his entrance, and on his left was a desk that was bare all except for the terminal resting ontop of it, and the human standing behind it. Seeing Marcus standing there, he looked up, nodding, "State name and identification, please."

He held up his captain's credentials this time, knowing they'd check up to see this time if his spectre ID was up to date. The human saw this and typed it into his terminal, nodding as he did, before turning to look at him once more, motioning towards the bay, "You've been checked through. You may proceed, Captain Shepard."

Marcus nodded and without a second glance moved through the detector, which immediately set it off. Before the man could even speak, Marcus held up his hand to stall him, pulling out the SMG he had strapped to his hip. The man gave him a questioning brow, to which he merely shrugged, "Gotta have protection everywhere I go."

The man nodded, motioning for him to go through, "You're military, so I guess its allowed. Have a good day, sir."

Marcus turned and walked through the field, silently berating the man for his poor choice of words.  _He literally just said as I walk into a_ _ **refugee**_ _camp. How insensitive and ignorant can you be?_ Despite the man's words, Marcus pressed on, determined to get this over with.  _Of all the things I could be doing, I didn't imagine chasing people around the Citadel was one of them. How many people are dying while I'm killing three people?_ He gulped, shaking those dangerous thoughts from mind, entering the main refugee camp.

Overcrowded to the point of chaos, is how he would best describe it at the moment. The bay was lined with C-Sec officers on patrol, trying to keep the peace. Observation windows on the walls to the left allowed anyone a view of the many ships that were almost constantly flowing into the docks, likely packed with refugees fleeing the Reapers as their relentless harvest.

As he looked around the bay, he saw four main sections of camp; each one was full of containers that had been turned into makeshift homes. Most of the refugees milling about were batarians, some soldiers while others were civilians, but at least a quarter of them were humans as well. He could hear the sounds of children crying, of mothers weeping for their lost loved ones, and fathers desperately trying to get extra rations and living space for their families. Soldiers argued with officers for weapons, while the voices of ship's captains asked for permission to dock. He heard the occassional scream of agony or sorrow, and sometimes even heard the shouts of officers breaking up fights. No, chaos best described what he was looking at.

And as his eyes scanned the room, he saw them. Six Blood Pack mercenaries at the back of the camp, obviously conspiring with one another; four vorcha, two krogan, one of them wearing the exceptionally large armor of the leader; their insignia of a battered skull extremely hard to miss. They seemed to be unarmed; clearly their weapons had been confiscated. He straightened his posture and then pulled his shirt over his SMG, hiding it, as he approached the lone group. He passed numerous refugees and police officers, and noticed the hopelessness in their features, the fear, and some...the anger and sorrow. Some faces were of dried tears, others of fresh ones.

Like a cold machine, he ignored them, offering no comfort as he moved towards his target.  _I cannot show weakness. If the Hero of the Citadel and Destroyer of the Collectors shows fear and sorrow, then what hope is there left for galactic morale? None. I'm the last strong one left. That, and my inconquerable squad._ So he continued to move, going through the movements without hesitation, and eventually found himself behind the krogan leader.

One vorcha noticed him immediately and pointed a sharpened talon at him, screeching in the squeaky and harsh growling noise that vorcha made when they spoke, "Ah! Human behind you!"

The krogan stopped and turned to face Marcus, easily towering over him. Even as the krogan began to speak to him, Marcus was already analyzing the krogan's entire body; weak points, strength, and where to hit to take him out. Knowing that most of his body weight lay on his legs, he prepped his omni-blade as the krogan spoke, "Human? What the hell do you want? Unless you're here to pay us for something, I've got things to do. Piss off."

His hands clasped behind his back, where his omni-blade silently came to life with a low whoosh of energy and the silent crackling of fiery heat, "Nothing, just here to assume control of the Blood Pack that's all. Do you know how I can do that?"

The krogan laughed, shaking his head as he eyed the human with a glare of intensity, "I'm the leader here, human. Which means I own the Blood Pack."

"Incorrect," he stated, pointing a finger at the vorcha he knew was Kreete from Aria's dossier on him; he was recognized by the red choker around his neck, "Kreete is. You've been dismissed."

"What? How-"

Marcus was as quick as lightning, and was already moving in a flash. He ducked down low, his omni-blade slamming into the krogan's left kneecap and then dragged upwards with a sizzling pop. The krogan roared in a mix of pain and anger as he fell onto the one knee; without even thinking, Marcus leapt behind him and raked his blade across the back of the same knee, which crippled the krogan for good as he fell face forward onto his belly, howling. The other mercs looked ready to attack, but something caused them to hold back, and merely watched as Marcus came to stand facing the krogan's wreathing body, SMG folding out into his hands.

The krogan quickly rolled onto his back, meeting the captain's eyes with hatred glowing in their pits, "Who the fuck do you think you are? I-will destroy you. I am Ferturk, of Clan Weyrloc, Leader of the Blood Pack!"

"And I'm Captain Shepard. Or, to you,  _Commander_ Shepard," he growled, Marcus' tone hinting at danger to all who heard it, "And I just happen to need your troops for this war, Ferturk. Which means you need to be removed from the picture."

"Men!" the krogan growled, turning to the five mercs standing beside him, "Kill this wretched human, don't just stand there! I want him dead, right now! Whoever gets the kill gets a promotion!"

Marcus stopped his approach, raising his SMG to aim at the krogan's face as he met their eyes with cold ferocity, "I wouldn't even bother doing that. Remember Weyrloc Guld, and how he...met a gruesome end?"

They slowly nodded, and there was glint in his eye, "That was me. I've killed many of your mercenaries in the past, and most of them decided to get in my way. I killed them, and I will kill you if you so much as move an inch to help him."

"You're just a human," the leader on the ground coughed, he turned to his band, shaking his head with a snarl, "Are you varren to be scared of a fucking human?" he turned to the remaining able krogan in the group, "Kill him! Show him the strength of the krogan."

"I've killed many of your kind in the past as well," Marcus declared, meeting the second krogan's eyes solely, "I killed Garm, leader of the Blood Pack on Omega. And Guld. And many more. Heard of Urdnot Wrex? He once served under my command, and has taught me many and more about krogan hand-to-hand, not to mention all the weak spots," he nodded to the leader's evicerated knee, "Like so."

This caused the krogan to back away, and he continued his speech, speaking to all of them, "I'm forming an army of unimaginable size to destroy the Reapers, and the Blood Pack will be part of that army, whether you like it or not," his eyes met Kreete's, "And Aria has chosen you to lead them. Ferturk could not be trusted, and you were appointed. You will serve Aria, and me, and answer our call when we see fit. Do you understand, Kreete? I want the Blood Pack. Are they mine? Are they Aria's?"

"Both!" the vorcha hissed happily, nodding his head like an ecstatic child with razor-sharp canine teeth, "Aria own Blood Pack! Shepard own Blood Pack! You both own it! Yes yes! All yours! Will serve! Yes yes! Can count on me!"

 _Good. That secures the Blood Pack._ "Then go speak to her yourself; give her the Blood Pack and proclaim your loyalty in person. You will find her in the Purgatory night club; it is on the Presidium. Now go; and be ready for battle when I call for it. Go."

Kreete nodded, and hissed at his new men to follow. The three other vorcha did so without hesitation and, before he knew it, the krogan was following as well, which caused Ferturk's eyes to widen in shock as he watched his mercs file away into the crowd, disappearing. As he watched, crowd members began to observe and before he knew it, everyone was watching. He ignored the eyes boring into his skull and faced Ferturk, who had now rolled back to face him, a new emotion his eyes; fear.

"Wa-wait! C-c-can't we-we figure this out?" he begged holding out a hand to forestall him; he must have looked menacing with just an SMG in one hand and sizzling omni-blade in the other, "I've heard the stories about you!" the blade edged nearer, "You're merciful! Mercy! Fucking mercy! Please! I'll give you the Blood Pack! I'll be of more use than Kreete; he's a fucking vorcha! Dumb as a rock!"

"All men sing the same tune when faced with death," Marcus stated, crouching next to the krogan so they were close enough to hear each other, "And that's exactly why Kreete's in control; we didn't recruit him for his wits; we did it because he's easy to manipulate; he's merely a puppet to make controlling your Blood Pack easier. You? You would stab us in the back they first chance you got, and no less or more. No, you must be ended. Mercy is for the deserving. For the worthy. You are despicable; making money off of the misery of others. If it weren't for needing your organization, I would burn it to the ground. But I do; but you? I don't need you. I have Kreete. A puppet is better than one wielding a knife, but with a different puppeteer."

He moved to open the man's throat, but the krogan was too desperate; in a last ditch attempt to protect his pathetic life, the krogan lashed out and grabbed his omni-blade arm, trying to snap it. Predicting the action, Marcus charged his biotics and let forth a warp field, which slammed into the krogan's gut. The attack atomized his heavy armor and stunned the krogan from its close-proximity, allowing him to bring up his SMG, ram the barrel into the krogan's mouth, and then pull the trigger until the spent clip was spat out.

With Ferturk dead and lying in a growing pool of orange blood, Marcus came to stand, aware of the eyes currently focused on him. With an inhale and exhale, he looked up, and met them, watching their accusing gazes. Some looked at him with disgust, while others, largely the batarians, gave him murderous gazes. He ignored all of them though as the crowd parted and three C-Sec officers; a female turian leading two salarians, suddenly appeared, rifles raised at him. They looked at the krogan however, and noticed the red armor, and quickly lowered their weapons, the female turian fixing him with narrowed eyes, "Self-defense or initiator?"

"Initiator," she looked about ready to raise her rifle again when he continued, "But only because I needed the Blood Pack for my war against the Reapers, and he refused to cooperate. I had to...sort him out."

Sighing, she lowered her weapon, nodding, "Very well. Please step away from the corpse."

He did so without argument, holstering his SMG and slipping his shirt and jumper over it as both salarians crouched beside the body, the turian placing her hands on her hips as she looked at the body. Shaking her head, she faced her salarian subordinate, nodding, "Contact the morgue; tell 'em we've got a dead krogan mercenary down here that needs extraction. And clean the damn thing up and cover it; we don't need kids seeing this."

With a nod of affirmation, the officer turned towards him, all professionalism, "ID please."

He nodded, pulling up his omni-tool and showing her his credentials. Her eyes widened as she saw it and she quickly snapped a salute, obviously awed by his presence, "Comman-Captain Shepard! I did not realize it was you, sir. I wouldn't have held you up like this. We were told you would be on the Citadel, but we didn't think you'd be down here. My apologies."

He held up a hand to forestall her, shaking his head, "No need to apologize, officer. You were only doing your job. And I hate to just leave like this, but I really do have things I need to do. Its important."

"Right back at you sir," she smiled a turian grin, "No need to apologize; I'll let you go." With that, she turned and left, and he did the same, moving through the crowd and ignoring the looks they gave him before dispersing. With the Blood Pack, along with the Eclipse and Blue Suns, firmly under Aria's wing and his, and the entire Terminus Systems under his belt, he now had a foundation for his strike force. And now that he had nothing else to do while the Normandy's retrofit was being completed, he decided he would visit Kaidan in the hospital; see how he was going. He hoped the marine would be alright.

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouting out at him stalled his movement, and he stopped, turning to the source.

"Shepard, stop! Shepard!"

As he turned to the origin of the voice, he felt an entire body slam into him, wrapping its arms around his neck and his sight covered as long, fluffy ginger hair filled his face. He felt a pair of medium-sized breasts press against his chest as well, and the woman's hair confirmed she was human. If the color of said hair didn't confirm who she was, he didn't know what did.

She pulled away, a shining smile of relief on her face as she pulled away, "Shepard! Its so good to see you again."

"Kelly," he greeted back with an equally warm smile, "I can say the same. I didn't think I'd see you here." Yeoman, or who had been his yeoman, Kelly Chambers no longer wore the Cerberus uniform she had on the old ship, or the new clothes they had gotten after parting ways with said organization. She wore a simple civilian garb, much like that of the colonists he met on Feros three years ago, and simple blue jeans. Her body was curvaceous, and her face showed just how attractive she was. But the red rings under her eyes showed that the woman had not gotten much sleep, and he knew why.

She smiled back, laughing slightly, "Neither did I. I guess, when I boarded that shuttle, I just didn't know where to go. So when Kasumi and Garrus got off, I got off with them, and found a shuttle for the Citadel. I was helping out for C-Sec, but then the news reports of Earth started coming in...and I thought I could help the refugees..." her cheery smile was suddenly replaced by one of sadness as she cupped her mouth, looking at him with horror, "Oh my god, Earth! I saw the reports and the images! I was wandering if you had-"

He came in and began rubbing her back, offering calming words, "Its okay, Kelly. I got out okay, but not everyone did. We lost alot of good people, and Anderson voted to stay behind to lead the resistance movement. Many people are still dying as we speak, but I know I'll stop them. I have to."

She nodded, wiping away the few tears that escaped her eyes, "I know you will. In the end, I believe the entire Normandy crew really did, and still does, believe you can stop the Reapers. I miss the crew, the ship...guess I got attached. A bit of seperation anxiety."

He grinned, stroking his beard, "Looks like you're in need of a shrink."

She laughed, shaking her head, "I do not appreciate being called a 'shrink', Shepard. Its not very polite," with a sigh, she shook her head, holding her head. He frowned with concern, gripping her shoulder with his but she shook him off, shaking her head as she did, "Its nothing, just a minor headache. Been getting alot of them lately; comes with being in a noisy place. I've gotten some tablets from Doctor Michel at Huerta; she's a really nice person. Apparently she also knows you. Something about rescuing her," she raised an eyebrow inquisitively, smiling, "Anything I should know about, Commander?"

"Actually, its Captain now," he corrected, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sort of a unofficial battlefield promotion. Anderson...gave it to me when I was leaving Earth. It was basically his last words to me."

"I see," solemnity filled the scene upon his final words, but Kelly quickly shook her head, crossing her arms as she narrowed her eyes at him, "But do not avoid the question; who is Doctor Michel, and how do you know her?"

"You could say she's how I met my lovely wife," he grinned, the thought of her not bringing any melancholy and loneliness this time, "She's also how Garrus came to join my team. It was during our time on the Citadel, just before the official outbreak of the Eden Prime War; we were trying to gather information to prove Saren was a traitor, and it just so happened that Garrus may have been on to something. We went to Chora's Den, and that's how I met both Garrus and Wrex. They joined us and we stormed Michel's Clinic in the Wards, and rescued her from some of Fist's thugs. And that's how we met."

"Very dramatic," she giggled, shaking her head, which caused another smirk to arrive from Marcus' lips, "But she commanded a clinic three years ago? She really came a long way."

"What do you mean?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"She's the hospital administrator for Huerta Memorial now," she stated with praise, "She does a really good job."

His eyes widened at this revelation, laughing half-heartedly before pinching his nose, "Well...well damn. Yeah, she certainly has come a long way. I think all of us have, really. Except you," he teased, poking at her shoulder, "You're just a psyche. What's the saying? Once a shrink, always a shrink."

"Actually, its 'once a marine, always a marine,' but I'll allow you your simple interpretation," she waved with a mock hand of dismissal, smiling all the way.

"Very well, Mrs. Philosophy Professor," he grinned back, sighing, "This is good, Kelly. I don't think I've really smiled all that much since leaving Earth. Poor Liara's had to put up with my crap; you know, stone-faced asshole and ruthless bastard I am."

She stopped laughing, her face becoming neutral as she nodded, "I know that feeling; although I'm glad I wasn't there. I don't think I could bare to see the birth place of my species...just..." she shook the thoughts from her head, "Let's not think about the war. We haven't talked in a while."

"Kelly," he began, knowing he needed to warn her about something, and he only just remembered what that was, "You need to know something. Cerberus...the Illusive Man...they've gone insane. It isn't safe around here anymore; anywhere, really. They attacked my team on Mars and...well, they've gotten an upgrade. The Illusive Man is using Reaper tech to turn his soldier into monsters, and we...I...may think he's...indoctrinated."  _There's no other explanation for why he could want to change his plans so suddenly. He always has been too obsessed with the Reapers...now I'm certain its indoctrination._

Kelly looked at him, nodding her head slightly, "I knew this would happen at some point...the Illusive Man's insanity, I mean. I just..."

"You need to stay safe. You need to hide," he licked his lips, bracing himself for his next deliverance of words, "Kelly, I'm offering a chance for you to return to the Normandy crew. To help me."

Her eyes seemed to widen in terror, and she seemed to go insane in that instant, switching from laughing to sobbing, back to laughing again. Finally, she began to hold herself, shaking her head, "I...no...no no no I can't go back there. I...feel safe here. I feel  _safer_ here."

He sighed, seeing she was she suffering from the events of the Collector abduction of the Normandy crew that had happened months before. She had never recovered from the attack, and had complained of horrific nightmares, waking up in cold sweats, and sometimes screaming loud enough for the whole ship to hear. Kelly Chambers had never been the same.

But he couldn't let that fear of stepping onto the Normandy scare her away from her duty. The truth is, he needed Kelly. He needed her to serve on his ship. He valued her as a member of his crew, and needed her to keep the morale of his crew up; to make sure they were alright. Her gripped her shoulder, and turned her to face him, words soft and sympathetic, "Look, I know you still have nightmares of what happened. I know it still haunts you. I know how you feel, because the same happened to me after Elysium. After Torfan. But worst of all, after Akuze. Now, of course, I had noone there to comfort me during those times. I had constant nightmares of Akuze after the event, but it did get better. But I had  _noone,_ " his eyes became piercing and full of determination, confidence, "Trust me when I say there is nowhere safer in this galaxy than the Normandy. The Collectors caught us offguard last time, but did it happen again? No. EDI is better than that. And unlike me, you have  _friends_ who are there for you. Joker's not the most comforting guy, and EDI's certainly no comfort at all, but I'll be there if you need a shoulder to cry on, and I'm sure if anyone messes with ya, Garrus will beat him up for ya,"  _if he were here,_ "And Liara's not the most social person, but she's grown, and she's there for you."

"I feel safer on the Citadel Shepard," she said, pushing him away, and shaking her head, the fear palpable in her eyes, but he could see the temptation, the want she kept hidden, "I do. The crowds are calming, and I know the Citadel is the safest place there is."

"Wrong Kelly. You know damn well this place is as about as safe as Earth is," he stated strongly, "The geth laid the Citadel under siege with Sovereign three years ago. And that was one Reaper. With the entire Reaper fleet baring down on us, do you really think the Citadel will be safe? Especially when it itself is Reaper technology, and bends to their will, not ours? Trust me, the Normandy is much safer. We miss you Kelly. Everyone does. I...I need friends on my crew," he added the last bit as almost like a plea, "I'm fresh out of friends to talk to, Kelly. Garrus is on Palaven somewhere, my wife won't answer my messages, I met Zaeed briefly, Liara's been trying to be my personal shrink, and Kaidan's hospitalized. The new crew members are nice, but are they my family? No. The Normandy SR-2's crew was family, not the  _SSV_ Normandy SR-2's. If you won't do it for your safety Kelly, then do it for us. Do it for me. Because the Normandy is feeling very lonely without some friends, Kelly."

There was a long, drawn out silence that seemed to last for hours on end, when in fact, it only lasted a couple of moments. She gazed at him, using her abilites in psychology to measure his posture and calculate lies from truth, and she saw the truth in what he said; the slouch of his posture indicating exhaustion, eyes giving away loneliness. Those eyes disturbed her the most. How blank and pleading they were. The Hero of the Citadel, Lion of Elysium, Butcher of Torfan, Survivor of Akuze, Destroyer of the Collectors, Geth Slayer and Bane of the Reapers was missing one thing in his otherwise invincible statute and that was that he wanted companionship. The man was lonely, and not even his best friends, family or even his own wife were there to support him.

She felt sorry for him.

How could she say no?

"You've got me Shepard," she gave a sigh of defeat, her posture slacking, "Where's the Normandy docked? I'll grab my things, say goodbye." She looked terrified at the prospect of returning to her 'torment,' but she knew she could see it through.

He patted her shoulder in appreciation, "Thank you, Kelly. You're doing the right thing. Joker and EDI will be thrilled to know your back. The Normandy is docked in Docking Bay D24; literally right above us," he pointed at the Normandy hovering outside, smiling as he turned back to her, "Just ask Samantha Traynor, she'll be at your old station, and she'll get you some quarters."

A sudden look of mischief crossed her features, and for a moment, he saw a smile as she began to walk away, a look of mock evil, "At my old station, did you say? Well that's just unacceptable..."

"Play nice," he stated with mock harshness, laughing, "We'll talk later, Kelly. And...its good to have you back."

"Touche," she returned, and like that, she was gone. Marcus shrugged, squaring out his shoulders before turning around and beginning to head back to the elevator, a smile on his face as he did.  _I've met a friend and now she's rejoining the crew; maybe this day isn't so shitty afterall. Speaking of old friends...better see if my old crew made it off of Earth or Arcturus...see if they're safe..._

Just as he prepared to hit the checkpoint, another familiar, ableit annoying voice, ruined his day for him almost instantly. He groaned as he turned to deal with the perpetrator.

"Join Cerberus! If its good enough for Shepard, then its good enough for us!"

Another groan.

"Oh, fuck me..."

**"Meeting another friend must have been nice."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It was a nice change from watching people you know die. Plus, all the chaos of the past three days started dying off, making it better to stand."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So what occurred next?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Interrupt again, and this interview is over."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Fine. Just be quick about it."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Now, Shepard, what did you do next?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"I went to Huerta Memorial. Where I ran into more friends...and a new recruit."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Out so soon? I do believe so.** _

_**This marks the end of what I call the very short 'Mercenary Arc' of the story. Marcus now has the Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack and Aria's troop under his belt, which means he's set the foundation for his ground forces and some of his naval force. Next chapter will be mostly conversations before the Normandy heads to Palaven.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai!** _


	8. No Man Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard checks up on Kaidan. The turian councilor presents to Shepard a proposal.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER SEVEN:**

**NO MAN LEFT BEHIND**

_June 3, 2186_

_1529 hours._

_Reception Area, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

Marcus had never really visited Huerta Memorial himself until now, as he hadn't really had a reason to do so; the Normandy's medical facilities were just as good as a hospital's, and the only time he had ever sent someone to the hospital was Jack, and that had been under extreme circumstances.

the reception area of Huerta Memorial was huge; a large rectangular structure with the main entrance at the back, and the entrance to the main medical offices and rooms at the front. There was a medical kiosk at the left of the room, where a large sitting area with two sofas sat, overlooking the Presidium from above through a large, square observation window. The same could be found on the right, but it was more secretive and private, with a large bulkhead seperating people's view from it. Attached to that bulkhead was reception itself; closed off, with three terminals, all manned by three of the hospital's staff.

And because of the war, the hospital was bristling with activity. The reception was packed with many humans and batarians, some with asari or salarian psychologists tending to them, while others had turian nurses seeing to cuts or burns. Others were rushed straight through the doors to triage, their wounds either grevious, or their bodies in need of amputation. Either way, Huerta Memorial was a haven for the dead and dying.

It was the last place he wanted to be, but a friend he cared for deeply was here, and he wanted to see him.

He moved forward, moving towards the reception desk, but just as he moved towards it, he heard a loud grunt, followed by heavy, laboured breathing, that made him stop and turn to the left, facing the sitting area. There, positioned infront of the second sofa, was a man in a dark green, laced with black, jacket and was sparring with himself; fists lashing out every once and a while, letting out grunts of effort as he landed each one. The laboured breaths were heavy, croaky and raspy, attempting to take in as much air as they could.

The man's skin...or should he say, scales, were bright and radioactive green, head crest slightly spiked and prickly. Marcus could only smile as he halted his approach to the desk and instead spun on the spot, heading straight for the man. Suddenly, as if sensing Marcus' approach, the man turned, half-lidded eyes meeting his. Unlike humans, drell eyes blinked horizontally, not vertically, and looked alot like frogs when they did so. His lips were cracked and dry, but his eyes lit up upon seeing Marcus, relaxing his tense body as he smiled.

"Shepard," his drell friend greeted, "A pleasant surprise. Although not so, gathering how I knew you would eventually find yourself here." He held a hand to Marcus, one he willingly took and shook, hand clenching hard around the assassin's, as did the drell's.

Marcus grinned, slapping him on the back, "A pleasant surprise is seeing  _you_ here, Thane. First I run into Kelly, and now this? This is beyond coincidence. That or its sheer luck. I thank both equally; my life's become a bit too lonely on the Normandy for me to continue going without the occassional greeting from a friend or two."

Thane nodded in agreement, turning to look down on the Presidium, "All too true. Although I gather you are having a hard fight ahead of you, it is nice to talk. Come, sit. It has been...seven months? Yes, maybe. Either way, it has been a long time since we last talked," he gulped, taking a seat on the sofa, "I would welcome some conversation. My son visits regularly, and Doctor Chakwas has taken care of me adequately. But it has been a while since I have had a conversation with a friend."

Marcus accepted the offered seat, letting himself drop next to Thane, sighing as he let his tense muscles loosen up and allow him to relax. Suddenly, he was turning back to the assassin, eyes widening again, "Chakwas is here too? Damn. I'm hitting the jackpot here."

"And it'll only get better," Thane stated. He noticed Marcus' raised eyebrow, but decided to remain cryptic and did not elaborate further, his eyes telling Shepard that it would be up to him to find out what he meant later. Instead, the captain cleared his throat and draped an arm over the sofa, facing the drell, who had quietly folded his hands in his own lap.

"Well, for starters, what was with that sparring stuff?" Marcus asked, "Need to hit something? I'm willing to be beaten. God knows that a few husks and Cerberus soldiers aren't enough to satisfy my need for a serious beating." He chuckled at his joke, and it seemed to grab a slight smile from the drell, but Thane did not act on it, only replying in a matter-of-fact tone, as was accustom to him.

"Keeping in shape is a necessity if I am to stay in peak physical shape. For someone with Kepral's Syndrome such as us drell, that is difficult, and I do it as regularly as possible, but it does take a toll on my respiratory system," he noticed Marcus' sad expression, and shook his head, "Do not worry for me, for I have accepted the inevitable. I will die, but not before the Reapers are done and gone from our galaxy, I promise you that."

"How...how long?" he asked, "During our mission against the Collectors, you said you didn't have long to live. How long is that now?"

"The last doctor I spoke with, and the one I trusted the most, gave me three months to live," he stated, sighing heavily as he leaned back, shaking his head, "Shepard, that was four months ago. I have asked and asked, and none have given me reliable answers. Suffice to say however, my time is coming, and it will be soon. Already my coughing has become sporadic, and just sprinting enflames my lungs to the point of near suffocation. Eventually, I just could not take normal life anymore, and I have ended up here," he waved at his surroundings, "Kolyat brought me here as soon as he could. Like I said, he visits regularly, and for now and until the end of my life, this is my home. This hospital."

He gulped, not knowing the words to say, or how to voice them. He had encountered many difficulties among his crew; Mordin's short lifespan of 40 years and how he was in his late thirties, Joker's Vrolik syndrome, EDI and Legion's AI status, Jacob and Miranda's relations with Cerberus, Grunt's superkrogan strength, Garrus' problems with the law, Tali's weak immune system, and the list just went on. But none of them had been as close to death as Thane was...at least Mordin had a few more years left in his life. Thane had days. Weeks. And months was the maximum. The drell didn't even know if he'd live long enough to see the war's end. Hell, what if the drell died, believing in victory, and then went to the afterlife, witnessing our defeat? Thane's difficulty was the most confronting of all, and it made Marcus sad to think of the drell's unbareable, but accepted, fate.

"I'm sorry Thane," Marcus stated pitifully, unable to think of anything else to say in that moment, "I'm sorry I can't help you. I'm sorry that none of the Primacy's or Union's scientists could find a cure for your disease, and I'm sorry that noone can save you. This must be hard."

"For Kolyat, it is a foreseeable nightmare turned horrifying reality," Thane answered calculatedly, sighing once more as he turned and met Marcus' eyes, "For me, it is something I've known would always come, and have accepted. Weep no tears for me, for when it comes, I shall embrace Kalahira and Amonkira in the stars."

"So I guess that means you can't join us?" Marcus asked, silently berating himself for being so selfish, but knowing that he really did need as many friends as he could on his crew to back him, "You said seven months ago that you'd join us when I called for it, and that you'd fight the Reapers to your last breath."

Thane nodded, eying Marcus with sadness in his features, something rare for the drell, "I remember what I said, and I remember them with shame. I would not call my words lies, but I would call them misconceptions. I am not flawless Shepard; the future is as untold as the mysteries of the universe, and I, in my stupor, could not see the obvious. That I would not be able to join you, because my Kepral's Syndrome would limit me from doing so. I apologize Shepard, but I cannot join your crew. I would be of no help to you, and only get myself killed, and doubtless many more. Not only would I be a detriment, but I would be limited in combat. I am not as I was; I'm not...what I used to be."

Marcus nodded to each of Thane's words and by the end, had his hand on the drell's shoulder, squeezing it, "I'm sorry Thane, what I requested was selfish. I should have seen the state you were in, and known straight away. Fret not Thane, I do harbor any harsh judgement forwards you or prejudice. Your decision is one based on regret, I understand, and I'm sorry to not have you join us, but at the same time, I understand. Just...I hope you find peace when you finally pass away. And when you feel yourself slipping away, don't just call Kolyat, call me. I'd like to think you as my friend Thane, and so would the rest of the crew. We'll be by your side, till the end. I know you'd do the same for me, or any of us."

"Thank you Shepard. And yes, I would appreciate that. Your personality is eccentric, and I find myself enthralled by your ability to keep on through the toughest of times, Shepard. It is inspiring, even if you do not see it that way," when the drell finished, Marcus merely nodded, a silent agreement being acknowledged between the two. They had fought and bled while fighting the Collectors, and while those had been good times, those times were now over. Thane was on his last breaths of air, and Marcus would not tear him away from his son and family just to have him die on some planet out in the middle of nowhere. That wasn't fair on him.

 _You think this war is fair, Marcus? You think the Reapers play fair? They haven't yet, but they will take the Citadel eventually. And when they do, they will kill or harvest Thane just like everybody else, and you'll be a fool for not bringing him with you._ Marcus shook those vehement thoughts away, disgusted by their contents.  _How could I even think like that? Thane is my friend. Not a tool to be used. The Blue Suns are a tool. The Eclipse and Blood Pack are a tool. But not Thane. Not my friends. Not my...my family._

Thane broke the silence, speaking with a reserved tone, "I noticed them bringing Staff Commander Alenko through triage many hours ago. He seemed to be in critical condition."

Marcus nodded, happy to have his thoughts brought elsewhere, "Yeah. We ran into a Cerberus infiltration unit; a synthetic AI, on Mars. She was trying to escape with some data on a anti-Reaper superweapon we found, and I gave chase. We thought we'd killed her,  _it,_ but then it just came out of nowhere, and before I knew it, he was on the ground in a coma. It beat him with an inch of his life, and I ended its life."

"I see," Thane replied, nodding, "Alenko will recover. He is a strong marine; I saw that, even on the Normandy. What happened to the synthetic?"

Marcus shrugged, "Took it back to the Normandy dumped it in the AI Core; EDI's monitoring it while we figure out what to do with it. I have half a mind to hand it over to Hackett's engineers and see what data we can find on Cerberus, but I'm also tempted to flush it out an airlock. Call it a dilemma."

"You said yourself that the easy decisions are hardly the right ones," Thane returned with a quick nod of his head, as if in self-agreement, "It'd be better to send it to the Alliance. The amount of data that could be obtained from a Cerberus AI could be beneficial to taking them down; although doing so seems hardly important right now."

"Cerberus is not what they were, Thane. They're stronger somehow," he explained, "On Mars, we weren't facing your standard fuckwit of a commando who was paid to fire a gun, but not taught how to aim it. These were assault troopers; heavy armor, cybernetic strength, and group cohesion. Sure, they were still dumb, but they were smarter. They moved faster, were stronger and definitely alot more effective. This synthetic  _looked_ and  _talked_ like a human, Thane; the hair, the face,  _the eyes._ You would have never thought she was synthetic. Do you remember Cerberus being able to do that? We came across Liara on Mars too, Thane. She says that a Cerberus cruiser, that looked like an Alliance one, attacked and destroyed her base.  _An alliance cruiser?_ Since when did Cerberus have a navy? The Illusive Man has been up to some serious shit."

"Cerberus managed to bring a man back from the dead when he was nothing but melted meat. You were scattered over an entire planet, but they found you and they didn't clone you; they rebuilt you, from the personality, to your base memories," Thane stated, simply giving him the facts, "Resurrection is like time travel, Shepard. Scientists have declared both impossible for years. Yes, you humans believe that time travel into the future is possible; but that's years at best. What about pure time travel? Pure time travel is impossible, they say. Resurrection is impossible, they say. You are living proof that they are wrong on the latter. If Cerberus can do that, what's to stop them building a military armada? No, Cerberus' rise to power should have been expected. All the say; focus on the Reapers, not Cerberus. Let others deal with them. Remember what Cerberus brought you back for."

"The Reapers," Marcus agreed, nodding his consent, "You make a good point Thane, but it still strikes me as wrong to just ignore Cerberus. We can't let them do what they want. The Illusive Man wants to control the Reapers, and with his stunt on Mars, I'm not sure we can just pretend he doesn't exist. Hell, if Aria tells true, he has control of  _Omega._ A power that can assume control of a space station like that, and is my avowed enemy? I can't just ignore that."

"Then don't," the drell, for the first time Marcus had known him, made physical contact with him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it like he had done to the assassin, "Whether you like it or not, this is now a three-front war. You've got both the Reapers and Cerberus to worry about, and only one of them means total destruction for all of us. We know the Reapers are what matters, but if Cerberus gets in the way? Amonkira knows they must be destroyed, and Kalahira will guide you. I cannot help you do this, but know this; if you believe Cerberus is an enemy incapable of being ignored, then deal with them swiftly, for they will be a thorn in your side later on."

"Thanks Thane. I'll keep that in mind. But right now, I feel like the Untouchables trying to take down bloody Al Capone. Except I know they're the enemy, the entire galaxy knows it, we just can't find the bastards," he sighed, rubbing his face, "But enough about that; I didn't come to discuss strategies against Cerberus."

"You didn't come here to talk to me at all," Thane noted, "You were here for Staff Commander Alenko."

"Its Major now, actually," Marcus corrected, "And how did you know that?"

"I am an assassin. I  _was_ an assassin. You learn to notice these things," the drell stated, with what sounded like smugness, but Marcus shrugged it off, "That, and it was obvious. You were unaware that Chakwas or I was here until you arrived and then asked me about the former, which leaves one option; Major Alenko. It is a foregone conclusion."

"Well...guess I deserved that, actually," he grinned, laughing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah...I'm worried for Kaidan. He took one hell of a beating on Mars, and I just want to check to see that he's alright before we...head out."

"You are leaving. A pity. Although gathering we are at war, it would be foolish to assume you'd stay for the semantics and medials of Citadel life," he nodded, like it was forlorn and defeated, the drell seeming lost almost, "Where do you plan to go?"

"We're basically waiting for the Reapers' next move, really. That, and for Hackett to get back to me on whether this superweapon will get green-lighted or not," Marcus ruffled his hair, something he hadn't really cut for a long time and it had started to grow very long. Hell, even his beard was more puffy than usual, and he was starting to look too much like James Longstreet for his liking, "I guess we'll head out and gather some resources. Hell, if I'm lucky, I might stumble upon the Migrant Fleet, figure out what's taking Tali so long..." he trailed off, shaking his head, "We'll find something to do. The Normandy crew never gets any rest."

"That is true enough. It saddened me to hear the crew parted. But it is one thing to be parted from your crew, and quite another from your spouse," he looked at the back of the captain's head, noticing that he refused to meet his eyes, "You miss her. It is clear in your gesture and positioning. This tells me that finding the Migrant Fleet has less to do with the war effort, and more to do with expelling your seperation anxiety."

"I'm coping Thane. I can't afford to let something as pathetic as loneliness stop me from winning this damn war," he growled, but his voice was not full of malice, merely held back frustration, "But you're right. I'd be asking Liara to devote all her resources to finding her if I could, but that's something Marcus Shepard would do, not Commander Shepard. Not Captain Shepard. No, Captain Shepard is a soldier. A military man. And you know what comes first for military men."

"The ones they love," this caught Marcus' attention, and before he could talk further, Thane continued, "Soldiers do not just fight for their species, or their world, or their governments, or for themselves. Usually, if they are threatened, they fight for their family. Is that not what you fight for? What do you fight for?"

"A future. A house, C-" he choked on the last word, orginally not thinking it possible. But Mordin Solus, the best damn salarian scientist in galactic history, and a man he owed a personal debt, had made it just that, "Children."

"That is what every soldier fights for. What most of them fight for. So don't think that just because you have an enemy to fight that you should not search for Mrs. Shepard," Thane observed, standing up as he moved over to the window, clasping his hands behind his back, "Maybe she will find you, or you'll find her, but you will find each other. Wars have a habit of doing that. Don't make the mistake I did; the ringmen killed my wife, so don't let the Reapers kill yours before you get to hold her one last time. Achieve that future you wish for Shepard. Many won't get it, but the ones who persevere will."

"I don't know what to say Thane," Marcus replied, giving a weak smile, "I'll take that into consideration."

"Nothing is needed to be said," the drell turned back to him, hands still clasped behind his back as he too, gave a weak smile, "As I have said, I do not have much time left. But for Major Alenko, our mutual friend, I shall make time. As we are both in the same hospital, I will make it my personal duty to watch over him, to protect him. I will be his guardian, his sentinel...his bodyguard in the shadows, if you wish."

"You don't have to do that, Thane. You've done more than enough."

"Cerberus and the Reapers would not care. Destruction of their enemy is enough for them, and Alenko still lives," Thane stated sincerely, with danger in his tone, "No, I will protect him from any harm. None will come to him while he is under my protection."

"Thank you Thane. That means alot. I'm sure Alenko appreciates it," Marcus declared, coming to stand up, holding out his hand one more time, "I'm sorry to be the one to say it, but I have to go. The retrofit might be done soon, and I have to leave as soon as it is. Which means I have one chance to speak to Kaidan, and I don't want to miss it."

"I completely understand, and wish you luck on your mission," he took Marcus' hand and shook it firmly, as the drell always did, and then entered a coughing fit, Marcus' eyes widening as he came to the drell's side, easing him onto the sofa gently as he essentially coughed every bit of air he had out of his body. He dry heaved as his body desperately tried to bring in every bit of reserves it had.

"Thane! Thane! Damn it, somebody! We need help over here!" Marcus cried out, ignoring Thane's futile hand gestures for him to quiet down, and that he felt fine. The drell continued to cough and then dry heave, repeating the process until he seemed to be suffocating. In a instant, he heard someone run to join him, and within a single moment, he watched as the grey-haired, aging form of Doctor Karin Chakwas came into view, seemingly ignorant of his presence as she dropped her kit next to Thane, and brought out a breather, sticking it over his mouth while whispering at him to take long, deep breaths. Thane ceased coughing and did as was told, and slowly and gradually, his breathing came under control.

Leaving him like that, Marcus nodded, and turned to Chakwas, who still wasn't looking at him, eyes transfixed on the drell sitting before her, "Karin? Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes, Captain Shepard, he's going to be just fine," she turned to him, smiling, "It is good to see you again, however, Marcus."

"You too, Karin," he smiled warmly, and Chakwas seemed to wrap him in a tight, motherly hug that only herself and Hannah could give him without it being awkward. He grinned as they pulled apart, nodding to her. After a second however, he seemed to catch on to what she had said before, and frowned, "Wait, how did you know I got promoted?"

She chuckled, waving a dismissive hand, "I'm connected over Alliance channels; Admiral Hackett's been keeping me posted on your status the entire time I've been working in this hospital. Which, I must say, is pretty stale. No offense intended towards Administrator Michel, but I'll take a certain stealth frigate's med bay over a hospital any day of the week. Or year. Pah. The semantics. Let's just say ship life loves me more."

"What was it you said to me three years ago when we officially met for the first time?" he chuckled, holding up his hands in air quotes, "'Something about patching up old soldiers appealed to me. Pumping them full of medi-gel, and listening to them spill their young souls.' Yeah, something like that."

"I was a romantic," Chakwas returned, pouting, "I'm surprised you even remembered that. That was a very long time ago."

"What can I say? I listen," Marcus joked, and Chakwas chuckled as well, all the way to Thane's side she did, until she had to stop to ask him a serious question.

"Are you feeling any dizziness? The urge to cough? How does your lungs feel?"

"They burn, Doctor Chakwas. They always burn," Thane noted, looking at her, "But otherwise, I feel fine. My coughing has ceased, and I do not feel dizzy."

"Very well, Mr. Krios," Chakwas replied, pulling off his breather and tossing it into her kit. She pointed at it, her voice full of sternness, "If you ever feel the urge to cough again, you pick up that breather without thinking about it. I will not allow you to die just yet, you hear me? It isn't your time yet."

"Yes, Doctor Chakwas. I adhere to your judgment," he turned to Marcus, nodding with a look of contentment, "Goodbye, Shepard. May Amonkira guide your aim, and Kalahira guide your wife to your side."

"Goodbye Thane. We'll speak again soon," and with that, the captain gave a final nod and turned away, following Chakwas back into the medical center, where she had apparently been heading when she heard Thane's coughing fit.  _What excellent timing._ Seeing that she did not plan on talking anytime soon, he spoke up just as she tapped the interface for the door to open, "So Karin, just what have you been up to these past six months?"

As the door shot open, they were greeted by blue strobes of light that danced over their bodies, the high-tech decontamination beams cleansing them of bacteria and sterilizing their bodies as they moved through the corridor and tapped the door at the end, which glowed green upon them reaching it and opened to omit them. At that point, Chakwas replied, stopping outside and turning to face him, content to just talk with him in the middle of the corridor, "Working here, mostly. It hadn't been busy at all, and then the Reapers hit Khar'Shan. And that's when they started piling in. Next thing you know, Earth is hit, and we start getting our own people too. We have many skilled doctors, but we have far more patients, and they just keep coming."

"Sounds like hell," he stated, and Chakwas simply snorted, moving to the right where she reached a desk, and dumped her kit ontop of it.

"Hell? Hell is what I went through when the Collectors abducted me and the rest of the crew," she shook her head, turning to meet his eyes as she crossed her arms under her breasts, "Hell is what this war will be once it escalates and we both know it will, and then some. Trust me Marcus, this is nothing compared to what some people are going through on Earth and Khar'Shan. I feel safe knowing I'm not one of those people, as selfish as it may sound."

"Everyone feels safer knowing they're not part of the ground zero slaughter house," he stated sorrowfully, shaking his head, "I'm just glad you're okay Chakwas. I was beginning to think you had been left on Earth."

"What did I tell you about my experience on Mars?" she stated, hands on her hips, "I told you I do not like planetary assignments, and Hackett knew this and put in a special case for me. The Citadel isn't exactly a starship, but its as close to one as I was going to get. The only other option was the Normandy, and she wasn't in need of a medical officer at the time she was being retrofitted. And speaking of the Normandy..." she trailed off, sighing heavily, "How is Joker? Has he been taking his medication?"

"I wouldn't know. He never tells me, I never ask," Marcus grinned.

"Men," she exasperated, "But considering him, I'd be surprised if he was. The stubborn bastard never did listen to me, always getting his shins broken, or maybe a little too much force on his palms. I keep telling him it'll hurt or break something, but does he listen? Well, you can answer that one for yourself."

"I'll send you his...scolding, verbally and in quotations," he returned, and Chakwas gave him a stern smile, one he returned in warmer pretenses before both went silent. They knew what question came next, but he hadn't wanted to ask straight off the bat. But it was better to get it out of the way, so he knew what to expect, "Karin...just how is Kaidan doing?"

"He's a marine, so he's holding up pretty good, but most of the critical damage is on his face," she shook her head, sighing, "He's upper lip had been split, and that was the least of it. His face was literally swollen black from the amount of bruises on his face, and one of his eyes was swollen completely shut. He had a few blisters that had expanded and popped, and we had to clean up the blood that was left afterwards. He'll recover, as its not exactly mortal injury, but it will take time. He's bed-ridden for another few weeks, and he won't be combat capable for many more after that. Its all a matter of how he copes, really. But I'm not the one tending to him; I only know the basics of it really. You'd have to ask his overseer. She's not with him now, but she will be soon."

He nodded, happy that his friend's injuries didn't seem to be too life-threatening, "That's great news, Karin," but as he finished, he felt like another question, more desperate, needed to be addressed. Needed to be...answered, "Karin...the Normandy. We...well, let's just say we don't have any medical officers of any kind...kinda why we brought Kaidan here in the first place, and it'd be great to-"

"Consider it done," Chakwas stated without needing further elaboration, and Marcus just stood there with a surprised look on his face. Seeing his dumb expression, she shook her head, sighing exasperatedly, "Joker plus no medication equals no pilot, and we can't have a pilotless Normandy, can we? Besides, I miss the Normandy and that damnable med bay, so why not? Michel won't have trouble getting more staff, so she won't miss one doctor. I'll pack up my stuff and head right there, once I'm done informing Michel, of course. Where is the Normandy docked?"

Managing to break himself out of his stupor, he shook his head nodding, "Oh, its in Docking Bay D24."  _That was really easy. Although, considering its Karin, I shouldn't be surprised. She really does love the Normandy. Damn, is Joker in for a shock. Chakwas will have him poked full of needle holes before he knows she's even back onboard._ That thought caused him to smile, and Chakwas reciprocated it, oblivious to his thoughts.

"I will see you there then," she turned to gather her things but after a second, she turned back around, smiling, "Its good to see you again, Marcus. I thought two years of dealing with your death was bad, but six months of knowing you're alive but locked up is excruciating, especially for a certain someone out there."

 _Tali. It always comes down to Tali. Why can't I have a simple conversation without her being mentioned?_ He sighed, nodding, "I know, and I'll find her eventually, but for now, the war comes first. I'll see you later Karin, but right now, I want to see Kaidan while I still have a chance."

She nodded, mouthing her goodbye as she turned to begin packing her things. Without so much as a second glance, he walked away, moving over to the nearest room and looking through the glass walls to find Kaidan. His luck was high, as the first room housed the slumbering marine, naked from the waist up, his broad muscled chest caked with numerous, tiny bruises, but it was his face that looked battered.

He palmed the interface and walked inside, hearing the door close behind him. Seeing a seat nearby, he pulled up the stool and sat it next to the sentinel's bed, plopping down on it and scanning the tired marine's features as he quielty snored, chest rising with every intake of breath. Chakwas hadn't been joking about his injuries either; his left eye was swollen completely shut, while the second had been close to doing so. He had a large bruise crossing his forehead, while another one made it look like a black abomination of an ulcer was growing out of his right cheek. All in all, he looked like the literal definition of shit.

He sighed, leaning back, knowing that staying was pointless. The man was knocked out cold, and was likely pumped full of painkillers and in a chemically induced coma. He wouldn't wake up for days at best, and even then he'd be in mild pain. He wouldn't be up for talking, and Marcus didn't understand what compelled him to stay seated. To remain where he was.

But he did, and simply stared at the man's calm features, how peaceful he looked. It was times like this when Marcus wished he could look that peaceful, that he didn't have to look so cold and calculating and steel-like as he did on the battlefield. Words came bubbling forth from his mouth before he knew what he was saying, and he did not delay their onslaught, "Hey...Kaidan," he began lamely, laughing at how pathetically he had started the conversation. The man remained unmoving; breathing, but not even so much as an eye flickered as he spoke. He was effectively talking to himself, but for some reason he continued, hands clasped on his knees.

"Don't know if you can hear me, but...ah..." he rubbed the back of his neck, taking a quick look outside to make sure noone was rushing to get him arrested for possible insanity, he turned back around to continue speaking, "But since you can't tell me to get the hell out either, I guess you're stuck with me."

He sighed, rubbing his face, "You don't have permission to die Kaidan. You've got to fight. We need you in this. Seeing you in action again it...reminded me that...you're one hell of a soldier. Stay alive, Kaidan. That's a bloody order. You die, and I'll kick your ass."

If Kaidan recognized the joke or even heard his words, he did not acknowledge it, remaining devoid of motion. Marcus finally gave a sigh, realizing how sissy his words sounded.  _Thank God he isn't awake. He'd probably comment on how gay this entire conversation is._ That gave Marcus a moment of laughter, before he dropped it and shook his head, patting the man's soldier, "Stay alive, soldier. Keep up the good fight; inside and outside. The Reapers are here, and I need every one of my friends by my side to see this through," he turned to leave, but halted at the door, glancing at his form one more time, "Hurry up and heal up. I'll need you pretty damn soon."

With that awkward monologue given, Marcus tapped the interface and made to leave, only to bump into someone, followed by a loud, feminine gasp as said person fell backwards slightly.

On instinct he reached a hand out and grabbed the person's wrist, feeling rubber under his grip, and immediately recognizing what looked to be a suit underline. Righting her up, he decided he now had the chance to examine her. However, when his eyes landed on her, he immediately realized she was a quarian, and upon hearing her speak up, knew who she was.

She met his eyes, hand over her heart in relief, "Keelah, its just you Commander. You nearly gave me a...what's that terrible human expression? A heart attack? I think that's what it is."

"Correct," he grinned, shaking his head, "Damn, I'm hitting the jackpot for most convenient encounters. First Thane, then Chakwas, and now you. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, just what are you doing on the Citadel?"

"Well, I'm working for Administrator Michel in this hospital as a doctor, actually," she stated simply, and it was then that Marcus noticed the doctor's earplugs hanging around the back of her neck, the datapad she had tucked under one arm and the look of professionalism that she could only have gotten during her time working with Mordin. He chuckled lightly.

"So you're a doctor now, are you?" It was then that both Chakwas' and Thane's previous words made him realize something, and his grin only widened, "Wait...Lia, are you Kaidan's overseer?"

"I..." she trailed off, but managed to regain some of her composure, shaking her head, "Yes, yes I am. Doctor Michel appointed me as soon as he arrived, as she apparently recognized him from her past, said he saved her at one point in a old clinic she owned. I was saddened to know he was hurt, but I was more than willing to help."

"That's good to hear Lia," Marcus noted, slapping the quarian on her shoulder as they both stepped away to let Kaidan's door close and lock, "Its really good to see you."  _God...can I really ask her to join my crew again? After what she went through with the Collectors? Ah, forget them, she's Kaidan's personal doctor! You can't just keep taking Michel's personnel away from her! Wasn't Chakwas enough?_ Besides, could he really take what was, technically, still a quarian adolescent into a war? Could he hold himself accountable for what happened to her?  _Yes, I would. And that's what scares me. Losing such a young life to the Reapers. That, and she reminds me so much of Tali when she was still on her pilgrimage._

He had become adept at picking up on quarian emotions behind the mask, and he could tell Lia was smiling from the quint of her eyes, "You too, Commander. I apologize again for my abrupt departure from the Normandy, but I really did need to finish my pilgrimage, and I thought that completing my experience as a doctor would be really beneficial to the fleet. I know the crew of the Ulnay would be proud of me."

 _If this war continues like this, you won't be returning home. You'll be stuck here, amputating wounded soldiers, and giving mercy-killings for those too far gone._ He realized how fucked up those thoughts were and pushed them into the deepest pits of hell he could find, and turned to her, nodding with a smile, "I know they would be Lia; anyone who impresses the great Professor Solus is one asset the quarians can't afford to ignore. Mordin gave you high praise, and he was actually alittle saddened when you decided to leave. Something about 'alittle salarian' in you."

"Had to have been me," she quoted, smiling, "Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

"And now you sound like him. God, now we have a quarian female Mordin," he laughed, and Lia laughed as well, "This is good, Lia. Although, I was wondering-" was he really asking this? Asking her to drop all her things, ignore Kaidan and join his crew again? Sure, the Tech Lab was empty and sorely needing people to man it, but could he ask Lia to do so? This wasn't the Collector campaign anymore; this was a war of extermination, and not all of them would survive it. Could he ask Lia to risk her life based on that?"

Before he could continue, a voice yelled out, another one he recognized, shouting Lia's name. Both of them turned to the source, Lia he noticed turned alittle faster, and he watched the familiar form of a drell, Thane's son who went by the name of Kolyat, run towards them, seemingly not noticing Marcus as he approached Lia with a datapad in hand, almost bumping into a rushing salarian doctor, who looked annoyed at the interruption.

Kolyat arrived by her side, hand on her shoulder as she showed her his datapad, "I won! I think I actually won the jackpot! I did the bet, and I won!"

"You did what?" Lia asked, danger in her tone. Marcus was confused at first, not knowing exactly what was going on. Before he could do anything however, Kolyat looked at her like she was an idiot, but continued nonetheless.

"Come on Lia, don't give me that. I did it for the best," he nodded to the datapad, "I made a bet, and I won.  _We_ won. He says the apartment will be ours by tomorrow."

Lia eyed the datapad for one second, Marcus unable to read her features. The next second however took a turn for the surprising. She looked at the drell and then shot her hand out, slapping him across the face, "You IDIOT!" She yelled out, but not loud enough to break the noise of the hospital around them, "You met all of your money,  _our_ money, on an apartment!?"

"Did you miss the bit where we  _won?_ " he growled back, holding his cheek, which was quickly reddening into a three-fingered hand mark, "Are you crazy, woman? New apartment, hello! My dad wouldn't approve, but..."

"And neither do I! You bet our entire life savings on a possible win! I don't know whether I should love you or hate you right now!" That caught Marcus' attention, and his glance shot between the quiet Kolyat and Lia for a few seconds, before everything clicked into place with one quick revelation.  _Holy shit...these two are a couple? When the hell did Kolyat and Lia hook up? How long has this been happening? I always thought Lia had a crush on Garrus..._

"Maybe a little of both," Kolyat purred, and Marcus found the need to gag from the sound, but the drell continued on smiling like an idiot, and crossed his arms, "Maybe I've gotten my slap of hate, and need a kiss of love."

"If you think I'm taking off my mask...in  _here_ of all places...just to kiss you, you're seriously mistaken," she crossed her arms, shaking her head, "Consider yourself exiled to the couch, tonight."

"In the new apartment?"

A loud sigh, followed by a nod, "Yes, in the new apartment."

Kolyat nodded and smiled like a kid getting a new toy, before taking his chances and pulling her into his arms, landing a kiss ontop of her hood. His smile dropped, and his voice took on a more serious, but lighter, tone, "I did this for us, Lia. Us. I want us to be happy, and once this war is over, we'll have a home for ourselves. I promise I'll find myself a job. And maybe, if you want, we can adopt."

"Well, actually..." Lia whispered in his arms, apparently placated by Kolyat's tight embrace, "Mordin made this serum for Shepard and Tali...it um...its for humans and quarians, but I'm sure I can modify it for drell and quarians and um...well it allows for um...conception between species...Keelah, I can't believe we're talking about children already! We've only been together two months!"

"Best to plan ahead, eh?" He joked, squeezing her tightly, "Besides, the way you act in bed, I think we'll be getting children whether we like it or not..."

"Okay, I think I've heard too much already," Marcus finally piped up, and Lia practically leaped from Kolyat's arms, having forgotten he was even there. Kolyat hadn't known to begin with, and fumbled with his clothes, straightening them up and looking at Marcus wide-eyed and gulping. Lia looked embarassed, and Marcus could only smile, laughing.  _How could I possibly seperate these two? They're adorable together, and I'm sure Tali would agree. She'd probably make me sleep on the couch for the rest of my life if she learnt I'd made Lia join my crew, knowing it'd seperate her from her...boyfriend. I wonder if Thane knows about them. No, silly question. Of course he does. No, looks like Lia won't be joining the Normandy today._

"Commander Shepard!" Kolyat stumbled, "I didn't see you there!" he looked at Lia, gulping like a frightened rabbit, "Look, this is not what it looks like-"

"One, you're a terrible liar Kolyat," he grinned, shaking his head as he clasped his hands behind his back, "Two, I don't care. Lia knows I wouldn't care. My wife is a quarian, Kolyat, and the man I consider to be a brother is a turian. So if you think I have a problem with inter-species relationships, or this relationship in general, you can forget it. Three, you two are perfect. Wouldn't even contemplate seperating you. I think I'll leave you two alone now, actually," he turned to Lia, giving a tip of his hat...well...metaphorically, "Good day to you, Lia'Vael."

She nodded in confusion, one that was quickly cleared up as she nodded back to him, "Yes, I...good day to you too, Shepard. And good luck on your mission."

And with that, Marcus was gone, marching back through decontamination and and out of the hospital. And the entire time? He was smiling. Oh yes, definitely smiling. He had expected alot of things out of this war, but this? This day was the best he had yet.

He hoped nothing would ruin it.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1216 hours._

_Flight Deck, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau._

Marcus stood infront of the airlock, still wearing his casual clothing with the exception of his cap as he stood in parade rest, waiting to greet his new crew members. Chakwas had settled into the med bay ages ago, and was probably probing EDI for the contents of her retrofitted world, while being helped by, surprise surprise, Doctor Michel! The doctor had basically given command of the hospital to one of her subordinates, and practically leapt into the Normandy's airlock. Now the med bay had two doctors instead of one.

Kelly had a decent conversation with Samantha before joining her, and now both of them worked at the same terminal, exchanging thoughts on similiar topics like chatting schoolgirls. Already Kelly was settling in, and he had a feeling the both of them would get along just fine.  _Note to self: Talk with Samantha, James, Keeling and Cortez when you get the time. New crew members, time to get acquianted._ No, he wasn't here to greet those crew members. He was here to greet the ones Hackett had cryptically promised him.

He hadn't been too concrete on the details, but it was definitely something along the lines of providing an actual engineering crew for the ship, as the current state of the frigate meant they had none, someone to man the tech lab, a contingent of marines; at least a full platoon that would be placed under Vega's command, who answered to Keeling, who answered to him...and then the rest of the ship needed to be crewed as well. So as it stood, he could practically hug Hackett. The Normandy was under-staffed as it was, and the man had given him a god's gift.

_I'd like the old crew though. I miss Gabby and Ken's bickering in engineering and Tali yelling at them, and Gardner's gruff dismissals of complaints about his food and Garrus' calibrations on the main gun. Those were good times...oh no you don't, Marcus. Head out of the clouds, and in the game! War, you stupid mothefucker, FUCKING WAR. Worry about the good times when the bad times are over._

"Well Shepard," Joker piped up next to him, and Marcus craned his neck towards the cockpit to hear the pilot, "This really is depressing. Its just you, me, EDI, Kelly, Chakwas and Liara. The rest of the crew? Screw 'em. Complete strangers, if you ask me."

He scoffed, turning back to face the airlock, "It ain't all that bad."

"No, its a bloody circus," Joker returned, shaking his head, "How did we end up like this? You know, the Normandy back in Alliance colors, and a bunch of alliance jarheads walkin the halls? What happened to the times before that where we had a crew loyal to  _you_ and not to the  _Alliance._ What happened to those days?"

"I blew them up with a relay," Marcus silently replied, and both men went silent for a while.

"You blew them up with a relay," Joker repeated, sighing heavily, but not out of exasperation, "You'd think such a victory would earn you some medals and a pat on the back. Instead they lock you away for six months, only remembering where the keys were because it was bloody convenient."

"I murdered three hundred thousand people Joker," he bluntly replied, "And I did it to give us more time. I gave us all six months, and we did nothing with it. So in the end, I killed them all for nothing."

"Only because you chose to let them lock you up. Might not be the case if you had been active for six months," Joker stated aggressively, and Marcus turned to him, eyes alight.

"And what would you have had me do, eh? Run the galaxy as a fugitive? How the fuck do I negoitate with people who are simultaneously informing the police where I am? How do you suppose I do that? Handing myself over was the smart thing to do."

"Never said it wasn't. Handing yourself over was your call," he held his hands before him defensively, "I'm just saying things might have been different."

"Jeff is correct," EDI piped up, her hologram appearing on the pedestal nearby, "The statistical possibility of mobilization effectiveness is increased by 1.87 percent if not imprisoned. These odds are decreased the longer you were locked up."

"EDI agrees. The AI agrees with me. Shepard: 0. Joker: 1," he grinned like an idiot, trying to lighten the situation, "Point being, don't beat yourself up captain. I'm not blaming you for burning our good times asunder, I'm simply saying that I miss those times. Everyone on this ship now is just so...lifeless. There's no humor, there's no relating. You try to talk to some female crew member, and they'll throw "sorry, anti-fraternization protocols prohibit me from doing this and that and blah blah blah" and I fall asleep at that point. Their just so...so..."

"By the book?" Marcus ended, and seeing the pilot, he gave a slight chuckle, "Now you sound like Garrus."

"Yeah, but Garrus solved those problems with viglante justice, some crazy batman shit, and a sniper rifle," he waved his hands over his body, "This beautiful, masculine, porcelain body would shatter if I tried any of those three, and definitely if I tried all three. Hell, I can barely fire a pistol without dislocating one finger or another. No, I mean these guys walk and talk like robots; hell, they could recite the entire Alliance protocol handbook for toddlers and the retarded and still not be finished when EDI finishes giving me the status report of a neutron star from three million light years away. That's how boring these people are. Except for Samantha, she's alright. And maybe James. But Keeling is all protocol, and Cortez is all about his precious shuttle. Tedious."

"Maybe these people will be to your high standards, your majesty," Marcus mocked, smirking to the point that Joker swore he was turning into the actual Joker.

"Your majesty? You might remember that when you remember who flies this baby," he grinned, wriggling his eyebrows, "EDI and I are the Normandy duo."

"Oh, so you two are a duo, now?" he crossed his arms, frowning suspiciously, "Joker, since when did you accept EDI? You used to hate her with every fibre in your body."

"And you used to kill geth with every bullet in your rifle. Then we met the oh wonderful Legion, the one-eyed terminator who said that the quarian judgment day was a tragic mistake, and all can be forgiven by the Consensus of Skynet. And yes, I realize that reference is dated," he shook his head, "Point being, I got over my prejudice. EDI saved my life and the Normandy, so she's good. Besides she's...a good friend, I guess."

"Thank you Jeff," the AI omnipotently replied, "I think you're a good friend too."

"Ah...thanks, I guess," he rubbed the back of his neck, and then whispered, knowing the AI could hear him, "She's a bit a creepy too."

"I gathered that Joker," Marcus chuckled, but before the pilot could respond, his console beeped, and EDI spoke.

"The new crew members have arrived at the airlock. They are requesting permission to come onboard."

"Open the gates," Marcus ordered, and he was in parade rest once more as he turned back to the airlock, watching its inteface turn from green to blue as the airlock was decontaminated. He inhaled and exhaled, sighing as he went over Joker's words with contempt.  _He's right. Things would be better with the old crew; they were loyal to me and to their fellow crew. These people? I barely know them. How can I put my faith behind people like that? They have to gain my trust, but luckily for them, this war will allow plenty of time for that._

Eventually, the airlock decon sequence concluded and the icon went from blue to green again, before disappearing altogether as the door shot open. And standing in the airlock was their new crew. Infront were three marines in full armor, who stood out of the airlock and saluted him, a gesture he quickly returned before informing them that the armoury was on the fifth deck, where they quickly stomped off too to report to their commanding officer. The whole platoon followed, and then came a sight that made his jaw drop.

Memories from three years ago came flooding back as he watched the engineer step out onto the deck, his hair still as reserved as it had been back then, and eyes still as calm, jawline firm but not powerfully built. The man's hands were that of an engineer, not a deliverer of death. And he would recognize him anywhere.

"I...Adams?" he asked in confusion, shaking his head to remove himself from his shock, "What...I...how? I knew you survived the original Normandy's destruction, but...how can you even be here?"

The man named Adams, who had originally been the chief engineer of the Normandy SR-1 during the Eden Prime War and their chase after Saren, stood there, arms crossed as he smiled, "Hackett sent me as soon as he learned you needed an engineering team. I practically dropped my things on the McKinley to come join you. That, and I'd love to get my hands on the Tantalus Drive Core again."

"Damn Adams, its been three years," Marcus stated, turning to Joker, who seemed to be giving Adams an unforgiving stare. His smile dropped slightly at seeing that vehement look, and he slowly turned back to Adams, concern on his face, "Where were you? I mean, Karin and Joker were there when I woke up, but you were nowhere. What happened?"

Before the engineer had a chance to speak, Joker replied for him, "Ditching you and spitting on you, that's what."

Adams turned to Joker, shaking his head while holding up his hand to stop the pilot, "Now hold on just a-"

Marcus cut him off as he turned to Joker, "What are you talking about?"

"Cerberus, just like with Chakwas and I, sent him a message, trying to recruit him. Normally, I would have done what Adams did and ignored it, and so would have Chakwas, but when they said they were bringing you back, and were rebuilding the Normandy, they had me sucked in. Karin will tell you the same. But Adams..." he eyed the man with rage, "And you have the balls to step on this ship and act like nothing happened..."

"Joker, what exactly happened?"

"He ignored Cerberus' offer. Basically told them to get fucked," Joker smiled at the memory, but it quickly disappeared as fury entered his eyes, turning to Marcus, lips creased in a flash of anger, "I would have been okay with that; but then Chakwas sent him an offer, and guess what? He called us Cerberus lapdogs, was convinced we were brainwashed, and said you were dead and staying dead. 'Go believe in your delusion,' I believe he said. I gave him a piece of my mind in a reply, but he either didn't read or did, and didn't reply. Either way," he turned to Adams again, "He's not in my, or Chakwas', good books."

Marcus turned to Adams, eyes dangerous, "Is this true, Adams?"

The engineer nodded, looking genuinely regretful, "It is, captain. But what else was I supposed to think? A terrorist organization, an enemy you positively  _loathed_ , came and told me that they were bringing you back from the dead, were rebuilding the Normandy, and that they wanted me on his crew? All I saw was an elaborate trap. One I wasn't going to fall into. If there was proof you were being rebuilt, I'd have joined in a heartbeat-"

"Oh fuck you!" Joker growled, bringing both men's attention back onto him, "Don't try and kiss his ass and just tell the damn truth; if you had any once of loyalty and brotherhood with Shepard, you'd have joined  _regardless._ Do you seriously think I'm pathetic enough to believe in a falsehood? Do you think Chakwas in that stupid? No, we're not, because Cerberus gave us  _hope._ A hope you chose to flip off so you could continue to play Alliance patriot. Because in the end, the Alliance always comes first for you assholes, doesn't it? You spat on Shepard, and therefore you spat on me. On Chakwas. On the bloody Normandy."

"I'm sorry," Adams apologized, rubbing at his eyes, "I know what I did was incredibly disloyal and I know I must seem like a total asshole, but I want to make it up to you. I regret not helping you with the Collectors, and hope I can make up for that by helping you battle the Reapers. That's what the whole fight has been about, right?"

"Its okay, Adams. Its forgiven," Marcus declared, and noticing the objection on Joker's face, held up a hand to placate him, "What's in the past is done, Joker. All that matters is that he is here now, and he's going to help us."

"Fine," Joker exasperated, but refused to meet Adams' eyes.

"So you said you were here to head the engineering team?" Marcus asked Adams, turning back to the engineer after settling the short dispute, "Are they here with you?"

Adams smiled, nodding as he turned side to side with the airlock, waving a hand for them to come out, "Hackett said you'd like them. Said they had served with you, and that they 'insisted' on being picked."

Marcus knew who they were before they even exited the airlock.

"Eh, Commander," Kenneth Donnelly greeted, coming out of the airlock with a skip in his manly step, eyes bright with contained excitement, his thick scottish accent always making him chuckle, "Good to be back on this wee' little frigate that Joker insists on overclocking."

"I assure you Mr. Donnelly, I have been limiting Joker's access to the main fuel cells and their power regulation," EDI assured him.

"Gee, thanks mum," Joker mumbled, and Ken flashed a grin. It wasn't his reply that came from his lips though, but from his ginger-haired companion.

"Trust me, Joker's better than Ken," Gabriella Daniels, or simply Gabby, stated from next to him, ample lips spreading in a warm smile as she eyed EDI's holopad, "Ken's a bloody menace when it comes to the coolant manifolds. I think he managed to get his hand flash-freezed while trying to access it this one time; Mordin burnt the guy's hand just trying to unfreeze it with incineration."

"The salarian was crazy!" Ken exclaimed, "He could have burnt me hand off!"

"Don't be such a wuss," Gabby scolded.

"Wait, did that VI just refer to Joker by his first name?" Adams asked, and all eyes landed on him, clearly nervous about that explanation, including Gabby and Ken.

"I'm sure these two can explain that when you've entered the safety of the engineering deck," Marcus smirked, shaking his head as he motioned to the airlock, "Anyone else?"

"If you don't mind, I would like to be welcomed aboard."

Marcus sighed happily at the sound of another familiar voice, this one gravelly but full of age and experience, somewhat, "Yes, Rupert, you can come in."

Mess Sergeant Rupert Gardner, the Normandy's custodian and kitcheneer, emerged from the airlock, carrying a large crate of supplies; likely full of the ingredients he would use to make his horrifying concoctions. Marcus grimaced at the thought, but displaced it as he smiled at the man walking by, "We'll have a reunion later; that crate looks heavy. Kitchen's still where it used to be if you want to get set up," he turned to Adams, Gabby and Ken, "You two better get down to engineering and show Adams around. Don't worry, nothing's changed, its the same as it used to be. I need-"

"Captain," EDI said over him, voice easily louder than his over the PA, "Councilor Udina has just sent a message to your private terminal asking for a meeting in the human embassy. He says it is 'of concern to your mission, and might be just what you're asking for.' He asks that you meet him as soon as possible."

"All politicians do," he sighed, nodding, "Okay, EDI. I'll head over to the human embassy right away. You're not to take off until I'm done here, understood?"

"No, I guess I'll just fly off to Thessia and live out my ideas in an asari strip club."

"Joker?"

"Fine. Jesus, sarcasm man. Sarcasm. Don't say somethin stupid, I don't reply sarcastically. That's the rule."

"I'll keep that in mind. Be back soon."

With that, Marcus walked out through the airlock and towards the skycar he parked nearby.

He hoped this meeting was as important as Udina pinned it to be.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1226 hours._

_Councilor Udina's Office, Citadel Embassies, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Councilor Donnel Udina._

He marched up the steps like a man on a mission, being fairly new to this part of the Embassies. He had only ever accessed the main embassies, but this entire corridor was practically dedicated to the Councilor's offices. Even as he passed, he saw Valern and Tevos' offices, followed by Sparatus'. And on the end, and obviously a fairly new room given the area it was built in, he arrived at Udina's. He hit the green interface, watching the door shoot open as he stepped inside.

He was expecting to see Udina sitting behind his desk, typing at his terminal, and yelling profanities for Marcus just stroding inside his office unannounced.

Instead, Udina was standing, back leaning against his walnut desk and eyes looking down-trodden until he looked up to meet Marcus', no objections in his features. But that wasn't what surprised Marcus; it was Councilor Sparatus standing in the middle of the room, his navy-blue clothed back facing Marcus. Upon hearing the door open, the turian turned around, his mandibles set in a grim outline and eyes looking incredibly defeated.

_What the hell does he want?_

"Shepard," Udina greeted in a heavily-exhausted voice, eyes showing signs of fatigue and lack of rest, "I'm glad you came. Sparatus has something he wishes to tell you."

"Then why not tell me over the QEC?" He asked, "You know it can't be tracked, and all Councilors have them now," he bobbed his head in the direction of the sizzling blue ring platform to the left of the room, and Udina nodded.

"It is safer knowing we spoke face to face," Sparatus defended, turning to meet Shepard's eyes, "I wanted to talk to you about this...superweapon...and this armada you are apparently building. Reports from C-Sec say you've built a force of Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack, and that you even have the infamous Aria T'Loak assisting your cause."

 _And that Tevos smuggled her onto the station. Can't have people knowing that now, can we? Or don't you know?_ Marcus wanted to break out into a childish grin, but he kept it back, using it for later. For now, he remained professional, nodding to the turian councilor, "That is correct. The Council isn't willing to commit anything, so I've decided to do everything myself. I was planning on heading to either Sur'Kesh or Palaven next to directly appeal to the Union or Hierarchy governments."

"You'll get your chance for both, but right now, you have your chance to appeal to the Hierarchy," Sparatus stated, and his eyes took on that defeated and sorrowful tone once more. Marcus noticed it, and was beginning to actually get a bit worried, "I can't give you the resources you need, but I can tell you how to get it."

"Get to the point Councilor," Marcus growled, having enough of the political games the four councilors loved to play, "I'm sick of tired of batting the bush. Let's get to the thick of why we're here. Why would I need to appeal to the Hierarchy now?"

"You want the point? Very well," Sparatus asked, nodding as he too clasped his hands behind his back, "You were right; the Reapers were coming for one of us, either Sur'Kesh or Palaven, and they've made their move. Palaven is under siege, and it looks like the bulk of the Reaper fleet is there in force. They've done a number on our forces already, and troops have already deployed groundside."

Marcus widened his eyes, his hostile tone taking on a sympathetic tone, "I'm sorry to hear that."  _Now you bastards know what it feels like._ Those aggressive thoughts were then replaced by thoughts of his turian brother-in-arms, and how he was possibly still on Palaven.  _No. Damn it. Garrus, I hope you're alright buddy._ "But there's not much I can do if your government is already dead."

"Not all of them. The Primarch still lives. He currently resides on Palaven's moon, Menae," Sparatus assured him, "Primarch Fedorian was preparing to evac on an escape shuttle when we lost contact with the Trebia System. We believe he is still alive, and that his extraction is vital to the continuation of turian morale and leadership. He was scheduled to appear at the war summit."

 _Well shit._ Marcus knew what the war summit was meant to be; a conglomeration of species from all over Council space to dictate the future of their species and their involvement in the conflict. The asari, salarians, turians, humans and volus were scheduled to be there.  _If we lose Fedorian...we lose the greatest military power in the galaxy._ "Let me guess...you want me to extract Fedorian so that the Hierarchy stays intact."

"Yes, and a grateful Primarch will make a powerful ally when the time comes. He'll decide where our fleets fight, our troops shoot, and where our supplies go," he eyed Marcus with a look of mutual understanding, "Imagine what would happen if he devoted them all to your armada. You would have the Turian Hierarchy, as you so desperately want."

_The greatest military power in the galaxy. Only rivalled by the Systems Alliance. The turians have twice the number of ships in their navy, and way more fleets. They have more troops, more discipline, and have fought galactic war since before humans discovered the world was round. To have them as part of the armada...it is just necessity._

Marcus decided in that instant.

He wanted, no,  _needed_ the Turian Hierarchy. Cause mercenaries weren't enough.

He needed a proper military.

"Is not about what I desperately want, Councilor," Marcus simply replied, eying him with cold intensity, "Its about what the galaxy desperately needs. The Hierarchy was going to join us, one way or another, its just that this way, you're joining us sooner, rather than later. What's the assessment on the Reaper presence in that system?"

"Catastrophic," Sparatus declared, "Our fleets have been forced onto the defensive instead of the offensive, and even that is weakening. The Reapers are simply ignoring us; they'll occassionally destroy a frigate or cruiser, but apart from that, most of their force deployment has been focused on the homeworld itself. For every Destroyer we kill, they massacre five platoons. Its a fight we're losing, and for the first time in history, Palaven is under attack, and we can't do anything about it but hit them on the back and hope it annoys them enough to draw their attention, and only temporarily."

"I can't save Palaven, Councilor. I'm no miracle worker," the N7 explained, but nodded in sympathy, "But I can extract the Primarch and get him to safety. Once the Normandy is retrofitted, which shouldn't take long, we will head for Palaven immediately. We'll stealth drive it in, stealth drive it out. I just hope the turians can hold Menae long enough for us to do so."

"We are turian, Captain," Sparatus replied, as if offended, "We hold our ground to the last breath. It is how we fight."

 _I just hope Garrus isn't already dead. Or Fedorian._ He nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when Sparatus spoke up again, "The Council has also seen fit to redeem your spectre status," as he turned around, his omni-tool was already beeping with the updated credentials as Sparatus turned his omni-tool off, "All the resources of the Special Tactics and Recon branch will now be made available to you. Good luck, Spectre."

"I don't need luck, Councilor," Marcus responded with empathy, and he turned to leave, not daring to look back, " _We_  need a miracle."

Silence was his answer.

**"The Battle for Palaven was lost as soon as the Reapers attacked."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Just like Earth and Khar'Shan; homeworlds just fell like flies. I remember just how Palaven looked from my view on Menae. It...glowed bright orange. Not even Earth glowed as vibrantly."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What happened next then? I assume you landed on Menae."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yeah, and everything went to hell. Well, not everything..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Bet you guys weren't expecting a Kolyat/Lia pairing, were you? Hehe.** _

_**Updates will be slowing down now (yeah, I know, but now they will update even slower) because its now approaching the end of year exams, and I need to start revising for them. I'll still write when I can, but update time might take longer; it just depends. That, and Destiny comes out soon, so my weekends will be consumed by that game.** _

_**Next chapter will be Priority: Palaven. Hope you guys enjoy, as this is the official end to the mercenary arc of Holocaust, and the beginning of the Genophage Arc.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai!** _


	9. Imperial Dissolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard takes his squad and deploys onto a war-ravaged Taetrus, Palaven's largest moon, to extract the turian primarch for the allied war summit. Nothing goes to plan.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER EIGHT:**

**IMPERIAL DISSOLUTION**

_June 4, 2186_

_1406 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Steath Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Trebia System, Inbound for Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Battle of Palaven._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

Marcus stood in the vibrant lighting emitted by the war room table, braced against the object with his hands grasped around it with a solid grip, covered neck to toe in his Terminus armor, helmet laying ontop of its surface. Depicted above the table was a holographic representation of the turian homeworld of Palaven; and in constantly switched from the original turian positions, to their current ones.

The turian fleet had been pushed away from Palaven itself and were now being repelled by a strong blockade set by the Reapers while the rest of their force assaulted Palaven. Cipritine, the planet's capital, had been reported to be in total ruins, and many cities had already fallen to the enemy onslaught. Already, Harbinger's minions were setting up concentration camps on the surface, and doubtless thousands of turians were being hordered into these camps to be transformed into husks.

Menae was one of the last turian strongholds in the Trebia System; if it fell, the whole system couldn't be held, and the turians would be forced into tactical retreat. The moon was heavily fortified, and some of the turians most elite blackwatch special ops units were defending it, along with the occassional biotic Cabal unit and some of their other elite soldiers. The turians were giving its defense everything they had, and the fleet was insistent on holding the moon. Its fall would not be tolerated. Could not be afforded.

And yet it was. And Marcus' mission wasn't to ensure it didn't fall.

It was to rescue a Primarch before it did.

He switched the hologram from Palaven to Menae, the planet's only natural satellite. It was quite large, but it was almost the same size as Luna, so it wasn't anything extraordinary. The moon was riddled with numerous black dots; the dots of numerous turian military bases, airfields and anti-ship and anti-aircraft emplacements. Some of these were now smoking blimps, their fires long having died out due to the moon's lack of an atmosphere. Reaper Destroyers moved along its surface, along with the occassional Troop Carrier deploying husks. The ruins of crashed turian warships could be found along its marred, cratered surface, and it showed the brutality of war. He wondered how many turian men and women were dying down there at that moment.  _Too many. We fight or we die._

He waved his hand over the map, clenching it into a fist as he pulled forward, the interactive hologram pulling forward and zooming in as he did, viewing a particular turian firebase; Firebase Reach. It was serving as the FOB for the turian Army Group Menae, while the rest of the fortresses and strongholds were operations centers for seperate corps of the same army group. It was a coordinated defense, but the turian line was quickly collapsing. For all their military discipline and brilliant tactics, it meant nothing in the face of an enemy who read you like a book.  _They know every tactic before you coordinate it, your every move before you even think it. The Reapers have them checked at every intersection._

His team would deploy via shuttle just outside the firebase, where they would proceed to lift the Reaper advance on their rear, and open up communications with their CO. Through that, they would locate the Primarch and launch a quick search-and-rescue op. The Reaper presence at the front was pressuring the turian flanks, so deploying anywhere near that area was suicide; the rear was their best option.  _Deploy, extract, leave. And hope to god Garrus is alright._ He thought about Palaven, and how Garrus was likely down there. He remembered back on Omega, when he reunited with the turian two years after his death.

 _He was alone with just a sniper rifle, against an army of mercenaries who wanted his blood. Now the same is happening here; except its an army of husks and Reapers taller than skyscrapers, and his sniper rifle won't be able to save him._ It pained him to know his friend could be dead already, lying somewhere or being turned into a husk... _No! Garrus is a fighter; you trained him what you know. Combined with him being a turian, he's going to be perfectly fine. Just concentrate on extracting that damn Primarch._

He really hated playing politics.

As his eyes focused on the hologram, he barely even heard the doors opening from the debriefing room. James walked through first, clad in his heavy blue armor, his Revenant holstered on his back. Keeling was close behind him, helmet pinned under one arm, her hair pinned in a ponytail as she followed behind the muscled marine. Liara wasn't far behind, and when the doors closed, the two humans and asari arrived at the front of the table, and it was then that he noticed their presence, his eyes drifting up to meet Liara's, and with a curt nod, he stood up straight, rigid as a tree trunk, hands clasped behind his back.

"You three are probably wondering why we're heading for Palaven. Well's here why," he stated, motioning his head to the still holographic image of Firebase Reach, "We're going to be landing on Menae; this is in no way a reinforcement of the Reaper positions; this is a lost battle, and we all know it. Hell, Councilor Sparatus, the person who gave me this mission, knows it. But if we turn the left cheek, we'll lose our only hope of getting the Hierarchy's support for the armada. Which is why we're here. We have to play politics." He heard James moan, while Liara smiled and Keeling remained silent, eyes steely. Marcus shook his head, finding himself agreeing with Vega's assessment of the situation.

"Trust me, its not my idea of waging war. But we need to extract a high value target. More specifically, a turian Primarch. He's due to appear at the war summit, and if he doesn't appear, we lose the support of the turians, and therefore, the volus. Those are two races we cannot afford to lose in this war, so extracting Fedorian is a number one priority. Cortez will drop us down the rear of this base," he pointed a finger at the assigned part of the moon, "We'll link up with the turian commander, and find out the Primarch's location. We will advance towards him, pick him up, and quickly extract. We are not here to hang around. Remember; this is an extraction op, and nothing else."

"Shepard, if we're landing on Palaven..." Liara piped up, and she seemed to hesitate with her words, "What about Garrus? He could be down there! We can't just leave him behind."

"If we come across him, which is unlikely, that'll be a bonus," Marcus declared, looking downtrodden, ""I...if not, I...don't know Liara. We can't afford detours here. But for Garrus...we'll do what we can. Maybe establish some communications."  _Or we can just leave. This war's too important for me to be searching an entire planet for one turian who just happens to know me._

_But its Garrus...what if it was Tali down there?_

The answer to that was obvious. But he wasn't willing to face it just yet.  _We'll cross that bridge when we reach it._  "Look, the point is that we need to quickly land and then be gone just as quickly. We are not here to help them."

"Why not? Those soldiers are being slaughtered down there, loco," James stated, leaning against the table to emphasize his point, "We can't just leave them to die!"

Marcus turned to them, eyes ablaze, "I would if I could! But we are a four man squad, and would not be much reinforcement to them. Besides, what is the point? The battle was lost before it began. The Reapers have the numbers, the firepower and the intelligence. How can you rout them when they don't feel fear? How can you crush their flank when they don't have one? How the fuck can you outnumber them, when they outnumber simply by being bigger!" he slammed his fist on the table, "Again, this isn't about what we want. The hardest decisions are not the easy ones, and that's something I've come to learn. That  _you've_ come to learn. And if we don't rescue this Primarch, more soldiers like them will die; followed by the entire  _turian species._  Understood?"

James reluctantly nodded, still not liking the circumstances but understood just how futile such bravado would be in the face of such a vast enemy. Marcus gave a curt nod in return, showing he appreciated James' acknowledgement, and understood his predicament. He turned back to the table, eying all four of them, "We are pretty much going to be dropping into the middle of a battlefield; so no funny business. No banter, no fuckin around; we move as a team, and as a cohesive, disciplined unit. We are soldiers from here on out; you read me?"

All three nodded, Keeling's stare always remaining cold and absorbant.  _Being an N7, I'm not surprised. She's the most composed, the most competent, the most disciplined. The one who follows orders, and knows the horrors of the battlefield. Once upon a time, I was just like her._ The thought made him sigh.  _Then I became a Spectre._ It felt different to be a spectre now; now it just didn't feel as good, because anyone would do as you told them to anyway out of fear of the Reapers. Abusing his powers didn't have any fun in it anymore.  _Still gets me discounts though._

"Excellent," he declared, picking up his helmet from the table and slotting it over his head, hearing it click into his place over his head. Quickly checking that his HUD was active, he turned to the team, seeing they had put on their helmets as well, fastening them as they did, "Down to the Shuttle Bay people," he commed Samantha's terminal in the CIC, "Traynor, inform Cortez we're on our way and to prep the shuttle for combat insertion. Joker, get us as close as you can without being spotted."

A duo of 'yes captain's' came from both Samantha and Joker, but the spectre barely noticed as he moved to the front of the group, taking the lead as they all headed for the elevator, prepped for the imminent battle ahead.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1418 hours._

_Gun Emplacement E, Rearguard Position, Firebase Reach, Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Siege of Menae._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

"Focus your fire on that gap!"

"I need support!"

"Grenade! Plug that hole! Someone get me a damn medic!"

"INCOMING!"

Marcus moved forward as the gun emplacement, a turian thermal-optimized heavy machine gun, coughed out and endless storm of high velocity rounds, tearing through what seemed to be an endless swarm of husks and cannibals as they tried to overwhelm their position. James manned the position, with a turian shouting targets into his ear. Nearby, Keeling pulled out a grenade and tossed it, watching it detonate later and kill five other husks that James failed to vanquish. One turian attempted to move forward, but a harvester appeared and bombarded his position, ripping the soldier apart and leaving only blue viscera on the spot he had originally occupied.

Anothe turian lay nearby, a medic tending to him, while Liara covered their position with a stream of biotic assaults. Marcus threw in the occassional warp field, while his mattock picked and located targets, taking them out one by one. He lay behind a piece of twisted metal that had been damaged in a harvester attack, while Keeling lay prone nearby, and Liara not far from her, using a natural crater for cover in her prone state.

As he fired another shot, a missile streaked from behind him and impacted the wreathing mass of husks, blasting them apart from the blast. The turian yelled in triumph, and Marcus couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he popped out of cover one more, landing a clean shot through an approaching cannibal's head.

Cortez had dropped them off not too long ago, and it had been a bloodbath. The turians were in the middle of being overwhelmed and were exhausted when they arrived, and ever since then, the Reaper forces had been intent on attacking their position. The gun emplacement almost never stopped firing, and the turians were starting to become too tired to even stand; but they soldiered on, just like all soldiers did.

He watched Keeling fire a long burst from her rifle, and Liara cough a burst from her SMG. They were going to start running low soon, but they couldn't say the same for the Reapers; they seemed to have an endless supply of troops to just throw at them.  _I'm surprised they haven't just sent a Destroyer to just wipe us out by now..._

"Captain Shepard," a familiar turian voice called over the radio, and he immediately commed it, listening in and preparing a response, "What's the situation in the rear?"

"Its pretty bad, General Corinthus," Marcus replied, noting the name of the commanding officer of Firebase Reach and its surrounding forces, "We're going to run low soon, we've taken heavy casualities, and they won't stop coming. Either we get reinforcements, or an airstrike, or nothing."

Before the General could reply, a sing-song voice sounded over the comm, interrupting the turian commander, "Don't worry, guys. You just happen to have a generous pilot willing to dish out some pain for you. Its on the house."

Never in his life was he more relieved to watch the Normandy's blue and white hull loom over them, its gun baring down on the helpless husks below. The ship-to-ship gun batteries dropped death upon them, their impacts shaking the ground with each impact, but absolutely shredding the enemy. And, he might have been hallucinating, but it seemed the horde was actually retreating.  _Maybe they've had enough? Or maybe they're rallying for another attack..._ Husks weren't intelligent whatsoever, so they only had one tactic; maul your enemies and use sheer numbers to overwhelm them. Any other tactics was too advanced for them.  _I guess that's the one advantage we have over them; brains._ The Reapers are practically undefeatable in space, but on the ground? They could be defeated, as was seen now.

 _But even then we needed the Normandy to thin out their numbers. What if the Normandy hadn't been present, or couldn't out of worry of being spotted? What would have happened then?_ They would have surely been overrun, for sure. And the firebase behind them wouldn't know it until husks were going from bunker to bunker, massacring and mauling the wounded and the unprepared.

He gave a salute in the direction of the frigate, knowing full well the pilot couldn't see it, "Thanks Joker. I owe you one."

"I'll make sure to cash in," Joker quipped before cutting the line, and the Normandy shot back up and disappeared into the space battle above; turian frigates desperately wrestling for control over the moon with Reaper Destroyers and the lightly armed Troop Carriers; a fight they were, of course, losing. _Most powerful military in the galaxy...and even the turians can't beat them. I can understand why the Council's lost hope._ He shook his head, angered at that idea.  _That doesn't justify cowardice! They are too busy hiding behind their own borders, hoping the threat will go away. Will looky here Sparatus! You did that, and now the turian people are paying the price. Your homeworld is burning as you pay the price._

"Thank you Captain," one turian sergeant thanked, Marcus turning around to see the man holding a wet cloth over his face, having suffered third-degree burns from a nearby explosion, "I thought for sure they'd overwhelm us. Never seen such a...persistent enemy."

Marcus nodded to him, slamming in a fresh thermal clip as he signalled for his squad to regroup on him, "They'll be back, sergeant. And when that time comes, you won't be able to hold them off here," he pointed to the rear gate, where it was heavily fortified by a barricade, gun emplacements flanking it, and multiple vantage points, "The narrow path leading up to the rear gate will allow you to catch them in a chokepoint; fall back to that position and hold it."

"Yes sir," the turian saluted, before limping away, rallying his men behind him. Marcus nodded to him sympathetically, having seen the look of defeat in the man's eyes as he saw the large amounts of turian dead lying on the ground, either riddled with bullets and mauled by husks ripping them apart.  _You never get used to seeing death. Not even soldiers; we just pretend to be unfazed by it._

Marcus turned back towards his squad, who had been in the process of reloading their weapons he turned around, "Hope you guys aren't exhausted, because this is only going to get worse, I can gather."

"Please Loco," James scoffed, breathing in shallow intakes of air, "I've fought battles way longer than this, and far more taxing."

"Somehow I doubt that," Marcus deadpanned, shaking his head as his expression remained cold and steely, turning to Keeling, "Keeling?"

"I'm sweating, and ready to sweat some more, captain," the N7 stated, snapping a firm salute, "N7s don't cry and hide meekly in a corner, sir. You of all people should know that."

"Excellent," he stated hastily, turning to his asari companion, "How 'bout you, Liara?"

"Tired, but still going," Liara commented, letting a light grin cross her face, "Could be worse for wear; we did just fight off a horde of husks."

He nodded to her, before turning around and making a jog to the rear gate, hoping to link up with this Corinthus and get some info on the location of Fedorian. His team followed behind him without a word needing to be said, their expressions turning from ones of amusement to ones of seriousness. He gave the occassional cursory nod to some of the turian soldiers as they walked past, but aside from that, he was utterly silent.

He found his gaze drifting upwards every once and a while. Palaven loomed over them, being almost the exact same size as Earth. The planet that would normally be a combination of dark green and grey was now alight with orange, giant patches of it plastered over the planet's surface, untold amounts of death and destruction raging upon it. He could see Reapers coming and going through the planet's atmosphere, either attempting to engage the entrenched turian fleet over Menae or descending onto Palaven; Marcus had no doubt that if the Reapers sent even a quarter of their force, they would easily crush the turian fleet; he knew that, and he also knew that Harbinger was just playing with them.  _Letting us believe we've gained the upperhand, and later it'll show that we never had the upperhand at all, and the Reapers are simply superior in every way. Reaper arrogance at its best._

He found himself reminded of Sun Tzu, and how all the man's brilliant tactics and strategies would be completely irrelevant in the face of the Reapers. All except one.  _Know your enemy, and know yourself, and you'll always be victorious._ That was true enough; he knew the Reapers better than anyone, and he knew the extent of his own abilities quite well, but he was yet to be victorious.  _It'll take a miracle before we gain a victory over them. Or just a shit load of firepower._

His view of Palaven was obstructed as a new shadow cast itself slowly over them, and he watched as the bulky, heavily-armoured form of a turian heavy cruiser glided past them in complete silence, moving to join a battlegroup of frigates not too far ahead. He wondered how many men and women manned its decks, and how they'd all be dead sooner or later.  _The Reapers leave nothing standing; total destruction. Complete eradication. As Palaven burns, they are wiping turian history from existence, piece by piece. An entire people._

He imagined the same was happening on Khar'Shan. And on Earth. Entire histories being burnt to the ground, and there was nothing he could do but keep building his armada.

Reaching the gate, he commed the gatekeeper to open it. It took a couple of seconds, but the gate did collapse forward and open, three turian marines coming out from behind the steel walls with phaeston assault rifles at the ready, their helmets concealing their features. Upon seeing however, they lowered their weapons, and moved to the side, and Marcus and his team quickly moved past and into the firebase; as they did this, the turians were already bringing the gate back up, and by the time they were moving into the main base, the gate was sealed shut, and the turians moving back to their posts.

Marcus took in the features of Firebase Reach itself; it wasn't anything fancy, and mostly consisted of portable bunkers and barricades and watch towers. The designers of the firebase had chosen its position well, as the crater it was built in gave it natural walls to protect itself from enemy forces, and any entrances were narrow and claustrophobic, meaning that they could be used to bring the enemy into choke points and dispatch them; those areas could, and were, sealed up with barricades and gun emplacements. Overall, Firebase Reach had the advantage of good positioning to aid its defense.

Crates lay around the open space, with weapons stacked against them; grenades, rifles and pistols, sniper rifles and shotguns, numerous heavy weapons and even packets of thermal clips. One bunker was loaded full of armor, and the base's armourer seemed to be hard at work mending a piece of light armor that had been scarred on its upper right chestplate. Numerous other bunkers were scattered along the base's perimeter, all with their own purpose. The armoury was located on the left of the rear entrance, and the medical bunker was on the right, which was currently overflowing and even had wounded soldiers lying outside waiting for treatment, covered in gunshot wounds or claw marks, and others drenched in their own blue blood.

There was the quarters were off-shift troopers went to rest, but it was completely empty, given the turians could afford to let their men sleep while the Reapers were constantly assaulting their walls. Black scorch marks potmarked the ground from back to front, showing signs of bombardment from harvesters, and from where he stood, he could see the massive barricade at the front of the base that served as the front entrance; a large, six meter high wall of titantium with a ladder leading to the top and a 30mm turian heavy turret mounted ontop, and a blast door sealed shut in the middle; ontop were five turians firing down below, with a single trooper mounting the turret, the weapon causing the whole barricade to vibrate with every shot, and letting out a sizzle of energy as it dispatched the thermal clip before continuing to fire.

Marcus continued to take in all these details as he located the Operations Center and headed for it. He could see from outside that there was a turian in orange/brown medium body armor leaning over a holographic war table like the one on the Normandy, and two subordinates flanked him, wearing light to medium armor similiar to his, but both brown and grey in Hierarchy colors. Marcus, ignoring the guards posted outside the bunker, moved past them and into the bunker, insistent on meeting this General Corinthus. He had been introduced to him over the radio when they first landed, which had been a zone full of husks that had forced Cortez to drop them off and then bug out, but never actually met the man. Now he could get things sorted out. Liara, James and Keeling followed behind him, all of them remaining ever silent.

He came to stand behind the war table, holstering his mattock as his hands landed at his side, waiting for the man in orange armor, who was obviously Corinthus, to finish handing out his orders.

The turian didn't even turn to the man on his left as he pointed a clawed finger at a place on the map, motioning to what looked to be a communications tower that was flashing red on the map, "Spirits, Sergeant Barnus, I don't care how you do it, but I want that damn comms tower operational. How the hell are we meant to coordinate a defense if we can't even contact the other firebases? We might as well be flaying our arms around wildly. Take your squad, get to that comm tower, and get it fixed. I know its swarming with Reaper activity, but we can't afford to be fighting blind here. Do what you need to do. Now get to it."

The sergeant snapped a firm salute, yelling 'yes sir!' before jogging down the steps, retrieving his vindicator and then yelling orders over his radio, running off towards the western entrance. Corinthus, ever focused on his battle map, once again didn't turn, his finger gliding to a map of the base, where it landed over an image of the front barricade, "Sergeant Tobestk, our men on that wall are getting exhausted and the Reapers will be sending fresh reinforcements soon. Take your men and reinforce Staff Sergeant Egnalianus' position. On the double-quick." Tobetsk snapped a salute of his own, before muttering a 'sir' and rushing off towards the barricade, weapon in hand and squad falling in behind him. Before Marcus could even so much as open his mouth, the general spoke first, his hand sliding over the map to move it across to another area.

"Captain Shepard," he greeted with what sounded like relief in his tone, "Heard you were coming; ArchGeneral Victus informed us as much. I didn't believe it though; thought you'd have your own problems, but its good to see you really are here to help. As I told you over the radio, my name is General Manipia Corinthus."

Marcus tensed up at the word help, and gulped down the sense of regret he felt building in his mind, "With all due respect Corinthus, we aren't here to provide support. Councilor Sparatus gave me an important mission that requires immediate attention. Galactic stability and its continued survival is at risk."

Corinthus seemed to also tense up at that, his hands ceasing to move upon Marcus' words. For a second he thought he'd receive a verbal beating, but the man simply continued on, the relief gone from his tone, showing how defeated he must have been to hear that no help was coming, and that even the Hero of the Citadel couldn't help them, "Well, if the Council says its important enough to send one of their spectres, I can't exactly tell you to go to hell. I'll do what I can for you, but with our communications down, that isn't much."

"We need to find Primarch Fedorian," Marcus stated, straight and to the point, "He's needed for the War Summit in the fight against the Reapers. I'm building an armada, and I need your people to be part of it; only the Primarch can ensure that. Our intel says he's on Menae and in need of extraction."

It was then that Corinthus completely froze up, and Marcus didn't like that at all. The man had ceased all movement and for a few tense seconds, nothing was said. After however, Corinthus finally turned towards him, the turian's green eyes meeting Marcus' with a look of regret, "I..." he gulped, before turning back to his console, "I'm sorry Captain, but your intel is outdated. Primarch Fedorian is dead, same as his wife, the Metarch. Their shuttle was shot down as they tried to leave the moon; apparently they were trying to link up with Irix's flagship, the Solemn Reaper, but were spotted by a Reaper Destroyer and blown up. I'm sorry, but the Hierarchy has no Primarch or Metarch to give."

Marcus was too shocked for words, but he did not it show on his face.  _The Primarch is dead? His wife too? Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? Without a leader, the Hierarchy will have noone to rally behind, which means no turians in the armada. Goddamn it, I need them! There has to be another way to get their support!_

"I'm sorry to hear that," Marcus stated, sighing heavily, "I heard he was a good man."  _Which is a load of bullshit; I heard nothing of the sort. But sympathy, even where it is fake, will be useful now._ He cringed at those thoughts, which he found himself doing lately.  _What the fuck is wrong with you? I can understand needing to do anything to get turian support, but fake sympathy? You've always been about the facts._

"And brave. Politically, and militarily. The man committed forty years to the turian military. He once held the rank of ArchGeneral before giving it to his secretary, Adrien Victus. He would have made an outstanding diplomat. Our people mourn over his loss," the man froze again, but this time broke it instantly by slamming his fist into the table, "This battle's already taken enough of our spirit from us, but the troops didn't need to see their own Primarch's shuttle blown out of the sky. Might as well have hammered a nail into our coffin, as I believe the human saying goes."

Marcus nodded, finding himself regretting Fedorian's death more and more with everything detail.  _Damn it, this guy sounds like he would have been just my kind of politician; no nonsense, straight to the point and getting shit done. If he had been the turian councilor instead of Sparatus, maybe we'd be more ready than we are now. But now Fedorian's dead, and my hands are currently empty of a Primarch._ "So what's next? I know this might seem insensitive General, but I can't leave Menae empty handed. The war summit is practically hanging on a turian presence. Is there anyway to replace Fedorian?"

It was Liara who spoke up, coming to stand on his right and behind Corinthus as she spoke to Marcus, "The turian government uses a succession system, and it provides very clear lines of promotion."

Marcus frowned as he looked at her, but it was James who spoke, "So...what, like a monarchy? Kings and queens, and all that crap?"

"No, not quite," Liara corrected, "That's based on the family members succeeding them, which is not at all the case with the turian system. Since they are militarist, their line of succession is based on whoever is the highest ranking member of the military at that time, ensuring a military leader. His wife would then become the Metarch, just like a monarchy. But because that's conflicting between the Didact of the Navy and the ArchGeneral of the Army/Marines, they do a periodic basis. One election will be navy, the next will be army, and so on."

Corinthus nodded at her explanation, bracing against the table with his arms, "That's correct. And this election period this time is army based. Which means..."

Marcus remembered just who the head of the army was, and that Corinthus had mentioned him before, "Wait, that means ArchGeneral Victus is the next Primarch. You mentioned him before."

Corinthus looked very uncertain at that point, and Liara let out an exhale of breath. Marcus exchanged looks between them, both of them seeming to know something he didn't. Seeing his look of confusion, Liara shyly rubbed the back of her neck, turning to him, "His...name...crossed my deck once or twice."

"Considering all forces in the army branch answer to him, there isn't a single turian in existence who doesn't know him," Corinthus piped up, "Lifelong military, gets results, and popular among his troops is some of the words you could use to describe him. Then you reach military command, and that's when the complaining starts; only Primarch Fedorian seemed to tolerate him. He has a...reputation...for playing loose with accepted strategy."

"That would appear to be quite the understatement, if any of my intel serves me right," Liara stated.

Corinthus nodded, her words managing to get a vain chuckle out of him, "On Taetrus, during the uprisings, his squad discovered a salarian spy ring about the same time the turian separatists did. Rather than neatralize the ring, he fell back; even sacrificed valuable installations and bases to the separatists as he did. Then the rebels attacked the salarians, and when they had both worn each other out, Victus moved back in and not only took back the forts and bases, he also defeated the rebels and the spy ring in one attack; didn't lose  _a single man._  The men thought he was a genius and a hero, but command thought he had played the game recklessly, and had gambled too much for the outcome to be worth it. Other words, it was bold, but wild behaviour doesn't get you advanced up the meritocracy. But it didn't matter; he ended up commanding the entire army regardless, and now he's Primarch."

 _A bold, reckless military commander who inspires loyalty in his troops, gets the job done and has spent his life in the military. This is the kind of man I can tolerate. Primarch Victus; even has a nice ring to it._ "I need to find Victus now and extract him. Who's next in line as ArchGeneral?"

Corinthus scoffed, "Unlike the succession for the Primarch position, succession for ArchGeneral isn't as easy, especially when you have seven different field generals, like me, that are eligble for the position. Usually the ArchGeneral chooses, but I doubt he's going to have much time for that. And especially not with our comms down."

"You don't know where he is?" Marcus asked, confused at how you could lose your commander's position.

"He's constantly moving from base to base. Normally he'd inform us of such movements, but because the comms are down..." he didn't need to finish that thought as he could see the recognition in Marcus' eyes, "But hopefully Sergeant Barnus will be getting that problem fixed quite soon. We should have comms up and working soon, and then we can discern ArchGeneral Victus' position."

Marcus nodded, but as if excellently well-timed, the console beeped, and Corinthus hit an icon that displayed Barnus' face on his omni-tool, "What is it, Sergeant?"

Streaks of gunfire could be seen in the background, and Barnus' response was hurried, his helmet cam shaking with his head as he ran, "Our position was overrun! They came out of nowhere! They were being lead by a Marauder! We need to fall back, General! The comm tower isn't operational!"

The turian general's fist once more impacted the table in frustration, but he suddenly looked at Marcus with a brief instance of relief, letting his clenched fist drop to his side, "Retreat to a suitable distance Barnus, and hold position. Reinforcements are headed your way." He then cut the comm.

"And I wonder who they could be?" Marcus joked, already pulling his mattock out to drop into his hands.

"You wanted comms, now you get to acquire them. I just hope your team has an engineer."

"N4s were given basic combat engineering skills in our class to make us able to perform EOD and weapon disassembly," he turned towards Keeling, "Meaning you are up. Mine are a bit rusty."

She gave him a curt nod, and said nothing else as he turned back to Corinthus, another questioning lingering on his mind. His eyes met the side of the general's head as he spoke, "General, just what is a marauder?"

Again with that tensing; the turian seemed almost stone-like now, his body refusing to show any sign of life in it. He did not flinch, or even blink. He just seemed to stare at the table, before his head drooped low, and he sighed heavily, "They are...Reaper...abominations. Perversions. Husks, as you know them, but...not quite the usual type. They only started popping up after they began occupying Palaven; before that was just Cannibals, Harvesters and your standard husk, along with some explosive husks, these floating tanks, and walking tanks. We didn't know who they had converted to make them until...we took a look at their face..."

Marcus knew where this was going, and his serious expression took on a much more sober look.

Corinthus just continued, "Our own people...the turian species...is that what fate awaits us if we lose this? To be turned into those...things? These...marauders?"

"We'll be alot worse if we lose. So don't," Marcus stated sternly, gripping Corinthus' shoulder with a vice like grip, "Those husks were once my people. The Cannibals were once batarians. Yes, those marauders may have once been turians, but are they anymore? No. Which means you kill them. Don't let the Reapers pervert and use their bodies any longer than they deserve; put their bodies to rest."

"You're right. And we have killed many of them," Corinthus stated, "Its just...they don't just look like us, they act like us. They're more intelligent than the other husks; they actually...they actually possess some sort of tactical mindset. We've tried flanking actions, but they seem to counter it easily. They don't just charge in either; and we've seen them leading other husks before. Our theory is that the Reapers use them as ground force commanding units; let them lead troops into battle. I think that's why they're allowed...some...intelligence. Hell, troops have reported them using some kind of strange ability to bring dead husks back to life. And they use phaeston assault rifles... _my people's_ assault rifles. Its like the Reapers are mocking us."

_Everything they do is to mock us. The fact that they're letting us believe we've had some sort of victory is just part of their game of mocking. Soon they will attack, Menae will be overwhelmed, and every single turian on his moon will become another marauder or food for a Cannibal. Either way, the Reapers are just playing with you. Its all a game to them. Why?_

_Because why would gods go to war with organics?_

Then he remembered the Reaper corpses Joker had pointed out as they exited through the relay. The two Reapers he destroyed when he blew up the Bahak Relay. The Human-Reaper his team killed in the Collector Base. Sovereign, who had been killed by the Normandy SR-1 three years ago. The thought made him smile behind his helmet.  _I've seen gods die. My team has made gods bleed. The turians have shown that the military strategists of the galaxy were able to beat gods; wound them, kill them, spread them. These gods can die. And we will make them bleed every drop of blood they have._

He nodded, deciding it would be best if he did not say anything. Instead, he simply turned around, weapon still in hand, as he prepared to leave, his voice ringing out behind him, "We'll bring that comms tower online General, and once Primarch Victus is extracted, we will show the Reapers what the consequence of arrogance brings them in this cycle. It may have worked for the Protheans, but it will not work on us. I promise you that, General." And with that, he was gone, Liara, James and Keeling following behind him and spreading out, working like a well-oiled machine as they converged on the western entrance.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1442 hours._

_Firebase Communications Tower, Western Position, Firebase Reach, Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Siege of Menae._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

The area surrounding the communications tower was practically empty; apart from the walls that made up the edge of the crater that Firebase Reach was in, and the tower itself at the end of the very wide open area, there was just nothing but a few rocks and some moon dirt. A crack ran along the middle of the area, while a rocky outcrop towered over them to provide a good sniping spot, but that was it. Empty of all inanimate objects.

But not quite as empty of  _animate_ objects. Especially not of the howling, hissing, growling, nightmarish kind.

Marcus and his team came up behind Sergeant Barnus and his squad, who looked much smaller than a squad now; they had five men at most left, including Barnus, all of who looked injured in some way, some of them limping while others cradled broken bones or open, festering wounds glistening in blue blood. They had discarded their rifles for SMG sidearms, each of them firing into the horde of husks, at least ten of them, plus five cannibals, and what Marcus assumed was the marauder, up back. Barnus practically rushed past Marcus, followed by his troops as they made their retreat. Marcus was lightning quick however, and grabbed hold of Barnus and shoved him forwards, fixing him with an icy glare.

Barnus looked at him in terror, wandering if he were crazy, "What are you doing, trooper? You heard General Corinthus; your orders were to hold position until reinforcements arrived. We are here, and I see the position you were meant to be holding is currently occupied by a smug looking marauder."

"What the hell who were we meant to do?" Barnus spat, his men, unable to proceed past Marcus' squad, turning and opening fire at the incoming enemy, with some form of discipline still instilled at them as they picked and chose their targets and covered their flanks, "Holding that position was spirits-be-damned suicide! They had already overwhelmed, I didn't see any point in hanging around!"

Marcus jabbed an angry finger at the western gate, "Your routing would have left the place completely unprepared for a Reaper flanking movement; you could have gotten everyone killed, you bloody fool." And without any further words, he threw Barnus aside, brought his mattock to bare, and opened fire.

His squad quickly joined in, and together they mowed down the ten husks converging on them. Barnus squad was saved, all except one, who had been too far afront and had been tackled to the ground by four husks, who then proceeded to rip him into bloody ribbons while he screamed. And by the time James shredded the four husks with his revenant, there was nothing remotely recognizable about the turian. He was glad that smell didn't carry in space, or he imagined that body would have left even a hardened woman like Liara, puking; bits of blue muscle exposed to space and face caved in from all angles, it was a gruesome sight.

It certainly didn't boost morale in Barnus' squad, and they quickly joined Barnus on the ground as they cowered. Marcus knew what Garrus would call them.  _Turians stand firm in the face of a strong adversary, just as we did in the face of the krogan. Any turian who abandons his post is not just a coward, he's a disgrace to his people, and that's the worst reputation you can have as a turian. That's why turian cowards don't exist._ Oh, but they do, Garrus. He was looking at them right now.

He turned back around in time to see Keeling finish off the last husk and for Liara to launch a singularity into the midst of five cannibals approaching them. The twisted batarians barely got off a shot before they were sucked in by the distorted gravity, and to conclude the array of dazzling lights and dark energy, Marcus charged up a warp field and threw it dead center, detonating the singularity, and atomizing the cannibals into nothing.

That left the Marauder.

Unlike the Cannibal, it was quite obvious what the creature used to be; the form of a turian could easily be made out in its cybernetic visage. What used to be the skin, or in a turian's case, the plates, was now metallic alloy and cybernetics, all meshed together; the organics could not be seen as its entire body seemed to be made of full body, dark black and grey armor, and its eyes had been replaced and swapped with cybernetic optics that glowed a dim blue. The frills of a turian were now extended outwards and replaced, again, with metallic alloy, and it made robotic whirs that sounded scarily like a geth. Its mouth was gone and replaced with more metal plates, and it wielded a phaeston assault rifle in its grip. And when he fired at it, it seemed to possess kinetic shielding, blue energy popped into existence before it, absorbing the impact.

However, the marauder by itself was still no match for Marcus' squad, and both himself and James ripped into it, quickly eradicating its shields and hot lead slammed and shredded its inadequate armor, the huskified turian giving a final mechanical whir as its head whipped back from Marcus' mattock hitting it, causing it to fall backwards, inactive. James approached it and finished the rest of his clip into its head, ensuring its death before reloading. He nodded to Marcus as the spectre walked past, holding his weapon up with one hand as he approached the comms tower, squad falling in behind.

The tower itself wasn't very complex; it was a basic box structure with a dish towering above it, and a service ladder leading to the top where a maintenance console was seated; down below sat another console, which was used for manual transmission. He turned to Keeling, motioning to the ladder, "Get to it, trooper. Get that thing online."

She was already up the first rung by the time he finished his second sentence, weapon holstered on her back and rapidly climbing. But as they turned, they found themselves facing a Reaper counterattack led by two marauders, and backed by multiple cannibals, husks, four scions, and a few abominations. Thinking quickly, he motioned to the many rocks around them, "Take cover and pick your targets; shoot to kill."

The next few minutes were just that; James took cover behind a particularly big rock, taking two grenades from his bandolier and tossing them over his cover to land in the vanguard of the Reaper advance, tearing apart two cannibals and a few more husks before they were able to return fire. Following up his explosive assault, he took aim with his light machine gun and thumbed the trigger, drilling fire along the entire Reaper line and taking down husks by the fives and sixes before return fire from a nearby scion took chunks of his rock and forced him back behind it.

Liara quickly followed up, gunning down an approaching cannibal with her SMG before letting out a short battle cry and letting loose a barrage of warp fields that sent one charging abomination flying back into the Reaper line, its body exploding into bright, orange light and atomizing a few more husks and more abominations.

Marcus let loose with a biotic shockwave, before rapidly firing his mattock and numerous different targets. His shockwave cut a neat line down the line of husks before them, almost completely decimating them, while sending two abominations off the side of the cliff face and down below to explode harmlessly. His mattock managed to hit one cannibal in the head and blow its 'brains' out, while another shot blew another cannibal's knew to shreds, but not killing it; Liara did that. The rest of his fire was focused on a marauder flanking James, which eventually ended in the marauder being spotted by James, and being filled with bullets.

Enemy return fire blew his shields to hell before he even got to cover, and a shot narrowly missed his cheek, while another took him in the belly, his armor softening the impact and merely winding him as he disappeared from view. He hissed from the impact, knowing he'd have a bruise tomorrow, but softened up when he heard the familiar sound of the thump thump thump of a biotic shockwave shoot past him, the dark orange biotic color compared to the normal blue telling him it had been a scion who had attacked him.  _God, I had enough of those things when we fought the Collectors. Now I have to spend a whole war fighting them._

Minutes went by as they held against the Reaper assault, but it was becoming too much. For every husk they killed, three more replaced them, and for every marauder that was blown to pieces, a scion narrowly killed him or an unseen abomination. Liara was clearly starting to get tired, but was too tough to show it, and James looked to be running short on ammo as he had resorted to using his shotgun to blast away at any enemies daring to get close enough.

"Keeling! How's that tower comin!"

Keeling's response was clipped and quick, "You picked a good time sir; just finished! The comm tower should be back online! I'm patching you through to Corinthus."

The turian general's voice quickly filled his head piece, "Our comms are back up, Shepard. From what our field commanders have reported, ArchGen- _Primarch_ Victus," he corrected himself, "Has, or rather, had, situated himself in Firebase Veracity."

"Had? I don't like playing the pronoun game, Corinthus. Just give me the facts."

"Victus reported that a massive enemy counterattack was beginning to overwhelm their defenses a few minutes ago. Says he'll hold out for as long as possible, but he'll need to retreat soon. That was the last anyone heard of him."

"Just give me the coordinates and we'll be the rescue team.  _Victus cannot die._ You hear me? He is the future of the turian race, so he must be protected at all costs," Marcus stated firmly, wincing as a bullet pinged off his rock, reminding him of their predicament as Keeling slid into cover next to him, exchanging fire with the enemy, "We could also do with alittle assistance. Reaper forces are currently giving us a hammering."

"I can help with that."

Corinthus remained silent. And Marcus smiled...grinned, actually.

A sniper shot wizzed by, followed by another, and then another. As he peeked over cover, he saw husk after husk fall, and then watched further as another round, this one seeming to be explosive, tore into the central head of a scion, blowing its upper body apart. This action followed with the other three scions, and then the non-explosive parade of sniper shots continued.

"You just going to sit there, or am I going to be taking all the kills today, Shepard? Wouldn't want your meager reputation further, would you? The chicks already love me more...lets not start with you forgetting how to kill."

Marcus must have sounded like a sadistic maniac when he started chuckling as he fired at the enemy, but he didn't care. He raised from cover, his team also doing so, his mattock placed against his shoulder and letting loose. With the sniper support they were getting, they easily dispatched the enemy, and when all was done, Marcus reloaded his mattock, and turned around, still grinning.

Remember that outcropping? The one perfect for sniping? Well that's where the sniper had taken his position, leaping down from it and holstering his Reaper sniper rifle on his back, mandibles splitting into a grin behind his mask as he closed the distance between the two of them. For a moment, they simply stood there, looking at each other, with nothing to say. Then the turian spoke, seeming to examine him before their eyes met once more.

"You've gotten fat."

Marcus' grin only grew, "You're getting lazy. Saw a few of those shots miss."

"You did not."

"Maybe I did," Marcus teasingly threatened, and more silence ensued. It did not last long.

Within seconds, the two of them wrapped each other in a brotherly hug, chuckling as they slapped each others' backs. When all was done, they pulled away, the turian laughing, with a look of noticable ease in his features, which could be seen through the transparent visor.

"Garrus!" Marcus greeted, "Of all the places..."

"Well, its not quite Omega," Garrus contemplated, "But I thought it would do. Besides, you had to save my ass last time, only fair that I return the favor, even if there is a massive difference between mercenaries and cybernetic servants of killer sentient starships, and that just sounds silly."

"Its good to see you," Marcus stated, feeling his spirits lifted slightly by the turian's presence, "God knows its good see another friendly face. I just thought you'd be on Palaven."

"I was stationed on Menae when the Reapers hit. Call it extremely good luck," Garrus jested, but upon the last line his voice took on a much more somber tone, but he elected to not elaborate on it, simply turning towards Liara with a much bigger grin, "Now, I don't exactly remember these two at all, but Liara? How could I miss our...eccentric archaelogist, and Shadow Broker to match."

"Wait, Bluey is the Shadow Broker?" James stated in amazement, turning towards Liara, eyes wide, "Well well, there's something I did not know. I knew you were a badass, but you're friends with the Shadow Broker?"

"Hey. Don't forget Archangel," Garrus pointed out, waving a finger in the air to make himself known, "I took a rocket to the face, and  _survived._ And I managed to piss off the Eclipse, Blue Suns and Blood Pack so much that they actually joined forces to kill me."

"And then I saved his ass," Marcus prided, "He wouldn't have lasted without me."

"I'll admit, Shepard may have provided a good distraction. But seriousy, rocket to the  _face._ And I have the scars to prove it."

"Scars?" James grinned, turning towards Marcus, "Loco, I think I'm going to call Garrus 'scars' from now on."

"Bluey? Loco? Scars?" Garrus quizzed, turning towards Marcus with a raised eyebrow, "What is with these nicknames?"

"He's an eccentric young fellow," the spectre joked, shaking his head, "And a bit crooked around the head. But what can you expect from a trigger-happy grunt?"

James' protest was barely noticed, "Hey! I'm Second Lieutenant! I am no grunt!"

"Rank means little when you don't have the badassery to go with it," Garrus quipped, "I share a quarter of mine with Shepard so he doesn't feel left out, and he might have shared some of that with Tali."

"Tali?" James asked, confused, "Who's Tali, loco?"

"A friend," Marcus stated as fast as he could, not wanting to dive into that topic.  _It was always ends up on her. Every single conversation..._

"Just a friend?" Garrus piped up, but Marcus gave him a death glare that told him to shut up. Taking the hint, the turian changed the subject, sighing heavily, "Well, sorry to keep the greetings short, but apart from being in the middle of a battlefield and my homeworld burning in the background, I do believe we have a Primarch to save, if I've been tuning into the right channels."

Marcus' jovial tone returned as he pushed thoughts of Tali into a special corner of his mind, "Eavesdropping on a superior officer, Vakarian? I do believe that's worthy of a courts marshall."

The turian shrugged nonchatantly, "And since when have I cared? The short answer is a rather dull affair. The long answer involves lot of turian initution, veracity and strength of wit, something humans seem to lack, being the simple creatures that you are."

"What about reach and flexibility?" Marcus teased, "And let's not forget our calibrations."

"I think we both of things we'll never let the other live down," Garrus resorted, seeing that they were both now back on the topic of joking, which was not what they wanted. Shaking his thoughts clean of jokes, the turian let his face become serene of happiness, and became the soldier that both of them had to be, and turned back towards the base, "Come on, I'll take you to Firebase Veracity. I was part of Victus' unit before it all went to hell and he sent me to scout out a retreat to Reach. Once I heard you were here, I had to help you. Now we can help each other."

Marcus nodded, "Good, then we can-"

"Captain Shepard, this is General Corinthus!" the general's voice sounded, and he sounded hurried, "You need to return to base ASAP! Reaper forces are taking the front barricade, and they're here in force! They've got a brute!"

"Copy that! We're on our way!" Marcus responded, turning to Garrus, confused, "Care to fill me in? What the hell is a brute? Another husk type?"

"One of the bigger, uglier, but stronger ones. We've got them the walking freight trains. Seen one lay waste to an entire platoon of marines," the turian gulped, clearly not enjoying the memory, "They're...krogan that have been 'taken' and turned into Reaper husks. Trick is, they aren't just krogan; they're a mix of one of them and a turian; they've got the cybernetically enhanced body of a krogan, with the tiny head of a turian; quite comical when you think about it. But they are heavily-armoured, and our weapons will be practically useless unless you aim for the head. It can take alot of damage."

Marcus knew one thing that these brutes probably couldn't handle though, "What about a 30mm heavy turret? Could a brute handle that?"

"No. That stuff is designed to shred the armor of a Mako to pieces," Garrus explained, raising an eyebrow once more at the odd question, "Why? You got a 30mm heavy turret?"

"No, but the barricade the brute is attacking does," he grinned, and Marcus immediately began running back towards the western entrance, the rest of his squad, plus Garrus, falling in behind him as they rushed to reinforce the barricade.

The western gate was opened pretty quickly, allowing his squad to rush through the encampment and reach the barricade, which was currently wreathing in activity. Turian soldiers ran along its length, but most of them were up top, raining fire down upon the enemy behind it. The 30mm Heavy Turret was manned and operating, high-velocity, pulverizer rounds shredding undoubtedably dozens of husks.

"Captain!" The turian named Tobetsk shouted across at them, waving him over, "Corinthus told us you were coming! We could use some help up top! The enemy are relentless! They're hitting us with everything they have!"

Marcus nodded and ran past the turian sergeant, letting his rifle hang at his hip as he began to climb up the ladder to the top. He concentrated on the rungs before him, so that when he emerged the enemy would be in his sights. He could see his squad beginning to climb up behind him, and he continued to climb to the top as they did.

Suddenly, he felt something warm and sticky hit the top of his helmet, and before he could look up to see what it was, he watched blue blood trickle down his visor. He looked up, and was in time to watch the shredded body of a turian soldier, his armor riddled by bullets, fall past him, thumping against the ground.

"Fuck!" one soldier shouted over the comms, "Someone get on that fucking turret! They're still coming!"

"I'll take care of that," Marcus stated, the turian turning to him in surprise, but not stopping him as he finished the climb and grabbed hold of the turret controls. He stood ontop of a rotating platform and rotated it to face below, and Marcus widened his eyes at what he saw.

The ground was  _alive._ It was  _moving._ Dozens of husks, pressed together, charging their barricade, trying to crawl up the walls to overwhelm the defenders. There must been half a dozen marauders up back, sniping at the men on the barricade, while numerous scions provided support. And in the middle, huge, armoured fists slamming against the wall, fists easily big enough to pick up a human and crush him/her with a single squeeze, was a brute. It was just as ugly as he thought it would be.  _Talk about a disproportionate head. That head looks tiny on such a big juggernaut._

As if sensing his presence, the brute looked up at him, and he swore he could see a smug grin in its features, followed by a voice he did not want to hear right now,  _ **"Shepard. You cannot hide."**_

"Who says I'm hiding, asshole?" he brought the turret down, and began cutting into the enemy, tearing husks apart by the dozens as his squad took up positions with the turians and tried to take out the marauders up back.

_**"You cannot deny your genetic destiny. Entire worlds have fallen to our will. The cycle cannot be broken."** _

"Challenge accepted," James shouted back, looking like a child with candy the way he tore into the enemy with his Revenant, screaming like a mad man. Garrus had swapped his sniper rifle for his phaeston, muttering about how 'this wasn't quite like old times' as he took down cannibal after cannibal at the back. Keeling made precision shots at the scions, while Liara shielded the remaining turian soldiers with a biotic barrier.

The brute's insistent banging on the walls really began to naw at Marcus' patience, and when it banged again, he rotated the turret downwards and held the trigger, watching, satisfied, as the huskified krogan/turian hybrid was torn asunder, bits of armor blown off as the 30mm rounds blew it apart. A final shot shredded its tiny turian head, silencing Harbinger's taunting and killing the damn thing. With the brute dealt with, Marcus turned his attention to the rest of the assault, which was overwhelming their defense.

"Marcus!" Garrus called out over the radio, pointing in the leftwards direction, "We've got gunship support!"

Marcus turned to watch as three A-67 Mantis gunships, sporting Hierarchy colors and insignia, sped towards their position, teeth bared. Their pilots navigated them into a rotational position over the area and then let it rip with their chin-mounted chain guns, easily conplimenting the turret Marcus manned, and cutting through the enemy like butter. Periodically, they would fire a salvo of missiles, the intense heat and explosions blowing apart even more of the Reaper horde. Eventually, after a few more minutes of valiantly defending the barricade from them, the Reaper forces withdrew, well, the smart ones anyway, like the marauders. The standard husks continued to suicidally charge them, but were easily taken care of. Marcus gave the pilots the thumbs up, which they seemed to understand, as a second later they could be seen spinning around and flying off towards another part of Menae.

He felt Garrus' taloned hand land on his shoulder and the spectre took the hint, dismounting the turret and coming to standard up front, his weapon once again falling into his hands. Before he could even so much as take a step towards the ladder however, he got a request from Joker for a transmission.  _What?_ He accepted the call, and was immediately greeted with a creeped out pilot's face appearing on his visor.

"Shepard! Thank Christ!" Joker had never looked as creeped out as he did now, and Marcus was confused as hell as to what was going on.  _Why is he so creeped out? Why are the lights in the cockpit flickering?_ Before he could ask, Joker continued talking, "We've got a situation here on the Normandy! I asked EDI to run a scan of the Reaper forces in the area, and she seemed to be in the middle of doing it when she just...went silent. I've tried getting her to talk Shepard, but she isn't saying anything! And a few seconds after that, everything just went haywire! We've had lights flickering throughout the ship, consoles turning on and off, life support disengaging and reengaging, and to top it all off, the stealth drive has deactivated once or twice. Adams took a few of the engineers to check it out, but EDI seems to have locked out the AI Core. We don't know what the hell is going on Shepard, and I'm scared we might lose the damn ship!"

 _Fuck. This is the last thing I need._ "Do you need someone to hack into the AI Core?"

"Of course we do!" Joker sarcastically replied, "Adams and the engineers aren't  _combat_ engineers. They aren't trained to hack things, and none of our marine compliment know how to!"

There was only two people in his squad with that kind of experience; Keeling and Garrus. But because they needed Garrus to find Victus, it looked like the N7 was up. He turned to the SpecOps trooper, nodding to her as he talked to both her and Joker at once, "Joker, tell Cortez to get back in his shuttle and land in the base; Keeling, be there. Cortez will take you back to the ship and I want you to find someone to hack the AI Core open. Find out what the hell is wrong with EDI."

"Got it si-Shepard," she snapped a firm salute, and then slid down the ladder, disappearing below, before reappearing as she sprinted to the extraction point. Marcus turned back to his team, but before he could speak, James was already talking, seeming to observe something brutally obvious.

"Wait loco," James began, "What if this has to do with that Eva chick? I mean, your AI was fine until she came onboard. Now she's going bat shit crazy, and the AI Core won't open up for us to find out what's wrong? What if that damn synthetic has killed your AI, and is taking control of the Normandy?"

 _Damn, didn't think of that._ "That AI has a name, James. Its EDI. And even if Eva is taking control of the ship, they'll now have Keeling to deal with it. She's N7, she'll deal with it. If it is Eva, I trust her to blow the thing asunder. If not, then she'll let Adams and their engineers find out the real issue. But if I were you, I'd focus on Victus; we've still got a job to do, and I'll see it done before we leave this moon," turning from the disgruntled marine, he turned to his long-time friend, feeling his eyes soften as they landed on the man he called a brother, "So, where to Garrus?"

"Firebase Veracity," the turian noted, pointing to the area beyond the barricade, "We'll follow that path. It should take us straight there."

"Great," Marcus declared, "Let's go."

They descended the ladder, and requested permission to open the gate; to which Tobestk reluctantly acknowledged, closing it quickly behind them and sealing it. With Garrus as the designated driver, Marcus let him go ahead, with the rest of the team following behind him. Marcus himself decided to tag along with his turian friend, deciding to catch up with him. It only took a couple of strides to catch up with him, and in a few moments they were walking in stride alongside one another, the rest of the squad easily falling in behind them as they traversed the rocky terrain of Palaven's moon.

He turned to the sniper, sighing as he squared his shoulders, "How far is it?"

"Should be pretty quick, unless we find trouble, which is always the case with you around," the turian joked, letting Marcus see that he had a smile behind his helmet.

Marcus could only chuckle as they slid down a ditch, continuing around a corner to another long, narrow, natural passage. Their passage was unmolested, with no apparent Reaper forces in the vicinity. Eventually, the passage took them to an open area that had a U-turn like passage; the bottom being opened up to give them a clear view of Menae's surface.

And the turian frigate that currently occupied one of its craters, flames long deprived of oxygen and non-existent, its bow smashed in from its crash to the surface, and spine cracked along the keel. One of its 'wings' was snapped off and lying absently from the ship, while the other one was broken and bent; and through the vessel's belly, was what looked to be the impact of something upon it; not a thanix, as that would leave an entry and exit wound; no, this simply had bent the hull. Marcus found out the assailant almost immediately; it was currently walking along the surface and away from them; a Reaper troop transport. Its body looked like that of a Collector's head, but with tiny legs to support it compared to other Reaper variants, and much more cumbersome. He watched as orange streaks seemed to constantly erupt from it, like projectiles from a volcano eruption, and impacted the ground; likely pods containing husks and fresh troops.

James came to stand beside him, exclaiming something in hespanic as he looked upon the crashed turian frigate, bereft of all activity, "That troop transport took down that frigate? I didn't think they had any weapons."

"They...don't," Garrus muttered, clearly disturbed by the sight as he turned away, his jovial mood suddenly dead, "Considering the hull damage, it probably just...swatted the ship out of the sky. Like a man does an insect."

"God," James said, "I...how many men were on that frigate?"

"The usual crew compliment is around...300," Garrus murmured once more, refusing to look upon the dead vessel, "And its likely none of them survived the crash."

"Reaper bastards," James said angrily, gripping his LMG with increased vigor, "You turians are giving 'em one hell of a fight, and they don't even think anything of it."

"They're the Reapers," Garrus explained, his eyes coming to meet Marcus', and then Liara's, "It took a whole fleet and then some to take down just one. Now we're learning just how tough they really are. And how tiny to them we are comparatively. Come on Marcus, we've got a Primarch to extract. I'm already reminded of my dead comrades enough in battle...I don't need to stare at that frigate any longer than I have to."

Coming to agree with him, Marcus ordered the squad to proceed, Marcus and Garrus reassuming their positions in the lead. They continued in relative silence, until Garrus stopped, eyes seeming to lose all emotion as he just looked straight up. Marcus stopped with him, knowing exactly what he was looking at, and knew how horrible it looked. But they needed to press on, and contemplating the death around them wasn't going to help. He lay a hand on the turian's armoured shoulder, who still didn't look at him, "I know Garrus. But its not help worrying about it. We need to get to Victus."

"My world. Its burning before my eyes, and I'm on this worthless moon, defending its worthless surface. The turian people weren't born on Menae. We were born on Palaven. I should be  _up there_ , not down here," the turian exasperated, raising a reluctant arm to point a certain orange speck, one of the largest, finger trembling, "You see that blaze of orange? The big one? That's where I was born...Cipritine. The capital."

"That's...rough," James awkwardly commented, "Got any family?"

"A father. A mother. A sister," his voice wavered, and Marcus felt the turian shudder, "And...and they're all  _up there._  Dead...or alive."

The spectre felt his heart go out to his dear friend, and if they were on the Normandy, he'd take the turian to the lounge and drink their sorrows away; his about Earth and Anderson, while Garrus for his family. But they weren't; they were on the battlefield, and they had a mission to complete. Sorrow could wait. He squeezed the turian's shoulder again, and this time he did rip away his eyes from Palaven, and met Marcus', "There's nothing you can do for them right now, Garrus. What you can do is save the future of your people by getting us to this Primarch."

The turian hesitated for a second before nodding grudgingly, cradling his rifle as he nodded again, as if to convince himself, "You...yeah, you're right. I'll...my family can wait. I just hope they're okay."

"They will be. They're Vakarians," he assured him, smiling slightly, "There's no Shepard without Vakarian."

That seemed to get Garrus smiling, and he moved forward with new determination, "Damn right."

They continued on for a bit, until they had to take cover as a turian fighter was shot down and smashed into the passage ahead of them, exploding. Garrus immediately rushed up to the cockpit and tried to see if the pilot was alive, but all he was greeted by was the limp body of a turian, his head at an unnatural angle. Sighing, Garrus climbed over the fighter to the other side, mimicked by the rest of the team, and they continued forward. It was looking bleak for the turian hierarchy.

It wasn't long before they encountered a few husks, abominations and the odd cannibal, but they didn't provide much resistance, and usually came in groups of three. With no cover, both sides had nowhere to hide and merely ripped into each other, which served in his squad's favor because they had shields; the enemy didn't. So they mowed through them, thinking nothing of it as they continued towards the firebase, and towards securing their Primarch.

After dealing with the latest horde, James angrily growled, reloading his shotgun, "God I friggin hate those things. And New York is crawling with the creepy bastards? Ehhh...I should never have left Earth."

 _Here we go. I swear to god, he needs to get over that resentment or we're going to have problems._ But to his surprise, it was Garrus who responded, tone clipped and calm as they pressed forward, met by no further resistance, "The fight will be everywhere, eventually."

"Leaving the fight just pisses me off!" James snarled, his caged anger deciding to unleash itself, but despite all that, Garrus remained calm and assured, never breaking.

"But you're here asking Victus to do the same thing," he responded, "Leave the fight to make nice in some...board room. Do you know how irritating and frustrating for a turian that is?"

"This summit is the only chance we've got," Marcus butted in.

"Noone's beating the Reapers alone," Liara stated, making her first statement in a while, "Noone will survive the Reapers alone."

 _We fight or we die._ "Liara's right. Sometimes to win the fight, you have to leave it."

"I just hope this summit wins the fight, or at least secures future victory," Garrus remarked, shaking his head as he stole a glance at Palaven, "Or its just another turian general removed from the battle and a weaker turian army made."

They continued further, watching an ensuing battle up ahead; Destroyers were finally making push against the turian lines, and some broke through to land on the planet's surface, thanix cannons tearing into and destroying whole firebases in one hit. Oculi drones flew overhead, battling turian fighters and interceptors and coming out victorious in most of the dogfights. Huskified Harvesters patrolled overhead, praying on any shuttles that dared to get close enough to the moon. It was a slaughter house. And the Reapers were loving every second of it.

"Just look at it makes me think, loco," James piped up, "What about this summit? I mean, the  _salarians_?  _The asari!?_ Where's the  _krogan_ and  _batarians_? Where's the meat?"

"Its not that easy," was Marcus' simple response, one Garrus seemed to easy finish in order to quell Vega's irritation.

"The krogan have never forgiven us for the genophage," the turian explained, "And the batarians were practically destroyed when the Reapers first arrived; plus the fact that they hate humans would never work beside your people unless absolutely desperate. But as for the krogan, that might change..." the turian trailed off, looking at Marcus. The spectre knew what he was referring to, but elected to ignore it as James responded.  _I just hope Wrex was able to convince them of what's at stake. If there's anyone I need the most for ground engagements, its the krogan._

"Oh, that's right; the genophage. The turians sterilized them," James seemed to say this harshly, shaking his head as he did.

"The salarians made it," Garrus countered.

"And the krogan hate them both for it," Liara ended, rolling her eyes over the pettiness, "And for good reason. I don't think I could look upon dying race unable to produce children without the fear of them dying in stillbirth or simply dying upon birth and say 'I did the right thing.' What was done to the krogan was horrible...unethical...immoral."

"That's why the salarians made it," Garrus replied solemnly, "Because they don't have a sense of morality. Or ethicality. Mordin was a perfect example. Stubborn bastard was sure the genophage was correct and always defended it. Even if the krogan are slowly going extinct from it, thousands of years later."

"So the krogan won't be joining us? Well shit," James cursed, clearly even more annoyed now at the news, "I've fought beside a krogan before; Blood Pack. Fought him during a Blood Pack raid on Fehl Prime, and then fought beside him when the Collectors hit. He was a tough son of a bitch, and he kicked those Collector's asses. Just imagine an army of them. Reapers wouldn't stand a chance."

"On the ground maybe," Garrus remarked, sighing, "But in naval combat, they will always be superior in every way."

They continued for quite a bit, their path undisturbed, and all of them silently observing the destruction above while also keeping a look out for hostiles. Soon, however, they came across what looked to be gunfire in the distance, followed by silent explosions. Garrus accessed the radio transmissions, relaying them through to Marcus' helmet.

"Pull back to the Operations Center! Form a  _thakla pato_ formation around the bunker! Standard line! Push 'em back! Form up, turians! Form up!"

"That's Victus," Garrus commented, suddenly sprinting down the passage, "He needs help! Thakla Pato formation is a V-like formation we use when commiting a last stand action; we only used it when we're pressed and trapped! If he's ordering its use, their perimeter must be breached! You want your Primarch? Then by the spirits, move!"

Marcus turned to his squad, "On the double-quick!" They rushed forward, weapons at the ready and prepared for combat. James looked eager, while Liara showed only a touch of fear, but Marcus and Garrus were determined, expressionless and gave off waves of professionalism that only accomplished veterans could give.

The firebase's eastern gate looked to be breached, having been torn from its hinges and tossed several meters into the base; likely by a brute. Charging inside in a standard firing line, the squad found the base overrun by Reaper troops; the steel walls had been breached and several of the bunkers looked to have been destroyed by heavy bombardment from harvesters, who were now flying off, confident they had done their job. And nearby, almost too close for comfort, was a Reaper Destroyer, at least half a mile away, and with its back turned to them, apparently firing at something in the distance.

Husks and abominations swarmed the base, with a few scions lagging behind, a platoon of cannibals, and at least three brutes pressing forward. To his trepidation, there was at least one praetorian in the center, providing suppression fire for the advancing Reaper troops while the main force was led by three marauders. There didn't seem to be any further Reaper forces, and the ground was littered with the eviscerated bodies of both husks and turians alike. And they were all advancing towards the right, where Victus and his men were holding out; reduced to platoon strength, and being converged on all flanks. The only thing that would save Victus and his men would be a miracle.

Luckily for them, Marcus Shepard was a walking miracle himself. As was the turian who had taken a rocket to the face and lived. And the Shadow Broker herself. Oh, and there was James Vega too; although he hadn't made many miracles himself. But that was besides the point. The point being: they had the enemy outflanked, and with the fact that they were (well, at least three of them) experienced Reaper killers, it would make this battle just that much easier on them.

They let the enemy advance continue until they had passed the gate, and then his squad emerged, weapons raised as they charged the enemy rear. Bringing his biotics to bear, Marcus brought one biotically fueled fist back and then sent it flying forwards, a flurry of biotic light dancing towards the scion taking up the rear's center. Liara initiated a reave technique on the right scion, a technique she had learnt recently apparently, while James' Revenant tore into the scion on the left, with the aim being to aim for its three heads.

The center scion screeched as Marcus' assault reached it, dark energy rippling around it and reassembling its atoms. Marcus wasn't far behind, using his biotics to lighten his mass and allow him to propel forward like a missile, body colliding with the scion with such force that much of it was just shorn from its two, stubby legs, the rest of its body exploding upon the firebase's abandoned armoury bunker. Liara's reave tore apart the three husks making up the right scion, and there was practically nothing left of James'. Turning around, they watched as Garrus took position behind a scorched rock, his sniper rifle perched ontop and coughing up shot after shot, the weapon able to do so because it used the old mass acellerators of three years ago, and not the heat sinks of modern day weapons that required thermal clips. The Reapers seemed confused at first, especially the marauders, but they quickly split their forces to deal with both the squad's counterattack and Victus' bastion.

Marcus, falling to one knee, let his mattock chew up the few abominations charging up at them, who promptly exploded, killing more than a few cannibals. One cannibal tried to sneak up on Liara, but only managed to drain three quarters of her shields before she picked up and tossed it away like a rag doll. A marauder ripped into her with its phaeston, but met a messy end at the barrel of Garrus' sniper rifle, who shouted his running line, 'Scoped and dropped.'

James chanted 'hooo rah!' as he emptied the last of his Revenant's ammo into a squad of cannibals on the left flank, before pulling out his shotgun and finishing them off with little to no trouble. He had a close encounter with one of the three marauders, who proved to be more of a challenge, but James simply rolled out of its line of fire, primed a grenade, tossed it, took cover and watched the marauder disappear in bright light.

All seemed to be going well, until Marcus saw the hulking form of a brute lathargically moving towards them on all fours, periodically standing up on all its back legs, slamming its chest with fists, before roaring, although they couldn't actually hear it, of course. It moved towards them, and Marcus was suddenly pouring every shot he had into the monstrosity. Garrus noticed as well, and did the same, but whatever shots they tried to land was ineffectual.

With a sudden realization, Marcus raised his rifle at the last second and fired a clean shot through its left eye, the bullet blasting out the back end. It seemed to roar in anger or pain at the impact, although both emotions were impossible for the creature, and it landed forwards, slamming into the ground, its right claw narrowly missing Garrus' head by a few inches. Stepping up to it, Marcus emptied a few more shots into its head before being satisfied it was dead.

Another brute moved to charge James, but Liara was already moving to bolster his position, Marcus ordering him to aim for the head while simultaneously, and ironically, pulling out his ML-77 Missile Launcher to deal with the third brute, which was charging towards himself and Garrus...again. Rolling his eyes, he took aim and fired, watching the rocket impact its shoulder, and blast off one of its shoulderpads harmlessly. He reloaded and went to fire again, but Garrus' voice was far more distracting, "Shepard! To your right!"

He turned, only to get a face full of husk as it pounced on him and tackled him to the ground, silence erupting from its usually groaning vocal box. Soulless, synthetic eyes looked into his as it began scratching at his visor and, terrified that it would rupture his suit, he brought his launcher up and rammed it in the head with all his strength, which caused its forehead to snap back and its frail body to crumple to the ground. And just as he thought it all over, the brute was upon him, Garrus falling back, yelling into the comm for Marcus to run. But he didn't. Instead, he did something incredibly stupid.

As it raised its bulbous, massive claws to crush him into a gorey, visceric pulp, Marcus raised the launcher, aimed for the chest, and fired, point blank. He felt the heat of the explosion as it ruptured its exposed, metallic ribcage and blasted all the perverted organs out from its molested body. The brute seemed to fall back slightly, eyes losing their horrific glow as its main systems were crippled. Unable to sustain itself, the huskified krogan fell forwards, almost crushing Marcus under its weight, and winding him in the process.

This was all too familiar.

This reminded him too much of that one time on Eden Prime. And so, he found himself saying the same thing he said then.

He commed his radio, "Get. This. Thing. Off. Of. Me."

He heard a chuckle over the radio, its flanged tone giving away its owner as Garrus, followed by James muttering something about him being 'loco' and how 'right his nickname was.' Liara seemed to give an unimpressed sigh, and Marcus was quickly exposed to it as James and Garrus, together, picked up and lifted the dead brute off of Marcus, the human's armor covered in black viscera and liquid.

"You are such an idiot sometimes," the asari scowled.

"Either that or get crushed," Marcus bit back, "I certainly wasn't ready to meet my maker yet."

"You could have rolled out of the way," Liara stated.

"Correction," the spectre growled, "I could have  _tried_ to roll away, and lost an arm doing so. Not to mention dying from the suffocation that would result from my suit being ruptured. So no, point blank rocket firing was the way to go."

"You are so completely loco," James chuckled, unable to hold in his mirth.

"Don't mean to ruin the fun. Really, I don't. Any other circumstance, and I'd join in," the turian explained, pointing to the back of the firebase, "But we have a Primarch in a very dire situation who needs saving."

Nodding, Marcus reloaded his mattock and lead the team forward. The praetorian was their only real worry now, and that was easily taken care of with the combined effort of the turian heavies and his squad. The rest of the Reaper troops were picked off piece meal, and the Destroyer seemed to have moved away, uninterested in what was happening below it. So by the time they cleared the base, all was safe.

The turian soldiers did not leave their positions however, and remained on the defensive, knowing an enemy counterattack was possible and going to happen. But from the looks of it, defending the place was pointless; there was nothing left of Firebase Veracity to defend. His squad simply took a breather as Marcus waited, watching as the man he knew was Victus from just looking at him, approach.

The man had jet black armor with brown stripes running down its length, with the Hierarchy insignia plastered ontop of his opaque visor and shoulders. He came to a stop, his stance reminding him of how Anderson stood, hands clasped behind his back in a way that commanded obedience. He looked down at Marcus, seeming to be sizing him up, before he spoke, voice smooth but clipped.

"Of all the reinforcements I expected, it wasn't two humans, an asari and Garrus Vakarian," Victus stated, eyes glancing over at Garrus, "Vakarian...where did you go?"

Marcus turned to the turian in surprise, who just shrugged nonchatantly, "You pointed out that there was a Reaper flanking movement converging on the right and threatening our emplacements? I believe your words were 'get those damn things the hell off of my men!' So I followed those orders, added a bit of turian hell, and then exaggerated alittle more. A bit of finasse. I hope I didn't dissapoint."

"Well my emplacements didn't fall for another half an hour, so I'll consider myself impressed at your...exaggeration," Victus stated, seeming to chuckle without even doing it, "But you did disappear for quite a while."

"Sore someone in need of help," Garrus remarked, snatching a glance at Marcus before looking back at Victus, "Being the gentleman I am, I donated by services."

"Indeed," Victus replied, ever vigilant, ever unflinching; he was a statue, without emotion and without a crack. It showed just how deep the military ran in the man's veins, and Marcus had no doubt that this guy had once been part of the turian blackwatch; the Hierarchy's special forces, and elite of the elite.  _How about that, eh? Human hand-to-hand combat versus turian hand-to-hand combat?_ Marcus knew he'd only win that fight because of his cybernetics, which naturally made him stronger and faster than any normal organic being, but without them, they'd be evenly matched. Marcus was broken from his thoughts by Victus' talking once more, eyes set on the spectre, "And I believe you are Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Commander of the Normandy?"

Marcus blinked for a moment, surprised, before regaining his professional composure, "How do you know my name?"

"Didact Irix had you pegged the moment you entered the system. He needed to keep tabs on all Reaper forces to keep a tally of their numbers. Of course, the SSV Normandy is well known throughout the galaxy by its reputation, and furthermore upon its commanding officer. Although why you are here is an entirely different matter."

 _Good. Straight to the point. No batting the bush. I can get to like this guy._ He straightened, nodding, "I'm sorry to be blunt on this, ArchGeneral, but I was sent here, under recommendation from the turian councilor, to extract the Primarch for the War Summit. I'm building an armada to fight the Reapers, and I need the turians onboard for it, which means getting my hands on the Primarch. Unfortunately for me, and the rest of the galaxy-"

"You have no Primarch to extract," Victus regarded solemnly, lighting nodding, "Yes, it has been crippling for morale to know our leader is dead. He was loved by our people as one of the greatest Primarchs whoever lived, and also one of many to not have been a wartime leader. Save for this war, of course. Although I don't know I'd even call this a war," he looked upon his men, reduced to little more than a company, "Its more like extermination. Its only war when both sides have an equal chance of winning. These Reapers...they're unlike anything we've ever encountered. You kill one, three more replace it. Destroy one ship...well, just doing that is hard enough."

_You think that's bad? Oh, it gets worse. The turians were only the third hit. What do you think they're doing to Earth? To Khar'Shan? Rounding up humans and batarians, turning them into their personal, brainwashed soldiers and shipping them off to fight for what? A campaign of total genocide? How can you stem hope from something like that? No Victus, you have encountered nothing. Not yet._

"ArchGeneral. There is another issue. You know with the Primarch's death, that someone has to succeed him. Someone of high military stature," Marcus reminded.

"I know my people's politics, captain. I don't need a human to remind me, no offense intended," the turian replied, inhaling, "I will inform Didact Irix immediately. He needs to know."

"I think you're confused, ArchGeneral," Garrus stepped in, eyes furrowed as he looked at him, "The Navy was last time's election; Fedorian was the ex-Didact. This time's the Army. Victus... _you're_ the new Primarch."

In that second, the man went utterly still; not so much as a breath. He just looked blankly at Garrus, before exchanging a look with Marcus, who gave a pathetic nod. He could picture the man's mandibles opening and closing, trying to find the words but unable to find them. Finally, he turned around, looking at the bunker, as if trying to keep his eyes off the giant globe of orange that was his homeworld above him. He spoke, although the words seemed to be more for himself, "I'm...Primarch Victus? Leader...of the Turian Hierarchy?"

"That you are," Marcus added sympathetically, knowing how overwhelming it must be.  _I just hope he doesn't let the politics corrupt him._ "You're needed at the War Summit. I'm sorry to say, but we need to extract you immediately. Your survival is of absolute necessity."

As if pulled by a piece of string, Victus looked up at Palaven burning above him, and responded, voice full of ice, "You come here, watch my world burn, save my men from a slaughter, and then ask me to leave this all to have tea and biscuits with a few politicians, living in safety and luxury in some office on the Citadel?" he sighed, his brief moment of anger vanishing, and replaced with sorrow, "I...I had a wife on Palaven. I loved her, and she loved me. My son is military, Navy of course, and was recently given command of a frigate called the THS Honor and Loyalty. Spirits smile upon me, he was refueling at the Citadel when the Reapers hit, and I believe he has regrouped at a Council space station over Bekenstein," he turned to meet Marcus' eyes, and he could definitely feel the melancholy, "My wife was not so lucky. I was evacuating her and myself from our apartment when the husks landed outside. I was injured, and therefore forced to watch as they...they didn't kill her. They just dragged her away...broke her legs, and carried her away...I can still hear her screaming. What have they done with my wife? I shall never know. Because me and my men are stuck on this moon, defending its worthless existence, waiting for counterattack orders that will never come."

Marcus gulped, wanting to tell him, but not doing so because the truth of it would hurt more.  _What would I tell him? That his wife was taken away to a Reaper concentration camp to be turned into another Reaper abomination? That she was likely one of the marauders he was fighting today? Or likely fighting her son somewhere else in the galaxy? No. I could not tell him that._

_What if I heard someone tell me Tali had been turned into a husk? That I had been forced to kill her? What would I do to them?_

He didn't like the answer.  _I wouldn't touch them. No, I would pull out a pistol, load it, and then-_

Victus, taking Marcus' silence as a 'I'm not backing down' stance, gave a brief nod, "Give me time to say goodbye to my men. I will need to transfer my command over to one of my field generals; likely Corinthus. The man has been looking for a promotion for quite a while, and is almost as calm as I am; he can handle it. I hope that is not too much."

"Take all the time you need, Primarch. I know all too well how...final...goodbyes can be," he winced at those words, grimacing at their hidden meaning.  _You knock off that fucking defeatist bullshit, trooper! Pull yourself together! She is not dead! She is not dead! She is not GODDAM DEAD! So get your finger out of your ass, leave daisyland through the exit, and ask the Grim Reaper if he could go fuck himself. Because you have ALOT of work to do._

_And that involves politics. Oh yes,_ _**politics.** _

Victus went off to speak with his men, while Marcus turned towards his squad. James had holstered his shotgun and was helping a few turian marines drag the corpses of the dead Reapers over into a corner, where they were forming a organic barricade of sorts; it was a tactic that went back to the days of the Spartans of Greece, the Roman Republic, Parthia and the other civilizations of the Classical Era. Liara looked exhausted, and leaned on one hip very noticably, giving him a thumbs up. Garrus simply looked at him, showing how hard it was for turians to get tired, while speaking, "So...Primarch Victus. I bet he's just thrilled about that. He's not only left his wife and homeworld to die and burn, but now he's about to leave his troops too to do...what? Sit around all day? How very lazy."

"Don't give me that shit," Marcus snapped, "You know there's no other choice."

"Yeah, of course I do. And that's what pisses me off," the turian replied in defeat, shaking his head as he glanced up at Palaven, "That's probably what's pissing Victus off. What did James say? Leaving the fight. Leaving the fight to win it; get to play safe while men die to protect this stupid moon."

"It'll get better," the spectre muttered, "It has to."

"That sounds like words of desperation than actual fact," Garrus replied, "But I believe you; if not me, who will?"

"Does that mean you'll be joining us?" he found himself asking, but quickly made to reword his blunt question, "I mean, I won't force you or anything. You can stay-"

"Spirits, have you gotten even more idiotic? Of course I'll come with you. Didn't you listen to what I just said? Typical human ignorance," the turian replied smugly, one of his mandibles twitching in mirth, "Besides, what's left for me here? Just a dustball of a moon, a burning homeworld and men being slaughtered left and right. Might as well achieve something."

"Don't you just fucking hate war?" Marcus asked, the question more genuine than humorous.

"And its barely begun," was Garrus' short response.

By then, Victus had returned, hands still clasped behind his back, "I have said my goodbyes, Captain, and I am ready to leave at your leisure. Better now than never. I've informed my men that they'll be regrouping at Firebase Reach, where their command will transfer to Corinthus. He's been informed of his promotion. He was less than thrilled," he sighed, rubbing the back of his helmet.

"He didn't strike me as the man in a situation where he wanted to be given even more responsibility, but we have no choice. The Hierarcy needs its Primarch for that Summit," he moved to comm the Normandy for pickup, but stopped when Victus cleared his throat, regaining his attention.

"About that Captain," the Primarch stated, meeting Marcus' eyes, "I can't give you the turian military for your armada; not at the moment. Not while my homeworld is still burning."

Widening his eyes in surprise and anger, he took a step forward, and was in Victus' face in an instant, "We are doing this  _for_ Palaven.  _For all_ the homeworlds."

"But," Victus hammered down, clearly not finished or liking the invasion of his personal space, "If the pressure could be taken off of Palaven and Menae, maybe a large percentage of it can be donated to this armada. Maybe, when the time comes, all of it."

"Take the pressure off?" Marcus scoffed, turning away as he turned his back to the turian and crossed his arms, "That's a pretty tall order."

"Not as tall as some might guess. The naval situation is hopeless, but not for the ground. We need soldiers. Tanks. People born for war," Victus left that hang in the air before continuing, hammering in his conclusion, "We need the krogan. I can't see us winning this thing without them. Get Palaven the krogan support it needs, and then we're all yours."

"The krogan?" Garrus stated bluntly, just as confused. Marcus turned and looked at him with a look of wide-eyed surprise, and James just laughed, managing to say "Guess we're getting the meat after all" inbetween inhales of oxygen. Marcus wanted to rub his temples, but knowing he couldn't, simply turned away, nodded, and went back to radioing Cortez for pickup, hoping the situation with EDI was cleared up sufficiently.

_The krogan? The bloody krogan? He wants me to get the krogan and the turians to work together? Yeah, sure Victus! Resolving a thousand years of justified hatred? No problem! Fuck sake, as if the political situation wasn't already fucked beyond repair._

_Krogan._

He hoped Wrex had been doing what he told him to do, or this was going to be a very long War Summit.

**"So began the War Summit?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes indeed. What a bitch."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Sorry for the late update. Was spending far too much time playing GTA V with a friend of mine, and my addiction with Destiny has gotten out of hand. Hopefully this will not happen again, and future updates will be faster.** _

_**Hahahaha, what I just wrote was bullshit. It will happen again, because I FUCKING LOVE Destiny, and I have A LIFE OTHER THAN FANFICTION.** _

_**Now that my agitated episode (over nothing) is over, I shall now return to writing the next chapter. Fuck you all. Jk. Lol. YOLO. SWAG. I'm a twelvie now!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	10. The Blood Shall Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reapers attack Feros. Shepard and Hackett form a galactic alliance for the great powers to rally behind: the United Galactic Confederacy (UGC). EDI surprises the crew with a new development. Cerberus pursues a team of defecting scientists protected by Jacob. Shepard helps a salarian spectre track down an indoctrinated hanar diplomat, and runs into an old friend.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER NINE:**

**THE BLOOD SHALL FLOW**

_June 4, 2186_

_0922 hours._

_Skyline Main Entrance, Settlement Perimeter, Zhu's Hope, Feros._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Fall of Feros._

_Colony Executive Shiala R'Ness._

Her breath was ragged, her throat on fire from her exertions. But she never stopped. She just kept running; to do not do so would be death. A death that was rapidly approaching her from behind. Her legs continued to be stretched to their limit as they took her further in their strides, her exhausted muscles attempting to convince her to take a rest. But she never stopped. She just kept running; to do not do so would be death. Instant death.

It had began ten minutes ago; gigantic forms of sentient starships descended from the sky, their gleaming, crimson hulls and gargantuan legs a testament to their power. Three of them descended, each bigger than skyscrapers, and one had immediately landed on the old ExoGeni Headquarters building, crushing it with its weight. But there had been more; more that were smaller, but just as menacing; and they had deployed the horrible creatures that were currently chasing her. She knew who they were, what they were; she had met one during her time as Saren's obedient servant; when she had been indoctrinated. Reapers. They were here. And they were here to harvest the entire Feros colony.

A red beam had cut straight through the Prothean Skyline like it was butter, cutting off Zhu's Hope from the ExoGeni side of the colony. She had seen it and, telepathically, she had informed Juliana of the incoming Reaper forces, and the evacuation had begun in earnest. And now here she was, running for her life, tears falling from her eyes. But it wasn't tears of sadness for her life. No, it was tears for  _her_ life.

Arcelia Silva Martinez; that had been her name. She had been a human, a 'rent-a-cop' that had worked for ExoGeni until the Thorian had been unearthed, and they had all fallen under its control. Shiala hadn't though; she had served Saren when she was indoctrinated by Sovereign. It had only been when Saren sacrificed to the Thorian to gain the cipher; only then had she been freed of her indoctrination. Silva had been under the Thorian's control until Lieutenant Commander Marcus Shepard arrived, fought off the geth, and destroyed the Thorian, ending its dominion over them. Shiala had been freed, and instead of serving Saren, she gave Shepard the cipher, and then pledged her life to helping the people of Feros recover; it was the least she could do to atone for her crimes.

But it seems the Thorian's legacy wasn't completely gone; its spores were still in their veins, and it had changed them forever; gave them unique abilities, including limited telepathy. It was odd, but the Thorian had controlled them through this telepathy, and when it died, its control was lost, but its abilities passed down onto them, allowing them to use it. It also changed the pigment of her skin; no longer was it the normal blue of most asari, now it was dark, sickly green; like the Thorian had been. But now the colony could communicate through their minds, all except Elizabeth Baynham; the only one left unaffected by the spores or the influence of the now dead Thorian. A Thorian that had been dead for three years.

But now she wept, and as she ran, she couldn't help but continue to look back at times, never having been as afraid as she was right now. But she was also letting all the sorrow pour out of her. She had been supposed to protect them; and they had died anyway. A simple scouting mission; scout for resources, return to the colony. They could have gotten home safely. But they hadn't, and now the fight of their lives had begun.

Shiala was all that remained of that small team, and as she looked behind her, she could see Martinez, and the rest of the team, now transformed into husks, moving towards her at a jogging pace, their ear-piercing moans chilling her to the bones as she turned back around and continued running towards the Zhu's Hope garage. With hope, they'd already be evacuating. She ran as fast as she could, just keeping ahead of the husks, but it wouldn't be long before they caught up. As she turned back, she met the husk's, once known as Arcelia Silva Martinez, eyes, glowing with blue intensity and berefit of all life and emotion. Completely lifeless. She remembered how the woman originally looked; and now she was just a cybernetic abomination.

A Reaper airhorn sounded behind her, reminding her of the actual Reapers behind her, the monolithic constructions now proceeding to converge on the building holding Zhu's Hope. The planet of Feros was doomed, that much was obvious, but the population could be saved. They'd head to the Citadel, find help there.  _I know we will. We have to._

She picked up the pace, and she quickly got through the threshold of the garage, slamming it shut by punching the controls. The moans were cut off, but the piercing airhorns of the approaching Reaper warships would not be ignored. And she knew from the creatures she had seen chasing her, some of them being more than just huskified humans, that the garage door wouldn't hold them for long.  _But it'll hold them long enough._

The asari turned around, wincing at the minor scratch on her arm that the huskified Martinez had managed to land on her arm, but quickly shrugged it off, moving up and towards the elevator, hoping the colony was already half-evacuated. It was times like this that she wished Fai Dan was still alive, and that he hadn't committed suicide under the Thorian's control. He was definitely a better leader than Shiala, and would have kept Martinez in line when she got subjugative.  _She's a nice person when you talk to her personally, but when it comes to democracy? She just wants everything to be run her way. Damn it, why do I have to be in charge? I offered to rebuild the colony, not lead it. That was Juliana's job._

But the woman had given command to Shiala, seeing as she was 'better suited' to it than her; it allowed her to spend more time with her daughter, Lizbeth, and tending to Doctor Reynolds, who had fallen sick with the fever not too long ago; a few months, maybe. And as the asari ex-commando entered the elevator, hitting the controls for it to elevate into the colony, she cursed her luck, but knew she had no other choice.  _These people need a leader. If Juliana won't lead them and noone else will, than it has to be me. Simple as that, as unfortunate as it is._

Images of Martinez and her team being impaled on spikes and transforming into those horrible creatures flash in her mind, and she cries out, not enjoying them. The Thorian may have freed her of the Reaper indoctrination upon her, but there was still enough of it lingering for the Reapers to send flashes of imagery through her mind; they couldn't control, manipulate or guide her anymore, but they sure as hell could mess with her mind. And she hated it.

The creaky elevator finally made it to the top, the conveyor belt in the middle sliding down, allowing the rest of the door to screech as it slid open on its hinges. Running out, she immediately spun left, and then left again, before moving right and into Zhu's Hope; her home for the past three years, and home to the remaining colonists of Feros, and now their last stand.  _Just like the Eden Prime War. Except this time its the masters we must flee from, not the puppets we must fight off._  The geth were nothing compared to the overwhelming might of the Reaper armada, Saren had taught her that much when he corrupted her former Matriarch, Benezia M'Soni. Both were dead now.  _Saren got what he deserved. But the Reapers arrived anyway. The Battle of the Citadel was for nothing._

She rushed into the encampment, where she saw a civilian-colored shuttle hovering over an elevated platform; it was currently half-full of civilians, as she had hoped. Her eyes landed on Juliana Baynham, the woman coming into her early sixties, who was currently waving the colonists into the shuttle, one by one, while Lizbeth, only a few meters away and holding an avenger assault rifle lazily, stood on guard, watching for any enemies. She quickly, but pathetically, moved to raise her rifle, but upon seeing it was her green-skinned asari friend, she lowered it, a grin of relief covering her face, "Shiala! Thank God!" she turned back to Juliana, "Mum! Shiala's back!"

Shiala moved up to and hugged Lizbeth tightly, before the two parted and leaned in for a brief kiss on the lips. Their relationship was fairly new, as they had both kept their feelings secret for quite a number of time, and of course those feelings had to develop over time, but they did eventually, and five months ago they became a couple, with Juliana's blessing. Shiala didn't know whether she loved Lizbeth or not, but she knew she wanted to bond with her, and that was close enough. After breaking the kiss, Shiala hugged Lizbeth again before yanking the rifle from her grip and running over to Juliana, face contorting in fear, "How's the evacuation coming?"

The woman turned towards her, her tired, worn and wrinkled features coming to meet her smoother ones and quite clearly torn in frustration, "Not fast enough. The Reaper forces will be here by the time we finish getting everyone on the shuttle," a frown creased her lips and brows, and seemed to look behind Shiala for a bit, eyes searching the colony. After a bit, she looked back at Shiala, still frowning, "Where's the rest of the team? Where's Arcelia?"

"She..." Shiala sighed, a tear leaving her eye, "We were caught during the initial Reaper landing. Damn Troop Transport landed and began swarming our location. I...was forced to declare a retreat, but they team was captured and impaled on these...spikes. Dragon's Teeth, you humans call them. Within seconds, they weren't people anymore. They were...husks. I'm sorry Juliana, there was nothing I could do. I ran here as fast as I could, but now a massive husk horde, including our team, is banging on the hanger door and it won't be long before they break through. We need to hurry this up."

Juliana had a brief look of sadness in her eyes before quickly nodding, "Of course. Time for mourning later. Lizbeth! Get on the shuttle! We're leaving now!" Shiala nodded, turning to Lizbeth and waving her over. The human nodded with enthusiasm, clearly eager to get out of there. Just as she walked into the shuttle however, an airhorn sounded, loud and close, deafening them for a few seconds as they covered their ears, looking up to the source.

It descended down from the clouds like a demon from hell, long legs spreading out to absorb the impact of its landing. The Reaper Destroyer slammed ontop of the docking bay, legs caving the roof in and sending plumes of smoke up into the air where it landed, its immense frame standing tall amongst the colony infrastructure. Two covers on its main body folded apart to reveal a gleaming red eye as it stood to its full height, pulling its legs out of the bay as it took aim at the colony...and fired, airhorn blaring.

The laser hit the center bunker, instantly vaporizing it and creating a crater that was quite deep; the shockwave sending all of them onto their asses. The Reaper wasn't finished, and began cutting a swath of destruction through the entire colony, sending ruptures of smoke and flame into the sky, destroying everything it could find. And just as Shiala thought the worst had arrived, she heard moaning, and turned left, cheeks losing their color in horror of what she saw.

The garage had obviously fallen, as she now watched Arcelia's husk, followed by the rest of the horde, slammed forward towards them like a hurricane, moaning and snapping and growling and howling, eyes demanding their submission and death. The Reaper blared again, but this time a voice erupted from it, and it sounded deep throated and horrifying,  **"I am Oblivion. The seed of your eradication."**  As if to push across its point, it fired its weapon once more, the remainder of the skywatch apart and they all watched it burn asunder. In the distance, they watched as more Reapers approached, and Shiala knew they had to leave or die.

She turned to the other husks, watching as Reynolds, desperately trying to limp away, was tackled to the ground as Arcelia leapt on him, jaw clenching around his throat and tearing away his jugular. His scream was cut short by this and she watched as he disappeared under fifteen husks, many of the creatures tearing him apart, blood gushing across the ground in a sea of red. She felt sick, and summoned her biotics, sending a shockwave down their ranks to slow them down as she turned back to Juliana, worry in her eyes. Shiala knew they wouldn't be able to take off without a distraction; not with those ranged husks and that 'Oblivion' watching. Someone needed to stay behind. Someone...with combat experience in delaying actions.

Her eyes met Lizbeth's, a melancholy beginning to form in their deep pits.  _Oh, my Lizbeth. I did not get to tell you how much you mean to me. I'm so sorry._

Lizbeth heard her thoughts, a sob escaped her as she covered her mouth.  _No, I know what you're thinking! Don't be a fool, Shiala! You know you can't possibly hold them off!_

Shiala smiled, shaking her head, but the smile quickly died, its humor lost on her.  _Do you think I intend to successfully live through this? Lizbeth, I am merely going to buy you and the colonists time to escape. That Reaper...Oblivion...he will kill you, and those husks over there, if you don't escape. And you won't escape if someone doesn't stay behind._ She paused for a moment, sending another shockwave the horde's way, and once again stalled their advance, turning back to Lizbeth, who had tears in her eyes as she tried to rush Shiala, but her fellow colonists held her back. By now, the asari could feel Reynolds' sticky blood sloshing past her boots like the flow of water, and she almost hyperventilated at that moment.  _Get yourself together! You are...were...an asari commando! Hone your skills and use them! You need to buy them time!_

 _Don't do this,_ was Lizbeth's response.

The pain was becoming too much to bare, and Shiala simply shook her head, another tear streaking past as she turned away,  _Goodbye Lizbeth._

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and a weapon landed in her grip, eyes glancing from the SMG up to Juliana's. Lizbeth's mother gave her a look of understanding and then embraced Shiala, a hug she awkwardly reciprocated. "We'll never forget," Juliana whispered, pulling away and nodding erratically, "Never. The colonists of Feros will never forget. We'll go to the Citadel, find Shepard."

"Tell him I told him to give the Reapers hell and to make it count," Shiala replied and gave him a firm nod, motioning to the shuttle, "Now get out of here, Juliana. Your daughter will try and stay behind with me; make sure that does not happen. She will mourn, but you will be there with her. And thank you," she stopped her movement, turning towards Juliana one last time, "For forgiving me. After Fai Dan's death, and all I've done to you. Thank you for your forgiveness, and I hope it was not misplaced."

Juliana's response was simple, "It was not." Then she was gone, and the shuttle doors closed. Shiala watched it slowly ascend and then she turned back around, inhaling a deep breath of air in her lungs as she turned towards the Reaper horde, raising her SMG and summoning all of her available biotic might. It was what little she had left.

She watched the horde converge upon her, and Oblivion seemed so focused on her that it did not even notice the shuttle full of colonists leaving. That or it simply didn't care; the Feros colony wasn't that big to begin with, anyway. Its words reverbrated through her mind like echoes on the wind.  **"Your ignorance will cost you,"** it mocked,  **"You fight to save those you care about, yet it is in vain. You fight to avoid what must be done. We are the order upon the chaos of your evolution and existence. Your harvest is necessity born upon your pathetic imperialism. You cannot deny your genetic inevitability."**

"If there is one thing Shepard taught me," Shiala retorted, a slight grin tearing her lips as she raised her SMG at the husk of Martinez, snarling and charging at her at full speed, "Is that nothing is impossible. Saren once told me that Sovereign believed indoctrination incurable. Once under Reaper control, it is irreversible," she fired her weapon, and the burst cut through the husk's held like an overripe melon, finally putting Martinez to rest, "And yet I am, proof of that mistake. Spare me your words Oblivion, for I am no longer listening."

 **"So be it,"** Oblivion roared, simply watching the horde charge at her,  **"Your death will mean nothing. Forgotten by the next cycle, and the one after that. Know this as you die in vain."**

She cried out, letting loose with a flurry of biotic attacks, skills honed from her years as an asari commando of the Asari Republican military coming back to her mind as she concentrated and organized her assaults, aiming for the heaviest and most brutal of the hostiles while focusing her SMG fire on the smaller creatures, namely the huskified batarians and humans. She watched the hulking form of a transformed krogan moving forwards, its tiny turian head glaring at her with sickening intent, wide fists ready to crush her into a ichory pulp. They horde slowly pushed her back, but she held on, unleashing everything she had, but eventually she would tire, and she could feel exhaustion creeping into the edge of her vision as her biotics began to wear her out.

As she reached the edge of the Zhu's Hope encampment, now broiling with flames and choked with thick, black smoke, she thought of only one person, one she cared about immensely.  _Be strong Lizbeth. The war is not over, and I know you will mourn. Be done with it, and then fight on. Destroy the Reapers. Only then will my sacrifice mean anything. Keep the people of Feros alive. Let the people of the galaxy know that we survived a geth invasion, and we will survive a Reaper invasion. And most of all, tell Shepard...I owe him. He forgave me for what I did, and I never got to thank him for it. Thank you Commander...may the goddess smile upon you._

She cried out as she pushed forth another biotic warp, this one her last, as she soon fell to one knee, unable to keep up the fight that was draining her completely. She took in deep ragged breaths, and never took her eyes off the husks before her, which were swarming like locusts; the Reapers never seemed to run out of fresh troops, and they were sending every single one on Feros straight for her.

She raised her SMG with a shaky hand and fired three more bursts, the mere movement draining her remaining reserves. She had dealt a heavy toll on the enemy forces, but because of how quickly they replenished said forces, it might as well have meant nothing. She wouldn't be surprised if she barely dealt one percent of casualities on their forces. Probably not even a quarter of a percent.  _There's just so many..._

And Oblivion just watched, uncaring, and completely relentless.

She yelped as the SMG in her hand disappeared as a husk knocked that hand aside, five scratch marks trailing down her palm and beginning to leak purple blood. She staggered backwards, lashing out with her other hand and punching the husk straight in its face, the impact damaging some of its cybernetics, but not killing it. The husk just moaned and leapt forward, pinning her to the ground. This was it. This was how she died. Noone was coming to save her, noone would be anywhere nearby. And she felt...content with it.

_Lizbeth and Juliana are safe, along with the rest of the colonists, all heading for the Citadel. How could I-?_

She screamed as the husk's jaws clenched around her arm, tearing away flesh along with the cloth that covered it. She looked down in horror as the husk chewed on her flesh and spat it out, moaning as moved down to continue. All she could see was her pale green flesh, purple blood pumping out of the wound like a pump, and the pain was incredible. She lashed out with a headbutt, forcing the husk to pull away. But even as she did this, another husk came behind her and bit down on the back of her head, tearing away the tentacles that made up the scalp of asari heads. She bit down on her tongue by accident, and instantly regretted it as blood flooded her mouth from the wound, the taste bitter sweet. She ceased to fight back. Her death would be painful and agonizing, she knew that, but she was accepting of it.  _I just hope its over soon._

And in the destruction and flames of the Zhu's Hope colony, the screams of an asari being torn apart, piece by piece, by an angry, mindless horde were the only sounds that could be heard over the piercing airhorns of a small Reaper flotilla, burning and harvesting everything on the human colony. Shiala did die content, because those she cared about had gotten away.

And that was a victory upon itself.

But it was not the last people would see of Oblivion.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1529 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Siege of Menae._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Primarch Adrien Victus, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

Marcus stood in the center of the kodiak shuttle's troop bay, one hand holding the railing above while another dangled aimlessly at his hip, eyes scanning the area around him. He felt the weight of his armor and weapons on him more now than he did during battle, and that had always intrigued him; how the heat of battle could make him forget just how heavy his Terminus Armor really was, and just how much recoil and kickback his mattock rifle had. It was days like that that he envied his cybernetics; they gave him strength in sectors he sorely needed, and made him the perfect human supersoldier.  _And I only had to die once to get them...ha, funny that._

His eyes glazed over his team, and he felt a weak smile tug at his lips. Garrus sat next to Liara, the asari filling him in on everything that had happened from the Fall of Earth to Shepard's arrival on Menae. He listened to them chatting away, old friends brought back together and talking like nothing had gone wrong; but there was also a tinge of respect in them, and it was present in noone more than Garrus and Victus, both of who had just been forced to leave their homeworld in its time of need, both for entirely different reasons.

It was good to have another friend back on the Normandy, but it hadn't felt right to just take Garrus away like that. His homeworld was falling apart, and he had the audacity to ask the turian to pack his bags and leave to fight with him? What gave him that right?  _For starters, Garrus volunteered. Secondly, what would have eventually happened to him? You saw the battle for yourself; it wasn't a battle, it was a denial of reality. Palaven had already fallen, and Menae will soon fall too. The battle was lost as soon as Harbinger and his reinforcements came through that relay to bolster the crippled scouts on the other side. You saved Garrus, and he saved himself._

James sat next to Victus, Revenant collapsed in his lap and the marine carefully examined it, making sure no permanent damage had been done to his beloved LMG. He sighed happily as he leaned back, but Victus did not show the same emotions. The man sat with a stoic expression on his face, earned from years of turian militarism and drilling. The man allowed no emotion to play on his face, and only those who knew what he was going through could possibly know that something was wrong with him.  _It is for the greater good. We fight or we die._

Marcus knew he had to say something, or forever hold his silence. And he wasn't very good at holding silence, "I'm sorry you had to leave Palaven behind, Primarch. It...can't have been easy. I can't say I don't share your pain."

Victus rotated his head to look at him, face remaining stoic, his mandibles twitching only slightly, "How so, captain?"

"I was in the middle of counselling a few frightened politicians when Harbinger showed up on our front door in Vancouver," Marcus recounted, "That's when it began; the fall of Earth; my homeworld. I leapt through a skyscraper, Primarch, and I saw it all. I saw civilians get butchered in the streets, skyscrapers crumbling in the distance, skycars being shot out of the air, and flames lighting up the atmosphere. First time in human history that Earth got invaded, just like Palaven right now. I watched a battleship get torn in two like it was nothing. And in the end, I was forced to watch children be incinerated as they tried to escape, while my ship took off and left Earth behind. And its worse knowing that Earth had fallen long before the Reapers had even gone atmo."

Victus seemed to ponder on this for a bit until James decided to add his two cents worth, "Leaving the fight really pissed me off. I wanted to just punch the captain and commandeer a shuttle and head back down there. I was so angry...but in the end, Loco was right. Earth can hold out, but it won't win the war, only delay our defeat. I've come to accept Loco's decision now, and I think you should too, Primarch, sir."

Victus leaned back, inhaling, before shaking his head, letting his head fall into his palms as his elbows leaned against his knees, "I never doubted the captain for a moment. I knew what had to be done, and did so willingly. And while watching your world burn through a viewport as you leave is a pain no person should go through, it is necessary for men like us to do so, so that that world may still be standing later on. No, I hold no grudges captain. I only hope that by this necessity, a optimistic outcome is birthed."

 _Optimistic outcome._ Those two words reminded him of Victus' request, and how much it made him both worried and excited.  _Securing a krogan alliance with the turians. And undoubtedably with the salarians, which will be even harder. That worries me, but yet again, I'll see Wrex again, and he's in charge on Tuchanka, so I can count on him to keep the krogan from getting roudy. Of course, there's also Grunt; the baby krogan super killing machine. Why do I always get the weird ones?_ He looked at Victus, nodding meekly, "Optimistic outcome, Victus? I can promise that. Gurantee it, actually. But securing an alliance between the Hierarchy and a blood thirsty race of warriors neutered to close extinction by that Hierarchy isn't going to be a walk in the park. It might take alot of convincing. And I mean  _alot_."

"Then let the talks begin. Because while Palaven is burning, the turian military is focused on nothing but its preservation," the Primarch stated firmly, making it clear he would not budge on this topic, "When turian troops begin to see krogan soldiers raining hell on the Reapers, then the full might of the Hierarchy's armed forces will be yours. Only then, not before."

"I understand, Primarch, completely. I just wanted you to know the stakes here," Marcus stated, "I did not mean to insinuate otherwise. A krogan-turian alliance would not only be history in the making, but it would make for a powerful coalition and would bolster morale throughout the galaxy."

"If the krogan and turians, two races who have hated each other for a thousand years, can become allies and fight side by side, and that's impossible, then what's impossible about defeating the Reapers?" Garrus elaborated, showing his quick grasp of what Marcus meant, "Yes, morale would go soaring. All we need now is for the first quarian-geth couple, and the galaxy will get so cocky, they'll be throwing pineapples at the Reapers."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," Marcus joked, glad the solemn silence of the shuttle had been broken, "Let's get this impossible coalition over with before we start declaring goals for another one."

"Are you always like this?" Victus asked, seeming to be confused.

"Yes, why not?" Marcus asked, still grinning, "Me and Garrus banter all the time. Insult each other and mock each other. It helps us think and fight."

"Victus is probably surprised at my terrible turian quality," Garrus quipped, shaking his head, "Its against regulations for a subordinate to banter or even engage in a friendship with his superior officer in the turian military. Says it 'causes disruption and makes subordinates too familiar with their commanding officers.'"

"Sounds alot like fraternization protocols in the Alliance," Marcus noted, "But alot more harsh. My drill sergeant didn't care if I bantered or not, but if I started throwing insults, it was on the ground and doing fifty. A hundred, once I enlisted for N5."

Victus' response was cut off by Cortez's voice yelling out from the cockpit, "Captain, ETA 20 seconds out from the Normandy. Joker's asking what took so long."

"Tell him I'll take as long as I want," Marcus joked, sighing as he moved over to the hatch, followed by Victus and the rest of the squad, "Also tell him I want an update on that situation with EDI."

"Yes sir," Cortez replied, before bringing the shuttle into dock with the stealth frigate.

Garrus was at his side in a second, voice curious but whispered, "Situation with EDI? Has she finally rebelled?"

He held back a chuckle as he whispered back, "No, unfortunately, its something alot less dramatic. I'll tell you later when we're not in sight of Primarch Victus. You've heard about Eva? The synthetic we fought on Mars?"

"Yes."

"And how we defeated it, and brought it onboard the ship for testing?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"We stored it in the AI Core. And the next thing you know, she starts acting up and systems starting shuttinf down."

"Oh," Garrus revelated, nodding as he pulled his head away, "That sounds very dramatic and very serious. Take pictures please."

Marcus sighed, rolling his eyes at the turian's inability to take really anything seriously. Before he could find a response, he felt the shuttle thump against the steel deck as it landed, and the hatch split open, the Normandy's interior welcoming them inside. Ever since the completion of the retrofit on the Citadel, all the loose cabling had been removed, the walls finished and painted, and the flickering lights fixed. Now it looked like a proper frigate, not one in drydock.

"Its gotten darker," Garrus noted as he took a step out onto the deck. Just as Marcus landed on the deck and removed his helmet, the turian looked at him, his own helmet pinned under his own arm, mandibles twitching in distaste, "I don't like it," his eyes glazed over to the makeshift armoury and his eyes widened, "They moved the armoury? Shepard, just what did they do to the Normandy?"

"Cut open the belly, moved the intestines alittle, completely removed the heart, and replaced it with a third lung," he joked, sighing as he moved over to the armoury, steadily removing more of his armor as he went, "Short story made even shorter; the Alliance fucked it up Garrus, but they did keep the thanix cannon. And before you ask, yes, the gunnery station has been left relatively untouched, although with some upgrades I think you'll like."

"Seems my sniper rifle will not be taking non-Reaper lives today," Garrus quipped, moving towards the elevator at faster speed, "Well, I think we all know where I'll be making camp. Since the Alliance went and messed up the place, I have no doubt alot of calibrations will have to be made," he seemed to sigh happily at that, "Yes, lots of calibrations."

"Goodbye Garrus," Marcus waved, sighing in feigned irritation, "Try not to strangle any armoury officers on your way there!" He shouted after the turian, but shortly found himself ignored as the elevator doors closed behind the turian, no doubt taking the marksman to the Crew Deck. Victus could only look on in shock as James moved past him, dumping his Revenant on the weapons bench while Marcus commed the cockpit PA on the bay's right support strut, speaking into it as he continued removing his armor and putting his weapons away, "Joker, get us out of here."

"Anywhere you'd like to go in particular?" Joker replied, clearly annoyed at something. Probably had to do with another system failure.  _Better get Victus acclimated, and then see how Keeling's going with EDI. Can't have her acting up while we're stuck in a battleground._

"Just hit the relay. Take us to the Citadel, but do not dock. I doubt we'll be hanging around for long. We'll contact the Council and see where and when this War Summit will occur, and then we'll head for that location. Can't afford to hang around. Get going, Joker."

The pilot didn't even reply as he disconnected, and a couple minutes later, Marcus finished cleaning up, now dressed entirely in just his normal civvies and cap, with only a pistol strapped to his hip. Frowning at it, he removed it, examined it with confusion, and then put it away.  _Odd, I don't remember strapping it there. Am I really doing that subconsciously?_

He shook away that thought, and turned to see if James was finished, only to find him already at his work station on the left side of the bay, clad in his white singlet, dogtags and jeans, and broad shoulders pumping as he began to groan with effort, beginning his pulls ups on the metal bar stretching horizontally across his station.

Cortez walked past him towards his station, throwing a salute in his direction as he returned to his console and began typing in commands, a frown on his features. Seeing the man was deep in thought, he merely turned towards a waiting Liara and Victus, and motioned them towards the elevator, hitting the icon for the Crew Deck. After stepping out, he briefly showed Victus where his quarters would be during his stay on the vessel, and then they reentered the elevator, heading for the CIC; Marcus figured the man could work in the War Room, given his military background.

It didn't take them long to make their way through the conference room and into the War Room, where it showed to be a bustle of activity. Intelligence reports were flooding in from all over the Apien Crest region, and it was taking the War Room's specialists and advisors time to sort all the data. Marcus showed Victus to his station, coming to stand beside it, his hands clasped behind his back, "Victus, this is where you'll be staying for the majority of the conflict until we get this krogan-turian alliance sorted out. I hope you don't mind. The War Room is fairly new to me."

"The War Room is where old war hounds like us reside, is it not? It will do fine, Captain," Victus assured him and, still wearing his medium armor tinted with dried black ichor and littered with potmarks and bullet holes, moved over to the console and nodded, leaning against its surface as he brought up a image of Palaven on the table's holographic interface.

Marcus merely nodded to him, and was moving to talk away when he bumped into Kelly, who stood there with a weary smile on her face, holding her datapad before her. Before he could fumble for anything to say, she spoke, her smile strengthening with mirth as she did, "Captain, you have Fleet Admiral Hackett wishing to speak with you over the QEC. I believe it's in response to your recent success at extracting the Primarch."

"Thank you Kelly," he smiled at her, "Glad to see you're fitting in nicely."

"I was alittle angry that Comms Specialist Traynor stole my spot," she teased, "But I do quite like it in the War Room. I think I'll get used to it."

"Glad to hear it Kelly," he nodded to her, clasping her shoulder in reassurance before turning away and walking into the QEC, noticing Liara walk out with Kelly as they chatted on his way there. He smiled, knowing the two would get along just fine. He crossed the threshold between him and the QEC, and typed into the console, watching the blue, pixelated form of Hackett congregate in the middle, molding his holographic form before him, hands clasped behind his back and position strong.

"Captain," Hackett spoke, giving a curt nod, "I heard you recently extracted Primarch Fedorian from Menae for a...War Summit?"

"Primarch  _Victus_ , sir," Marcus corrected, "Fedorian was dead when we got there, so we got a replacement. And in answer to your question, yes, we did extract him, and we're just waiting for the War Summit now. But...there's been a...complication."

"Spill it, Captain. Any complications need to be resolved now. Are we getting turian support, or not?" Hackett asked, clearly impatient with the whole situation.

"Yes, we will sir. But at an added cost. It'll be a bonus for us, but extra work will be needed," the spectre replied, shuffling his feet as he exhaled, "Victus says he won't commit turian forces to the United Armada until he has krogan support. He wants the krogan in on this sir. He wants me to secure a krogan-turian coalition."

Hackett whistled, clearly impressed and annoyed at the same time, "Then it looks like you've got your hands full then, Captain. I can't say I'm optimistic about getting those two to work together, let alone fight side by side after the Rebellions, but if anyone can make it work, its you, Shepard. Also, did you just say 'United Armada?'"

Marcus chuckled, bracing himself against the console with a sigh, "I guess I did. Didn't know what else to call it, sir. This isn't just the Council. This isn't just the Terminus Systems or some rag-tag congregation of desperate idiots looking for hope. This is an alliance against the most powerful and vast enemy this galaxy has ever known. Remember the Second World War? How Britain was alone against the Germans and the Italians and the Russians, all until 1941? The United States, Britain, the Soviet Union, Australia...all of them united against a common foe, and together, they destroyed them, and gained more allies in the middle! We need to emulate that sir. We need to unite, fight together, and only then, will nothing stop us, not even the Reapers. The mercenary companies are only the beginning. I plan for the turians and the krogan to be next on the ladder, and then I'll see whether I can secure the asari and the salarians. After that, the vorcha. Then the elcor and volus. The hanar. The drell. And then...the quarians and the geth. It'll be an alliance like nothing this galaxy has seen, Admiral."

"And the biggest military in galactic history," Hackett sighed, "But I'm sure you also remember the League of Nations? The United Nations? They were failed unifications, Shepard."

"They weren't all desperate to survive against a common foe," Marcus countered, "In this, we have the perfect unifier; a fight for survival. I've been saying it non-stop, Admiral.  _We fight or we die._ There is no negoitations, and there will be no signing of a peace treaty. The Reapers won't stop until we're erased from the galactic history books. We fight to survive. That is what this war is; and only with these alliances, will we form the bigger cohesive one."

"The United Armada," Hackett quiered to himself, nodding, "Sounds catchy."

In an instant Marcus had the perfect name for it, "How does the United Galactic Confederacy, sound?"

"The UGC?" Hackett pondered, smiling faintly, "Perfect, Shepard. I'll relay this to the rest of the Admiral-" he stopped, and the smile was suddenly gone, replaced with a grim reminder of...something, "I mean, I'll inform the rest of the Admirals that are left. We just got informed that Eighth Fleet was delayed; it tried to regroup over Ontarom, but got ambushed by a Reaper battlegroup. Admiral Ward's flagship was hit and destroyed; he didn't survive. Most of the fleet is intact though; I've decided to promote one of our Vice Admirals to Fleet Admiral of it; I'm sure Avery Pointer will do well enough."

Marcus quickly lost his smile too, and shook his head. He had also met Duncan Ward during his meeting on the Citadel; the man had been very boring and reserved, but it still hurt to know the man had died, and all because of an ambush. It reminded him of Joseph Garrong's death. And Kastanie Drescher's.  _Three admirals gone, and the war is still in its infancy._ He looked back up at Hackett, nodding solemnly, "Relay the decision to the rest of the Admirals. See what they think. I...I've got to check something. I'll update you on anything else that happens. Shepard out."

A curt nod, and Hackett's form was gone, exploding into multiple pixels before they vanished as well and the QEC went dark. He walked out and down the steps towards Victus, about to speak when the lights went out, flickered, and then turned back on, but were dimmer, and began to flicker more frequently. Victus eyed him with confusion, and Marcus shook his head, already knowing the source and reason before Joker's voice came over the PA.

"Ah...Shepard?" Joker stated, "About EDI..."

"I'm on it," Marcus bluntly declared, marching out into the conference room, "Tell Garrus to meet me at the AI Core. Armed, preferrably."

Marcus quickly closed the distance between himself and the CIC, completely ignoring the metal detector as he moved past Samantha. The woman turned towards him, about to complain about her terminal constantly crashing, but he was already in the elevator and hitting the icon for the Crew Deck before she could finish.

The elevator seemed to sense his will and within moments, he was on the Crew Deck and moving towards the med bay in long strides, purpose in his eyes. Just before he raised his hand to open the door however, he felt an explosion shudder through the deck. It was small and contained, but he felt it, and Joker's voice quickly came over the PA again, "Shepard?"

"I heard, damn it!" He snapped, "I'm on it!" He hit the interface, and jogged inside.

Chakwas was nowhere to be seen as he entered, and for that matter, neither was Michel. But the room was far from empty. At the end was Adams holding a fire extinguisher, a oxygen mask over his mouth, along with Ken, who also held a fire extinguisher. Inbetween them was the form of Garrus, carnifex hand cannon strapped to his hip, with Keeling kneeled before him, her omni-tool constantly at work as she keyed numerous commands into the haptic interface before her.

Marcus moved forward, the frustration evident on his face even before he came to stand beside Garrus, the turian turning to face him with weary eyes, "Marcus, glad you could turn up," he turned back to the door, "This situation with EDI must be worse than we thought if I needed to bring my gun. Just how dangerous is this Eva?"

"The gun is a precaution, nothing more," Marcus warned, "Besides, I don't really think Eva's physical form is the problem. If she's managed to hack EDI and corrupt her, we're going to be in some pretty deep shit. We'd have to gut the entire Normandy just to get rid of her, and even then..."

"EDI is a friend," Garrus finished for him, "And we don't just kill friends."

"It'll be hard. But if she is corrupted, and she has full control over the Normandy. You know what needs to be done. Keeling?" Marcus turned to look down at the crouched N7, who seemed intent on getting the door open. But the more she tried, only the more persistent did the beeping of the red interface get. She sighed, standing up beside him.

"Shoddy, sir. I've tried everything I know, and nothing is working. Her grip on the door is absolute," Keeling stated, "If we had a combat engineer, things would be easier. But I doubt even they could break through. This is top level encryption sir; it'd take them years."

_Not Tali. Tali would hack through it in a minute; she's not only the best engineer in the galaxy, she's also had first hand experience with EDI's programming. Hell, even Legion could hack through it if it wanted to. Tali would have REALLY come in handy right about now. God I miss you. But where are you? And more importantly, where's the Migrant Fleet? Where'd you go?_

_Right, shit. EDI. Corruption. Focus. Don't let your mind wander._

"Let me guess...this is where you ask me to go get the Cain, and blast this door open?" Garrus concluded, looking at Marcus with a mirthless grin, "Because only a Cain is getting through this door; military steel is built to withstand rockets. Only a Cain is getting through that, and you know it."

"Straight to devastation, are we?" Adams quipped, shaking his head in disagreement, "We could simply cut the power to the door. If I can find the fusebox behind one of these bulkheads that powers it, I can cut off power and it'll open automatically; nothing holding it closed. It'll open automatically because of Alliance regulations regarding emergency losses of power; case in point, an EMP. Or a VI lockdown."

 _But they'd didn't plan for an_ _ **AI**_ _lockdown, did they?_ "Okay, get on that Adams. I wanted this door open yesterday. This mission is too important, and I can't have a corrupt EDI running the ship. Garrus, Keeling, ready your weapons. Be ready for-"

Suddenly, the red interface blinked, turned green, and the door shot open, revealing a ravaged AI Core. It looked exactly as it had a year ago; power cells and cores running along the walls, beeping blue with intense amounts of energy and electricity, forming EDI's brain. At the back would be a bench, where Legion had originally resided. Unfortunately, he couldn't see the bench. Flames licked at the power terminals, smoke bellowing around the room in a thick fog that made seeing the bench at the back, or anything really, impossible. The flames were small, but it wasn't that that Marcus took note of; it was the dents. They were subtle, but when you noticed them, you saw how big they were. Scorch marks potted the terminals and the floor, and dents not far away from them. Hell, one of them even looked look like a dent from a  _fist._ Someone had tried punching EDI's core. Slowly, a picture formed in his head.

_Eva. She must have woken up and tried to kill EDI! She had no weapons, so her fists were her only option. Holy mother of hell, she must be incredibly strong...but what the hell was that explosion all about? Did EDI retaliate?_

"Captain?" Marcus turned at the sound of Adams' voice, and saw him holding his fire extinguisher in a ready position, and slowly the spectre nodded, motioning for Ken and himself to move inside and extinguish the flames, while Garrus kept a grip on his pistol, eyes scanning the room for Eva.

Adams' and Ken's extinguishers growled as a jet of foam exploded from their bellies, white jets putting out flames where they stood, and causing smoke to dance and die. They continued to spread this foam all over the Core, and were about to move further inside, when all four heard a loud clang, followed by the sound of leg servos operating, and then a step was taken, followed by another. Eva was inside, and moving.

Garrus had his pistol raised in an instant, aiming at the source with extreme precision. Marcus felt the chill of his biotics swim up his body, enveloping him in their odd kind of warmth as he prepped to meet the synthetic head on; and she,  _it_ , had killed or hurt EDI in anyway, he would destroy it for good this time.  _Ha...never thought I'd say I'd kill someone for hurting my friend who is an AI. A friend who I'm literally_ _ **inside**_ _of._

The footsteps increased until they could make out the shadow of a form in the smoke. Finally, the form of Eva appeared from the mist, her steps graceful and placed, but there was something different about her. There wasn't the hostile or maliceful intent that had filled Eva's eyes when she had attacked Kaidan and himself, but there was friendliness in them...understanding. Her steps weren't the quickness you'd expect from someone trying to kill you, but graceful and preserved. Her metallic surface gleamed in the light of the AI Core, and there was, just like on Mars, nothing left of the artificial human skin that had made her look so humanly feminine; just a synthetic exoskeleton. She stopped, eyes landing on Marcus', and something of an awkward, poorly animated smile appeared on her steely lips and for some reason, he did not cringe. Everyone was silent.

Then it spoke.

"Shepard," the synthetic spoke, seemingly happy, and Marcus felt his eyes widen in shock, along with Garrus', at the voice coming out of it, "Judging by your surprise, I believe I have succeeded in 'catching you with your pants down,' as I believe the human expression goes."

Managing to recover from his moment of surprise, he managed to take a step forward, albeit hesitantly, still not believing what he was hearing, "I...I don't...EDI? Is that actually you? How the hell...?"

"Yes," EDI replied simply, and he noticed Garrus was slowly lowering his weapon.

"You're in Eva's body," Marcus questioned, still not quite grasping.

"Not all of me," EDI explained, "Most of my core processes, programming and everything you would call 'me' is still within the AI Core and the Normandy, but some of my minor core processes are...within this infiltration unit. But I do have full control over it. However, it was not a seamless transition."

"No shit," Marcus responded bluntly, waving at the badly damaged AI Core, "This place looks like a warzone. I even heard an explosion. What the hell happened in here?"

"I saw this unit, and thought of the squad. With Legion as part of your unit, the squad operated more efficiently. If I could take control of this unit, I surmized that I could emulate this pattern," the AI looked around the bay, before her eyes landed back on his, "I was in the middle of erasing its function controls, but when it got to the point that I needed to actually delete the AI itself, the one you call 'Eva', it fought back. Its firewalls detected more trespassing and attempted to delete me instead. Of course, my firewalls were superior but she was...persistent. Eventually, she reassumed control momentarily and...decided to take things to the physical level. Hence the explosion, and the dents in the walls."

"How did she take things physically?" Garrus asked, holstering his pistol.

"She believed she could cripple the Normandy by destroying my core. She did not realize how extensive my core was, and how heavily armoured it was," she smiled faintly, although it still looked incredibly awkward and forced, "According to my cameras, I do believe she looked like she was having, what you humans would call a 'spaz out.' This is because while she was trying to focus on moving her unit, she was also focused on fighting my intrusion, which means her attentions were diverted between both, making physical movements erratic. However, I was able to find a back door behind her firewalls and used my cyber warfare suites, which were superior to hers, to erase her. She has been deleted, and I know have control of this platform."

"So...you killed Eva?" Marcus asked, letting his biotics die off, feeling now that he was safe knowing Eva was dead.

"That is an inaccurate term to use for a non-organic lifeform. It would be more appropriate to say she has been...terminated from operational existence. All that is left of her is this body, which I now firmly control," EDI finished explaining, her eyes watching his and clasping behind her back; she imitated this better than smiling.

Garrus spoke first, "EDI, you should have informed someone about this before doing anything. You shouldn't do things like this by yourself."

"That would have been counterproductive," EDI informed him, now crossing its arms, as if it was a child learning all the gestures mummy and daddy used, "Any attempts to help would have been limited by reaction time."

Marcus sighed, nodding, "So if you're in there...are you still in the ship? I mean, you did say you were mostly in the Normandy, still..."

"I exist primarily within the ship. I am the Normandy," she stated, "However, this unit can now be used as a minor secondary vessel. And due to my limited operational capabilities within it, if it were to be destroyed in combat, I would suffer no harm; like a geth, I could merely upload the assuaged programs back onto the Normandy and into my core database. I would be unharmed."

"'Be destroyed in combat?'" Marcus quoted, eyes glancing at Garrus, before glancing back at EDI, "Wait, EDI, are you saying you plan on taking that body somewhere?"

"This unit is an optimal infiltration unit, built for stealth and espionage. It would be a suitable supplement for Miss Goto's abilities in her absence," the AI informed him, "For optimal control, it should remain within the Normandy's tight beam range. But yes, I do plan on 'taking that body somewhere.' With your permission Shepard, I would like to test it on the battlefield. I would like to join the ground team."

"I don't know EDI," Marcus pondered, clearly not sold, "You may be good at naval combat, but ground support? I don't think so."

"You're forgetting something Marcus," Garrus piped up, causing them both to turn to look at him, "EDI is an AI; like Legion, she learns at the speed of light, especially when its something logically placed. If she doesn't know how to fire an SMG, all she has to do is simply look at the person firing it, and in seconds she'll be a marksman. It isn't that difficult for her. She's already familiar with following commands, and think of the advantages we'd have. I mean, Tali is a fantastic hacker and all, but not only is she here, but a machine is simply  _always_ faster and better than an organic at hacking. Fight fire with fire? Why not fight machine, with machine? I mean, Legion worked out great in that regard."

"And he was the only one who could make you look like a shit shot," Marcus grinned, conceding to his point as he turned towards EDI, "Okay, we'll see about it. But I'd like you to run diagnostics on that body, just to be sure Eva is actually dead. I don't want to take any chances. Do a trillion checks if its necessary. Just ensure she's gone."

"An understandable precaution. I am running the checks now," she seemed to stare into space for a moment, before suddenly looking back at him, "Complete. I can send you a full report if you wish. At the moment, my first priority should be restoring full functionality to the Normandy; to reassure the crew that all is normal. I do Specialist Traynor is getting suspicious."

"Just...don't be surprised if the crew is alittle worried about your new body," Marcus warned, his voice becoming dark, but not enough for anyone to really notice and pick out, "It did put Kaidan in a hospital."

"An excellent point," EDI replied, moving to leave, "I will now head to the cockpit. Joker will want to see my new platform."

He simply smiled as the synthetic left, door closing behind her as Adams activated the Core's sprinklers, killing off the rest of the flames. Muttering to himself, he could only find mirth out of the situation, "On that, we can agree."

"That got weird...really fast," Garrus commented, before breaking out into a chuckle, slapping Marcus on the back, "Its good to be back."

"Damn right," Marcus sighed, wrapping an arm around his adopted brother's neck as they moved out of the med bay and headed towards the Lounge for a good drink.

_EDI has a new body, I got the Primarch I needed, and Garrus is back onboard. All in all, this depressing day just got better._

And for a moment, Marcus could forget the war. He had a friend to drink with.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1600 hours._

_'Humanity's Sanctum', Upper Levels, Cronos Station, Anadius System._

_The Reaper War._

_The Illusive Man, First Lieutenant Geoff Dielheart._

Cerberus. Humanity's first line of defense. Humanity's financier. Humanity's caretaker. Protectors of Humanity's cradle, Earth. Everything it has done has been for the sake of humanity, of its continuation and continued prosperity, and for its eventual rise to the stars and domination of the Council species, and beyond. Some called them terrorists, but Cerberus weren't terrorists: they were revolutionaries. Fighting a revolution to save mankind from the threat alien species posed, and putting a stop to them; either forcefully, or peacefully, or under-handedly.

So far, they had never resolved anything peacefully. The option just wasn't there.

And it had all started with a man named Jack Harper, a little human insurrectionist who had fought against the turian occupation of Shanxi during the First Contact War of 2157, and had seen first hand the brutality and impunity of the Council races, and what they could do, given the chance. He had met Saren Arterius before he became infamous, he had killed his brother, and he had known about the Reapers since long before Marcus Shepard stopped suckling his mother's breast. He had fought a husk on Shanxi, and he had forged the Manifesto that lead to the birth of humanity's saviours. The Alliance had nicknamed him the 'Illusive Man' due to his anonymous name, and he took the name with pride. He became that identity.

And now, the true leader of humanity, the closest version of the Illuminati there could possibly be in a galaxy like this, sat in his chair at Cronos Station, the headquarters of Cerberus in the Anadius System, looking blindly in the normally blinding sun of Anadius, which they sat in orbit of, his synthetic eyes saved from it due to the heavily tinted glass that rimmed 'Humanity's Sanctum', his own, massive office. He sat with a cigar in his mouth, and glass of whiskey in his hand, smoke rimming around his mouth. His second-in-command, Geoff Dielheart, stood on his right, datapad in hand and reading him the latest reports. Cerberus had grown alot in the past few months, and now they rivalled the military might of the Systems Alliance, but with a rapidly growing empire. All for the goal of defeating the only enemy that mattered at all; the Reapers.

"Petrovsky reports that Omega remains firmly under control sir, and the latest shipment of Atlas and Rampart mechs has just arrived, and Petrovsky's lieutenants are training the latest platoon of reserves. The particle beam weapons lining the station's perimeter are complete, and the population has remained under a tight leash, although the Talon mercenary group is making is fighting a shadow war with his forces; nothing to worry about, he says."

"So everything is fine with Omega. I got the gist of that," TIM stated calmly, as he always did, "How about Eden Prime? Was the CAW Tennessee successful in securing the New Hope colony?"

"Indeed it was sir, and reinforcements have recently arrived to assist in the occupation," Geoff reported, "CAW Tennessee is holding position over the colony and the Fifth Fleet recently arrived to secure the rest of the planet. It has rapidly fallen within our control, and a Cerberus flag currently flies over the capital. Alliance presence is minimal, and they seemed completely unable to respond sir. The Reapers appear to also be giving the system a wide berth sir."

"Good," TIM responded, "Now what about New Hope's ExoGeni excavation site? I want its excavation continued. If they're looking for prothean tech, I want to know about it. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Geoff responded, "Now, you wanted us to recall Kai Leng and the Third Fleet?"

"Yes, I've got a new colony I want under my control, and I want Kai Leng commanding the ground force," TIM stated.

Geoff nodded, tapping these commands into his datapad, a frown popping up on his face, "But...what for, if I may ask? What colony could you possibly want under our control, sir?"

Sighing, TIM spoke once more, glaring into the sun before him, "Noveria. I want Noveria. Specifically, I want Port Hanshan. If Cerberus controls that port, we might be able to cut off Alliance supply lines and Council supply lines, but it would also bolster ours. It is clear they are not taking the Reaper threat seriously enough, and need to be reminded of this fatal mistake. Earth burns while they fumble in the politics. But I also have another reason, conveniently enough, and that lies with those Ex-Cerberus scientists that deserted; the one including Gavin Archer, the scientist behind Project Overlord."

"Those scientists sir?" Geoff asked, flabbergasted, "I was under the impression they were on Gellix, not Noveria."

"They've obviously moved," he deadpanned in response, "They must have known I was on to them, and thought Noveria would be safer. We must show them the error of their ways. This is where Leng comes in; I want to go inside, find the scientists, and execute all of them, including Archer. They wish to betray me, they may do so, but they will not leave alive. Make sure Leng knows that; I'm sure he will be grateful for someone's throat to slit, the witless cutthroat that he is."

"Very well sir," Geoff replied, nodding his ascent, "Should the attack be instantaneous, or do you want-"

"Let the admiral of the Third Fleet decide how he attacks. Once on the ground, Leng calls the shots," TIM declared, "Anything else is out of my ability to care. I want results, and what better way to prove herself as an Admiral than to take Noveria in the name of Cerberus and humanity? Make it happen."

Geoff simply nodded, before looking up one more time for further orders. Seeing he would not be getting any, he quickly made his leave, and TIM simply continued to gaze out at Anadius. Omega was his. Eden Prime was his. He was taking control of Sanctum. Next he would take Noveria, and the real games would begin. If reports remained true, Shepard was currently on Menae, Palaven's moon, which means he would be too distracted to notice Cerberus' military build-up. Titan would be finished in a few months, and then Omega would be materially useless; useful only as a shipyard for his ships; Titan would be the ultimate HQ, and then, and only then, would TIM leave Cronos Station, and make Titan his new headquarters. Everything would fall into place.

He would find out what Eden Prime hid in terms of prothean technology, and it wouldn't be long before his excavations deep into the galactic core would retrieve all the remnants of the Collector technology destroyed by Shepard, and allow him to further advance Cerberus' weaponry to combat the Reaper forces.

Losing Eva was a major set back in his operations, and she had been one of a kind, and he had barely been able to use her. But she could be replaced; all it took was money. Lots of money and resources. He would not be deterred by that setback; and while he hadn't been able to obtain the blue prints to build the prothean superweapon, he knew that without a certain component, something only known as the Catalyst, it could not be fired properly and would be useless.

Now he just had to wait for Noveria to fall. And after that, he would set his eyes on the bigger prize. The most valuable prize of them all.

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_0622 hours._

_Council Offices, Citadel Embassies, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

As was the same every day in the Embassies, it was crowded full of people, but this was a different kind of crowded. This was a panicked crowded; people from many races dashing about trying to find out what the Council plans to do about the Reapers, what happened to their loved ones, and what was going on in the southern parts of the galaxy, where most of the Reapers were converging. By now, alot of turian refugees had found themselves living in the refugee camp alongside the humans and batarians, some of them turian soldiers ordered to evacuate or even the occassional deserter who was detained by C-Sec, and some of those turians were in the Embassies, trying to find out the status of their families.

And Marcus ignored all of it. If he let himself dwell on it too much, he might collapse. So many people needing help, and he was expected to not only help them, but the entire galaxy? It was a momentous task, and if he left himself cave in now, then there was no way he would be saving those trillions of people. It was a mathematical uncertainty.

_That's what it comes down to, eventually. Mathematics. Choose who lives, and who dies. Its a cruel business, war, but its necessity is born by the need to stop those who would wish it won on their side. Its like General Sherman said in the American Civil War: War is hell._

He was currently here on Spectre business. Apparently the Council had signed and authorized the papers needed to build a facility just for Spectres; a shooting range, a terminal and a vidscreen for keeping up to date with galaxy-wide news. And Marcus, given his reinstated spectre status, was given full access to it. Lucky him.  _Might as well check it out. It might have useful intel or gear I can use._ He personally didn't see the point of a spectre's office, especially when the money used to build it could have gone to feeding refugees or simply funding for the prothean superweapon they were building, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth; truth be told, it would be a useful headquarters, as the Reapers seemed to be totally ignoring the Citadel this time around.  _Considering Sovereign's attack three years ago, I think the Reapers are planning to wipe us out the old fashioned way; slow, methodical precision. System by system, they'll harvest us piece by piece. And this cycle will probably be alot quicker too, given the fact that the mass relays are still active, which means the Reapers will be able to travel alot faster using the network. We may have gained an advantage, but so have they._

He quickly made his way up the steps and moved to go down the main corridor known as the 'Hall of the Councilors,' as many called it. The spectre office was located on the top left of the corridor, while the commanding officer of the Embassies' garrison of C-Sec had his/her office just left of the stairs. The right was dominated by the Council; Tevos' office was the first one, followed by Valern, and then Sparatus, in order of the species who joined it. At the very end was Udina's office, representing humanity's recent posting to the Council. There was still some flak from the rest of the galaxy over that, especially from the volus, who had been wanting a seat for centuries, and were furious that humanity got one after just three decades of being part of galactic society. Marcus wouldn't gloat, but the circumstances made sense.  _Humanity sacrificed an entire fleet to save the Citadel and the Council from a geth fleet lead by a goddamn Reaper. What were the volus doing? Running, because they don't have a military. Point being made; humans saved the galaxy and the Council; I think that qualifies us for a seat._

Normally, whenever he came here, he'd be heading for Udina's office; the man usually wanted to speak with him, or tell him things, and his recent visit had lead to his mission on Menae. But this time he headed for the left side, closing in on the spectre office. The door looked brand new, with steely-grey surface, and a flashing red haptic interface; but there was something different about this interface; it had a rotating circle in the middle; the scanner. Knowing what it was, Marcus moved to raise his omni-tool to show it his spectre credentials, when the door suddenly shot open, and a salarian in black and red light armor stepped out, Hornet SMG strapped to his hip and eyes dashing to and fro from his position. Upon seeing Marcus however, he stopped, eying the human with interest. Then his lips creased in a manner that showed he was suspicious of him.

"Human," the salarian addressed, "Identify yourself. If I find you are working for her, I will have you arrested! I want to know where she is, damn it!"

Marcus, confused, raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "I don't understand, Mr...?"

"Do not play games with me. You know exactly who I am, don't you? Identify yourself IMMEDIATELY!" the salarian was launching himself forward in a flash, Hornet suddenly in his grip as he slammed Marcus against the door of Valern's office, Hornet in his face. Marcus' eyes widened in surprise at the sudden lunge, and he could see people all around them turning to look at them with concern. Marcus' combat reflexes almost immediately kicked in upon being tackled, and he took the salarian completely by shock; his hand grabbed the one holding the SMG and roughly tugged it away, allowing him to duck under the salarian's arm and pin it against his back, slamming him face first into the door.

Marcus moved in closely to his ear, voice a growl as he wasn't in the mood for this bullshit, "You first."

"Enough of the games! Give her up! I will have you reported to the authorities!" the salarian insisted, and weakly tried to break Marcus' grip. He sent a kick into the human's gut; given the circumstances, it normally would have winded him. But given he now had cybernetics riddled through his body, Marcus barely gave a grunt from the impact and merely growled in annoyance as he pushed the salarian harder against the door. The salarian tried numerous other techniques that normally would have broken his hold, but again, the cybernetics won the day.  _This guy clearly has military training; possibly SpecOps, given how quick he is. STG, maybe?_

"I've had one hell of a week," Marcus stated firmly, laying it out to the salarian as professionally as he could, "I've been forced to watch entire worlds burn to an enemy I loathe more than anything in this galaxy, and given what I just saw on Menae, I'm not going to tolerate bullshit like this. So you either identify yourself, or I will break every bone in your body, starting with your trigger-finger. Now I'm guessing by how fast you moved that your military, probably SpecOps, and that leads me to assume STG. Am I right?"

"Yes," the salarian gasped, seeming to finally give in, "Ex-STG, however. Been part of the Special Tactics and Reconissance branch of the Citadel for about three years now."

 _A Spectre. That explains how he was walking out of the Spectre office...and how he got in. But why did he attack me?_ "Identify yourself, and then I want to know why the hell you attacked me."

"Jondam Bau, Special Tactics and Recon," the salarian introduced, rather redundantly, given what he said previously, "And I attacked you because I believed you were following me. Watching me. Keeping an eye on my movements."

Marcus nodded, satisfied with the answer, and therefore let go of him, letting him stand up and turn to face him. Bau nodded his thanks, and holstered his SMG, making sure nothing in his wrist was broken before meeting Marcus' eyes, "You moved extremely fast for a human civilian. Which must mean you are not a civilian. Military? Yes, quite clearly. Special Forces? Yes, N7 maybe?" Seeing Marcus nodded, he gave a nod, "Why were you trying to access the spectre offices, then?"

Marcus gave a half-chuckle, finding some humor out of the awkward situation, "Because like you, I'm a member of the Special Tactics and Recon branch. I'm a Spectre."

"Wait, human? Spectre?" The salarian's eyes seemed to widen with realization, and he took a few seconds to contemplate who he had just tackled into a wall, "Wait, that must mean...you are Commander Marcus Shepard, are you not? I cannot believe I just attacked you. All members of the Spectres have heard about your accomplishments, and how you took out our rogue comrade, Saren Arterius. He was our best member, and for a human to take him out? Yes, you are very popular indeed."

"I'm flattered, believe me," Marcus replied, not enjoying the memories of his battle with Saren all those years ago, and entered full serious mode again, crossing his arms, "But I'm still confused as to what you meant by 'followed.' Why are you worried about someone following you? And so who is this person I'm supposed to 'give up?'"

The salarian, if he could blush, would have done so, completely embarassed by his miscalculation, "A misunderstanding. I believed you were an accomplice of a criminal I was hunting down; one I had tracked to the Citadel, and believed I was being followed so as to update her with my whereabouts."

"I see," Marcus stated, interested by the situation, "And just who is this illustrious criminal you are tracking down? She must be important, if finding her in the middle of a war of extermination is so damn important."

"Oh, it most certainly is. Could harm the war effort, actually," Bau explained, nodding and seeing his fellow spectre's continued confusion, decided to clarify, "She is a Master Thief. Her name is Kasumi Goto, she is of your species. I must admit, I am quite impressed by her skills, and had we not been on opposite ends of the justice system, I might have found an ally in her. Allas, it is not so. She holds crucial intel that could spark war between the Hegemony and the Alliance."

 _Really? You're worried about that? Both humanity and the batarians have their homeworlds under siege, and most of their territories are under attack. You really think they'll risk a war?_ But that wasn't what surprised him the most, it was who he was chasing.  _Kasumi, why must you constantly get in trouble? But is she really here? Damn, Garrus will be happy to hear that. He won't say it, but I know he misses her somewhat, even though they aren't an official couple or anything; just two people flirting with each other constantly. But seriously, what has that thief gotten up to to get a spectre after her? Especially something that could spark a war?_

"Just what does she have that could start this conflict you're worried about?" Marcus queried, genuinely curious.

"She has a greybox, one she 'reacquired' from the late Donovan Hock in his ex-Mansion on Bekenstein," Bau explained, "On this greybox, is information about an Alliance raid on a batarian research facility in Hegemony space. The Hegemony had acquired unidentified alien technology, and were running illegal AI experiments with it. The Alliance received a tip about the facility, and deployed a black ops squad of N7 special forces to investigate and acquire evidence. The raid turned into a massacre; the batarians seemed to see them coming and opened fire on them, almost erratically, reports state. But to cut to the point, as you humans say, the raid was covered up and the Alliance denied being there at all; they made it look like an accident. Of course, on that greybox that Miss Goto has, is evidence that proves otherwise."

Marcus remembered back to one year ago, to what Kasumi had told him about the greybox after they had acquired it from Hock's mansion.  _She said there was information on it that Keiji didn't want getting into the wrong hands...so that's what she meant! Keiji wanted to keep his greybox somehow came across the evidence, gridlocked it into his greybox, and then tried everything he could to keep it from falling into batarian hands or any one who really hated humans. It all makes sense now. But why didn't she tell me that?_

_Unless...she doesn't know. Maybe all she knows is that it was important, and that was it. Maybe Keiji kept it a secret from her all the way up to his death just so she wouldn't be in danger. It makes sense..._

"Another piece of interesting information however, is the alien tech itself. It wasn't of our Tier level. The galaxy at present is at a tech tier of 3. The technology they had come across was of a Tier level of 2; light years ahead of our technology, and far beyond anything we could hope to build. And anyone who stayed around it for too long became crazy, and complained of whispering in their minds, and would eventually attempt to kill everyone around them. I think we both see just what this technology was."

_Indoctrination. I don't know how, but the batarians had stumbled upon Reaper technology. That explains why they went crazy and attacked the N7 team; they were all indoctrinated. I'm glad the Alliance blew it up to fake an accident; if they had kept it...the Reapers would have been able to infiltrate the Alliance alot more deeply._

"Reaper tech," Marcus concluded, shaking his head, "Yes, this is very nasty stuff. Please inform me on what you find during your quest. But, Bau, please remember," he placed a hand on the salarian's shoulder, squeezing it, "There's a war going on out there. Any help you can give to aid the effort...hell, I'm building an armada right now. We're going to unite the entire galaxy; we're calling it the United Galactic Confederacy. Join us; we could use men like you aiding the war effort."

"I shall have to consider it. I will contact you through your omni-tool of my decision," Bau told him, sending Marcus his extranet address, "And I won't be alone. I will spread the news, Shepard; every Spectre shall know of what you are building, and together, the Special Tactics and Recon will do what the Council has failed to; we will fight back. You can consider the Spectres part of your...union of species. I will contact you of my success on that topic, as well."

Marcus smiled, nodding, "Thank you Bau. You're a credit to your uniform. Now go capture that thief," he grinned, although this one was for different reasons, and he quickly moved up to the spectre office door, waving his credentials infront of it and opening the door, stepping inside and listening to it shut behind him and lock, the corridor before him lighting up and numerous strobes of blue light dancing over his body as he was decontaminated; for what purpose, he did not know.

As the decon process finished, he grinned, crossing his arms as he looked around, pretending to be oblivious before speaking, seemingly to himself, "You can come out now."

A moment passed, and then another few seconds. Almost half a minute later, Marcus said, in his best threatening voice, "Kasumi, I swear to God. If you don't come out of here now, I will come over there and drag you out myself. Nothing here to fear; just me. Bau's gone."

"You're no fun!" came the usual chirpy voice of the Normandy's mischevious japanese thief, who's arrival could be heard by the crackle of her cloak deactivating, revealing herself to the world once more. He turned behind him to see her leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her breasts. She wore her trademark hood, something she seemed to never pull down, over her head, darkening her face and keeping her face illusive and mysterious, nothing but her eyes twinkling to give any indication that there was life under the hood, and it was that aspect that always reminded him of quarians. Her breasts were medium sized, and her body had the curvy lines of a petite young woman coming into late twenties. He saw the outline of her plump red lips, and the pink line that ran down the middle of her lower lip, along with her flat boots. She sighed, pouting as she remained leaning against the wall, shaking her head, "And I still don't know how you do that.  _Dozo?_ "

His translator picked out that pretty well, and he laughed, shaking his own head, "That secret will remain with me to my grave. But I might spill to Tali."

"Please don't. Scaring the hell out of her is so much fun, especially when I do it with a spider dangling from my hand. You should have been there to see it; she was hunting me all over the ship for days afterwards," she grinned, sighing as she stood up, "But seeing how you won't tell me, I'll be on my way. See you around Shep."

She moved to cloak and walk away, but he grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him, "Oh no you don't. I've been locked up for six months, and haven't been able to see a single friend of mine since then. So far I've met a few more, but meeting another one is an added bonus. You don't just get to sneak into the Spectre offices, say hi, and then disappear again. Especially not with that salarian spectre chasing after you."

"But its so much fun to lead him on wild goose chases! And the way he attacked you; thinking you were my accomplice! Shep, I want you to now go over to that chinese place on the Presidium, and I want you steal some noodles for me, okay? And none of that spicy stuff. Hurts my tongue too much."

"Kasumi, seriously," he stated, the grin dropping from his face, "Talk to me. You may think I'm an old groutch who blows up things and finds it fun, but you are someone I call a friend, and you are my wife's best friend, so that puts you up a notch. Not to mention my brother's...ah...paramour...?"

Kasumi seemed to take that seriously, and immediately tore her arm from his grip, glaring at him and poking out her tongue, "Garrus is not my 'paramour,' you silly idiot. We flirt, we kiss as a joke, and that's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing will become of it..."

"I said the same of my attraction to Tali once upon time," Marcus grinned, teasing her and finally having the upperhand, "Look how that changed..."

"Oh..." Kasumi tried to think of an adequate insult but, being unable to conjure one, simply growled and gave up, "Fine! You win this time, Shep, but be sure I'll get you back. And you won't see me coming when you do."

"I'm sure," he replied dryly, chuckling as he shook his head, "So apart from getting a salarian on your tail, just what have you been up to?"

"Doing what you wanted us to do. Prepare the galaxy, for all the good it did," she sighed, moving past him as he followed her into the main office, "Mostly did some research into Reaper tech, and stole it from unaware, wealthy cosmopolitans and metrosexuals. The usual affair, but with alot more drama."

"Metrosexuals?" he questioned, coming to a stop, "Really?"

"I'm eccentric, Shep. Thought you knew that by now. Its what gives me my...style," she waved her arms in the air to exaggerate her point, giggling slightly afterwards as she looked in wonder at the room around her, "Very fancy, Shep. I could make a fortune stealing stuff from this place."

"Look, but don't touch, Miss Goto," Marcus warned, his voice full of mock threats, "I am a Spectre you know."

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper," she pouted, poking her tongue out of him as seemed to be a habit with her when she didn't get her away and leapt up onto a nearby crate, crossing her legs as she sat ontop of it in a humble Japanese fashion, a grin on her face as she looked at him, " _Kuso kurae!_ "

He frowned at her as he came to stop before the main terminal, "My translator isn't picking up that one."

"For good reason," she commented, smiling, "It is not a word my mother would tolerate coming from my mouth. She would have slapped me."

"A swear word?"

"Typically."

"What does it mean?"

"Not telling."

"Come on, Kasumi..."

"Nope. Nada. Not going to happen. A thief has secrets!"

"You're impossible."

"Look who's talking!"

He waved his hands in the air, fed up with her behaviour before surrendering and turning back to the console, bringing up its contents on the screen before him; nothing really of note, just a repeat of what he already knew; Khar'Shan and Earth fallen, Palaven under siege, Sur'Kesh and Tuchanka threatened, Sur'Kesh more so due to its species possessing a more threatening military force. Nothing he didn't already know. God, he wished it would give him useful information.  _Like how to secure a krogan-turian alliance without Wrex crushing Victus' wind pipe..._

"What ya lookin at, Shep?"

He almost jumped from the voice suddenly speaking over his shoulder, and he turned to her, shaking his head as he turned back to the screen, ignoring the smug look on her face, "Just news reports. Nothing I didn't already know. Hasn't yielded anything actually interesting or particularly...offsetting."

"The news is useless," Kasumi pointed out, jumping up and sitting on the railing next to him, pulling out an apple from her pocket and taking a bite from it, talking as she chewed,  _loudly_ , "I, for one, don't trust it at all. That's why I go find out things for myself. Speaking of such things..." she opened her omni-tool and searched through numerous items before selecting one, Marcus' terminal suddenly beeping with new data, "...I just sent one such event that should please you greatly. From yours truly, the bad people in white and gold."

He turned to the terminal, and found a data packet labelled, quite comically, 'Bad People doing Bad Things.'

"How eloquently put," Marcus dryly commented, and all he was an apple hit the side of his temple, causing him to rub the sore spot after yelling 'ow!'

"I didn't have time to worry about naming it something appropriate, so I came up with that!" she justified, "Besides...I think its appropriate."

Shaking his head in mirth, he quickly lost his grin as he opened the data packet and began to read through it. And the more he read, the more serious he became. When he was done, he deactivated the terminal and simply stood there, not knowing what to think of the information he had just been given. Finally, Kasumi spoke up, gulping down her apple chunk and speaking with a voice of curiosity.

"So...am I good, or am I the best thief in the galaxy? I personally believe the latter, but if you want to put it up for debate later, I'm more than open to talk."

"Kasumi, how did you get your hands on this? This isn't well known," Marcus asked, turning to face her with a fierceness in his eyes that even took the petite thief by surprise, but she quickly regained her chirpy composure and smiled.

"I might have stumbled upon a bad person who was an idiot and left his draw open so I may have stolen his datapad full of evil plans, and brought it to you?" she stated, shrugging, "I was actually considering giving it to Bau as a token present for being so persistent in his search for me, but seeing you here, I thought it better to give to you. Noone hates Cerberus more than the crew of the good old Normandy clan."

"Bau?" he asked, eyes widening in shock, trying to comprehend  _that_ certain confuffle.

"Yeah, I really like him. He's a good man, and he's very much like me. He's smart, quick on his feet, and he seems to know what I'm doing before I do. He's...amazing. We'd have made excellent partners in crime!" she gossiped, grinning like an idiot.

"But he's the spectre currently chasing you," he deadpanned, "As in the one trying to put you  _behind bars._ Bring you to justice."

"Well..." she began, before just exhaling, shrugging nonchatantly in the way that she did with matters she gave no thought to, "...nobody's perfect."

He sighed again, something he found himself doing alot around Kasumi, and braced against the terminal, rubbing his eyes, "This type of information could get you killed, Kasumi, especially if it got out that you had it. The Illusive Man is on bad terms with us as enough as it is; he doesn't need you feeding intel reports of his operations to his one archenemy."

"I'm sorry, but do you remember why you recruited me to begin with, Shep?" Kasumi quiered, giving him the 'looking down at the glasses' look as she smirked, "I'd make a joke about stealth being my middle name, but that's too mainstream...and not strictly true. So I'm just going to say...I have a cloak! I'm a Master Thief! Cerberus, catch me if you can! Besides, this was just too much to let pass up, and even you can't argue with the results."

"No, I suppose I can't," he turned back to look at the data, inhaling and exhaling, "So Cerberus has invaded Eden Prime, have they? I know Cerberus has taken Omega, but why does Cerberus need Eden Prime? Omega has tactical value, but the Utopia System is bordering on Reaper-controlled territory. What use is it?"

"Prothean tech. And lots of it," Kasumi replied, "Apparently ExoGeni, at a little colony called New Hope, were excavating a massive signature they had found; it was a prothean  _treasure trove,_ Shep! And its said to be a mile longer and deeper than the Archives."

"Holy shit, really? And Cerberus might get their hands on it? Fuck that," Marcus growled, knowing now this was important, "Once we're stocked up, I'm heading straight for Eden Prime. I can't just let Cerberus have access to a prothean archive, and especially not unchecked. They need to be stopped."

"Better to be careful Shep," the thief warned, "Cerberus has a whole fleet protecting their new prize, and alot of troops. I mean, you'd need more than just the Normandy and its squad to retake the entire planet."

Marcus was at a loss, until he remembered just what resources he had at his disposal. But first, he had to secure that prothean site before Cerberus got their hands on it, "Kasumi, I just happen to have more. Thank you for this info, it was a great help." He moved to leave.

"Anytime, Shep."

Her voice made him stop, and he slowly turned around, his eyes meeting hers. She simply shrugged, giving him a look of 'what? Is it something I said?' behind her hood. He shook his head, turning his body fully towards her, smiling, "Kasumi, I think I forgot to ask this, and I'm going to anyway, even if you don't like it. Miss Goto, I'm going to ask you to rejoin the Normandy crew."

She rolled her eyes very noticably, clearly not sold on that idea, "No way Shep. You already dragged me into a suicide mission, you're not dragging me into a war."

"I could use your help Kasumi. Besides, you're a good friend," Marcus pleaded not so bluntly, "It would be fantastic to have you back on the crew."

"I'm a thief, not a soldier!" she threw back, as more emotion creeped into her voice, "I steal  _objects,_ not  _lives_. How do you expect me to be of any use when the best I can do is play wack-a-mole with husks?"

"Don't play that game. I've seen you with an SMG and a pistol. Combined with that cloak of yours, the enemy rarely see you coming, and you're a pretty good shot with that Locust SMG that killed two presidents," he gave her a knowing wink, "You'd be an asset. You'd not only be useful as stealth recon, but as stealth infiltration. You'd put most N7 infiltrators to shame."

"Well, I do know how to make the best of them blush, I guess," she seemed to ponder, before shaking her head, "I can't believe you're making me think about this! My answer is no! I don't want to be involved in a galactic war! I'm not a soldier! I don't kill people for a living! I'm not that kind of person! And I won't let you turn me into that kind of person!"

That hurt Marcus deep inside, but Kasumi wouldn't know that; he never showed it. It hurt because it was true; he had turned good people into soldiers. Warriors.  _Tali. Liara. Garrus. Lia. Wre-oh, wait. Wrex was already a blood-thirsty bastard. My own_ _ **wife**_ _, the person I fell in love with because she was selfless and cute, and I turned her into a goddamn warrior._ He remembered with crystal clarity what had happened last year when Cerberus and the Shadow Broker (the one before Liara) raided the Rayya, and what she had done to the captain of the Cerberus vessel...how she had slowly cut off his genitals, before slitting his throat... _My god...the_ _ **look**_ _in her eyes...the innocence I came to love was just gone. And then she apologized afterwards, and that was all my fault. I made her into that. I transformed her into a killer. Can I really blame Kasumi for not wanting to be like that? Can I really convince her to not turn away?_

But then it hit him. This is war. The entire galaxy was facing extinction; there was no such thing as a civilian anymore; everyone was a soldier, whether they liked it or not. They had to fight to survive the apocalypse, and if they didn't, they'd be swept aside and harvested. Kasumi  **was** a soldier; maybe not a professional, but she was.

"You don't have to be a cold-blooded killer to be a soldier, Kasumi," he explained to her, "You just have to do what's right. Look at the First American Civil War. They didn't fight the war because they loved killing or because they were exceptionally good at it, they killed because their state's sovereignty was being threatened, and were fighting for their family and their freedom and rights to be independent. They fought because it was right, and they fought to survive. That is what we must all do now; fight and survive. We fight or we die. Kasumi, you either jump in the wagon or be left behind, and I don't want to see you left behind. We are all soldiers now, even the doctors and the politicians and the ordinary farmer. Even thieves."

"I..." Kasumi, unable to argue with that logic, merely sighed in defeat, shaking her head, "I just don't know, Shep. I don't know if I'm ready for that. Fighting in one mission to save the galaxy was one thing...to fight many battles across the galaxy to save it from an enemy that shows no weakness, fear or mercy? How could I possibly add up? You're an N7, and your squad is full of trained soldiers. I'm just a thief who tagged along for the ride and just happened to be good with an SMG. I don't know if I can handle that."

He thought about it for a second, before smiling grimly, meeting her eyes, "And what if I told you something, Kasumi?"

"What?"

"What if I told you Garrus was on the Normandy. Right now," he asked, frowning down at her, "Would you join then?"

"I'd tell you you're lying just to lure me onto the ship," she sternly replied, but seeing the look in his face, exhaled, "But you're not that kind of person. So Garrus is back on the Normandy, huh?"

"Yep, and he won't say it, but I believe he's missed you," he grinned, "The teasing, the jokes, the flirting...I think he's missed all of it. To be honest, I think he has a thing for you. He'll want to keep you around."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, "Really? He really misses me? Well that's a first. Although I'm sure he'd be useless without me to give him all his comedic comebacks and insults. He did learn from the best," she seemed to ponder this, before sighing, meeting his eyes, "I'll think about it, Shep. I'll...really think about it. But for now, I'm going to have to respectfully decline. I'm sorry. But I will think about it."

"I won't force you Kasumi. Just letting you know that the option is open. Goodbye," and he turned and left, hoping to meet her again someday.

Kasumi's response was a bare whisper, "See ya, Shep." And seeing him leave, knowing the Normandy would also leave soon, her decision was made.

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_0700 hours._

_Gunnery Station, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

In the quiet humming of the gunnery control station of the stealth frigate stood the lone form of a turian expert marksman by the name of Garrus Vakarian, doing his infamous 'calibrations' on the thanix cannon; a turian equivalent of the technology used to build a Reaper's thanix cannon, and just as powerful. He hummed a turian tune silently to himself, clicking his mandibles along to the beat as he typed into the terminal before him, checking to make sure all the specs were up to date and not disorderly.

He was so enthralled in his work, that he didn't notice the door open and close, seemingly by itself as noone entered.

He didn't hear the silent footsteps sneaking up behind him, or the barely noticable wift of breath on his ear. He didn't notice any of it until it was too late, "SO, Garrus! How's it going!"

He nearly jumped forward in fright, completely taken aback by the sudden voice of a certain thief bursting his ear drum. He spun around to face the laughing thief, who was simply looking at him with a ridiculous grin, arms clasped behind her back and looking absolutely above herself with mirth.

"Ka...Kasumi? By the spirits, what the hell?" Garrus exclaimed, "How...how the hell did you get in here? Since when were you on the crew?"

"As of now," she continued to smirk smugly, Garrus quickly recomposing himself and regaining some dignity as he stood back up, looking down at the petite japanese woman, "And what kind of a greeting is that? I'm back! Ready to make your life a living hell once more, and to give you inside tips on how to make Shep blush redder than an apple, and apples are delicious."

"I could say the same thing to you, Kasumi," he retorted.

"What, making me blush, or the greeting?" she shot back, smirking at his sudden embarassment, "Oh Garrus, you want to make me blush? And how, oh how, would you make that happen?"

"I...uh...well...um...Spirits damn you," he replied.

"Oh come now, don't be like that."

"You haven't given me a reason  _not_ to be."

"But we're best pals!" Kasumi replied, leaning on one hip as she crossed her arms, "And we're going to have so much fun! Like me constantly ruining your calibrations!"

"You're lucky I never found my assault rifle in time during those days. Noone messes with my calibrations," Garrus warned.

"Oh no, the dino doesn't want me messing up his calibrations," Kasumi teased, "What ever shall I do. Come now, don't be so unimaginative. Death threats should be a person's last resort in terms of comebacks."

"And what would you suggest instead?"

"Petnames."

He didn't like where this was going, "Like...?" He realized too late what she meant.

"Oh...I don't know, like...Garbear?" She grinned, "Ah yes, Garbear. That's perfect."

He groaned, and all he could hear, like the laughter of an evil mastermind, was Kasumi's giggling.

"I hate you. Spirits, I really do."

**"Kasumi rejoined the crew. Can't have been all that bad. And it gave her and Garrus more time to...establish...their relationship."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"They really were confused over whether they actually liked each other or not. How absurd is that? Even we figured it out quicker."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Cut to the chase. You mentioned Cerberus controlling Eden Prime. What occurred during that period?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"We retook Eden Prime, and found a prothean relic buried for fifty thousand years. You see, we were expecting a beacon, or a library like on Mars, or, hell, even just a buried building, but we never expected what we found. It would change our understanding of the Reapers and of the protheans forever."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Sorry this took so long; I had some serious writer's block in the making of this chapter; but its all good now! Turns out reading some fanfiction with Tali as the romance is good inspiration to keep writing; especially when those fanfics are dead.** _

_**You may have noticed that some sections were inspired (or borrowed heavily) from Kasumi and Garrus' interactions in Razor's Edge, a fanfic I strongly recommend you check out, it is brilliant. For example, the idea of Shepard finding out about Eden Prime from Kasumi was Tairis' (I think that's how its spelt) idea and came directly from Razor's Edge: Requiem, along with the argument of Shepard trying to get Kasumi to join. Yet again, so was much of the Shadow Broker scenes from III: Requiem, but hey, how could I not? Not only do they seem like things the characters would do, but its realistic and logical, and that's what I'm aiming for. Another thing borrowed is the nickname 'Garbear.' I don't particularly know if Tairis came up with that or not, but either way, I do plan on using it alot; its funny!** _

_**There will be many other things inspired by other fanfics, but largely from Razor's Edge.** _

_**Next up, From Ashes DLC. That chapter's going to be split up into two parts, and you'll soon find out why. Essentially, this is how it'll go:** _

_**Part 1: From Ashes DLC.** _

_**Part 2: Liberation of Eden Prime.** _

_**Its going to be pretty cool, if it all works out well. So, I hope you look forward to it!** _

_**And please review!** _


	11. From Ashes, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy arrives over Eden Prime to investigate a dig site Cerberus has secured. What is uncovered is beyond a simple prothean artifact.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TEN:**

**FROM ASHES PART ONE**

_June 5, 2186_

_1549 hours._

_Cabin, UT-47A Kodiak Combat Shuttle, Descending upon Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

Marcus quickly checked his weapons, to make sure they were loaded and working. His mattock seemed to be in perfect working order, and while he did enjoy the punch the heavy rifle packed, it simply didn't compare to the geth pulse rifle he once had; he missed that rifle almost as much as he missed Tali. Checking that his modded scope was in place, he holstered his rifle and then picked out his recently purchased claymore shotgun, courtesy of Aria. He smiled at the size of the weapon, and how he was the only person outside of the krogan species that could lift and fire the weapon without dislocating their shoulder; and it was worth it, as the heavy shotgun could reduce entire bodies into pulps of red ichor with just a single shell. Being krogan made, this was not surprising.

Watching his human brother switching through his many different weapons caused Garrus to stir, mandibles creasing in amusement, "You just couldn't help yourself, could you Marcus?"

The human gave the turian a quick glance, a grin splitting his lips, "Damn right. I'd have bought Tali one, if she could have lifted it."

"Nothing beats a claymore heavy shotgun as an anniversary gift for your wife. Although I'd imagine she'd get no end of joy out of making a certain turian wet himself in fear simply by mentioning it," Garrus seemed to cringe at the memories of Tali threatening to bring out her shotgun every time he tried to tease her.

Kasumi was in on the action pretty quickly, the young thief finding quite alot of mirth from the situation, "Luckily for you, Tali wouldn't be able to fire that without breaking a few bones in her arm, so you're safe; for now. Although I'm sure she doesn't need the claymore to scare you; her shotgun was clearly enough."

"She has her shotgun, but I can buy a pet spider," Garrus grinned, "Let us see who wins that battle."

"Well, Garrus will be dead, and the spider will be nonexistent mush after Tali's done trampling it," Marcus added.

"Too true. So...forget the pet spider, then," the turian sighed, shaking his head, "I just can't win. But...I do have more kills than her! Why? Because I have a sniper rifle! That's why."

"If you're going to have a fight about which is better, than you better gather your allies. Tali has her krogan uncle, along with her krogan baby brother," Kasumi added, laughing.

"I have Thane...maybe Zaeed, if enough money's involved," Garrus countered.

"Krogan, Garrus.  _Krogan_ ," Marcus repeated, waiting for it to sink in, but the turian didn't seem to get the point. It was at this point, James came to the rescue.

"Don't be such a  _bravuconeria,_ Scars. I've fought with a krogan, and those tough sons of bitches, especially if there is two of them, will soak up all your bullets before you're able to kill 'em."

"Not if I aim for the crest," Garrus pointed out, "But I would never do that to Wrex or Grunt. It'd be unfair."

"Tell that to Wrex's biotics," Marcus mumbled, enjoying this immensely.

"I'm rooting for Team Krogan here," Cortez called out from the cockpit.

"Oh come on, does anyone appreciate the sniper rifle here?" he turned to look at Keeling, practically pleading with his best impression of puppy-dog eyes, although he failed, and ended up looking more intimidating then cute.

Keeling shrugged her shoulders, seeming to not care, "I'm a CQC specialist, although I don't use shotguns, I use assault rifles. Sniper rifles are useful for long range, shotguns for short. But any CQB specialist worth their position can sneak up behind a sniper's nest and take them out, and any sharpshooter intelligent enough to realize his or her position will be flanked, will relocate. In the end, neither wins, but both do. It just depends on the situation."

"Lieutenant Keeling's analysis is correct," EDI surmized, everyone turning to look at the synthetic. James and Keeling had been initially edgy at seeing Ex-Eva's body moving around, but when they found out it was EDI, they calmed down, with James even commenting that she now 'sexy hot robot home' in Eva's body. Joker's response had been one of absolute shock and thrill, commenting that he was 'no longer sitting next to a naggy pawn AI that doesn't get jokes yet, but next to a naggy pawn AI that doesn't get jokes yet...in a sexy robot body!' So no worries on Joker's part. Kasumi was weirded out, but seemed to get used to it. Overall, EDI's corporeal status was accepted well among the crew, "Which makes this entire debate irrelevant. In any event, only the circumstances or environment will prove or disprove either side's assertion."

There was a dull silence for a while, until James decided to speak again, "Okay then. But who cares! Team Krogan WINS, putas. Even the pilot agrees," then he spoke deliberately louder, making sure the pilot could hear him, even if he wasn't talking to him directly, "Even if he doesn't know shit about combat, sitting in that little pilot seat of his!"

"At least I didn't trash it!" Cortez retorted, and James merely laughed.

"I am confused. I initially believed this was a logical, serious debate. But the increase in humurous fractures in the facial structure of everyone around us, and the humorous vocal noises, imply some comedic tone I have not recognized," EDI observed.

Garrus held back a chuckle, leaning in and whispering into Marcus' ear, "'Humurous fractures in the facial structure?' Either EDI doesn't get the humor, or she just insinuated I have a fractured face." Although they didn't hear Garrus' jokes, almost everyone laughed at EDI's misunderstanding; even Keeling seemed to crack a little smirk.

"I will have to file this under 'things to understand about organics,'" EDI stated, and the shuttle returned to its previous state.

The mission had been quite a different turn of game; instead of fighting a Reaper occupation, they were fighting a Cerberus occupation. As soon as the Normandy had arrived in system, their stealth had rendered them invisible to the large Cerberus fleet in the system. Deploying in their equally stealth capable shuttle, they had deployed to the surface, honing in on Colony New Hope, where a Cerberus Destroyer seemed to be hovering, one which EDI had quickly identified as the CAW Tennessee. The ship was holding a stationary orbit over the colony, acting as a quick response vessel; they'd have to hope Cerberus didn't get that desperate for air support.

And so the shuttle quickly descended, Cortez getting them as close as possible without being spotted by Cerberus troops. They landed at the edge of a cliff face, where the hatch shot open and the squad proceeded to deploy, Marcus staying behind to give Cortez his final orders, "I'll call for extraction as soon as we've secured and identified this prothean artifact."

"Copy that captain," Cortez replied, nodding as he kept his eyes focused on the controls before him, "I'll do a couple of sorties around the colony until you call for pickup. I'll remain above the clouds, so they don't spot me."

"Good man," he gripped the man's shoulder one more time before turning and leaping out of the shuttle, unholstering his rifle before he came to impact the ground. The kodiak gave a final roar of its engines, before it then ascended and shot off into the atmosphere, moving to hide above the bright white clouds. As he turned, he surveyed the planet's surroundings, remembering his first time here when geth had invaded. He had visited this planet three times during his travels now, and three different colonies.

_I visited Colony Euphoria three years ago when I was on the Normandy SR-1, and that was to fight off a geth invasion; this was effectively where my entire journey began. Then a year ago, I was lured to Colony Ohio as part of a Collector plan to abduct my crew. And now I'm here once more to secure a prothean artefact, and to liberate the planet from a Cerberus occupation. First geth, now Cerberus. This planet doesn't get a break, does it?_

He turned away from Eden Prime's beautiful landscape and scenic views, and turned back to his squad, who were waiting in formation for him. Keeling had taken point, body pressed against one of the buildings and her Valkyrie heavy rifle out, scanning the area ahead. James was crouched behind her, helmet on and Revenant hefted on one arm. Garrus was lazily hanging back, waiting for Marcus with Liara, who's omni-tool was open and scanning the area, Kasumi, and EDI.

As Marcus approached, Liara turned towards him, deactivating her omni-tool as she did, "Eden Prime. This is where it all began, wasn't it?"

"It certainly was. Its where I first encountered Sovereign, the geth and heard of Saren," he sighed, breathing in Eden Prime's fresh air, "The nostalgia would be complete if Kaidan were here. He was here with me, along with Jenkins and a turian spectre named Nihlus Kryik..." he shook his head, sighing at the memories, "Both of them are dead now; both died on this very planet on that very day, one betrayed by Saren and one gunned down because I gave him a command without correct knowledge of the enemy. But...this is also where I...well..."

"Met Ashley," Garrus finished, "We know, Marcus."

"Yeah," he replied back, the memories not so enlightening anymore.  _What would Ashley be thinking right now if she were alive? 'Let's kick some Cerberus ass, skipper.' Yeah, that sounds like her. Then she'd recite some of her father's poetry._ He had lost two men that fateful day three years ago but in reality, he had lost three the moment he recruited Ashley: gone in a blaze of nuclear fire.  _It was either her or Kaidan; but what would have happened if I had saved her instead?_

"Yeah...those were the times. Saren and his geth launching their campaign to bring back the Reapers," Marcys recollected, and then his mind settled on a very particular, unsettling memory, "And where I encountered the prothean beacon, and got my vision that warned us of the Reapers. And now it seems that Eden Prime's colonists are under attack...again."

"I remember hearing the reports about the geth attack," Garrus recounted, shaking his head and clenching his mandibles in anger, "I was busting my ass to find evidence against Saren, but in the end it just proved worthless. I'm glad you turned up; otherwise we'd all be dead by now, or close enough. There I was, strapped in by bueracracy while Saren was out blasting that same bueracracy apart with an army of cold, emotionless killer machines."

"You always did prefer a straight up fight," Marcus quipped.

"And you're always so good at helping me find them," Garrus retorted.

Liara, deciding the banter had enough time to thrive, stepped in, rubbing her temples, "Cerberus has hit this place hard," she motioned to the smoke and fire in the background, and the destroyer that loomed over them, grimly reminding them of the Cerberus fleet in orbit, "Whatever they found here was worth a major offensive; meaning this prothean artefact must be more than a simple artefact. There are survivors of the colony all over the planet, and some of them actually seem to be putting up resistance, but...they killed everyone near the dig site. None of the members of the ExoGeni team survived."

Marcus raised both his eyebrows at her, impressed by her knowledge, "You knew all of that just by a scan of the area?"

"Scanning? No, I was contacting my agents in the resistance," she snorted, smirking up at him, "I'm a very good Shadow Broker."

"I'm glad you're on our side," Garrus noted, and all three of them shared a laugh. After a bit, they got back into full business mode, Marcus pushing past them and moving towards where Keeling and James were stationed, speaking as he did, "But as it is, we're about to engage a Cerberus occupation in full-scale combat over an artefact of a nature we don't understand or can discern. Did any of your contacts have a clue of what this thing is?"

"None. ExoGeni were in the middle of digging when Cerberus invaded," she informed him, "But from what my contacts can discern, they observed that Cerberus seemed to immediately continue digging after the surrounding area was secured, meaning they really wanted whatever was done there dug up in a hurry; I don't think they plan on staying. If anything, their fleet in orbit is merely to make sure any attempts by the Alliance to liberate the colony are halted before they can stop them digging it up."

"Not that the Alliance can afford the ships to do so," Marcus contemplated, "Very well. Liara, give us the navpoint to the dig site, and we'll head over there; kill any Cerberus soldiers that get in our way. We can't afford to be making this silent, and we need to secure this site quickly and efficiently," he arrived at the forward position, dropping low next to Keeling and speaking in a whisper, "Lieutenant, what have we got?"

"Area ahead looks clear of hostiles. But my HUD is picking up twelve plus hostiles at the edge of my motion tracker though; seem to be moving in a standard patrol pattern. I haven't seen any aircraft of any description, so our eyes will probably need to be kept on the skies to make sure they don't get the jump. The Destroyer won't fire us and it can't launch an airstrike; it would risk damage to the dig site and of any collateral damage, although knowing Cerberus, the former is more probable. The buildings are packed tightly enough that we'll get plenty of cover, and the dig site, according to T'Soni's recent navpoint, indicates a distance of 400 meters to the dig site. We might encounter a bit of resistance, but nothing we can't neutralize. Just waiting for your go, Captain."

"We'll split up and hit from both sides," Marcus declared, "Keeling, you take James and Liara and hit from the left. I'll take Kasumi, Garrus and EDI and hit from the front; we'll divert all their forces into a chokepoint, and you can hit the rear and crush them."

"Solid copy captain," Keeling replied, turning back to look ahead. She raised a closed fist and thumped it against her chest, before unclenching it and shooting it forwards, motioning for them to push forward. And within that instant, Keeling was gone, moving at a fast pace, legs bent and weapon raised as she moved, James taking up position behind her, and Liara, after nodding at the three left behind, pulled out her SMG and quickly followed suit.

Seeing that they were gone, Marcus turned back to his team, nodding to the three of them, "Okay squad, let's move it out. Garrus, you're our sniper; find a position and keep to it. If it gets too hot, just relocate. But I want you to be our eyes, you got me?"

"Read you clear Marcus," Garrus nodded, pulling out his Reaper sniper rifle and quickly moving over to a nearby ladder. Just as the turian began to climb onto the top of the bunker, he turned back to Kasumi and EDI, "You two are with me. Garrus will provide sniper support, we'll draw them out. Kasumi, you're stealth recon, you move on ahead. EDI, I don't quite know your abilities, so give me the summary."

EDI nodded, although the gesture was awkward and clasped her hands behind her back, "I possess some basic technological abilities; you could classify me as a 'combat engineer,' much like Tali. I have recently downloaded an incineration ability, much like Professor Solus', and an overload ability, much like Tali's. However, this synthetic platform possesses unique combat capabilities not present in other platforms, not even geth."

His interests peaked he nodded, "Continue."

"I possess a program labelled 'Defense Matrix,'" she explained, and then her eyes went blank for a second, staring into nothing. But it only lasted for a microsecond, and then a loud grinding of gears and the sound of metal slamming against metal was heard, and they all watched as numerous bits of armoured plating, previously detached, spun into place, encasing the synthetic in grey, steel armour. At that moment, EDI looked at them again, "As you can see, it reinforces my forward armour plating by 60 percent. I can even take a different hit from a missile and only lose 30 percent of my integrity. It also gives an added boost to my kinetic barriers, however minute."

"I wish I had something like that," Kasumi commented, hands on her hips as she admired EDI's makeshift armour, "Yet again, I'm a thief."

He ignored that snarky comment and moved to ask her what other abilities she had when she seemed to read his mind, and spoke once more, "I have one final ability unique to his unit. Decoy, it is called. It allows me to deploy a holographic representation of myself to fool the enemy." As an example, she turned away from them and one crackle of energy later, what appeared to be a clone of EDI erupted from her body, mindlessly sprinting forward. Eventually it ran into a wall, and simply stood there. After a moment, it crackled, and then winked out of existence. She turned back to them, and Marcus was practically grinning.

"I'm starting to like your new platform EDI. I can't remember Legion being able to do that," he shook his head, "But I should have sent you with Keeling. Kasumi already fits in as a combat engineer, and Keeling's team doesn't have one at all. Damn it. I just hope you know what you're doing EDI; I don't want Cerberus hacking that mech."

"My firewalls are at maximum. It would take your wife three years to crack through the encryption, and the entire geth consensus, all united, two minutes."

"You had me at 'my wife can't do it,'" he chuckled, "If even Tali can't crack it, I have nothing to worry about. Come on, Garrus is probably wondering what's-"

"-keeping you?" the turian finished for them, "I most certainly am; Keeling's in position and waiting for your orders. Says she has the back of the 'Cerberus bastards' in sight and she's ready to kick some pro-human, xenophobic ass. Her words, not mine, although I do find them quite enlightening. It shows alot about her personality. I think Ashley and herself would have gotten along nicely."

"Indeed," he grinned, motioning to the narrow alleyway behind a few bunkers nearby, "Come on, we'd better get moving. Cerberus isn't going to wait all day, and we've got a dig site to investigate."

The first human spectre took point, his AI and master thief compatriot taking up position behind him as they moved forward, clearing the empty alleyways of the colony. They continued on ahead, but before they reached the Cerberus position, the smell of...death, reached their nostrils. As he sniffed, he knew he wouldn't like it just from smelling it, and when he turned the corner, he could feel Kasumi behind him spinning back around and making disgusted grunting sounds. Even he narrowed his eyes at the sight.

A pile of human bodies lay just infront of them; dozens of them, all of them long dead, either torn apart pieces or riddled with bullets. An odd looking animal, something Jenkins had said were called a 'gas bag,' currently hung around it, seemingly interestes in the smell of rotting flesh. It was horrible; some of them wore civilian garb, and some wore the stand-outish grey uniform of ExoGeni employees.  _All of them murdered...and then Cerberus just dumped their bodies here and left them to rot._

He saw a human male's head poking out, and as he got closer, he felt that he recognized it. And when he kneeled down and turned the man's head over, lifeless eyes meeting his, his eyes widened, and he quickly dropped the head and backed away, even more repulsed then he already was.  _Powell. That was his name. I met him three years ago; when I was at Colony Euphoria. Bloody lazy shithead had been taking a nap on the job when the attack hit, and was responsible for stealing munitions from the Alliance 212 garrison. And he just happened to be here...and this time his luck didn't hold out it seems..._

He turned away, and saw that Kasumi was refusing to turn around, while EDI seemed to survey the pile with a look of calm, unable to comprehend the emotion of 'disgust.' She turned towards him, features calm as she spoke, "Cerberus was responsible for this. I have found numerous foot prints and handprints that correspond with that of recent Cerberus body armor configurations."

"As if we needed those to find out who did it," Marcus dryly noted, "There's only one faction capable of such barbary. Of such disrespect."

"I see it," Garrus crackled over the comms, "And Cerberus will pay for every drop spilt. The Illusive Man has alot to answer for here. Not as much as the Reapers do, but alot. The man who claims to 'stand for human ascendance' sure has no qualms about killing innocent  _human_ civilians, hypocritical bastard."

"Only further proof that he's indoctrinated. A Reaper puppet. And Cerberus along with him," he sighed, turning to march away, "Come on, we've got a mission to do. At least we'll get to kill some of the assholes who did this. Maybe link up with some resistance members, if there's any left in this colony."

They moved on, and quickly turned left, coming across the men Keeling had been talking about. There was an open courtyard, littered with numerous crates stamped with the Alliance or ExoGeni logos, while a bunker overlooked the entire area, a staircase leading up to it, extending diagonally from the right. And in the courtyard and staircase, was a squad of Cerberus. At least eight assault troopers stood in the courtyard, avenger and vindicator rifles in hand and moving back and forth with methodical precision, their patrol patterns meticulous and repetitive. The squad's centurion stood in his bulky armor at the top of the staircase, mattock heavy rifle held tightly in his grip and standing perfect vigil over the yard. He also saw a single combat engineer, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and looking over data on an omni-tool, turret strapped to his back. The other two he didn't recognize, but seemed to have a helmet enveloped in a large orange visor, and held no visible weapons.  _I didn't encounter that on Mars...possibly a unit we haven't engaged before..._

He commed his radio to both teams, "All combat teams, we have eight assault troopers, one centurion, one combat engineer present in the courtyard. We have two plus hostiles of unknown classification; unarmed, but looking mean, over. Could be a possible commanding units, over. Proceed with discretion; Vakarian, keep an eye on them. Keeling, please confirm you see the bogies."

A moment, followed by a response, "We read you, five-by-five. Hostiles identified and tagged. Vega will deal with them; T'Soni and I are ready to proceed; we've picked our targets and are ready to fire."

"Vakarian here," Garrus declared, "Keeping those two bogies in my peripheral and have my scope set on the centurion. Ready to engage on your command."

"I know what I'm going to do," Kasumi winked, before disappearing into cloak, "See ya later, Shep." And then she was gone.

EDI raised her SMG, armor reinforcing with a clang, "Ready Shepard. Firing solution acquired."

Raising his own rifle, he took aim at the combat engineer and gave the order, "All teams, hit hard and fast. Permission to engage is granted. Kill with extreme prejudice."

And the courtyard was awash with combat.

Garrus' sniper rifle was the first to bark across the field, the round splitting through the centurion's visorless helmet and spraying viscera and black blood all over the door behind him, body thumping to the ground. True to their cybernetic enhancement, Cerberus reacted swiftly to the attack, immediately turning towards the source.

Then Keeling and Liara rounded the corner, SMG and heavy rifle laying down fire upon the eight vulnerable assault troopers in the middle of the yard, immediately dropping three and forcing the rest into cover. Marcus' mattock coughed twice, and took down the shields of the combat engineer as he drew his Hornet SMG, before sending another round slamming into his gut, and the final one straight through his skull, ending the threat he posed. Revenant fire could be heard, and one of the bogies turned to the source, while the other mercilessly approached Keeling and Liara.

Kasumi appeared behind cover and they heard a trooper cry out, before his body then appeared, body slumping forward against a crate. Reappearing, Kasumi ripped her knife out from the back of his skull, and quickly disappeared again. Garrus' rifle barked again, ending the life of another trooper.

"Fall back! Get to cover!" one assault trooper barked, his synthetic voice never ceasing to irritiate Marcus. One trooper tossed a frag grenade at them, but Marcus merely rolled to the side, and EDI rushed forward with unbelievable speed and agility, reaching the trooper and ramming her SMG into his skull with blunt force, causing him to fall forwards before she slammed her foot into the back of his skull, killing him.

" _Dios mio_!" James exclaimed, and Marcus turned to his position upon the sound of it, "I'm falling back! These bastards are bloody biotics!"

True to his word, Marcus watched as James steadily retreated, the Cerberus soldier moving forward with what looked to be biotic whips, biotic energy encased in bendable energy that could be used to whip, grab or flay the enemy. And James was currently fleeing from one as it continued its relentless assault of dark energy, and the other one moved towards him. And the way it was attacking James and then relocating, it reminded Marcus of something.

_A Dragoon._

Letting his own biotics pulse over him, Marcus raised his rifle and moved to meet the enemy dragoon charging him, watching as Keeling signalled Liara to go deal with the second one pursuing James.

His mattock roared in his hands, shot after shot meeting the kinetic barriers of the charging dragoon, the shock trooper in question dragging his tendrils of dark energy behind him as he prepared to unleash his full might upon the spectre steadily emptying into him. Just as the kinetic barriers of the soldier seemed to drop, Marcus' mattock spat out the empty clip and screeched its discontent at his repeated pulling of the trigger. He quickly holstered the weapon and with speed noone could match, slid forward as the dragoon lashed forwards with his whips, missing by hairs breadth as Marcus closed the distance, quickly standing up and then slamming his helmet into the dragoon's, stunning him.

Clenching his fist, he drew all his biotic might into the punch as he hooked the trooper across the face, visor shattering from the impact as his head shot right and was thrown backwards from the force. Marcus moved to continue the attack, but small shockwave sent him staggering away, giving the dragoon time to stand back up and continue its assault. Dumb as hell however, it attempted to repeat its whip attack, which ended badly for it when Marcus simply picked him up biotically, and then slammed him back down onto the ground, head first. A loud crack was heard, the dragoon's head snapped at an impossible angle, and the entire shock trooper's body went limp, collapsing to the ground with a thud.

Taking a heavy breath, he drew his mattock again and moved to assist the others in taking care of the second dragoon, when he heard a loud synthetic roar, and turned to the source, watching as said soldier came flying through the air to land in the midst of crates nearby, scattering them as he hit the ground with enough force to break one's spine. To answer his question of who did it, Liara appeared, using her biotics to launch herself up and through the air, and then glide to land next to the befallen dragoon much like Samara had done when he first met the asari. But this gliding wasn't graceful; it was fast and full of anger, and even now the asari's features were creased in anger as she landed next to the groaning dragoon, who tried to fight her off with a weak biotic push, one she prompty ignored and then picked him up with her biotics, hovering him just infront of her.

With a barely audible grunt, she shifted back and then slammed the dragoon's face into the concrete three times before letting go, letting its body collapse in the growing pool of black blood that was now growing, body limp. Taking deep breaths, she looked up and met Marcus' gaze, features becoming calmer once she saw his expression. The Liara three years ago would have seen such an act barbaric and terrifying; it would have left her in tears...but the modern Liara had just committed that barbaric and terrifying act.

_She's changed, alot. She's grown up. She's no longer that shy archaelogist; she's the Shadow Broker, and she knows your every secret, and combat has shaped her into a killing machine._

He nodded to her, and turned to the rest of the group, who was mopping up the final thralls of the Cerberus resistance. When the last assault trooper fell, the squads regrouped and reloaded. Sighing, he shook his head as he spoke, "Those biotic shock troopers...the Dragoons...we have to keep an eye out for them. We almost got ourselves killed because we didn't know they were biotic."

"Their presence also proves that Cerberus has no end of surprises," Liara noted, shaking her head as she took in one final breath, "There may be more variants we don't know about. For example, I don't think we've encountered any snipers yet."

"You hear that, Garrus?" Kasumi quipped, "You'll have cybernetically-enhanced competition."

"I'll be sure to send them an invitation," the turian replied dryly, "Maybe they'll be kind enough to buy me some dextro beer before they die."

"Stay frosty people. Cerberus will have heard the gunfire and will definitely be sending reinforcements. Let's just hope they mistake us for the resistance. That mistake might just give us an edge; they'll send less troops to deal with that," Marcus observed.

"Or none at all, given they had a full squad here, plus the two dragoons," Kasumi added, "Maybe they'll just assume the squad will take care of it, and their radio silence just means they don't need assistance."

"An excellent point," EDI complimented, "Considering the intelligence of the average assault trooper here, they are no smarter than the original commandos Cerberus had before their militarization. There is a 15 percent chance of reinforcements being sent."

"I'm liking those odds so far," James said, rubbing his neck as he loaded a fresh clip into his LMG, "Better than having to deal with more of those dragoon bastards and their biotics."

"Let's get moving," Marcus ordered, "Incase we're wrong."

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_1604 hours._

_Excavation Area, ExoGeni Research Dig, Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

"You ever find any dinosaurs when you were digging around, Bluey?" James asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had enveloped as they crossed through the shadows of the bunkers, coming close to the dig site. Cerberus resistance, just as Kasumi and EDI had surmized, Cerberus had assumed a resistance hit-and-run, and did not think to send reinforcements; that, or they deemed protection of the dig site more important. As they moved, Utopia burned brightly in the sky, its radiance painting yellow all over Eden Prime's surface, and making it look as beautiful as ever. Eden Prime was a beautiful colony; they had recovered from the geth attack, they would recover from this.

Liara, sighing at Vega's seemingly stupid question, "No, dinosaurs and other fossils would be paleontology. I'm... _was_...an archaelogist. I studied artefacts left by sapient species, specifically the protheans," she explained, rolling her eyes, and then turned to meet James' eyes, "The two fields are completely different, and-" she cut herself off, noticing the marine's smirk. Sighing again, she turned away, "-you were joking."

"Seems the jarhead does know somethings," Marcus commented, smiling at Liara's embarassment and flushing cheeks, "And he just managed to trick the Shadow Broker, of all people."

"See, I'm bright," James added, chuckling.

"When you want to be," Keeling remarked, "Give you a shuttle, and everything becomes FUBAR, especially if you put an escaping shuttle in the mix."

"Oh give me a break, will ya!" James mockingly snapped, "I've got enough of that shit from Cortez already!"

"And we'll continue to give you shit for it for as long as it provides us comedic relief. Buckle in James, its going to be a while before that dies off," Marcus replied, turning around, grin still present  _until_ they rounded the corner. Then it dropped right off his face and his military training kicked in, snapping into a crouch and raising a fist, signalling his squad to follow his movement. Keeling noticed immediately and dropped, followed by James, and then Kasumi and Liara. EDI took a second to analyze his gesture, file it away in her memory core, and then mimicked the rest of the team, rather awkwardly, as seemed to be her style at the moment.  _She's new to the battlefield of ground warfare. She'll get used to it; she's an AI. She does it faster than organics do._

He made a 'danger imminent' hand signal in front of him, and Keeling dropped prone and began to crawl forwards to get a better position. To see what Garrus saw from his angle, he quickly contacted the turian over the comms, whispering so they didn't draw attention, "Garrus, what do you see?"

"Alot of movement, that's for sure. Looks like Cerberus brought the whole damn party to that dig site," the turian noted, whistling in the odd turian fashion, "From what I can see, they've got at least a platoon of assault troopers, and three centurions leading them. I see four more of those dragoons, and what looks to be six combat engineers standing watch over...well, spirits to be damned, now we know what those packs on their backs are. Portable turrets. They've got six covering every possible entry way. They must have done it in response to our little attack. I see something large and white at the actual dig site, but its hidden by a bunker. I can't get a good look."

"Solid copy. Fill us in on their movements, and do not fire until I give the go. If you absolutely have to, aim for the centurions. Cut their command off at the head."

Not waiting for a response, he turned back to Keeling, who was now comfortably positioned next to a mispositioned crate, eyes down the sights of her valkyrie, "How about it, Keeling? What do you have?"

"Well, we've got a full squad of guardians. Finally thing is, they seem to be using a testudo tactic," she observed.

"Testudo?" Liara asked, confused.

"Its an old tactic that was used over a thousand years ago by a human military power at the time called the Roman Empire," Marcus explained, "Turians remind me alot of them, especially in the way of names and their military structure; Romans were very militaristic, and while they did copy off the Greeks alot, they were brilliant in their own way. Cutting to the point, they have a formation called a testudo, or tortoise. Its basically where they all heap together and heap all their shields together to create this single, impenetrable barrier to protect themselves from arrows; it allowed them to move quickly, keep themselves protected from enemy fire, and to close the distance. Given that guardians have the conventional shields like Romans, and not the kinetic shields we have, it makes sense. And it would be super effective. The fact they're in it now suggests they know we're coming."

"But they don't necessarily know who we are," Kasumi added, "Remember Shep, they might think we're resistance. What they know is that their is a slit in their shields that they need to see through, and, expecting just rebels, will think their aim too crappy to worry about. Unfortunately for them, we've got a team of crack shots and a thief who knows stealth. That testudo won't be a threat."

"What she said," Marcus stated, grinning as he turned back, "Anything else, Keeling?"

"Yeah," she stated simply, "They have a bloody Atlas guarding the site. I think that's what Vakarian was referring to."

"An Atlas mech?" Marcus asked, surprised.  _Cerberus really has come a long way if they got their hands on an Atlas mech; those damn things are expensive and military grade. Last time I encountered one was on Korlus, when Jedore had that Blue Suns custom painted one; back when I was recruiting Grunt a year ago. Luckily for us back then, Jedore was nothing but an incompetent merc, and all I had to do was close the distance. But that mech is controlled by a trained soldier loaded with cybernetics to increase reaction time; and closing the distance with close to a company of Cerberus troops surrounding it is going to be very difficult. We're going to have take it out long range._

"I brought a Cobra missile launcher," James told them, unholstering a bulky looking stream-line white ordnance launcher that looked alot like the asari Disciple shotgun in design, "It only has two rockets, but it should be enough to take care of it."

"We'll clear a path, give you time to line up a shot; but we're going to have to split up again. We can't make this a frontal assault. We need a pincer movement; to trap them. Garrus will provide sniper support like before, and Keeling will take James along with EDI this time, to flank around the back and hit them hard from the rear, while Liara and Kasumi take the frontal assault. Everyone clear?" Seeing their nods, he gave a brief nod himself, "Then let's do this. Take that dig site people; do not let Cerberus keep it."

With a final nod, Keeling got up, and James and EDI followed behind her, disappearing behind a bunker nearby, while Marcus equipped his mattock, checked the scope, and then turned to Kasumi and Liara, "Precision shots. We'll be dealing with the guardians you two, so I want you to make sure you make your shots count. Kasumi, testudo relies on the shields to be amassed up front; they'll be completely uncovered at the back; think you can sneak around and cause some mayhem?"

"That's like asking a soldier 'can you shoot?'" the thief remarked, smirking as she suddenly disappeared into thin air, the only thing giving away her location being the distortion of the air around her form, "You guys take them from the front, I'll make them quiver."

Nodding, he motioned to Liara and they wheeled forward, keying his comm, "All units, push forward. You have permission to engage. Same as before; take no prisoners!"

This time it was the sound of Team Two opening fire that opened the engagement, the sound of synthesized cries of surprise being heard as a combination of Locust SMG, Valkyrie heavy rifle and Revenant LMG fire rained down upon the surprised Cerberus troops. Even as Marcus watched down the sight of his scope, he could see the stationary Atlas mech, covered in the gold and white colors of Cerberus, and its golden hexagon painted on its shoulder, assault trooper operator in the cockpit, turning towards Keeling's team, slowly bringing one large foot after the other. The Atlas was a bulky vehicle, and its two massive legs made the ground shake with every footfall. It had a large glass cockpit, meaning the pilot could easily be sniped once you broke the not so thick glass (last time it took just under eight SMG bursts to break it, and that was point blank) and it was very slow and cumbersome when it came to movement, speed and turning. But, like the YMIR mech, its armament more than made up for it; it packed heavy armour that was essentially bullet proof can could alot of punishment, and possessed a heavy machine gun on one arm, and a gas-operated heavy cannon on the other; able to semi-automatically fire 30mm high velocity explosive ordnance shells with rapid succession. And, as Marcus took notice, Cerberus had added its own modification; a rocket launcher located just under the heavy cannon, which undoubtably would be able to deliver a payload of rockets every once and a while to deal with armoured vehicles. But, he digressed. Seeing the Atlas turn, he also watched as the turrets guarding that side opened up, tearing into the cover that Team Two was using, but quickly changed targets when they saw what they thought to be EDI charging blindly at them; high velocity armor-piercing rounds tearing into it before it then crackled and died.

Spinning the corner, Marcus took aim at the lead slit in the guardian testudo, and fired. He heard and practically felt the round hit dead center, the shield leaning backwards as the guardian wielding it fell backwards into one of his comrades, opening a gap in the formation, but his comrade quickly filled the gap, bringing his shield down to cover it. However, it was clear Kasumi had made her move as some commotion could be heard, and the formation seemed to halt in its advance. Not long after, Kasumi reappeared next to him smiling, "I took down two of them; that should confuse them alittle."

"And this should annoy them," Liara added, bringing her biotics to bear and reaching a hand out, a biotic tendril latching on to one of the shields and then ripping it away, the guardian unable to hold on and simply letting go, leaving him completely vulnerable, with just his Talon heavy pistol to protect him, and he quickly opened fire, but didn't last long before Kasumi poured fire into him and ended his life. Following Liara's example, Marcus wielded his biotics and both of them began methodically tearing the testudo apart as they ripped away shields and killed their wielders. By the time the formation finally fell apart, most of the guardians were dead, and the rest falling back, only to be killed by precision kills from Team One. The guardian squad dealt with, his team pushed forward, reloading their weapons as they saw two dragoons disengaging from the rear front and moving to engage the new threat.

To Marcus' surprise, Garrus' supporting fire was completely absent from the battle, and he began to get worried. Something was wrong. He holstered his rifle and activated his omni-blade, simultaneously grabbing the nearest dragoon and dragging him towards him, using the dragoon's momentum to impale him on an awaiting omni-blade. With the dragoon dead, he tossed his dead body away in time to see the soldier dealt with in equal measure, and the three found themselves confronted by one of the six portable turrets the combat engineers had deployed, and quickly fell into cover as it tore into them.

"We've got three more hostiles, right flank!" a centurion called out, "Charlie squad, move and back up the right flank. Yuri, you know what to do! Concentrate fire on them while we deal with the left!"

 _He said Yuri. As in a singular name. As in...oh shit!_ He turned to Liara and Kasumi, "Switch cover! Over to me!"

They rolled towards him just the sound of a rocket could be heard, smoke trailing behind it as it slammed into the crates they had been using as cover, blasting them apart and sending debris flying everywhere, most of which pinged off their armor. The destruction revealed the Atlas, standing infront of the dig site, its left arm pointed at them and now retreating, having released its payload. It then switched to its right arm, bullets racing up to feet the ground as it fired at them, forcing them further into cover as the rounds chewed up crates and the like. Still not seeing any sniper rounds flying through the air, he commed Garrus, anger filling his voice, "Vakarian, where the fuck are you! We've got an Atlas on our ass, and no sniper support! Give me a fucking sitrep!"

"Sorry Marcus, but I'm sorta trying to play tango with a few Cerberus snipers. Thank you for jinxing me Kasumi," the turian deadpanned, sounding hurried and tired, "I think I'm going to call these bastards my 'Nemesis',' because they sure are fast as hell. They also seem to be the first females I've seen in their military; all of them are female, and seem to be carrying Widow sniper rifles; you can probably see why I don't want to get hit. You saw what Legion could do with those mean rifles."

"Snipers? Well that's just brilliant," he deadpanned, "How long until you think you can be ready to support us?"

"I've taken down three of them, just a matter of finding this last one, and I should be free," Garrus joked, the sound of a rifle firing, followed by the unmistakenable sound of a Widow answering back, followed by turian cursing, "Damn it; I missed. I'll get back to you."

"Copy that," Marcus replied, turning back to his team, "Garrus is out; says to tell you Kasumi that you jinxed him and he's now got a few Cerberus snipers to play hide-and-seek with, so he's going to be busy. We're going to have to take care of them ourselves."

"Well this is going to be fun," Liara snarkily commented, "Especially in terms of that Atlas. Only James has the ordnance to deal with it."

"Not true," Marcus grinned, eying the mech, "Liara, give me the best biotic barrier you have," he ordered, and then proceeded to detach his entire bandolier of frag grenades from his chest, counting at least fifteen in each socket.  _Good, more than enough. I hope._

"Just what are you planning to do?" The asari asked skeptically, narrowing her eyes at him.

"The usual. Just about to run an extremely crazy tactic that will ultimately be successful," Marcus replied, before turning the corner once more, only to be forced back behind it by a raking of fire from the approaching Atlas, which had apparently decided to leave its stationary position and steadily approach them, ground shaking with every step.

"Sometimes I wonder if you possess any sense of sanity," Liara questioned, shaking her head with a weak smile, "Fine, just be careful."

"I always am. Liara, give the barrier now," he ordered, and just as she formed the dark energy sphere around him, he charged at full sprint directly at the Atlas, and was surprised at just how quickly it has closed the distance; it was literally one meter infront of him when he began his sprint. Seeing him coming, it slowly made to raise its leg to crush him, but he slid under its body, coming out behind it. He turned back towards it, and managed to avoid the automated sentry turret nearby to leap onto the mech's back as it moved to turn around, finding a one-handed grip on the fuel tank on its back, allowing him to climb up and onto its 'head.' He could hear the soldier cursing as he tried to swat Marcus off, but the joints wouldn't rotate that far, and clearly weren't designed to do so. Grinning, he grabbed the grenade belt, and found a steel handle for builders to hold on to, tying the grenade bandolier around it. The Atlas, having given up trying to remove him, decided to take out as much of his squad as possible before expiring, and headed for Liara and Kasumi's position. He shouted at them to run, and he primed one of the grenades before leaping off, rolling behind a nearby crate just as the explosive detonated.

Heat flushed over him, and he turned in time to meet the brilliant flash of all fifteen grenades detonating in succession, the explosion managing to completely detach the arm wielding the heavy cannon, but not destroying the Atlas. Luckily for him, he knew this; he had positioned it on that arm on purpose, and he watched as the arm also erupted into flames, all the rockets and heavy ammo inside it also detonating, the wave of heat and destruction overcoming the Atlas, and sending it toppling onto the ground, where it crushed the crates underneath its monolithic weight, the debris shattering the cockpit and eviscerating the driver, slicing him to bloody ribbons. With the Atlas utterly destroyed, Cerberus had lost its main advantage over them, and his team managed to recover enough to begin pushing back.

Kasumi easily dealt with the two sentry turrets on the right flank, so it was a simple matter of hacking the other four. Kasumi, annoyed that she had to compete for control with the combat engineers, was immensely relieved when Marcus focused his fire on said engineers, gunning them down with little effort and allowing Kasumi to seemlessly gain control of the turrets and turn them on their original masters, their automated targetting systems pinpointing the Cerberus IFFs in their armor and opening fire. By the time the battle was over, every centurion and assault trooper left had been torn asunder by their own turrets, and with that done, Kasumi prompted them to self-destruct, and they all simply combusted into flames and debris. The team linked up, regrouped and reloaded, and examined the scene before them. It was carnage; the wreckage of the destroyed Atlas lay behind them, and corpses lay all over the field. Keeling, feeling the need to lift the tension, gave a cough, followed by a light chuckle.

"Well...they definitely know we're here now."

A few moments later, Garrus caught up to them, rifle in his hand and breathing tightly. Once he reached them, he nodded to them, sighing, "Well, thank the spirits you took care of these guys. Those snipers were a piece of work."

"Finally met your match?" Marcus quipped.

"Bastards were damn accurate, it was almost robotic. But they missed; every shot," Garrus added, grinning, "Mostly because I'm just too good for them. I was faster, and when I hit, I hit. But I'll admit, those snipers are pretty damn accurate; better watch for them in the future, especially since they all seem to use Widows. Get hit by one of those, and you're pretty much dead. Shields just don't matter."

"We'll take that into consideration. Good job," they all turned to the dig site, and Marcus sighed, turning to Keeling and James, "You two, stay here and keep watch. You so much as hear a whisper or a shuffle and I want to hear about it. The rest of you, with me. Liara, you take point. You know more about this than anyone. Stay sharp, people."

They moved up ahead, and came to stand upon an elevated platform looking down into the massive hole ExoGeni had been digging. As they looked down, they found the hole to be kilometers deep; they couldn't even see the bottom. Kasumi whistled loudly, kicking an abandoned omni-tool emitter down into the hole, and they all watched it fall; they never heard it land.

"That hole must be miles in depth," Marcus noted, looking at Liara, who had run a scan of what seemed to be the controls to a massive drill, to which the platform was the caretaker for, "What do you have? Do you know the depth?"

"5 kilometers deep," Liara ascertained, and Marcus watched as Kasumi sat on the edge of the platform, dangling her feet over the edge and continuing to whistle, while ignoring Garrus' snarky comments about 'accidentally falling off.' She simply poked her tongue out at him and continued to do as she liked. EDI stood at attention, simply awaiting new orders. He noted this all in the time it took for Liara to continue, "And its finished. According to these readings, we're two minutes too late. Cerberus finished the excavation, and reached the...prothean facility beneath."

"Damn it," Marcus cursed, but before he could continue, Liara spoke up, disspelling any negativity he might have felt at the revelation.

"However, from what I can gather from this data, it seems Cerberus deployed a science team into the facility to find any relevant technology they could use, only to find something that completely surprised them. Something none of them could have expected and...would make history," she frowned, and continued to look through the data. He watched her features change with every passing word, and then she seemed to freeze, eyes widened in pure shock. He had seen that face before; it was the face he had seen when she saw Feron caged up in the ex-Shadow Broker's Base a year ago, before breaking down into tears. But she didn't get tearful, she merely began frantically typing into the terminal, inputting multiple commands as she muttered to herself, and he managed to make out the same repeated sentences over and over again, "Not possible. Its simply not possible. It can't be. Fifty thousand years..."

"What is it Liara, talk to me?" Marcus asked, confused by her rapid fire denials.  _What's got her so worked up?_

She seemed to ignore his question, turning towards him after inputting her final command, and he felt the wire beneath them shudder, but it began to move; something below was ascending. She turned back towards him, shock and denial still in her eyes, and it was worse than before, "I'm bringing up whatever's done there. We need to check to make sure the data's correct, but luckily for us, Cerberus was unable to extract it before we arrived and obviously are waiting for heavier equipment to extract-"

He grabbed both her shoulders, shaking her as he looked into her eyes, "Damn it Liara, what did they find!?"

She simply looked at him, and they heard a beep on the terminal, one Liara quickly turned to assess, but not before stating very simply, "Something that shouldn't even exist in our time period."

Marcus knew she wouldn't say anything else, and simply waited until she had brought up whatever was done there. A door in the middle of the platform slid away and the source of Liara's confusion and shock was presented before them; a pod, gleaming blue and grey, sealed up and the glass completely opaque. Everyone looked at it in confusion, and the pod's sudden appearence even peaked Kasumi's interest, who quickly got up and approached them. Even EDI seemed curious, looking down at it, and beginning her own omni-tool scans of the pod in sync with Liara's.

Liara seemed to reach the same conclusion as she had before, and seemed to take a step back, as if in awe, "So its true...that pod really does contain...oh by the goddess...after fifty thousand years..."

"Liara, you're going to tell us right now what is in that pod," Marcus growled, sick to the death of the secrecy and cryptic shit his asari friend was pulling, "Because if you brought up some ancient prothean time bomb for us to gawk at, I will personally pick it up and throw it at the nearest Cerberus asshole I can find." His voice was full of warning; he either got an answer or not.

She turned towards him, a half smile crossing her face, "I...Shepard, we've just made the greatest discovery in fifty thousand years. The pod...it contains..."

Finally composing herself, she forced the words from her mouth in rapidfire, but they all comprehended them well enough, "Shepard, the pod contains a prothean! A real, unmodified, unhuskified,  _living_ prothean!"

To say Liara's shock and awe had now spread like a contagion would be an understatement; Kasumi simply squealed in excitement, Garrus and Marcus went slack-jawed, EDI remained completely unamazed, and Keeling and James...well, they weren't even present.

"But...how?" was the first question out of Marcus' mouth, "A living prothean has been sitting under Eden Prime for fifty thousand years? Are you sure its not just a skeleton, or a ghost?"

"Shepard, my omni-tool detected his brain activity. Its still active at a subconscious level, which means he's dreaming. And yes, I confirmed its a male; protheans don't appear to be monogendered. Dreaming can only mean he's alive. How he's alive after fifty thousand years, you ask?" she walked over to the pod, a blue hand gliding over its glass surface, "Remember those stasis pods you talked about finding in the Archives on Ilos? The ones that were supposed to sustain them?"

"Cryo-pods. They put the protheans in cryo-sleep, and it was supposed to preserve them for fifty thousand years until they could awaken," Marcus recapped, confirming her assumption, "That's what was meant to happen, until Vigil started cutting power, and they all died."

"Exactly. But the prothean facility below  _still has_ power," she braced against the pod, overwhelmed by the potential of such a find, and he couldn't blame her. It seemed the archaelogist who was fascinated by protheans was finally coming out in their asari friend once more, "Which means his stasis was preserved, and he's still alive! I'm just glad we got here; such a find shouldn't fall into Cerberus hands."

 _And he's a living prothean!_ "That also means he could help with building this superweapon; he might know where the Catalyst is! Shit, he might even be able to provide us with prothean battle tactics to which to base ours off of and improve on," he turned to the pod with a sudden determination in his features, "Liara, we need to crack this pod open now. We need him awake and up to date."

Before he could think further on that, her eyes snapped up to his and shook her head, "No! The stasis is still in operation; if you forced open the pod now, the exposure would kill him!"

"We need him out of the damn pod, Liara. We need to know what he knows," Marcus growled, pointing at the pod, "So unless you know how to open the pod, we at a crossroads right now. We need this asset extracted and safe from Cerberus hands. The last thing we need is what could possibly be the last prothean alive being indoctrinated by a bunch of terrorist fuckwits lead by an insane leader."

"I have been working on locating a source for the stasis' power since you brought the pod to bear," EDI explained, and all of them turned towards her instantly, "Cerberus' science team knows that to unlock the stasis, you must have an understanding of the prothean language and mathematics. Since they lacked this, they looked for alternatives, and found two nodes which they hope would be emergency overrides for the stasis mode. They have them stored in two bunkers across from here, deep in the heart of the colony, where most of the Cerberus forces here seem to be based. They are currently attempting to hold off a renowned offensive by Eden Prime resistance members."

"If those nodes are the only way to unlock this pod, then we'd better get moving," he extended his rifle, nodding to Liara, "You stay here, and watch the pod. If Cerberus reinforcements arrive, you'll have Keeling and James watching your back. Garrus, Kasumi, EDI; you three are with me. We're going to find those nodes and override this damn stasis if its the last thing we do. We'll assist the resistance anyway we can, but I must make unlocking this pod a priority. Okay, let's double time it people."

"We're literally minutes away from making the greatest breakthrough in history. This one's for the books. So let's look like big fucking heroes while doing it."

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_1626 hours._

_Recreation Center, Main Colony, Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

The grenade was primed, and he quickly tossed it over his cover, relocating to another position as he did so. He heard the explosion, followed by the sound of shouting as he slid into cover next to EDI, mattock held firmly within his grasp. He peaked over his cover, risking a look at the location where his grenade had landed; now littered with lifeless corpses, either shredded by the shrapnel or the explosion. Fire pinged off his cover and he quickly ducked back behind the crate, turning back to his AI companion, "EDI, give me a ratio of how many we're facing."

"We are engaged in combat with a company of troops, captain, from what I can see visually," EDI observed, quickly popping out of cover to exchange fire with the enemy before ducking back down, "At most, we are facing eighty-two men in total; two more than a full company. Alliance companies consist of 150 men, but Cerberus companies consist of maximum 80. We're facing a full force here. It is likely that this company will only be a portion of the full battalion Cerberus will have defending this particular colonial site. Alliance battalions are 800 men, while Cerberus battalions are 300 men."

"A full battalion? If its only three hundred men, then we've put quite a sizable dent in them already. And we're facing eighty-two of them right now," Marcus grunted, hearing the lovable sound of a sniper rifle firing again, taking with it, hopefully, another Cerberus life. They were currently locked in a struggle with the Cerberus company, one EDI had indentified as the Cerberus 24th Company of the 2nd Battalion of the Fourth Army Group, of which Cerberus had four all up. One army group split into four field armies. A field army was made up of four corps'. A corp was made up of two divisions. A division was made of five regiments. A regiment was made of seven battalions. A battalion was made of four companies. A company was made of six platoons. A platoon was made of two squads. A squad was made of four fireteams. And, of course, a fireteam consisted of three men. So that was  _alot_ of men; the Alliance still outnumbered them, but Cerberus still had a sizable force to compete with, and that wasn't even counting their navy.

The company before them packed so much firepower, that he had been eventually forced to call Liara, Keeling and James into the fray for backup; Liara leaving the pod hidden in a bunker concealed by crates. It wouldn't hide it forever, but it would long enough for them to find the nodes and override the stasis.

This company had almost everything packed with them; all they lacked was an Atlas, something Marcus was thankful they wouldn't have to fight again. Instead they seemed to have entire squads of assault troopers, with a centurion leading both squads, all six platoons, and one for the company; all up, that was nine centurions. The snipers Garrus had referred to, the ones they were now calling Nemesis', had taken up position at the first node bunker, enjoying the advantage of a wide open padio, which his team had to cross to reach the bunker, and the Nemesis' could just drop them from long range. Guardians held the flanks, securing every single doorway in each portable home, making flanking impossible. Every platoon seemed to have its own dragoon, and they were constantly being hammered by biotic attacks. Combat engineers had set up sentry turrets along the battlefield, riddling their positions with fire while they sat behind them, keeping their shields steady and making sure they weren't hacked, especially by Kasumi. They had learnt unbelievably fast, and Cerberus now had the upperhand over them, something they were enjoying very much.

Another sniper round, and the loud, familiar sound of lead hitting flesh could be heard, and it was answered by the equally terrifying Widow, followed by a turian curse, "Damn Nemesis' know where I am now; relocating."

He heard the sound of something rolling along the ground, and turning, he saw it was a smoke grenade; only centurions used those, and used them as a screening for a mass infantry assault. He grabbed EDI's arm and pulled her inside the portable home, before going prone and sighting down his scope, waiting for the enemy to charge forward.

And they did; an entire squad in fact. They assaulted their previous position, but Marcus was ready, and aimed straight for the centurion, his weapon barking as he thumbed the trigger repeatedly. Shields were chewed up, and soon the centurion found himself dead on the ground, riddled with bullets. But the squad learned quickly, and all 12 assault troopers seemed to switch rotation, turning fully to face him and all opened fire with their assortment of avenger and vindicator rifles. His shields quickly depleted, and he rolled out of the way, cursing as a stray round lodged itself deep into his barrel, ruining the weapon. Cursing his bad luck, he dumped the heavy rifle and unholstered his Hurricane SMG, aiming directly at the doorway as EDI deployed her hologram, and then both made their escape as Cerberus flooded through.

"Our position has been compromised!" Marcus shouted into his comms, "We need suppressive fire on the right flank; coming through! We have an entire squad! Repeat, 12 plus hostiles, all standard troopers."

"Copy that, ready to light 'em up," James affirmed, and Marcus rolled through the doorway as a shot clipped his side, growling at the pain that suddenly shot up his back. EDI suffered a shot to her own back, but due to her reinforced armor, it made no difference and she quickly helped her captain up, retreating to a safe position just as James arrived, Revenant raised and trigger pulled, a stream of heavy incendiary rounds pounding through the hallway.

"Its like playing  _ponyata!_ " James exclaimed as they watched numerous bodies drop from the stream of fire, the Cerberus squad beginning to retreat. They continued to fire at James, but when it became clear their efforts would be moot, they began to fall back, leaving them at half strength. Not that it mattered; they had a full company left to reinforce them, and his team were gaining no ground.

Reloading, James turned back to Marcus, who finished applying medi-gel to his gunshot wound, "You okay, loco?"

Looking up from his finished work, he nodded, gritting his teeth through the pain, as N7 had drilled into him back at boot camp. He remembered his drill sergeant's words clean as day.  _If you can't even take a fuckin bullet, how the fuck do you expect to kill anything? Man the fuck up, slap some bloody gel on it, and get back in the fucking fight. A pussy who lies down groaning in agony isn't an N7, and he definitely ain't a soldier; we expect the best of the best from you. You want the turians to laugh at us? You want the asari to mock us? Do you want the salarians to think you weaklings? Show them what the fuck humans are made up of; show them we don't give a fuck about their slimy opinions, and that we shall show them how much we love our beloved Corps. You were marines yesterday, but today you are an N7. You are the best of the best, and I shall make sure you live up to status. Drop your purses and welcome to hell._ N7 Drill had been hell, and Marcus had survived it, and even now, he just grinned as he met James' eyes, despite the desperate situation.

"If I can't take a bullet Vega, I don't know I managed to kill so many Collectors, Geth, Reapers and Cerberus. Maybe I really do owe it all to Garrus," he joked, "Its just a flesh wound; I'll walk it off. But it could get worse if Cerberus keeps us pinned like this. We need a game changer, and we need it now."

"I'm all ears loco," James replied, shrugging as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, "But I ain't seeing anything that could possibly bring us out of this unbloodied. Cerberus has all their flanks secured, and the path directly ahead is a killing field; snipers and turrets and everything. We'd be totally fucked if we tried a frontal."

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know," the spectre replied, "I need options, not bloody recounts," he growled his last sentence, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. In a lighter voice, he turned to EDI and sighed, comming Keeling, "Lieutenant, you better have some good news for me, because its all bad on this end."

"Share the festivities," she dryly exchanged, the sound of gunfire almost overpowering her voice, "We're being hammered from all sides, and these bloody dragoons are really starting to piss me off. Its like wack-a-hole; go to take a peek at the enemy, and the next thing you're doing is dodging biotic whips just to make sure they don't behead you. Liara's holding them off, but that won't last. I need them gone; or this pressure's just going to cave us."

"We'll see what we can do on this end. Shepard out," cutting the line, he slammed his fist against the crate, cursing, "Damn it! If Tali were here, she'd have those turrets tearing them a new one by now. Grunt would be beating those guardians to death with their own shields, and Wrex would be smashing those Nemesis' skulls in. And Jack? That biotic powerhouse would have cleaned these bastards up all by herself. What about Legion? I'd like to see those Nemesis' play 'whose the best sniper' with him. Nothing beats geth precision."

"The old squad was the best we had. A bloody rolling death machine. Our own personal blitzkrieg," he sighed heavily, shaking his head, "This squad isn't nearly the same. No offense James, but I don't even know you or Keeling fully. EDI having a body is a new thing for me, and I haven't had Liara properly under my command for three years. That leaves just Garrus and Kasumi, and that isn't a cohesive fighting force."

"Not much can be done about that," James stated, oblivious that he was stating the obvious.

"No fucking shit!" Marcus snapped back, "And the problem is that while I'm sitting here, gloating about a superior team that isn't even a team anymore, Keeling, Liara and Kasumi are getting absolutely decimated! I need a plan, now! Something that involves a bloody miracle, because I can think of nothing for it but a frontal attack towards Keeling's position. We need to force them back so we can regroup and coordinate. 'United We Stand, Divided We Fall.'"

"I may have just found your miracle Marcus," Garrus called out over the comm, "By the spirits...and well timed too. Its like they heard the word 'miracles,' looked at their script, and realized it was their moment to shine."

"I don't need witty remarks, Garrus," Marcus growled, "Just give it to me plain."

"Seems the Eden Prime resistance has regrouped and is launching a counterattack. I was going to snipe those two Nemesis' over by the bunker, but they just came out of nowhere, at least platoon sized, and just attacked them out of nowhere. They're both dead now, and Cerberus is going to have to split their attention to deal with the rear flanking movement. And if we're lucky-" a moment passed, followed by a chuckle of victory, "Marcus, I recommend you hit the left flank with everything you have because you've got a limited opening. They've repositioned their guardians to deal with the threat and have left their flank totally exposed. You need to push forward now before they close it again."

"Copy that!" Marcus growled back, leaping up and practically sprinting towards the bunker that had originally been occupied by three guardians before, "Move people! We need to get through that door NOW!"

They practically rushed through, and before the guardian could realize what was happening, Marcus slammed his omni-blade in the space of his back, twisting the blade before ripping it out, lifting up the shield with one hand and approaching the other two guardians, deflecting their shots. This allowed time for James to arrive and he simply charged up, ramming his LMG into the slits of their shields and going full auto, likely reducing their heads to unrecognizable mush. With the trio dead, Marcus dropped the commandeered shield, activated his omni-shield, and charged forward, hitting the Cerberus left flank.

It was bloody chaos; Garrus, coordinating with Keeling, managed to loosen their pressure on their position, allowing them a fighting retreat. The retreat soon became a flanking however when Cerberus realized their left was disintegrated, and sent their guardians to plug the gap, obliviously making the same mistake before, and allowing Keeling, Liara and Kasumi to swing around the right and cripple their flank. With Garrus sniping them, team two hitting the right, team one hitting the left, and the colonists crushing the rear, the company was trapped and had nowhere to go. Victory was certain upon the left collapsing.

Marcus kicked the last assault trooper off of his omni-blade, blood sizzling and popping on the orange energy of the blade, and dripping to the ground in boiled drops. Deactivating it, he turned to survey the battlefield. What had been a certain Cerberus victory had quickly turned into a complete rout, and eventually total decimation of the company; Cerberus did not surrender, and fought to the last man, the mindless creatures they had been engineered into. The dragoons took some trouble to take down, but they eventually, and the rest of the company fell with it. As it stood now, the entire area was just littered with corpses, black blood and red running through the grass, as some colonists had fallen in the counterattack as well. It was a bloodbath.

 _It is good that war is so terrible, lest we grow fond of it._ Could have used a man like General Lee right now; he'd know what to do. Although he'd probably wonder what a Mako was. Or what all these aliens were. Marcus laughed inwardly at that, and then regrouped with his squad, approaching what appeared to be the leader of the colonists, a man named Reginald Wheatley.

"Sir," Marcus respectively greeted, taking the prooffered hand and shaking it firmly, "Your arrival was timely. We wouldn't have been able to hold out much longer."

"All we had to do was follow the gunfire," Reginald remarked, smiling lightly, "Although I am confused at just who you are. I see two soldiers in Alliance colors, so we initially suspected Alliance forces. But now we an asari, a turian, a hooded woman and then you? Just who and what are you?"

"Captain Marcus Shepard," he introduced, clasping his hands behind his back, "Alliance Marine Corps, established N7, Alliance Navy and member of the Special Tactics and Recon branch of the Citadel. My two colleagues are indeed marines, but the rest are my friends and comrades. They helped me stop the geth three years ago, the Collector abductions a year ago, and are now helping me put a stop to Cerberus terrorism and Reaper subjugation across the galaxy. I hope you don't mind our intrusion."

"Galactic Society Saving Service," Garrus muttered to Liara, "Saving people since 2183." The asari giggled, smiling with a nod of agreement.

"We remember you. I remember you," Reginald stated, suddenly in awe of the man before him, "You were part of that Alliance team that landed in Colony Euphoria during the geth attack. I should know; I was there. I saw you; although you were a much different man back then."

 _Am I really so popular that I must constantly be running into people I know or have seen me? Is the galaxy getting smaller or something?_ He nodded, smiling warmly, "I did everything I could to save the colony then Mr. Wheatley, and I will do everything I can to kick some Cerberus ass, but my priority must be to secure that prothean pod from the ExoGeni site."

"There's always another motive," one colonist shouted, "Its never about us!" His objections were almost identical to that of Arcelia Silva Martinez, a rent-a-cop he met on Feros during the old days.

Reginald turned to him, silencing the crowd with a single glare before turning back to Marcus, sighing, "I apologize, most colonists, as you know, aren't very big friends of the Alliance; not since the abductions. I just find it ironic; the very people who had been protecting and fighting for us then are now the ones occupying our land and butchering our people. But at least it isn't abduction. But just what could that prothean pod be to be of any value? ExoGeni were digging it up until Cerberus came along, and then the bastards came along and continued it. What's so damned important about it? First Euphoria with its damned beacon, and now this?"

 _Best to give them the full story. No need to sugar coat it._ "The pod seems to contain a living prothean, frozen in some kind of stasis mode for fifty thousand years. We did not know this until we dug it up, and neither did Cerberus; we both assumed prothean technology was part of the rush to dig it up. We were wrong. This is far more valuable," he stated, continuing despite their looks of disbelief and skepticism, "If he's awoken, not only could he fill the historical gap that fifty thousand years has left, but he could also provide us vital intel on his people's war with the Reapers and how they were defeated. He could win the war for us, and all we have to do is wake him up."

"Then why don't you?" Reginald asked, seemingly finding the answer obvious.

"Because it isn't that simple," Liara declared, all eyes moving to her, "The stasis mode is still active, and if we opened the pod, it would kill him due to the exposure; the thaw has to be done slowly and methodically, not instantaneously. Cerberus found two nodes that can override it."

"That's the reason we were fighting this company," Marcus added, pointing to the bunker they had been defending, "One is in there."

They all looked at it, and continued doing so even as Reginald turned back, slowly nodding, "Very well. But we must ask one thing; what is the Alliance doing to liberate us?"

"Nothing. The Alliance can't afford any fleet action or marines, especially this close to Reaper territory, and with their state after the Fall of Earth, they're in no position to engage Cerberus in open battle. We're it."

"Forgotten about," the same colonist stated again, "Just like Feros. Just like all the colonies the Collectors abducted! They were ignored and abandoned, and now we're being abandoned to."

"But that doesn't mean I won't liberate this colony," Marcus declared, suddenly remembering that he had an army.

"What?" Reginald laughed, "Just you lot? I don't care how much of a invincible hero they make you out to be, but this colony is occupied by just one battalion, and that's not counting the two regiments occupying the planet, and the fleet above us. Hell, we have a destroyer hovering right over us. Unless you have an army, this colony is staying Cerberus."

"Oh, but I do. Its not, but I can change that," Marcus declared, smiling, "I recently managed to recruit the entire Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack organizations, and the Queen of Omega controls all of them, waiting for my command. What if I told you, that with one communique, I could have them deploying in full force to kick out the Cerberus invaders?"

Reginald narrowed his eyes skeptically, "Ignoring the fact that these are mercenaries we're talking about, what about the fleet above?"

"A distraction. As the tactical commander, you'll leave that up to me, but trust me, we'll find a way to drive them from orbit to engage a threat they can't ignore, and my frigate will cripple the destroyer, only our forces to deploy and retake the planet. When Cerberus' fleet returns, they'll have two Alliance fleets waiting for them, and will have no choice but to pull out."

Reginald hesitantly nodded, "Very well, captain. Unlike the Alliance, you didn't abandon the colonies; you were out there, saving us. You're a trustworthy man, and we're going to trust you on this. We can only hope that you deliver."

"Your trust is well placed, Mr. Wheatley," he turned and began to approach the bunker, motioning Kasumi ahead to hack it while the colonists take up defensive positions around the area to ward off any Cerberus attempts to retake lost ground. Marcus all the while marched the steps, Kasumi already hacking the lock by the time he reached the top, Liara quickly at his side and Garrus, Keeling, James and EDI forming up behind them.

"This encryption is pretty lame when you don't have a combat engineer constantly changing the frequencies and patterns," the thief mused verbally, tapping a button on her omni-tool that immediately caused the haptic interface to flash and for the door to slide open, revealing its interior. Turning to them, she bowed in an overly dramatic manner, grinning all the way, "Welcome to the Mad Scientist's lab; were undoubtably weird stuff is guaranteed to find a home."

Marcus moved in first, scouring the small room for any signs of resistance; there was nothing, no life. Holstering his rifle, a mattock he had taken from a dead centurion, he examined the room; it was a box shape, and had numerous consoles around it, obviously portable ones brought by the Cerberus science team. Upon further investigation, they found the node; it stood out like a sore thumb, the smooth, sleek, blue and green design of it standing out amongst the imperialistic design of human terminals. It hummed with energy, pulsing blue every five seconds, and looked completely exposed. A large vidscreen hung above, only static barring its display; upon further observation, they could see the screen hooked up to the node.

"Obviously Cerberus tried to access the node and understand it," Liara noted.

"Static was their answer," Garrus concluded.

"Its only because they couldn't understand the prothean language," Liara retorted, accessing the terminals to see what data they collected, "They extracted data from it, what appears to be...biological...mental...data, but couldn't comprehend any of it because its in prothean."

"But none of us can rea-" Garrus then stopped himself, eyes falling upon the back of Marcus' head, "Actually, scratch that. There is one person in the room who can read prothean."

Marcus nodded, looking at Liara, "Remember the cipher back on Feros, Liara? The one Shiala gave me? Remember how it gave me complete understanding of how to be prothean, and how to speak and understand their language? I'm the only one who can make sense of this data."

"You're right," Liara stated, standing away from the terminal, motioning to the node, "Then by all means, Shepard, process the data. Tell us what it means."

"Uh...how?" Marcus asked, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling a bit dense.

She rolled her eyes, motioning again to the node, "Simply touch it. All prothean technology seems to be hardwired around touch."

He nodded, and slowly moving forward, eying the small device. It reminded him of a smaller version of Object Rho, and that was not a fond memory. But he pushed the thoughts away, knowing that to find the override, he had to sift through the data to find it. So he hesitantly reached a hand out, first removing his armoured gauntlet and then the glove beneath, before letting his skin touch it, and his whole hand press against it.

In that instant, he blacked out, and for a few moments, it was the beacon visions all over again. But this was slightly different; slightly less epilepsy inducing, and more sturdy, more structured and less random. He heard screaming, and he saw what looked to be the head of a prothean, jaw opened wide in a perputual scream frozen in time. A Reaper airhorn sounded, and the image seemed to still itself, showing an image of a dense forest, a Reaper Destroyer marching across it, red beam of death cutting swaths right through the forestry, likely killing dozens of protheans below, a prothean city itself standing tall in the distance, skyscrapers glimmering as fire consumed them. And as quickly as the image presented itself, it was gone, more screaming, being heard, and then once more, darkness consumed him.

Suddenly, he was awake, but he was not back in the bunker; he was in some vast, underground facility; the ceiling was a dozen meters above him, and large observation windows to his right showed a city on fire, Reapers trudging along it, spreading death as they moved, fighters engaging them and exploding in the sky. Smoke engulfed the sky, choking the planet in death, and screaming echoed throughout the plains. The interior was dim and yellow in color, but that was pretty much all he could make out of it. But what caught his eye was the city outside itself. It was prothean.  _Just where the hell am I?_

Fire crackled all around him, and he found himself slowly moving back as shapes moved towards him and somehow, he knew exactly who they were.  _Nakar. Pilat. Traka. Aelus. Culet._ They were his troops, his men, and somehow he knew who they were, without even meeting them. They were prothean soldiers, running towards him in a retreating fashion, and suddenly Marcus found himself wielding an unusual weapon, a rifle he presumed; it was long, elongated, sleek and had the typical blue and green design of prothean architecture. He raised it, a three-fingered hand gripping it as other figures came around the bend, more numerous than the others, and at least company sized; and when they came into range, this time, Marcus  _did_ know who they were.

The Collectors.

The weapon gave a thrum, and and a steady pulse of green light, much like that of the Collector Particle Beam, shot out from its barrel, impacting a Collector drone squarely in the chest and killing it instantly. He timed his shots; taking aim and taking down each Collector with precision, but eventually the enemy force became too great, and he had to start falling back. One Collector, a captain, raised another type of odd weapon, and fired, and it gave the same sound of a Collector Assault Rifle, although it sounded nothing like it; bullets of high velocity hitting Aelus in the back of the knee, and causing him to fall forwards, his weapon, one that he instantly recognized as a prothean particle rifle, of the same type he was currently wielding, sliding from his grip as the captain finished him off.

He lowered his weapon, and his hand shot forward, biotics shooting forth as he grabbed the Collector and tossed it aside; unlike most biotics however, this prothean's biotics were bright green. He continued his assault, and both three-fingered hands shot forth this time, unleashing a green biotic tidal wave that knocked the entire Collector horde pathetically aside, along with a few other types of husks of species he recognized once more; Densorin.  _Wait, what the fuck is a Densorin? How do I know t-_ Then it hit him. Liara's words.

_...what appears to be...biological...mental...data..._

_Mental data. This is a memory._

His men formed up behind him, helping him continue the defense as the Collectors and huskified Densorin pushed their attack, seeming to come in unstoppable hordes. A particle rifle fired from within the horde, hitting Nakar square in the shoulder, causing him to cry out as it seemed to ignore his kinetic barriers, and he fell onto his back, stunned from the attack. Marcus heard the man's thoughts, and he knew the battle was lost, so he launched another biotic shockwave at the closing enemy, opening what looked to be the prothean equivalent of an omni-tool, and watching as the holographic form of another prothean, the hologram being bright green, appeared before him. Just like all the other prothean soldiers, Marcus noted, they all seemed to wear somekind of sumarai type armor; bright crimson armor that covered their entire body save for their head and everything below the knees. They looked exactly like Collectors, but with multicolored skin; their head crest was grey, while their face was the same color as humans, and seemed to have canine teeth, six eyes, and a small, almost non-existent nose. Combine that with their triangle-shaped head, and the protheans were a very unique race indeed.

When he spoke, it was an air of authority, and Marcus guessed the man who's memory he was witnessing was the commanding officer of this unit. When he spoke, it came off as having a very thick jamaican accent, and it surprised him heavily, "Victory, seal the doors!"

"Acknowledged," the holographic prothean, which was obviously a VI, named Victory responded, this one's accent sounding more along the lines of a cross between German and/or Russian, "Sealing the doors. You have ten seconds to get inside." Then the sound of metal moving could be heard, and Victory winked out of existence, allowing him to kneel down and grab hold of his wounded comrade, his squad providing covering fire as he dragged him behind the closing blast doors. He watched the Collectors reach the door just as it sealed shut, the prothean commander taking a deep breath, as he whorled to face his squad. Then his eyes seemed to glare past them, right at the destruction behind them; flames licking at the massive corridor.

He seemed to frown, as if in vehemence, before beginning to pace, speaking as he did, "How many have we lost?"

Victory appeared out of nowhere, hands clasped behind his back as he eyed the commander, "Reaper forces have destroyed approximately three hundred thousand lifepods."

He whorled back to face the VI, and moved in his face, anger and fury in his voice, "A  _quarter_ of OUR PEOPLE!?" after a moment, he calmed down, turning around, shaking his head, "How am I meant to retake the galaxy in fifty thousand years if we can't even get a million soldiers into stasis without dying?"

"The Reapers will continue to advance. We must persist," Victory insisted, "For the Empire."

"For the Empire," the commander seemed to return, and then suddenly an explosion rocked the facility, the prothean turning towards it, not even needing to know what caused it, "Where?"

"Portside bulkhead, northern side," Victory responded, winking out.

"Then all forces advance to the North!" he shouted, beginning to sprint at full, brandishing his particle rifle once more, "This base  _cannot_ fall!" And then all went black once more, and Marcus felt himself returning to the world of the modern times.

As if waking from a deep slumber, his eyes shot open, finding himself back inside the bunker. He found Liara and Garrus crouched next to him, obviously startled by his sudden awakening and the rest of his squad lingering nearby.

"Shepard, you're awake!" Liara exclaimed, "You did it. Don't know how, but the node made a loud beeping sound before saying something in prothean. I guess that means it worked."

"I saw it Liara. I saw them," Marcus explained, "The data wasn't just biological information, it was a memory, and the cipher allowed me to see it. I saw them fifty thousand years ago, during their fight with the Reapers. I saw the weapons they used, what they fought...how they were losing. The technology Liara...it was definitely superior to what we have. But I also saw the Collectors. They were fighting the Collectors."

"You saw the protheans during their war with the Reapers?" Garrus asked, fascinated, "What was it like?"

"What you'd expect," Marcus glumly stated, sighing heavily, "Completely hopeless."

They continued to the next node in the next bunker, and once again he found himself in the boots of the unnamed prothean commander. But unlike before, he was jump started into the hectic chaos of combat. Now was calm; the distant sounds of combat, destruction being unleashed by the full power of the Reapers nearby, and what Marcus swore had been the distant voice of Harbinger. He watched as he walked across the empty corridor, one of his men at his side, weapon holstered on his back and the rest of his squad waiting ahead. Without warning, the man next to him spoke.

"I never thought the Empire would fall," the prothean stated hopelessly.

He stopped, and suddenly wheeled on him, slapping him across the face. The prothean held his cheek, and the commander seemed to scold him, calmly, none of the anger he had before showing out, "It won't," he motioned to the facility around him, and Marcus suddenly realized it looked alot like the Archives on Ilos.  _This is the facility we just dug the pod out of._

"We will sleep here until the Reapers return to dark space," he told him, hand gripping his shoulder, the soldier suddenly forgetting that his commander had slapped him, "And then we will rise again, a million strong. And then we will prepare the next cycle; the Empire will be reborn."

"For the Empire," the soldier chanted.

"For the Empire," the commander returned once more, and they turned towards 12 opened pods; all of them waiting for their occupants. He turned towards the soldier next to him, "Go and get into your pod; within minutes, you will wake up again, in a world free of the Reapers," he patted his shoulder, and the soldier was quickly jogging off, the commander not joining them for some reason as he made to move away, Victory appearing at his side again, "Victory, broadcast the stasis readiness signal to all lifepods once they are safely stored away, and not before."

"And what of the refugees who have not yet reached the bunker?" Victory pondered, and the commander seemed to stop and ponder these words. With regret, he looked back up at the hologram and sighed.

"Their sacrifice will be remembered in the rebirth of the Empire," the commander simply stated.

_Wow, these protheans really loved 'the Empire.'_

Suddenly, another explosion rocked the base, and they both turned to watch as Collectors charged inside and charged at him again. He readied his particle rifle, anger crossing his features. Victory disappeared, and so did Marcus view of the memory as it began to fade away once more, and the darkness finally took hold.

After waking up, he was informed that both nodes had deactivated, and Liara's readings of the pod showed that the stasis had been overriden and they could now open the pod. So without further delay, they had made best speed back to where they had kept the pod, moving into the portable where it had been stored. The colonists gathered around the strange object, and were still watching even as Marcus stood next to the pod, Liara typing in the commands into the pod to open it.

Everyone took a step as a hiss escaped the pod, hatch decompressing as it slowly opened, revealing its occupant. Everyone leaned over to get a closer look, but only Marcus got a clear view of the prothean below him, lying down. The prothean was not yet awake; eyes still closed and in a deep slumber. He wore the crimson red sumarai armor that Marcus had seen the other soldiers wearing, and had three-fingered hands and three-toed feet.  _Will there ever be a species that has five-fingers and toes like the asari and humanity? Why is it always three-fingers?_ He had six eyes and, just like in the memory, was the perfect image of a Collector before its transformation into the abomination that it was. Then, they heard the man take a deep breath, and every step another step back, all except Marcus, who remained standing firm, hands clasped behind his back.

For the first time in fifty thousand years, a prothean was waking up.

Liara moved closer, and gasped, eyes widened in awe as she looked at the object of her passion of her archaelogy, "Goddess..."

After a moment, he did not move. But after a few more seconds, Marcus noticed one of his fingers twitch, followed by a shuffle of one of his feet; he was regaining consciousness. His mouth twitched, momentarily baring his canine teeth, before his lips spread in a grimace; or what they took for a grimace, anyway. And then, like something from a movie, everything had twitched, ending with his eyes opening, one by one.

It took some time, he imagined, for his vision to gain focus, and he took a look around. His eyes scanned the room...and then landed on them. He did not say anything, he merely stayed frozen, looking at them as if they were some kind of weird alien monsters.  _Strictly speaking, we should be alien to him. The asari hadn't even achieved spaceflight when the protheans roamed the galaxy._  As the prothean stared at him, Marcus also noticed his eyes; instead of the milky white of the eye, these were golden yellow, and their irises were two black dots merged together horizontally, giving him a very alien-like appearance.

Then after a second, the strings that held the tense silence were cut, and the prothean frowned at them, before brimming with green biotic light.

Before anything could be said, the prothean launched a small shockwave in their direction, sending his entire squad collapsing onto the ground. The colonists seemed to tense, but Marcus held his hands up, telling them not to do anything, "Do not shoot or harm him!"

The prothean, grunting, weakly got up from his pod, and stood one leg after another onto the other side. His legs wobbly from his long stasis period, he fell onto all fours, shaking his head to relieve himself of the sensation he felt. He stood again, and this time moved towards the portable doors, moving back and forth like some had drunken too much.

"Let him through!" Marcus ordered, and the colonists parted, watching as the prothean passed through the open doorway and practically bolted outside. Marcus, having recovered from the ancient commander's meek biotic strike, got to his feet and sprinted in pursuit of the soldier, Liara quickly behind him, followed by the rest of the team, the asari shouting at him.

"Be careful! He's confused! Fifty thousand years of stasis; he hasn't experienced our cycle! Everything around him, including us, will be completely alien to him! He might react hostilely."

Marcus nodded, and arrived in the doorway to a odd sight; the prothean commander, particle rifle in hand, something he apparently hadn't seen previously, stood stoicly in the middle of the field, staring blankly at Eden Prime's background. He seemed completely awe...and in complete confusion.

The prothean stared meekly at the area around him as Marcus quickly, and quietly, approached from behind, his squad staying put, except for Liara. Confident the prothean wouldn't understand her, she spoke, "Remember, its been fifty thousand years for us..." Marcus arrived behind him, reaching out his hand to touch the man's shoulder to urge him to turn around.

"...but for him, its only been..."

"...a few minutes!"

Suddenly, Marcus was shoved back into the memories of the prothean commander, the one he now identified as the one in the pod, shouting the words into the face of Victory, more flames licking at the structure all around them as the VI looked stoicly back at him, hands clasped behind his back in his usual fashion.

"There is no other option," an explosion rocked the facilty again, debris falling from the ceiling above them, "The bunker is falling. You must get to your pod."

The commander was having none of it, waving his hand in the VI's face, "There are pods online! Those soldiers are still alive!"

As if echoing his previous words on purpose, the VI merely responded calmly, "Their sacrifice will be remembered in the rebirth of the Empire."

The commander snarled at the VI, but knew he was right. Sighing, he nodded his head, holstering his particle rifle on his back, shaking his head at the dead bodies surrounding them; Collector and Prothean alike. Marcus, suddenly comprehending it fully, was watching the total destruction of the prothean species.

Victory spoke once more, "General Amarak has confirmed last stand strategy," the VI recited, "Preparing neutron bombardment. All surviving troops are ordered to get into their lifepods immediately."

Snarling, he nodded, rushing over the open pod that lay waiting for him. As he did, he spoke, "How many soldiers survived?"

"Around four hundred thousand," Victory declared, "All of them within their pods."

He merely grumbled to himself, opening his pod and laying down in it, "How am I meant to retake the galaxy with only a quarter of our planned forces left..." he shook his head, watching as the pod began to recede into the wall with the other pods, hatch closing and hissing with compression.

"Beginning neutron bombardment."

He closed his eyes as the pod shook violently, shaking with the facility's decimation and purging, and opened them moments later as the shaking stopped, as if having survived an earthquake.

"Neutron bombardment completed...Commander Javik. The facility is secured."

"What's left of it," the prothean named Javik retorted angrily.

"Further adjustments may be necessary," Victory declared, "The purge compromised the facility."

Frowning, Javik spoke, "Clarify."

"Sensors are damaged," the VI explained, "Automated reactivation is not an option. You will remain within stasis until a new culture discovers this bunker. This may lead to a power shortage, due to the length of the Reaper campaign, and the evolution of the primitives in this galaxy."

_Primitives? Gee, thanks._

Javik seemed to get angry at this, and growled once more, "Do NOT shut off more pods! I need the few that are left!"

"Power needs will be triaged appropriately," Victory responded, and this seemed to calm Javik down, as he immediately lay back down, relaxing his stance, "You will be the voice of our people." A hiss could be heard as the stasis began, and Javik began to fall asleep, but not before mouthing his final words for fifty thousand years.

"I will be more than that."

And then, just like the rest of the memories, Marcus was flashed back to the present, but this time it wasn't him who stumbled and fell to the ground, but the prothean he now knew as Javik, falling to his hands and knees once more as he recovered from the memory flood, his particle rifle falling to the ground, unneeded. Marcus, surprised, simply let his hand flop back to his side. Liara spoke, voice full of worry.

"Shepard, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Liara," he responded, halting her approach by raising his hand, "But I don't think Javik is."

"Javik?" Liara asked, confused, "How do you know his name?"

"When I touched him, I saw his memory of his final moments before entering the pod. I heard his name mentioned. He was a commander, like me," Marcus explained.

"Amazing," the asari merely observed, fascinated by this.

Suddenly, Javik spoke, " _Izk oap italq pek?_ "

 _Why can't I understand him? I have the cipher._ Then he remembered his translator in his omni-tool, and accessed the tool responsible and disabled it, turning back to Javik, "Could you say that again?"

This time, he understood him perfectly, "I said, how many are left?"

Marcus looked at him with pity, shaking his head, "As far as we know, just you."

"Taaza qu pe ja lo?" Liara questioned, and Marcus sighed, trying to rub his temples, but realizing his helmet was off and quickly removed it, clasping it under one arm as he turned back to Javik.

"You can understand me?" Marcus asked. Javik didn't seem all that distressed by his loss, but simply lay there, crouched, looking at Eden Prime's landscape.

"Yes," the prothean responded, before feeling the need to explain himself, "Now that I've read your physiology, your nervous system. I've read enough to understand your language."

Marcus turned to Liara and Garrus, both speaking in their alien tongues, his translator disabled and no longer able to translate what they were saying and motioned to his omni-tool, showing them his translator was disabled. Both of them nodded, and remained silent, as Marcus turned back to Javik, gulping as he asked, "So...you somehow were reading me, while I was seeing..."

The prothean nodded, coming to stand, this time more fluidly, as he now got over his original grogginess, "Our last moments. Our failure."

Sick of looking at the prothean's back, Marcus moved to stand next to Javik, who immediately moved his head to look at him, six eyes glued to his two, "Your people did everything they could. They never gave up, never stopped fighting. And that's the kind of fire I could use right now. You know what the Reapers are."

Javik nodded, conceding, "I was supposed to come back to raise back the greatness of my people's Empire, but that is now longer a possibility. My people are gone, and I am all that's left. And my mission has failed anyway; we were to be reborn before the Reaper's return, so as to facilitate preparation for their coming. Now they are here, and you are no more prepared."

Cortez's voice suddenly came through the comm, "Captain, whatever you did down there got Cerberus interested; all their forces within the colony are converging on your position, and that destroyer knows you're here."

Marcus nodded, telling Cortez to return to the Normandy. He looked up to talk to Javik, only to see the prothean looking at his squad, shaking his head, "First I see a human, now I see three, a turian, and an asari," he seemed to look disgusted, hell, even shocked, "I'm surrounded by primitives."

Ignoring that little jab, Marcus turned back to Javik, "Its not safe here, and we have Cerberus forces narrowing down on us. Will you join us?"

"What is this Cerberus you speak of?" Javik asked, "Is it your name for the Reapers in this cycle?"

"No, they are a pro-human terrorist organization that recently became militarized, and we believe is indoctrinated by the Reapers."

"Ah," Javik seemed to acknowledge, as if familiar with the term, "Your cycle has them as well. Every cycle has a treacherous splinter faction of separatists that are indoctrinated. Ours was the Yuala Tor. They betrayed us and fought against us in civil war. The Reapers used them to weaken us and divide us, much as they are likely doing with your Cerberus," he shook his head, nodding, "Yes, these Cerberus seem to be nothing but puppets of the Reapers. You fight them, yes?"

"For three years, we have been," Marcus replied.

Javik nodded, apparently satisfied as he leaned down and picked up his particle rifle, brandishing it, "Then we will see if this cycle is worth fighting for, or if it is already doomed, just like those before it."

Marcus held out his hand for the man to shake, but he simply looked at it, shook his head, and then walked away, sighing heavily. Soon, however, he stopped, turning back to Marcus and moving over to him, removing his omni-tool and accessing it. Before Marcus knew what he was doing, he gave him back his omni-tool, "Send this upgrade to your asari and turian, along with your soldiers."

"What is it?"

"An upgrade to your primitive translation software," he declared, "If you were prothean, all I would have to do is touch you, and you would understand everything; that is how we taught our children. We had no need of your 'schools.' However, since I must refrain to using your technology, this translation software is upgraded so that they may understand me. Unit cohesion would falter if one could not understand commands."

Marcus glared at him, his voice a warning, "I am in command here, Javik. You may have been a Commander fifty thousand years ago, but right here and now, I command this unit, and I will not have you undermining that authority."

"As a Prothean, I respect authority," Javik growled, turning to walk away, "But you have yet to have shown me that you have earned it, and therefore, I will only follow your commands, and hope you are the fighter this cycle is asking for. For when we exchanged thoughts, I saw some of your personality. I saw who you are. You have fire, this cycle needs that. People think you are the last hope for this cycle; let's hope you are right," and with that, Javik was gone, moving to join his squad. Shaking his head, he merely pushed ahead, and linked up with his team, who all looked at their odd new squad member.

"Javik is a part of this squad now," he announced, "And together, we're going to kick Cerberus out of this colony."

**"Keelah. A living prothean. Its quite a shock."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"You found a living prothean? I find that hard to believe."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"You'd believe it if you were there. He was real, and boy did he enlighten us on many things. First things first, he showed us that our views of a great, moralistic and chivalristic Prothean people were completely loaded with shit. In the end, he showed us that the Prothean Empire was the exact opposite; it was bordering on fascist, was overly militaristic, highly imperialistic, cunning, and overbodingly condescending. And if it wasn't that that annoyed you, then being called a primitive or 'human' every five minutes didn't help either."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Holy shit, this was longer than expected. Aren't you happy this is TWO parts, and not one! That would have been hell to write, upload and read!** _

_**Anyway, Part 2 will be up later, hopefully. But with my holidays coming to an end, it isn't likely to be soon, more like later. As you already know, Part 2 will be the retake of Eden Prime; you wanted your war assets used, well, this is just a taste of what I'll be doing with them. I never believed Shepard would just gain these assets and then they'd sit on their ass for the rest of the game until needed at the end; this is a war, and your forces are always constantly fighting. Which means they don't sit on their ass; they participate. Which means we get to see Marcus leading legions of Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack into battle. Sound cool? Fuck yeah! I can't wait to get writing it!** _

_**Next Chapter's contents:** _

_**1\. The Battle for Eden Prime: Javik, Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack combat, along with some Aria and her mercs. There will be snippets from the orbital battle between the Alliance and Cerberus as well, if I can fit them in.** _

_**2\. Conversation with Javik. Conversations with Cortez, Samantha, Keeling and James (if I can fit them in! If not, next chapter!)** _

_**Until next time! (Where are you!? I got ONE review last chapter! Come on guys, if you're reading this, review! Live me some feedback! I need to know I'm appreciated!)** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	12. From Ashes, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard mobilizes his fresh mercenary force and launches a counteroffensive against Cerberus strongpoints in an attempt to liberate Eden Prime.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TEN:**

**FROM ASHES PART TWO**

_June 5, 2186_

_1842 hours._

_Cargo Storage, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik._

Marcus waited for the elevator to ascend as he took a long winded, squaring his shoulders as best as he could do, wearing combat armor. They had only been back on the ship for half an hour, and he was already back in his Terminus armor, suited up and ready for combat. His weapons were strapped to his back, but he had decided to leave the helmet in the armoury until he had spoken with Javik; their new prothean crew member. The very discovery still sent shocks through him as he thought about it, and even now he was still trying to come to terms with what they had pulled out of the ground.  _Fifty thousand years...God, that's a long time to be asleep. And for him, it might as well have been yesterday._

The elevator arrived on the fourth deck, and he stepped out, turning left to head towards the Cargo Storage Bay; it had originally been the home of Urdnot Grunt, a krogan supersoldier bred from a test tube and created by a mad krogan scientist (a very rare term) called Okeer on the planet of Korlus. The krogan wasn't just normal; he was a supersoldier, with the power, strength and abilities of a krogan pre-genophage. He had been a valued crew member of the Normandy, and now he was likely on Tuchanka, helping Wrex rally the krogan clans for war. Now his old home would be the home of their new guest.

Tapping the interface, the door opened and he stepped inside, immediately noticing a major difference in the interior of the room. What had once been a brightly lit, grey steel room, with observation windows covering the right wall, Grunt's tank at the back, and a guard rail covering the central right, was now a dimly lit room with a few crates lying around, the guard railing removed and floor plating added, the windows sealed off with thick bulkheads, and Grunt's tank removed completely, with two desks in its place, and a vidscreen hanging over them from the ceiling, data of the Normandy running through it. And to be honest, he didn't like it.  _Was it really necessary for the Alliance to retrofit this room? It seems completely pointless. It serves no purpose but to store crates. Guess they were desperate to remove the 'Cerberus stench' from the ship, I guess._

The room had occupants, namely in the position of Alliance marines standing guard in sections of the room; namely the Normandy's entire security detail, with Keeling standing at the front, rifle harnessed around her chest while she tapped away at her omni-tool, scanning Javik, who stood inbetween the two desks at the end of the room, sitting down looking intently at all of them with a look of disgust. Liara stood next to Keeling, looking down at him, arms crossed and still gazing in awe at the person before her. He nodded to the only marine in the room who noticed his approach, and the marine immediately snapped a salute, shouting.

"Captain on deck!" he shouted, and they all turned around immediately, lowering their weapons and snapping firm salutes. Keeling did the same, before turning back to her omni-tool, and Liara merely nodded at him, not familiar with the human custom. Marcus let it slip though as he came to stand on Keeling's right; he wasn't really a big fan of 'military practice' anyway. He played loose with strictness on his ship, and he liked it that way.

Javik shifted his look to the room's new occupant, and simply shook his head, looking at the floor as he mumbled something about being surrounded by primitives. He looked at Keeling, initially shooting a confused look at Liara's irritated features. When she saw this, she quickly elaborated, turning to look at him, "Second Lieutenant Keeling won't let me talk to him. Of course, her excuse was..." she motioned to Keeling to continue, and she did so, right on cue in fact, and without even pausing to look away.

"First contact with an alien species; Alliance protocol dictates we assume hostility and until it can be proven otherwise," she stated, and Liara nodded, rolling her eyes.

"Thank you," before turning to Marcus, anger in her eyes, "Which is completely ridiculous! You can't just assume someone is hostile!"

"We learnt from the First Contact War," Keeling justified, "The turians attacked us without even scolding us, which means we can't trust anyone we haven't already put a name too. He's the first prothean anyone has ever encountered, and given his attitude towards us on Eden Prime, I'm not taking any chances with this crew's safety."

He rested a hand on the N7's shoulder, and she turned to look at him, her eyes set in her usual steely gaze, "I think we can handle this, Lieutenant. Liara is an expert on protheans, so I think she can handle one. I'm heavily-armed, and I think I can handle him if he tries anything. Have your men stand down and return to their posts; and that means you too. I need you rested before we land back on Eden Prime tomorrow."

She nodded, snapping a salute as she deactivated her omni-tool, "Very well sir, I transfer command of this to you. Anything happens, contact us; I'll have two men waiting outside just in case you need assistance."

He nodded, returning the salute before relaxing it. Keeling did the same, and quickly pivoted on the spot, motioning for the squad to leave, all of them following behind her. When the door slid shut again, the room was plunged back into silence. Marcus coughed awkwardly, and both Liara and himself turned to the seated prothean, who simply continued staring at the ground unmoving. He noticed the prothean's unique rifle laying on one of the desks, along with what looked to be a miniture prothean beacon, hovering a pedestal and no more bigger than his hand; he had no idea what it was, but it clearly held some importance to the prothean. He didn't notice it before, but he also noticed a water basin on the left, just infront of the left desk, and he frowned at it.  _A water basin? What use is there for that on a ship?_

 _Don't be a hypocrite. You're the one with an aquarium._  He sighed, deciding that the insanities of the Normandy were nothing to be surprised of at this point, and focused his gaze back on Javik, who remained stoic.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "So...how do you want to start this Javik? I know its been fifty thousand years, and there's alot to fill in."

Liara nodded, "Quite alot has happened since the last cycle."

Javik continued to ignore them, and Marcus, deciding he needed to get the prothean's question, asked a more direct question, "You're not going to be a problem, are you?"

This finally caught his attention, and he fixed the captain with a venomous glare...or so he assumed it was; it looked menacing enough, and the prothean was quite intimidating. His six eyes opened and closed all at once, and then he was standing up, eyes never leaving his. When he was standing at his full height, Marcus noticed he was only slightly larger than him, and it was barely noticable; but he almost towered over Liara. He looked at Marcus for a few moments, before breaking the pregnant silence, voice devoid of emotion, "That depends on you," and before he knew it, the prothean lashed out, hands gripping Marcus' arms as he felt memories, both of his own and Javik's, flash through his mind.

"I can sense fear in you," the prothean declared, opening his eyes to meet Marcus' once more, "Anxiety and distress. The Reapers are winning," but then he seemed to lose his disgusted gaze, lips creasing in impression, "But you are holding out; batting down the fear, replacing it with determination. You are ready to give yourself to destroy the Reapers; this is good. This is the foundation of a warrior."

Then he let go of him, and Marcus took a step back, shaking his head and scrunching his eyes shut, before opening them, feeling slightly dizzy after that invasion of his mind. He glared at the prothean, but kept his anger in check at the intrusion, "What do you mean 'you sense?' That's twice you've invaded my mind."

"All life leaves clues for those who can read them," Javik explained, turning away as he walked over to the water basin, seemingly attracted by it as he braced against its edge, looking at his reflection in the still water, "It is in your cells, your DNA. Experience is a biological marker."

Marcus and Liara shared a glance, both of them intrigued by this information, and he suddenly turned back towards the ancient soldier, voice speaking his next question before his mind thought about it, "And just what was that I experienced on Eden Prime? Because that was one hell of a flashback."

"Eden Prime? That is what you call this planet now? During my cycle, it was called Olos Trak; it was one of our mining colonies. But I digress," the prothean shook his head, before nodding lightly, "The battle left its own mark on me; I communicated this to you when I touched you. It can work both ways however. When I touch you, I can sense your memories, your emotions, your immune system. But as this occurs, you sense the same, and the transfer becomes mutual."

"Like your beacons?" Liara asked suddenly, "They seemed to react to touch as well."

"Yes," Javik stated after some hesitation, as if surprised by the question, and he turned around completely, walking over until he stood half a meter from them. Then, again, he touched Marcus, grabbing his left arm, and suddenly Marcus watched the vision of the beacon flash through his mind once more, conjuring memories from three years ago; people dying, Reaper airhorns, images of Ilos, and a Reaper in the circumfrance of a planet; the prothean warning. Suddenly, the prothean let go, and he backed away. For the first time since he arrived on the Normandy, he was surprised once more, "...you found one. You saw it all - our destruction, our warnings..." suddenly his face creased in fury, grabbing Marcus by the collar and pulling him forward so he could yell in his face, " _ **Why were they not heeded!? Why didn't you prepare for the Reapers, human!?**_ "

Marcus growled back, swatting the prothean's arm aside with his other arm, "Its 'Captain,'  _prothean_ ," he responded, deciding to fight fire with fire, "And nobody could understand your warnings. The beacon nearly killed me," he waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, "There was also these three fuckwits we call a Council, but they merely an extension of our unpreparedness. You can blame them if you wish."

Javik shook his head, some of the fury gone from his eyes, but he was still agitated as he began pacing. He snorted suddenly, looking unimpressed with what he was told, "Then communication is still primitive in this cycle."

Marcus rolled his eyes.  _You know, this guy is a real condescending prick. Were all protheans like this? Egotistical douchebags?_ Marcus quickly came to his defense, not that he needed to, hands clasped behind his back, "We pieced together what we could. Because of that, we were able to stop a Reaper invasion three years ago."

The prothean merely shrugged, "Then your extinction was only delayed."

Marcus didn't even answer that one, only giving him a steely, stoic stare. As if the moment was about to get too tense for her to handle, Liara stepped between them, moving over to the vidscreen hanging over them, "Now we have your species plans for the superweapon they were building," an image of the weapon came up on screen, a design image of it rotating on the holographic display, "We're going to build it," she looked at him, crossing her eyebrows in determination, "And we're going to destroy them. We're going to stop the Reapers, once and for all."

Javik, was once again surprised, and Marcus saw confusion on his face as he looked at Liara, meeting her kinder eyes, "Superweapon?"

Liara seemed to stutter then, taken aback by his confusion, "The weapon your people were working-we'd hoped you could tell us how to finish it. Its missing a key component, and its why your people weren't able to finish the weapon in time."

Javik looked over the designs, and simply sighed, shaking his head, "My men only heard rumors of its existence; it was a well kept secret among our people. All we know is that every resource was being pulled into it, while our worlds kept falling, one by one. In the end, my people were destroyed anyway, and it was never completed."

Marcus, growing weary of this, decided to get to the point, "Then you don't know anything about the Catalyst?"

After a moment of pondering, the prothean turned to look at him, and he swore he saw an almost sympathetic gaze, "No. I was a soldier, not a scientist," he turned away, leaning against the basin once more, "Skilled in one art: killing."

Liara, interest still peaked despite the prothean's hostile attitude, poked with more questions, "What was your mission? Why were you buried down there in that pod?"

Javik took a second to collect himself before answering, "Among my people, there were...avatars...of my many traits: bravery, strength, cunning. A single exemplar for each."

Marcus frowned, nodding along, "And which one are you?"

Javik's voice took on a dark tone, "The embodiment of vengeance. I am the anger of a dead people, demanding blood be spilled for the blood we lost," he gripped the table with a vice-like grip, one uncanny for a person with only three-fingers, "Only when the last Reaper is destroyed will my purpose be fullfilled. I have no other reason to exist," he turned around, meeting Marcus' glare with his own, "Those who share my purpose become allies. Those who do not," his eyes narrowed dangerously, "Become casualties."

Marcus nodded, "While nothing in our fight against the Reapers currently has been that cut and dried, I can understand what you mean; those who stand in the way of what I'm trying to do have become casualties; will become casualties," he breathed in, nodding as he did, "That being said, that doesn't mean I'll dumb myself down to pure, cold-blooded murder to get what I want. Only when its necessary."

Javik shook his head, scoffing, "Because you still have hope that this war will end with your honor intact," he slammed a fist into his basin, and turned back to them, canines bared as he growled, "Stand in the ashes of a  _trillion souls,_ and ask the ghosts if honor matters," Marcus simply stood there, not answering, and Javik nodded, turning away, "The silence is your answer."

Before Marcus could verbally lash out at the prothean, Liara spoke once more, drawing their attention to her, "And just what is that, hovering above your desk?"

Seeing her pointing at the hovering object he had seen before, Javik turned towards it, face emotionless, "That is a memory shard; known as an Echo Shard among my people."

Liara nodded ecstatically, "Could it help us with the device?"

And for the first time since Marcus saw him, he saw a brief twinge of pain, melancholy and fear in the prothean's eyes, before it was mixed away, eyes becoming uncaring once more, "No. It contains only pain," he turned towards Marcus with renewed vigor, teeth bared once more, "But I  _will_ help you fight. And the last thing the Reapers hear before they die, will be the last voice of the Protheans sending them to their grave."

Just as Javik turned back to his desk, obviously believing his words as a goodbye to them, Liara spoke once more, hurrying over to him, her hands wringing in an endearing way that reminded Marcus of Tali, "If you don't mind...I have a few more questions I'd like to ask."

If Marcus were Javik, he'd be sighing, rolling his eyes or groaning at this point at the idea of further interrogation by the asari, but he simply turned around, eyes meeting hers without emotion, and he made no response. Seeing his silence as a urge to continue, Liara began pacing, becoming the excited asari archaelogist he remembered rescuing on Therum all those years ago, "I've written over a dozen studies on your species. I've published several journals-"

The prothean, seemingly ignoring her, turned to Marcus, crossing his arms and looking meekly surprised, "Amusing. The asari have finally mastered writing."

Liara, her excited daze broken, suddenly stopped, hands falling to her sides as if disappointed, and eying him with a careful gaze, "Sorry?"

Javik shook his head, leaning against the basin behind him, "Nevermind. Be quick with your questions; I have much to ponder on about this cycle."

Liara, seeing it was a challenge, spouted her first question, "Well, what about this sensory ability you have? Its amazing. None of the current species have your kind of abilities."

"We evolved with it," Javik summarized, "We evolved as hunters; reading a thousand details in our environment ensured our survival. As we became more civilized, we transferred this ability and shaped our technology around it. We developed weapons that only reacted to the DNA of ourselves, beacons that could hold thoughts and memories, like a database, and complex ideas could be transferred to another in seconds. It made education much simpler; we were able to teach a child everything it needed to know with a single touch."

"Interesting," Marcus noted, suddenly interested, "What about this room? Could you read into it?"

The prothean nodded, and crouched on the floor, his hand touching it as he closed his eyes. After a moment, he stood up again, eyes opening, and leaning back against the basin, "There was...liquid. A form of incubation. The DNA of a...krogan?" he seemed interested by this, but continued nonetheless, "The DNA of a krogan who...lived here. He was powerful, prone to violence. He had a confrontation with a human in this room," he turned to Marcus, "Ah...the human was you."

Marcus nodded, impressed, "Yes...you're talking about Grunt. He used to be a part of my crew; I had to release him from a tank we had found him in, which is where the liquid came from. He didn't know who I was, so we had a confrontation until I could calm him down. I had to 'impress him' first."

"Krogan are hard to impress. It says alot about your character," Javik complimented, but quickly continued, "And if he were my enemy, I'd have given him a wide berth. There is great strength in his genes," Javik almost seemed impressed, something along the lines of a small grin crossing his face before evaporating.

"What was prothean civilization like?" Liara hurriedly asked, eager to move on, "I've always wondered! What sort of government did you have? Was it like our Council; did all the races work alongside you? And what were your religious beliefs? Or perhaps-"

Javik once again interrupted her. Verbally, "I do not know what my civilization was like. But what does it matter? We are dead now. What we once were is inconsequential."

"I apologize," Liara stated, shaking her head, "But your history has always been a lifelong passion of mine. So I was wondering...what was it like?"

"As I said, I would not know," he stated simply, shrugging, "When I was born, the Empire was already at war with the Reapers. I was born on our homeworld, Malontor. When I was born, the first thing I saw was my world on fire."

Shocked by the sudden information, Marcus took up after the stunned Liara, and spoke the question she did not utter, "What was prothean civilization like  _before_ the Reaper invasion?"

"Do you not listen, human?" Javik asked, shaking his head, seemingly annoyed by the repeated question, "I do not know. However, I can tell you were the dominant species in our cycle. We ruled the galaxy, and everyone bowed to our will; the Empire was galactic society at its highest peak."

Liara, recovering from her shock, added her own two cents worth, "My studies indicated you were the only race engaged in space travel at the time. I always found that curious," she frowned, "But what you just said insinuates there were others?"

"We were one empire, composed of many subjects. The Empire was the core of everything," Javik explained, taking pride in his words, "The Densorin were one species among many, along with the Oravores, Ditakur, Enduromi, the Synril and the Vandomar. In the end, all of them came to call themselves Prothean. Some had to be persuaded, others had to be crushed. But in the end, they accepted our rule."

"And what if they didn't wish to be part of this Empire?" Marcus asked, clearly not going to like the answer.

"They didn't have a choice," was Javik's blunt answer.

Marcus narrowed his eyes confrontationally, "Are you saying you enslaved the other species?"

Javik shook his head, "Any could have opposed us if they wished. And if they had won, they would have ruled. Many tried. None succeeded. The Empire was too vast, too strong, too numerous. We rained supreme. Our fleets were powerful, and our soldiers were disciplined warriors," he seemed to be indulging in what he would call 'nostalgia.' Not that Marcus would call it that.

"I had no idea protheans were so...severe," Liara stated, seemingly losing the awe she had and dropping into slight loathing.

"It was by necessity," the prothean justified, "Very early we encountered the dangers posed by machine intelligence; what you would call artificial intelligence. They rebelled against us."

Javik's words immediately brought an epiphany, "That sounds alot like what happened between the quarians and the geth."

Javik frowned at him, "The quarians?" he frowned even further, "And what are these geth?"

"The machines the quarians created. They rebelled against the quarians as well," his voice became melancholy, "The masters did not win. Now they wander the stars in the Migrant Fleet, and the geth rule their homeworld, although I'm currently trying to bring peace between them so I can count on them as allies to fight against the Reapers."

"Then the quarians got what they deserved. You must never meddle with machine intelligence. My people learnt that the hard way," he shook his head, "In the end, the machines, the ones we called the Zha'til, rebelled against the Empire and had to be dealt with; another race, called the Zha, were dying of a disease we had introduced to their world, and attempted to adapt by augmenting themselves with machine intelligence; this had the opposite effect, and the technology seized control of their bodies, and transformed them like  
Reapers transform us into husks. Soon, the Zha were extinct, and in their were the Zha'til; and they quickly rose against us, seeking to destroy all organic life they could find," he stopped for a second, pondering, "It is by now, that I believe the Reapers were involved in some way with their motives. That the Zha'til were indoctrinated. But I cannot prove it; not that it matters anymore. What does matter is that the Empire united its citizens and urged them to fight; we triumphed, and we utterly destroyed the Zha'til. They attempted to regroup, but we managed to detonate a dark energy bomb in their home system's sun, causing to supernova. We ended the Zha's misery, and ended our enemy."

"To this day, it was known as the Metacon War," he snarled, suddenly remembering something, "Then, when the Reapers arrived, they rebirthed the Zha'til, and used them against us, along with the separatists, much like they use Cerberus against you. It was then our Empire learned one crucial fact; that machines had surpassed us eons ago, and in ways...we couldn't possibly imagine. The Reapers were the embodiment of machine evolution, as far as we saw it. Of what machines could become, if left unhinged."

"What was with the pods down in that facility?" Marcus asked, changing the subject to something less...gritty, "There had to be thousands of them, but you were the only one left."

"The Empire had fallen, and we knew our cycle was lost," Javik explained, nodding to his own words, "I was to lead a final vanguard; one million of our finest soldiers, all under my command."

"More protheans were meant to have survived into this cycle?" Liara asked, worried by that.

"Yes," he answered with long lost impression, "Under my leadership, the Empire would have been reborn. We would have evolved your races and used you to finish our weapon. You would all be trained in war, and all of you would fight alongside us, uplifted for war. We would have led the races of this galaxy to repel the Reaper invasion; and this time, we would have had fifty thousand years to prepare. But indoctrinated agents - traitors - betrayed us, and the Reapers discovered our plan; by the time we finally went into stasis, only four hundred thousand of us were left. Only a quarter of our original force."

"If your plan had worked," Marcus asked, curious, "How would you have 'uplifted' us?"

"By leaving you no other option," he stated simply, "You would have joined our army - or faced the Reapers alone."

It was Marcus' turn to deliver the questions, "What about the Prothean ruins on Mars? Were you observing my people's ancestors?"

Javik nodded, "Before the war, we cultivated species who showed potential," the prothean elaborated, "Eventually, you would have been offered a 'choice' to join the Empire. But when the Reapers attacked, we ceased all study. We had hoped the Reapers would see your species has too primitive to harvest," he nodded, "They did. It seems the Reapers only focus on the species capable of spaceflight and have evolved along their guidelines; any species that has not achieved the technological level to be perceived as a threat, are ignored and harvested in the next cycle."

"That explains why the Reapers are completely ignoring Turvess and Parnack," Liara explained to Marcus, "The yahg and raloi haven't achieved spaceflight yet."

"Hard to imagine the yahg running the next cycle," Marcus chuckled, finding some humor in the idea. Or would the raloi?

"Is this line of questioning over?" Javik asked suddenly, "I have much to think about, and I believe you are armoured up for something."

Marcus nodded, suddenly remembering why he was here, "Yes, that reminds me. I came down here to secure your allegiance Javik; but since I have that, then all I need to tell you is to get some rest and be ready for tomorrow."

Liara turned to him, worry on her face, "Tomorrow? What's happening tomorrow?"

Marcus responded quickly, having already formed the plan in his head, "I've sent a message out to Zaeed to ask him to rendevous in the Asgard System. I've also sent a message to Sayn and Aria, asking them to bring the Eclipse and Blood Pack along with them. And Hackett should be getting back to me soon on that request for Alliance reinforcement."

"You're bringing the three mercenary groups together?" she asked, incredulous, "What possibly for?"

"Cerberus cannot be allowed to keep its hold on Eden Prime," he stated simply, "We're going to take it back, and we're going to need help."

"A foolish decision," Javik piped, bringing their attention back to him, "During my cycle, we sacrifice planet after planet to stop the Reapers; you should be willing to do the same. Do not waste soldiers and resources on retaking one planet that will likely fall the next day."

"Cerberus cannot be allowed to hold Eden Prime. They already have a tactical advantage, holding Omega in the Terminus Systems," he added, shaking his head, "Holding Eden Prime would give them an unimpeded striking point from the Exodus Cluster, especially if the Reapers are using them. We need to strike hard, and show the Illusive Man he is not invincible. Show him he can be beaten. We can take back this colony from him, and deprive him of the one thing he needs; a launching point for attacks on the Citadel. And I just know that's what he wants the planet for. No, we could deal a big blow to Cerberus tomorrow. We need Eden Prime. And with Colony New Hope back in our grasp, we only need to take out that destroyer to have our FOB," he explained to the prothean. Shortly after waking him, the rest of the Cerberus battalion holding the colony detachment had attacked en masse, hoping to drive the would-be liberators out. Javik proved to be an asset to the team; with the colonists coordinating with them, they not only defeated the battalion, but completely annihilated it; Colony New Hope was back in their hands. And from what Liara's information let out, Cerberus was using Colony Ohio as a staging area; they hadn't managed to deploy troops to take the other colonies yet. If they were lucky, they could sever the head of the invasion before it can spread; but they had to take Colony Ohio, and the only way they could do that was a mass ground attack; which relied on driving away the Cerberus fleet. Which is why they desperately needed Alliance support.

Before Javik could respond, Samantha's voice came over the comm, "Captain, you have Admiral Hackett contacting you over the comm. Says he wishes to speak to you about something important."

Another voice came over the comm before he could answer, "Hey! That's my job!"

"Um...since when?" Samantha asked.

Kelly's response was immediate, "Since I became a member of his crew a  _year_ ago! Where were you? I've always been this ship's yeoman!"

"Now now ladies, don't fight," Marcus tried to calm them down, grinning from ear to ear.  _Of all the things to argue over, they're arguing over who gets to inform me of_ _ **incoming messages.**_ _Hell, EDI could do that. Why do they need to argue over it?_ "It doesn't matter who tells me, only that I get the messages. Okay?"

"Human bickering over trivial matters," Javik pondered, "We observed this even during our cycle. I see things have not changed. I do hope you humans are not part of this Council you speak of."

"They are," Liara responded, "Along with my people, the turians and the salarians."

"The salarians?" Javik asked, surprised once more, "The lizard people  _evolved_?"

"Actually, last I checked, they were amphibian," Liara corrected, glaring at him.

Javik seemed to analyze her for a second, eyes glazing over, before he simply said, "They used to eat flies."

With the image of Mordin plucking flies out of the air with his tongue now stuck in his mind, Marcus turned from the prothean, cringing, "Inform Hackett I'll be right there."

And he hastily made his exit before the prothean could inform him of any other cringe worthy things.

So far, the meeting with the last prothean had been somewhat of a disappointment. But very enlightening.

**{Loading...}**

_June 6, 2186_

_1329 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Outskirts of Asgard System, Docked with MSV Sidestep._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, Captain Palisus._

A day had passed, and so far, everything was going well. With the munitions supplied to them by the crew of the Normandy, the colonists were successful in holding off any Cerberus attempts to retake New Hope, which meant they still had their staging base; in little over an hour, his makeshift fleet would plow through the relay and deploy their forces on Eden Prime, before bugging out.

Marcus solidified his grip on the war room table before him, and looked up, eying everyone in the room. Liara was whispering silently with Samantha, who seemed to both get along very well, and he even saw Traynor smile; it was gentle, but filled with mirth. Keeling seemed to be entertaining James as he went on a rant about how useless heavy rifles were compared to light machine guns like his Revenant, and she didn't seem to talk or move until he stopped and she was able to respond; to which she ripped apart his argument. Kasumi and Garrus traded remarks and banter, while Javik seemed to stand right next to Marcus, hands clasped behind his back, and eying a certain person very hesitantly...the feeling was mutual.

Zaeed stood on the other side, leaning over the table as he examined the prothean, his new second-in-command, a turian named Palisus, standing beside him, Saber assault rifle on his back and holstered, arms in a relaxed pose as he wore his gleaming Blue Suns armor. Zaeed snorted, breaking the silence, "Just what the fuck am I looking at, Shepard?"

"The last of the protheans, human," Javik growled back, clearly not liking the mercenary's attitude, "An avatar of vengeance."

"A prothean?" he turned to Marcus, shaking his head with a grin, "You've fucking done it again, you goddam bastard."

"Done what?" Marcus asked, frowning with a smirk, "And you believe he's prothean? Just like that? Not a pretender?"

Zaeed snorted, standing up fully as he crossed his arms, "You don't fuck around, Shepard. You came back from the fucking dead, and led us through that goddam Omega 4 Relay. Seeing you with your own prothean," he pointed at Javik, "Does not surprise one fucking bit."

"I am not his prothean, primitive," Javik snapped, "You will not refer to me as so."

"He's a bit of a shit, though," Zaeed noted.

"His name is Javik, Zaeed," Marcus explained, "I think he prefers being called by name."

"Don't we all? The bastard doesn't hold a fucking monopoly on that, Shepard," Zaeed growled back, shaking his head, "Whatever, I don't fucking care. He's the last prothean, his name is goddam Javik, and that's about all I'm interested in. Hopefully the rest will bloody well show up soon so that we can-"

They all turned as the doors to the War Room slid open, and the familiar form of a salarian wearing Eclipse armor moved inside, Sayn taking his place on Palisus' left. They heard a loud snarling as Kreete was led in by Bray, the vorcha reluctantly coming to stand in front of Liara and Traynor, with Bray behind him to keep him in check, and finally, Aria walked in.

"Well well Shepard, I do like your ship," Aria mused as she walked down the steps with grace towards them, "It isn't filled with buearacratic shit stains like that on the Citadel, and it doesn't have the loud fucking idiots of Omega. I'd take it for my ship, if I didn't love Omega so much."

He shook his head as the asari ruler of the Terminus Systems came to push Palisus aside, procuring her stance next to Zaeed, who merely grunted at her attempts to garner his attention. Aria merely laughed, turning back to Marcus. Suddenly, Sayn spoke up, his voice full of confusion.

"Ah...Commander Shepard, could you please explain to me what  _that_ is? Some kind of experiment?" the salarian pointed at Javik, and as Marcus sighed, Kreete, Bray and Aria were suddenly looking at the prothean, eyes widening.

"What the fuck?" Aria cursed, "I wasn't aware this was a contest to see who's the ugliest piece of shit in the galaxy; otherwise I wouldn't have turned up."

"Vorcha? A batarian?" Javik muttered, shaking his head, "This cycle is full of surprises."

"Everybody calm down," Marcus reassured, standing up as he held his hands up, signalling everyone to stay down, "This is Javik...we dug up his pod on Eden Prime. He is the last of the prothean species...a soldier. He's their sole survivor, for all we know."

"A prothean?" Aria questioned, turning to him with disgust in her features, "The way the Council fucking talked about it, you'd think you were gods or something. You just look like a fucking bug to me; what a disappointment. I expected you to be slighlty more attractive too; consider that a tick off my list, too."

"Asari," Javik mouthed, completely unfazed by Aria's insults, "I remember your species when the Oravores invaded your world, and my people stopped them. You believed it was an act of the 'goddess'," he seemed to be amused by this, "Your species was primitive then, and I see not much has changed except technology."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Aria spat, "How fucking dare you!" She brimmed with biotic fury, "Fuck you, you oversized insect!"

He felt cold on his back as Javik brimmed with his own, unique biotic abilities, body wrapped in green instead of the traditional blue of biotics in their cycle, "I see the asari have finally discovered and mastered their biotics; good. But it seems your tolerance has gotten no better; you cannot even take an insult without crippling."

"Enough, both of you!" Marcus snapped, slamming his hand on the table, bringing his own biotics to bare, "Or I will toss  _both_ of you out an airlock, and you can settle this shit there!"

Aria laughed, turning her glare towards him, letting her body glow even more, "Are you threatening me, Shepard?"

Marcus remained unfazed, merely staring back at her with a steely expression; he was in Commander Shepard mode, and when he was like this, he was exactly what people believed him to be; unfazable, unstoppable fury encased in a human body, and a gaze that could melt most people instantly; not Aria though.

To everyone's surprise, Zaeed responded, "Just shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch," he snarled, quickly becoming the destination of Aria's hate train as her glare switched to him, "You could intimidate alliance sergeants, maybe. But this is fucking Shepard, you moron. He'll be using your ass to scrub floors once he's done sorting you out," he turned to Marcus, grinning, "I should know. He did the same shit to me on Zorya, a year ago."

Marcus nodded his appreciation, and turned towards Aria, who remained ficiously glaring at Zaeed, "Are we clear Aria? We're not on Omega anymore; on this ship,  _I_ reign. And there's only one rule we follow; fuck with me, or my crew, and I toss  _you_ out the nearest airlock?" His voice became a growl, accentuating every word, "Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

"Fuck you," Aria spat at him, but suddenly her biotics dimmed to nothing, and he felt Javik relax, his own biotics deterring to nothing, "And fine. We'll play it your way. As long as we find out just why the fuck we are here. It took me far too much time getting this fucking idiot," he jabbed a thumb at Kreete, who seemed unaware he was the topic of discussion, "to even listen to me. Get jabbering on about how 'only Shepard will order me!' and I had to tell him, 'Well he's fucking ordered you!'" She seemed to growl at this last bit, and Kreete, finally taking notice, turned to Shepard, nodding almost spastically.

"Yes yes! Kreete loyal!" the vorcha spat, overly excited at the prospect of Marcus' approval of his actions, "Did no betrayal! Kreete good! Aria not enough to break Kreete's loyalty!"

"I'm...honored, Kreete," Marcus said hesitantly, rolling his eyes mentally.  _Maybe making Kreete leader of the Blood Pack wasn't just a good idea, even if its only a de facto command. But having a dumb moron is good; makes the Blood Pack easier to control, and Aria can yank the strings. Just as long as she doesn't snap those strings._ He gave a weary glance in Aria's direction, but before he could begin the briefing Javik, again, spoke, obviously having examined Kreete in detail.

"My people always saw your race as pathetically stupid. You were easy to use as cannon fodder, and disposing of your populace, should it rebel, was easy, as you had the brillance to have your entire nest out in the open," the prothean dictated, having a sarcastic tone in his voice, "But your hordes make you stronger; you can overwhelm your enemy with sheer numbers. However, vorcha, I do believe you are weak. Why does this one lead? He is beyond moronic."

Deciding he wouldn't announce to Javik that Kreete was a puppet, Marcus ignored the quip and decided to get on with the briefing before Javik chose to insult someone else.  _One day on the ship, and he's already getting on everybody's nerves._ He remembered when Javik had actually entered his quarters without permission while he was showering, and he quickly covered himself up as the prothean requested to know why the captain had such quarters. He replied that he didn't know, and Javik merely snorted and left. He hadn't been very tolerable towards the prothean after that, especially not after he threatened to kill Kasumi, and would have had Garrus not disarmed him. He had justified afterwards that 'theft meant instant death in the Empire,' and that their society was, 'devoid of morals to tolerate it.' Ever since then, Kasumi had not taken kindly to the soldier.  _He's a pain in the ass, but we need him. Besides, I guess its still quite the shock that he isn't quite the 'wise, old sage' we built protheans up to be; his people were tyrants, fascists and military dictators, and he has known nothing but intolerance, hatred and death._

He turned to those assembled with a nod of his head, "Most of you are wondering why you are here; I understand I summoned your presence on short notice, but this couldn't wait. This is going to be our first major offensive on this front against Cerberus, and I needed to pool in all the resources I could muster for this one."

Aria nodded, "But why the fuck are we here? What is this offensive?"

"Maybe, you fucking bitch, if you let the goddam man talk, he'd goddam tell you!" Zaeed hissed, and the asari immediately fell silent, apparently getting the hint that insults wrre pointless with the bounty hunter, and merely waited for Marcus to continue. He did so, moving over to the other side of the map as EDI, on cue, brought up a holo representation of Eden Prime, rotating slowly, and holograms of the Cerberus fleet, all in perfect formation with their dreadnought in the middle, in orbit. He leaned against the table near Victus' station, the Primarch currently in the Mess Hall eating.

"Eden Prime is our target. It has recently been attacked and occupied by Cerberus troops, their original target being the last prothean, who clearly stands before you now," he motioned to Javik, before continuing, "Suffice to say, we stole what Cerberus was looking for right from under them; but a day later, and their static presence, proves a point I've known for a bit now; Cerberus is here to stay and continues to occupy Eden Prime. The rebels on the planet currently hold Colony New Hope, and are holding off Cerberus for now, but there is only so much we can do. We're going to relieve them," he paused, waiting for his words to take affect, "And then we're taking the planet back."

"Are you fucking serious?" Aria snapped, motioning to the holo fleet, "We're mercenaries; the best these idiots can muster are a few lack-lusterly armed freighters; they've got warships. A dreadnought, and a carrier, if I can see right. An entire battle fleet, and we're supposed to engage the fucking thing? And what about the assholes on the ground, hmm? We meant to take on an entire Cerberus army, too?"

"You think I haven't figured that out Aria? Quit running your mouth, and I'll get to that," without waiting for a response, he turned and the holo loaded animations of an Alliance fleet jumping coming into view, stopping, and then firing at the Cerberus fleet from afar, "Hackett has promised me the Sixth Fleet, under Fleet Admiral Osamu Nakamura, but that's all he can spare and risk. They will 'snipe' the Cerberus ships from afar, and hopefully draw them out," he trailed off, the animation showing a few red explosions around the Cerberus fleet, also showing their retaliation as they turned to race towards their enemy, who began to back off, "And hopefully lure Cerberus into pursuit," the Alliance fleet disappeared, and the Cerberus fleet quickly did as well, leaving nothing to protect the planet, "With the Cerberus naval force distracted, our freighters will jump the relay and make best speed for Eden Prime; once we're there, our full force will deploy in New Hope, and from there, we will launch an offensive against Colony Ohio," the holo zoomed in fully, and the holographic terrain of Eden Prime appeared, a detail view of the battlefield, and even giving exact measurements; Colony New Hope was shown in the middle of a grass field, while Ohio was shown to be across from a few mountains.

"Ohio is the endgame for Cerberus. That is where they ferry in their supplies, troops, munitions, and rations. Its also the only colony they now hold after losing New Hope. Likely, they are constructing a large enough army to launch further strikes across the planet," he pointed to Ohio, and a red line appeared from New Hope to Ohio, the line wiggling around the mountain side, over it, and straight into it, "This will be our line of march. We cannot risk an aerial insertion, as they will see us coming and blow our transports out of the sky; we need to be quick, quiet and efficient. The Normandy will provide orbital support when possible, and our forces should be able to encircle Ohio, and crush the Cerberus garrison," he circled his finger around Ohio, and blue, yellow and red arrows, all representing the different merc organizations, all converged around the colony from all directions, surrounding the white arrows, "My team will lead the assault, and using blitzkrieg tactics, we will domolish them. It can, and will be done."

Everyone nodded in succession, before Garrus spoke, voice clipped as he offered his opinion, "What about that destroyer hovering over New Hope? Will the Normandy take care of it?"

Marcus smiled, turning to EDI's robotic body.

"Jeff has insisted he answer that question."

Joker's voice came over the comm, "Three Javelin torpedoes loaded in their tubes, and ready to fire. That destroyer's shields are down, so the torpedoes will make short work of it. Consider the Tennessee dealt with."

"Why not the thanix cannon?" Liara asked quizzically.

Marcus shook his head, "On a destroyer? It'd be wasted, Liara. And if we wanted to, we couldn't; I saw what the thanix did to a Collector Cruiser, and it carved right through it. If that happened with the destroyer, it would leave New Hope a smoking crater, and kill everyone down below. No, torpedoes are safer."

"And the thanix's ionized particles could potentially contaminate the atmosphere," EDI added.

"That too. All taken into account, no thanix today," Marcus sighed, feeling sad he couldn't use the death machine of a weapon, but knew it was better saved for the Reapers.

Sayn spoke up, voice concerned, "Shepard, I understand your military, and a march to you is nothing. But we are talking a four kilometer march across rugged terrain, and we're mercenaries, every one of us. We are not trained to cope with these situations."

"Then start coping," was his quick response, "The Reapers aren't going to back off and let you take a breather; you need to be able to march, and run if need be. A four klick march is nothing, and to be able to get the jump on Cerberus, we need to hit them hard and fast before they know what we're up to. If they send reinforcements to New Hope, they will see us, and that'll be soon, so we must act quickly. Besides, I'm pretty sure you can take it."

Sayn nodded his consent, carefully eying the holo infront of him.

"A quick and decisive win with minimal casualties on our side, and maximum on theirs," a voice flanged from the top of the steps, "That is very turian, Captain. I'm impressed."

Marcus smiled as Victus descended the steps, but frowned when he saw the turian wasn't wearing his casual clothes, but rather his scarred battle armor, "Thank you, Primarch Victus. Although I don't see why you're wearing armor."

"I'm getting ready for battle," he stated, but seeing Marcus look, shook his head, "No, Captain, I will not stay hiding up in this ship; that is not a turian's duty. No, I will be down there in the thick of it, the way turians like it, and I will lead the force with you. You can't lead the entire force single-handedly, and you're going to need division commanders. I was an ArchGeneral in the turian military before I was Primarch; I can do it."

"I'm sure you are Primarch," Marcus addressed, "But I cannot lose you. You're too damn valuable to this alliance for you to die to some lucky Cerberus bastard. If you die, this krogan-turian alliance has no chance, and the war summit is over. I need the turians."

"And you will get them. I am not stupid captain, I know when to keep my head low, and when I need to sight down my rifle," he retorted, making sure his weapons were strapped to his back, "But I will be leading. I have not fought Cerberus yet, and I must know what kind of enemy they are. I might be sending turian soldiers to fight them in the near future."

"Very well Primarch," he stated, turning to his team, motioning for EDI to turn off the holo, "We'll deploy evenly; the Normandy will lead the charge, and will take care of that destroyer so you have a clear path to land; a shuttle will then deploy me and my squad into the colony. Javik, you'll be with us," he stated, turning to the asari ruler, "Aria, you'll be second freighter in and with your troops. Third will be Sayn and his Eclipse, followed by Zaeed and his Blue Suns, and then Kreete and his Blood Pack. Once on the ground, I will take command of the Blue Suns and Blood Pack, while Victus takes command of the Eclipse and Aria's men. We'll march in ordered columns; Blood Pack krogan up front, vorcha in reserve. Blue Suns in the middle, followed by Eclipse; Sayn, I want some YMIRs on the flanks. And if you can, some LOKIs," the salarian nodded, and he continued, "Aria's men will be evenly distributed, and my team will take the front in a Mako."

"We'll be getting armoured support?" Keeling asked, surprised.

"Courtesy of Mr. Massani," Marcus grinned, "We get four Makos, and no more. The other three Makos will be up the back, and mostly under Victus' command; but my team will be taking one Mako and leading. I will be driving," Liara and Garrus groaned, but he elected to ignore them, "YMIRs will cover the flanks, along with any LOKIs or FENRIS' the Eclipse can spare. Obviously, gunships are out of the question, so we'll make do with some anti-aircraft weaponry; yes Vega, you get to bring the Cobra," he heard the marine fist pump, and silently shook his head, "If that's all, we only need to wait for Nakamura's fleet to arrive. Any further questions?"

Aria raised her hand, suddenly polite and he sighed, nodding, "Yes?"

"I will not take orders from a Primarch," she growled, " _I_ rule myself, and I will not-"

"Noted. Victus," he turned to him, "Feel free to shoot her if she resists any commands," he turns back to his crew, Aria clearly incredulous, "Any helpful questions?"

Garrus simply snorted, and looked at him, "When can we start?"

Marcus smiled, turning to Traynor, "Samantha, please inform Joker to inform me when Nakamura enters the system."

"Yes captain," she replied, saluting before then skipping out of the room. He turned to the rest of them and nodded firmly.

"Everyone, dismissed."

**{Loading...}**

_June 6, 2186_

_1550 hours._

_The Peaks, Kethar Mountains, Colony Outskirts, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, Captain Palisus, Mercenary Leader Aria T'Loak, Eclipse Commander Sayn, Blood Pack Commander Kreete, Primarch Adrien Victus._

The Mako rumbled along as he continued to drive it forward, wheels kicking up gravel and grass and dirt as it padded along. It was a steep climb, but the Mako was designed to have tough grip on its tires, and be damned if the Alliance didn't lie; the Mako moved effortlessly up the hill, but at a slow pace, the engine roaring. Marcus was at the driver's seat, pushing along on the acellerator while his squad was sat in the back, James manning the turret. Behind them was a long column of mercenaries; a full regiment; four thousand men. Most of it was made up by the Blue Suns, as they were more of a private military contractor than the other mercenary companies, while Eclipse had smaller numbers due to their reliance on tech, and Blood Pack had krogan; nuff said, really.

They were making speed, considering. The Blue Suns, to their credit, trudged on, or though whether that was due to Zaeed yelling and calling them 'pussies' everytime they slowed down, or kicking them in the gut everytime they attempted to sit down, was probably a good motivator. Sayn was clearly exhausted, but kept on, and so did his men. Aria looked to be working up a sweat, but she wasn't going to show it, and she kicked her men into shape everytime they attempted to slow down. Victus looked almost unfazed, years of military experience honed into him and giving him a toleration for long marches. But the mercenaries felt safe knowing they had the hulking forms of YMIRs, the skulking forms of LOKIs, and the four-legged runners of FENRIS' protecting their flanks, and the three Makos on the rear. So far, Cerberus hadn't spotted them, and the mountains had covered their advance, leaving them undetected by any radar or scanners.

The plan had gone flawlessly; Cerberus had taken the bait, and their entire fleet was now engaging in a tag team with Nakamura's forces somewhere in the system, allowing the Normandy to move in. Joker had unloaded two torpedoes straight into the Tennessee's spine before it even knew what was happening, and the impact and caused the destroyer to break up and slam into the ground, luckily far away from the colony, but the crash had caused a tremor; suffice to say however, Cerberus were severely distracted by the crashing warship.

Their forces had deployed fast, and once assembled, had begun their march immediately. A full hour later, and they were eight minutes out from Ohio; well, sight wise anyway. Ohio was at least another five minutes.

He turned to look behind him. Garrus had left the Mako a while ago to go up a head, hoping to find a good position from which to sight down on Ohio and see what Cerberus was up to. This left Keeling, who was catching a quick nap in the back, James manning the turret, Javik numbly staring at one bulkhead, Kasumi also resting. Sitting next to him, in the engineer's seat, was Liara.

Marcus sighed inwardly, annoyed at the idea of Liara being in the engineer's seat for some reason. Maybe it was due to her lack of engineering expertise, or simply because he had associated the seat as 'Tali's seat' a while ago, and he felt that Liara was killing that status quo. Thoughts of Tali distracted him, but he quickly recovered and concentrated on driving.  _You're going to have to release this stress soon; her absence is practically killing me, and I can't be falling apart in the middle of a battle. Tali, wherever you are, know I hold you in my heart...I will find you, if you don't find me first. Just...where are you? Why won't you talk to me?_

The march soon brought them to the top of the mountains, where he brought the Mako to a halt, and motioned for the army to stop. Moving inside, he motioned for James to wake Keeling and Kasumi up, before leaping back out, and running over to Garrus' position, who had given him the navpoint to it only a moment ago. He jogged over, finding the turian prone and wedged between two rocks in a well hidden position as he viewed down his scope, looking down at the colony below. He didn't even seem to notice Marcus approaching him until the N7 was prone next to him as well, looking over his shoulder.

"See much?" Marcus whispered in his ear, and the turian simply nodded, making no sound, and continued to watch, rotating the rifle ever so slightly to cover the area. There was a click of his mandibles as they moved together, and finally he spoke.

"Take a look for yourself," he replied, moving his head slightly to look at him, "Better if you see this for yourself."

Seeing the turian positioning the sniper rifle for him to look through, Marcus shook his head, reaching into a pouch on his armor and pulling out a pair of binoculars, grinning, "I've always wanted to use these. Never got the chance," he raised them to his eyes, and instantly felt his vision enhanced as it look into the distance, and he tapped a icon on the side, and watched it rapidly zoom in, and the features of Ohio came closer.

Marcus saw that the features of the colony hadn't changed alot since his last visit; unlike some of the other developed colonies, this one had no foundations for a floor, so there was just dirt and tall strands of grass, split up by haphazardly placed bunkers, portables and buildings. A large tower stood over them, and aside from that building, the main hall was the largest building in the colony. The other buildings were just ordinary; milky white, mixed with tinges of grey and silver. GARDIAN anti-ship guns were placed over the colony; a remnant of the Alliance attempts to protect the planet from Collector attacks a year ago; before his team sent the bugs straight to hell. But the colony wasn't empty.

No civilian life existed, that much was obvious; they had either been expelled from Ohio, or murdered when Cerberus took the colony, but either way, it was devoid of any innocent life, which would make their assault easier; no innocents to account for. His eyes travelled over the colony however, and saw that, just like New Hope, there was a fully stationed battalion serving as the garrison, along with numerous teams of builders who seemed to be building fortified walls around the colony; they were nowhere near completion, and it meant their attack would completely pass them. Then his eyes fell on the troop arrangement.

Three Atlases patrolled the colony, with one guarding the wall in a stationary position, currently unmanned, its owner being an assault trooper, helmet off, husk-like face revealed and a cigarette in their mouth, wuffing on it. The other two mechs moved along the colony heartland, moving slowly and steadily, ground shaking with every step.

Numerous combat engineers were in the colony, along with untold numbers of squads of assault troopers, with a single centurion commanding a single one of those squads, a fireteam of dragoons, and possibly more, a few phalanxes of guardian shielded infantry, and Marcus could see a few Nemesis' positioned on the rooftops, scanning the distance; they would have to go first, preferrably silently. But then his eyes landed on a very peculiar type of soldier he hadn't seen before. Like the Nemesis', they seemed to be entirely female, with curvaceous body outlines, light or prominent breasts, all wrapped in a skin-tight, armoured outfit, with the same full-head, glowing red eyed helmets that the other Cerberus soldiers had. Unlike the others however, these ones had katanas strapped to their backs; mocular blades wrapped in metal sheathes, capable of tearing through armor like paper. "Those the bogies you were referring to?"

Garrus nodded, "Sure are. No idea what they are, and why Cerberus gave them swords, but I don't think we should try and get into a hand-to-hand fight with them; won't end well for us. I can take them out from a distance...silenced, of course."

"No. Too risky; Cerberus would discover the bodies before they spotted our forces charging on the horizon," he shook his head, "No, silence your sniper rifle, and take care of those snipers; our assault loses momentum if they have already spotted our troops coming from a distance and have time to form up and defend themselves."

"Fine then," Garrus stated, turning from his sniper rifle to fix a silencer on the end as he looked at his friend, "So what's the plan for this attack? We're five minutes out."

"Victus will take his men and attack from the east," he pointed off to the right, "He will initiate a charge, and converge on them; his forces will get the Makos, which will cover the charge with an artillery barrage. I'll take my men and assault from the west," he motioned to the west, where there was less open land to charge from, "Our squad will lead the charge in our Mako, racing ahead, and the rest of the troops will follow up behind. We will breach the walls from both sides, squeeze the life out of the enemy, and take back Ohio. By the time the Cerberus fleet returns, we'll be too dug in for them to root out, and they'll have to give up the planet, especially if they think Alliance reinforcements are inbound."

"Well, let's liberate Eden Prime then," Garrus snarkily stated, grinning, "I'll make sure those snipers don't ruin the exhiliration."

When Marcus got back, he conversed with the division commanders, and so the split occured. Victus gave him a nod before yelling for his troops to follow behind him, and a great deal of tension had been released; the exhaustion had caused old rivalries between the groups to rise up, and splitting them had been a good idea; Eclipse marched off behind Victus, taking all eight of their YMIRs, all thirty LOKIs, and two of the FENRIS', while the rest stayed with Marcus' troops. Aria's men followed behind, transported by the three Makos. Once gone, Marcus took the Blood Pack and Blue Suns along with the final Mako, and marched off west. It didn't take them long to get into position, and they all formed a standard battle line; it reminded him of the American Civil War, of lines of men with muskets firing at each other; but this would be a charge, not standard engagement. But he still felt like a general, all the same.

Zaeed approached him just before the charge, stopping him before he entered the Mako. Garrus had informed him that all the snipers were eliminated, and Cerberus was none the wiser; he just had to charge. All looked good.

Zaeed sighed, scratching his face, fingernails scratching at one of his many scars, "This is fucking crazy, Shepard," he mused, grinning, "If our men even reach the walls, they'll be in for a fight; Cerberus are disciplined, mercenaries are not. This could fail in so many goddam ways. But with you in command, I think we'll succeed and kill these little bitches."

Marcus only smiled, reaching his hand out and gripping the man's shoulder, "This is the first of many battles, Zaeed. And I won't be around for many of them; these mercenaries need to be ready, and Cerberus is nothing compared to the Reapers."

"I know. But they don't," he leaned in, smirking, "But trust me, they'll learn fucking quick. I'll make sure there's no deserters."

"I'll see you there Zaeed," he replied, nodding and letting go of the man's shoulder, "It'll be just like the Collectors; side by side, guns blazing."

"Don't make me a fucking sentimental," he growled, but this one was full of mirth, "It makes people soft, and I'm a bloody hardass. The biggest, goddam hardass there is. Now go, this charge won't lead itself," and with that, Zaeed was gone, marching off across the field, back towards his men.

He reentered the Mako, taking his place in the driver's seat, with Liara still seated beside him, and James back manning the turret; Keeling, Javik, Kasumi and EDI were all ready to deploy. Just as he turned towards Liara, they all heard a distant explosion, and all eyes turned to see flames erupt and rise into the sky like a geyser from the colony, the sound of gunfire quickly following it. Another explosion, followed by several more, and the whistle of shells flying through the air could be heard, along with the shouts of men dying and shouting orders. The sky erupted in bright orange and black, and it was clear the battle had begun; Victus had initiated his artillery assault, and his men were charging; now to do the same.

He turned to Liara, a weak smile on his face, "You ready?"

She turned towards him, smiling, and her hand landed on his, squeezing it, "Yes."

He winced at the contact, and found himself pulling away suddenly, looking at her incredulously, "What did you do that for?"

"I..." she responded, shocked by his reaction, "I just did it as reassurance, Shepard."

 _Damn it, calm yourself, Marcus; she meant nothing by it. She knows you're married, and she wouldn't try and step in and take advantage of...her...absence. Just...ignore those impulses and focus on the mission._ He smiled, nodding, "Its okay, I just..." shaking his head, he turned forward, thumbing the controls, "Its nothing. Let's do this. Keeling, contact Zaeed and Kreete, tell them to march forward, on the double-quick, but  _remain behind the damn Mako._ We'll draw their fire," with his orders issued, he waited until Keeling finished relaying them, informed him of their compliance, and then thumbed the acellerator down lightly, moving the Mako forwardly slowly, and then steadily faster. Soon, it burst from the trees, and out into the open, moving toward Ohio. Soon, the Blood Pack followed, and then the Blue Suns. They did not shout; this pincer movement needed to be silent; it needed to be a last-minute shock tactic.

James, lining up the turret, took aim at a nearby building and awaited the go to fire; Marcus merely nodded, and felt the vehicle to thrum as the weapon barked, explosive 155mm shell shooting forward and slamming into the building, exploding with the impact and sending debris flying everywhere. Marcus turned to look at the Mako's rear camera, and saw the Blood Pack steadily advancing up behind them, krogan up front and growling while the vorcha hid in safety behind them; and behind them, was a wall of blue and white, Zaeed snarling orders at them.

They closed the distance pretty quickly, and the Mako rolled over the walls. Two of the unknown bogies with the katanas were just finishing the decapitation of an Eclipse salarian, when they turned to see the shadow of a large vehicle descending on them, before its immense weight crashed down on them, crushing them under it as it continued forward, James switching to the machine gun as he covered their advance.

There was a roar, followed by an assault trooper sent flying into a wall as a krogan plowed forward, reloading his claymore and leading a squad of vorcha with flamethrowers inside, tongues of flame licking at any Cerberus troopers dumb enough to get too close. The Blood Pack forces quickly flowed through, hordes of vorcha and krogan crashing through the Cerberus lines and quickly pushing them back. The Blue Suns pulled in afterwards, assault rifles barking and providing support for the advancing Blood Pack. A turian merc moved forward, tech armor active, but quickly had his head reduced to a fine blue mist from a lucky shot by a guardian, who quickly found his shield yanked away by a krogan, the Blood Pack merc quickly beating him to death with his own shield.

"Fall back! Move back to the hall!" one Cerberus soldier ordered, and Marcus drove the Mako towards that area to cut off their retreat. Victus' artillery had stopped, firing and now Eclipse YMIRs were locked in an epic battle with a Atlas mech; the latter was winning.

As he turned the corner, they found that two YMIRs were destroyed and reduced to molten wreckage, while another had begun tearing into the Atlas with its heavy machine gun. The high-velocity rounds pounded against the mech's heavy armor, but might as well have meant nothing as it dented off, serving only to scar the paint. The third YMIR raised its rocket arm and fired, but the blast was absorbed by the Atlas' shields as it merely raised its own arm, firing a rocket that reduced the YMIR to molten slag, spreading its wreckage out in a shotgun shell affect.

"James, get that Atlas' attention!" Marcus shouted, before driving out from around the corner, bringing them within full view of the Atlas. The pilot must have sensed their presence on their radar, as the mech began to turn around, bringing its weapons to bare; but James was faster. The turret gave a loud, thunderous retort, and the shell pierced the cockpit as the Atlas completed its turn, detonating inside, the back blowing apart and causing the Atlas to be torn asunder from the inside, the ammunition in its arm then detonating as the cascade of explosions reduced the Atlas to nothing.

Satisfied that their armoured support was gone, James switched back to the HMG, aimed at the Cerberus troops out in the open, trying to advance, and systematically gunned them down. Marcus was backing up the vehicle, shots pinged off the shields, as Palisus' voice came through his ear.

"Any units, we need immediate support! Cerberus pressing our flank!" the turian cried out in sudden terror, "We can't hold them, and our line is collapsing! We need support!"

He nodded, turning towards the back, "Keeling, you've got EDI and Javik! Get out there, find some men, and lift the pressure off of Palisus' flank! Go!" Before he was even finished, Keeling had unholstered her weapon, opening the hatch and rushing outside, EDI quickly following behind. Javik did not move, merely glaring at Marcus.

"I will not be working with a machine!" he growled, "They are untrustworthy! It would stab me in the back at its first chance!"

" _She_ can be trusted! She saved my life more times than you can imagine! But I'm not arguing the semantics with you now!" he growled, "Now go, Javik!"

The prothean simply nodded, unholstering his particle rifle as he leapt out the hatch, giving him a single glance that said they'd discuss this later. Shaking his head, he heard the hatch close as he drove forward and acellerated towards the hall, where Victus' forces were clamping down their hold on the retreating Cerberus forces.

After surprising a few guardians by running over them, the machine gun began coughing, rounds chewing up the Cerberus troops as Victus' Eclipse and Aria's forces attempted to push forward and encircle them.

He moved the Mako through what looked to be a crowd of dead bodies; a mix of Cerberus, and of their own forces. Dozens lay dead, but still they kept pushing. Victus lead from the back, he could see; the man standing and sniping his enemy, while grabbing any attempted deserters and throwing them back into the fray, telling them to keep fighting.

The fight was going well, as James considered his support from the turret, and one of the three of Victus' Makos rounded the corner.

Then it all went to shit when the Mako rounding the corner erupted into a great fireball, flames roaring upward as the vehicle was consumed and torn apart from the blast, reducing the vehicle to smoldering wreckage. The other two Makos backed up, and then Marcus saw them; two Atlases rounding the corner, both arms drawn. He watched as one brought up its foot and stomped down, crushing two Eclipse engineers, before using its hand to swat aside three krogan attempting to climb onto it, sending them flying. LOKI mechs fired at it, but its heavy machine guns tore them apart seemlessly, and the other Atlas only continued to advance behind it, its own cannon wreaking destruction along the mercenary line. Quick victory was quickly turning into quick disaster.

What happened next however, took him by surprise. He heard a shout of anger, followed by a roar of fury as the biotically-colored form of Aria leapt out from the clashing armies and came to land on the cockpit of the first Atlas, using her biotically clenched fist to smash open the cockpit, grab the pilot and throw him out into her army's midst, where Bray quickly put a shotgun shell in his chest.

With the Atlas in her grasp, Aria climbed into the cockpit, turned the Atlas around, and brought its rockets to bare. Before the second Atlas realized it, a rocket streamed from her cannon and hit the mech's leg joint, crippling and blowing it clean off its support, causing the Atlas to topple to one side, unable to get back up. Advancing up to it, she then, with a maniacal laugh, brought up her mech's foot, and brought it back down on the enemy Atlas, crushing the Atlas, and killing the pilot. With all Atlases eliminated, and the last one in their grasp, Cerberus now had no armoured support; the fight was now fully in their favor.

"Petrovsky, I hope you're fucking watching!" Aria cried out, and turned around, stomping down on a guardian before swatting aside a group of assault troopers. With her mercenary army at her back, she raised her right arm, enabled the cannon, and began a steady beat of shots, tearing into the Cerberus line, which was now being held by a long line of guardians, backed by dragoons who launched biotic attacks at the encroaching mercenary forces, but the asari of the Eclipse battered away their attacks with their own biotic barriers.

"Aria, Aria," he mused, shaking his head as he smiled, "You actually saved the day," as he watched their forces advance, Aria's Atlas coming to meet the guardian line head on, Keeling commed him. He nodded to Liara, and opened the comm link as the two Makos started rounding the corner again, carefully going around the wreckage of the destroyed vehicle.

"Palisus is pushing forward again," the N7 informed him, "We're converging on the hall. Massani says he hopes you haven't taken all the kills."

He chuckled, "Tell him that Aria did that already, and that he'd better hurry up or be left behind."

"Roger copy," Keeling replied, "We'll be there soon, Keeling out."

The rest of the assault went rather well; the Cerberus battalion was simply being decimated. They did not have the air support Marcus was convinced they would have, and with their three Atlases gone, and their snipers disposed of, the battle easily turned in their favor. Cerberus didn't give up meekly though, and for every assault trooper they killed, they took out three mercs. It was a bloodbath, suffice to say, and Marcus could only take note of the piles of bodies, both Cerberus and merc, piling up on the grassy plains. He hoped taking Eden Prime was worth this cost.

Keeling, EDI and Javik eventually caught up and flanked the Mako, followed not long after by the Blood Pack and Blue Suns taking the rearguard, Palisus complaining that the Eclipse were taking all the glory, but Zaeed managed to shut him up, feeling especially good after having sniped four centurions in a row. Aria had been causing a path of destruction with her newly acquired Atlas, but even the hulking death machine had a limit to the amount of punishment it could suffer, and eventually the asari had to abandon it as a centurion with a rocket launcher blew off one of her mech's legs, forcing him to leap out of it as it toppled to the ground, immobilized. Unfortunately for the centurion, his victory was short-lived, as Aria quickly yanked the rocket launcher from his grip, and tore him apart with a biotic reave before using the missile launcher to kill a few dragoons. And by that time, the Cerberus retreat had become a last bastion; like in New Hope, they fought to the last man.

When Marcus emerged from the smoke, he was greeted by a gruesome sight. During the assault, they had lost a full quarter of their force; a thousand men just dead. Despite having the element of surprise, these mercs were still just that; mercenaries with no military training. Cerberus however, were augmented supersoldiers; they were stronger, faster and, due to their huskification, basically had no emotion, meaning that they felt no fear, and fought to the last man. They were relentless in taking a position, and unrelenting in holding one. So while they had eventually destroyed the Cerberus forces, Cerberus themselves had landed a heavy toll on them as well. They had lost a Mako, 70 percent of their YMIR mechs, all of their LOKI mechs, and 97 percent of their FENRIS mechs. Keeling had been hit by a piece of rubble, and it grazed her hip, meaning her hip was swollen to the point of agony; but being the special forces badass that she was, she basically waved off his concerns and said she'd 'walk it off.' Javik had drawn up a very high Cerberus kill count, while EDI's performance had been flawless; Cerberus had very rarely landed a hit on her.

Most of the casualties belonged to the Blood Pack vorcha, who had charged Cerberus like rabid varren, had the tactical expertise of a moron, and had armor so thin that it could be cut with a butter knife; the krogan only amounted to a small 0.255 percent of the kills in the entire battle, which wasn't much. Next on the kills list was the Eclipse; largely salarians, due to their weak armor and lack of ability to stand up in sustained combat, while the smaller percentage had been asari and humans. The rest belonged to the Blue Suns, who had lost alot of men, close to two hundred, but hadn't lost as much as the others, so that was an added bargain. And Aria had barely lost any men at all; Victus, to his relief, had gotten out of the battle with barely a scratch on him. Still, Cerberus had enacted a terrible toll, and they had paid it; one thousand mercenaries lay dead, and this was only the first of many major battles.

But they had done it; Eden Prime had been liberated. The Cerberus battalion in Colony Ohio had held to the last man, as he knew they would, and were totally annihilated; Ohio became theirs. And by the time the Cerberus fleet above finally responded to the distress call coming from the colony, they found it had fallen to a united mercenary force; that must have been really surprising. And if Nakamura's tale told true, they had landed one kill on the Cerberus fleet, and managed to damage two more; but their dreadnought and carrier remained intact. In the end, the enemy fleet had seen that the battle was lost, and they could not hope to retake Eden Prime, and had made best speed for the relay. When the mercenaries had been informed, they had cheered.

Much to his disappointment however, Kreete had been killed during the battle; they had found his decapitated remains beside the body of one of the dead soldiers with a katana, who had been killed by a krogan. After accessing what Cerberus files they could in the base, they had found the names for every trooper variant in the Cerberus Army, and found they were called Phantoms; stealth operatives that used tactical cloak to sneak up on their enemy and assassinate them quickly and effieciently; assassins of the highest order. And the leader of the Phantoms, was Kai Leng. He had gritted his teeth at that.  _The bastard who killed Byp, Shala'Raan's husband. So this asshole is a stealth operative? And he's still alive? Good. I'd hate for him to die before I kill him myself._

Kreete's death hadn't hurt Aria that much; she had merely replaced him with another vorcha puppet leader; Gryll. The vorcha was just as dumb as Kreete, although Marcus believed he looked to be slightly smarter, but he guessed stupidity was inherent in vorcha culture; something Javik seemed intent on pointing out. Sayn had survived the battle, as had Zaeed, unsurprisingly, so the Blue Suns and Eclipse leaders remained unharmed; that was good. It meant they still had secure leaders in their organizations, and men like Zaeed and Sayn were loyal; out of moral capacity, not out of stupidity like Kreete, or the new case, Gryll.

With a sigh, he stepped down from the rubble ornamenting the top of the building, and jumped down, narrowly missing a piece of blackened hull wreckage that had originally been part of a Mako. Zaeed, merely out of friendship, had decided to give Marcus one of his Makos, largely because the current Normandy was lacking a tank of any capacity, so filling it was good; even if he had preferred the Hammerhead; if not for its armor, then for its superior weaponry.  _I wonder if Cerberus has thought of building more Hammerhead tanks like the one they gave me? Those things packed one hell of a nasty punch._

"I knew you were loco," James' voice stated from his side, and he stood up fully to face the marine, who was still clad in his alliance combat armor, "But jumping into a pile of rubble? Come on loco, calm down."

"Just shut your mouth, Vega," he replied, but the marine saw the grin on his face and he merely grinned back as Marcus continued, approaching him, "You contacted the Normandy?"

James nodded, dropping his smile, "Yeah; he's told  _Esteban_ , and the man's taking the shuttle down to pick us up; I just hope that shuttle has heavy lift gear for our new Mako."

" _'Esteban_?'" Marcus quiered, but as he hit his epiphany, he raised his hand, forestalling any further comment by the marine, "Oh wait, its a nickname for Cortez, isn't it?"

"I give nicknames to those who fit them. You're completely loco, Garrus has scars on his face, and Liara does have blue skin," he shrugged, "I thought I'd call Cortez  _Esteban_."

"My translators might be playing up," Marcus began, frowning, "But according to it,  _Esteban_  is spanish for 'Stephen,' which is just a variant of the name Steven. So I'll I can ask is; you're nickname for Cortez is just his first name in Spanish?" he cracked a smirk at James' lack of creativity.

"Hey, I did say they fit their nicknames," he laughed awkwardly, shaking his head, "But I don't see why this is important."

"It isn't, just wanted to clarify," Marcus' grin stayed, despite himself, but he quickly brushed it off when he looked back over the wreckage, "So much death...destruction. And to think this is what the rest of the war has in store for us," he turned back to Vega, sighing, "Think we can win this?"

The man's features were determined, and he nodded, "We're going to kick Cerberus' ass, and then we'll build this weapon, and destroy the Reapers. You can count on us winning. The American War of Independence looked grim at first, but the Americans won in the end; because of strength, courage and all their allies."

"Didn't know you were an historian. Or a speech maker. I should look to you for consultation," he laughed, shaking his head as he turned back, "No, you're right Vega. This battle today...it was the first victory we've had against the Reapers, against Cerberus, as the United Galactic Confederacy."

"I think its our first major victory, period," James replied, joking, "Mars not withstanding."

"True," he replied in earnest, turning back to the marine, as he placed a hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing with a tight grip, "This war is going to need alot of soldiers like you, Vega. You've got spirit. I remember what you said to me as we were leaving Earth; you were hurting, you wanted to stay and fight. That kind of valour and determination is something we're going to need from every soldier, regardless of species."

"You were right, loco," James responded, nodding grimly as he took off his helmet, swiping off the dust that had coated on it, staining its vibrant color, "Leaving Earth was the right thing to do; I was in the wrong. Leaving my home...it just pissed me off. Filled me with rage, pain...my uncle lives in Mexico, and my old man lived in New York, last I remember. Think I had an aunt in Perth, too. To think that the Reapers were likely harvesting them, while I was on a frigate pissing off to fight the war somewhere else? Hell loco, its been days now since we left. Feels like years, but its only been...what? Four days? Four days since this war began. In that time, my aunt and uncle could be a husk, and my dad could be dead. And I'm on Eden Prime, fighting Cerberus goons, far, far away. How did that make me feel? I hated you; but then I realized that this war is more than personal; its galaxy-wide. I was being selfish, completely ignoring that an entire galaxy was suffering, while I was bitching and moaning about leaving one planet. No, I was being a fool; this war isn't about me, or you, its about the bigger picture; and if I have to sacrifice myself to save it, then so be it. You were right loco, and I'm behind you, one hundred percent."

He simply nodded, smiling meekly, "I'm glad you came to realize that, Vega. I need you, and so does everyone. You're a better fighter when you're focused," as he finished, he knew he didn't really share Vega's beliefs of sacrifice.  _I'm glad you're ready to sacrifice yourself, Vega. I want to believe I am, but then all I have to do is mention the very word, mentally or verbally, and there pops Tali, ready to take me on a guilt trip. How_ _ **could**_ _I sacrifice myself, knowing that I'd possibly hurt her in ways I couldn't imagine? He remembered her saying that he died once, and she was a wreck. If he died again, she said she wouldn't survive this time; she'd just collapse. And I don't even want to know exactly what she meant by that._ But despite his selfish want, he knew the needs of the galaxy came first, and in the end, knew he'd have to choose.  _Do I sacrifice myself to save trillions, or live to be with the one that matters most to me?_

He shook his head of those thoughts, and made his way to the extraction site. Right now, here, they had won a great victory; Eden Prime was back in Alliance hands, and Cerberus had lost its potential foothold in the region; and they had stopped them from acquiring the last prothean in existence, who happened to be a soldier. It had been the first of potentially many victories for the UGC, and in the end, Marcus couldn't be happier for that. And now, on the horizon, was a war summit that would decide the future of the Volus Protectorate, Salarian Union, Turian Hierarchy, Asari Republics and now the krogan people, for the course of the war, and whether they would join the united forces of the UGC or not. For the prothean superweapon wasn't going to build itself.

And yet a prothean had risen, awake and alive, ready to fight the Reapers and show them the protheans weren't done yet. He was their voice, and it was angry.

He had risen...from ashes.

**"Javik was a very intense character, I'll admit. And I don't think I saw the Liberation of Eden Prime on the news."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It was a great victory for us; it showed Cerberus could be beaten, although people didn't care; they were looking for victories against the Reapers, for which they wouldn't find any; Cerberus had our technological capability, but the Reapers? Way beyond our league."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So when did this War Summit occur?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"It officially took place on June 8th in orbit over Mannovai, in the Salarian Union owned system of Mevaro, Annos Basin Cluster."**

**"Two days after the Liberation of Eden Prime? Guess it took some time to form up."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It certainly did, and during that time, I learnt alot about the crew. More than I thought I would."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"And, of course, you deeply missed me."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Enough that it hurt to think about it."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Long chapter? Yeah, that was the intention; but I hope this was epic enough for you. That officially closes the From Ashes segment, and I hope it was a nice taste of what's going to happen; there will be more full-scale battles, and they'll get bigger as Marcus gathers more of the races to join him (Which is why I can't wait for the quarian-geth conflict arc of this story. That'll be epic). So yeah.** _

_**War Summit is up soon, but that won't be until Chapter 12; Chapter 11 is up next, with some dialogue; I'm definitely going to be having Shepard talk more with Samantha and Cortez, to satisfy the fans of those characters, along with some James, and some Keeling, for those interested in her character (please tell me in your review of this what you think of her. Is she a satisfying OC? What could I do to extend her personality? Give me some ideas; they're appreciated). There'll also be more 'meanwhile, on the front' segments, along with the first of many Anderson POVs on Earth. Along with a POV on Tuchanka that I won't give away; it isn't Wrex or Grunt. So you guys can interpret that. I look forward to your guessing; trust me, you'll never find the right answer! And those who do belong in an insane asylum; nothing short of a psychic could discover what I'm talking about.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _

_**On a side note: Any of those of you paying attention to the news? Seems like the Coalition is building back up just to deal with ISIS; shit's getting real.** _


	13. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Kasumi talk. Tali looks after her child while trying to calm the talks of war spreading through the Fleet. James gets to know Keeling, but prods her a bit too far. Anderson heads to Europe to lead the resistance. The Reapers arrive on Tuchanka.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:**

**PRESSURE**

_June 6, 2186_

_2153 hours._

_Port Observation, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

Garrus Vakarian sat behind the lounge in the Port Observation room, legs tucked neatly before him and a bottle of turian brandy ontop of the bench before him, one of the turian's three-fingered hands lazily swirling the dark liquid around in a glass as he looked into its inner depths, deep in his own realms of thought.

The Normandy was currently docked with the Citadel, refueling, rearming and resupplying, while Shepard also went to attend a meeting with Hackett and Udina over the future of the Systems Alliance, and whether it should join the UGC or not. The Normandy had spearheaded the return of the mercenary ships, until they broke off; after a final goodbye, Zaeed took Palisus and the rest of his troops and returned to Zorya; the merc had heard reports of Reaper forces probing the Ismar Frontier, and wanted to evacuate the planet and relocate his headquarters. Sayn took his Eclipse and remained on the Citadel, while Gryll took the Blood Pack to the vorcha homeworld...under Aria's command. The asari herself had returned to Purgatory, although reluctantly. Garrus laughed inwardly at that; take Afterlife away from the great Aria T'Loak, and she founders.  _Should have considered blowing up the place when I was still Archangel..._

He sighed happily, taking another sip of his drink, which was the third he had. He wasn't planning on getting drunk, just enough to wash away the memories of watching Eclipse mercs get blown apart, Blood Pack vorcha get chewed by bullets, and Blue Suns get eviscerated by phantoms. The Battle for Colony Ohio on Eden Prime had been some of the bloodiest fighting he had seen, with the exception of Menae, and it shook him down to the core. He knew war was brutal, and deep down, he knew he had seen worse, but to see it again and again? It wasn't something you got used to; not even soldiers. You'd have to be ice-cold.

Garrus was not ice-cold. But his drink was.

He grunted as he leaned forward over the bench, moving to fill his glass again, which he had just discovered was now absent of his brandy. He was flicking the cap when he heard a voice right next to him, one that almost caused him to jump...if it hadn't been for him being used to it by now.

"Alochol is bad for you, you know," she stated, materializing on the stool on his left, grinning wickedly behind her hood.

"Only in large amounts," Garrus reasoned. He continued despite the thief's observations, and when he was done, the glass was once again half full, sitting before him in a dark swirl. He heard a sigh from her corner, followed by what he saw was an eye roll.

"Hey, only I'm allowed to try ad spout nonsense," Kasumi quipped, shaking her head, "You should know better, Vakarian."

"Trust me, I do know better. Secretly. Not so secretly," the turian retorted, a pathetic grin splitting his face, "Eh, who cares. Its my business what I drink, not yours. Why are you even here?"

"Um...I sleep here?" Kasumi replied, giggling, "Remember, the Lounge is my domain."

"On the old Normandy," he replied.

"This still is that Normandy," she replied, "Just with Alliance colors." She saw the look he gave her, and she sighed, holding her hands up in defeat, "Okay, they've changed it alot; but hey, inside looks aren't everything, you know! The Lounge is still here, so its still my room! I think I have a right to know why you're hogging all the dextro alcohol."

He nodded, conceding to her point, "Well, I couldn't let you control all the booze, now could I? You've got so much. I thought I'd...lessen the pressure," he smirked, before taking another sip of his drink, "Damn. No idea why I drink this; what did Zaeed call it? That's right! He said it tastes like  _piss_ ," he lapped his tongue out, demonstrating his distaste, "And yet I keep drinking it."

"Yes, you're repulsive. Don't think I feel sorry for you," she replied, shaking her head with mirth, "Because I don't. You brought this on yourself, Vakarian."

"Noted," was his simple retort, and with a smile he went to take a another sip of his drink, before Kasumi roughly took it from his hands and tipped it back into the bottle, before fastening the cap over it. It took his befuddled, woozy mind to comprehend what she was doing, and finally he spoke, "Hey! What are you doing?"

"Cutting you off, dino," she replied, taking the bottle back around the counter and putting it away, "You know how Shep dislikes drunkards, and especially on his ship."

"He..." the turian hiccuped, waggling a finger a-matter-of-factly, ""He...is a hypocrite! I...can drink...what I want!"

"You tipsy imbecile," the thief retorted, leaning over the counter with a raised eyebrow, "He's never gotten drunk...ever. And just because you're on 'big brother' terms with him, doesn't mean you get a free pass on getting drunk. He'll still kick your butt."

"Ass," he corrected, "You can say ass, you know."

"Nah. I leave bad words to you tough guys. And Jack," she grinned, shaking her head, "Besides, among my people, its bad to use insults casually; it brings create disrespect to our family. I'd be a terrible Goto if I broke that rule now."

"The Japanese sound very humble. How very turian," he grunted, sighing, "Fine. You have my attention,  _Goto._ What do you...want?"

"Oh, I have a motivation now? How very...thiefist? No, no that sounded very bad. Not going to say that one again," he heard the distaste in her voice, and he smiled, although for some reason that was the same for every time she spoke, especially with  _him_ , "But uh...why would I need a motivation?"

"You always do," he stated simply, and she nodded, conceding to his point.

"Was just worried about ya, is all," she replied, eyes taking on an inquisitive shape, "You are okay, right? You don't look well."

"I'm fine," the turian grunted, eyes narrowing as he looked back down at the tabletop.  _So that's how it's going to be, is it? A fucking psych check?_

"No you're not," she firmly stated, her own eyes narrowing, "Don't give me that tough guy stuff, because it won't work on me; or any woman with any intellect. I may not have a shotgun to threaten you with like Tali does, but I can threaten to throw your precious sniper rifle out an airlock."

He turned to her incredulously, "You wouldn't."

Her eyes gleamed, "I would. Especially if I found your mandibles not moving and words coming out, words along the lines of an explanation of why you seem to look so gloomy. You haven't left this room since we got back to the ship."

He merely glared at her, clearly showing no intent on telling her, but knowing that if he didn't, she would carry out her threat. With an exhale of breath, he leaned back, letting his glass sit on the countertop, "Fine. You want to know what's bothering me? This war. Everything to do with it. That's what."

"You think you're the only one?" Kasumi replied, coming around to take a seat next to him, sighing as she sank into it, "Everyone's bothered by this war.  _I'm_ bothered by this war. Shep's bothered by this war, even if he won't admit it."

"It's just..." he stopped himself, before continuing, trying to cling to any words that could assemble a sentence of explanation, "I watched my homeworld burn, Kasumi. I effectively let my family behind to die; do you have any idea what that's like? Knowing your family, your parents, your sister, were trapped on your homeworld, knowing they were alive, and just leaving them and running off? It hurts. Spirits, I don't even know if they're still alive or not. They could dead. I wouldn't know. The Reapers have jammed all outbound communications. I was fighting on a moon, only to be picked up and flown off to fight the war somewhere else, while my family likely perished."

"Don't be like that," Kasumi replied sternly, her cheery exterior gone, "Your family  _is not_ dead. You said it yourself; you know they're alive. Maybe they escaped, and you just don't know. Don't jump to conclusions. And running off was the right thing; what we're doing will save everyone."

"That's if this weapon is even reliable. If it even works. If its not some elaborate trap," he justified, shaking his head, "I've put all my faith in Shepard, and I have to believe he'll get it done, with our help. But if this weapon really does prove to be a ruse? What then? Just what hope do we have? You haven't seen the Reapers in action Kasumi; you haven't been on or seen a planet they are razing; its total destruction, and you can't even stop them; it took the combined fire of  _five_ fleets just to land a few kills. And we're hoping every fleet in the galaxy will stop hundreds of thousands of them," he sighed, "The odds aren't in our favor. They never have been."

"But that's what Shep does best," Kasumi quipped, "Beating the odds. Achieving the impossible. Garrus, he came back from the  _dead_."

"Yeah," the turian rumbled, chuckling slightly, "He does have a habit of doing that," his laugh became genuine, "And he did lead a team into the Collector Base with no casualties. That's quite a mean feat."

"So why don't you think we can win this?" Kasumi quiered.

The mirth was gone from his eyes in a moment as he turned to face her, "Because I think even the man who beats all the odds has an anchor. That anchor isn't here, and he's falling apart. You should see him when he's alone, Kasumi. I've asked EDI. He just looks through messages on his terminal, galactic news, and most of it is status reports on Earth. He hasn't talked to his mother, and most of his outbound communications are to Hackett or other military or political figures. And when he's not doing any of that...he drinks. Heavily."

"Are you telling me he gets drunk?" Kasumi said, flabbergasted, "He gets a hangover?"

"No. His new body makes him incapable of that," Garrus informed her, "His cybernetics filter out all the alcohol and effectively destroy it. Its impossible for him to get drunk, no matter how much he drinks. I think he knows that, but he tries anyway. I guess he just wants to forget all the stuff he's seen. The death. The destruction. But most of all, I think he just craves to have that anchor, his rock, near him."

"'His rock?'" she questioned, "Are we talking about...?"

"You know damn well who I'm talking about. He's lost without her," he leaned forward, towering over his drink, glancing into its alcoholic depths, "The man's a wreck, and there's not a damn thing any of us can do about it; he has to figure this out for himself. We either find Tali soon, or he's just going to become a robot. A soldier with no emotions. A machine, in all but name."

"You really think it'll get that bad?" she asked, worried, "He'll just cut himself off?"

"Considering the things we've seen..." he trailed off, finally picking up his glass and just holding it, "I think being a machine would be just fine. Just to be desensitized to it all...to not feel anything, to not feel all the horrors of it all...the nightmares it induces...it sounds like my idea of heaven. How could I blame him?" he took a sip and gulped, sighing, "But once you become a machine, it means you cease being what you were. All your morals just die; only logic remains. And that's what scares me. That the Shepard we both know will just cease to exist and become a...a perversion of what we knew."

He turned towards her, meeting her eyes, mandibles twitching, "That man once taught me that justice and revenge need to be two seperate things for an officer; for one is truth, and the other is personal truth. That's what corrupts people, he said. He taught me that after I almost shot Tali to kill a criminal we were chasing who was holding her hostage," he shook away the sadness of the day, "I wasn't proud of that, and he kicked my ass for it, but I learnt in the end; I became a better man. But what if that man were to just die, moralistically, if not physically? What if one day...he just killed without a thought, showed no mercy, maimed and destroyed...Kasumi, what if that machine one day met his wife again?"

Kasumi gulped, not liking the implications, "Tali would change him back."

"That's pretty optimistic," Garrus countered.

"Optimism's all we have left in this," Kasumi retorted, "If we give up on hope, what's the point on fighting? We might as well give ourselves up and be harvested. And I don't know about you, but I'm not about to surrender to Harbinger. He's very scary...and a bit condescending."

That caused Garrus to smile lightly, "True. Harbinger is a bit of a prick. But so is the Illusive Man," his smile died, and he shook his head, "I just hope we find Tali soon...and quickly, before it all goes to shit."

"You'll get no arguments from me," she spun to face the counter, smiling, "Mind if I join you? I could use a drink myself. Clear my thoughts."

He nodded, "I'd...I'd like that."

And so they both drank in silence, both hoping for a brighter future.

It was a desperate hope.

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1239 hours._

_Admiral's Quarters, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Migrant Fleet, Sea of Storms System, Phoenix Massing Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina._

The room was deadly silent, save for the gentle hum of the former human destroyer's pulsing engines rumbling through the ship, and the numerous quarians moving about outside her quarters. Her ship was heavily staffed, and not lacking in a marine continegent, so it meant her ship was just as noisy as all the others on the Fleet.

Unlike most Migrant Fleet ships however, the Machina and much more going for it in terms of space. While still considerably small, it was bigger than what most ship captains got, let alone an Admiral, and had enough room for her to walk in circles. Her clan colors, purple for Clan Zorah, were draped along the walls, although now obsolete and just a relic, because she was no longer a Zorah, and was successfully married into Clan Shepard, or whatever humans called their clan system. It had a single door ahead of her as an entrance, a basic sleeping mat on the left, and a large desk at the end, with an observation window behind her allowing a view of the void that made up the universe around them. Aside from that, it was a rather dull room, and nothing of note.

Sitting on that desk was a basic terminal, a few scattered tools, a prototype omni-tool, a few arc grenades, and a collapsed form of her combat drone, Chiktika vas Paus. The terminal was open, and numerous tabs were opened, some pertaining to news on the Reaper War, others on weapons and omni-tool selections. One particular tab, one she had open for ages, was a tab with the search ponder 'Marcus Shepard,' which she had open constantly for updates. And sitting behind that desk, lamp shining over her in the darkened room, was Tali'Shepard, Crew of Machina, Ex-Crew of Normandy, Ex-Crew of Neema, Child of Rayya, combat engineer, captain and Chief Admiral of the Admiralty Board; the Migrant Fleet's military order and command structure; equivalent of the turian and asar High Command.

Tali was multitasking, at concurrent. While one three-fingered, gloved hand glided over her terminal keypad, typing in commands and messages, the other held a small child, a human-quarian hybrid, tiny three-fingered hands grasping at his mother's suit covering, little mouth latched around her left breast, which she had exposed temporarily to feed her child; most normal mothers went to a clean room for breastfeeding, but Tali was simply too busy for that.  _Is this what father was like? Too busy to look after his own child? Keelah, I'm beginning to understand his position. Still, he could have at least told me 'I love you' every once and a while; he only got around to that when he was_ _ **dying.**_

Her child was a marvaleous piece of creation, and she was proud to be his mother. As previously stated, he was a human-quarian hybrid; a byproduct of a cross-species reproduction serum created by Professor Mordin Solus, a close friend of hers, to give Marcus and herself a chance at having children, something robbed of them by their differing biological structures and species. The serum had worked, just as Mordin said it would, and Tali had gotten pregnant with the first ever hybrid child recorded in history.

And like you'd expect from a hybrid, he (yes, the child turned out to be a boy), had features from both species. Physically, the boy was quarian; he had three-fingered hands and three-toed feet, the arched back, arched legs, eyes, ears (which Marcus had called 'elf ears,' although she never understood why) and hair of a quarian male. At first, Tali thought he'd have nothing from his father's side, but then Elan ran a scan.

Inside, Junior was human; and what was the best part, was that counted for the immune system was well; his immune system meant he did not need a suit or a bubble. He had the heart, two lungs, kidneys, genitalia, etc of a human male, which was truly remarkable. Tali had smiled at this revelation, and cried in celebration that her child would never know the horrors of the prison that was quarian enviro-suits.

And yes, his name was Junior; according to quarian custom, and she assumed this was universal across all species, both parents came up with a name for the child, and when in agreement, passed it down. But since the father was off and likely light years away, that only left the mother and being devoted to quarian beliefs, she decided to wait until the father was present to name their child; so for now, his name was Junior.

Suddenly, broken from her stupor, she heard the sucking noises stop, and sighed as she knew what came next, and come it did; Junior began wailing. This process had occurred almost repeititively, but Tali knew how to solve it; she would rock him back and forth, whispering soft, khelish reassurances to him before he would then fall asleep. When he woke up, which was usually half a minute later, he would go back to sucking happily, and the process would repeat later on. She did this, and, right on the ball, he woke up and began sucking again, and she returned to work.

Keelah, nursing a child like this was hard, but it wasn't nearly as hard as-

The memories washed back almost immediately.

_"Admir-Tali, you need to push!" Elan ordered, desperately trying to be heard over the quarian's screaming, "You're almost there! You just need to-"_

_"Elan, let me handle this," Shala ordered, and gently shoved the doctor out of the way, taking hold of Tali's hand, "Tali, its Auntie Raan. Look, you can't give up now. You need to keep pushing."_

_"I...I...c-c-can-can't...DO IT!" At the last two words, the baby was kicking again, and Tali let out another shriek of agony, but kept her legs parted on the bed, Elan on the other side with two other doctors, waiting for the baby to appear._

_"Yes you can child," Shala growled, "We will not let this child die, or you, because you chose to give up."_

_"M-M-Ma-Marcus..." she whispered, a tear dropping down her cheek, "I-I need...him..."_

_"Marcus isn't here, I'lessha," Shala cooed, feeling sympathetic for the girl, "He's on Earth, in prison, remember?"_

_"I...I...I need him...please..." she screamed again, and this time Elan held a thumbs up, to let her know the baby was coming out, but Tali's pleas didn't stop, "MARCUS! PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"_

_"He's not-"_

_"Shut up!" Tali silenced, and Shala did exactly that, as the quarian continued to scream, "Keelah, it hhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuurrrRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSS!"_

_A loud pop could be heard, followed by a final high-pitched wail from Tali, before she slumped in the bed, legs collapsing, but not before the baby was retrieved and the cord cut. The sounds of a baby crying could be heard, but Tali did not acknowledge it, and Shala could only barely make out her mutterings, "Marcus...Marcus...Marcus..." she choked back a sob, "I_ _**need** _ _you..."_

_"Ma'am?"_

_Tali's sob suddenly ceased, and as she looked up, she saw Junior looking back down at her with squinted eyes, Elan smiling behind her mask sadly at Tali as the quarian mother observed her child's naked, wet body, gently wrapped up in a warm towel. She continued to cry, but suddenly, Tali reached out, taking the child in her arms and resting him against her chest, the child's wailing suddenly stopping, as if the connection between mother and child was complete. Tali half-laughed, stroking her child's bald head with a gloved finger. She choked back another sob, a few more tears streaking down her face, but Shala didn't know if they were of sadness or joy at this point; maybe they were both._

_"Keelah Se'lai," she whispered to him, "Marcus, I wish you could be here...to see this...to see our son..." she sobbed once more, and Shala quickly relieved the child from her arms and turned her away as Tali broke into a fit of weeping, occassionally crying out Marcus' name, along with what sounded to be a name for a child._

She was suddenly returned to the present, and Tali blinked, realizing Junior had fallen asleep in her arms. She also noticed that her cheeks were wet, and she had been crying. Sniffling, she went to wipe her eyes, only for her hands to bump against her visor, and she sighed, picking up Junior and placing him in his cot, before returning to her desk, placing her breast back in the suit and sealing it back up.

Just as she was about to return to work however, she heard a knock on the door, and sighed. And just as she had been moving to select the 'Marcus Shepard' tab, too.  _Just one moment alone. That's all I ask. Must my people need my time constantly?_

She called out for the person to enter, and watched as the door shot open, Igra standing outside with her hands lazily hanging at her sides, with what looked to be a impatient looking Kal hefting a crate standing behind her, waiting on Igra's orders. Tali nodded for them to speak, and Igra did so, stepping forward as Kal did, "Well, I have some good news, Admiral."

"Igra, its Tali, for the last time," she replied sternly, meeting the quarian's eyes, "And what may this good news be?"

"Well...Mrs. Shepard," she replied cheekily, ignoring the Admiral's eye roll, "Your new suit has arrived. The combat one you ordered made?"

Tali straightened, interest suddenly peaked and turning off her terminal, "You mean the prototype combat suit?"

"Yes, that one," Igra waved a dismissive hand, pretending to contemplate beforehand, "I can never remember their names. Alot of needless scientific dribble to sugar-coat some badass tech. We honestly should just call it that, 'Badass Tech Suit.' That sounds alot cooler now, doesn't it?"

"Just show me the suit Igra," she ordered, coming to stand infront of the desk, leaning against it, crossing her arms under her breasts, "I am not in the mood today for your games. Get on with it."

She noticed Igra's eyes lower to her breasts for a second before quickly focusing back on her eyes, and nodding, something of a smirk forming behind her mask, "Okay, then Mrs. Grouchy," she turned to Kal, "Put down the crate and open it, but don't touch the suit. You have a wife."

"A fact I'm well aware of," Kal deadpanned, and moved and placed the crate down on the ground, standing up and using his omni-tool to key the lock and open it. With the seal broken, he placed both hands under the seal and forced it open, before stepping back, and standing at attention. Igra, still grinning, swooned over to the crate, reached inside, and pulled out the contents, turning towards Tali to show her what lay inside.

It was a technological masterpiece; armor fit for a marine; but this wasn't just armor, this was a totally new enviro-suit made entirely for sustained combat scenarios. The suit looked like hers in general design and shape, and did have her Zorah colors draped over it like her currrent one, but there was design choices put to it; the suit was now laced with golden belts and armoured sections, along with a long line of black armoured plates lining down the sternum and breasts, and a flexible metal hood; even the mask was made of reinforced glass. The suit now had two boot knife holsters, and even seemed to come with a bandolier belt. It was perfect.

Tali held out her hands, and Igra let her take it, the quarian admiral examining it more closely; it was light to the touch and not very heavy, so it wouldn't limit her in battle. It was flexible but also provided heavy protection, and she could see a state-of-the-art kinetic barrier generator hooked on the side; no doubt some poor pilgrim went to alot of trouble to acquire that.  _Hopefully, he or she didn't steal that._ She nodded, looking at Igra, "This is excellent. Very well designed."

"Your battle armor, Admiral Shepard," Igra stated with some smugness, "Courtesy of my uncle. I did tell you he was a great craftsman; mix that with being good at making suits and armor, and you've got the perfect man for making stuff like this," her position then slumped, eyes frowning behind her mask, "But if I may ask, just what are you planning to use this for?"

"When we engage the Reapers in battle. I may be an Admiral, but I am a soldier, first and foremost, and my place is at my husband's side," Tali replied, as if rehearsed as she lay the suit on her desk, turning back to face her XO, "The Reapers are ravaging the galaxy as we speak, Igra, do not think I have not read the news reports. Marcus is no doubt fighting them right now, and I promised him the Migrant Fleet. Our survival depends on it."

"That's a pretty hard promise to keep," Igra noted, "You may be Chief of the Board, but the people still need to vote on it, along with the rest of the Board and the Conclave. You can't just decide to give 50,000 ships and 17 million quarians over to one man to use and command; there will be disagreement. Besides, from what I've heard, old issues seem to be popping up."

"Old issues? As in?" Tali asked, not sure she'd like the answer, as she crossed her arms again. Before Igra could answer, Kal spoke, deciding he'd best spit it out.

"Many of our people seem to believe we should use the Reaper invasion as a distraction. An opportunity," he sighed, looking at her, "I think you know what for. After drifting around for three hundred years, I think there's only one thing our people want more than anything else."

"Rannoch. The home of our ancestors," Tali answered for him, nodding, a grimace covering her face, "And they are insane to think of such things. We need to be dealing with the real threat; the Reapers. We can't waste time and resources invading the Perseus Veil. Besides, the geth are willing to talk! You spoke with Legion, Kal! If our two peoples can achieve peace, we'll not only get Rannoch back, but the geth and our people will be united against the Reapers. Marcus said it himself, 'The one thing the Council should fear the most after the Reapers is a quarian-geth alliance; they'd be close to unstoppable.'"

"I never said I agreed with the consensus opinion, Mrs. Shepard. I spoke to Legion, as did Madi. Keelah, I was there when Shepard first talked to the thing. Ready to shoot it and everything," he waved a hand, "I know we can achieve peace, but not everyone else sees it that way; they see an enemy that exiled them to the stars for three centuries and to a life of torment, misery and solitary confinement. They want ground beneath their feet once more; they want our homeworld back. We've suffered long enough for our mistake, they say."

"Besides," Igra spoke, having already been filled in on the situation. She hadn't liked it to begin with, and had considered accusing her of treason, but once the situation was further explained, she eventually took their side, and elected not to tell the Admiralty or anyone else about it, "I have to agree with them."

"Igra?" Tali asked, flabbergasted, "Why?"

"I understand the Reaper threat. Which is exactly why we need Rannoch back," she justified, "Once we have Rannoch back in our grasp, we'll have a place to hide our civilians. When that's done, we'll be able to deploy the entire flotilla for battle; keelah Tali, we'll be able to retrofit the liveships into dreadnoughts. The entire Migrant Fleet will be free to use, but while our people live on them...any battle with the Reapers might mean our people's complete extinction."

Tali wanted to deny her logic, but she was right. They needed Rannoch; only that world could sustain and nurture the quarian people properly, and it was the only homeworld her people would accept.  _Our civilians would be safe, and people like Koris would be far from the battle; unable to influence tactical decisions. Gerrel would be at his best use fighting the Reapers, as would Xen. But what if we acquired Rannoch without invading? The entire geth fleet and army; they would make us unbelievably powerful; and they don't have civilians. All they have to do is give one a gun, and they're a soldier in seconds. Their entire_ _ **species**_ _would be deployable military force...think of the force we could apply to the Reapers!_

"I see your point, but invading the Perseus Veil would be foolhardy at present. We need to consider...better options," Tali concluded.

"Well...that's where the problem comes in," Igra solemnly declared, and all eyes turned on her, including Kal's, who looked at her in confusion. Tali was easily as confused, frowning at Igra as she spoke, while her XO seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze.

"Igra, what do you mean by that?"

The quarian finally met her eyes, shaking her head, "The Admiralty Board has convened a meeting. Gerrel has requested you appear; its being held on the Qwib Qwib."

"They convened a meeting without my consent? And now Gerrel has the audacity to request my presence?" Tali growled, exhaling, "Fine, I will appear, if only to find out the meaning of this."

"Tali, the problem is, I don't think this is an ordinary meeting," she stated, rubbing her mask, "Gerrel made it sound as if this meeting could decide the fate of the quarian people, he was that punctual with his words."

This peaked Tali's interest and she nodded slowly, "Very well, then I will see what this is about. Igra, prep my shuttle on the Trading Deck. I will be there within ten minutes. I need to have someone look after Junior while I'm gone. And no Igra, it won't be you; you're coming with me."

Igra nodded, snapping a salute, as did Kal, before both hastily left, and Tali slumped into her seat, giving Junior a single glance as she sighed. Tearing her eyes away from the sleeping demon, she looked at her terminal, and at the unsubmitted request for news on Marcus Shepard.  _Not now. Maybe later._ She bookmarked the search query, and then closed the tab, standing up and placing her combat suit back in its crate, which she promptly sealed and slid over to the right of her desk, where it stayed hidden until needed. When she was done, she grabbed her phalanx heavy pistol and strapped it to her hip; a habit she had picked up from Marcus.  _Everytime we used to go somewhere, thinking no violence would ensue, and it did. Well, this time I'm prepared. Always._ And with a passing glance at her sleeping boy, she turned and left, heading for the med bay, where hopefully the ship's medical officer could look after Junior.

Then she'd have a meeting to attend. And if she hadn't any say in it, it would not lead to the invasion that the Fleet did not need.

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1300 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Patrolling Boltzmann System, Serpent Nebula._

_The Reaper War._

_Second Lieutenant James Vega, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

Both of his arms flexed almost simultaneously as he grunted, the sound leaving his lips as he lifted his entire body mass off the ground and into the air for a second, head raising above the steel bar that had been above him, but was now level with him. After all that, he was back down after a second, and repeating the same movement. James Vega had been repeating this for a period of fifteen minutes, the same mundane action, the same physical exertion that he got from it. He was nowhere close to sweating, but his muscles were growing slightly fatigued from the repeititive action, not that James cared. His uncle had taught him that repeititive actions bred tolerance for repeitition, and if you can tolerate that, then anything can be tolerated.

He had long since finished disassembling and reassembling his Revenant on the weapons bench, deciding he wanted to add a incendiary mod to the barrel, along with an old-style bayonet for when things got nasty; he never really bothered with the now standard issue omni-blade, as he was more into the old style weapons such as knives, bayonets and frag grenades, as they felt more reliable to him then kinetic barriers and omni-blades and remotely-detonated explosives. And he loved the good old-fashioned bayonet.

As he continued his lifts, his eyes caught the recent addition to the ship at the end of the bay; the Mako. James smiled at this as he lifted himself again, getting a better look at the Alliance-built tank. The M35 Mako was the designated successor to the M34 Blacktip and was designed as an IFV (Infantry Fighting Vehicle) was also possessing an anti-armour weapon, unlike the Blacktip, which focused solely on being a mobile artillery piece. The vehicle had smooth, white coating that secretly sported medium armor for taking punishment, and heavy kinetic barriers built into it to deflect any attack. It had a single rotating turret postioned ontop at the bow, which could switch between heavy machine gun and 155mm cannon at the flip of a switch. It was a six-wheeler, and had iron grip, meaning it could practically climb up any surface, being designed as an all-terrain vehicle. Its bow was designed for ramming through walls, and had a passenger compartment inside. While cramped, it was suitable, and could carry an entire squad if necessary. The Mako was nothing short of a beauty, and James loved that they had decided to bring it onboard.

Unfortunately for him, Cortez saw him gazing at it lovingly, and decided to pick a fight with the marine, "Ah, Mr. Vega. I see you are giving our Mako a...appreciative look, over there," as James turned to the pilot, he did not stop lifting, but his face did contort in a frown as he watched the dark-skinned man look at him, having previously been gazing at his broadly-muscled shoulders before tearing his eyes away, and back at his console, a small smile on his face, "Didn't you take you for a Mako fan."

James, despite his exertions on the metal bar he was holding, choked out a laugh, "I've always loved the M35 Mako! Its got heart...you know?"

Cortez snorted, shaking his head as he gave an exhale of breath, "Oh come on!" the man seemed to sigh, stopping what he was doing to fully turn towards and face the man, "The M44 Hammerhead is vastly superior!"

James, this time, could not help his own snort, almost bringing up his fizzy drink he had been drinking earlier.  _The Hammerhead? He can't mean that piece of trash, can he? Sure, its got heat-seeking bunker-buster missiles that fire at a rapid rate, but what else does that thing have to offer over the Mako?_ "Get with the times,  _Esteban._  That thing's armor is made of tissue paper. At the least the Mako can hold up on its own."

"Ha!" Cortez chortled, "I'd hope so! The thing handles like a drunk rhino! No agility whatsoever!"

James shook his head, "More like a bull," he growled, but with no malice or menace to it, "That can climb,  _and climb,_ for days!"

"Only reason it can do that is because of its stupid, vertically aligned mass effect fields," Cortez stated a-matter-of-factly, like a science geek at a parade show.  _Nerd,_ "Jump, or stick. No speed. No lateral movement. Just...forward, back or up."

"Hey, with a cannon and armor like that, who needs to move?" James countered.

"Hey, if you want that, why don't you just stick with the old M29 Grizzly?" Cortez offered, seeing if he'd take the bait, and he did.

"Hey!" he stated, before shrinking back and pouting slightly, "I love that tank."

Cortez grinned, and James didn't like what it contained, "Ha! You would be the one to like grizzly bears, Mr. Vega."

Like a dolt, he took the bait, "Hell yeah!" When Cortez started laughing himself to death, he could only frown, dropping down from the bar above him, cracking his neck as he looked over at the pilot, who could not hold himself from his laughter, "What? What the hell is so funny?"

Cortez didn't elaborate, merely getting his laughter under control as he returned to work, looking back at his console, typing into it rapidly. James shook his head, turning to return to his bench when his eyes landed on a crouched form sitting against one of the support struts in the bay. Deciding he had nothing else better to do, he wondered if he should strike up conversation, and headed over to her position.

Keeling was currently in her civvies, wearing much of what Marcus wore; an N7 cap, N7 singlet with what looked to be a black bra underneath, sweat pants and steel-cap boots. Her skin wasn't pale and it wasn't bright white either; it was tanned, showing the places she had fought in. She didn't seem to wear any tattooes, and many associated with special forces commandos like herself, but she did have what looked to be a large scar swipping across her belly from what looked to be a knife. James, considering just how much he could see her wearing, found his eyes landed on her breasts, and particulary her cleavage, as she did have quite a sizable enough bust for him to take notice of.

She looked to be in the middle of patching her armor and repainting it; she had two buckets of red and black paint next to her, along with what looked to be a few scattered tools. Her chestplate was folded infront of her, helmet discarded on her left and currently holding her armor with an iron grip. Her steely eyes were focused on her task, and she seemed to either ignore or not notice him as he stood over her. Her ginger hair seemed to capture his attention however, and he also noticed the many freckles on her face and her plump lips; overall, she looked beautiful. Stunning. Amazing. And yet, underneath all of that, was a professional killer; hardcore N7. Alliance Marines, best of the best.

"Something you're looking for, Vega?" Keeling suddenly spoke, not even turning to look at him, "Or are you just going to stand there and oogle at me?"

Startled by her sudden question, he nodded erratically to show that he conceded with her question, "Yeah...I just wanted to talk. You know, marine on marine."

Keeling's lips seemed to twitch for a second, and she nodded, placing her armor on the ground next to her, bits of paint catching on her shirt as she stood up, leaning against the strut she was on, crossing her arms, "Okay then, Vega. What do you want to talk about?"

"Maybe your past?" James asked, crossing his own arms, "You haven't told us much."

"That's because it wasn't mission critical," Keeling answered simply.

"Goddamn, you're like a steel wall," James quipped, smiling, "Is the mission all that matters to you?"

"Yes, it is," she narrowed her eyes, "If you have a problem with that, then this conversation is over, Vega."

"Okay then, Imy," he replied.

"Excuse me?"

"Imy. As in Imogen," James clarified, frowning, "That is your name, isn't it?"

"Noone calls me by my first name," Keeling declared, eyes flaring dangerously, "You will refer to me as Keeling, or Second Lieutenant Keeling, or Lieutenant Keeling. But never call me Imogen, and especially not Imy."

Noting the glare in her eyes, he nodded, gulping alittle, "Okay, yeah...sure. Keeling it is," he replied, sighing at his own cowardice.  _It's like they say, 'Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned.'_ Sighing, he decided to ask his first question, "Anyway, back on topic. Your past. What's it all about?"

"Very well," she coughed, bringing up a crate and kicking it towards him, and he caught it with both hands, plopping himself down on it. When he looked back up, Keeling was looking at him, shaking her head. When she finally spoke, it was rushed, as if she wanted to get it over with, "I'm sure you've heard of Washington D.C back on Earth."

"It's the capital of the United North American States," James noted, nodding, "But of course I've heard of it. Its in the District of Columbia, what used to be the United States."

She nodded, impressed by his knowledge, but not showing it, "Yeah, well I never knew my parents," she shook her head, "Memory serves me right, they abandoned me when I was four-years-old and left me to live a life on the streets. Eventually, I found myself living in an orphanage. It was a pretty terrible establishment, and the people there were a mean bunch, but I lived; I was a survivor, they say. Eventually, when I was eleven, I got out of there and went to live in the slums, and that's when I found myself up with the Tenth Street Reds."

"The Tenth Street Reds?" James quiered, confused as he popped an eyebrow up, "Don't think I've heard of them."

"Not surprised. They aren't well known," she stated a-matter-of-factly, "They were a street gang that committed all sorts of crimes; theft, grand theft auto, assault, and...even murder, although I never did any of that. At least...not until I took my first life when I was thirteen," she seemed to grimace at the memory, before shaking her head and returning to the present, "Either way, I found myself hooked up with them until I was eighteen. Then...I tried to leave to join the Alliance."

"'Tried' to leave?" he pondered once more, "They wouldn't let you?"

"As far as they were concerned, I was cheap labour for them, so they tried to keep me around. When I resisted, they thought it a great idea to try and rape me. For fun, they said," she seemed to cringe at the very memory, and shook her head to clear it, careful to not show any emotion that might ruin her steely exterior.

"So what happened?"

"What do you think?"

"They raped you? What the fuck?"

"No," she replied bluntly, clearly not amused at that statement.

"Then what?"

"God you're dense," Keeling exasperated, "I killed them."

"Whoa," he held up his hands, "You killed them? Just like that?"

"Yes. Every single one, with a shard of glass I found lying on the ground. I cut my chest during the scuffle, and it didn't help that the rain was making my chest wet. Made all the blood flow worse," she stated firmly.

"Wait, chest? Wet?" he frowned, "How...?"

"Well, you tend to get soaked when outside, in the rain, and you're completely...naked," she rolled her eyes once more, as if trying to explain this to a toddler, "I did tell you I was in the process of being raped, right?"

"Christ," James exclaimed, "That's fucked up."

"You're telling me," she sighed, "Anyway, I escaped, got clothes and joined the Alliance. Once I was a marine, I applied to join the N special forces program. And now here I am, an N7, fighting on the Normandy," sighing in relief, happy to have finally finished, she looked at him once more, "Happy now?"

"That's it?" he pondered, surprised, "No great feats?"

"No. I'm just an ordinary soldier, serving as a glorified bodyguard for Admirals until I joined the Normandy," she stated, "Nothing fantastic about that."

"Well, uh," he struggled for things to say, before finally coming to a conclusion, feeling like a bit of bragging was in order, "So...if you're an N7, you must have quite a good collection of fighting moves, right?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, confused, "Yes, I do. The relevance is?"

James grinned, coming to stand, "Why don't you show me some of those skills?"

Keeling shook her head, rolling her eyes as he moved to return to her seat on the strut, "I haven't got time to waste Vega; my armor needs repainting."

James crossed his arms, pouting, "Come on, Keeling. A sparring match, you and me. The stuff marines do. Besides, if you're such an expert N7, you should be able to deck me, seconds flat."

"If you're trying to appeal to my ego, you'll find that none exists," Keeling deadpanned, "I will not waste my time with you, Mr. Vega. I have better things to do."

"You're not the bitchy type, either," James noted, "Five minutes at most, Keeling. We've got no missions, and we're literally just waiting for the War Summit, and even then we won't be doing anything. I'm only asking to spar with you; besides, Loco would appreciate you and me sparring; you know, keep our skills honed."

Keeling hesitated for a second, nodding as she seemed to ponder it. Finally, her lips creased into a not on her left, and she sighed, finally conceding as she let go of the chestplate she had been holding, letting it fall to the ground with a clang, turning towards him as she wiped her hands on her already dirty singlet, "Very well, Vega."

He nodded, turning around and walking to the center of the bay, which was now empty, cabling having been removed and sealed away after the retrofit several days earlier. Turning back around, he cracked his knuckles, followed by his neck as he nodded, picking up his dogtags and letting them fall down the back of his shirt. Letting a hand hover over what little hair he had, he looked back up to see Keeling standing across from him, standing on one leg while cramping the other against her stomach, stretching it.

James, while he waited took a fighting position, both hands raised and one leg behind the other, eyes meeting Keeling's chest; his martial arts instructor back on Earth had always taught him that you should keep your eyes center on their chest, never their eyes; they eyes deceive, but with eyes on the chest, you will see every attack coming. Although it was becoming very difficult to do, considering her bust. Instead, he focused his eyes on her neck.

Cortez wooed at him, laughing slightly. James ignored the man's taunts, keeping his eyes down range. Finally, Keeling finished her pre-fight stretches, and in a flash was assuming the same fighting position he was; dog tags hanging infront of her, fists held up, one leg behind the other, eyes focused on his chest. Her steely eyes never ceased to catch his attention; how lifeless they looked, how utterly unrelenting. The eyes of a stone-cold killer. It chilled him to the core; and yet, she still held a feminine beauty to her.  _An uncanny hybrid._

"Lieutenant Vega, are you ready?" Keeling asked, lips seeming to move as if following commands.

"Lieutenant Keeling, are  _you_ ready?" he countered, a grin forming on his lips.

Suddenly, before either could move or start the match, there was a crackling of energy beside them, and Kasumi appeared, a large smirk on her face as she yelled in Japanese, but he easily recognized the word, " _Yumae!_ "

"Let's dance!" James exclaimed as he moved forward, fists shooting forward as he made his attack. To his surprise, Keeling didn't even move, she simply stood there, looking at him, Kasumi cheering her on while Cortez cheered him on. He had hoped to make her flinch, but seeing as that failed, he made an uppercut, hoping to hit her in the chest. She simply sidestepped his attack, and step-dragged backwards with barely a sound, and he spun to face her, eyes narrowed.  _Damn she's fast! I didn't even know she moved until I felt my fist hit nothing._ She still made no moves to attack, merely eying his chest with intense interest.

Without so much as a peep, he step-dragged left, then right, then forward at lightning speed, hoping to use his momentum to overwhelm her. But she was gone once more, letting a light jab impact him in the ribs, but it was enough to wind him for a second, and seeing he was about to topple, he rolled forwards, returned to guard position and turned back to face her. And there she was; making no attack, simply looking at him.

 _She's special forces, what do you expect? She's meant to be better than me at beating people up._ A long time thought hit him in the head, a job proposition he had been considering for awhile, but never took up on.  _Maybe I should become an N7. Maybe I should sign up to the N SpecOps program._

He stepp-dragged forward once more, this time attacking her with little, quick jabs that she had no choice but to block. But she did it with such fluidity and speed, that he might as well have not bothered. Deciding to quickly change tactics, as she didn't seem to be tiring, he launched one last jab at her chest, before quickly moving in and attempting a footsweep...

...one that was successful and, as he yelled out in triumph, he watched her fall to the ground on her back. Before he could move in for the finish off however, he felt a foot roughly connect with his chest, winding him as she used her leg to wrap around the back of his, and then used a 'scissor cut' motion, which sent him collapsing onto his belly, the marine cursing his gullibility.  _She let me take her down on purpose so that she could surprise me._

He felt a knee pressing against his back, pushing further into the steel floor, his cheek planted against it. Triumphant, she spoke, "We done, Vega?"

"We're not done until the other can't fight anymore," James retorted, and before she knew it, he had rolled over, using his pencil roll to knock her off her feet. She fell forwards, but quickly shifted into a roll, shoulder roughly hitting the floor, before she landed in a crouch, looking like a cat ready to leap. He got up and moved to hit her in the back of the head, but she spun around, her fist connecting with his jaw.

Wincing from the hit, he suddenly found himself under rapid assault as Keeling moved like fluid water, fists flying back and forth too quickly for him to defend himself. One hit him in the ribcage, another across the jaw again, followed by two more, and another to his chest. To finish off, she grabbed both of his shoulders and used them as leverage to drive her knee into his chest, before ducking down, avoiding his punch, driving her elbow straight into his left kneecap.

He cried out in pain, from the attack, before growling through his teeth as he landed on one knee, sending a punch flying her way. His fist connected, Keeling unable to strafe away in time, and she staggered as it impacted her shoulder. Taking advantage, he got up and speed tackled her, bringing his manly strength into action; wrapped his arms under her armpits and tightening around her back, he rushed forward and then roughly slammed her back onto the deck, feeling the wind leave the N7 as her arms instinctively straightened, using them to absorb the impact.

He quickly straddled her, legs locking around her as he looked into her widened eyes with a grin, "Shocked? What's wrong, don't like being beaten by a man? I've heard women don't like that,"  _Nope, now you sound like a sexist asshole. Better change that,_ "Well, I've seen women fight really hard, but-"

Something about the way he was positioned over her lit a fire into her eyes he did not see before, and for once, he saw emotion in her steely gaze; fear. Why was she scared of him? But then the emotion quickly became cold-blooded fury.

Before he knew what was happening, her teeth were sunk deep into his arm, and he shrieked loudly as he tried to rip her away. She let go, snarling as she wrapped her own legs around his neck and thrusted to the left, sending him wheeling off of her. Leaping to her feet, James had little time before he was roughly kicked in the chest, sending him rolling onto his back before another kick hit him square in the head, pain throbbing through his temple from the hit. When he opened his eyes, everything about her stance was hostile. She looked about ready to  _kill_  him.

He noticed that his legs were open, but not before the N7 and, too late, he tried to close them, only for a female leg to weave its way in at high speed, slamming into his groin.

He screamed in agony, hands reflexively shooting towards his groin to protect it, holding them to dear life; god he must have looked pathetic. He raised his fist weakly, trying to hit her as she descended upon him, but she swatted it away like it was an annoying insect, her legs wrapping around his hips tightly in the same way he had done to her before, her hands landing on the deck before him, leaning over him, dogtags spilling into his face. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but notice that he was being treated to a fantastic view of her cleavage, and tried desperately to rip his eyes away as her teeth remained bared at him.

Luckily enough, a cold-steel knife being brandished at his throat by said woman was enough to discourage him from looking at her breasts and his eyes meeting hers with fear. He tried to escape her grip, but it was no use, her grip was stronger than the ordinary woman, and her knife remained at his throat, her eyes filled with malice and the intent to kill him.  _Holy shit! She's fucking crazy!_

Just as she seemed about to slit his throat, a loud, harsh voice rang out.

"Keeling! Stand down immediately!"

Keeling did not respond, but he made out the words she was mumbling under her breath, "Strong. I am strong. Never again. Never ever again."

" _Keeling,_ " the voice was closer, more dangerous, " _Stand down._ That wasn't a request, that was an order. Drop the knife."

"No!" she snarled, leaping off of James' body and rushing with lightning speed at the person growling at her, "Never again! NEVER AGAIN! You WILL NOT USE ME LIKE THAT! NEVER AGAIN!"

James, flabbergasted, merely watched the knife descend upon Marcus, only for its downward cresent to cease as the supersoldier grasped her wrist. She hooked him across the jaw, and he let go, but before she could drive it into her neck, a burst of biotic blue sent her reeling back slightly.

"Keeling, I'm giving you one last chance," the spectre growled dangerously, and James felt a pair of arms wrap around him, dragging him away, Kasumi whispering into his ear.

"Gotta get you out of here. Shep'll deal with this."

_"No!" she snarled, leaping off of James' body and rushing with lightning speed at the person growling at her, "Never again! NEVER AGAIN! You WILL NOT USE ME LIKE THAT! NEVER AGAIN!"_

Her voice rang in his head, and he tried to grasp at why she would yell like that. The unflappable Keeling, and now she was a snarling monster.  _What the hell is wrong with her?_

Keeling wiped her mouth, snarling. Marcus took a step forward, but she stepped backward, brandishing her knife professionally, "No! Don't you fucking touch me! Go stick your prick in some other girl, but not me! YOU WON'T TOUCH ME! I'll rip your fucking throat out first!"

_Go stick your prick in-? Oh shit, I know what's going on..._

He turned to Marcus, "Loco! She's delirious! She's having flashbacks!"  _This is all because I straddled her isn't it? It must have brought memories back from the past...when they tried to rape her...shit! Why did I have to be so fucking stupid!_

Marcus nodded to him, turning around, holding out his hands in peace, "I understand what you're going through Keeling, but I'm not who you think I am. I am Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, your commanding officer, and I'm  _ordering_ you to drop the knife before someone gets hurt. I don't want to hurt you, but I won't let you harm my crew either.  _Drop it._ " As soon as he was finished, an uncomfortable silence descended upon them, and all eyes were on Keeling, to see what she would do next.

James just looked at her, her beautiful, female quality with a tad bit of soldier now replaced by a rabid animal looking to kill, to maim. She looked hateful, distrustful and absolutely paranoid, unable to comprehend where she was, imprisoned by memories from the past.

"I will not stand down,  _Shepard,_ " Keeling growled, "You are not-"

"Enough of this, primitive."

Before anyone knew what was going on, Javik closed his eyes and grasped both of Keeling's shoulders, and the N7 stopped moving, her tense arms and body ceasing all movement and knife falling from her grip. Liara used her biotics to pick up the knife and toss it at Marcus, who deftly caught it. James got to his feet, slowly approaching the two of them as Javik broke away, Keeling's eyes opening as she staggered.

"You have dark past, but you are a survivor. That is good. You were raped," Javik noted, six eyes examining the woman, a smile creasing his face, "No, they  _tried._ But you killed them; that is good. In the Empire, rape was punishable by being fed to rachni. You are strong. You were are not weak. You will survive this war if you are strong. You will survive."

Keeling backed away from him, taking deep breaths as cold sweat poured down her face. James lay a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and she whorled around to face him. He half-expected a fist to come with it, but she just looked at him, and she suddenly saw an inner child inside her eyes, someone who wanted to be held, but would not admit it. But that person who wanted to be held was dead; she died in the streets with the men who tried to molest her. A new Keeling had been born, and she was steely, unwilling to show emotion. For a moment however, that old Keeling had returned.

She became emotionless once more, and shook off his hand, turning to face Marcus with a forlorn expression, "I apologize for my behaviour, Captain. It was conduct unbecoming," she snapped a crisp salute, back to her old self in seconds, completely ignoring the prothean and marine on her sides, "You may punish me however you see fit."

Marcus returned the salute, "I will not punish you Keeling; just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Sir, I endangered a fellow officer. I could have killed him. Suitable punishment needs to be-"

"I've made my decision, Lieutenant," Marcus returned, dropping his hand, "Return to your post, and make sure it does not happen again."

"Yes sir," she returned, dropping her own hand as she pushed past Javik and returned to her post, dropping down and picking up her chestplate, returning to what she was doing before, as if nothing happened. James considered approaching her, but decided against it, Javik shaking his head.

"She is strong," the prothean noted, "But she must harness her rage and wield it against the Reapers. Her primitive human instincts got the better of her."

"Shut up Bugs," James scowled, using his nickname for the prothean, "Noone asked you."

Javik got the hint and left, followed by Marcus, who merely gave the retreating James a sad look, before he turned and headed into the elevator. As James returned to the armoury, he growled, gripping the weapons bench with a harder grip then he did before. But he wasn't angry with Keeling. Her reaction was understandable.

He was angry at  _himself._

_You idiot, Vega. You bloody idiot._

_You are a fucking moron._

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1327 hours._

_Bow, Karl Heather-Class Aircraft Supercarrier NAS Karl Heather CVN-519 , Moving Across Pacific Ocean towards Manchuria, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Earth._

_Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson._

The sea air bashed against his face, the smell of the ocean filling his nostrils as his body was jolted up and down as the Karl Heather-Class Supercarrier was rocked up and down by the waves of the Pacific Ocean, the biggest ocean on Earth. It had been a long time since sailors had smelt the salty air of the planet's oceans and been bounced up and down by its wrath; not since the Mars Archives were discovered. Of course, each nation on Earth; the Asians, Europeans and North Americans, each held their own conventional fleet of course, but it was nothing major; mostly warships from the 21st century, such as the obsolete US Nuclear Aircraft Carriers, Russian Ballistic missile submarines, and maybe the occassional destroyer. They had not expected needing its use.

They were deep within the ocean, a place the Reapers hadn't thought of when scouring the planet for humans to harvest and/or kill; that, or they just haven't checked the ocean yet. Either way, they would be in Asia before the Reapers started checking the seas. The plan was for the survivors from UNAS could hit land fall in China and make for Europe, hoping to find more survivors along the way and form a sizable resistance force. Once in Europe, anything was possible.  _Maybe we'll head to Normandy. Bask in the irony._

He sighed and he twisted to look along the ship's side, wincing at the pain that shot up his chest as he did so; he had been shot before boarding the ship by a cannibal, and it was taking sometime to heal, and it never ceased giving him pain. As he looked along the hull, he saw the initials CVN-519, followed by the name 'NAS Karl Heather' sprawled next to it. Karl Heather was the name of the 62nd President of the United States, during the ending days of the 21st Century. He was also the last effective President of the United States, as a year later, the United States was dissolved and became part of the United North American States.

The ship suddenly jolted as a particularly large wave crashed against its hull, and he staggered back slightly, really not used to this ship of sailorship. He was a naval officer of space, not of the seas, and it was times like this that he wished he could have been fighting up in that blank void. It was better than being stuck on his planet.  _On Earth, you can believe you're the center of the war. But out there, we're just another front._

"Admiral!" he heard a voice shout out from behind him, and he turned to face them as they walked towards him, fighting to be heard over the wrath of the sea, "I didn't think I'd find you out here!"

The man's accent was heavily Mexican, demonstrating where he originated from, and his strides meant he carried himself with distinction. The man was clearly some sort of authority figure, and Anderson could respect that; especially if he wasn't of the hardass type.

"Neither did I," he replied cryptically, turning around, straightening his officer's cap as he did, holding out a hand as he did, "I don't believe we've met."

"Sheriff Barnes," the man replied, holding out his hands, in which Anderson's tightened around, "Sheriff Yanus Barnes. I was a police officer working out of Austin, Texas. Had to leave all of that behind in a hurry though; Texas was being overran by those giant spaceships."

"They're called the Reapers," Anderson informed, shaking his hand before letting go, swaying with the rock of the vessel beneath them, "And Earth is only the beginning. The Reapers are probably attacking Palaven and other planets all over the galaxy, even as we speak."  _And Shepard's going to stop them. If anyone can, he will._

The man creased his face in fear, shaking his head as he cleared it, cocking out his hip where a pistol hung from its old-style holster, "Maybe we should try peace talks, you know? See what they want. I heard they were holding negoitations for surrender in Cairo, Egypt; they've called for the leaders of United North American States, European Union (EU), Middle Eastern Confederacy (MEC), Chinese People's Federation (CPF), and the South American Protectorate (SAP) to meet there to discuss terms and surrender."

Anderson gave a grim smile, followed by a mirthless laugh, "Then the leaders have just sailed off to their deaths; the Reapers don't want peace, they want our leaders to come to them so they can indoctrinate them and turn them into their puppets; that, or harvest them, like they're doing everyone else."

"You don't know that!" The man objected, clearly not liking what he had to say.

"I do know that. A friend of mine has spoken to two Reapers. Heard their logic," he grabbed the man's shoulders, grasping them tightly as he shook him with each word, "The Reapers are hyper-advanced machines; their technology is light years ahead of ours; a full technological tier above ours on the Operon Scale. They view organics as weak; wastes of space. We are experiencing something they've been doing for billions of years; waiting fifty thousand years for us to evolve, before violently casting us down and exterminating us. They aren't looking for peace; they have no need of it," his eyes glowed dangerously, "They won't stop until Earth, and the rest of the galaxy, is devoid of life, or least all organic life, anyway." The Operon Scale was titled after a man named Jensen Operon, a scientist who labelled the first technological scale in 2052; Tier 6 was the lowest, and Tier 1 was the highest you could achieve. As it stood, the galaxy was on a Tier 3 level of tech, while the Reapers were Tier 2.

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair, "So there's nothing we can do? They refuse to talk? That meeting is just a trap?"

"They'll indoctrinate them or harvest them. Either way, they won't leave that place alive," Anderson stated gloomily, "It's up to us to defend what's left."

"We'll be landing in Manchuria two days from now at this speed," the man noted, "What then?"

"Don't know about you, but I'll be taking what's left of the UNAS military that I could assemble and cutting through Asia to Europe. From there, we hope to link up with some of the EU's, MEC's and CPF's forces and launch hit-and-runs against the Reapers. Destroy a few concentration camps, and if we're lucky, find a nuclear device, sneak it aboard a Reaper, and destroy it."

"That's it?" the man stated, flabbergasted, "We just fling pebbles at them?"

"That's all we can do. We certainly can't launch a major offensive against them; we don't have the firepower or the resources," Anderson stated clearly, turning to look back out to sea. Somewhere, along the horizon, was Manchuria, waiting for them, "But its either that or we sit idlely and let them destroy us. I for one won't make it easy for them; they'll have to fight for it, this cycle."

"I hope you know what you're doing," he stated, shaking his head as he too looked to the horizon, his look skeptical, "Cause I saw what they did to California. Its hell on Earth, literally."

Anderson merely nodded, sighing. But this time, instead of looking to the horizon, he looked up, and into the realms of space, where they could see the Moon high in the sky, nighttime falling upon them as stars twinkled in the sky. But some of those stars, many of them, were moving. And he knew they were Reapers. But Anderson looked past them, hoping to find the Normandy; it was an impossible hope, as it would be impossible to make them out. But he looked anyway, knowing they were up there.

_Do what you need to do Shepard, and bring the full might of the galaxy to bear on the Reapers. Give 'em hell, son._

And for a moment, Anderson was proud of the man he came to know as the son he never had.

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1349 hours._

_Unnamed Highway, Trisek'lok City Ruins, Tor'an Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Vanguard._

It calculates its possible entry point as it enters the krogan homeworld's atmosphere. Protheans called it Aralakh IV; organics of this cycle call it Tuchanka, home of the krogan. Yes. Information correlated, and confirmed.

Wind rushed past it as the incredibly intense heat of the massive star known as Aralakh beat down on the Reaper Destroyer's almost impenetrable armor plating, the wrath of its sunlight not willing to relent, even for a Reaper; but Vanguard was completely unfazed by it, the idea of pain, or any feelings whatsoever, completely unknown to it; an experience it could not contemplate.

Its legs were curled up underneath it, and any krogan were looking at the atmosphere would see the form of a massive fireball erupting through the grey clouds, a fireball that would then erupt into the form of the massive 300 feet tall Vanguard, red eye buried beneath foldable optical armor plates, followed by numerous other fireballs; by these weren't Reapers. They were debris. Debris from asari, turian and salarian forces that had been hanging in orbit over the planet; defenses the Destroyer had little difficulty destroying and reducing to pieces of floating metal. Most of it hung in orbit over Tuchanka, while other chunks got caught in its gravatational wake, and were pulled in to crash into the ruins of the nuclear irradiated city ruins directly below their orbit.

In a matter of seconds, Vanguard had closed with the ground, four legs extending outwards as its monolithic form crashed into the ground, shattering the concrete that held the highway it had landed on like glass, sending shards flying up in multiple directions, the ancient highway, unstable since the nuclear fallout that befell the ruins, finally collapsed, causing a domino effect along its entire perimeter. Behind it, two skyscrapers also collapsed, while another three collapsed into the ones behind it. Its legs, having absorbed the thunderous impact, which was likely heard from across the planet, began to push its body upwards, bringing it 'to its feet,' Vanguard letting out a roar; what sounded like an airhorn to others. The first Reaper to arrive on Tuchanka was standing up.

Armor plates slid aside, and the blaring red eye of the giant machine, like that of a Cyclops, began to examine its surroundings, taking in the ruined city; ruins that had existed long before the Krogan Rebellions a thousand years ago, and the Rachni Wars before that; since before the salarians had even uplifted the krogan; they had existed ever since the Tuchankan Nuclear War, one that Sovereign had observed personally from orbit, relaying it to Harbinger. A war that had turned Tuchanka into the wasteland that it was now; reduced the krogan from a proud race, to a species snivelling in the irradiated dirt it had given birth to.

Unimpressed, Vanguard raised one leg and swept it across, carving a path through the weakened structures of numerous buildings around it, time having made them as weak and brittle as paper, and they tore just as easily. Tapping into its built-in satellite system, it transmitted a planet-sweeper in seconds, giving it a detailed map of the entire planet. It saw all the ruined cities, the three wastelands of the planet: Que'k, Tor'an and L'vt, and numerous outstanding landmarks. But Harbinger had sent Vanguard on a very important mission, and he would see it done.

Their forces were sweeping across the galaxy, the batarian and human homeworlds cut off, the turian homeworld under siege, and the asari and salarian homeworlds threatened; but Harbinger had it made clear it had no interest in invading Sur'Kesh just yet, so the salarians were safe for now; instead, it was now making plans for their simultaneous invasion of the Ismar Frontier, along with Irune and Dekuuna; the volus and elcor homeworlds, hopefully, followed by Kahje, the hanar homeworld. Then, they would begin their assault on Thessia, followed by the Terminus Systems. However, like Sur'Kesh, Tuchanka was not on their priority list; the krogan were not a threat as far as they were concerned. However, recent developments left Harbinger suspicious.

Shepard was proving to be more dangerous than they anticipated; he was trying to unite the galaxy: a pitiful hope, but one that needed to be checked, nonetheless. And if sources from one of their brethren, a Tarantula-Class Troop Transport named Destiny, was right, then Shepard was planning a krogan-turian alliance; and there was only one way to achieve that, as Sovereign had taught them before its demise.

And that was why Vanguard was on Tuchanka; to launch numerous raids on its surface, while trying to determine where the krogan would attempt to disperse a cure from. But while it was doing that, it might as well shake up the resistance alittle; and with that, ejection tubes opened all over the Reaper's body, and orange strobes of light shot out from it and landed all over the planet; containing Reaper troops consisting of all those they had access to; human husks, batarian cannibals, turian marauders, krogan brutes and harvesters. Soon, if the campaigns elsewhere went well, they could add volus, elcor and hanar husks to that army as well, and maybe even some salarians and asari as well.

As Reaper troops deployed on Tuchanka, Vanguard continued its trek through the city ruins, trying to find exactly where the organics would go to deploy a cure. The best possible area. It knew the krogan would resist its trespass of their territory, and knew they couldn't resist the temptation to attack.

It counted on it. Tuchanka would be harvested like all the rest.

It would just take awhile.

**"And so comes the War Summit. That certainly changed the course of the war. But it also opened a new door in galactic history. A new chapter."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Tell us. Tell us how you got the turians and the salarians and the krogan working together. How you made the Krogan Confederacy possible."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Through a lot of diplomacy, democracy, guns, more guns and alot of Reapers. Add a certain crazy salarian we know, and you've got your history chapter."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Just get on with it."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, it all began with a War Summit on June 8, 2186..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You know it: the next chapter is the War Summit, along with those conversations with Cortez and Samantha I've been busting my ass to add. Also, that scene was Keeling I felt really good about writing; why? Because I never planned for it. I merely wanted to write a scene where Keeling beat the shit out of Vega for making sexist comments, and Marcus would laugh his ass off at it; instead, I saw an opportunity to open up Keeling's personality; to look at her dark past. I hope to make her a more interesting character as the story goes on. What did you guys think of that scene?** _

_**And Vanguard is on the prowl. Myron, none of your guesses were anywhere close! Yet again, its kinda hard to predict a Reaper POV, isn't it?** _

_**P.S: Yes, Vanguard is the Reaper guarding the Shroud in the game.** _

_**After the War Summit chapter, we'll have Priority: Sur'Kesh.** _

_**And yes, I finally gave you the glimpse of Tali that you wanted. I can't be solely focused on her, you know. xD** _

_**Keelah se'lai, troopers!** _


	14. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard convenes a war summit to get more powers involved in the UGC: its easier said than done.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWELVE:**

**BAD BLOOD**

_June 8, 2186_

_1414 hours._

_Airlock, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with MSV Warrior's Clasp, In Orbit over Mannovai, Mevaro System, Annos Basin Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI, Primarch Adrien Victus, Zaf Ristu of the Protectorate, Ambassador Xeltan, Assistant Zymandis, Ambassador Delanynder of the Primacy, Drell Ambassador Ahosfo Naat, President Weshra T'Ron, Dalatrass Linron, Councilor Donnel Udina._

There was only one thing Marcus could really think of during the moment that he spent standing there, his posture rigid as he waited for the decontamination cycle to finish. Well, two things actually. One was that he now  _despised_ his officer's uniform, and two was that he hoped this didn't start another war.

The War Summit had been finally called; and it was to be hosted in the Normandy's Conference Room, which was fair enough, considering Hackett, the defacto military commander of the UGC, had labelled it their flagship and mobile command center, meaning it would be the best place to do it; it had a stealth drive, and it could easily escape an enemy ambush. So here they were.

They were in orbit over Mannovai, one of the first worlds the salarians ever colonized after mastering spaceflight. It looked like a giant jungle planet, like Pragia, just without the perputual rain. It was one hell of a sight from orbit, and one Joker got to enjoy as the pilot sat idlely, as the Normandy would be in orbit of the planet for a bit; the Reapers had made no forrays or attempts to invade salarian space, and left the Annos Basin well enough alone, so they were safe for now. Just as long as the Reapers didn't get wind of the meeting.

The War Summit was alot bigger then any of them could have predicted; what had originally been just the krogan, volus and all four Council races, had turned into a congregation for practical every species in the galaxy except the quarians, geth, yahg, raloi and virtual aliens, the last three of which weren't even spaceflight worthy; and the raloi didn't count. But Marcus could understand why they were present; the drell and hanar were getting worried because they believed indoctrinated agents had compromised Kahje's defense network, the volus and elcor were frightened because the Reapers were pressing on their borders, and the rest were here simply because they were originally meant to be here. Udina had been a surprising pick-up, but yet again, humanity did need a representative.

Hackett hadn't been able to turn up, as they couldn't risk revealing the superweapon's location to the enemy, so he had tried to convince Marcus to stand in humanity's place, but he had refused on the boundary that he was a soldier, and not a politician; he left that to Udina. Nonetheless, Hackett told him to keep the human councilor in check, as his human-centrist agenda could ruin the whole meeting. The spectre agreed, and promised to keep him under watch. And so he did.

And so here they stood; a representative from the hanar, elcor and drell embassies, along with the leaders of the turians, asari, volus, salarians and humanity; and as Udina had said, 'He was now the most powerful human in existence...meaning I'm their last leader.' Somehow, he didn't like the idea of that man being humanity's leader, but Marcus wasn't about to complain; he was doing all the political work for him.  _Guess I understand why Anderson quit the position._

He shifted again, sighing as he once again had to adjust the collar before it choked him to death. He seemed ready to growl, which would attract alot of looks from the politicians around him, when Joker spoke, voice cheery as ever, "Hey Shepard? The decontamination cycle is done. You want us to let them in?"

Marcus nodded, turning to the decon chamber, still wondering who Wrex would send as a representative. Definitely not Grunt.  _God, I'd kill to see you two again; my unstoppable krogan band of brothers...or son, in Grunt's case._ He grinned at that thought, shaking his head, "Roll out the welcome wagon, Joker."

The pilot gave no response, and Marcus simply watched as the blue interface turned red, and then finally green, the two pieces of bulkhead sliding apart, revealing the occupant inside...or rather,  _occupants._ Apparently, the krogan weren't the only one sending a representative.

His eyes narrowed in a deadly glare, malice filling his eyes as his hand immediately went to his hip, ready to draw his pistol. He gritted his teeth in anger, memories flooding his mind. Torfan. Asteroid X57. Madi'Soi. Every single one pissed him off, filled him with pure rage, and if he hadn't been for the enormous restraint he was placing upon himself at this very moment, he might have ripped the man's throat out.

There stood Balak Uhtero, de facto Regent of what was left of the Batarian Hegemony, and he merely returned Marcus' glare. He was not only a slaver, but a batarian extremist, terrorist and murderer. He had been in charge of the batarian soldiers on Torfan that killed his men, had tried to drop an asteroid on Terra Nova three years ago, and had captured and tortured Kal's girlfriend, Madi, a year ago. He despised the man's very existence, and the last he had seen the disgusting piece of organic life had been on the Citadel, but now here he stood. On his ship. Unarmed.

"Captain Shepard," Balak growled.

Marcus didn't even greet him, but did not draw his pistol, "What the  _fuck_ are you doing here?"

The piece of shit  _smiled,_ and looked around at them, "To attend this War Summit, what else?"

"Get the fuck off my ship," Marcus growled.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"What is the meaning of this?" Weshra spoke, leader of the asari, her face covered in orange tattooes, "You cannot just tell an ambassador to leave! This is a War Summit! He has every right to be here!"

"He is a  _terrorist,_ a  _murderer,_ and a  _scumbag_ ," Marcus spat, pointing at the man, "And I will not have him on my ship as anything more than a rotting corpse."

"How primitive of you," Balak retorted, shaking his head, "It seems my assertions of humanity are true; you are mindless animals."

"We'll be sure to keep that in mind the next time we kick your ass. For the third...no,  _fifth_ , time," Marcus retorted, "Now get off my ship."

"Shepard," Udina piped up, and he turned to face the man, who straightened his three thousand credit suit, the man's brow furrowed, face looking aged, "No matter our greviances with Balak," Udina stated, and Marcus had a bit more respect for the man when he heard the disgust in his tone that was well hidden, "He is a representative of the batarian people. You said it yourself; we must put aside past alegations and convictions and unite together to fight a common enemy. You may not like Balak, and you may want to rip his throat out, but we need everyone united. Including the batarians, and Balak is their leader."

 _He could be replaced._ Marcus thought of saying, but thought better of it. Giving Balak one final glare, he gave a slow nod, before turning back to Udina, "Very well," but like lightning, he had Balak pinned up against a bulkhead, biotics alight and growling through his teeth, "But if you make just  _one move_ or say  _one word_ that I don't like, I'll use your blood to repaint the walls. Do you understand me?"

Balak simply glared back at him, and for a second, it looked like he would make some snarky remark and Marcus would have to kill him. Instead, he slackened, let his hands fall to his side and gritted his teeth, "Very well,  _human_."

The spectre released his grip on the batarian and backed away, letting him fall to his feet as he reshaped his uniform, smoothing it out. Marcus nodded to the others, and was about to turn to the airlock when he heard and saw Linron gasp, and before he could turn to fully face what she gasped at it, a raspy voice that he knew and loved came from the airlock.

"Well Shepard," the voice came, a noticable grin recognizable from its comedic tone, "I see you still don't enjoy taking shit from people. The one thing I loved most about you; killing pyjaks."

He turned fully, a large smile on his face, and he saw the crocodilian grin on the krogan extend as well as he stood there, only just looming over him, "Wrex!"

"Shepard!" the krogan moved forward, sweeping him up into a bone-crushing, brotherly hug. Marcus, as always, was left wheezing for breath, but Wrex waved it off, knowing just how strong he was, and slapped him on the back, chortling, "Its good to see you again, Shepard."

"You're the last person I expected to be here," the N7 replied once he had his breath under control, "I expected a krogan ambassador, but not you Wrex! Don't be wrong, its great to see you, but don't you have a clan to run?"

"Yeah," the krogan muttered, "Come to think of it, better not make a habit of these visits. There's only so much trust I can put into that pyjak Wreav. Besides, the Reapers should be enough motivation to keep him in check; that, and my wrath if he doesn't. But hey, I helped you defeat the Shadow Broker, and I'm definitely going to help with these peace talks. About time, too."

"Noone informed me we'd be negoitating with a krogan!" Linron protested, her voice rising in crescendo and irritation.

Wrex turned to her, shaking his head, blood red eyes, always intimidating, locking with hers and causing her to shrink back slightly before he turned back to Marcus, shrugging, "I don't like her already; she seems preachy. Annoying. Like a pyjak. And I crush pyjaks."

"Now now Wrex," Marcus shook his head, "Be a good krogan. I need all these delegates in one piece, including the dalatrass."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Wrex asked, slamming his chest with an armoured fist, "Let's get this War Summit over and done with. We have alot to discuss, do we not? Galactic affairs and what not."

"We solemn agreement: this War Summit is of utmost importance," agreed Xeltan, ambassador for the elcor, the man's hulking, four-legged form hanging in the background, featureless face devoid of the emotion it couldn't show, "With absolute terror: our existence depends on it."

"Then shall we head to the Conference Room?" Victus piped up, and all eyes turned on him. Marcus gave a brief nod of approval, and everyone within the corridor began to shuffle away and towards the conference room on the left.

The security checkpoint, as usual, was a pain in the ass, but they eventually got past it, and everyone filed into the room, and around the table they assembled. By the time everyone was inside, Marcus and Udina were at the end, Victus and Zaf Ristu at the other end, Wrex, Delanyder and Zymandis and Xeltan on the left and Weshra, Balak, Ahosfo and Linron on the right, the void of space observable on the right through the observation room. There was a few shuffles before silence finally descended upon them, and in that time, Marcus got a good look at all of them, examining their features.

Zaf Ristu didn't have any notable features that distinguished him from the other volus he had seen; like all volus, he was short and chubby, no taller than a human four-year-old, and looking obese to any other human was ignorant. They wore a full-body suit, but unlike quarians, they could not leave them no matter the circumstance, as they could only breathe in a methane atmosphere, like that of their homeworld, and any other atmosphere would cause their skin to literally pop and sizzle. Ristu's full body enviro-suit was lined with orange stripes, while the rest was the tell-tale black and white of most volus suits.

Xeltan, like all elcor, was featureless and could not show emotion at all, which meant they had to verbalize what emotion they were feeling, making things quite humorous. They were four-legged, moving around like a sloth, and a large arched back, which was a pale grey in color. Xeltan wore an extravagant green and blue cloth over his back, along with an equally extravagant head covering. Many had called elcor soldiers 'walking tanks,' as they were incredibly strong, but couldn't carry normal weapons, so they carried a single cannon, turret or rotary missile launcher on their back. But Xeltan was a politician, but an oddly well-built one at that.

All hanar really just looked the same, and this was no more prominant than with Dalanyder and his assistant, Zymandis. They all looked like floating jellyfish, with long stands of tentacles coming from beneath their body, and the body itself seeming to glow everytime they spoke, and when they did speak, it seemed as if their voice was echoing with every word within themselves; it was quite enrapturing. Hanar also had face names and soul names; these two's face names were Delanyder and Zymandis, but their soul name was private; only known to them. As for those two, they simply hovered there, nothing unique about them.

The drell ambassador, Ahosfo Naat, was something different entirely. He wore a leather suit, with a gold trim and seemed to have a large cut along his upper lip, giving it a rather disturbing appearence. He had steel-capped boots, and held himself with the same stature and respect that Thane did, showing a common trend among the drell; and while Marcus had been annoyed that the hanar used the drell for little more than assassins and military soldiers, he was glad that the drell at least got representation.

Weshra T'Ron, President of the Asari Republics, was a very interesting person. She was a Matriarch, and it was clear she had been born some time after the Rebellions, so she was well advanced in her age, almost looking like Benezia. But unlike most species in the galaxy, asari did not age physically; they never grew wrinkles, never 'became old,' never lost their sight, memory or motory skills, and never tired; they remained the same as if they were still young; one of the blessings of the asari and their advanced age, and one of their banes. Weshra still looked incredibly attractive, despite being 952, only fifty years from her death bed. Her eyes were a tough green, she leaned over the desk with weariness, gripping it with a steel grip, and seemed to constantly bite her lip.

And then there was Dalatrass Linron, one of many dalatrasi that formed the Salarian Union's government. Salarian government was very unique in that it had a ranking system; there was Secres, who were the lowest ranked and with little power, followed by the Reprats, who were allowed to vote, be elected, and so on. Followed by that were the Lower Netrasi, then the Higher Netrasi, and finally the Dalatrasi. Of the two Dalatrasi leading the Union, Linron was one of them, and their power was absolute; they even had pull with Councilor Valern, who, truth be told, was once a Dalatrass himself.

Linron was a female, and one of the first female salarians he had met that didn't involve him shooting at her. She wore a large robe that covered her entire body, with a large red line down the middle, while the rest of it was predominantly dark blue. She had slim arms wrapped in a black leather, and she wore a hood, which covered the female salarian's lack of crests like the males had, and her mouth was set in a firm line, giving Wrex a watchful eye. He found himself agreeing with Wrex's assessment of the woman.  _I don't like her already. Reminds me too much of Mordin before I convinced him otherwise._ Thoughts of the salarian professor sprang up in his mind, and he smiled momentarily before wiping it off.  _We miss ya, buddy._

He sighed, leaning against the table audible enough to let the whole room that social time was over, and he was speaking. Every eye in the room turned towards him, and he nodded, beginning to speak as his eyes scanned the room, "As of now, vorcha aside, we now have every single species in this room, as this War Summit intended," shaking his head, "However, it would seem the quarians would not be joining us today. They would be, but for reasons unknown, their Migrant Fleet seems to have completely vanished and is not responding to all attempts to contact it. So for now, the quarians will not be part of this Summit." He was careful not to mention the geth; having a krogan in the room was bad enough, he didn't need to bring up the idea of allying with the geth.  _They're already distrustful of Wrex anyway. If they won't listen to him, they won't listen to me if I bring up the geth._

"They are most likely all dead. Extinct," Weshra stated, as if knowing all the facts straight up, "The Reapers found them and destroyed their Fleet. Its the logical assumption."

"Knowing galactic communications, something like that wouldn't happen quietly," Marcus deadpanned, "We'd know by now. And if that wasn't enough evidence for you, then I'll tell you that reports from Illium a day ago say that the Migrant Fleet passed by their system and then vanished; that was the last known visual report. They are still out there."

"Pointless arguing about it *ergh* anyway," Ristu added, "The quarians *ergh* wouldn't be able to help us *ergh* even if we *ergh* wanted them to. They're nothing but *ergh* Beggars and *ergh* thieves. Their fleet *ergh* would be destroyed too easily for them to *ergh* be of any use. Best we *ergh* forget about them for now. *ergh*"

Marcus gritted his teeth, but Wrex only seemed to grin, shaking his head at the volus as he turned to him, casually leaning one hand against the desk, "Better watch who you call beggars and thieves around Shepard, little gas-sucker. His wife just happens to be a quarian, and my niece." As he spoke, his voice became a little bit more dangerous, until he was shooting the volus a death glare. The volus fell silent, nodding his consent. Marcus, nodding his thanks to the krogan before disarming the situation before the spectre could rip the bastard's suit open, turned to them, offering his final word on the subject, "So they won't be joining us."

Everyone nodded, Marcus turning to Udina, who began to speak, leaning forward, "The point of this War Summit is to see who will pledge their priorities to the newly formed United Galactic Confederacy or not. So far, the Systems Alliance is spearheading the union, and the Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack and Aria T'Loak's troops are committed to it. However, we all know it isn't enough. Everyone must pitch in; which is why you are here. You are your respective people's leaders, and we ask you what you would do," he waited, and seeing noone speak, he spoke again, "State your terms, and we will comply."

"This one believes that no terms are needed," Delanyder spoke, voice echoing, body glowing ethereally, "This one believes that unification is inevitable. It pledges its people to the UGC, along with its fleets, and armies."

 _Just like that? Wow, this could be easier than I thought._ Marcus mused to himself, inwardly cheering that the UGC was now strengthened by hanar support.  _The entire hanar military, and Delanyder just gave it away without a second thought._

"Your decision isn't without its merits," Udina complimented, "You made the right choice, Ambassador. Thank you."

"This one hopes it is put to good use," Delanyder declared, "As another gesture of goodwill, we will send our engineers to help with this superweapon you are building. They are not the best the galaxy has to offer, but this one hopes they suffice."

"Send them to the Citadel," Marcus responded, "I'll have Hackett send a few stealth shuttles to pick them up, but we cannot give you the exact coordinates. Our superweapon must remain hidden."

"This one deems this decision fair," Delanyder agreed, "My assistant, Zymandis, agrees."

The hanar assistant himself made no movements of acknowledgement, and Marcus stared at him suspiciously; he hadn't really done anything during the entire meeting, and simply looked blankly at the wall infront of it.  _Just what is he doing?_ His investigation of the hanar's odd behaviour was interrupted when Ahosfo spoke up, hands still clasped behind his back.

"The drell pledge their support as well," the ambassador declared, "We cannot do much, but the drell will do all they can for the UGC to put an end to the Reaper menace that threatens all our worlds. The Drell will join the UGC, and all our soldiers and assassins will be yours to command."

"The UGC thanks the drell and hanar of the Kahje Primacy for their added support," Udina stated clearly, nodding to both parties, "You're contribution to the war effort will not be worthless. We also ask that any drell engineers you have, if they exist, be added to the superweapon project."

Marcus merely nodded, showing his approval.  _So now the humans, hanar and drell are united. But it's not enough. The hanar and drell aren't much on their own; we need the major players. We need the Council races._

All eyes in the room turned on Xeltan, apparently designating him as the one who would speak next. To the elcor's credit, he didn't seem at all surprised at this, and began to speak in the dull monotone that no elcor could help using, "With grim melancholy: the elcor of Dekuuna have deemed the situation desperate. With solemn declaration: the elcor have no choice but to commit our forces to your UGC. This alliance is the only thing that will save Dekuuna."

"So Xeltan, you agree to merge the elcor military, all your fleets and armies, to the UGC armada? And all your available enginers to the superweapon project?" Udina asked to clarify.

"With absolute determination: yes," Xeltan answered simply, and Marcus inwardly cheered.  _Yes. Now we have the hanar, drell and elcor. The UGC's growing quickly._

"Excellent," all eyes came to land on Balak, "How about you, Regent? Will the Hegemony merge with the UGC? We understand your people were the worst hit."

Balak seemed to sneer at the very idea of having to socialize with a human, but nodded, hands clasping behind his back in a pathetic attempt to achieve one's own dignity, "Unlike the rest of you," the batarian spat, "The batarian people will not join this foolish conglomerate blindly; we  _do_ have terms."

"Get in line," Wrex growled back, and the batarian seemed to glare at him momentarily before realizing the futility of trying to intimidate a krogan, and backed off, looking back at Udina and Marcus, who seemed alot more attractive to his eyes now.

Marcus nodded, responding for Udina, "Spit it out, Balak. This War Summit is not a bandy of words, if you have any grudges, I suggest you get them off your chest."

"Its very simple, Shepard," Balak sneered, seeming to smile smugly, "Your head, for our men and ships."

"Excuse me?" Marcus replied almost instantly, fingers digging into the table's surface as everyone now looked at Balak, including Wrex, who's look seemed to have gotten very dangerous all of a sudden.

"Do not think the Hegemony has forgotten what you did to the Bahak System," Balak spat, slamming a fist on the table, "You murdered three hundred thousand of our people, and we demand justice!"

"The Reapers murdered thousands more than I did and are still doing so," he countered, "Yet you don't cry for their heads; admit it Balak, you simply see Bahak as an excuse to finally justify having me dead. I destroyed the Alpha Relay to save the galaxy and buy us time; not my fault your people, and the Council, squandered it."

"I don't care why you did it, and neither do my people. Its your corpse, or no batarians," Balak replied, smug as ever.

"Very well then."

"You'll give us your head?"

"I never said that," the captain replied, giving him a blank look, "It just means the UGC will have to do without you."

Everyone looked at him suddenly with looks of shock, including Wrex, who had looked about ready to throw Balak out an airlock. Balak sputtered, narrowing his eyes further at the man before him.

"You need the Hegemony. The UGC needs us."

The spectre shrugged, "You're a battered people with a battered military and retarded leadership who wastes time trying to get vengeance for something that happened six months before thousands of sentient starships came to try and murder every living being in the galaxy. I don't see what use you'd provide to the UGC. If anything," his voice became a growl as the table groaned from the pressure of being gripped so hard, "You'll join just to  _survive_."

All four of the batarian's eyes seemed to widen instantly, rage entering them as he regarded the human before him, "You  _dare_  to suggest that I'll-"

"You'll either do that or fight the Reapers alone, Balak. But do not think I'll stop fighting the Reapers and sacrifice my life to satisfy your pathetic bloodlust," he slammed a fist on the table, causing the regent to wince, "You either start working with us humans cooperatively, or you can get off my ship. You best make the right choice. Which will it be Balak? Would the batarians like to take on the Reapers single-handedly? Finish the job for them?"

The batarian leader was silent for a few moments, and everyone waited on him for an answer. His mouth remained set in a firm line, and as his lips slowly split, showing his sharp canine teeth, he snarled, nodding as he looked away from him, "Fine! Our fleets...and armies, are yours!"

Marcus nodded, "Excellent choice, Balak. See that you haven't made the wrong one." Balak made him no mind and made no response, the batarian resigning to remaining silent for the rest of the Summit meeting; but it did not matter. The UGC now possessed the full might of the Batarian Hegemony, how little left there was of it, and could move forward. And in a few moments, all eyes landed on Zaf Ristu; that is, tried to find him, as he was smaller than the table was high.

The volus spoke with dignity at least, refusing to acknowledge everyone's attempts to look at him, "The Volus Protectorate of *ergh* Irune will not be joining the UGC. Our economic, political and military might lay behind *ergh* the turian hierarchy. Without their military *ergh* support, we are helpless."

Victus nodded, "The volus are bound to us by the Treaty of Irune; the protectorate between us means that the turian empire provides what the volus lack in military, and what we lack in economic wisdom. In return, we gave them a dreadnought of our design and they took it as the flagship of their bombing fleet; they call it the VPS Kwunu. It was recently upgraded with a thanix cannon, coincidentally. But the other part of the agreement was that the volus would only go to war if the turians fought with them or provided support, which means they won't pledge support until we do," the Primarch stated, meeting Marcus' eyes directly. Marcus knew what he meant.

 _The turians want krogan support before they merge with the UGC, and the volus want turian support before they merge with the UGC. Which means to get the volus, we need to get the krogan respectively. I can't argue with that package._ The volus were economical marvels, which meant being in bed with them would get them the resources needed to construct their superweapon. Turian and krogan military support would also bolster their forces expodentially; and they could get it all with just one turian-krogan coalition.  _This might actually work out._

"Very well," Udina replied solemnly, turning to Weshra.  _Finally, now to get to the real meat of it._ "What say the Asari Republics? You have been rather quiet President T'Ron."

"I have been pondering," Weshra replied, and after what seemed to be a moment of thought, she shook her head, "And I have come to the conclusion that I cannot pledge the Republics to this UGC; it seems like a cause doomed to fail. I mean, a krogan-turian coalition? Impossible. We're talking thousands of years of base-born hatred. Its too farfetched, and what seems more ridiculous is this superweapon of yours; how can we even trust it, and should we? It could be a Cerberus trap," with a final sigh, she stepped away, crossing her arms, "There are just too many variables. No, the asari shall remain on the sidelines with this."

Marcus cursed her inwardly, but did not voice his opinion.  _The asari are the most advanced species in the galaxy; that, and given they are all natural biotics, and they would have spearheaded the UGC. Goddamn you Weshra! The asari will die if you remain on the sidelines! But it looks like she's not willing to budge, and I can't really judge her when I hardly believe in this superweapon myself._ Still, the marginalization of the asari hurt the UGC badly, and they would likely pay for it.  _Damn them all to hell. I guess I shouldn't worry; Weshra will come crying when the Reapers start pressing on asari borders._

"That's...unfortunate, President T'Ron, but we will respect your decision, nonetheless," Udina stated, not seeming to be troubled by this as he turned to look down the table, seemingly ignoring Linron for the moment as he looked at Victus, "Primarch, what say the Turian Hierarchy? We are all eager to hear these terms you've been discussing with Captain Shepard."

Marcus stiffened and shot a look in Linron's direction as Victus began to speak, watching for her undoubtably drastic reaction, "We have discussed the possibility of full turian support being pledged to the UGC, and in Palaven's current state, I have respectfully declined to merge Hierarchy forces with this alliance," he paused, and continued, "However, we have come to an agreement that the only realistic way we can see the turian military joining the UGC is if the pressure is taken off Palaven."

"And just how do you plan to do this?" Udina asked incredulously, ruffling his short hair, "This is no small feat to achieve."

"That is what Shepard told me, until I informed me just what I required. What Palaven needed," his eyes, in that moment, also turned to Linron, but then turned to Wrex, meeting with the krogan's eyes, "For turian support to be an option, I need the krogan. Urdnot Wrex, we call upon the krogan once more, but this time, we don't request for your support, we beg for it."

To the krogan's credit, he did not rant about how they were also needed in the Rachni Wars, or boasting about how he had a turian Primarch virtually begging him for help, but simply stood there, nodding. When the Primarch was finished, all was silent, and even Linron seemed to stop moving, eyes meeting Marcus' with shock, which quickly turned into distrust and disgust. He looked away, looking at Wrex, who was now looking smugly at Linron, face split in a large, reptilian grin.

"About time. I guess it's my turn?" Wrex asked, and the whole room remained silent, and he took that as consent, "Well, as for the krogan, we demand alot. I'd have brought a list, but I decided ranting about it might make things a bit more interesting," he winked at his spectre friend, who simply rolled his eyes, sighing lightly so none could hear him. Already, he could see Linron's mouth moving.  _Oh fuck me, here we go._

"The krogan is in no position to make demands!"

Wrex glared at her, his grin gone, and the table creaked as he braced against it, "This krogan has a name.  _Urdnot Wrex_ ," he snarled, eyes glowing with venom, "And I'm not some junkyard varren you unleash whenever you're in trouble," by the end of his sentence, he was now leaning over the table, with the table dangerously close to snapping off its support from the amount of weight being applied to its frame. He towered over the salarian, but she did not shrink back, merely crossing her arms, but Balak definitely backed away slightly, not wanting to be next to a ticking krogan timebomb.

Marcus tried to defuse the situation. "Wrex...that's enough..."  _Although I'd rather let you continue...I have a feeling Linron is going to become rather uncooperative very quickly._

The krogan nodded and shrunk back slightly, eyes becoming less full of malice and more diplomatic, Marcus having successfully abated his blood rage. Everyone watched Marcus with awe, much like the salarians had looked at him on Virmire, impressed by his ability to calm a krogan down, especially when on the verge of a blood rage; a nearly necrotic state they enter that pumps them full of adrenaline, makes them almost immune to pain, and immensely powerful. And he had stopped it. To them, he was the first diplomat there was.

Wrex, continuing with more normality in his voice, although he still eyed Linron spitefully, spoke once more, looking around the room, specifically at Victus, "Right now, I've got my own problems," he rubbed at his headcrest, sighing, although with a krogan's voice, it sounded like a growl, and almost every one flinched at it except Marcus, "A Reaper, Destroyer-Class, has just arrived on Tuchanka a day ago; like a precursor force for a much larger Reaper invasion, if the Battle of Arcturus was any indication," he turned to Victus, frowning heavily, "So why should I care if a few turians go extinct?" Marcus saw what Wrex was doing; he had already promised krogan support in the war to Marcus. He was testing the ground; seeing what Victus had to offer.  _Wrex isn't dumb. He's a great example of the intelligence some krogan can show. Their not all blood-thirsty brutes._

Victus shook his head, remaining calm and stoic despite the krogan before him, "Trying to draw out negoitations will get you nowhere Wrex; we don't have time for it, and Palaven does not have time for it. Just tell us what you want and get it over with."

"A turian willing to talk. I'm beginning to like you," Wrex complimented, throwing a glance at Linron, but making no comment as he turned back around, a smug expression beginning to cover his face. For some reason, Marcus didn't like the look of that grin, "I'll tell you what I need. What the krogan people need." He turned back around, this time meeting Linron's suspicious eyes with his own, the smug glint never leaving his irises. He looked at Marcus, grin widening, and turned back, "A cure to the genophage."

Marcus' eyes widened in an instant, as he was sure was the same for everyone else in the room. In all retrospect he should have seen the prospect coming; the krogan despised the disease placed upon them, and for them to properly wage war, they'd need it eradicated; they'd never replenish their numbers fast enough. But the fact that the krogan clan chief just spouted it out, infront of the turian Primarch and salarian Dalatrass no less, surprised him to no end.  _I back you, Wrex, but I hope you know what you're doing._

Linron's eyes widened to epic proportions, something he thought he'd never see, even in Mordin's shocked expression, and she took a step back, waving a dismissive hand, " _Absolutely not._ The genophage is non-negoitable."

Marcus, having had enough of that Dalatrass' crap, even though he had only suffered a minute bit of it, whirled on her with a frown, "Why are you so opposed to this, Dalatrass?"

"What are you, ignorant?" Linron countered, " _My_ people uplifted the krogan! We know them best!"

"You mean you used us!" Wrex replied, waving his own dismissive hand as the venom reentered his eyes, smug grin leaving his face as it contorted in anger, "To fight a war you couldn't win! It wasn't the salarians or the asari or even the turians that stopped the rachni! It was the krogan who turned the tide!" he slammed a fist against his chest in pride, glowering at her from across the table, the rest of the diplomats forgotten.

"And after that you ceased to be useful!" Linron seemed to sneer, "The genophage was the only way to keep your 'urges' in check." Much like Sparatus of old, she used air quotes to punctuate 'urges' like it was some kind of disease, and this only made Wrex's gaze all the more terrifying.

Before Marcus could open his mouth to tear the Dalatrass apart verbally, Victus stepped in, forever the arbiter, and turned to Linron, annoyance in his features, "Dalatrass, you may not like him, but Wrex is right," he motioned to the krogan in their midst, Balak going forgotten, "Insulting him won't change that, and you'll still be wrong in the end."

"I won't apologize for speaking the  _truth_ ," Linron stubbornly stated, turning back, turning to Udina to appeal to the human councilor, "We uplifted the krogan to do one thing: wage war. It's all they know because it's all we wanted them to know."

Marcus had enough, "In case you hadn't noticed Dalatrass, we  _are_ at war right now; one of the most decisive this galaxy has ever had," he pointed out, meeting the salarian's gaze, "If we lose this war, it costs us our existence. We  _need the krogan._ "

"That's exactly my point Captain," Linron replied calmly, "The Union made a rash decision; we turned to the krogan in desperation. It's the same mistake you're about to make today if you go through with the krogan's demands. No good can come from curing the genophage."

" _Urdnot Wrex_ is my friend. Not only that, but he's my  _battle-brother,_ " Marcus growled, "And he, and his people,  _are not a fucking mistake_ ," he couldn't help but not sneer at the Dalatrass, something she flinched at, having expected someone with cold reasoning, and at any other time he would have responded in kind, but this was a friend of his they were talking about, and he did pity the krogan.  _Out of all the species in the galaxy, the krogan and the quarians get most of the unnecessary hate. They are the strongest, and they will be what saves the galaxy_ , "The krogan have paid enough for their mistake. The genophage has gone on long enough."

Wrex nodded, turning back to glare at Linron once more, "One thousand, four hundred and seventy-six years,  _if you're keeping count_." He seemed to only say this to Linron, his hatred focused solely on the salarian female, and he couldn't blame him.

"It was a thousand years of peace! Safe from these... _brutes_ ," she spat, disgusted by the word.

The sound of biotics whirled in the air, and his fist contacted the table's surface, denting its polished surface and causing everyone in the room to jolt from the sound, including Linron, all except Wrex, who simply looked at the perpetrator; a very infuriated Marcus standing at the table, fist wrapped in biotic blue as it lay on the table, denting it heavily.

He practically growled his irritation, "Enough is enough, Dalatrass; I won't listen to anymore of your twattle, and I won't stand here and watch my friend be insulted when he helped save your worthless ass three years ago. Remember the Battle of the Citadel? You know,  _the first case of a fucking Reaper invading the galaxy_?" he shook his head, "That was the Council's fault mostly, but I won't go on pedantics; the genophage  _will_ be cured, and I don't give a damn if you like it or not."

To his surprise, Victus nodded agreement, "You're absolutely right, Captain. The genophage needs to end, and while I don't exactly pity the krogan, I will support it if it saves Palaven and in the bigger picture, the galaxy," his voice took on a solemn tone soon after however, "However, it would take years to formulate one; years we simply don't have. Palaven and all its people will be dead by then."

Wrex let another smug smirk cross his face and Marcus frowned at him as the krogan looked at Victus, "My information says otherwise. May I?" The question at the end was directed at him, and he saw the krogan pointing to the console at the end where Victus stood. Marcus gave a slow nod, not knowing what the battlemaster was up to. Seeing his action was approved, Wrex moved forward, waiting patiently for Victus and Ristu to move, before typing into the console there, activating a holo projector on the paned glass behind them, speaking as he did, "A salarian scientist, Maelon Heplorn, grew a conscience. He was on my planet, testing a cure on our females."

Marcus nodded, remembering the horrible things he had seen in the Clan Weyrloc base, "I remember. His methods were barbaric."

Images began to appear on the screen as Wrex uploaded video feeds from his omni-tool, turning to face it as he spoke, "But what you didn't know, is that other females  _survived_ his experiments." The krogan moved out of the way, and presented before them was a still image of what looked to be a containment facility, lines of thick bulletproof glass showing tubes filled with what looked to be numerous live, and well, krogan females, along standing behind the glass, looking down at the photographer inquisitively. Another few images were shown, some zooming in, others taken looking from other directions.

As the images flashed across the screen, Wrex continued speaking, elaborating his story, "So the Dalatrass sent in a team to clean up the whole mess," he seemed to growl, but noone was noticing at this point, "And to take them prisoner!" The images made sense now. The sterile clean walls...this was a containment facility these females were in, and there was only one place the Dalatrass would have them taken to...an STG Base.

Linron seemed to struggle for words, "Where did you get this?" Her demand turned into a stuttery excuse of cover-up, "It...It could be a fabrication!"

"Don't insult my intelligence any further than you already have, salarian!" Wrex shouted, shoving a finger in her direction, before pointing back at the images that were still flickering past. It left Marcus wondering just who had taken those photos, "Those are  _my_ people! They are  _immune_ to the genophage, and you're going to give them back!"

 _Immune? Wait, so does that mean...? Holy shit._ Marcus was lost for words, and barely acknowledged Victus' words as he arrived at Wrex's side, shooting the salarian a disapproving glare, "Dalatrass...is this true?"

To her credit, she didn't even bother admitting it, and cut straight to the chase, turning to face Marcus, "How will the genophage benefit  _my_ people? Has anyone in this room considered that while you've all ridden the moral high horse, as you humans like to say? What of the salarian people? So far, you've all presented your terms, but none have listened to what the Salarian Union wants."

Fighting fire with fire, he faced the Dalatrass, slapping a hand against the desk in anger, "How long do you think you'll last alone against the Reapers? Because if the Union doesn't help, or anyone of you, for that matter," he eyed the volus specifically, "Then that's how it'll end up."

Victus pitched in his own support, "And I'll be the last friendly turian you ever see."

Linron seemed to finally consider this a moment, looking down at the desk, deep in thought. After what took sometime, the salarian let out a long-winded sigh, as if recovering from a long jog, and stood up, nodding with resignation, but refusing to meet either of their eyes, "The females are being held in one of our STG Bases on Sur'Kesh. More specifically, at Alpha Site, the STG Headquarters."

Marcus nodded, and met Wrex's gaze instantly, giving a sharp nod as he made to leave the room, preparing to inform EDI of their new destination, although she had probably already heard. Just before he could leave the glass enclosure of the conference room however, Linron spoke again, voice rising in pitch as he came to a stop, "But I warn you Captain! The consequences of this will be felt for centuries to come! They'll-"

He turned, and practically snarled at her, doing what Wrex had restrained himself from doing, "Dalatrass,  _shut your fucking mouth._ Because I'm done listening," he looked up, "EDI."

"Already set a course Captain," the AI informed him, "ETA is one hour and thirty minutes."

Linron gasped, shaking her head, "You're not setting foot on Sur'Kesh! This will take time and-"

Victus this time responded for the spectre, "It happens  _now._ Shepard is a Council Spectre," he nodded to the N7 in question, "As an agent of the Council, he can facilitate the exchange, and act on their authority."

"Fine," Linron hushed, turning away to look out the window, "But I won't forget this, Captain. A bully has few friends when he needs them most."

"If that'll be all, you can now get the hell off my ship," Marcus spat, and quickly left, turning to Wrex as he did, "I guess you'll be hanging around?"

The krogan grinned, "Until the genophage is cured, at least. It'll be just like old times, eh?"

"Liara's back, as is Garrus. Joker's the pilot, Chakwas is the doctor and Adams is chief engineer again. So yeah, I guess it's as close to old times as it'll ever be," he smiled, slapping the krogan's back as they waited for the security checkpoint to let them pass, "Welcome back to the crew Wrex."

"It's good to be back," the krogan returned in full.

Marcus had a feeling everything would be alright.

_If only you were here, Tali. We're going to make history. We're going to cure the genophage._

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1600 hours._

_Harbinger, In Orbit over Palaven, Trebia System, Apien Crest Cluster._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Battle of Palaven._

_Harbinger._

As one, they watched; one nation, one vessel, millions of souls. They observed the burning planet below them, its every artificial resource being reduced to glass in their genocidal campaign of absolute extermination; every last organic being rounded up and either transformed into a husk, or being saved for the creation of a new Reaper. Their extermination was planned out and methodical; done in the space of seconds and enacted as they assaulted. They were unstoppable, and to organics, unfathomable. They were the sum of everything they could not comprehend, their work beyond their understanding.

They were Harbinger, the first Reaper, the leader of the Reapers, and born from the very species that gave birth to them; the very first organic species to exist, and they had extinguished it. They had been the apex race; the height of organic ascendance, and even they had not prevailed, yet these primitives continued to resist? It would only cost them dearly, and their efforts would be for nothing.

But as Harbinger hovered over Palaven, watching its brethren tackle the turian ships in orbit over Menae and wreaking havok on the surface of the planet below them, the first Reaper came to a simple thought, one that the trillions of souls that made up the Reaper consensus stood still to contemplate. They all formed around one name; Shepard.

Reapers did not feel fear. They did not offer mercy. They were emotionless, flawless in their devotion to the Galactic Harvest, to stopping chaos utterly and completely, and producing salvation to the organics that did not want it. However, they knew how to analyze a threat; many cycles had provided their own, a champion to unite them in the 'darkness', to give them hope for victory; they had all, so far, been harvested, but Shepard was different.

Shepard had killed four of their own, before the invasion had begun.

Shepard was a skilled diplomat, and he knew how to deconstruct a hostile on the battlefield. Time and time again, he had thwarted Reaper victory. Harbinger fully believed and  _knew_ Reaper victory was an inevitability; it was a matter of certainty, but that did not mean Shepard was beginning to become a serious threat. For the first time in the billions of years that the cycle had been going, the Reapers were uncertain.

Could Shepard actually have a chance at stopping them?

So as Harbinger connected with the entire Reaper armada, a mighty 422,389 ships, he began imputting new orders and commands; stopping Shepard was now a top priority. The Reapers understood that the human found strength in his squadmates, and killing them would weaken his resolve; they were now targets as well. The Reapers had, despite their best efforts, been unable to find the Migrant Fleet Sovereign had reported having existed, but considering quarian status in this cycle, they were not deemed a threat, and largely ignored; they would be dealt with later; for now, Harbinger wanted them focused on what the organics called the 'Council races'; asari, turians, salarians and humans. So far, Earth had fallen to them, and Palaven was within their grasp. He had elected to let the asari believe they were strong for now, and it was unwilling to commit forces to Sur'Kesh just yet. Vanguard had landed on Tuchanka to begin raids, and Oblivion had recently finished decimating the human colony on Theseus II, and had moved on to launching probing attacks against the volus and elcor homeworlds, successfully destroying the defenses around Irune. Harbinger had given Oblivion the forces needed, and they had launched their attack on Irune; it would fall in no time.

But now, even as Harbinger turned from the planet and made best speed for the relay, a small fleet was forming behind him, a hundred strong; a scouting party by their standards. The rest would stay and continue to attack Palaven while Harbinger took a hundred and attacked deep into the Terminus Systems. To any others, it would be an odd invasion, way out of established Reaper territory. But if their indoctrinated agents in the Alliance were correct, one of Shepard's companions, the asari, had a father, and to destroy Shepard, they had to lure him out. With cold Reaper calculation, they knew that if the asari's father was put in danger, Shepard would react aggressively and come to Illium; with him lured out, Harbinger would be able to finally destroy Shepard.

It was the perfect plan.

And it would not fail.

And so, the Reaper party departed the Trebia System, a new destination imputted.

Illium.

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1437 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for Sur'Kesh, Pranas System, Annos Basin Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

The elevator gave a ding as the doors slid open, omitting Marcus entrance into the Shuttle Bay as he stepped out and into the light. He had changed into his normal clothes, his N7 cap along with it, and jumper. The ambassadors had elected to stay onboard until the mission on Sur'Kesh was over, wanting to see if they were successful in their mission. Linron for different reasons, Victus because the Normandy was now his mobile HQ, and the others simply because they could. Although Zymandis had spent a long time interrogating him, which had given him an odd feeling in terms of the hanar assistant.  _He seemed very...pokey._

But with basically forty minutes until they reached Sur'Kesh, he wanted to at least do some rounds, and he decided he'd spend them with the two people he had barely spoken to at all; Cortez and Traynor. So here he found himself, walking towards Cortez's console, a little bit of happiness in his step. He gave a brief nod to Wrex, who was now situated behind some crates near where Keeling was located, the krogan when asked where he'd like to be, 'It's like old times isn't it? So its the old spot' and there he was, polishing his hefty claymore shotgun with a bayonet attachment. The krogan grinned, and Marcus found himself grinning in turn, before turning back to Cortez...

...only to stop in his tracks as he heard a sniffle, and the grin dropped from his face. Cortez himself stood at his usual console in the armoury, hunched over a console as he seemed to be listening to something at a low setting; and as he got closer, he heard a male voice speaking from the console, and the second thing he noticed was the sounds of more sniffles; the sound of Cortez silently  _sobbing._

As much as Marcus was trying to ignore what was being said, largely out of respect for the man's privacy, he couldn't help the last snippet of it, "-love you."

He could hear the sound of Cortez replying, to his shock, on the console, "What? No, I'm coming to get you. Just hold on. I'll-"

"No, Steve," the man replied, sounding sorrowful, "The whole colony is surrounded; you'll never get through, and they'll just take you too. Run. Hide. Leave me."

"What!? No, Robert! I'm not leaving-"

"I love you Steve, but I know you," the man named Robert replied, "Don't make me an anchor. Promise me Steve!"

The recording stopped, and he heard another silent sob, gone unnoticed within the bay, and as he drew closer, he saw a tear streak from the man's face to land on his chest, soaking into the uniform. The recording had stopped, and he seemed to be going to play it again when Marcus decided enough was enough.  _How can he torment himself like that? Whoever that man was, he sounds like he mattered alot to Cortez to have a recording of him. And to be torturing himself by playing it..._ He reached out a hand and landed it on Cortez's shoulder, squeezing it. Cortez seemed to jump from the contact, turning around, and Marcus got a full view of the man's teary eyes and dried, wet cheeks; he had been at this for a while, apparently. His eyes widened at the captain's presence though, and he hurriedly minimized the recording, snapping a salute, "C-c-captain! I'm sorry, I-" he sniffled, shaking his head, dropping his hand, "Sir, I can explain-"

He held up a hand, shaking his head, "No need to explain anything Cortez; everyone deserves a break once and while. But I am curious," he pointed to the console, "I...heard...the recording you were listening to. Who was that? Sounded like you cared alot for him...and that he cared for you back."

"He..." he sighed, turning back to the console as he braced over it, wiping his cheeks, "It's nothing, I should get back to work."

"Cortez, those who know me know that I won't leave until they let me solve their social problems," he crossed his arms, accentuating his point.

The man nodded solemnly, not even turning to him as he began in a mutter, slowly beginning to speak louder, "It was a recording from Ferris Fields. It...it was during the Collector abduction of the colony, just over a year ago now. I lost alot of friends that day. I..." he turned to Marcus, suddenly apprehensive, and he seemed hesitant at what to say but, finally, he closed his eyes, and got it out, as if to get it over with, and deal with the humiliation afterwards, "I lost my...my husband."

Marcus would be lying if he wasn't inwardly surprised by that.  _Okay then, I can understand his apprehension; even in the 22nd Century, the world isn't very accepting of his...sexual preference. I can't say I'm not one of those. But just because I disagree with it, doesn't mean I hate homosexuals themselves. From what I've seen, Cortez is a good man, and I'm not going to order him to get off my ship just because he's something I disagree with._

Oblivious to his thoughts, Cortez continued, "I grieved. Said my goodbyes. Made my peace..." he sighed, "It was never enough. These recordings are all I have left of him."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Marcus sympathsized, letting his hand fall from the man's shoulder, "You must have cared alot about him."

"He was afraid I wouldn't let go," the pilot stated, laughing mirthlessly, "But for him, I moved on...or at least I deluded myself into thinking I had. Watching these recordings over and over...it just shows I never truly did. That I'll forever be living in the past."

"Its worth hanging on to," Marcus stated, and when he saw Cortez's incredulous look, he shook his head, "When it comes down to it, when the last thing of the person you love is a recording of their last moments, do you take it, or not? I'd do it. Just to hear their voice again. It reminds of you of what they were like when they were alive, even if it meant they died immediately afterwards."

"You make a good point, but I don't know if the price is worth all the torment," Cortez replied, sighing as he rubbed his eyes, Marcus moving to the other side of the console to face him fully, "It just feels like I'm needlessly stabbing myself."

"In times like these, everyone needs a good stab or too. Pain reminds us we're alive, which is what Robert wanted for you, by the sounds of it," Marcus stated sternly, "Don't let it go to waste. Move on. And when he says move on, he means...well, if you find someone else..."

Cortez looked at him in shock for a few seconds before nodding, "Yeah...you're right. But I don't know. It doesn't seem right to just abandon Robert and start courting another man. I mean...it just feels like a betrayal."

"You can talk to Kasumi about that. You may not know it, but Garrus and her are a thing. And before that, she was on a vengeful quest to save the last remnants of her dead boyfriend," he slapped the man on the shoulder, "Kasumi moved on, use her as an example. I'm not saying you should move on immediately, but the option is there. If Robert truly cared, he'd say the same."

"I...you're right. Robert was right. I'll have to make it official at some point," he sighed. After a few moments, he looked up, a blind hope in his eyes as he met Marcus', "But if that were the case, and I decided to be with someone else...I...well..."

"What is it, Cortez?" For some reason, he didn't like where this was going, or the lustful and hopeful look the pilot was giving him.

"Forget it. Its definitely very insubordinate."

"Cortez," he warned, "I'm a very loose captain when it comes to regulation. Spit it out."

"Would you be interested?"

"What?"

"Would you be interested...well..." he pointed between them, "In us?"

It took a full second for him to comprehend what the man was implying and he almost gagged on his non-existent drink/food. He gulped, trying to clear his blocked airways that had somehow become blocked (probably from his shock) and he shook his head, coughing. Cortez suddenly became worried, and moved to grab the man's shoulders, but Marcus shook his head, finally containing himself.

"No no no no," Marcus replied, "I think you misunderstand Cortez."

"What?" the pilot responded, looking deflated and confused, "What do you mean I misunderstand?"

"Do you see this line on my forehead?" he stated, pointing to the faded black line on his forehead that he was careful to never wash too much and now it seemed to stick like a permanent tattoo, "Didn't you ever wonder why I had that?"

"I just assumed it was something you did," he stated, scratching the back of his head, "But how is this relevant?"

"That line, for quarians, is a sign of bondage. It shows that they have been claimed by another and are united in matrimony," he gave Cortez a sad look, although it was more for the pilot's sake, "Cortez, suffice to say, I'm married. Ever heard of Tali'Zorah nar Rayya?"

Cortez looked disheartened, but piped up in interest at who exactly had stolen the man's heart, "Yes, indeed I have."

"She's my wife," Marcus responded, "I love her very much, and I miss her right now so much that its almost killing me. This line on my forehead shows that I'm married to her in the quarian fashion," he then lifted his hand to show the ring on his index finger, "And this shows I'm married to her in human fashion. Besides, Cortez," he added in a joking tone, hoping Cortez wouldn't take offense, "I don't swing that way."

To his immense luck, Cortez seemed to faintly smile, nodding, "I...I understand, I guess. Not the answer I wanted, but...yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck, sighing as he stood back up, nodding, "Thanks captain, I needed that."

"You're more than welcome Cortez," he seemed about to leave, but suddenly stopped, turning back to face the pilot, "Wait, have you had time to bury Robert yet?"

The pilot stopped as he seemed about ready to return to work, and looked at him, shaking his head as his blue eyes met Marcus', "No, I haven't. I let my grief consume me, and in the end, I just focused on my work. Getting shuttle duty to the Normandy was really helpful. But now that I'm doing nothing...the memories just come rushing back."

"We'll be at Sur'Kesh soon," Marcus assured him, coming to stand by the console again, arms crossed, "After that, we'll see if we need to head to the Citadel. If we do, and once we dock, you can go to the Refugee Camp; I've heard they've added a memorial wall for you to add flowers and mourn dead loved ones. That sounds like the best place to start, don't you think?"

"I..." he began to speak, tripping up over his words, "I don't know if I can do that, Shepard."

"I'm not going to order you Cortez; its your personal dilemma. Only you can resolve it," the spectre stated, "Just know that you can. I know it'll be hard, but you need to put Robert to rest; move on like you promised him. I need you at your best Flight Lieutenant, and a man with regrets is a man who's dangerous." He hadn't meant to be so blunt with the last bit, but he needed Cortez to know that.  _Even one second of hesitation could mean our deaths if we need extraction. I can't have him hesitating like that._

The pilot took in an intake of breath, and slowly let it out, nodding as he did, "Yeah, you're right, Captain. You're right. I'll...first thing, as soon as we land, that's where I'll head. I...I think might purchase...s-some flowers first."

Marcus gave the man a firm nod and with that Cortez turned, heading over to the parked kodiak in the bay, all of a sudden wielding a welding torch, "Well, I better get to doing some maintenance on the shuttle. I think it took a few hits during our last mission on Eden Prime. Could cause problems on Sur'Kesh, not that I'm expecting a fight or anything."

"That's okay Cortez," Marcus replied simply, smiling, "I'm not either." But as he walked towards the elevator, something in his brain clicked.

_So why do I feel like something bad is going to happen?_

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1443 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for Sur'Kesh, Pranas System, Annos Basin Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

"EDI, how far out are we from Sur'Kesh?"

"We will be entering the Pranas System in twelve minutes, Captain," the AI responded, "It will take a further five to reach Sur'Kesh itself."

 _Seventeen minutes then. Better get the team ready then. And this time, I'm going in full. We won't need them, but considering how fast shit has gone south in the past, I'm not taking any chances. Hopefully this'll remain as a simple pick-up._ "Copy that, EDI. Inform all team members including Wrex; get to the armoury and tell them to grab their gear; I want the full team for this one, and no doubt Wrex will want to be there. Tell them I'll be down in five."

The AI's response was curt and to the point, "Very well, Captain."

With that, silence shot through the cabin and once more, and with a final look at his terminal, he sighed, standing up as he began to strip, heading into the shower cubicle. As he did, he mused at the empty terminal he left on; the extranet search query left waiting, but not sent. It was a search for news reports on the Migrant Fleet, but all it had come up with was numerous details on the Fleet, a Codex entry, and how many quarians lived on it and then it collapsed into bullshit, racism and anti-quarian propaganda, before eventually ending in the same sort of entries, except for Geth. But what he wanted was the latest news on it; where was the Quarian Flotilla, especially when the galaxy needed them?

 _I refuse to acknowledge that the Reapers destroyed them already. They weren't anywhere near the Attican Traverse when they first hit; they were way up in the Terminus. So where are they? Why haven't they approached the Council, or me yet? Tali, where the hell are you?_ By the time these thoughts had algomated, he was standing infront of the bathroom sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. All that remained was his pants, and he just stood and looked at the numerous scars covering his torso, and at the steely face in the glass; no, not steely...

...sad.

_"...I'll be back for you. And Earth. I'll bring every fleet I can..."_

Marcus would never forget leaving Anderson behind on Earth, but a part of him knew that the admiral was still down there, fighting the good fight, delaying the Reapers until Marcus could assemble the forces, complete the superweapon, and destroy the enemy. Marcus just wished it was easier.  _You'd think with the galaxy falling apart, everyone would leap at the idea of an alliance. Instead I'm racing to Sur'Kesh to help cure the genophage, so that an alliance can be possible. Everyone needs something._ But as he leaned against the sink, he knew deep down he'd have cured the genophage regardless; the krogan deserved it.  _They've suffered long enough, and the tactical advantages of krogan that can constantly breed more troops would be ideal if this war becomes more than a year long._

He was going to cure the genophage. With the help of the very people who birthed it. They weren't just writing history, they were writing it with the ink of irony.

With a final, long-winded sigh, he tore off his pants, stepped below the shower and turned it on full bore, letting the searing hot water touch and fall over his skin. At first it bit and stung, but he quickly acclimated to it, and found himself moving stray bits of beard and hair that slopped all over the place, whilst raising his face directly into the spray, drinking in and then spitting out the boiled water. It was heaven, and seemed to relax his tired muscles. He did this before every mission if he could help it, and it did wonders for his tired body.

Bracing one hand against the wall, he momentarily smiled, and turned to the door, mouth moving before his brain caught up, "Hey Tali! Come join m-" then his brain caught up, and the smile fell, body turning and blowing out an even louder sigh. God, was his cabin quiet these days. No laughter, no moans...not even the sound of talking. Just him, and occassionally EDI when he gave orders or Samantha when he came to fix a technical problem on his terminal. He was lonely as hell, and it always never ceased to eat at him. There were times where he wanted to sob in fear for his potentially dead wife, but he never allowed himself that comfort; to sob now would be to acknowledge defeat, and he'd rather die than do that.

The water got colder faster than he thought it would, and he realized he had been standing in there for a good four minutes. Turning off the spray, he stepped out, grabbing a nearby towel and drying himself off. Quickly wrapping it around his waist, he stepped out, moving over to his locker and grabbing his undersuit; the skin-tight suit he wore under his suit so as to make using it seemless. After putting it on, making sure it was tight, he moved to leave, but as he reached the top step of the second section of his cabin, he heard a knock on the door.

He frowned, coming to a stop as he blankly looked at the door for a second. He wondered just who would be up here.  _Noone comes up to my cabin; they just request to speak to me. Even Garrus waits until I'm in the Mess Hall to speak to me. EDI could just contact me through the PA, and Samantha usually requests permission to stand on this very_ _ **deck,**_ _let alone the cabin. So just who is waiting outside? Please don't tell me its Linron._

"Enter," he shouted, voice hesitant as he made the last step, moving over to stand on the corner seperating his bathroom from the rest of the deck.

The door shot open, and he watched the form of a hanar, of all things, come into view. He couldn't exactly differentiate between them, so he had no idea whether it was Delanyder or Zymandis who he was talking to, but he quickly found out as he spoke, "And you are?"

"This one's name is Zymandis," the hanar responded, "This one was present at the War Summit."

Marcus nodded slowly, crossing his arms, "Okay, nice to meet you in person, Zymandis. Did you need something? We'll be arriving at Sur'Kesh soon, and I need to get ready." It was only then that he noticed a glint of metal, followed by shifting plastic on the hanar's other side. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but his visual query was quickly answered when he suddenly found a carnifex pistol aiming at his head, pink, transparent slime that could only be hanar blood dripping from it.

"This one will not allow you to cure the genophage," Zymandis spoke, "The Enkindlers believe it to be sin, and punishes sin."

Marcus' eyes widened, and he held up his hands, trying to find out just why the hanar would be doing this.  _Cerberus doesn't hire aliens, and certainly not a hanar...they'd just send Kai Leng, so...wait, that only leaves indoctrination. Shit, Zymandis must be indoctrinated. Its the only way to explain it. I thought he looked suspicious._

"How did you get that weapon past security?" Marcus pondered, "The Conference Room has a security field, which acts a metal detector."

"This one was gifted with jamming signals," the hanar drolly replied, "It scrambled the scanning of the field, allowing this one access. As for the weapon itself, it was hidden in this one's stomach. Hanar do not require mouths, so one only requires a tentacle to enter my body, and retrieve it." The gun did not shift in the hanar's grip, and Marcus looked down, seeing it gripped by one, strong tentacle, seemingly hovering in place as the hanar looked at him. The hanar's explanation made sense; they were incredibly easy to kill because their bodies were like jelly; you could put your hand right through, like they were transparent.

"Okay then, very smart," Marcus stated, gulping, "But why do you think the Enkindlers would want this? The Reapers destroyed your gods. You should be fighting them, not me. Avenge your Enkindlers." It was common knowledge that the hanar worshipped the protheans, or 'Enkindlers,' as they called them, as gods, and part of that religion was the, now delusional, belief that they created the Citadel and Mass Relays, when it is now clear the Reapers did.

"The Reapers turned the Enkindlers into the ones you know as the Collectors. They were ascended to a higher form, given new life, and they became gods. The Reapers gave them new meaning. Without that meaning, we would be lost," the hanar preached, actually believing its crap, "The Enkindlers became the Collectors, and the Collectors served the Reapers. Therefore,  _we_ must serve the Reapers."

 _If there's stupidity of a higher form than this, than I haven't witnessed it. Even the Council's logic made more sense than this._ Despite the situation, Marcus couldn't help the words coming from his mouth, " _You..._ You  _big._   _Stupid._   _Jellyfish!_ "

Seemingly angered by this, the hanar prepared to press the trigger when Marcus reacted first, biotics flashing and his hand swipping the hanar's tentacle away. The hand cannon remained in Zymandis' grip however, and Marcus launched another biotic attack, slamming the hanar assistant against the wall with major force. The weapon discarded, Marcus moved to pick it up, but was stopped when he heard the booming voice of evil enter his hearing.

 _ **"Shepard!"**_ Harbinger boomed,  _ **"We will end this!"**_

Just as Marcus turned to the hanar, who had been the source of the voice, he suddenly found two tentacles wrapping around his neck and beginning to constrict, causing him to grab onto them in surprise. He coughed and gasped, his lungs begging for air as the hanar began to relieve him of it. He continued to try and pry the damn thing off, but it seemed to have gained unnatural strength from Harbinger's possession, and was now pushing him down against his desk, slowly choking him to death. But Marcus didn't give in, even when he felt the edges of his vision beginning to fade.

As his head bumped against the desk, he saw, out of the corner of his blackening vision, he saw the glass of his models case. Suddenly, an idea clicked into his head, and he was snapping into action.

His left arm rapidly shot up, and he braced himself for the coming pain as his wildly flaying arm slammed into the glass, shattering into tiny glass fragments with a boom. He could felt his body and Zymandis showered in glass, bits of it cutting into his arms, but leaving his chest alone, largely due to the undersuit. Ignoring the pain, he let his left arm fall and began blindly searching for a large piece of glass. Finding it, he found his purchase on it, gripping it hard, and sent his arm flying back, this time sending it into an uppercut.

He heard a bellowing screech and an alienated strangled cry as the constriction on his throat relieved itself. He coughed and swallowed, suddenly regretting it as he coughed back up what he had swallowed, feeling something cold and sticky on his face. Opening his eyes, he found his face coated in pink liquid; hanar blood. The screeching continued as he stood up, quickly falling to the ground as his lack of oxygen made him numb all over. He cried out as his hand landed on a tiny shard of glass, impaling it on the shard as he landed. Wincing, he tore the thing out, thanking God that the wound wasn't that deep, placing pressure on it with his other hand to stop the blood flow. Remembering his predicament, he quickly turned, ready for battle.

He needn't have bothered. Zymandis was on the ground, pink blood spewing from its body as it danced on the ground, tentacles flying as it screamed its agony. As Harbinger departed its servant, its last words seemed to echo through his mind, as they always did with the Reaper leader,  _ **"This isn't over, Shepard. Continue to fight, but know you will lose. The cycle cannot be stopped."**_ And then the Reaper's presence was gone, and there was just Marcus and the hanar.

The door shot open again, and Marcus found himself preparing for any backup; maybe Delanyder was indoctrinated too. Instead, he watched Garrus rush in, fully armoured and mattock heavy rifle in hand, Wrex and Liara at his sides, both holding a claymore shotgun and Tempest SMG respectively, both of the latter glowing with biotic intent. But as Zymandis came into view, they ceased and lowered their weapons, eyes landing on Marcus' form.

"I knew we shouldn't have bothered," Wrex muttered, holstering his shotgun, "Any pyjak dumb enough to attack Shepard will die too quickly."

"We had a quarian try something like this before, and he almost succeeded. Best not to take chances," Garrus returned, but holstered his rifle nonetheless as he came to kneel before the dying hanar, pink blood now flowing across the cabin floor. He turned to Liara, "Go grab a towel, clean this up."

The asari nodded, rushing over to grab the towel Marcus had hung up below, giving Marcus a quick once over before doing so, alleviating any concern she had, holstering her SMG as she did.

Wrex moved to Marcus, grinning, looking at the bloodied hand Marcus was holding, "You cut yourself?" he looked at the glass littering the floor from the case, also noticing the few models that had either exploded outwards from Marcus hitting it and hitting the sofa, or simply falling onto his desk, "Good thing you have regeneration, then. And I know you at least have that."

"Yes, thanks Wrex. I do remember," the spectre deadpanned, shaking his head, "And I'm okay, thanks for asking."

"You'll get over it," the krogan grumbled, turning to Garrus, who was turning the now dead Zymandis over, "Get anything from the pyjak?"

"What, you mean this?" the turian waved the shard of glass in the air, shaking his head, tossing it to the ground as he stood up, lightly kicking the dead hanar's body, "Yeah, sure. Apart from that though, all we've got is a dead hanar. What exactly happened? EDI told us the hanar assistant attacked you."

"He was indoctrinated," the N7 explained, walking over and kneeling over the hanar's body himself, seeing it was now completely lifeless, "Reapers must have ordered him to try and assassinate me. Harbinger possessed him, and he pulled a pistol; smuggled in by hiding it  _inside_ his own body. He was choking me to death, so the only way to kill him I could find was to break the glass, grab a shard, and stab him with it. Guess it worked."

"Thanks spirit for that. It'd be embarassing for you if the one thing that finally killed you was a lucky hanar  _assistant_ ," Garrus quipped, but suddenly his grin dropped, realizing something, "Wait, if Zymandis was indoctrinated, then what about-"

Just as Liara arrived and began to mop up Zymandis' blood, Chakwas' voice came over the comm, sounding grim, "Shepard, we have a problem in the Crew's Quarters. You better get down here immediately."

Marcus' eyes and Garrus' met in an instant, and they practically dove into the elevator, hitting the button for the Crew Deck almost spastically. They wanted for a bit until it finally arrived, both shooting out, Marcus' bleeding hand almost completely ignored as they burst into the quarters. What they found caused them to stop, and for Marcus to loudly curse to himself as he saw who Chakwas was kneeling over.

It was Delanyder. His pink blood seeped through the bunks and leaked over the floor, and some of it looked dried; meaning he had been dead for at least a few minutes. His body was just as cold as Zymandis' cadaver, with the usualy perputual glow now gone, three of his tentacles lying on the ground, having been cut off. Chakwas shook her head sorrowfully at him, and Marcus quickly left the room, backing into a wall as he slid to the ground, taking slow deep breaths. He simply eyed the closed door, unbelieving. The hanar ambassador had been murdered, and his murderer now lay dead in the Captain's Quarters.

The door opened again, Chakwas stepping outside and coming to stand over him, taking her gloves off, "He was already dead when I arrived, Captain. I was coming to talk with Adams; we had planned to have dinner together. I clocked off early, and when I went to prep the table, that's what I found in the corner. The blood was still fresh, so he had only been killed a minute before I arrived. I don't know who was behind it, however."

"Zymandis," he answered for her, and before she could ask how he knew that, he shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly, "How do I know? He now lies dead in my cabin, having tried to do the same thing to me. He was indoctrinated, had a pistol, and basically waltzed right onto my ship. An indoctrinated agent of Harbinger. Now we have one dead ambassador, and no testimony."

"We have yours," Chakwas bluntly replied. But before she could ask any further, she saw his bleeding hand, his pulse causing it to bubble out incessantly, and she was next to him in seconds, applying medi-gel to the wound, "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Seemed like the least of our worries," Marcus drolly replied. The doctor scowled at him, but before she could give him a verbal lashing, EDI's voice spoke over the PA, directed at him.

"We are now in system, Captain," the AI declared, "ETA to Sur'Kesh is five minutes."

"Copy that. Tell Garrus, Wrex and Liara to meet me in the Shuttle Bay," he ordered, moving to stand as the medi-gel began to set in, "I'll be down in a moment to collect my gear."

Chakwas immediately tried to force him back down, but he ignored her objections as he began to head for the elevator. She shouted out from behind him, "Just where do you think you're going? You need to rest."

"From a cut in the hand? Please Chakwas, I'm not even a doctor, and I know bullshit. I'll walk it off," he turned to her just before entering the elevator, Garrus quickly reappearing to join him, "I need to be down there on Sur'Kesh to keep Wrex calm if the salarians piss him off, and to see the female krogan escorted safely offworld."

"'Escorted safely?' You're going to STG HQ. Noone will attack you there except STG, and they have no reason to do so," she growled, hands on her hips, "What trouble are you expecting?"

He grinned slightly, despite the situation, as he always managed to do, "I drag danger behind me like an incessant virus, Chakwas. Explosions and gunshots are my forte, remember? I can practically smell something about to happen; that's why I'm bringing the full squad. Nonetheless, we should be back soon, if I'm wrong."

"See Chakwas?" Garrus responded, a smirk on his mandibles, "He can learn. He has embraced the inner-psycho inside of him. Now he's got a Mako to embrace it with too."

"You get in the elevator, dino," Marcus hissed, mostly out of mirth as he followed behind him, "Chakwas is scolding me enough. Don't need you fueling it."

And then the elevator door closed, and they descended to the armoury and to head down to the salarian homeworld. And if all things went alright, they'd be out fine, dead hanar ambassador and assassin alike, not counting.

That's if, which isn't likely by Marcus' luck, a few explosions weren't involved.

**"So now you went down to Sur'Kesh?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes. We went down there to recover the female krogan, bring her offworld, and then begin formulating a cure with some of the Union's top scientists. That was the plan anyway. Of course, I was right. Explosions were to follow."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What happened down there on the salarian homeworld?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Peace, then noise. I'll elaborate..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You guessed it: Priority: Sur'Kesh is up next in Chapter 13: Hope in the Darkness. Like most of my story-based campaign mission chapters, it'll probably get unintentionally and ridiculously long, so I'd be prepared just in case. And considering the amount of chance encounters with past characters, and new ones, it'll be even longer. I'll try and make it as short as possible.** _

_**In response Myron22: Never! I will write when the inspiration comes to me; and I just happen to be one caffeine right now, which means my writing will be very flippant, full of life and continous; which is good for the audience, because that means faster, incoming chapters. And for some reason, since I like doing main story mission chapters, I'll probably be ripping straight into Sur'Kesh tomorrow morning, and then continue the rest of the day; again, that's if inspiration isn't lacking. Which it won't be...hopefully.** _

_**Until then...** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	15. Hope in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving on Sur'Kesh to secure the release of the krogan females from STG custody, Shepard finds that Wrex isn't the only one with a vested interest in them.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN:**

**HOPE IN THE DARKNESS**

_June 8, 2186_

_1506 hours._

_Troop Bay, UT-47A Kodiak Combat Shuttle, Unypz Continent, Sur'Kesh. Fast Approaching Special Tasks Group, Alpha Site._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, EDI, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

The shuttle shook violently as the high-speed winds of Sur'Kesh beat against it, shaking the occupants inside it. Marcus gripped the ceiling grip harder than ever, shifting slightly while Cortez, used to this kind of turbulance already, barely moved, just continuing to casually issuing commands to the console infront of him, "We've just passed the atmosphere, and now we should be entering salarian airspace now. Salarian FleetCom has given us the go ahead, so I've set coordinates for Alpha Site. We should be there in just a few minutes."

"Excellent job Cortez," Marcus complimenting, slapping the man's shoulder appreciatively before turning around and heading into the troop bay of the shuttle, where the rest of the squad...and Wrex...were waiting to deploy.

The krogan himself was standing at the end of the bay, silently examining his claymore. Garrus stood next to him, holding one of the ceiling grapples, mattock rifle in his other grip, and James standing similiarly on the other side. Everyone else was seated except EDI, who stood almost rigidly, and Javik, who stood on the other side, near the hatch, watching her with suspicious eyes.

It didn't take long for Marcus to notice Wrex's mischevious look after putting his helmet on, and he quickly took hold of a ceiling grapple as the shuttle shook once more from the turbulance, his voice carrying with it, "This is the salarian homeworld we're on, and a salarian base we'll be landing at," the spectre declared openly, "They aren't used to seeing krogan here, so let's keep it simple," he began to pace along the shuttle, Wrex listening as he slipped a thermal clip into the chamber of his shotgun, "We land, retrieve the females, and leave before  _anyone_ changes their mind. You read me, Wrex?"

Wrex, ever suspicious, locked eyes with Marcus, shaking his head as he slammed the chamber shut, and the clip was slipped into firing position with a loud clang, "I still don't trust a word they say."

Marcus nodded, quitting his pacing as he leaned against the outer cockpit bulkhead, "Let diplomacy play its part, Wrex," he smiled at the krogan, "Hopefully, you'll get what you want without violence."

Wrex sighed, nodding, "These females are the first, and probably last, hope for my people," he growled, "I won't allow these pyjaks to keep them away from me. If it comes to needing me to fight them, I will. I'll kill every last one of them to save those females."

"We'll bring them back Wrex," Liara assured, smiling assuredly, "Don't worry."

"Krogan are powerful when they are angry," Javik piped up, "We completely ignored what you call Tuchanka because of this. They would slaughter our teams by the dozen; they were powerful, even then. During that cycle, your kind thrived in the heat; you were the kings of your world, the top carnivores; and Kalros was your protector. Primitive worship, but understandable."

Wrex glared at the prothean, "I still haven't ask just what the hell that thing is, and whether I should blast his little body apart for calling me a 'primitive.'"

"He's a Prothean, Wrex," Marcus explained, "The last of his people."

"Then he'd better keep quiet and stop this primitive nonsense," Wrex snapped, shaking his head as he looked away from the ancient warrior, "I'd hate to kill the pyjak," suddenly remembering what Liara said, he turned to the asari, nodding, "And...thanks Liara; I appreciate that. I wouldn't want anyone else along for the ride."

A loud, fake cough could be heard, and all eyes landed on Garrus, who was currently moving his hand away from his mouth, having successfully drawn their attention.

Wrex chuckled lightly, grinning, "I suppose I can make room for you to, Garrus," his chuckle rised in crescendo, before stopping, the krogan still not letting his little grin drop; if it had been anyone else, they'd have shat themselves seeing such a murderous grin, but to the crew who had worked alongside them; they found it strangely endearing.

Garrus snorted, "Figured you'd gone soft, sitting on that throne," the turian smirked in kind, shaking his head, "Forgotten how to hold a gun."

"Don't tempt me to show you otherwise, dino," Wrex smugly retorted, glancing at his claymore to emphasize his point, "I'm just as deadly as my little quarian niece; and I taught  _her_ everything she knows."

Any further response was cut off by Cortez as he called out from the cockpit, "Captain! I have Alpha Site on sensors," he turned back to his console, listening as the sound of Marcus' boots echoing through the cabin signalled his arrival in the cockpit, now standing behind the pilot's seat.

"Set her down," Marcus ordered, turning back to his group, "Remember, keep it simple. Don't draw your-"

Cortez spoke once more, interrupting Marcus, "Captain, STG Ground Control says we don't have clearance to land. They're ordering us to leave their airspace or risk being shot down if we don't comply."

He growled, gripping Cortez's seat, "Tell them Dalatrass Linron authorized this herself, and they are  _threatening_ a Council Spectre." By this point, he could see that the shuttle had come to hover over a landing pad on Alpha Site, and that the base was built into the mountain side, surrounded by vegetation and jungle; trees stretching along the landscape, the Pranas Sun beating down on them through the blue sky. Down below, salarian STG members ran about, some looking up at the Alliance shuttle currently hovering over them. Marcus was too busy examining the place to notice Cortez relaying his words.

Or the hatch opening.

"I knew they wouldn't keep their word," Wrex snapped, the sound of a claymore being unholstered being heard, "Let's see them stop a krogan airdrop."

Marcus spun around, running into the troop bay to see the hatch open, Wrex standing at the edge, everyone just looking at him. "Wrex!" he managed to get out just before the hulking krogan leaped out, the sound of concrete cracking below as the 500 pound krogan slammed into the ground, a loud grunt heard. He ran over to the edge, looking down as he saw the krogan battlemaster crouched among a cracked surface. As he came to stand, four STG operatives wearing light white armor came to stand infront of him, drawing their omni-tools. They didn't last long before a biotic blast from the krogan's body sent them flying into the wall, the krogan coming to stand as he drew his claymore. The krogan glared at the numerous salarian reinforcements approaching, daring them to attack as he roared in fury, "And who authorized  _you_ to hold my race hostage!"

Suddenly, the battle-hardened warrior froze, a red dot appearing on his crest, followed by five more, and then ten. Marcus recognized them as laser dot sights.  _Snipers. Great one, Wrex. Just fucking great. Better get down before he does something stupid._ Sighing, he leapt from the craft, followed by the rest of his squad, who all came to land next to their krogan friend, surrounding him quickly so as to protect him, Marcus at the front, all of them keeping their weapons holstered so as to not show aggression. Cortez remained hovering over the pad, ignoring the three Union Mantis gunships now aiming their guns at them, coming to hover around them, and 15 STG soldiers, all having drawn their shotguns, pistols and SMGs.  _Quite the welcome wagon._

"Stand down! Dammit, all of you! Hold your fire!" came a hurried voice, and all eyes, including the salarians', turned to watch another STG operative, this one wearing the same armor except jet black, jogging towards them, his own pistol at his hip and not drawn. He came to stand infront of his men, shaking his head. The salarians lowered their weapons, and the other soldier, obviously their leader, spoke, holding a hand up to cover his face from all the dirt flying up in the air from the kodiak's hovering, "Captain Shepard, restrain your colleague. We only heard about this transfer a minute ago."

 _Goddamn it, Dalatrass. You're just yanking us around even more. I swear, if the females were moved before we got here, I'm going to find her and fucking kill the bitch. I've had enough of her already._ Marcus nodded, stepping forward as he held his hands up in meek surrender, "We'd like to avoid a diplomatic incident."

"As would we," was the commander's simple reply, glad they had reached a compromise, "It would not look good if STG soldiers fired on a Council Spectre."

He nodded, jabbing a finger at the krogan behind him, red dots blinking out as the snipers lowered their rifles or holstered them, "You have something valuable to Wrex."

The krogan quickly added his own two cents worth, "Something worth  _dying_ for."

The salarian quickly nodded, "This matter can be resolved," he eyed the krogan with only a tinge of fear, "But I must insist he remain under guard. We can't just have a krogan running around a secure STG facility."

Wrex snarled, moving to push past Marcus to give the salarian a piece of his mind, but the spectre held out his arm, halting the krogan's approach. He looked at him incredulously, but the N7 quickly spun back around to face him, eyes steely, "We can handle this Wrex."

"I need to be there. These are my people," the krogan growled, spitting at the feet of the salarians before them, "And I don't trust any of them. That Dalatrass-"

"Do you trust me, Wrex?"

"I..." the krogan blinked, shaking his head as he frowned at the human, "You're my battle-brother, Shepard. You're my krantt. I trust you with my life."

"Then trust me when I say we  _will_ bring these females back," he turned around, gripping the krogan's shoulders tightly, looking up at him, "You promised me the krogan, and now I'm going to promise your people a cure. We'll retrieve them; either diplomatically, or violently."

Wrex eyed the salarians one final time before nodding, posture slouching as he released his grip on the claymore's grip, holding it one-handed, "Okay, Shepard. But if anything goes wrong, all bets are off."

"You bet," he reassured, slapping the krogan on the back as Wrex holstered his claymore and he turned around, motioning his squad to follow him. Before he could however, he found himself at the end of a barrel, the salarian commander shaking his head.

"I must ask the krogan to relinquish his weapon," the salarian stated, "Safety concerns."

"I'll relinquish one shell," the krogan snarled, "Where you do you want-"

"Just do it Wrex," Marcus snapped, "Got enough shit to deal with already."

Muttering under his breath, he unclipped his shotgun from the back of his waist and handed it over to the nearest salarian, who took it and hurriedly backed off in fear of the immense warrior. Marcus nodded his temporary goodbye to the krogan as he motioned for his squad to follow him, the salarians dispersing as only a small squad remained to escort Wrex to a guarded area. The salarian came to stand next to him, walking alongside the human as they walked down a pair of stairs onto the lower platform of the Alpha Site roof.

Alpha Site's exterior was quite large; to their left was a large, glass-paned elevator that moved diagionally up, and hooked up to a bi-rail that would slide it over to a docking area where it would land over to the far right; a control console lay next to it, where three STG were working. The rest of the area was filled with seats, consoles and plants; a waiting area, and numerous salarian operatives mulled about, waiting for their next mission or task. Stairs led to the fair right where doubtless more consoles were located, salarians working on them as well. And directly ahead was a door, a large blast door by the looks of it, that likely lead to an elevator. He could also see what looked like another part of the base on the other side of the canyon, a flock of native Sur'Keshian four-winged birds flying by it.  _This planet is beautiful; so much like Earth before we covered it in cities. The salarians seemed to have preserved it perfectly._

"I'm Padok Wiks, Director of the Special Tasks Group Intelligence Division of the Salarian Union," the salarian named Padok declared, "And I appreciate your understanding, Captain. With war on everyone's minds, my people are on edge."

They continued past the glass elevator, which was currently lifting a-

Marcus stood dead as he looked at the beast bashing against the electric glass guarded by force fields, roaring its discontent as it was lifted up in its cage to the bi-rail. Its massive form was bigger than a krogan, more menacing, had natural armor, and had a triangle-shaped head. Normally, he shouldn't have been able to recognize it. But he had fought one before. He knew what it was, and it shook him to the bone.

A yahg.

_"...I know your every secret, while you fumble in the dark..."_

Memories of the battle he had with the Ex-Shadow Broker a year ago flashed to the forefront of his mind, but he drove them down, turning to Liara jokingly, "Recognize our old friend?"

Liara scowled, trying very hard not to look at the beast as it was attached to the bi-rail, the elevator's operators watching its progress carefully, "Yes, and I'd hoped to never see it again."

Padok, noticing where their looks had landed, stopped beside them, "As you can see, this base holds sensitive information. You were let in as a courtesy to the Council; we don't normally permit non-STG access to anyone without a security clearance of Epsilon or higher. Not even Spectres. But if one of the Dalatrasi authorized it herself, then it must be very important."

Marcus turned to the salarian, eyebrow raised, "What kind of work do you do here exactly?" he motioned to the yahg.

Padok responded quickly, almost eagerly, and at a pace that reminded him of Mordin, "Evolutionary trials. Morphological simulations. Exogenetic assessments."

James sighed, rubbing his temples, "Nothing's ever simple with salarians, is it?"

Padok smirked smugly, "Science has always been the Union's best defense, and our greatest offense. The research we do at Alpha Site has kept Sur'Kesh safe for millenia."

Marcus rounded on him, crossing his arms as he noticed the salarian's smirk drop at the action, "Does it include studying lost krogan? Say, female krogan, to be exact?"

Padok knitted his eyebrows, or lack of, and sort've creased the skin where they should be, and quickly explained himself, "The females were in poor health when we found them on Tuchanka; they were brought here to stabilize their condition."

Just as they prepared to continue, they watched one salarian walk by and to a secluded area, and quickly turned as Wrex, unarmed, moved to lean against a wall, another salarian wielding a vindicator aiming at his back as the krogan mumbled, "This whole planet smells  _wrong_."

"Well, as you can see, my friend is a bit restless," the spectre deadpanned, whirling to face the director, "So its best that we see them before we take them. And before you argue, the Dalatrass has already authorized that too,  _if_ she's following her word."  _Which I very much don't trust. At all._

"Of course," Padok agreed, raising his omni-tool, "I'll need to clear you for the lower levels. I might be director, but the lower levels are where our scientists rule; I'll inform our project director and inform him of your coming and see what he says. I see no reason why he wouldn't allow it; he's been quite...protective of them."

"We'll just wait here," Marcus stated.

"Will you Lieutenant Commander?" a voice stated from behind him, "Didn't think of you as a man of idle waiting."

Incredulous, he turned to behold the form of a familiar salarian approaching them, wearing medium salarian-based armor of similiar raven black quality as Padok's, but a hardened, chiseled face on his features. One horn was charred, and as he approached, a smile creased his face.

Seeing he was dismissed, Padok took his leave, heading for the elevator at the end of the area. The salarian STG soldier continued his approach before stopping, holding out his hand in greeting. Marcus eagerly took it.

"Captain Kirrahe!" Marcus greeted in earnest, "How's the years been treating you?"

"Actually, it's  _Major_ Kirrahe now," the salarian corrected, "And pretty well, considering the events of Virmire. I'm no longer in command of the Third Infiltration Regiment, but I do command the First Infiltration Division now. How about you Captain? You must be quite busy, given this war with the Reapers."

"More than I'd like, but its helping," Marcus shrugged, "So you've been promoted?"

Kirrahe smiled, nodding as he did, motioning for them to follow him over to the waiting area while Padok submitted the request for access, "Due in no small part to our mission on Virmire three years ago," he laughed lightly, waxing some nostalgia, "'Hold the line.' You saved my men that day, and I've been forever grateful for that. Mordin, Maelon, Rentola and I got off almost unscratched, and with Saren's base a nuclear crater, no less."

Garrus and Liara approached both smiling as the turian spoke, shaking hands with the salarian, "Good to see a friendly face, Major."

Kirrahe smiled back, shaking the turian's hand eagerly, before doing the same with Liara as they stopped near a console, the major leaning against it, "Garrus Vakarian, Liara T'Soni. And I see our occupant over there is Urdnot Wrex," he sniffed, amused, "Yes, definitely Wrex. It seems the Reapers have way of bringing us together in these dark times."

Marcus smiled grimly, nodding, "Yeah, it sure does," he shook his head, removing his helmet as he placed it under his armpit, meeting the STG veteran's eyes, "So...you heard much of these female krogan? What do you think of having them here?"

Kirrahe's smile disappeared, replaced with a frown, "Our scientists say its important to preserve the females. 'Evolutionary paradigms,'" he air quoted the last two words, seeming to disagree with them, "I say...when people know you're hiding something valuable, they'll want to steal it," he gave a non-chalant shrug, "Either way, I have my orders. They'll be your problem soon enough."

"Us old soldiers just following orders. It's all we're good at, eh?" Marcus commented, smiling, "Still, these female krogan will really help with curing the genophage, which in turn will give us the krogan military and strengthen the UGC."

"UGC?" Kirrahe questioned, "I don't believe I've heard that term before."

"The United Galactic Confederacy," he explained, "Its a unification of the entire galaxy to stop the Reapers; at least, that's the plan. We've got the Systems Alliance, Batarian Hegemony, Drell and Hanar Illuminated Primacy and the Elcor in the game, but it seems the asari and your people are remaining sidelined, and the turians and volus will only join if the krogan help the fighting on Palaven, and the krogan will only help if they get a cure. Its quite the conundrum."

"The asari and my own people?" Kirrahe scoffed, "You'd think we'd be better than that; apparently we still think we can beat them on our own. Well," he leaned in close, placing a hand on the captain's shoulder as he squeezed it, "Regardless of what the politicians say, you can count on the salarian First Infiltration Division STG joining your UGC. And with some work, I can get you the entire STG. Padok Wiks is the director, and he's a reasonable man; he will join, regardless of what the Dalatrasi think."

Marcus blinked, surprised by this turn of events, "I...thank you, Major. You've done the right thing. The UGC will benefit by having you involved. However, any orders given by the UGC higher ups will supercede those of the Union, you know that right?"

"What, and you think the Union authorized this pledge of allegiance?" Kirrahe asked jokingly, "Their meddling in bueracracy and blindless to an obvious threat is what's put us in this precarious decision; ignoring their orders will be a blessing. No, the STG will join the UGC and, with luck, the rest of the Union's military will follow."

Before he could speak again, Padok yelled at him from across the yard, "Captain! Permission has been granted by project director. You best enter as quickly as possible. Labs top secret. Maximum security. Priority clearance. Seemed to only let you once he recognized your name."

Marcus nodded, turning to Kirrahe as he held his hand out for the man to shake, but the salarian wasn't looking at him, simply staring at Javik, "Commander, may I ask, just what is that?"

"He's a friend," Marcus stated, somewhat grudgingly.

"A Prothean," Javik added.

Kirrahe wasn't convinced, turning back to Marcus, "Prothean? Of course," he replied sarcastically, "Amazing what they can do with genetic modification these days. Some new...psychological tactic, Captain? Give the Reapers a good scare?" he turned back to Javik, "What are you really? Drell? Turian?"

Javik sounded annoyed by his response, " _Prothean_."

Realization seemed to cross his face as he looked between the two, seeing their serious faces. His eyes widened temporarily before he coughed, looking back at Marcus, "Ah...I see."

Chuckling, he held out his hand, the salarian taking it as he was still trying to come to grips with the fact that he was in the presence of a person supposed to be long dead, "I hope we meet again Kirrahe. Remember, hold the line."

Kirrahe smiled, snapping a salute, "That's our motto in STG; always be ready for trouble. And if not, then cause trouble for someone else."

And with that, he was gone, rushing up the stairs, barely giving him enough time to ask the salarian what the pistol was he had at his hip; it wasn't of any known type he had seen. Instead, he made his way towards the door, but before he could continue, Kirrahe shouted to him again, and he turned around, watching the salarian snap one final salute.

"For Gunnery Chief Williams," he declared, "STG has not forgotten her sacrifice, and neither have I. She held the line, Captain. You must do the same." And with that, he was finally gone, rounding the corner and disappearing. Marcus simply saluted the empty air, a grim smile on his face before he turned around, and finally met with Padok, who was waiting by the door with two salarian guards wielding vindicator battle rifles.

Padok, seeing him and his squad approach, held a hand up, stopping them before the director then turned around, showing his eye to the retinal scanner on the wall. A blue beam of light scanned his iris and within seconds recognized who he was, the door glowing green before opening. Behind it was a dull grey box, with barely any lighting, but sterile walls that were in line with salarian architecture; not smooth, but completely clean. Meticulous.

They entered the elevator, everyone packing in as Marcus moved in last, taking the front of the group before turning around, facing Padok, who was outside the door, turned towards them, nodding with a solemn expression, the two guards remaining at their posts.

"Take this elevator down. Its been programmed to hit the only level relevant to you, so don't worry about imputting commands," he explained, "The Project Director will meet you below. He will-"

The salarian's words were cut off as a loud klaxon began to blare, followed by a siren howling in the distance, echoing throughout the base as everyone, including Wrex, Marcus and the squad, looked about in confusion.  _What the hell? Who could be attacking?_

Padok's omni-tool beeped, and the confused salarian opened it, yelling over the sirens ringing throughout Alpha Site, "This is Director Wiks, what is going on? Is this a drill? Have Reaper forces made it in system?"

"Negative sir. No Reapers in the system, but the Third and Fourth Fleets were just pulled out of orbit to deal with an enemy presence at the relay; we got a tip from FleetCom," the salarian responded just as loudly, "Something's tripped the perimeter defenses, and AirControl says they've detected a frigate-size vessel heading this way at a slow pace. Should we scramble to counter?"

"Track its progress. If it approaches with hostile intent, shoot it down or disable it," Wiks ordered, "Have the entire base placed on Priority One," turning off his omni-tool, Padok eyed him, giving him a quick nod, "Go, Captain. We'll deal with this."

Just before the door shut, Marcus managed to see and hear Kirrahe ordering his troops to assemble, and watch Wrex argue with his guards for the return of his claymore so he can defend himself. Then all went dark, and the elevator began its descent, leaving its occupants wondering.

Just who would be crazy enough to attack STG Headquarters, on the salarian homeworld?

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1518 hours._

_Experimentation and Control Wing, STG Alpha Site, Unypz Continent, Sur'Kesh._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, EDI._

The elevator continued in silence, the object itself seeming to give no noise at all as it proceeded into the belly of the base. Eventually, they felt it stop, and the doors shot open, revealing a brighty lit room walled by, you guessed it, more sterile walls. The tiles on the floor were familiar, and he recognized them as the ones seen in the still images Wrex had gotten from his inside source. They were on the upper level; two pairs of stairs, one on each side of the room, lead to a second level where numerous container pods lined the walls, again, like the ones from the images. Salarian scientists mulled about doing their work, working at numerous consoles and terminals lining the room, some pondering, others lecturing.

Marcus seemed to find the project director instantly; a pair of salarians obscured him from sight however, obviously speaking with him. Finally, the salarian moved out of the way, "All specimens accounted for sir, as per protocol."

The project director, wearing an armoured, white labcoat, a metal ring surrounding his neck, and one horn missing, was uncanningly recognizable in an instant. Liara and Garrus stared agape at him, Kasumi grinned, James and Keeling looked unimpressed, as did Javik, and Marcus simply chuckled.

A grin broke across Mordin Solus' face as he approached them, "Shepard. Excellent timing. Good to have you here." He said all of this in his usual rapidfire tone; something that those who worked with him immediately recognized and found stangely endearing.

"Mordin!" Marcus greeted, holding out his hand as the salarian professor willingly took it, shaking it eagerly as his smile turned into a professional grin.

"Eyesight still sharp," the salarian stated dryly, and Marcus had to roll his eyes at the comment as their hands dropped to their respective sides, "Surprise understandable. Hadn't expected to return to work."

"You're back with STG?" Garrus asked, still shocked from the surprise reunion.

"Special consultant," Mordin replied, smiling, "Had to be me, someone else might have gotten it wrong." Marcus smiled at the salarian's iconic line, seeing it had become something of a motto for him; words to live by. But he was still slightly confused.

"Wait, Mordin, last we spoke, you said you were going to try and cure the genophage with the data Maelon gave you."

Mordin nodded, turning to make sure noone was looking before leaning in, whispering, "Helped female krogan. Fed information to Clan Urdnot. Encouraged political pressure to release females," he smiled, "Never stopped looking for cure, have been looking for time to synthesize. Still have data on me. No time to do so. Will get around to it. Reaper invasion has made time short however." The salarian took a moment to take a long breath, something he did inbetween long-winded outbursts.

Marcus sighed happily as the salarian leaned back, crossing his arms, " _You're_ Wrex's inside source. Why am I not surprised?"

"Shouldn't be. No me too well. Did not expect surprise," he replied, shaking his head as he turned around, motioning for them to follow him as he made his way over to the other side of the room, "Cannot talk about it here. Security levels not normal. Must get offworld for sake of krogan."

Marcus nodded, following the crazy salarian as the rest of his squad followed, coming into step next to him as he continued to speak, this time in a more solemn, sorrowful tone, "Females had weakened immune systems, much like quarians. Side effect of Maleon's cure."

They came to stop behind the containment pods in the images, and Marcus' heart stopped as Mordin leaned against the console, voice apologetic, "Couldn't save them."

Liara gasped, and the squad saw what lay before them; long lines of pods that once held krogan female prisoners, now held their dead bodies, covered in white sheets out of respect for their corpses. Marcus inwardly cursed, not liking the implications of this; he was glad Wrex wasn't here. He'd have chucked a fit. Probably killed Mordin too.  _Fuck! Now how the hell do we find a cure! Those females were our only chance! Why can't anything go right for once!?_

"But Maleon's data should have been enough to save them!" Marcus objected, dropping his helmet.

"Yes, but data not complete. Missing crucial details to reconstruct cure. But still useful to synthesize from living tissue. Still couldn't save them however. Immune systems and exposure killed them. Suits could not be procured. However, not all hope lost. Still one living female. Immune system weakened, but not severely enough for major infection to open exposure. Still lives. Can synthesize cure from her tissue. Must ensure her safety."

Marcus turned to him hopefully, quickly snatching his helmet as he pulled it back on, "Show me."

Mordin nodded, quickly rushing down the stairs, not giving them much time to follow or not; so they did so anyway. They quickly found themselves on the lower level, approaching a very particular console where one container pod lay, attached to the glass-paned elevator he saw before; likely recently loaded onto it. And inside the pod, was the last hope for the krogan people. Their hope in the darkness.

"Last hope for krogan," Mordin stated, "Cannot die. If she does, genophage cure...problematic."

Marcus examined her, having never seen a female krogan before. She wasn't much different from her male counterpart, and unlike most females in the galaxy, she did not sport any noticable breasts of any kind. Her head was covered in a purple draping, as was the rest of her body, all of it covered in unique patterns and symbols, Marcus finding it oddly alluring. Her legs were thinner than a male's, but still strong, and her eyes were just piercing; just as intimidating. Hell, she was the same size as Wrex practically.  _Are all females as big as Wrex, or just her?_

Slowly, he began to approach, his squad staying and Mordin's warning going unnoticed, "Careful. Krogan slow to trust."

He came to a stop, realizing the female was awake and watching his every move. Clearing his throat and gulping, he spoke, his voice professional and unwavering, "I'm Captain Marcus Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconissance, and Systems Alliance Navy and Marine Corps."

The female's voice was surprisingly deep for a woman, not very feminine, but it did have a certain...womanly quality to it as well, "Are you here to kill me?" Her voice was cautious, blunt and very secure. She didn't seem to fear the prospect of it. Yet again, this was a krogan they were talking about.

EDI spoke from off to the side, "According to the readings Director Solus has just uploaded to my software, it would seem that the female krogan has suffered numerous stress fractures, precision cuts along her spleen, and an attempted entry below her crest. She has also suffered numerous internal hemorrphages."

"Goddess..." Liara silently exclaimed, "What she's been through..."

Marcus shut their voices out, concentrating only on the krogan before him, "Urdnot Wrex, a friend of mine, and I are here to take you home. I've given my name, but I don't know you, Miss...?" The krogan did not answer, so he turned to Mordin, eyebrow raised.

"Call her Eve," he replied, "Was unwilling to provide real name. Did not trust me. Understandable, if misguided."

"'Eve?'" he questioned, confused, "Care to tell me what she has to with that particular human folktale?"

"Considering religious beliefs, surprised at this labelling," Mordin exclaimed, shaking his head, "Human folktale of Eve being the mother of humanity. This female mother of krogan; will give them new life. Provide them a cure. Seemed fitting."

"Right," he turned back to the krogan nicknamed Eve, sighing as he spoke, "Eve, we're going to take you home."

"Why?" Eve replied, again, very bluntly, "What am I to you?"

"The last hope for an entire people. Your people," he spoke poetically, "You could be their last chance for a cure to your thousand year nightmare. Eve, Wrex and I will return you home so you can cure the genophage."

"And do you believe this a worthy cause?" Eve asked.

"I do," Marcus narrowed his eyes, "I would even die to make sure your plight is vanquished."

"We shall see," Eve cautiously replied. But before anything further could be said, the base gave a shake, dust falling from the ceiling. Another shake, and this time the sound of an explosion was heard and if anything, his veteran hearing immediately recognized the thump, thump, thump of gunfire up above.  _Alpha Site's under attack. Damn it._ Klaxons blared throughout the silence lab as the guards rushed to their posts, ready to defend the scientists from enemy assault.

"This is Director Wiks!" came the salarian's voice over the PA, "A Cerberus frigate has breached the perimeter! We are under bombardment! All readiness teams, we are now on Combat Readiness 2. Get to positions and repel the enemy attack!"

 _Cerberus? For fuck sake. What the hell could they possibly want here?_ His eyes then landed on the krogan.  _No, they couldn't want her, right? What would they do with a female kro-no, the Reapers want her dead so that the genophage cure doesn't happen...that's why they're attacking._

The room turned into chaos as numerous STG operatives, scientists and soldiers alike, moved about, prepared to deal with the sudden Cerberus surprise assault. Suddenly, all power shut off, before coming back on, a salarian in the background shouting, "All outbound communication has been cut off!"

_They must have lured the salarian fleet away with a false warning of Reaper attack and then cut off communications to stop Alpha Site calling for help. Then they attacked; they must be desperate to get this krogan before we do, or snatch her from us now that we have her._

His omni-tool began to beep, and he opened to see a view of Wrex, Cortez behind him as the hulking krogan now sat in the pilot's seat, Cortez looking petrified and annoyed all at the same time. He heard the shuttle's engines roaring, and watched it tilt as the krogan spoke, flying away, "Shepard! Cerberus troops are attacking the base. They're all over the place, and the salarians are getting overrun. They've got gunship support, but it won't last forever. You need get the females out of there  _now_!"

Marcus sighed as he rubbed his temples, cursing silently once more, "Only one of them survived, Wrex. It might be safer down here. Secure the area, then we'll bring her up when-"

"We will  **not** wait! Especially if there is only one left!" Wrex growled, pointing an accusing finger, "You want your coalition? You want the krogan? Then get her out of there alive! I'm in the shuttle, I'll wait up here to pick you up."

"It'll get done Wrex," he replied through gritted teeth, "I promised," he then shut off the display, putting his helmet back on after having absentmindedly taking it off, turning to the salarian at the control console, "Release Eve. We need to extract her."

The salarian shook his head, not even turning towards him, "I can't. Protocol dictates, that during lockdown, containment of all specimens is a-"

"Yes yes, duly noted. Protocol irrelevant. Sorry, must do this. Hope you understand. Galactic survival at stake. Absolutely necessary. STG initiative."

The salarian suddenly spasmed as he fell onto the console, body jerking and shaking violently as he flew off and onto the ground, continuing to spasm from the electricity shooting through him. Shocked, Marcus looked up to see Mordin now typing into the console.

"Is he going to be okay?" Marcus asked, "He's not dead, is he?"

"Of course not. Minor overload. Lowered the clocking slightly. Meant to paralyze, not harm. Will wake up. Acts as a tazer. Very useful," he heaved in a large breath, smiling as he typed a final command into the terminal, door to the control console sliding open, stepping inside, "Gives us time to escape. Eve's survival crucial. Loss of her will doom krogan race. Cannot allow that to happen. Swore personal oath."

As the door shut, he turned around, typing into the elevator's controls. Marcus frowned at him, misunderstanding, "And what personal oath was that, Mordin?"

"The same one I made to you," the scientist stated, "Cure the genophage. Correct mistake. Thousand years of suffering; was ignorant. Ignored reality, focused on simulations. Believed Union propaganda. Indoctrinated by salarian government. Not anymore. Will change. Must change," he sighed, eying Marcus fully, "Will end what I modified. Not a search for redemption; search for truth. For correction."

"You've changed alot Mordin," Marcus grinned.

"Had to be me," he replied, focused as he turned to Eve, smiling slightly in warmth, "Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

"What are you planning to do, Mordin?" he asked, now pulling his rifle out as his squad followed his example, priming their weapons as another explosion rocked the base, "She's a sitting duck down here, and she'll be open season up there."

He knocked a three-fingered hand on the glass next to him, "Glass deceptive. Powered by mass effect forcefields. Very powerful. Strong as cruiser's shielding. Impenetrable," he went back to his console, "However, suspect Cerberus have other methods. Will know this. Attempt a less direct approach. Will need combat support," he met Marcus' eyes, smiling, "The very best needed."

He nodded, understanding what he meant, "Get it to the top, and we'll be waiting there for you. We'll hold off Cerberus for as long as we can."

"Woo-hoo! Finally!" James cheered, the sound of a Revenant being loaded being heard, "Time to kick some more pro-human ass!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Vega," Keeling warned, "Protection of Eve is our only priority."

"Killjoy," James mumbled.

"Cut the chatter," Marcus snapped, turning back to Mordin as he saw the elevator begin to rise, "We'll see you up top, Mordin. Stay safe," before he turned, he gave his parting words, "And it's good to see you again."

"Yes yes, time for sentimenality later. Eve in danger," the salarian waved a dismissive hand, "Nostalgia dangerous in battle. Can kill. Well aware of this. Worked in STG. Well accustomed to it." And then, the salarian was gone, disappearing as the elevator rose beyond sight.

He turned to his squad, quickly dishing out orders, "Everybody, hit the elevator! We need to get topside, pronto!"

With him in front, EDI and Garrus at his flanks and the rest on his rear, they rushed towards the elevator, finding a few salarian technicians around it, trying open it with their omni-tools as the elevator's red symbol refused to give. A few salarian soldiers were huddled around it, ready to enter the elevator with his squad after the hack was complete.

One salarian cried out victory as the symbol finally turned green, and the door shot open...

...only to find its interior covered in C7 explosives, all beeping to climax.

His squad was far enough away that the blast merely sent them flying into the wall, but the salarians were not so lucky. They were completely consumed by the tidal wave of fire that washed over them, the elevator ripped to shreds as it was completely shorn apart from the colossal explosion. Debris rained everywhere and ontop of the survivors, having shaken the supports. Groaning, Marcus managed to work his way to his feet, moving over and helping James up as the rest of his squad got up, dusting themselves off. Turning, he was welcomed by a gruesome sight.

The elevator was non-existent, completely awash with flames, and some of the walls around it had been scorched and blown apart as well. Debris lay everywhere, as did tiny individual fires, but the most gruesome were the charred corpses laying around, with some still alive and screaming as their armor either fused with their skin, or the flames licked across their skin, comrades rushing to put the flames out. Others were reduced to pieces of cauterized legs, arms and sometimes even heads, all of them roasted by the blast. Green blood painted the walls almost completely, ruining their sterile quality. And the smoke wafting from the lift was choking them; it was horrible.

"Captain Shepard!" one salarian called out, and they turned around to meet him as he pointed to a door at the other side of the room, "There's stairs outside! You'll have to reach the topside landing area manually, but it's better than being stuck down here. And hurry, Cerberus forces are converging on this location!"

Marcus nodded, patting the man's shoulder before rushing past him to the otherside, his squad in tow.

As they moved through the door, Wrex's voice came through the comms, "Shepard! I've got the shuttle and I'm airborne; got a few Cerberus gunships on my tail and I'm going to try and lose them. Do whatever it takes to get the female to the landing pad! I'll do what I can to make life miserable for Cerberus!"

"Copy that Wrex!" he cried out in reply, and he quickly rushed up to the ladder at the end, holstering his weapon as he began to climb each rung to the top, everyone else following in single file.

Reaching the top, he moved to step through the open doorway ahead, where the otherside of the base was framed perfectly, but stopped when a stray gunshot pinged off the wall, the sounds of both Cerberus and salarian soldiers alike crying out orders or screaming as they were shot. Peeking around the corner, he watched as the forms of five Cerberus assault troopers, all of them screening a centurion, moved forward, their avenger assault rifles ripping into a trio of STG soldiers attempting to hold position. They didn't stand a chance, as the salarians were quickly overwhelmed, green blood running through the upturned tiles.

He motioned to James and EDI, and together they popped out, weapons raised. Marcus fired the first shot, drawing the attention of the centurion as his shot hit dead center in the leader's shields, the man surprised by the sudden attack. James followed up with a long wave of bullers from his LMG, completely tearing apart the coverless assault troopers as all five just fell to the ground in a heap. Unable to do anything, the centurion fired at EDI, only for his shots to ping harmlessly off her armor and to get three SMG bursts in the shields in response, downing them. Completely vulnerable, Marcus shot him through the head, ending him.

After a quick reload, he surveyed the area, sighing. The sounds of gunfire, explosions, shouting and sirens could be heard throughout the canyon, both sides coming under massive assault as Cerberus kodiak shuttles swept through the area, deploying troops all over while the Cerberus frigate, the CAW Majestic, hung over them, occassionally firing at the base with its pulse lasers, and deploying the odd gunship or shuttle. Many parts of the base were littered with craters, caved in walls and destroyed subsections, flames and smoke rising from all of them. Salarians lay where their defense wasn't being held, having fallen to enemy assault. Marcus shook his head, silently fuming.  _Sur'Kesh is safe from the Reaper War...but they aren't safe from Cerberus. Those bastards will do anything to stop me._

The centurion's radio could be heard sparking, and he turned in time to watch Javik pry it from the man's helmet, holding it for everyone to hear, "All teams, converge on Level 4. Target has moved, repeat, target has moved! Shepard's here, damn it! All teams available, deploy to Level 4 and intercept the salarian! We've got it pinned!"

 _'It?' Oh fuck you._ Suddenly, as if sensing what they were listening, Mordin's voice popped up in his comm as Javik tossed the radio away, "Shepard! Need assistance! Cerberus forces have locked down elevator on-"

"-Level 4. Yeah, we know. They've got all their forces converging on your location," he declared, "We're on Level 5. We're coming to you. Stay put. We'll be right there."

"Yes. Will keep Eve safe," Mordin simply replied before disconnecting. Without further mucking around, Marcus motioned them forward, and they moved through the devastated installation.

They were nearing the end, where a door lay waiting, numerous dead salarians laying around.  _I wonder if Kirrahe is still alive among all of this?_

Just as they reached the door, they heard the distinctive roar of a kodiak get louder until it appeared right over them, hatch shooting open as a squad of Cerberus soldiers waited inside to deploy. "There's Shepard!"

Marcus shouted at his team to enter cover as the first three assault troopers hit the ground, immediately emptying their clips into their cover to keep his team pinned. The centurion quickly followed, along with two guardians, five more assault troopers and one phantom. The phantom in particular turned to the centurion, "Keep them pinned!" it said, feminine voice distorted by cybernetics, much like the men around her. And then, she was gone, activating her cloak. He heard Kasumi mumble something like 'no longer having the monopoly' and he would have smiled, if it hadn't been for the cybernetically-enhanced ninja with a katana and a cloak running about.

Without hesitation, he motioned to Garrus to take care of the centurion while he ordered Keeling and James to get behind him and cut into the assault troopers. He ordered Javik to cover Kasumi while the thief moved in behind the guardians, and for Liara to keep an eye on their flank for the phantom.

The firefight was short and to the point. The centurion's head quickly disappeared in red and black mist as Garrus' shot hit dead on the mark, the sniper never failing to impress. James' Revenant roared a constantly stream of bullets while Marcus' and Keeling's rifles gave a steady staccato beat, tearing apart two troopers as the others slipped into cover, but that didn't stop James as he simply ripped a frag grenade from his bandolier and chucked it behind the enemy line, hearing it detonate and tear apart two more troopers, leaving only the three, who quickly raised from cover to return fire. One's head erupted into gore as Garrus locked onto him, and the last two suffered similiar, less spectacular deaths from Marcus' mattock and Keeling's valkyrie.

Kasumi managed to cloak and sneak up behind the guardians with no issues, cleverly sticking a frag grenade onto the inside of one guardian's shield, kicking him away and then emptying her SMG into the side of the head of the second, his shield protecting her as the first guardian exploded, the blast shredding his body to pieces and sending her flying across the ground to bump into a pillar. Garrus seemed to twitch in alarm, but seeing her groan and get up, mumbling at how much she hated being thrown around, he saw she was okay, and calmed down, focusing again.

Seeing the enemy neatralized, and the shuttle retreating, Marcus prepared to move forward, his mouth opening to issue orders when he heard the sound of a cloak dissipating behind him. Acting quickly, he rolled forward as he heard the sound of a blade whoosing forward, hearing it scrape against the back of his armor as it missed gutting him by the breadth of a hair. Standing up from his roll, he snapped around to take aim with his rifle, only for the phantom to enter cloak again and disappear. He cursed his luck, sweeping the area with his rifle, as did the rest of them.

The phantom reappeared once more, this time behind Javik as it fired its palm cannon, destroying the prothean's shields instantly before he could turn around. He moved to raise his particle rifle, but stopped when the phantom was suddenly wrapped in a blue aura and then flung violently into a wall, where she fell back down to the ground, sword clanging next to her. Javik turned to Liara, who gave him a smug smile; one the prothean promptly ignored.

This gave James no end of amusement, "Saved my a primitive," he bit his lower lip as he suppressed a laugh, "Ouch..."

The phantom grunted, moving to get up as it reached for its sword. Picking it up, he stood at full height, reading its palm cannon, everyone raising their rifles as it took aim at Kasum-

A loud  _thrung,_ like the sound of metal bending back and forth rapidly, could be heard as a constant stream of whitish-green light pulsed and impacted the phantom in the chest, vaporizing its mediocre kinetic barriers in seconds and slamming into its belly. The Cerberus assassin screamed as the weapon melted through her armor, skin, muscle and bone; boiling her insides as her red life source splattered the wall behind her, now so boiling hot it was acting as acid, scorching the wall as it landed. The weapon arched upwards, burning her like white phosphorous, and finally ended at her end, which was melted into a pulp of white-hot jagged bone, torn muscle and dripping blood before her body finally collapsed, having stopped screaming after the rifle carved through her heart. As the body slumped to the ground, melted, they heard the sound of hissing, and turned to see Javik, rifle in hand, as it ejected the spent energy in a boiling hot fog; arching out of the barrel like smoke before the weapon closed shut, and the weapon resumed normal operation.

"Holy shit, amigo!" James shouted in shock and awe, "Holy fucking shit! I need myself one of those babies."

"It is a particle rifle. Standard issue among all warriors of the Empire in my cycle," the prothean rolled his eyes, "It is disappointing that your cycle has not grasped the concept of particle weaponry yet. Primitives."

Everyone simply rolled their eyes as they suddenly remembered that their friend needed help. But as they were moving towards the door, they could hear shudders, the sound of pipelines shattering, and numerous cascading explosions as something large approached. By the sounds of it, it was  _huge._

"Spirits, I don't like the sound of that..." Garrus exclaimed as they palmed the door interface and moved through.

The small corridor was occupied by two Cerberus assault troopers, a guardian, two centurions and a combat engineer, who had seemed to be setting up a choke point with a turret when his squad arrived, and all turned to them, baring their weapons. But time seemed to freeze as the sound of the large presence approaching seemed to halt, intensifying until it was  _right infront of them._

The wall on the right seemed to explode outwards, showering the terrorist soldiers in debris and twisted steel. A mighty roar rocked them as the perpretrator showed himself, a large, unarmoured and unclothed yahg bursting through as he swiped his arm done, one trooper disappearing as he was crushed. His other arm swiped outwards, sending the two centurions flying away, and he quickly grabbed the shield from the guardian, tossed it away and slammed the soldier into a wall, killing him. The combat engineer attempted to raise his pistol to fire, but the yahg opened its mouth and clamped down shut over his head, ripping it off in a fountain of red ichor. Spitting what was left of the man's head out, the yahg, simply turned to Marcus' squad, growling. His team had its weapons raised, ready to fire, but the yahg simply snarled at them before turning the other way and bursting through the wall at the end, continuing its murderous rampage. The squad lowered their weapons, examining the carnage before them, the turret now all alone; mangled and reduced to twisted metal.

"There goes the next Shadow Broker," Marcus quipped, shaking his head as he moved forward, eying the stairs on the end right, his squad quickly following behind them.

Garrus joined in. "I swear he was muttering 'T'Soni' as he snarled at us."

"Not funny," was Liara's deadpan response as they moved up the stairs to Level 4.

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1531 hours._

_Checkpoint 4, STG Alpha Site, Unypz Continent, Sur'Kesh._

_The Reaper War, Cerberus Raid on Sur'Kesh._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, EDI._

"Shepard, Cerberus has elevator surrounded! Require assistance!"

"We're with you Mordin," Marcus stated simply, rounding the corner with his shotgun bared, locking onto the nearest enemy; which just happened to be a Nemesis in cover, "We'll provide you some support. EDI, get over there and override Cerberus' hack."

His claymore shotgun barked, the recoil backing into his arm but not dislocating it like it would others, and he watched the mutilated form of the Cerberus sniper fly back into a wall, torn apart by the shell and he quickly reloaded, rolling into cover as his squad dealt equal amounts of death across the devastated room, covering EDI as she made her way over to the console next to Mordin's and Eve's elevator.

It took Cerberus a second to realize the turn of events, and in that time, his squad had managed to push them back and outside the checkpoint room. Three guardians managed to hold for a while before Garrus pulled out his sniper rifle and sighted through the slit holes, taking them down, one by one.

"Reinforcements are here!" Liara shouted, and he turned to watch a Union gunship reverse in an alcove behind them, a squad of salarian STG soldiers in medium armor and carrying rifles deploying, immediately firing on the Cerberus positions as they approached to bolster Shepard's squad.

Javik's rifle barked once more, a constant stream working itself into a centurion's face this time, reducing his head to molten slag before he fell to the ground, dead. The rifle's energy not yet spent, he stopped and then fired again as he swept the beam across the bellies of two relocating assault troopers, killing them instantly as their molten intestines collapsed from their open chests, spilling onto the floor as they did. This caused Cerberus to try and fall back, but all this dead was leave them open for the salarians to pour fire into their backs, vanquishing them.

Cerberus reinforcements quickly arrived in the form of three kodiaks, rapidly deploying their squads before heading off back to their mothership. These squads learnt quickly, and utilized their cover much more efficiently, preparing to open fire on EDI when the sound of whirring could be heard, and then Mordin's smiling voice came through his comm.

"EDI did excellent job. Elevator up and running again. Will meet you on landing pad."

"Wait Mordin," he turned to the salarian, suddenly very curious, "Just how the hell did Cerberus find out about this transfer? They couldn't have known there was a female krogan here or what our objective was, and no salarian would willingly sell information to a pro-human terrorist organization."

"Possible mole in STG. Could be indoctrinated," the salarian surmized as the elevator was almost out of sight, switching to comms to finish his deduction, "Will not know now. No longer important. Eve must be extracted."

"Copy," he switched off his comms, turning to the salarian team, "You here to help us?"

"Negative," one salarian declared, motioning his squad to take positions and for his techs to head for the terminals, "We have our orders from Director Wiks. Purge this area of information and move on. We cannot allow Cerberus to gain sensitive information from this base."

 _They're not here for the information. They're here for Eve._ "Very well, soldier. Let's deal with these troopers so we can continue."

Cerberus was much more well fortified at this point, with two turrets deployed on each side of the entrance to the next corridor. He could hear one of the squad's centurions shouting out orders, "Sir, they're heading up to the next level! Should we engage?"

The centurion never got an answer a grenade landed next to him, tossed by Marcus, and it detonated, colouring the walls with his remains. The attack tore off limps from several other troopers around him, and the remainder watched in horror as their turret was hacked by EDI, their combat engineer unable to retake it, and it turned on them, tearing them to shreds as they attempted to fall back or disable it.

With the turret now friendly, Marcus moved forward, motioning for Javik and Liara to follow behind him, James, Keeling, Garrus, Kasumi and EDI keeping the other side occuped in the mean time. Holstering his rifle and bringing his SMG to bear, he brought out his omni-blade in the other one and swung around the corner, Javik's particle rifle keeping him covered while his blade sunk deep into the chest of an unsuspecting dragoon that had been trying to sneak up on him. What a lucky hit.

Tearing the blade out, he proceeded to turn around, only to find himself wrapped in another dragoon's biotic aura, and tossed away like a rag doll to land at the feet of a guardian. The shock trooper lifted his shield with the intention of crushing him with it, but quickly found himself losing balance as a biotic warp knocked him aside, followed by a burst of SMG fire biting into his back, killing him. He rolled onto his side to see Liara holding a hand out to help him up, and he gratefully took it.

As he turned, he saw Javik finish the rest of the enemy squad with his rifle, cutting through them like cheese. And as he turned, he saw that his squad was having no trouble picking off the second squad, having almost dealt with them when the third squad abruptly broke off, centurion leading the way, as they disengaged from the battlefield and began to head for the stairs at the end. Marcus instantly realized where they were headed.

"Oh no you don't!" Came Wrex's voice over the comms, and before he knew what the krogan meant by that, the centurion became a thick red fog, the Wrex-controlled Normandy shuttle coming to cover before the Cerberus squad, who seemed suddenly confused. Not giving them time to collect themselves, Wrex fired up the shuttle's cannons once more, red hot shells popping the soldiers like balloons, sending jets of red up into the air, or splashing onto the ground. Either way, it was a bloodbath, and by the time Wrex finished, the entire Cerberus squad was just...gone.

"You're welcome Shepard," Wrex dryly stated, "I need to get going; got a pyjak on my tail." As if to punctuate his point, a rocket streamed past the shuttle, slamming into a wall and causing it to explode outward, and the shuttle quickly turned and shot off, a Cerberus A-67 Mantis in close pursuit.

"Let's keep going," Marcus ordered, catching his breath as the others finished up and caught up, "We need to get off this planet as fast as possible."

They quickly approached the end, meeting no further resistance from Cerberus forces, but they did encounter more dead STG troops. But luckily, this time, there was a few Cerberus dead to make up for it, and some of them were even centurions and guardians, even including a single dragoon, slumped against a console and his entire back torn open, as if hit by a high-powered explosive.

They continued through the door, Marcus turning left and seeing a pair of stairs leading up to the next level. He motioned for them to follow, and he heard Garrus' low growl, as if angered by all he had seen, "Cerberus is pretty serious about this. I mean...they lured an entire fleet away and risked an attack on the salarian homeworld. The Illusive Man must be desperate to stop us."

"They're capable of anything," Marcus agreed as they climbed the stairwell.

As they climbed, they could hear a grunt, followed by a few brief bouts of gunfire. An explosion soon followed, initiated by what seemed to be a loud, instant beep. The sound of melee combat could be heard, along with the grunts of Cerberus soldiers as they exerted effort in taking out their target.  _Must be a tough bastard._

Reaching the top, they turned left, and their eyes immediately found four dead assault troopers, along with a single centurion slumped against a wall, helmet ripped off and face caved in. Looking up, they saw another dead trooper, and just in time, they watched a familiar salarian grab the shoulders of the last assault trooper, who was winded, and drive a knee into his face, knocking the man unconscious as he fell backwards, hitting the ground with a thump as EDI finished him off with a clip to the face.

Seeing and hearing the gunshot connect, the salarian turned around, odd white pistol in hand but stopped when he saw Marcus, smiling, "Captain, glad you're here. Seems like Virmire all over again; except we're the ones under attack."

"Seems like it," Marcus replied, "I was wondering if you were still alive, Major. Good to see you are."

Kirrahe nodded, a grim smile on his face, "My squad is dead, but I managed to get one of those biotic ones down below."

"Wait, those dead soldiers down there...that was your squad and your kills?"

Kirrahe's smile only widened, "We salarians are harder than we look, Captain. But these Cerberus bastards are a tough nut to crack, as you humans would say," he peeked around the corner, shooting back at what he saw, "We've got a Cerberus squad at the end of the hall; one combat engineer deploying a turret, with one centurion, three guardians, a nemesis and six assault troopers; all of them taking up defensive positions. They'll have a good choke point if we stay here. We need to retreat."

He placed a hand on Kirrahe's chest to halt the salarian's fall back, his eyes meeting the major's, "We need to continue this way, Major. We're currently extracting the last hope for the krogan people and we need to be on that landing pad when Mordin and the subject arrives."

"Wait, Solus is here? Sneaky man, Solus is. Managed to be present without me knowing," he shook his head, "Very well, Captain."

"Now we just need to figure out how to get past-"

"That problem has already solved itself, Captain," Kirrahe stated, and as the spectre watched, he walked right out into the open, taking aim at the squad with his pristine white weapon, still curious at what it was.

"I don't-" he began, but what was cut off as the pistol gave four, simple thumps, like that of a grenade launcher, and he turned the corner to watch the projectiles, which were small, white-bluish brightly glowing balls of light, come to land. One stuck onto the head of the combat engineer, another stuck bypassed the slit of a guardian and stuck to  _his_ head, another stuck to the Nemesis' foot, and the final one impacted the barrel of the centurion's mattock. The rest was worthy of inducing epileptic seizures.

Detonating in cascading balls of blue fire, the projectiles reduced their recipients to chunks of meat as the entire upper torso of the combat engineer and guardian was torn apart, the Nemesis was totally shredded from the neck down, and the centurion's front body was torn asunder, metal twisted and ripped. Shouts of shock went through them, and Garrus whistled as Marcus moved out, squad following, and quickly dispatching the surprised soldiers. They were eliminated in seconds, the turret already dealt with by the first explosion.

"I need one of those," Garrus stated, continuing to admire the weapon.

Kirrahe, seemingly smug, holstered his unique weapon, and James couldn't help but ask, his obsession with weapons bettering him, "What in the world was that? That was some sick shit."

"Scorpion heavy pistol, salarian design," Kirrahe quickly explained, "Special forces weapon for Special Tasks Group. Although I've heard it's going to be entering all militaries now, with this war going on," he turned to Marcus, motioning for him to continue, "Come on, follow me. I'll show you a shortcut to the landing pad."

He nodded, motioning for the squad to follow Kirrahe. The salarian in question made his way over to a door on the right, bringing up his omni-tool and uploading his special security codes to the door. Shooting open, they marched through, running up the corridor and up the stairs to Level 2, where they found more Cerberus soldiers.

Dealing with them was easy, and they soon found it to be a game of finding the right way up. After moving through numerous corridors, they finally found themselves following Kirrahe up a ladder and onto the upper platform of the landing pad they had been on before, Marcus immediately recognizing the reception area from before.

As they revived, they saw Mordin preparing to open the pod, only to stop as gunfire poured into the shielded glass, the salarian quickly finding that the entire area was swarming in Cerberus, having been taken from the STG ages ago. But that didn't mean it would stay that way.

Suddenly, Marcus stopped as he watched a black armoured form uncloak, katana like weapon in hand and eyes covered with black apparations, mouth creased in a sneer. He had black hair tied in a pony tail, with asian features and tanned skin. He moved with grace and precision, and Marcus couldn't help but recognize his profile from the Cerberus database back on Eden Prime.

"That's Kai Leng," Marcus hissed, turning to his squad and Kirrahe, brandishing his weapon, "The man who murdered Shala's husband. He's mine."

The group nodded, along with Kirrahe, who may not have understood who Shala was, but knew a personal vendetta when he saw one. Turning to James, he took the man's Revenant, handing him his mattock temporarily as his squad took up position around the unsuspecting Cerberus troops.

As he took his own position, Marcus could hear Leng snarling at Mordin, "Open the damn door frog, and maybe both your deaths will be quick and painless."

"Believes insults will move me. Idiotic. Blinded by racism. Typical of Cerberus ignorance," Mordin replied, clearly not feeling very threatened.

"Very well," Leng hissed, shaking his head, "You want to do it the hard way, then we'll oblige. The hard way it is. Men, kill them. Both. I'm going to find and deal with-"

"-looking for me, scumbag?"

Leng whirled on the spot in time to see a Revenant aimed straight at him and pouring bullets into him. His kinetic barriers were annihilated, but he was able to escape the storm of bullets, rushing off into cover as Marcus continued to fire, face contorted in rage. The rest of the squad plus Kirrahe raised and began to fire in unison, taking the Cerberus forces completely by surprise.

The centurion's head was reduced to a pile of gore, and five assault troopers gunned down haplessly as they all tried to seek cover, but unable to find any, as all of it was useless against an elevated enemy. All the guardians fell very quickly, and the two Nemesis' fell almost instantly, their sniper rifles useless in CQB. One by one, they fell, and Marcus could see Leng getting angrier and angrier at the sight. Finally, when the last trooper fell, Marcus stopped firing, glaring at the cover the assassin was using.

"Give it up Leng," Marcus snarled, reloading his weapon as he approached the man's cover, "It's over. You've got nowhere to go, and I'm going to kill you regardless, so why don't you come out and  _fight me_. Or do you like fighting men who can't fight back?"

"You dribble about nonsense, Shepard," Leng growled, sounding like a rabid dog, "And you're just an old man who's out of his time."

"This old man has you by the balls," he snapped back, "And don't play coy with me. You murdered Shala'Raan's husband when you raided the Flotilla. My aunt. You think you can do something like that and get away with it? Noone. Fucks. With. My. Family."

"Ah...you mean the suit-rat," Leng hissed, something of a smug grin in his smile, "Admiral Raan cried like a little rat when I killed him. Killing quarians just gives me this...satisfaction that I need to keep up. Satisfaction is pleasure, is it not? So when I kill aliens, I feel pleasure. When I kill suit-rats, I feel like I've done the galaxy a favor. Killing him was a pleasure I cannot begin to explain with  _words_."

Finally having enough, Marcus rounded the corner, LMG bared, only to suddenly found a sword slicing through it, cutting it in half before he was roughly side-kicked in the chest, sending him flying onto his back. The force of the kick was too powerful for a normal man.  _This guy has cybernetics like me. Shit._ Looking up, he got a single glimpse of Leng's smug smile before he began to run for the edge. Snarling in fury, Marcus ordered his team to gun the man down, but he had already jumped over the edge...

...right into the troop bay of an awaiting kodiak shuttle. And unlike Mars with Eva, Leng did escape, the last Marcus saw being a wide grin as the hatch closed and the shuttle shot off towards the frigate hovering above. Marcus merely watched, pure hate in his eyes.  _You can run all you like Leng. But one day, you'll face me, and then I'll fucking kill you._

Getting to his feet, he ordered his squad to secure the area, holding his chest as he steadied his breathing, severely winded by the assassin's kick. He had underestimated him, but wouldn't do so again; this man was not your average Cerberus soldier.  _Still, his racism and cockiness will surely get him killed at some point. That'll be his end._

"Captain," Kirrahe suddenly exclaimed, "We need to get to-"

Marcus was knocked from his feet again as something akin to the force of an atom bomb slammed into the landing pad behind them, causing him to flip forward and slam his head into the ground, wincing as his nose smashed against the face of his helmet. Gritting his teeth, he rolled over to find what the hell could have made such a tremor, but the whirring of gears, grinding of metal and the sheer size of the colossus immediately told him everything.

Standing on the landing pad, bearing down on all of them, was an Atlas mech.

He heard the clunk of a missile being loaded into its right arm, and then watched as it aimed upwards and forward, the roar of a gunship suddenly being cut off by a tremendous explosion. Shortly after, they watched the gunship, now a ball of flames, fly past them and crash into the jungle scenery below, the quake of it easily felt.

Wrex's voice shot through his comms, and he saw the shuttle lazily hovering nearby, staying well out of the Atlas' range, "Shepard! We can't land until you deal with that thing! Its too dangerous!"

Marcus watched the enormous, hulking mech begin to move slowly towards them, its HMG working up a maelstrom of bullets as they raided their position, his team falling into cover, with Marcus trapped behind one of the consoles. Mordin shrunk back, trying not to be spotted, but suddenly sprang up when they saw the Atlas turn to face Eve.  _Oh shit!_

Seemingly out of nowhere, a familiar ball of light appeared and stuck to the back of the Atlas, exploding as it made a tiny dent in the mech's heavy armor and scorched it, causing the pilot to turn to assess the threat. Marcus did so as well, watching Kirrahe retreated back into cover, but not before firing two more shots that made the same result.

"Kasumi, anything you can do?" Marcus asked, realizing it was a dumb question before even asking it.

"What can I do? I'm a thief! I don't have any heavy weapons!" the thief retorted, unable to comprehend why he was even asking her to begin with.

"James?"

"I still got those unused cobra missiles from Eden Prime," James stated, "Been waiting to get my chance to use 'em."

"Then by all means, Lieutenant, fire away. Take down that Atlas," he commed Keeling, "Lieutenant, you're with him. Head for the landing pad and get its attention long enough for James to hit it in the back. Keep it away from Eve  _at all costs_. We lose her, and we lose everything! Move!"

"Shepard," Mordin addressed, Marcus turning to the salarian, who was currently typing into his console, "Nearest salarian reinforcements distracted. Cannot help us. Situation problematic."

"We'll deal with this, Mordin. Just hold tight," he replied, peeking over cover to see Keeling's valkyrie shots pinging uselessly off its armor, but being enough to garner the pilot's attention, bringing the mech around to face the landing pad, putting its back to the rest of Marcus' squad. Without further hesitation, he turned to James, signalling him, "Now! Everything you got until its dead!"

He watched James round the corner, brandishing his cobra missile launcher. He brought the weapon to bear on the enemy mech, but before he could press the trigger, a familiar roar was heard, along with more thumping.

Then, like a raging demon, the wall on the left split open, showering more dirt, rock and steel upon the people below as the yahg from before, or maybe it was another one, emerged, looking for a target. Finding it in the form of an unaware Atlas, which was now turning to see what the commotion was about, the yahg leapt forward, snarling in fury.

James didn't even bother firing his missile payload as the yahg came to land ontop of the mech, the pilot panicking as he tried to rip it off. The yahg continued to bang its fist against the metal carapace, bellowing all its anger as it found a grip and began ripping pieces of armor from the large machine. The large death machine was reduced to uselessness, its weaponry unable to rid itself of the naked alien that was currently ripping it apart.

Finally, the yahg slid down its back, beginning to rip off tubing. Hisses were heard as the oxygen tank was disconnected, followed by the cooling system and heat defusor. Away they came, piece by piece, hissing heard as their piping hung limp at the Atlas' back. Finally however, the pilot was regaining his wits and suddenly launched itself back, slamming the yahg against a support strut, causing it to let go as it fell to the ground, but true to yahg culture, it did not scream in agony; yahg were bred from birth to be warriors. And with that breeding, came the ability to be ignorant to fear, and most of all, invulnerable to pain.

The Atlas turned around, bringing its HMG to aim, but the yahg grabbed the barrel and threw it off course, the hail of bullets instead tearing into the Atlas' own leg, shredding it until the leg split off all together, causing it to topple. It fell onto its back with a large bang, its weapon shooting up in a arc, sending bullets with it, pinging off the shield protecting Eve. The yahg leapt ontop of the mech, and the pilot could only watch in horror as its fists slammed down, smashing the cockpit, glass showering the pilot. To his credit, he did not show any fear, continuing to wield the controls like nothing happened, and then, in one final act of spite towards the creature, he brought his cannon up to aim at the yahg's side.

The yahg slammed his fist into the man's ribcage just as he discharged the mech's weapon. The yahg's side was caved in, its ribcage blown open in a flash of bright gore, its insides swirled, mutilated, superheated and blown apart. The yahg was blown back from the force, slamming into the floor as its guts spilled onto the floor, a massive hole in its side as the life left its eyes.

The rest of the squad merely watched in shock at what they had seen, and James eventually cried out, ending the silence with a 'fuck yeah!' before lowering and holstering his missile launcher. Keeling slowly emerged, keeping her weapon trained on the collapsed mech while Marcus simply got up, holstering his weapon as he rapidly approached it, passing the dead yahg as Javik nudged it with his rifle, making sure it was dead.

The spectre climbed ontop of the large vehicle, and what he saw inside the cockpit was truly sickening. The man's belly had popped from the force of the yahg's fist hitting him, his helmet mangled and armor dented inwards. Marcus shook his head as the crimson blood poured from the man's chest. He winced at the coppery smell, leaning and crouching next to the man, who seemed to twist his head slightly, Marcus widening his eyes in horror.  _This fucker is still alive..._

Seeing his chance for an interrogation, he reached down and ripped the man's helmet off, and looked down, meeting the man's huskified eyes, glowing blue, red blood dribbling from his lips, the rest of his face soaked in red and black. Sighing, he tossed the helmet away, wondering if the man's vocal cords even still worked. Unholstering his SMG, he spoke, ignoring the sound of an elevator lifting up and a shuttle landing nearby, "You're going to tell me exactly why Cerberus is here," he growled, "If you do, I'll end your misery. If not, I'll leave you here to choke on your own blood. Make your choice quickly."

"Screw...yo..." he coughed, "Go...to-" he gave a final wheeze before his glowing cybernetics suddenly turned to nothing, winking out of existence as they lost their glow. The pilot was dead.

Sighing in irritation, he got up from the Atlas and leapt down from it, watching his squad forming upstairs. Seeing that Mordin had loaded the elevator onto the bi-rail and onto the upper platform by now, he rushed up in time to see the glass recede, Mordin offering a hand to Eve to help her down.

The salarian quickly found himself roughly shoved aside by Wrex, the krogan glaring at the professor before turning, offering his own hand instead, "Let's get you out of here."

Promptly ignoring the hand offered, Eve stepped down of her own accord with grace in her step, coming to stand beside Wrex and giving him a look that said she didn't need help. Wrex dropped his hand dejectedly, before suddenly piping up as he heard the sound of jet thrusters. Everyone turned to the source to watch a lone centurion land nearby, mattock raising as he aimed at Eve, "We've got the kroga-"

Eve, taking advantage of Wrex's daze, tore the claymore from his grip and took aim, pulling the trigger. The shell tore through shield, armor and flesh, completely gutting the centurion as he was thrown backwards from the blast, slamming into a wall and toppling over the edge, chest shredded completely by the shot.

Everyone turned to Marcus, Kasumi giggling at Wrex's shocked expression as Eve shoved the heavy shotgun back into his chest, giving him a very dry look, "I can look after myself Wrex," with that, she left with the same grace she had exiting the elevator, heading towards the elevator. Wrex simply watched her go, before shaking his head, snorting as he eyed Marcus, "Women."

"Don't act too surprised Wrex," Liara quipped, sporting her own grin as she followed Kasumi to the shuttle, the rest of the squad quickly following. Wrex moved over and gripped Marcus' shoulder, smiling a large grin.

"You did it Shepard," he stated, "Now we only need to get this cure done."

"Will help," Mordin piped up, both of them turning to the professor who stood at attention, "Made it personal goal to cure genophage. Helped modify. Will see it done. Look forward to returning to work on it. Modfied Maelon's data. Will help in synthezation," he took in a large breath, smiling, "Request permission to rejoin Normandy."

"Well...welcome back, Mordin," Marcus grinned, shaking the salarian's hand before he entered the shuttle. Turning to Kirrahe, the major holstered his pistol before shaking Marcus' hand.

"Unfortunately, I will not be joining you, Captain," the salarian stated sadly, "Alpha Site's taken quite a bad hit, and I need to assess whether Director Wiks is dead or not so we can establish command again. Once that's done, we'll begin an accounting of casualties and take care of that-"

A thunderous boom shook through the base; it could only have been the sound of an FTL drive engaging in atmosphere. They all looked up, and with no roof, were able to witness a blink of light as the Cerberus frigate disappeared into FTL, escaping intact and with Kai Leng.  _I'll find you again, Leng. You can't run forever. We'll meet again._

Kirrahe, watching the sky for a few seconds, turned back to Marcus, shrugging, "We'll deal with what's left of the Cerberus forces, and we'll send the all clear to the fleets to let them know it was a fluke. There's alot of rebuilding to be done."

"Its a pity you can't come Major, but we understand," he nodded, hands clasped behind his back, "I'd better get going. Don't want the Dalatrass to have a change of heart now, right?"

"Very true," Kirrahe smiled, nodding, "Remember, no matter what happens, you can count on the First Infiltration Division to fight by your side. We fight for the UGC now, and we fight the Reapers, and Cerberus. And please, call me Kirrahe. I think we're past formalities."

"Very well...Kirrahe," with a final nod, he turned and left for the shuttle, Wrex behind him as they listened to the crackle of flames, the continuous blare of sirens, and the sounds of gunfire dying down as Cerberus forces were pushed back.

The salarians had been shaken by the attack, but he had a feeling that would only make making them join the UGC all the more easier. And with Eve now on the Normandy and Mordin synthesizing the cure, all things were looking hopeful.

He hoped it stayed that way.

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1631 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Primarch Adrien Victus._

Marcus stood there, overlooking the holographic table as it presented to him a holographic representation of the superweapon they were building; it was immense, and one of the greatest projects in human history; and even he did not know the location of its construction site; the site itself was where the weapon was built, as well as serving as the headquarters of the hastily drawn up UGC.

Hackett had contacted him not too long ago to inform that the project was well under way, and to wish him good luck in securing the krogan-turian alliance: he was going to need it. He also told him that he recently reserved word from Kirrahe of his new change in allegiance, and Hackett thanked him for the support.

The Fleet Admiral also told him that they had uncovered a name from the prothean data for the superweapon; they had called it the Crucible. So, in following prothean example, the UGC had jointly named the project 'Crucible,' giving the Reaper-killer a name to call it by instead of 'prothean superweapon.' And now Marcus stood before the table, looking down into its depths, willing it to give him some answers.

None were given; yes, the Crucible was being built, but it wasn't being built fast enough; they needed more people on the project. They needed the best engineers in the galaxy. Unfortunately for him, the quarians were nowhere to be found, noone was willing to contact the geth and the Salarian Union remained firmly on the sidelines. He had told Hackett about the salarian and asari stance on it, and his response had been a nod, followed by sigh, 'They'll regret that.'

So now he simply stood here, waiting; for what? He didn't know. They were heading to the Citadel to catch their breath, restock and then they would head out again. They also needed to shell out some credits in buying the stock Mordin needed for the cure, which he was currently well at work creating in the Tech Lab on the same deck he was on, the salarian confused at why they bothered switching the lab when all it did was get moved to the other side. In response, he shrugged and said he didn't understand it either. Eve was also in the Tech Lab, along with Wrex, who had been requested to stay so Mordin could take a blood sample. The krogan had reluctantly agreed, although it was clear to Marcus now that the battlemaster had a fear of needles. Apparently that phobia transcended all species.

It was a waiting game now; wait for the genophage cure to be created, and then find a way to disperse it so all krogan got it. Wrex had already sent out a message to all krogan over the news network on the extranet, calling all krogan to Tuchanka in preparation for release of the genophage cure. Wouldn't be much help if the cure was released and alot of krogan didn't get it, would it?

"To think...soon, we'll make history. A thousand years in the making," Victus pondered, garnering Marcus' full attention, "And I'll have encouraged its occurence. I, a turian."

Marcus gave a weak smile, nodding, "This war seems to be filled with ironies and idiosyncrasies, doesn't it? Everytime we do something, we're either editing the history books or killing some important figure. And yet we still can't win."

"You'll have cured the genophage. And the krogan will join the UGC. We'll be stronger for it," Victus countered.

"And it'll all mean nothing if the Crucible isn't completed. It's our only hope," he sighed, bracing against the table as he switched off the holo interface, turning to face the turian primarch fully, "The Reapers will win, and Cerberus will become the next Collectors for cycles to come. I'll do my best, we'll  _all_  do our best to beat them, but if that superweapon isn't built, it'll all be for nothing."

"Then let it be built," the primarch responded, "With volus and turian engineers. Get us the krogan, Shepard, and you will have your workers."

"I intend to do so," Marcus replied, nodding, "Even if it means I have to kill a Dalatrass to do it, I will. Nothing will get in my way of getting the entire galaxy united. Nothing."

"You're a man of your word. Anyone who heard that would believe it, I assure you," Victus declared, "If only the Council could be so swayed. Or the asari, or salarians."

"They'll join us if they know what's right," he stated, coming to stand straighter from the table, "And if they don't? Then the Reapers will destroy them, as they did those of the last cycle. Keep up the good work Primarch. I will be in my cabin if you need me; you only need contact EDI to let me know," he turned and prepared to leave, only to be interrupted when the Primarch shouted out, and he turned around, meeting the man's eyes.

"If this cure works, then the war is already won."

Marcus gave a meek smile, turning to leave as he did.

"The war is won when the Crucible fires. Not before."

**"So I guess this was the interim period between the construction of the cure and its deployment? From what I heard, it was a long interim, but a very busy interim. Care to explain?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"First off, we headed for the Citadel to restock. But while that was going on, the war was still raging. And Liara was at work on something very important. Very...futurisque."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Like what?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Like a key to the past."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yes, we have alot to cover during the interim. And yes, Mordin gets his lab back. Its not like you can form a life changing cure for a massive virus in just an ordinary medical bay on a warship; so yes, he gets actual stuff to do that with. And during that period, we get busy. Which means side missions; and by side missions, I'm talking the ones that involved character cameos. Which, yes, means Priority: Tuchanka won't be for a while. Oh well...lots of cool stuff inbetween!** _

_**I'll leave you to wonder which ones. ;)** _

_**We'll see Tali again soon, I promise! The story genre is 'Romance and Adventure,' after all!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	16. This Isn't A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cerberus besieges Grissom Academy to abduct its biotically gifted students: they didn't count on their teacher. A turian lieutenant eager to prove himself embarks on a covert mission of galactic importance on Tuchanka. Liara asks for Shepard's input in a post-war contingency. Krogan commandos investigate a disturbance on Utukku.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN:**

**THIS ISN'T A GAME**

_June 9, 2186_

_1429 hours._

_Jon Grissom Memorial Hall, Central School Block, Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Petra Campaign: Cerberus Raid on Grissom Academy._

_Senior Teacher Jack, Senior Program Coordinator Kahlee Sanders._

"Get moving! Prangley, move your ass! You think this is the time for an ice cream social?  _Move it!_ " And they did. The school halls were awash with students running frantically to escape the invaders. Some were scared, others tried to shove their fear down with false bravado. Others tried to take on the invaders single-handedly, only to be either gunned down mercilessly or captured. In the end, fleeing was the best way to survive; and the most risky. Yes, Grissom Academy was a gigantic space station; a matter of fact, it was roughly the same size as Arcturus Station, but that didn't mean that any invader wouldn't find you; they'd simply scan the station for any lifesigns and, if failing that or lacking it, they'd search every cranny; it'd take a while, but they'd eventually find you. Many of Jack's students had learnt that the hard way.

She didn't know about anyone else, but as far as Jack was concerned, they were either still running, fighting, dead or captured; either way, it wasn't any of Jack's concern. Kahlee Sanders, the head director of the Ascension Program, was with her, as were all of her students, and that's all that mattered to her.

The sound of the air being distorted nearby was heard, followed by the sound of a door being blown off its hinges, gunfire tearing through the air it occupied soon after. The sound of this stirred something in Jack, because soon after she was shouting even louder at the kids behind her, some protective urge being stirred up inside her as she ushered them forward.  _What the fuck is up with me? I'm not their fucking mother. I shouldn't act like this._

They came across a locked door, and Kahlee quickly entered her security code, interface turning green and quickly opening as they moved through the sterile white halls, some of them scorched and burnt from gunshots and flames. One door was jammed open, and another was half blown off by a piece of debris, the dead body of an alliance security guard laying next to it, his rifle discarded. Kahlee quickly rushed over to him, whispering a mourning prayer before taking his rifle, checking it for clips before hefting it.

"You know how to use that, Sanders?" Jack asked, her curiosity peaked.

Kahlee laughed, "I may be old, but I'm not too old. Besides, I had a friend who was an N7," her eyes seemed to deviate slightly, sadness in her eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared though, and she looked back up, smiling more, motioning to the weapon in her grip, "He taught me a few things, especially how to properly fire a rifle. Although it won't matter a damn if those Cerberus bastards corner us."

 _Fucking Cerberus._ Jack hated Cerberus with a passion, and it wasn't without reason. Those bastards had kidnapped her from her home on Eden Prime when she was a child for their own version of the Ascension Program; they transformed her through torture, murder, punishment, training and conditioning into the ultimate biotic killing machine; bred to destroy her enemies. Now she was not only the deadliest and meanest biotic bitch in the galaxy, but she  _enjoyed_ it. It had only been thanks to Marcus Shepard for rescuing her and later, a justicar named Samara turning her away from her path of anger, that she had been saved from her dark path. But now she had one goal in life, aside from transforming herself into a better person.

She was going to find the Illusive Man, kill him, and destroy Cerberus from the inside out. She swore on it. She would make him  _pay_ for what he did to her; what his cronies did to her. His minions of morons, dickheads and pro-human supremacist racist assholes.

Was it coincidence that they now lay siege to this station?

They continued to run and they eventually came across a door at the end, Kahlee moving to enter the security code only for the interface to beep angrily back at them, the woman sighing in annoyance. "Dammit, no! Not now! If only Herchel was still here, dammit!" she turned towards Jack, who was rolling her eyes, "We can't-wait, what are you doing?"

"Do you pay attention to what happens around you?" Jack growled, glowing with her full biotic might, "We're fucking  _biotics_!" And with a thunderous roar that was very unfemininistic of her, she shot her hands forward, a constant tornado of blue fire cascading forward and slamming into the door, shaking it from its door and blowing it away like leaves on a wind, where they then crashed into the ground ten meters away.

Everyone merely looked at her incredulously, everyone looking shocked. Her biotics dying down, she merely looked at all of them, shrugging, "What the hell are you looking at?"

"Holy..." Rodrigez, one of her students, began, "How did you  _do_ that?"

"Through torture, murder and alot of pain," she scowled, giving her a dangerous look, "Would you like to learn?"

"I think I'll pass."

"Didn't think you had the balls, princess," she looked at Kahlee, who was already moving through the door, "Now move, you sissies!"

Everyone rushed through the open doorway and up the stairs into the Jon Grissom Memorial Hall; the biggest room in the Academy. It was easily 50 meters in length, with a large statue of Jon Grissom sitting in the middle; his chiseled face, hardened cheeks and grizzly brown hair captured perfectly in the stone. Catwalks ran along the sides of the room in the multi-tiered level, with numerous entrances, and the docking bay just outside; something that would help them escape this station.

Unfortunately, they weren't the only ones who had thought of this.

Standing infront of the statue was a centurion, and two guardians, and all three immediately turned at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. The centurion spoke almost immediately, holding up his armoured hand in warning, "You! Stop right there! Don't move! Surrender yourselves now, and noone will-"

"Heard it all before, asshole!" Jack cut off, and like a master would their puppet, she plucked him off the ground with her biotics and tossed him into a wall with extreme force, the sound of hundreds of bones shattering like glass from the impact being heard as he slid to the ground, dead.

With practised precision, she pulled up a biotic field to protect her students from the gunfire coming from the guardians' Talon pistols. The heavy rounds that would normally gut a person pinged harmlessly off the barrier, and suddenly found themselves slamming into the statue as Jack sent her field forward with amazing velocity. And with their shields hanging at their sides, both dazed, Kahlee took aim and popped both in the head, killing them.

"Cerberus assholes have gotten upgrades," Jack pondered, noticing their armor and their voices, "Cybernetics, I'd guess. Before they had only incompetent fuckwits with guns."

"Will you please watch the language!" Kahlee insisted, finally having enough as she turned to chastize her, "The children do not need to listen to such savagery!"

"Whatever you fu-you ha-" she sighed, rubbing her temples, "Just...whatever. Let's just find a shuttle and get the hell out of here."

Satisfied with her victory, Kahlee pressed forward, hefting her rifle with renewed purpose. The students followed behind in their terrified manner, while Jack took up the back, eying them with increased vigour, eying their every movement as if it was her personal business. She heard their mutters of discent, the odd whisper, and every single mumble.

"...is David? He said he'd be here! I hope that retard hasn't gotten himself killed..."

"...are we going to die? What will they do to us if we give up?"

"...we should fight them! We can hold them off! We've got Jack!"

Every whisper told a different story, another side to the opinions swirling around; she agreed with some, others she didn't. But she knew they had to escape; facing Cerberus up front with a hand full of kids was a suicide run, and not only that, but it would end with all of them killed; even Jack had a limit to her abilities, and she would eventually tire out. No, escape was the best and most viable option; the only way they would survive.

Suddenly, a voice came in over the PA, and Jack knew it wasn't one of the Academy's teachers or original occupants speaking through it, because their voice was cybernetic, just like the Cerberus troopers they had just encountered. Which meant exactly what they feared; Cerberus now controlled the station, and there was nowhere they could hide.

The voice spoke with a very heavy british accent, laced with cybernetic enhancement and a cyborg gurgle, "Students of Grissom Academy, this is the Captain of the Cerberus Heavy Cruiser CAW Hannibal," he stated, his voice calm and collected, secure knowing his victory was paramount, "We have the station completely secured. My ship is currently orbitting your station, and will destroy any shuttles attempting to leave or enter, so do not expect escape or any help from the Alliance; they cannot save you. My troops will scour the station and eventually find you, so do not think of hiding. However, you do not have to die; that is not our intention at all. We would wish to end this on peaceful circumstances," the man continued, droning like a good Cerberus puppet, "Join Cerberus, and you will find our hospitality to be much better than the Alliance's; what have they done for you but abandon you? No help has come, and yet the Reapers still encroach on this system everyday; they will harvest you eventually. But Cerberus stands for humanity; we can help you. Join us, and fight for humanity. That is your choice, and believe me, is a noble one. The Illusive Man only wishes for the best in you; and you are humanity's finest. We-"

"I'm getting real sick of this piece of sh-" she sighed, trying not to swear, but feeling the urge to be undeniably great. She wheeled on her students, pointing an accusing finger at the PA, "Don't listen to this, kids! He's a filthy fuc-liar! Cerberus will do to you what they did to me! They kidnapped me and turned me into a biotic powerhouse bred to kill! And when they have their chance, they will implant a control chip in your brain and you'll be nothing but their little puppet! Is that what you want? You want to be like me? Then fight Cerberus! Don't let these liars get to you! They think you're gullible; gullible because you're scared. Well don't be! Use that fear and make it your superweapon!"

The students nodded, with only one pumping his fist into the air enthusiastically, whooing his support. Kahlee nodded, and all the students turned to her for added agreement. She nodded again, smiling, "Jack nailed it, I believe. Cerberus is not to be trusted. The Alliance hasn't abandoned you; but with Earth fallen, they've got alot to deal with."

"But if what they said is true..." Prangley began, gulping, "What about that cruiser? It'll shoot us down if we try to escape!"

"And there's no doubt they've got all outbound communications!" Rodrigez added.

"Actually...there may be one channel they don't know about," Kahlee pondered, all eyes turning to her.

"So what about it?" Jack asked, eyes widening in anticipation, "What's this secret channel all about?"

"It's when we use for emergencies. When all channels are being blocked and we need to send out a distress call," she nodded, "But I'd need to get to the control center, and that's all the way at the main docking tube. Inside Cerberus controlled territory, most likely. But I can reach it."

Jack saw the uncertainty in the woman's face, "Why do I get a feeling there's a catch?"

"I have to go there alone. I can't risk the students being found. I'd might as well hand them straight to Cerberus by taking them there," she sighed, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder. The biotic didn't like it, and she almost contemplated cussing at her until she let go, but for some reason, she didn't do that this time. Maybe she was changing. Maybe she was growing up, "It's up to you Jack. I'll go get there and send a distress call, but you have to protect these students. They are your pupils," she waved her hand at them, "They depend on you to keep them safe. Can you do that Jack?"

_I've always been a survivor. I know the different ways to survive; murder, destruction, silence, interrogation, hiding, defenses, offenses...every single one. It won't be easy, but if I can apply those skills to keeping kids safe? I can do it. I'll show Shepard what I'm capable of. I'm going to keep these kids safe, kick some Cerberus ass, and then escape this bloody hellhole. Preferrably through the debris of a destroyed cruiser._

Jack nodded with confidence, eying the children, "You bet your ass, I can. And we'll kick some Cerberus ass while doing it," she turned to a door on the opposite end of the room, "If I remember correctly, that doorway leads to an adjacent corridor that should us to the central mess hall. I went there when I was in my early months as a teacher; from what I swore, it has good, defensible positions; long enough to hold off Cerberus until the Alliance arrives, or whoever picks up the distress call. Just be quick about it, Sanders," she turned to the woman fully, glaring at her, "Because I doubt Cerberus has much patience, and they have a warship holding orbit above us."

"A fact I'm very aware of," Kahlee glared back, turning to run off, "Good luck! We'll meet again soon, students! Stay safe and do what Jack says!" And with that, she was gone, disappearing into one of the corridors nearby, leaving just herself and the students.

They could hear more explosions nearby, followed by the sound of running feet and voices. Cerberus forces were getting closer. Shaking her head, she turned to the students, pointing to the door she mentioned earlier, "Well come on! We don't have time to fu-stuff around! Let's get moving!"

The students nodded and began moving in one, big mass, but Prangley hung behind, the man's innocent features not befitting a man of nineteen as he seemed to shiver in trepidation, "What about Cerberus? What happens if they catch us?"

She turned to him, giving him a look that spoke a thousand horrors in one look.

"You'll have multiple mes," she replied, shoving a finger at the door, "Now get moving. Unless you'd like to be more like me."

**{Loading...}**

_June 15, 2186_

_2200 hours._

_Cockpit, Veritan-Class Corvette THS Educated Foresight, Flying Low over Trisek'lok City Ruins, Tor'an Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_First Lieutenant Tarquin Victus._

First Lieutenant Tarquin Victus, captain of the turian corvette Educated Foresight, was not an ordinary turian. Yes; he was hardened military, trained from the mandatory conscription age of 15, served his compulsory ten years, and then continued to serve afterwards under the yolk of his father; the great ArchGeneral Adrien Victus. And that's where being ordinary stopped; he was military, but only because of his famous father, who had married an especially wealthy woman to produce the man now standing on the bridge of this hierarchy warship.

Of course, being his son meant there was alot of pressure put on him; only greatness was expected of him, and the odd military tactic or strategy that would normally warrant a pat on the back by most turian commanders, only got him a frown and a 'you can do better than that' from people who knew better. Being a Victus wasn't exactly an easy life, especially living in the shadow of such greatness.

Which was even greater now, if the word was right; his father was now Primarch of the Hierarchy, leader of the entirety of the turian galactic empire, and its people. Never had the pressure been so great; tradition stated that if a Primarch's son stuffed up on a mission or made a great tactical error, it brought great shame and disgrace upon the family; the only way to fix the family's honor was also the most horrifying; the son or daughter had to be publically executed. Which meant Tarquin could not stuff up this maneveur he had planned.

The one he was now in the middle of.

It was risky, and the more he thought about it, utterly stupid, but he had to take the chance; the very future of the krogan-turian alliance depended on it. If the krogan were to find out his people were behind this, there would never be a coalition; and the Reapers would win. Tarquin would not allow that to happen, especially when he had been entrusted with the command of a corvette, a platoon of turian blackwatch special forces, a fireteam of Cabal biotics, and enough munitions to give a Reaper fleet a run for its money. And if that wasn't enough on the line, there was a bomb to add to the mix. Wonderful.

Tarquin knew he had to enter Tuchanka's atmosphere to deploy and locate the bomb, but knew that making a direct beeline for it would undoubtably attract unwanted attention to himself by both the krogan and the Reaper or Reapers on the ground. So, instead, he decided to put the whole plan at risk for a fool's errand; he was going to fly his entire corvette, an over 50 ton vessel, straight over the city ruins, and then deploy his troops directly into the area with limited air support. Not only would they be able to avoid detection, but also allow for making the mission easier, extraction and combat wise. But if he stuffed this up; if the Reaper spotted them, it was all over. They would have no room to evade enemy fire; they'd be a sitting duck. They had to make this work, or it was all over for them.

So there he was, watching the landscape of one of Tuchanka's ancient cities, now nothing but nuclear irradiated ruins, float on by, his corvette slowly gliding over the dead skyscrapers and occassionally sending some toppling from the vibrations his ship's engines caused. He held tightly onto the railing, taking laboured breaths as he watched the meter for the distance between the bomb and them close in.

_2000 meters...1900 meters...1800 meters...1700 meters...1600 meters..._

"I hope you know what you're doing sir," his XO, Truius, stated hesitantly from the side, "This is a huge gamble you're taking."

"As I'm aware of, Second Lieutenant," Tarquin harshly replied, teeth gritted as he suddenly wished he could sweat, "But I saw no other alternative. It was this, or potentially face a Reaper head-on. This mission is too important for us to be taken down so easily."

"We're a sitting duck flying like this! At least in space we could maneveur!" his XO insisted, "We should pull up, try a different route!"

Tarquin, having had enough, spun around, eyes bright with annoyance as he faced Truius, "Are you done questioning my orders? Or do you need a court-marshalling? Do not question my orders again. We will find that bomb site, disable that bomb and then extract. We are the First Platoon, and we  _will_ succeed."

"Yes sir," Truius stated upfront, Tarquin glad for his instant acceptance; he would have hated to have one of their Cabals escort him off the bridge. His thoughts and focus now undisrupted, he turned back to the counter on the viewscreen, watching it count down.

_1200 meters...1100 meters...1000 meters..._

_Only a kilometer to go. Come on, you can do it..._

_900 meters...800-_

"Sir!" one of his bridge officer shouted, "We've got a contact directly ahead! Its 300 feet high, and is giving off one hell of a thermal signature! Sensors pinpoint it to be...holy shit!  _Right infront of us!_ "

Tarquin's eyes widened as he watched the huge form of a Reaper Destroyer suddenly appear before them, emerging from the ground like a thresher maw from its nest. Its glowing red eye boomed evil, its four legs stretching and pushing from its hideout. Armoured plates slid apart to reveal its glowing eye, and its scorpion-shaped body seemed to slouch apart as it rose. Its colossal plates gleamed in Tuchanka's harsh sun, and it gave the mechanical agent of destruction a very ethereal glow; one full of malice. A Reaper.

 _Oh spirits..._ "Bring us up! Sharp turn! Bring us back into the atmosphere,  _ **now!**_ " He bellowed, almost desperate to escape the situation they were now in. But even as he shouted those orders, the eye on the giant starship was already powering up, red sparks cracking hungrily as it prepared to feast upon on the giant hunk of metal speeding towards it; to take all the lives upon it. The entire platoon, the whole fireteam, the whole crew and, of course, Tarquin Victus, the son of Primarch Adrien Victus.

There was only one last chance to save this mission, and his crew. Spinning around, he chose the disgraceful route, "Get everyone to the escape pods now! Get to it!"

"Are you serious!?" Truius objected, snorting, "Turians do not run! We will face-"

"Get to the bloody escape pods, or mission is not over!" Tarquin snapped, eyes glazed over with fury, "We have to find that bomb no matter the cost, and we are not letting a damn Reaper stop us! Get to-"

He was thrown into Truius as the whole ship groaned, shuddered and coughed, Tarquin watching hopelessly as red hot fire and metal blew the entire starboard section of the ship clean off, a glazing shot from the Reaper's mini-thanix.  _Spirits, be thankful it wasn't a Reaper capital ship..._ He watched most of the pilots on that side get vaporized from the shot instantly, while the rest of the ship was torn away, wind whipping at their faces along with fire, and the dying light of Aralakh burning on their faces; night was approaching on Tuchanka.

Tarquin gripped Truius hardened face with renewed courage, facing him fully, "Escape pods.  _Now._ "

The turian nodded acceptance and quickly rushed off the rapidly collapsing bridge of the corvette quickly, the rest of the surviving crew quickly following behind, Tarquin himself included. It wasn't that far away from the pods; corvette's were tiny vessels, only the length of six SX-3 Paradise-Class Alliance interceptors, and only three of them wide. Which meant they were never far away from their escape option.

A groan could be heard as the ship voiced its agony and Tarquin only just managed to escape a flying piece of debris as he leapt into his pod, the debris instead slicing one of the crew in half. Crawling into one of the seats, he strapped himself in, harness clicking into place over him before Truius hit the deployment button; a second later, their pod left its mothership with a hiss, and they watched the Educated Foresight slowly get smaller until the pod abruptly slammed and cut through the ruins of a decayed skyscraper, slamming into the rotted concrete below. The impact alone was enough to jar Tarquin, and his vision went whoozy as he tried to regain focus, his men shouting at him as his men pulled themselves free, and began to open their pod.

A thunderous boom, followed by the sound of collapsing stone, concrete and steel finally repaired his vision, causing him to look up, trying to find its source. Having no luck, he unlocked his harness and looked around, finding out quickly that he had been whoozy longer than he thought; the pod was empty, and the pod wide open. With a sigh, he ignored his stressed muscles and used his powerful, turian arms to pull himself from the veritically aligned pod, and found himself peaking into a field of fire.

The source of the noise had been the remains of his corvette crashing into the ground, the bow caving in, the spine breaking in a long cascade before it collapsed backwards, shattering its form and reducing the proud turian ship to a mangled, half-eaten wreck. He shook his head, turning to the left as he heard his men yelling, and watching as they formed a perimeter, phaestons in their grips. Coming to sit on the edge, Tarquin too pulled out his phaeston assault rifle and then leapt onto the ground, rebalancing himself as he almost lost his footing on the jagged concrete and the ruins of an overly large skycar, rotted from the thousands of years of misuse; glass canopy nonexistent and resilient krogan skeleton lying in the driver's seat.  _Krogan skeletons survived all these centuries? Damn._

He looked up as he heard a loud airhorn, followed by a boom, and as he looked up, he watched the Reaper Destroyer move, armoured plates collapsing back over its eye as it seemed to move, oblivious to the turians below it, or simply considering them not worthy of any attention, casually knocking aside buildings with every footfall as it traversed the landscape, heading towards some senseless goal, letting out an occassional airhorn every time it moved. The sound terrified him.  _Just one...and its immense._

"Well sir, what do we do?" Truius rasped, and as he turned to the turian, he saw his own men giving him a glare of distaste, "You got us into this mess, now you can get us out. Continue the mission? Sure. Where next, Lieutenant  _Victus._ "

Tarquin glared back, "You knew the risks of this mission, and you know damn well its in our duty to finish it. Our first objective to locate the survivors and regroup. This is a large city, so it'll be hard, so send out a beacon; you know the drill. Then we'll-"

"Sirs," one of the soldiers nearby spoke, gripping his phaeston harder as he sat crouched near a slab, "I've got contact on my motion tracker, lots of it. Coming from all around us."

"Contacts?" Tarquin questioned, only slightly worried.  _There's only one enemy it could be,_ "Friend or foe?"

"Would he be so worried if it were friend?" Truius deadpanned, moving to crouch next to the man, "How many contacts? Give us a rough estimate."

"Too many to be sure. At least a dozen. Wait, no more,  _dozens,_ " the turian's eyes widened in, shooting to behind his back, "They're all around us and closing in!"

Before any more questions could be asked of the situation, a loud, goosebump-inducing guttural moan could be heard, and all turned around to see a horde of husks rushing towards them, hands bared and dead, soulless eyes landing on them as they found their prey. Unearthly gurgles could be heard, and from in front could be seen a marauder, moving forward with its phaeston in its grip, leading forward a squad of cannibals he squawked and choked unintelligible phrases at them, and from all over the ruins came more, and he even saw a brute amongst them. Tarquin could only watch in horror as Truius hurried shouted his orders. "Fire! Fucking fire!" Gunfire was the answer, and they fired at all the Reaper husks around them.

Then, a booming voice.

**"You will ascend, turians. The species of this galaxy will bend to us. Your destruction is inevitable."**

And the horde moved forward, and in that moment, Tarquin knew he was going to die.

**{Loading...}**

_It was cloudy. He realized that almost instantly. The darkness seemed to swallow up everything, covering it in a thick blanket that did not permit light any entrance or solace. The trees were dead and wretched, covering in thick piles of ash that stained their green appearence, making them seem like some kind of black depression, their trunks chipped and ripped from decay._

_The ground was given no reprieve and was also covered in ash; and where it wasn't, there was nothing but black scorch marks from fire, but it was almost unnoticable due to the lack of light._

_Despite this gruesome landscape, he pressed on, through the bushes, wincing as they stabbed him with their sharp needled appendages, but ignoring the jabs of pain as he continued to move, driven on by some alien purpose he couldn't understand. It haunted him, made him feel like a puppet in the grand scheme of some great play. Accept this play was daunting. Horrifying._ _**Real.** _

_The bushes finally seemed to part, and what he found was an empty forest full of the same dead trees he had found back when he was traversing the bushes, with the same dull background and the same dead horizon. Not a sound could be heard, not even when he took a step. Not when he rustled a bush, and not when he took a breath. It was dead silent, unearthly silent; deafeningly silent._

_He slowly padded forward, feeling almost deaf from the lack of sound. Hell, considering that everything looked the same, it didn't even feel like he was moving._

_Or maybe he really wasn't moving._

_Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence; feminine, american, and highly attractive; he would recognize it anywhere._

_"Skipper..."_

_He spund around, trying to locate the source, but quickly failing as his eyes found nothing._

_"...you left me..."_

_The voice sounded closer, and he turned forward to see the silhouette of a long deceased form standing infront of him; but the darkness covered her features, keeping them secret from him._

_"...to die."_

_She emerged from the shadows, and he found himself relieved to see nothing wrong with her; it was like she hadn't changed. She wore the same pinkish-white light phoenix armor she always wore, with her holstered pistol and favoured assault rifle, sans her helmet. She had plump red lips, smooth cheeks and heavy eyelashes that gave her a girly-girl look. Her eyes were piercing, and her raven black hair was tied up in that same ponytail that it always was, flowing like water. It was the same woman he had known three years ago. The same woman he had sent to death._

_His voice replied, feeling croaky and dry, as if he had been starved of food and drink for days, "You chose to stay behind, remember? I wanted to save both of you, but you insisted I go for Kaidan. You chose to die that day on Virmire; to make sure the nuke detonated..."_

_The woman he once knew as Ashley Williams smiled, shaking her head, "No, you could have saved me. You could have ignored me and gone and saved me; left Kaidan to die. But you didn't. You left me to die, and in the end, Kaidan lived, and I didn't. I lay forgotten. My sacrifice meant nothing."_

_"That's not true!" he snapped, slamming a fist into the tree next to him, only to watch as it completely fell apart from the force, becoming just another pile of ash, but he ignored it, facing Ashley fully, "We never forgot about you! I never forgot about you! I have no doubt Kaidan still thinks about you everyday since your death; he loved you, for god sake! Your death saddened us, but you allowed us to stop the Reapers! You helped us delay their invasion for three years!"_

_"It was not enough. And now our cycle pays the price," she sighed with melancholy, "You were always a fool, Skipper. You left me to die, let Kaidan live, and now you'll have me to help you sleep, all night long."_

_"Why!?" he screamed, as if letting out a long line of articulated agony being pent up over the years. He tried to form tears, but none came, "Why do you haunt me like this? You understood what I had to do...the Ashley I knew wouldn't hold me accountable for something like this..._ _**you understood...** _ _"_

_This time, when she smiled, her teeth were rotten, and her gums enflamed. And that wasn't it; he began to notice her skin shrivelling up, her eyes beginning to sink back into her skull, and her hair caught on fire as she spoke, followed by the rest of her body spontaneously combusting into flames. This was getting very familiar. Too familiar, "She understood," she stated, and then suddenly her eyes turned burning orange,_ _**"But she is long dead; an organic dead for a false cause. You have already lost, Shepard. This is not a war; this is a harvest. Your species will ascend to greatness, yet you refuse it at every turn. Your ignorance will be your destruction."** _

_His skull began to scream at him, and he fell onto his knees, crying out in agony as he did._ _**"This is only the beginning,"** _ _Ashley boomed,_ _**"Your friends and comrades will fall around you, unable to stand to our might. Submit to the harvest and they will be spared; they will rise to ascension, to a higher form, as you will. Or you will die, and will become the ashes that lie around you; pointless and without use."** _

_The burning in his skull was beginning to become unbearable, and he held his head in agony as Ashley seemed to continue grinning. At this point, her eyes were gone, living only black, absent pits for eye sockets, her hair was burnt to nothing, and her skin was gone; all he could see was the muscle underneath; beginning to wreathe and splurt as it boiled from unseen radiation. He knew what came next._

_"I...will...stop...you!" he cried out in defiance, "We fight or we die!"_

_**"No. You will be harvested, or vanish."** _

_And with a blast of pure heat, something that immediately roasted the skin off his bones; the agony so blinding that he wanted to black out but couldn't, he watched Ashley's body shatter into little fragments, like that of a window blowing apart, and her body was scattered to the wind, nuclear fire destroying everything around them and filling the dark place with brilliant light that melted his eyes out. The last thing he saw of Ash was that damn smile and the last he heard was Harbinger's voice._

_He screamed._

_June 8, 2186_

_2053 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

His scream carried right out into reality as he shot up from the bed, his screaming cut short as he immediately realized he was awake and all of it had been another nightmare. He was soaking with a cold sweat, and he could still feel the lingering sensation of the fire melting his skin and the buzzing in his eyes from his bubbling pupils in the dream. It left him feeling uncomfortable; violated. And it had been another dream of Ashley. Three years dead, and she couldn't leave him alone.  _Skipper..._

Shaking his head, he turned in the bed, tossing the covers off of his body and twisting so he sat on the edge, head in his hands. He wiped the sweat from his face, and felt the burning in his skin fade as if nothing had happened. He took two solid deep breaths before standing up and moving into the shower, stripping, and he turned it to full bore; it almost immediately removed the freezing cold that had taken place over his body.

Feeling sufficiently cleansened, he dried himself and got dressed, exiting the shower cubicle just as he heard a knock on the door. Frowning, he stepped out, placed his cap over his head and cleared his voice, trying to not let the fatigue he felt show in his voice. Last he needed was someone worrying over him, "Enter."

The door shot open, and the last person he expected to be standing outside was Liara, a large box in her hands. She simply stood there, looking back at him as if she needed further confirmation, "Can I come in?"

 _Just said you could._ "Yes, Liara. Have a seat."

"Thank you," Liara replied warmly, smiling as she proceeded into his cabin, walking down the steps and situating herself on his sofa, where he quickly found himself migrating to. Ignoring his tired muscles, which screamed at him for further rest, he took a seat, not wanting to take another trip into nightmare land; sleep had become alot like that for him, nowadays. No, now he would talk to Liara; erase the memories of that horrible dream.

"What can I do for you, Liara?"

The asari once again smiled that same innocent smile, the same kind she had back when she was an archaelogist and not ruler of the galaxy's largest information network, and placed the mysterious, steel box she had been holding down on the coffee table infront of them, making sure the table wouldn't snap from the added weight before letting go of it. Satisfied it wouldn't collapse, she turned, folding her hands in her lap as she leaned back, sighing contendedly, "I just...wanted your advice on something."

"...that pertains to the box you brought?" he grinned, tapping the metal container as it gave a loud clang, "Seems very heavy; I guess what you want to ask me must have been worth the effort of holding that thing during that slow elevator ride."

"It was tortorous, I'll admit," she quipped, smiling before shaking her head, sighing, "No, I...Shepard, after all these years of fighting the Reapers, do you think we can really beat them?"

 _How many times have I been asked and answered this question?_ He sighed, the grin leaving his features as he leaned forward, shrugging, "I want to believe we can, Liara. The odds weigh heavily against us, but I believe if we can finish the Crucible, we'll have a fighting chance of destroying these bastards once and for all and put a stop to the cycles. But on the other hand...what if the genophage cure isn't enough? Will that really unite a galaxy? And if it is, will a united galaxy be enough to stop the Reapers? I don't know, Liara. It's a question I can't give you a definitive answer for."

Liara gave a hesitant nod, crossing her legs as she sat, seeming to ponder what she was going to say next. Finally, as if managing to comprehend just what she needed to do, and turned towards him, gulping, "Well...in that case, I have something to ask of you. To show you." With that, she leaned over, hitting a control ontop of the box. What had been lifeless now burst with life, bright holographic light portraying images of the Crucible, numerous ship types, and many different species of the galaxy; even a geth. He frowned at it, giving Liara a raised eyebrow of misunderstanding. Shrugging, she smiled meekly.

"Its a...time capsule, of sorts. I made sure it contains all the different codex entries on our different species, ships, civilizations, how we came to be here, what organizations we fought, the different conflicts, governments, people, and, finally, our war with the Reapers. I've also uploaded the schematics for the Crucible. It has also got a programmable translation matrix so that the species who finds it can code the information to their understanding," she laughed slightly, remembering, "I also added a detailed account of our adventures together; right from Eden Prime to the present day, and I'll continue to update it as we go. From three years ago to now. The friends we lost, the friends gained and the love cherished."

Marcus nodded, smiling slightly as he leaned back, crossing his own legs, "This is all nice to know Liara but...why? Why have you gone to all the trouble to make this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, baffled he hadn't picked up on it yet. Seeing he was still confused, she rolled her eyes, leaning her elbows on her knees, "I thought...worst case scenario, Shepard. If we lose this war...if the Reapers succeed in this cycle...I wanted to bury this capsule, hide it so the Reapers can't find it, and leave it for the next cycle to find, which they will. I've considered the different species that might lead the next cycle, and I think the raloi are the best candidate; so I'll bury it on Turvess, hope they find it. They'll have 50,000 years to prepare."

"You've really thought this out, haven't you?" Marcus asked grimly, shaking his head, "You've made sure that, no matter what happens, the next cycle will have a chance. A fighting chance. They'll learn about the Crucible centuries in advance, build it, and fire it literally as the Reapers arrive. That's  _if_ we lose however; it might not be necessary."

"That's true," she stated, gliding a blue-skinned hand over the heavy material, "But it's better to have it and not need it, then to need it...and not have it."

He let out an exhale of breath as he turned to look back at the box, studying it. He slowly turned, nodding, "So this is why you came up here? To ask me if I approve of this?"

"Your approval?" the asari laughed, some mirth actually entering her voice, "No! I'd have made this capsule and deployed it with or without permission. No, I needed your consultation on another entry I planned on making for the capsule."

He frowned, nodding slowly, "Okay, you've piqued my interest. Just what do you have in mind?"

With a knowing grin, she stood up and stood up next to the box, tapping another button on its holographic interface. Suddenly, the holo of the Crucible vanished and was replaced with an image of himself, standing tall and proud. She looked at him, smiling, "I need consultation on  _your_ entry."

Flabbergasted, he rapidly shook his head, leaning back and rubbing his eyes as his head continued to shake, eyes locking onto Liara's, "No. Definitely not. You do not need an entry on me. The next cycle does not need to know about me."

"Don't be an idiot, Shepard! By the goddess!" the asari huffed, exasperated, "It was you who formed your team, you who defeated Saren and Sovereign, you who destroyed the Collectors, and  _you_ who will unite the galaxy and save it! You were at the core of it all! Don't deny yourself this out of stupid modesty! The next cycle would need to know," her smile died slightly, "You're a beacon of hope. And that's just what we need."

"Okay okay," he gave up in surrender, "I concede to your point, but I still think the squad at my back should get seventy percent of the credit. As for Tali, ninety percent. I'd be dead in the water if it weren't for her holding me up."

"We'll get to that," she sighed, rubbing her temples as her hands came to land on her hips, the asari obviously waiting for him to start, "Well don't just sit there! Shepard, I need your consultation on your entry. What should I say about you? All of the facts in this capsule are narrated by me, I'll have you know. Including the ones about the Reapers, their weaknesses, strengths and indoctrination and huskification. But that's a different story. What should I say?"

"Liara," Marcus began, shaking his head with a smile, "I don't think I should tell you how to tell it; you should just do that. Besides, you've known me well enough; tell them what matters Liara. Tell it true, but don't embellish it too much. You don't need me."

"Alright," the asari stated, cracking her knuckles as she toggled the audio pickup, and she held a finger to her lips for him to be quiet. Once he acknowledged this, she stood up, hands clasped behind her back as she paced, thinking of where to start. Finally, she found the perfect place, and she whirled around, speaking loud enough for the capsule to pick her voice up, "Second-last entry: Marcus Lee Shepard," she took a deep breath and began, "There is much to say about this extradionary man. He's not just a hero, he's a symbol. A champion. And was a personal friend of mine," she sighed, nodding as she continued.

"He was a spacer, and of a species during our time known as humanity," she began, "He was born on a ship in space to parents who were navy officers. He eventually joined the military at age 18, became a navy officer, and began his career. He earned many titles; he once saved a colony from an army of ten thousand slavers single-handedly; they called him the Lion of Elysium. Then he stormed an enemy fortress with just a small squad; they called him the Butcher of Torfan. And then he survived a thresher maw ambush; they called him the Survivor of Akuze. He has survived many things, and he would become our hero," she smiled grimly, "It began at a human colony we called Eden Prime; you will find its codex in this database. From there, our fight against the Reapers began. He found me on a planet named Therum, but I was not the beginning; by then, he had a formidable squad of soldiers; formidable in potential, but young in their age; except for Wrex."

She sighed, taking a seat behind the table opposite him, "He died, but then he was brought back to life, stronger than ever, and he began his campaign anew; he never gave up. Even when our galactic government, the Council, refused to believe the threat, he pesevered. He destroyed an enigmatic race of beings known as the Collectors, which were the husks of the species once known as the Protheans, a race that came before our cycle. During your cycle, they are the husks of humanity, I would presume. He destroyed them, and returned, and he continued the fight right up until the war we were engaged in. I do not know how long it will last, or if we will win or lose it, but if you are receiving this, then the answer is clear. Shepard fought the hardest; he was a beacon for the galaxy. He united us under one banner, built a superweapon called the Crucible, and attempted to destroy the Reapers, but it was too late. If you find this, may he be your inspiration, a martyr for your cycle. Build the Crucible, and destroy the Reapers once and for all."

"Shepard was a special forces operative known as N7; I don't know what you call them, but for us, that's a special kind of soldier; an elite of the elite, and he was the very best. He also became a Spectre; a Council operative that works above the law and are not trained, but chosen based on skill and potential. He was also a powerful biotic; they are people who can harness element zero and use it for telekinetic abilities, allowing them to manipulate the world around them; he was one, and a skilled one at that. He was kind, caring and compassionate, and diplomatic, when he could be. But when on the battlefield, he was an artist at killing; a destroyer, a bane, a raging demon. Almost unkillable."

She met Marcus' eyes in that instant, and smiled tapping another button. Marcus had to take a deep breath as he watched his form replaced by that of a holographic image of Tali, standing tall and proud, omni-tool out before her, wearing her old suit from back in the days of her pilgrimage, "But, of course, he wouldn't have been able to do it alone. And yes, he had a squad behind him, but there was this particular woman named Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, later named Tali'Zorah vas Neema and vas Normandy, and finally to become his wife, Tali'Shepard vas Normandy. Wife is our name for the female of a bond. I don't know if you have that in your cycle, but we did. She was his light in the darkness, and she kept him standing upright, was there when he got hurt, and watched his back, utterly devoted to him, as he was to her. She was of a species called quarian, not much different from his own, and her species, at least during the period of our war with the Reapers, were stranded in the stars amongst a fleet of ships collectively known as the Flotilla or Migrant Fleet. He didn't see her face for a long time because she was trapped in her suit for protective purposes, but he waited, patiently. If it wasn't for her, I don't think we'd have gotten this far."

"Tali was a brilliant tech, one of the best engineers in the galaxy and had an affinity for nervousness. She was shy and cute when you embarassed her, but like her husband Marcus, she was a ball of fire and fury when on the battlefield, her skills with a shotgun and omni-tool unrivalled. She wasn't biotic, but she could hack ninety-six percent of everything, and she was extremely protective of Shepard, as he was of her. Together, they made up the entire power of his squad combined," she sighed happily, "They fought together, bled at each other's side, and died in each others' arms. They met the end gladly; sacrificing their future together so that you could live. Make their sacrifice worth it; build the Crucible, assemble your fleets, and when the Reapers arrive in fifty thousand years, destroy them. Oh, and also make sure to find the scout they leave behind every interim to monitor you; they'll relay everything to the Reapers, so taking him out is crucial. Remember: may they be a beacon to you, and remind you of the valour that occured in the name of freedom," with a final intake of breath, she concluded, "End entry."

There was silence in the room for a few more seconds, noone saying a word. Liara looked up hesitantly to see Marcus looking blankly at his legs, hands dead and unmoving. Standing up, she turned off the capsule and sat next to him, trying to get his attention, but he still said nothing. Still didn't move. Eventually, she had enough, deciding to wave her hand in front of his face or shake his shoulder, but before she could do that, she heard him speak, and what came out shocked her.

"...died in each others' arms..." he mumbled, shaking his head as he scratched the back of his neck, "What arms? Where is she?"

It wasn't the words that broke Liara's heart, it was the tone; he sounded so lost, so hopeless, so absolutely...lonely. That was the only word to properly describe it. It was like the life was sucked completely out of him as soon as he entered his cabin; all the giddiness he got from combat vanished once he shed his Commander Shepard skin, and became Marcus Shepard; because there was no Marcus Shepard without the other half.

Liara placed a cool, blue hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure she'll turn up. She's probably dealing with the Reapers, like we are."

He didn't seem to even register her words as his head fell in his hands, "Where is she? The war is finally here, but where is she? Where is she when I  _need_ her? I feel so goddamn fucking  _lost_. I don't even...it isn't the  _same_..."

She turned his head to face her, warm blue eyes meeting his steely hazels, "You need to put those thoughts away; shove them from your mind. You said it yourself; you can't afford to be distracted. I know you miss her; Garrus misses her like a little sister, and while I can't hope to match the bond you three have as a team, I know this: I miss her in some way too. Kasumi does, I know that much; the thief keeps bringing her up when I ask 'what was life like on the SR-2?' Kasumi seems like the best friend Tali never had; except for you, maybe, but that's changed. Look," she paused, looking for the right words, "Tali is out there; it's only a matter of time before we find her."

"We were meant to face the Reapers together," he responded, his voice unsure if he should be so damn selfish, "I don't just miss her, Liara. I'm  _falling apart_ without her. You may think I'm a perfect paragon, but  _she_ is my moral compass; the incorruptible. Yes, I may be corrupting her with...my demons, per se, but she isn't fully gone; she still helps me through these moral dilemmas and problems. I need her in my arms, or I need to be in hers...damn it, I don't care! I just need to be with her..." he shook his head, turning away, "I shouldn't even be telling you this."

She shook her head, placing a hand ontop of his, "No, it's quite alright. These things need to come out."

"No," he stated firmly, turning towards her as he slipped his hand from the asari's grip, "You  _don't_. These are things only husband and wife share," he turned away from her, rubbing at his face, "This is a side only Tali gets to see. You've seen too much already," he waved a hand at the capsule, "I...thank you for asking my permission Liara, and I will come down later to have a look at it and add some data of my own, but for now, you need to leave. I...need some time alone."

"But Shepard-"

He turned to her, a desperate look in his eyes, "Liara, I'm not asking. Leave  _now_." He looked away, "EDI, lock the door once she's gone. Noone is to disturb me."

There was no answer, EDI understanding the situation better than any AI could. Liara, nodding as she accepted the inevitable, stood up and picked up the capsule in her hands, turning and walking up the steps as she passed the doors, and let the doors closed behind her. She had just left her best friend behind, a man falling apart, morally, mentally and physically, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. As soon as she turned, the haptic interface turned a bright red, like that of a stop sign telling her to walk away. And did that she did. She turned and entered the elevator, not taking a single look behind her. And she knew she had done the right thing. The man needed comfort, but wasn't from her or any other woman. Only one woman could comfort him.

Marcus simply sat there, and then it came.

A pathetic whimper.

An exhale of breath.

The stream of a tear.

And then, after all this time, his emotions came out like a tsunami.

He wept.

**{Loading...}**

_June 12, 2186_

_1519 hours._

_One of Many Caves, Unknown Underground Cave Network, Southern Hemisphere, Utukku._

_The Reaper War._

_Lord Platooner Urdnot Charr, Lord Companier Urdnot Dagg._

He shifted the Firestorm in his grip, the flamethrower large and wieldy, but for a krogan, it weighed next to nothing and was just big enough for their massive hands to fit around them without crushing them. He took another step forward, hearing the dirt and rock crunch below him as it reacted to the unknown presence landed upon it, before it lifted again as he took two more steps, the same sound following it. And all around him, similiar ones were heard as his platoon, and the rest of Dagg's company, moved forward.

Or, at least, his platoon part of the company. The rest was split off in different parts of the cave, all investigating the same thing they were; the same thing Urdnot Wrex had been worried about, and the same thing Dagg needed to check out. So he did, and here they were, on the barren rock world known as Utukku, looking through empty caves, deep underground.

Charr was not your average krogan. He wasn't overly courageous, and wasn't always eager in seeking a battle. He was bonded happily to an asari named Ereba, something his peers looked down on, as bondage was something of an alien concept to krogan; they didn't marry, they merely engaged in intercourse with a female and then moved onto another; the idea of staying with one for the rest of their lives seemed trivial and redundant. Nevertheless, Ereba was his wife; living on the Citadel until his return. She had been a sales merchant, but now, because of this damn war, she was an asari commando; fully-trained over five months. She had been considering it long before the war and been training for it before then too, but it was only now that it mattered so much.

And here he was, far from her, on some barren world, investigating the presence of an ancient enemy that had been extinct for a thousand years. They couldn't possibly be here. They just  _couldn't_ be. His people wiped them out all those centuries ago. How could there be any left?

Once again, he found himself spinning around to face a cave wall at the sound of scuttling. The hiss of flame appearing in the ignition chamber, ready to be propelled forward, was heard as he raised it to the wall, the flame's light showing nothing; once again, he was chasing his own shadow. He had done this multiple times now, and every single time he found nothing. He might as well have not bothered.

He turned back around, watching his krogan peers, unnoticing, continue to move forward. No, not peers,  _subordinates._ He was Lord Platooner, and be damned if he did not live up to his command. With a low growl, he pressed forward, moving to the front of his platoon where Urdnot Dagg, their company commander, having chosen to be with his part of the split up, was walking, claymore in hand, flashlight illuminating the way.

He came to the krogan's side, the krogan's head crest glowing a dim brown in the flame's light, and his eyes a dull purple. As he approached, Dagg turned, nodding to Charr as he turned back around, scoffing, "Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"This investigation is getting more and more pointless by the second," Dagg pondered, sighing as he shook his head, "But Chieftain's Wrex's orders are clear: scour this area and make sure no rachni activity exists."

"The rachni have been extinct for a thousand years. Our people destroyed them," Charr stated, shaking his head, "I believe the asari saying is 'chasing wild  _ta'djal._ "

"I say you spend too much time around that asari mate of yours," he sneered, shaking his head as he turned back around, "It has made you weak and fleshy, like them, but we can fix that. You are a krogan; if you can regenerate physical wounds, you can regenerate mental ones. Still, you're right, but Wrex seemed insistent. He seemed sure there was rachni activity in the rachni home system's relay, and Wrex is usually serious when it comes to such things. We'll have to take his word for it. But if we don't start to see movement soon, then we're leaving back for Tuchanka. Word has it the genophage is going to be cured soon, and I don't plan to miss it," he grinned smugly, "I've got alot of breeding to catch up on."

"The genophage is being cured?" Charr stated out of surprise, "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"It means someone cares, welp. In this case, a human commander and a salarian with regret," Dagg retorted, the rest of the platoon halting at the words 'genophage' and 'cure,' "And it means our thousand year plight is over. We can rebuild what we lost."

"You believe in Shepard's cause?" Charr asked, unconvinced. He too believed in it, but was still unable to believe he was ending a thousand years of horror with one cure.

"I do. The Reapers are a threat to all life. I was there when Wrex made his speech. I heard what they are capable of," Dagg spat on the ground, a large clump of saliva leaving his mouth as it collapsed against a wall of rock, "They will destroy Tuchanka when they have a chance, and it is our duty to stop them, rightfully. It seems the galaxy needs us to save it again, and this time, we are also the ones who need saving."

"Sir!" one krogan shouted from ahead, "You should have a look at these things. The wall is covered with them."

Knowing he was talking to him, Charr rushed forward, Dagg and the others in tow. Charr quickly reached him, the krogan looking up at the ceiling and everything before him, but the corner blocked his view. Turning the corner, he was surprised when what he saw wasn't rock or some rachni structure; it was a large piece of grey-red metal covering the wall, its design sleek and menacing. And as they looked up, they saw it covered the wall; bits of cabling and wiring interconnecting them.

"What is all this? This looks like the work of machines," Dagg snapped, "Salarians are more sterile, asari are more about beauty, and turians are more utilitarianistic. This is just sleek and simple, logical design work. This is the work of machines, but which ones? Couldn't be geth so..." his eyes widened as he turned around, hitting his comm, "Second and third teams, report your status now!"

Static was all that was heard on the other side for third team, and second team's commander's voice sounded hurried and tired, growling, "We are under heavy attack! Enemy identity unconfirmed, but I can take a guess! Get out of here and fall back! It's a nest! It's a-" Then his comms cut, and Dagg growled, ripping off his comm and tossing it onto the ground as he crushed it with his massive foot.

He whirled around, spittle flying from his maw, "You heard him! We need to get the fuck out of here, now! Fall back to the shuttle quickly, we need to inform Wre-"

A loud, high-pitched, mechanical screech was heard. It echoed through the walls, ringing in their ears and shaking them to the bone, making even the toughest krogan flinch, even if it was only in surprise. But Charr shivered in fear. He didn't recognize the noise; was that what rachni sounded like? Or the machines who constructed these walls?

He was quickly answered when a piece of rock from above exploded outwards, all of them pushing backwards as they all raised their weapons in unison at the source, dust, rock and dirt raining down on them as they moved out of the way. It thundered against the ground, tremendous tremors shaking the entire cave network.

The source of the explosion was heard and seen as it emerged, screeching its same high-pitched cybernetic wail. It was an ugly creature, a combination of flesh and muscle with machinery and armor. It stalked on four, weak looking legs of metal, its body encased in a steel cage that kept its fleshy sac of flesh trapped under its belly, sickly green slime dripping off of it. Two large cannons that looked like anti-material rifles protruded from what should be its head, the monster looking like it could barely hold them. Its front two legs ended in sharp claws, scraping against the ground with every movement forward, and occassionally slipping on the uneven ground, that, and its ridiculous weight. But Charr recognized it. It wasn't exactly as he saw it however; it had been manipulated. Twisted.

It answered one question: Was it machines or rachni?

The answer: both. A combination.

The animal descended, and Dagg roared as he ordered them to open fire on it. His team depressed their triggers, jets of flame intertwining as they flew upwards to consume the twisted rachni. The attack was easier than they thought; it seemed to scream in agony from the multiple blasts, its skin flaring and blackening from the heat. Its fleshy sac expanded and exploded from it, sending jets of black blood in every direction; followed by tinier creatures; little metal insects, like that of beetles, but the size of a human's torso. Rachni workers, but they were twisted as well; encased entirely in Reaper tech.

The insects rained on them, but his team made short work of them, considering them little more than annoying pests. When they looked back up, they were in time to hear a disgusting, sludgy thud, before looking back down at the ground to see the twisted rachni had collapsed to the ground, its front caving into the rocks, crushing its two heavy cannons. Black blood quickly spilled out, coating the ground in dark ichor. They lowered their weapons, shaking their heads as they all ignored Charr and looked to Dagg for leadership.

Dagg noticed them, and turned to Charr, respecting his command, "We return to the shuttles now! We inform Wrex what's going on here, and he'll send reinforcements to purge this place. The Reapers cannot be allowed-"

Another screech, and they all looked up to see another creature looming over them. All of them sighed in annoyance, before aiming upwards to quickly dispatch it. Charr rolled his eyes.  _Do these things give up?_

Another screech. Two more. Three. Four. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Eventually, there became too many for them to differentiate, not that they can be bothered, as they were too busy either shutting the noise out or spinning in confusion as they found themselves now surrounded by a horde of the creatures coming from every direction.

 _Kalros, save us..._ Charr exclaimed silently, raising his flamethrower.

"Run!" Dagg stated, although Charr could see the shame in his eyes, "Someone send a warning to Wrex,  _ **now!**_ Charr, cover the rear! We'll fall back! Get moving! Move move move!"

The platoon moved as one, the twelve krogan moving forward like a gigantic freight train, pushing through and crushing the abominations with every step, push and shot.

The chamber echoed as the sound of a cannon discharged, and Charr cried out as he felt his left leg flare up like it was on fear. Almost like it  _wasn't there._

He fell to the ground, confirming his fears. He crawled futilely along the ground, raising his hand as his platoon left him behind, none of them looking behind as his fall went unnoticed. Even Dagg didn't turn, too busy snapping at them to run.

Charr sighed, rolling onto his back as he watched orange blood gush from his missing limb. He lifted his omni-tool, watching the approaching horde. If a krogan could cry...he wouldn't. He was better than that. He may not be a very good krogan, but he knew how to die gloriously. That was the krogan way.

Opening his omni-tool he uploaded an image of Ereba to his HUD and moved it to the bottom left of his screen, letting her smile linger in his eyes before turning and using his flamethrower as a club to knock aside a charging rachni. He quickly pulled the trigger, and the same effect as the last occurred, soaking him in black death. The smell was feral; wrong. It smelt of motor oil and blood combined, like some kind of evil concoction of the two. It boiled from the flames, and it stung his skin, but he gritted his teeth and raised his weapon, remembering his last words to his asari bondmate. It put a sad smile on his face.

"Oh, Blue Rose of Illium," he chanted, a jet of flame following it as he coated a nearby pair of rachni in fire, watching his fire counter go down, "May your blue petals shine brightly in the light of the Tuchankan sun, singing along side my dead one." He cried out as one got close enough to stab his surviving leg, but he quickly gave it fire in thanks, "I will return, and when I do, your blue beauty can shine upon my nonexistent one, and give it greatness once more. Meaning," the weapon discharged one final time, out of fuel as he tossed it aside, holding his arms out wide, his final words leaving his mouth, "I love you, never forget that. If you don't, then I'll always be by your side."

He heard the loud retort of cannons firing, followed by a thud, thud, thud of them leaving their chambers, screaming across the space towards his fleeing platoon, but they had already escaped around the corner with Dagg. Good, they'll survive at least. The shots passed harmlessly over him, but it wasn't long before they remembered him; one used its clawed appendage to stab the flamethrower and toss it from his hands, throwing it away, gas leaking from it. When it returned, it quickly stabbed him the gut, causing him to choke back a scream as it twisted inside of him, another joining the fun as it used both legs to stab at his arm. Before he knew it, they were all around him, tearing him apart with their limbs, and he could only grit his teeth and let it wash over him.

This was the end.

But he met it peacefully.

**{Loading...}**

_June 9, 2186_

_1507 hours._

_Tech Lab, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Professor Mordin Solus, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Eve._

The room was silent. Only the sound of beeping data terminals could be heard, and the faint sound of breathing. The occassional flinch and creak of metal moving as someone leaned on it, but not much apart from that. Unfortunately, the lack of sound wasn't to last.

"Ow! Pyjak! That hurts!"

Mordin pulled the needle out, ignoring the krogan's complaint as he tapped the tip with his finger, looking inqusitively. Without even acknowledging the battlemaster, or the human leaning against his desk, he turned and approached it, "Krogan afraid of needles. Odd choice of phobia. Many things to fear: Varren, Reapers, Vorcha, other krogan, Yahg, Cerberus, Thermonuclear weaponry, Huskification, Indoctrination," he took in a deep breath, sighing as he placed the needle on his desk, "Instead chooses to fear needles. Odd krogan."

"Hey!" Wrex roared, now suddenly ignoring the barely noticable hole in his arm as he studied the salarian, "Needles are-"

"Oh, do shoosh yourself Wrex," Eve barked, waving a dismissive hand from where she sat on one of the medical tables Mordin had ordered dragged up here, "You'll blush. Now  _that_  would be odd of a krogan. Especially a male."

Wrex simply growled and folded in on himself, causing Marcus to shake his head in mirth. He twisted in his position to face Mordin, who was now situated and standing behind his desk, seemingly oblivious to the world around him as he dumped the orange blood sample he had collected into a little glass vial, which was then placed in a steel clamp.

"So Mordin...just what do you need a blood sample for, exactly?" Marcus asked, curious.

The salarian merely smiled as he continued in adding data to his datapad, held firmly in his surprisingly strong three-fingered grip, "Genophage needs cure. Cure needs samples. Samples of blood, required. Necessitated. Absolutely necessary. Without blood sample, genophage cure becomes impossibility. Maelon knew this. Acquired many. All of them irrelevant," he sighed, "Thought he needed samples only from females; forgot that males played crucial role in reproduction as well. Easy mistake to make...being salarian."

"Okay then," he shrugged, "So how is this going to work?"

"Not like reproduction serum given to you and Mrs. Shepard," he smiled, "Hope that was successful?"

"I..." Marcus inhaled and exhaled, shaking his head, "I don't know. I don't think so. We never got to actually use it."

"Unfortunate. Look forward to witnessing success for myself," he shook his head, "However, genophage cure not simple. Take longer than serum. Days. Maybe weeks. Possibly a month. However, not a year. Or years. Or centuries. Salarian lifespan does not allow. Created serum quickly. Can create cure just as quickly, ableit more...slowly."

Wrex didn't seem convinced. "You sure you can trust this pyjak, Shepard? I know he served with you during the Collector campaign, but do you really think he'll cure the genophage?"

"Mordin had a change of conscience," he replied, coming to Mordin's defense, "He originally believed in the genophage, but he's changed, Wrex. He's made a personal oath to cure it. He said it to my face before he left the Normandy."

"Then why didn't he?" the krogan barked, now eying Mordin.

"STG heavily populated by salarians; obvious," Mordin answered. If it were a salarian thing, he'd have rolled his eyes, "Making cure in conditions impossible. Too many watching. Too many guns. Dalatrass would not be happy. Making cure impossibility. Now on Normandy, cure possible. Whole Tech Lab. Eve and Wrex blood samples."

"I don't know," Wrex stated, shaking his head, unconvinced.

Eve sighed, placing a hand on the battlemaster's shoulder, which seemed to relax him immediately, "Get over it, Wrex. That salarian is our people's only chance, and if it makes you feel any better, he truly cared about us."

"Us?" Marcus asked.

"Refers to other females," Mordin inhaled, and exhaled, "Before death."

"The other salarians didn't care, he did. You'd think we were his children, the way he looked after us. But there was a sadness in his eyes," she looked directly at Mordin, "He regretted what he did, and now he hopes to help fix it. He did all he could to save the others, and when they passed on, he did all he could to protect me. He is the only salarian I have found myself trusting."

"Emotional capabilities in salarians close to rare," the professor dictated a matter-of-factly, "Sadness an emotion we do not entertain. Too much melancholy. Not enough scientific advancement."

"He was sad," Eve restated, smiling slightly, "Even if he won't admit it."

Mordin seemed to slow for a second in his typing and then he sped up again, resuming his duties as if noone had been talking. Marcus shook his head, turning to face the other two when EDI came over the PA, "Captain Shepard, Specialist Traynor would like to speak with you on the CIC immediately. She says it is of immediate attention."

"I'll be right there," he stated, coming to stand as he nodded to Eve, "We will have to talk later, Eve. Although, I don't know your actual name."

Eve nodded solemnly, "I am a shaman, Captain; I surrendered my name when I completed the trials," she was turning around, but when she stopped, she turned, smiling at him with a genuine, warm smile, "But, maybe oneday, I will tell you my name. My real name."

Marcus nodded and left, immediately heading over to Samantha's terminal on the right. Heading straight over, he saw that she was already looking at him in a salute, waiting for him to give her permission to speak. Rolling his eyes, he returned the salute and nodded for her to explain, "Captain, I'm sure EDI told you. I was sorry to interrupt, but this could be massively important."

"Speak Traynor. What's the situation?"

She turned back to her terminal, rapidly typing into it as Kelly appeared, looking down on it as she watched Traynor type. While she did, Samantha spoke, biting her lower lip as she did, "I intercepted a distress call coming from the Jon Grissom Academy. However, we received a call from a turian cruiser called the Reverence that was in the area and had answered the call. Normally, that would be okay and we wouldn't have to worry."

"But something isn't quite right," he sighed, "It never is."

"Yes. So I ran a scan, as I didn't think any turian ships were in the area, all of them in the Apien Crest," she turned to face him, "Sir, the Reverence was destroyed during combat over Palaven two days ago. The turian cruiser answering the distress call doesn't exist, which means someone is lying to us. I also ran a scan of the registry in the turian ship's answer," she sighed, motioning for Kelly to speak.

The yeoman answered immediately, "Captain, I'm sure you remember the whole business with the faked turian distress call and how they claimed to disable that Collector ship? Remember how the Collectors faked it, and the Illusive Man knew because it didn't contain secondary encryption?"

"Yes..." he trailed off.

"They're an exact match," Samantha stated, "Which means the Illusive Man is behind this, not the Reapers. Which means..."

Marcus' eyes and body filled with rage as his fists clenched, "Which means Cerberus is attacking the Academy and doesn't want anyone to know; so they made everyone believe it was being evacuated when it wasn't."

"Exactly," Samantha stated, "And it's a good thing, because if I had waited ten minutes, Cerberus would have cut off the distress call and we'd never know."

"Excellent work Traynor!" Marcus slapped her on the back, and she seemed to recoil from the touch.

She rubbed her back, meekly smiling, "It was really nothing, sir. Just doing my job."

"Well, you're goddamn excellent at it. You too Chambers," he smiled and immediately headed for the elevator, comming the cockpit, "Joker, set a course for-"

"Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula," Joker answered for him in deadpan, "Yeah, I know. Remember? AI overlord hears and sees everything? I've already set a course."

"I also see the extensive pornographic collection you have from the Fornax Archive, Mr. Moreau," EDI deadpanned, "Along with the game you are-"

"Whoa! That's enough EDI," Joker embarassingly stated, "Eh...you didn't hear that, did you, Captain?"

"Consider your privledges revoked Joker," Marcus remarked with a grin, "No get going."

"Yes sir," Joker stated.

Marcus continued into the elevator, and wondered just what they'd find at that Academy.

Afterall, he did send David Archer there a year ago after he shutdown Overlord.

**"David wasn't all you met there."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"No. I seemed to have been in a very small galaxy at the time."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Grissom Academy chapter is up next, guys. Might be awhile though; school and a lack of internet connection can be a bitch. That, and I'm doing another playthrough of the series, so that doesn't help either. :/** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	17. King of the Boy Scouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy arrives to save the Grissom Academy students from falling into Cerberus hands: Shepard reunites with an old friend in the process. She's changed quite a bit.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN:**

**KING OF THE BOY SCOUTS**

_June 9, 2186_

_1739 hours._

_Docking Tube A1, Control Center, Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Petra Campaign: Cerberus Raid on Grissom Academy._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

"Hangar is in sight, Shepard," Cortez declared, a view of the docking bay coming into view as they raced towards it at full military thrust, "ETA is imminent."

"Good job Cortez," Marcus complimented, slapping the man's shoulder as he unhooked his mattock from his back, turning into the troop bay, "Land there and we'll lock the door behind us."

Cortez gave a brief nod as he brought the shuttle through the compression field and down into Docking Bay A1, the bottom almost skidding against the ground due to the speed they hit it at. Marcus was almost jolted from his feet by the sheer impact, him and the rest of the squad, but they quickly repositioned themselves, making towards the hatch as the Spectre took point, Garrus at his side.

Returning to the Vetus System was something Marcus hadn't done in a very long time; he had come here, once upon a time. And he wasn't talking about a year ago when he came to Grissom Academy directly to drop off David Archer; an autistic savant used as a lab rat by his brother, Gavin, both working for Cerberus, in trying to create an advanced AI that can control the geth called Overlord, something which he put a stop to, believing David would be safe on the Academy. No, he was talking about years before; a long time before the Battle of Eden Prime, and the Normandy SR-1.

Elysium was the gleaming, cosmopolitan capital of human civilization in outer Alliance space. Not only was it an Earth-like world that fully supported levo-based life, but it was also a symbol of human advancement; like Eden Prime was a symbol of human outer space colonization. Unfortunately, as much as Elysium was humanity's shining metro jewel as Illium was the asari's, it was also subject to a dark past; Marcus had been there during the Skyllian Blitz, when a mercenary army had invaded Elysium, hoping to enslave the population and force the Alliance from 'batarian territory.' Of course, the attempt failed because he stopped it; single-handedly halting an army of 10,000 batarians before reinforcements stopped the invasion altogether. It was also where Marcus lost his first girlfriend; a girl named Roshia. It was a day he had always hated.

And now he had returned, although not directly. The Petra Nebula was surrounded; Reaper forces were reported to be advancing upon it, which is why a general evacuation call was sent to all human colonies, including Elysium, to abandon the nebula and escape. This was a big time in human history, but dire nonetheless; Elysium was being evacuated, which meant the station in its orbit had to leave to; Jon Grissom Academy, named after the great human pioneer himself who helped settle the first worlds after the Mass Effect discovery.

Unfortunately for Grissom Academy, that evacuation wasn't going to happen thanks to Cerberus.

They had arrived at the Academy to find it held hostage by a Cerberus Cruiser named the CAW Hannibal, and a squadron of Cerberus coloured SX3 fighters, which were likely there to shoot down any escaping shuttles, or motivate them from doing so. Either way, it wouldn't remain that way. As quickly as him and his team deployed in the shuttle to the station, Joker used the Normandy as a distraction, and before he knew it, Joker had caught the frigate in a high speed chase with the fighters, and executed enough turns and spins to keep the Hannibal from locking onto it, forcing it to leave its blockading orbit and chase after the frigate, giving the shuttle enough time to land. And here they were now.

The hatch shot open, and Marcus and Garrus were there instantly to greet any unwanted hostiles. Finding the bay empty except for some abandoned and stacked crates and a few forklifts, the spectre moved forward and landed on the ground, weapon still brandished as he raised it, aiming at the doorway while Garrus remained on his left, Keeling joining him on his right. Liara, EDI, Javik, James, Kasumi and Wrex quickly joined them on the shuttle, the krogan giving a mild grunt as he landed. Marcus hadn't even asked the battlemaster, but Wrex had insisted on going; said he was getting bored of sitting around and needed some action. He asked Mordin, but the salarian said he was free to go; and that he himself had a cure to synthesize, and couldn't join them. Just Wrex, then.

He pointed to the door, "Kasumi, get that door open; nice and quietly," he turned to Keeling, "You're sure this is the docking bay opposite the control center?"

As the master thief danced over to deal with the door, Keeling gave a tactile nod of acknowledgement, "I showed you the schematics of the station in the War Room; this is definitely it. Besides, all over docking bays are likely occupied by Cerberus. This offered the best entry vector. That, and with the control center in our hands, we'll have control of all the Academy's major systems."

"Shep!" Kasumi cried out, standing as the door opened, "The door is open. You can clap for me later."

Marcus nodded, motioning Garrus and Keeling forward before following, the squad taking up the rear in defense.

Wrex laughed as they entered the sterile white corridor of the control center, shaking his head, "I've missed this, Shepard."

Marcus quirked an eyebrow at the warrior, a little smile creasing his lips, "What, rescuing scared children from a psycho terrorist group working for the Reapers? Doesn't ring a bell."

The krogan slapped him on the back, claymore in his other hand before gripping it with both as he grinned, his full set of teeth made visible as his lips peeled back, "No, fighting side by side. Three years of politics and mewling has gotten really boring. Its good to be in back in action," his grin lessened a little, scratching his chest armor, "Pity it's only for a bit."

"There's plenty of room on the Normandy," the spectre offered.

The krogan shook his head, "Sorry Shepard, but if you want the krogan for your UGC alliance, then you'll need me in charge, and I can't do that from the Normandy. And I'm not leaving that idiot, Wreav, in charge again. He may be my brother, but I certainly don't trust him to not 'wreak revenge' on the salarians after the genophage is cured. You'll need me to keep him in his place."

"Oh well," he shrugged, "Enjoy it while you can then, Wrex."

The krogan grinned once more, "I intend to."

As they moved through the corridor, they quickly noticed a deserted security checkpoint up ahead; noone nearby, and all the consoles were cold; only the door showed any life, and it was bright red. Kasumi wasted no time in making her way over, hacking into the door and opening it in no time.

As it did, they were gifted to a view of a fireteam of assault troopers, led by a centurion, as always, with a combat engineer knelt before the control room door, attempting to hack into it while the centurion shouted at someone behind the door, "Open the door, Sanders! There's no point in resisting any further! The Alliance isn't coming to save you, and we have the entire station under our control! All the kids are ours, so you might as well give yourself up!"

There was no answer. Obviously this 'Sanders' was not yielding any information.

The Cerberus soldiers seemed completely oblivious to the Normandy crew on their right, so, as one, Marcus and his squad raised their weapons to aim at the soldiers, fingers on the triggers.

The centurion managed some final demands, "Open the damn door, you stupid bitch! It's over! You cannot-"

The corridor was filled with the noise of different forms of gunfire, and it all lasted under ten seconds before all went silent. When it was over, there was smoking gun barrels, and the corpses of five dead Cerberus troopers, bodies slumped on the ground and red blood pouring from their riddled cadavers.

Reloading, the squad quickly made their way over, James using his Revenant to roll the dead engineer's corpse over onto its back, its ruptured visor spotted with red blots and husk face cut and split by the broken shards of glass. James simply grunted, and went about doing the same with the rest, ensuring they were dead. Marcus had been about to knock on the door when it suddenly shot open, and a lone form stood behind it, dressed in alliance navy blue.

She was beautiful for her age, he'd give her that. She had golden hair that was puffy and lay over her left shoulder, and her uniform was thick, but tight. Her eyes were bright blue, and her skin a tanned-creamy color, but smooth. She walked with a grace, and she would have looked harmless if it wasn't for the Scimitar shotgun she held in her hands.

She saw the N7 initials on Keeling's armor and sighed in relief, letting the weapon slack in her grip, "Thank god, Alliance reinforcements. I thought they'd abandoned us."

Marcus shrugged, "You were ordered to evacuate. The Reapers are invading the Petra Nebula as we speak."

She looked up, shaking her head as she dropped the shotgun on the ground, turning away to head over to a nearby control console, "Oh, we tried. Then that cruiser just had to show up. Now we've got a lot of dead staff and alot of frightened children either hiding, running or captured. I don't even want to know what Cerberus wants with this Academy, but it can't be good."

Marcus tried to think of just why Cerberus would want this place, when it hit him; the Ascension Program; helping human biotics harness and control their abilities, and learn how to use them. Cerberus had tried their own program, except theirs was more brutal and violent; full of torture and conditioning and ruthless experimentation; it all conjured memories of the Cerberus facility he had found on Pragia, an installation called the Teltin Facility.

It was where Jack had been brought to when she was kidnapped by Cerberus, and where they turned her into the powerful human biotic she was today. Through torture and meddling. And now, Cerberus wanted every biotic the Academy had to offer; kidnap them and do what with them? Take the biotics and implant control chips in their heads? Then it dawned on him; dragoons.  _The Illusive Man is a tenacious piece of shit. He wants to kidnap these kids, implant control chips in their brains, and make them into more dragoons for his army. Or, at least that's what he_ _ **thinks**_ _he wants; maybe its just more of the Reapers' commands._

Ordering his squad to hold position outside, he quickly approached Sanders at the control console, where she was furiously typing. He holstered his mattock, "I'm Captain Marcus Shepard, Alliance Navy, and Captain of the SSV Normandy SR-2."

"Senior Program Coordinator Kahlee Sanders. And I know who you are, and it makes me all the more glad that you're here," she stated, turning to him with a smile, "David's told me alot about you."

"David? As in David Archer?" Marcus asked, confused.

"No," Kahlee stated with confusion, shaking her head, "David, as in David Anderson."

Marcus' eyes widened instantly, "Wait...you know Admiral Anderson?"

"Know him?" Kahlee laughed, shaking her head as she looked at the terminal sadly, "Hell, I love him. And he loves me. Our relationship is something of a lost cause among all our jobs, but we hope to mend it at some point," she sighed, "Maybe when this war is over, I'll see to that."

He nodded with a weak smile, "You're not the only one who has someone to see to after this damn war is done with," he shook his head, dispelling the thought, "Kahlee, just what is the situation here? I know there's a Cerberus Cruiser and fighters here, so they must want these kids pretty badly; the Normandy is distracting them momentarily, but we need to think up a plan," he gulped, not liking the following words coming from his mouth, "Are...is there anyone on this station left to save?"

Kahlee let out a breath of air, typing into the terminal more and nodding as she seemed to find the results she wanted, "Well, there's good news and bad news. Bad news, most of the children have been taken by Cerberus. Good news...well, there's two groups of children left on the station; one seems to be locked in the armoury for the security guards in the Ascension Block, and one seems to be trapped in the main Mess Hall, although I sent that group there; good to see they arrived safely. Although, considering their teacher, I'm not surprised. She's quite the powerful biotic, with an extensive history with Cerberus, I believe."

 _Wait, powerful biotic? Extensive history with Cerberus? No, that's either the galaxy's biggest coincidence, or she's...no, that can't be._ "Wait, do you mean Jack? Is her name Jack?"

She frowned at him, slowly nodding, "Yes, that's her name. You know her?"

He nodded, "She was part of my crew before my arrest. I was wondering where she went off too; last I saw her, she was recovering in Huerta Memorial on the Citadel."

"Yes," she nodded, smiling, "The Alliance took notice of what she did with you to stop the Collectors and, due to her exceptional abilities, offered her a position here as a teacher. Given her psychological profile and anger management issues, we thought she would refuse, but...she almost leapt on the opportunity. And while she is quite strict, she has been producing results...and she...well, the kids  _love_ her. She's like a mother to them. And she'll do anything to protect them; when Cerberus attacked, I watched her tear apart a squad of soldiers trying to restrain Rodrigez."

 _Jack, a motherly figure? Protective of children? Maybe she's changed. Maybe she's finally grown up._ The thought brought a smile to his face, but he quickly washed it away, shaking his head, "While I'm happy to know Jack is here, why didn't you evacuate sooner? You knew the Reapers were invading since Earth fell; that was seven days ago. You had plenty of warning, but didn't leave?"

"Many did," Kahlee stated, sighing as she ruffled a hand through her hair, "Some decided to stay. Some in the Engineering Corp wanted to help with preparing prototype technology, and others from the Ascension program, our biotics, wanted help in preparing themselves for...front-line warfare. We planned to deploy them as biotic artillery, Captain."

"Biotic artillery?" He questioned, face creasing in anger, "Cerberus is here to use these children for war, yet the Alliance wanted them to do that anyway?"

"It was the very reason Jack was here to train in the first place. And these children, these  _young adults,_ voted to stay. Jack is a powerful biotic and she's seen battle, which means she's perfect for training them," Kahlee shook her head, "We're training them for dual roles; either they will serve as biotic artillery for the UGC, or as biotic support for marine contingents."

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck, nodding. He knew he couldn't judge; he had dragged Kasumi, a thief, into this war to be a soldier, and these children had chosen to help. And in retrospect, with the UGC so vulnerable at present, they needed all the support they could get. Which meant the Ascension Program needed to be saved.

"Well, it's too late to argue the semantics of evacuation now," he leaned against the wall, practically looking down on Kahlee as he spoke, "We need to get these children out of here. The Normandy can evacuate the rest of the station and have you taken to UGC HQ, but not with that cruiser nearby, which means we need a shuttle until it can be dealt with."

"Can't you just destroy it?" Kahlee asked.

He shook his head, "It's too close, and it's refusing to move its orbit too far. If we destroy it, the debris will damage the station...possibly destroy it. No," he shook his head, "We will destroy it, but only once we've saved and evacuated everyone we can."

Kahlee nodded, bringing up a camera feed of the mess hall on three terminals up above her and hanging from the ceiling, images of students huddling on the upper level easily seen while occassionally Cerberus soldiers rushed their positions, only to be torn apart by mass biotic assault. Cerberus was halted, but not for long.  _They'll bring in an Atlas soon...they won't stand a chance, even with Jack..._ He unholstered his mattock, turning to face her, "Where's the mess hall?"

She opened her omni-tool, and sent the coordinates to his, "I've sent you a NavPoint; should take you straight to it. You'll meet alot of Cerberus resistance, no doubt. They're all over the place."

He smiled, "We'll deal with the soldiers, you deal with finding us an escape shuttle."

She nodded, getting to work on the terminals as he walked back outside, his squad having taken up defensive positions all over the corridor, covering the rear and forward entrances and exits. Meeting them, he whirled a finger in the air for all of them to form up on him, uploaded the NavPoint to his HUD, and then moved forward down the hall, Kahlee overriding the door at the end and opening it before they even reached it.

Running down the hall, they turned left and through another door to come into a T-shaped corridor, two doors at each end; the left one locked with no interface, and the right one unlocked with a green interface. The wall infront of them was glass, and they could see the other T-shaped corridor on the other side...where a student was currently being dragged across the ground by an assault trooper, who was surrounded by other troopers and a centurion leading them, a dragoon taking up the back. The student kicked and screamed, obviously a engineer as he didn't use his biotics, but the trooper seemed to barely faze with the effort of dragging him. Marcus wasn't about to let them get away with it.

Seeing how thick the glass was, he ordered Javik to use his superhot particle rifle and James to his light machine gun to burst the glass, signalling Kasumi, EDI and Liara to ready their SMGs to fire. Marcus pulsed his biotics, ready to deal with the dragoon, and Garrus took aim with his sniper rifle on the centurion. Wrex also readied his biotics, ready to come to Marcus' aid.

With a thrum of energy, accompanied by a steady staccato cough, Javik and James opened fire, the glass either shattering outwards and raining on Cerberus or melting from the sheer heat of the prothean's rifle. The shattering confused the troopers as they whorled around, but the assault began in earnest.

Three troopers dropped as they were riddled with SMG bullets, and Liara sent a warp flying into the one dragging the young teenager, the blast stunning him as element zero ate away at armor and flesh, but the soldier did not scream, merely dropping his avenger. Another trooper went for his Hornet SMG sidearm, but EDI whirled around with speed only capable of a synthetic, reloaded and fired again, the trooper's head splitting like a melon as he fell backwards, dead.

The centurion fired at Kasumi, the mattock tearing her shields apart but not before Garrus landed infront of her, crouching, taking aim and firing, his Reaper easily blowing the commander's helmet and skull open as his red viscera spread over the floor, coating it.

The dragoon launched a biotic shockwave that staggered EDI and Liara, both falling onto their backs, but in seconds Wrex appeared at his side, laughing maniacally as he clenched his fist and then back-handed the soldier across the face, head reeling back as it almost snapped from the force. The dragoon tried to bring his biotics to bear again, only to be picked up and slammed into a wall by the krogan, Marcus backing off as the krogan brought his shotgun up, shoved it into the dragoon's chest, and reduced his torso to red matter with a single shot, viscera and blood painting the wall like a thick paint.

The kid shakily got to his feet, blinking, as if trying to come to terms with what just happened; one moment he was being dragged away, and the next his captors were all dead. He got up, wiping the drying blood from his pants and looked up, watching his rescuers come into view. He stumbled, backing up against the wall as his eyes danced between them, but then they finally landed on Marcus', who had removed his helmet.

"You're...you're Commander Shepard, aren't you?"

Marcus nodded, "I am, but I'm actually a Captain, now. We're here to help; this is my squad. What's your name?"

The kid gulped, letting out a sigh of relief, "Sean...S-S-Sean Wight."

"Well, Sean Wight," he moved up and placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the kid's shivers.  _He's terrified._ "You're safe now. You should go to the control room," he pointed to the corridor behind them, "Sanders is there, she'll keep you safe. You don't have to be afraid. Cerberus...we're going to stop them. Me and my team."

"You're going to save us, aren't you?" Sean shakily asked, swallowing, "You're going to stop Cerberus and the Reapers, right?"

Marcus didn't even hesitate in his answer, " _I know_ we're going to stop them. No matter the cost, I swear, we'll end them. But I need your help, and I need you to get to Sanders in the Control Room."

"Okay..." he breathed, "But...my sister...could you find my sister?"

He nodded, "What's her name?"

"Hillary," he stated, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We'll find your sister Sean, and we'll bring her back to you. I promise," he turned away, turning away, "Now go Sean. We've got to find the others, and your sister, and I can't bring you with me; it's too dangerous. Go; Sanders'll keep you safe."

Sean quickly nodded, taking a second to understand what had just happened before rapidly hurrying off and over the barrier seperating the two corridors, before moving up the steps on the other side and disappearing around the corner. Satisfied that the kid was now safe, Marcus turned to the left, seeing a door at the end that had a green interface. Before he could do anything however, Keeling came up to his side.

"Would you prefer that I go and protect Coordinator Sanders, sir?" Keeling asked, face set in a grim line, "The team is strong as is, and while Sanders may have combat experience, it would do good for her to have an escort, as well as that adolescent."

He raised an eyebrow at the N7, "You sure Keeling? We work better in a team."

She shook her head, "And this'll be for nothing if one more civvie dies or is captured by these Cerberus SOBs. Can't let this get anymore TARFU. Sanders and that kid need escort, and I'm an N7. I'm the best choice."

"Very well," he saluted her, and the N7 returned it firmly, "Be careful, Keeling, and keep Sanders and Wight alive. Here's hoping we find Jack, the students and his sister.  _Not. One. More._ Cerberus gets no more. Protect them at all costs, but do not let Cerberus get their hands on them. I know you understand me, Keeling."

The N7 gave a firm nod before dropping her hand and wielding her rifle one final time, turning and sprinting the same way Sean did. The squad turned around to face the door again, James a little bit weary, "You sure she should go alone?"

"I'm sure James. She can handle herself; she's special forces," he motioned to the door, "Garrus, Javik, you two are on point. Everyone else, on me. Let's push forward and get to the mess hall."

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_June 9, 2186_

_1819 hours._

_Orion Mess Hall Access Corridor, Ascension Block, Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Petra Campaign: Cerberus Raid on Grissom Academy._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

The last Cerberus soldier fell as Wrex slammed his foot into his chest, causing his ribcage to cascade in on itself as his blood and viscera spread across the floor from the heavy force. Chuckling, the krogan backed off, allowing Marcus to stalk forward and past the dead troopers upon the door at the end, which was currently green and active, door itself coated in bloodstains from the combat that took place just now.

He quickly fell into a crouch, taking a swig of his canteen before reattaching it to his belt, readying his rifle as he let an escaping drip of water trickle down his lips and onto the ground before reattaching his helmet. He placed his head against the door, instantly hearing the shouting and cursing that remisicent of Jack, and the gunfire and cybernetic voices of Cerberus forces. Then he heard the cries of the kids.  _Yes, they are definitely here._

He turned to his squad, motioning for James to crouch behind him, and for Garrus to take position on the other side, Kasumi behind him. Wrex took position infront of the door, EDI behind him, with Liara taking the rear, ready to provide support along with Javik. Seeing that his team was in position, he quickly keyed the door, watching it slide open.

The sound of gunfire and shouting intensified a thousand fold as soon as it opened, making it seem alot closer than it was. The smell of sulfur made the presence of explosions a down-right fact, and the staccato beat meant avenger assault rifles and Hornet sub-machine guns were hard at work.

Turning around the corner, he saw the massive Orion Mess Hall. Rows upon tables and columns of support struts lined the room, with two entrances on the left and right. Stairwells lay on each side leading upstairs to a closed, upper observation deck where he could see numerous children currently hidden, occassionally dropping bombs of dark energy upon the Cerberus invaders. Below the deck was another corridor leading down a stairwell to a door at the end that had a red interface.

Both sides were being swarmed; centurions led squads of assault troopers, guardians, combat engineers, dragoons and phantoms. And among all of them, he watched one Atlas awkwardly try to duck under a doorway until it finally decided to simply burst through the wall, sending chunks of debris flying in all directions, raining down on its own troops. And in the middle of the approaching attack force or rather, their destination, continued to shout and curse.

"-you fucking assholes! That the best you have? You fucking pansies! You pieces of shit! I'll wipe the floor with your fucking viscera!"

Multiple flashes of blue occurred from her location, and each one accompanied a trooper being sent flying, either collapsing into an ally or slamming into a wall, but most ended up dead. One by one, they fell like flies, crying out every single time as they feebly tried to save themselves. Marcus could only smile as Jack finally got what she wanted; the ability to kill waves upon waves of the people who wronged her on Pragia.

His team prepared to move forward and he quickly swung around the corner, rifle raised as he took aim at the nearest assault trooper. He opened fire, his shot splitting open the kneecap of the soldier as he fell onto one knee, a shot through the back of his head ending whatever pain he may have felt. Wrex quickly tackled with a guardian, tearing the shield off of him and tossing it away before ramming his claymore into his gut and blowing him asunder. The rest of the squad added their own assault and soon, Cerberus found themselves under a two-pronged defensive and offensive.

He managed to see the sight of two children, a young woman and man in their later adolescent years, both maintaining a weak, but strong enough biotic field around an unseen form of who he assumed was Jack. They seemed to be struggling, and it wouldn't be long before they broke; and if that Atlas managed to get off a single shot, that barrier would shatter. He needed to act fast.

Unhooking a grenade from his belt, he primed and tossed it, bringing up his omni-shield and quickly aiming in the general direction of the blast zone. He was quickly greeted by the sound and feel of the blast on his skin; beads of heat and fire dancing around him as they licked at his energy shield, protecting him but leaving the many enemy soldiers around him to be blown apart and their limbs tossed around.

He brought the shield around and down upon the head of a charging phantom, the shear heat acting as a molten sycthe as it travelled down and completely chopped the assassin in half, sacks of white hot meat collapsing to the ground in a heap, katana sword clanging on the steel floor. He continued forward, a pulse of energy sounding behind him and tearing into another assault trooper, followed by a sniper shot slamming into a nearby dragoon, tearing him apart. EDI appeared and ducked under one centurion's swing, pinning her SMG into the crook of his neck and then firing, bullets tearing apart his throat in a geyser of blood. James' Revenant roared and dropped troopers unbelievably quick, and Liara and Wrex joined their biotic powers to send a ripple of liquid fire down the Cerberus ranks, scattering the enemy even more. Surprised by the new assault they were only now paying attention to, the enemy began to retreat.

But the Atlas continued to approach like a silent sentinel, the pilot's red eyes totally fixed on Jack. Marcus could only watch as everything thudding step brought it closer, slowly raising its rocket arm to take aim, the clunk of an explosive projectile being loaded into the chamber easily heard over the break in gunfire.

Once the enemy had fallen back sufficiently, they renewed their attack, attempting to keep a field of fire on them. Marcus winced as a shot impacted a pot plant, sending up a plume of dirt that stuck to his visor and forced him into a crouch to avoid being shot while he wiped the dirt from his helmet. Suddenly, his HUD began screaming at him, and he realized his shields were gone. He ducked out of the way too late, but was saved by a field of biotics that sent him flying faster, and he slammed into another pot plant, his vision becoming fuzzy for a moment.

Rolling himself over, he saw Jack laughing as she suddenly appeared before him, as if having biotically teleported. She looked down on him, grinning, "Shepard, what the fuck are you doing here!?" she ducked as a shot glided past her, "Actually, forget that question. Help me protect these guys!"

He nodded, about to motion to his squad when he realized they had already taken positions around the room, each keeping back the Cerberus advance. But what they couldn't hold back was the Atlas, and all it did was get closer and closer. She turned to Marcus, motioning to the massive combat mech, "Let's go kick some ass."

He smirked in return and hefted his mattock with renewed purpose, leaping to his feet as he followed the teacher's example and charged up his biotics, beginning to hit the mech with a non-stop barrage of warp fields. Again and again they reverbrated off of its kinetic barriers, only causing the Atlas to divert its attention towards him.

Which is exactly what Jack had in mind.

He watched the dismembered arm of a dragoon slam into the cockpit, followed by Jack, covered in red, landing ontop of the cockpit, growling as she swam in biotic energy. She raised a biotically enhanced fist and quickly brought it down on the hatch control panel, sending sparks flying as the hatch automatically opened; a failsafe to stop the destruction of the control panel from trapping the pilot inside. Grinning wickedly, Jack leapt inside as the pilot desperately trying to get out and escape. Punching him in the face, Jack then followed up by grabbing him by the back of the head and tossing him out, casually ignoring him as she leapt from the cockpit after him, showing no interest in the death machine.

Quickly moving up, Marcus managed to land a shot through the pilot's head just as he moved to unholster his Hornet sidearm. Looking up, he saw Jack muster all her biotic might before sending it spiralling forward in a dark energy hurricane, the force toppling the mech and sending it backwards. Marcus could only look on in awe as he heard the numerous cries of alarm from Cerberus troopers using the mech as cover and trying to scramble, only to be caught under it and completely crushed, their cries cut off.

Looking away from her handiwork and meeting his eyes, Jack could only cry out in impression at her own work, her students seeming to oddly cheer her on as she did, "F-hell yeah! Cerberus fuc-scumbags!"

He perked an eyebrow at her, although he doubted she'd see it from under his helmet. He suddenly remembered the firefight they were in and quickly raised a biotic barrier around Jack, saving her from a stray hail of bullets. Nodding her appreciation, she turned to deal with the enemy while he contacted his ally, "Sanders! I'm in Orion Hall but Cerberus is constantly closing! We've pushed them back, but they'll send reinforcements soon! Can you do anything on your end?"

"I can lock the doors to the hall. They'll hack through them eventually, but it'll buy you time to get out of there," she replied. A few seconds later, she spoke again, "There, all the doors are locked; I've locked them with the station's best security coding, but it won't last long against them. Please be quick about them."

"Copy that," he turned to his squad's comms, "Okay team, doors are locked and the hostiles in here are the ones we've got. Prioritize and eliminate. No survivors, you know the drill. Bag 'em and tag 'em."

The next minute was spent systematically vanquishing any of the Cerberus soldiers remaining in the Hall. When they were done, the hall was literally filled with the dead, all of them Cerberus. Jack had definitely gotten what she wished for.

His squad took a breather, all of them taking time to look over the carnage. Tables had been overturned or blown over, gunholes littered the ground or said tables, and corpses were slumped all over the place, blood dripping and swirling over the floor and walls. It was bloodbath for lack of a better term, but they had exacted a heavy toll on the Cerberus forces; they were going to have to be careful from now how they attacked.

Holstering his rifle, he turned to the sound of chuckling, turning as he saw Garrus shaking hands with the ex-convict turned teacher, the biotic herself smiling like it was christmas. Many of the children gathered around, some choosing to say situated above on the observation deck where they felt safest. He removed his helmet, pinning under one arm and let his squad continue to recover, moving over to speak with Jack in the meantime.

Now that he got to actually look at Jack fully, he immediately noticed how different she looked; she had changed drastically over the six months they had not seen each other, not just mentally, but physically as well. The Jack from last year was bald, covered from head-to-toe in tattoees of numerous purposes, tanned skin, harsh eyes, plump red lips and was almost totally naked except for multiple straps around her torsos that just barely hid her nipples and area inbetween her thighs; everything else was open to the world.

But now she was almost entirely different. She had now let some actual hair grow, dark brown, shoulder-length hair now covered her scalp, all tied up in a ponytail. The gold ear piece she had wrapped around her ear was still present, and her eyes now took on a cooler, less hostile quality, and her lips looked more proper and less inflated. She was still covered head-to-toe in tattooes, but instead of simple leather straps to cover the necessities, she now wore a proper vest to cover her chest and most of her torso, along with some tight jeans. All in all, Jack looked like a proper person now, not a tough girl trying to prove something. She really had grown up since last he saw her.  _Those eyes...and the way she fiercely protected her students...hell, I'm still coming to grips with the fact that she's a teacher. Let's not add motherly tendencies into the mix._

He continued his approach until he was infront of the girl, and he smiled in welcome. He didn't get what he expected, being forced to duck as she swung her fist at his head, the instinct coming out of nowhere. He frowned at her in confusion as he stood up, a tinge of annoyance in her eyes, "What the hell, Jack?"

"You fuc-bloody idiot!" she growled, "I told you Cerberus would come and bite us in the ass at some point!"

Garrus merely shook his head in response, voice flanged, "You're not telling us anything we don't already know, Jack."

"But its good to see you too," Marcus added, grinning as the teacher seemed to deflate, getting over her random outburst.

"Yeah, it's about time the king of the boy scouts turned up," Jack exasperated, shaking her head as she turned away, looking at the students. Nodding to them, she turned back to Marcus, "I was wondering when you'd turn up."

"I'm sure Jack," he rolled his eyes, "Although I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't think you'd be the teaching type."

"I'm usually not," she stated, "Let's just say that a certain justicar convinced me to do something greater than I was doing, and the boy scout king urged me along a little with his words of wisdom...or some crap like that. And here I am."

"The psychotic biotic!" one kid remarked, a young man in his teenage years.

"I will destroy you!" another girl shouted from above, clenching her fist to accentuate her point with a grin.

Jack sighed, turning to look up at her, "Go drink your juice, Rodrigez. You couldn't destroy wet tissue paper," she turned back to Marcus, shrugging, "And this is the shit I have to put up with. These kids are retarded, but they are my retards," she hissed, clenching her fists, "And Cerberus picked one hell of a time to attack this station, but I'm not complaining. More assholes for me to kill."

"As much as I know you are enjoying this," Marcus remarked, grinning, "Time is out. The Reapers will reach this system soon, and they will destroy the Academy when they get here. Which means we need to leave."

"Well shit," she rubbed her temples, "You hear that kids!? We're getting out of here!"

The kids cheered, whooing their teacher as they waved their arms in the air in celebration, one girl seeming to latch onto her boyfriend up above. Marcus shook his head, drawing Jack's attention, "We'll contact Joker and have Cortez deploy a shuttle here."

"Who the fu-the hell is Cortez?" she asked, frowning.

"Our new shuttle pilot," Kasumi appeared, dematerializing infront of her as she smirked, "He's quiet on the outside, but screaming on the inside. I read that in a poem once. Interested, Jack?"

"Piss off Jap," Jack snarled, and the thief quickly disappeared, giggling all the way. Wrex came up next, grinning the whole way.

"You must be the girl who got herself knocked out on the Shadow Broker's ship," the krogan stated with appreciation, "I can respect that. You're a warrior. Glad we got to meet, face to face."

"Uh-huh," Jack rapidly dismissed, turning to Liara, "I guess you brought bluey too, huh?"

Marcus swore he heard James say 'see, I'm not the only one!' under his breath, but he shrugged it off, simply smiling as he contacted the Normandy, turning towards EDI's platform, "EDI, tell Joker to send Cortez in; we're ready for dust off."

"I cannot recommend that," EDI replied, "The Normandy was only able to distract the Hannibal and its fighter escort temporarily and the cruiser has moved back into position over the Academy, with the fighters keeping the Normandy at bay. I can order Joker to open fire and destroy the warship, but not without a 83 percent chance of damaging or destroying the station."

"That's too high a risk. We'll find another way out," he stated, turning to the squad, "You heard her, we're not leaving through extraction so we need to find another way off this station." Reaching a sudden epiphany, he keyed his comm again, patching into the control center, "Sanders, are you still here?"

"I'm here Captain," Kahlee responded.

"Shuttle extraction is a no go. The Hannibal just reentered orbit over the station and has resumed the blockade," he scratched his stubble, trying to think of something but coming up empty, "We need a second option."

"I can't give you one. There's no other way off the station ex-" she stopped herself, pausing to think about something. Then, suddenly, she spoke again, "Wait!" the sound of typing could be heard, and he had to wait a few seconds before she spoke again, "Yes! There's a Cerberus shuttle in Docking Tube B9; its the one connected to the Jon Grissom Memorial Hall. Jack will know where it is," she stated, "If we hijack one of their shuttles, the Hannibal will recognize the IFF and not open fire. By the time it realizes what's happening, we'll have landed and the Normandy can take the cruiser out."

"What about you, Keeling and Sean?" Marcus asked, "How are you going to get out?"

"I know a way there through the ducts. We'll meet you there. Keeling can help me take the shuttle. Sean will be safe," she stated, "But we have to go now. That shuttle could take off soon to pickup more troops, and they can't know what we're up to. Just follow Jack; she'll take you straight there."

"Very well. Good luck Sanders. With luck, we'll see each other on that shuttle," he declared.

He heard the sound of a terminal powering down as she replied, the feeling of a smile easily palpable in her voice, "Of that I have no doubt. Good luck, Captain. Sanders out."

He nodded, switching off the comm as he turned back to Jack and his team, "Sanders has found a Cerberus kodiak docked in Docking Tube B9. We're going to hijack and use it to bypass the Cerberus blockade and reach the Normandy. The tube itself is located at the Jon Grissom Memorial Hall," he looked directly at Jack, "She said you'd know where that is."

She nodded, pointing to the door leading down through and under the observation deck, Kahlee having taken the initiative and unlocking it, "Yeah, we attempted to evacuate to B9 when we found the place littered with Cerberus assh-scumbags. We had to head here instead, and that's when Kahlee ran off to send out a distress call. The place is probably crawling with Cerberus shitheads."

"It's better than staying here," he firmly stated. Before he went any further however, he looked back at Jack, brow frowning inquisitively, "Wait, is there a Hillary Wight here?"

"Yes! That's me!" one of the girls from earlier, the one holding up the barrier to protect Jack, excitedly declared, "Is there something you want, mister?"

"We found your brother Sean. He wanted me to find you and find out if you're alive," Marcus smiled, "I'm glad to see that you are. Sean's with Kahlee and will see you at the evac point."

Hillary had already clamped her hands over her mouth by the time he finished, letting out a little sob as she let it sink in, "S-s-Sean's alright? H-He isn't dead? Oh thank God. Thank God, Thank God, thank God...Thank you!" she wrapped her arms around him, surprising him by the verocity and suddenness of the gesture, "Thank you! I thought he was dead...or worse!"

"It's what I do," he calmly reassured her, prying her arms from his torso and turning her to face him, "But if you ever want to see him again, we need to get moving."

Hillary gulped, nodding, "Yes sir! Let's get the hell of this station!"

"That's the spirit," he encouraged, turning to face Jack, "Angry, powerful biotics lead the way."

She glared at him, "Oh fuck y-"

Suddenly, a loud, british voice laced with cybernetics spoke over the PA, causing everyone to flinch at the sudden noise, "Students of Grissom Academy, we have the station surrounded. The Alliance soldiers cannot save you. All they can do is get you killed. Surrender and you won't be harmed. That is all I say; the rest is up to you."

Marcus gritted his teeth, while Jack couldn't help but spout out, "Cerberus cunts!" Noticing the shocked faces looking at her, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, get over it for fuc-for god sake! Its just a goddam word!" she groaned, "Now I sound like that Massani jarhead!"

"So my hearing isn't impaired?" Kasumi muttered, "Jack is actually cutting off her own cursing? She is learning."

"Indeed," Marcus quipped, about to speak when the Cerberus soldier spoke again.

"This shouldn't be hard to calculate," the man stated, firmly believing the shit he ranted, "Captain Shepard cannot save you, as he is just one man. We have a cruiser, fighters and the advantage of time on our hands; you either come with us or we leave you to the Reapers. It is your choice!"

 _The Reapers are already here._ He turned to the children, "Ignore him, it's a trap. You give yourselves up, and it's over."

"But what if he's right?" Prangley asked, "What if you can't save us? Maybe we should sue for a ceasefire!"

Rodrigez nodded her consent, "He's right! We can't keep fighting like this!"

"You give yourselves up, and you'll find yourself turned into the very things you've been fighting off.  _That_ is what they want to do to you. That's why they are here," he stated firmly, standing right infront of the two kids, "They will capture you, experiment on you, and then condition you. They will load you with so much Reaper tech that eventually you won't remember who you are, were, or what even  _what_ you are; all you'll know is death and how to follow orders; you won't even be human. The Illusive Man will turn you into his personal puppet; another pawn for him to use. Is that what you want?"

"Cerberus isn't going to play all nice like that boy you took to prom," Jack spat in Rodrigez's face, "So grab your balls from your purse, and let's kick some  _ass_." Jack said this with such firmness and ferocity, he could see Rodrigez's eyes widen in their sockets.

"Y-y-yes. Y-yes ma'am!" Rodrigez replied, nodding erratically to prove she understood Jack's words.

Jack turned to Marcus, smiling before turning back to her kids to prepare them. The Cerberus commander moved to speak again, but Marcus simply unholstered and raised his SMG, destroying the speaker with a single shot as it sparked and spat, the soldier cut off. Turning back he nodded, taking point as they moved out. Time was running out, and they couldn't waste it with these Cerberus clowns.

**{Loading...}**

_June 9, 2186_

_1857 hours._

_Garden F, Security Block, Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Petra Campaign: Cerberus Raid on Grissom Academy._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Senior Teacher Jack, Student Rodrigez Paltarons, Student Prangley Scooner, Student Hillary Wight._

He lined up the sights with the now exposed combat engineer's head, and pulled the trigger once, twice, thrice, four times. The first shot stunned him, second depleted his barriers, the third blew his helmet and skull open, and the fourth shattered his neck, bits of blistery gore flying away in chunks to land on the ground or paint the walls. Not even a gurgle was heard as the engineer simply lost his grip on his phalanx pistol, weapon clattering on the ground as he simply fell where he stood.

He turned his rifle, this time aiming at a phantom that was rapidly approaching his position, unloading two shots into her chest. They harmlessly bounced off her overtly powerful kinetic barriers, and she quickly cartwheeled behind a table, knocking it over with the edge of her blade and taking cover behind it. Confident he was covered in the support department, Marcus let James and Kasumi pin the enemy while he sent a biotic shockwave cascading through the floor, ripping up panelling as it raged like an angry bull towards the table. It impacted with the force of a bomb, shattering the table into multiple fragments, and quickly revealing the crouching phantom, who flew into a wall from the force, but kept her grip on her katana firm.

He holstered his rifle and quickly pulled out his shotgun, pumping the chamber as he speed-walked towards the fazed phantom. Before he went any further however, it got up and raised its unoccupied hand, palm revealing its palm cannon as it charged. He widened his eyes, moving for a combat role, but was too late as it fired, hitting with the force of a shotgun as it annihilated his shields instantly, sending his barriers into overheat.

Still rolling to the side, he managed to get up, fully aware he was now vulnerable. Before he could do anything, the phantom was before him, slashing forward with her sword in an attempt to disembowel him. He strafed to the side, wincing as the sword grazed his side. But the phantom was quick, pulling back and then bringing the sword down with lightning speed, prepared to ram it into his helmet. Out of instinct, he fell to one knee and brought up one arm for a block.

He cried out as the katana seemed to cut through his armor like butter and dug into his arm, his whole appendage feeling as if it was on fire, instantly dropping his weapon. The phantom seemed to scream its triumph, and ripped the sword out, bringing it in to decapitate him.

But Marcus was faster, lashing out with his free hand to clasp around the phantom's throat, and beginning to constrict. The assassin began to struggle, desperately trying to break free as she continued her downward arc. He headbutted her, letting go of her throat as she reeled back, and then reached forward again, grabbing her arm and bringing his elbow slamming into hers.

A screech, and the sword fell from the broken arm, now twisted in an unnatural direction. The phantom fixed its red eyes on him and began to wriggle free when he ducked down, activated his omni-blade, spun it around and rammed it into her gut. She bent over from the blow, the sound of a choking, wheezing sound leaving her mouth, before she effectively went limp, and he ripped his blade out, letting her body crumple to the ground in a heap, blood pooling from the wound in her stomach.

He turned, only to find himself propelled onto the ground from a biotic fist to the gut. Looking up, he saw a dragoon looming over him, preparing another biotic fist.

A loud crack broke the air and Marcus' helmet was coated in thick, hot blood, dripping down his visor and onto his chestplate. Looking up, he saw the dragoon's helmet torn apart, revealing a dismembered head, part of the man's remaining jaw hanging off a flap of gum. The man's eyes looked down at him, lifeless and then a second shot echoed, destroying the rest of the man's face as he flew forwards and onto Marcus. With a groan, he shoved the dead man off of him and wiped his visor with his gauntlet, wiping it enough to restore vision. He reached over and retrieved his shotgun, latching it onto his back and was about to stand up when Garrus reached him, grinning slightly, his smoking sniper rifle laying on his shoulder.

"This has become too familiar," Garrus smugly adjourned, mandibles cracking in an all too familiar smirk.

"Get fucked Vakarian," Marcus replied and the turian held out his hand, Marcus taking it as his brother-in-arms helped him stand. He wiped himself off, suddenly conscious of just how much of the dragoon's essence he was covered in.

"Shit Shepard," Jack whistled, "You look like fucking Satan."

Marcus noted his blood-soaked form, smiling wickedly, "I do make quite the appearence."

"You look like a true krogan," Wrex observed, grinning as he always did during hot combat, "Covered in blood and claymore in hand. Its almost comical."

"Better inform all the suitors," Garrus joked, "Shepard's a krogan. That shortens the list."

"Again," he poked the turian's shoulder as he moved up the steps, "You can sincerely get fucked, Vakarian."

The rest of the squad arrived at the top of the stairs, and the children quickly joined up with them, Jack leading them as always. Liara had given the woman her carnifex hand cannon, and the biotic powerhouse had barely used it; being the most powerful biotic in the galaxy tended to make conventional weapons a bit pointless. Why shoot them when you can rearrange their body's cells with element zero and telekinesis? That's half the fun, as the saying goes.

"Casualty check," Marcus declared, coming to stand infront of them, looking upon them, "Anyone hurt? Did we lose anybody?" This attack hadn't been precedented. They had wondered into a garden area where Cerberus had proceeded to ambush them. They had only escaped by the skin of their teeth.

"Noone's hurt, except Rodrigez took a bullet to her shoulder," Jack hissed, slapping the student across the back of her head, "Because she didn't check her  _barrier_!"

"I-I'm fine! Really!" the girl hurriedy reassured them, "Richard added some medi-gel! I'll be fine."

"You damn well better be!" Jack growled, "Do you know how close your incompetence brought you to death? Do you realize that you almost  _died?_ A little higher, and you wouldn't be with us right now! You almost got yourself  _killed,_ Rodrigez! So don't tell me that you're  _fucking fine_!"

"Jack," Marcus calmly said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Calm down. Rodrigez is okay. She's not dead, which means we've denied Cerberus what they want." He had been surprised by how distraught the prospect of Rodrigez's death had made her.  _Damn._

Jack glared at him, "What the fuck do you know? They're not your kids!" she slapped him on the chest, "They are my responsibility! They became my responsibility when I signed up for this fucking job! Everytime I look at them, Shepard," she pointed at all of them, who looked terrified of Jack's wrath, "Every single one of them. Everytime I look at them, I see Cerberus ready to take them and experiment on them. You know what I see? I see  _me._ Bald, covered in tattooes, and desperate to  _kill something._ Now these fuckers have attacked the station and tried to take them from me, and Rodrigez goes and almost gets herself killed! She's not fine and neither am I!"

Marcus took a step back, and James whistled at Jack, a prompt glare from said person shooting down any other gestures he made. Before he realized it, Marcus spoke, "Jesus Jack, you really care for them, don't you?"

Her glare softened, and she looked at them, mouth opening and closing with every attempt to speak. "I-I don't," she shook the thought away, "They're my students, of course I fucking do."

 _Oh, but I think its more than that Jack. I think you see them as the children you could never have, people who could have been wronged like you, and you sought to stop that from happening; the way a mother protects her son or daughter. You care for them because they represent the children you couldn't have with me._ Marcus realized just how stupid the last bit sounded, but it had been true; he hadn't forgotten the encounter he had with Jack a year ago.  _We never had anything together, she knows that. But I will not deny her this; its not my right. I'm just glad she found a group to love...to associate with without the need for violence._

"Shep, don't mean to break up the heartwarming moment," Kasumi quipped, "But we really should get going. Cerberus all around us and Reapers are coming. You know, the deathly stuff and all."

"Kasumi's right. We don't have time to dwell on this," Marcus declared, placing his helmet back over his head, "We need to get to the docking tube ASAP."

"Agreed," Jack curtly declared, turning to her kids as she motioned them forward, "Come on, we've got some more ass to kick before we evacuate. Hillary, protect Rodrigez. Everyone else, form around them; Shepard's squad will keep you safe! Let's move you little shits!"

And so they continued, up the last flight of stairs and through a door on the left, where they entered a security corridor that veered off to the left. It was straight and bland, but was littered with dead security guards and Alliance soldiers; but they weren't without their merit. Many assault troopers lay dead around them, and there was even a dead combat engineer with a missing arm, and one Nemesis' body lay crumpled in a heap, torso shredded from a shotgun shell.  _They took quite a few bastards with them._ But despite their defense, it was clear security was quickly overrun.

He could see the armoury at the end of the corridor, along with two switchoffs; one on the left and right. The armoury was locked, so that was out of the question. Rifle still pointed at the end of the corridor, he motioned EDI and Liara to watch the corridor while he turned to Jack, "Where to next?"

"The turnoff on the right," Jack stated a-matter-of-factly, "It takes us to an evacuation corridor. If we follow it it'll take us straight to the Memorial Hall. From there, we can reach Tube B9."

He nodded, turning back, "Javik, Wrex, on me. Garrus, hang back with Kasumi and James and protect the kids with Jack. Everyone else, scatter and cover the rear. Check your barriers and watch every corner; take no chances with these assholes." And as one, like a well-oiled machine, they all moved forward as one mass, carefully stepping over every dead body.

They quickly reached the end of the hallway, Marcus quickly checking it was clear. He nodded, and everyone continued forward, only to stop when Marcus raised a closed fist again, turning to the armoury with a frown.

A thud. Voices. Another thud, a yelp. All these sounds came from behind that door.

Turning his rifle away and pointing it at said door, he motioned for EDI and Liara to take either side of the doorway. Satisfied the position was secure, he spoke, loud enough for the armoury's occupants to hear him through the door, "Whoever's in there better show themselves immediately. We know you're in there."

No answer. The sounds had suddenly stopped.

He licked his lips, "I'm Captain Marcus Shepard of the Alliance Marine Corps, and I'm  _ordering_ that you open this door and show yourselves immediately. I will not ask again. Comply  _now._ "

No further sound was heard. When all seemed to be lost, he watched the interface turn green and the door slid open...

...to reveal three frightened students, one a young woman, the other two men. They all seemed to be relieved when they confirmed it for themselves, the woman dropping her omni-shield, deactivating it. Behind them was a massive store of weapons for security, ranging from assault rifles to heavy weapons like the Firestorm or ML-77 Missile Launcher. He lowered his rifle, motioning for his team to follow suit, and was addressed almost immediately by the woman infront.

"Thank God you're here!" she exclaimed, "When Cerberus attacked, we hid in here and locked ourselves in. We thought we were going to die, until you showed up. Thank God..."

"I don't recognize 'em," Jack noted, waving a dismissive hand, "They aren't Ascension biotics. Probably from the Engineering Corps."

"Yes! I'm an engineer, so are my friends Michael and David," she motioned to the two behind her, "I'm sorry for the confusion, but we didn't know if you were Cerberus or not. We  _had_ to be sure."

"It's okay. You're safe now," he smiled reassuredly, and he scanned the three of them. The woman looked unharmed but was covered in grime, her hazel eyes darkened by her situation and dark hair matted. She was dark-skinned, had a slightl limp in her step, and didn't look the fighting type. The man on her right, Michael, had short, blonde hair, a red shirt and blue jeans, and his both skin was disturbed by a cut on his cheek, the red blood coating it having crusted awhile ago and now dry as paint. Then, his eyes landed on David, and he widened his eyes.

The man was bald-headed, with a smooth scalp. He was huddled, arms crossing over his chest protectively and his patient blue eyes gave away his innocence. If the looks didn't confirm it, what he said did, "The square root of 906.01 equals-"

He smiled dimly, "-30.1," he finished.

The man looked up, smiling slightly, but his eyes gave away his nightmarish past. Images of metal wires digging into skin, screaming synthetic voices, wide, terrified eyes and stretched skin. He shook them away, not wanting to remember. He did so just as David spoke, voice shy, "Hello, Commander."

Michael frowned, looking across to him, "Wait, you know him?"

"The Commander saved me. Rescued me from my brother," David anecdotally recollected, "He stopped the voices. Made them go away."

 _"PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!"_ David's voice echoed in his mind, and he once again shook it away, a still image of the man's holographic face appearing into his mind.  _To think Cerberus could have gotten their hands on him again...finish what they started on the poor kid..._

"I see," the woman stated, "My name is Octavia, and it is good to know just who you are, Commander."

"Captain," Marcus corrected, "A recent promotion, not that it matters much; I already commanded a ship, so the rank seems rather pointless now. If you follow us, we can get you to a shuttle for extraction. That's where we are headed."

"Can you do that?" Michael asked, uncertain, "I mean, isn't Cerberus all over the docking tubes?"

"We've killed alot of them," Garrus noted, "We'll kill some more."

"This is why I love this team," Wrex grinned, "I like the way you guys think."

"Come on, let's get going," the captain ordered, turning back to the doorway as David, Michael and Octavia molded into the already large group of students, "I doubt Cerberus is just going to hang around for us to get there."

Moving forward, he tapped the green interface and the door opened, to a sudden surprise.

Right there, in the open corridor, was an Atlas mech. To ther jubilation, it was parked and unmanned, a combat engineer under its carapace and seeming to be fixing one of the joints. The driver, an assault trooper, stood behind him, seemingly complaining while a guardian, shield on the ground and leaning against a wall resting, and another assault trooper, guarding the opposite doorway, stood watch.

"Come on! I need this thing moving soon or Shepard'll get here and we'll be defenseless!" the trooper complained, but the engineer didn't really seem to give a shit, if his response meant anything.

"Unless you want your mech limping every few steps, then you'll shut up and let me do my job."

"Just fix the fucking thing!"

"That is what I was doing. What I'm  _still_ doing."

"Oh for christ-"

As they continued complaining, he turned to Kasumi and silently nodded, the thief understanding immediately. While he drew his omni-blade, Kasumi ducked forth and came up behind the guardian, quickly driving her knife through a crook in the back of his armor, switching off his auditory filter as he slowly died from heart failure. The guardian taken care of, Marcus moved forth and came up behind the pilot.

"-I swear, if Shepard gets here, and this mech isn't ready, I'll leave you to deal with him."

When he was finished, Marcus brought up his blade and sliced it across the trooper's throat, opening it from cheek to cheek and he gently lowered his body to the ground, blood leaking from his mouth and nape. Standing up, he quickly approached the engineer.

"Mitchell? Yo were saying? I've fixed it!" he moved to turn, "I've told you-"

He grabbed him around the ankle and pulled him down, the engineer collapsing onto the ground next to him. The thud was enough to attract the guard's attention, but he was downed by a single shot to the head by EDI before even got to raise his weapon. The engineer rolled over to face him, reaching for his phalanx, but Marcus was too quick and drove his blade into the man's face, shattering his helmet and digging into his skull, killing him instantly. Ripping the blade out and letting the sizzling blood leak out, he deactivated his blade and turned towards the mech, smiling.

"Fixed, eh?" he mused. Suddenly, he holstered his weapon and looked for a grip, finding purchase on a rung and pulling himself up and into the cockpit.

"Marcus, just what are you doing?" Garrus asked, confused.

"Yes, enlighten us Shep."

He turned, taking a seat and strapping himself in, "We've got a perfectly good mech to use here. I think we should put it to use. You guys advance behind me, and I'll advance into the hall and clear any resistance. It'll be fun!"

"You crazy motherfucker," Jack cursed, smiling, "I fucking love it."

"Big guns," Wrex added.

With a smile of his own, he closed the cockpit, the mech's HUD appearing before him. He did a quick check, making sure he understood the controls.  _Its just like walking, just a dozen feet taller._ Bringing his arms up, he turned around, and began moving towards the doorway before suddenly stopping, bringing the heavy cannon to rear and prepping a rocket. Lining up the shot, he fired.

Chunks of metal frame and twisted circuits blew apart as the door was torn from its hinges by the rocket's impact, sending the debris flying into the hall. Then, the wall above it blew apart as Marcus' Atlas emerged, practically unscatched from the heat or the steel it burst through. He casually walked right through it and up the stairs, everyone else right behind him as they moved into the hall.

It was huge, and a large statue of Jon Grissom himself stood tall and proud in the middle, unscatched by the events of the battle. Two dead guardians lay against it, and he guessed that had been Jack's work. And he could only smile at the surprised faces of the three squads of assault troopers and three centurions standing before him. To add to the euphoria, he raised his heavy machine gun and ran a scan...with  _bullets._

Bodies crumbled, limps flew and blood flowed. One by one they were torn apart piecemeal. Centurion's shields meant nothing as they torn asunder, bullets chewing them up as they hungrily blew apart flesh and viscera in clouds of red and black. The odd, lucky soldier might have rolled out of the way or looked for cover, but most were torn apart. Some even returned fire, but the shots merely pinged off his thick armor, and they met their fates pretty quickly. It was a killing field, and he ruled it.

His HMG finally needed to reload, and as the mech began the automatic process, he looked over the carnage. Only a few stragglers survived, and they were quickly picked off by his team. A few had missing limbs such as arms and legs, causing them to either drag themselves across the ground in bloody swaths or attempt to stem the flow of their agony, but it nothing for them, and they quickly succumbed to death.

"Holy fuck Shepard," Jack exclaimed, grinning as she moved up the stairs and into the main hall, "I've been talking about kicking ass, and you let loose with a HMG on a few squads and rain hell. Fuck me sideways if I'm not impressed."

"Jack!" one voice called out, "What have I told you about teacher professionalism? No cursing infront of the students! You're a bad influence!" Everyone turned, including Marcus in the Atlas as he came up the steps, to the left to watch as Kahlee appeared, flanked by Keeling with her raised weapon and Sean. A cry of delight was heard and Hillary took her brother in a hug, which he happily reciprocated. Kahlee ignored the reunion however as she glared at Jack, who seemed to shrink back from it. That caused Marcus to grin.  _Someone who actually intimidates Jack? That's someone worthy of respect._

"Yeah, I fuc-I hear you," Jack stated, turning to glare at any students who were giggling, but none of them did; all of them too terrified and self-defensive to let something like mirth distract them from protecting themselves. Jack, satisfied she was not being laughed at, turned back to Kahlee, nodding as Keeling approached Marcus, looking up at him.

"I see you've acquired heavy armour sir," Keeling quipped, and he swore he could hear a smile in her voice.

"The heaviest Cerberus has to offer," he snarkily replied, "Fall in, Keeling. It's time to get out of here."

"The shuttle hasn't left yet. There's still time to get on it," Kahlee reassured them, pointing to a door at the end, "We should-"

Mechanical whirring could be heard, followed by a rhythmic thud, thud, thud of heavy footsteps from a hulking mech. He rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming and pinpointed the source to the main entrance to the hall; on the right.  _Don't these assholes just give up?_ He looked down at them, looking directly at his turian friend, "Garrus, you're in command. Take the squad and escort the students to the shuttle bay; I'll deal with this Atlas."

"You sure about this Marcus?" Garrus asked, a little worry creeping into his voice.

A clunk was heard as a rocket loaded. Marcus smirked, "No, but my rocket launcher is."

The turian could only shake his head and smile as he turned around and barked orders to the squad, all of them falling into formation immediately and beginning to move to the shuttle bay, the students right behind them and Jack and Kahlee providing cover. Satisfied they were heading for safety, Marcus turned towards the entrance, preparing every weapon his lumbering Cerberus iron man had.

Standing there, seeming to gaze at him, was an Atlas, weapons lowered but slowly approaching; behind it was a rapidly advancing squad consisting of eleven assault troopers, one wielding a missile launcher, lead by the usual centurion, and behind them, was a dragoon. Suddenly, his shields were being riddled as the enemy squad opened fire, and his barriers flinched as the rocket trooper fired and the missile exploded on his shields. The Atlas seemed to stop for a second before continuing its momentum, Marcus moving it forward, step by step.

The Atlas finally raised its heavy machine gun, and it fired. Luckily for him, his kinetic barriers had recharged by that point and absorbed all the enemy fire enough for him to close the distance. His shields failed just as he reached the mech, three rounds wedging into his armor as he decided to mix things up alittle, sending the HMG arm of his mech and using it to bash the other mech.

The force sent the Atlas reeling to the side, like an organic does when slapped across the face. Using the distraction to his advantage, he lowered the rocket launcher at the enemy squad and pressed the trigger, hearing it explode against the floor, chewing up metal and organic matter. Most of the troopers were killed in the blast, but the others had the wits to take off and hide behind their armoured support; unfortunately for them, the blast had taken the life of their rocket trooper.

The enemy Atlas spun back around, repeating what Marcus had done, resulting in the same outcome, but this time, the pilot didn't have a squad to deal with. Before Marcus knew it, it had wedged a machine gun into the back of the crack seperating torso and legs and fired, tearing apart motors and circuits, disabling his legs. Unable to support its weight anymore, the mech collapsed forward, and Marcus watched the cockpit crack with the impact.

Hearing the Atlas approach and soldiers gathering around, Marcus rolled the mech over, sweeping his arm across the floor as he did. This motion sent the lead centurion flying like a rag doll, slamming into a wall and snapping his neck with the force. The blow sent two other assault troopers away, but the dragoon was able to use his biotics to lift him out of the way. Marcus, now facing his enemy, raised his cannon and fired, again and again. Shell after shell pounded into the shielded mech, forcing him to retreat. He raised his HMG to fire, but the shells continued to stun him, making the ability to retaliate an absolute nightmare.

With a final grunt, having heard the familiar clunk, he switched to rockets and immediately fired. One boom later and the Atlas collapsed against the wall, denting the wall as its shields blew open, revealing its vulnerable carapace. Raising his HMG arm, he aimed at the cockpit and let loose, but not before the Atlas raised its own rocket arm and fired at the same time he did.

Collapsing into a fetal position, Marcus merely felt the heat wash over him as the rocket arm on his mech likely exploded, the blast ripping the arm asunder and destroying the mech's torso and shredding the useless legs of the mech apart. After the heat died, Marcus looked up to survey the damage. What he could tell immediately was that his mech was finished, and couldn't be salvaged. The cracked cockpit had now been welded shut from a piece of debris, and the mech was practically destroyed. However, it wasn't without its merit.

The enemy mech wasn't totalled, but it wasn't moving; its cockpit was shattered and its pilot lay in a pool of his own blood, shredded by Marcus' HMG. The mech simply lay back against the wall, unmoving and unoccupied except for a single corpse. Grunting, he began to undo his harness.

He cried out suddenly however when a hand thrust its way through the already broken cockpit, raining glass over him as it latched onto the collar of his armor and  _pulled up._ He was thrown into the air with supernatural strength, and he flew over the mech and onto the ground, the wind blown from him as he landed on his belly. He wheezed as he breathed new air, his vision fuzzy as he struggled to look up and identify his attacker.

He quickly found out as a kick to his helmet sent him rolling onto his back, the front of his helmet banging against his face and causing uncomfortable pain. He winced, but did not cry out; he would not give his enemy that satisfaction. He reached to his holster and pulled out his SMG, but a blur of blue and it was swatted aside like a fly, skidding across the floor. Growling, he looked up, his vision clearing.

The dragoon stood over him, clouded in blue. He reached down now to pull out his claymore, but suddenly found himself in a stasis field. He gritted his teeth as all his limbs became numb and limp instantly, unable to move a single muscle as he simply watched the soldier loom over him, seeming to take him in.  _Yeah, that's right. The asshole who killed Captain Shepard. I'm sure you'll be able to gloat to all your Cerberus buddies at how you killed me._ He thought of Tali in that moment, and how she wasn't even around to know if he died or not.  _A pity we didn't see each other again before I died. I'm sorry, Tali._

After waiting, the dragoon finally formed a warp field in his hand, charging it up to make it as powerful as possible; wouldn't want him surviving, would we?  _Of all the things, its a fucking biotic dumbass who kills me. Not geth, not Reapers, just a random Cerberus dickhead who had too low a pay grade to not become a worthless tool for the Illusive Man. No name. No face. Not even a fucking personality. Fuck me, most embarassing way to die ev-_

Suddenly, the dragoon reeled back as he was hit, full force, with a warp field, one of the most powerful Marcus had ever seen. The charging warp in his head evaporated, and he turned to face the new enemy. Marcus knew there was only one person who could form a field that powerful. He smiled.

Another hit him, and he stumbled. This time he raised a barrier, but it barely deflected third one. Dropping his barrier, he prepped a biotic fist only for Jack to cry out and quickly punch him across the face, the sound of a cracking nose being heard as he stumbled further back. With noone to maintain the field, Marcus regained control of his motor functions, but was too exhausted from it to be any help; he could only watch the battle play out.

"Fuck. You! You. Piece. Of. Shit!" Jack spouted, her hands a blur as she punched the soldier with biotic fist after biotic fist. All of her energy was channelled into this one battle, and it was clear it was one-sided; the dragoon, despite all its enhanced abilities, was rendered incapable of defeating Jack. All it could do was feebly resist. In a last ditch attempt to kill her, it formed a singularity and sent it shooting forward, but Jack seemed to simply vanish as her energy consumed her, and then just as quickly appeared behind the dragoon. The soldier himself seemed confused as his singularity passed through nothing, but he suddenly found his adversary through her voice.

"You can greet the Illusive Man at the gates of hell," Jack roared, "I'll be sending him there shortly!" And with that, she picked him up, lifting him twenty feet into the air. However, Marcus began to notice something else happening to him as he lifted himself up, and he widened his eyes; blood seeped through the man's armor and down his legs, and that could only mean one thing.  _She's reaving him._

The man's body jerked and shook like a puppet's strings being pulled and cut, blood spurting from the cracks in his armor or sent flying from his spastic movements. Finally however, his silent agony ended, and his entire body went limp, now soaked entirely in his blood.  _I haven't used reave since...since..._ He remembered Noveria when he had used it on Kiara Sterling, after she threatened to pop Tali's suit. It had been one of the first pieces of evidence for his growing feelings for Tali. But also one of his darkest moments.  _Noone deserves that. Noone._  Reave literally tore the body apart, from the inside and out, vaporizing everything. It caused wounds to sporadically form all over the body, and then just as quickly pop, causing blood to flow; it came from their eyes, noses, ears, scalp, even the genitalia. It was one of the most brutal ways to kill someone with biotics, and even Samara frowned upon its use; only the most cruel or evil used it.

She finally dropped the dragoon's body, letting go of it like it was nuisance. Turning, she hurriedly moved over to Marcus, barely exhausted. She looked down at him, grinning as she held out a hand to help him up, and he took it without hesitation.

"You came back," Marcus growled, "I thought I told you to head for the shuttle."

"I don't serve on the Normandy anymore," Jack spat back, taking his arm around her shoulder as she helped move his exhausted body towards the extraction zone, "So you can take your orders and shove them up your fucking ass."

"Colorful as always," he replied dryly.

"Who needs colour when the world is full of fucking blood and guts?" Jack replied, "Might as well stick with black and white. Can't see the sick shit that way."

They quickly reached the extraction zone, and he noted the four dead assault troopers lying around, all of them with headshots, excluding one which had the tell-tale marks of having been killed by Javik's particle rifle. Soon, he reached the shuttle, James rushing over to relieve Marcus from Jack's grip and laying him in one of the seats. Satisfied they were safe, James proceeded to head for the cockpit when Marcus cleared his throat, halting him and causing him to turn his attention to him.

"No you don't Vega. No flying for you," the captain declared firmly. He turned to EDI, "EDI, use your cyberwarfare suites on the Normandy and take us into dock. Then, once we're safe, tell Joker to waste that cruiser. I've had enough of Cerberus."

"Affirmative, Captain," EDI replied, standing still as she looked into space. A second later, the shuttle's engines roared to life on their own, the shuttle lifting off and shooting out of the tube. A second later, she turned to him, smiling again, an awkward expression she was still getting used to, "We are now safely heading for the Normandy. Joker has dispatched all remaining fighters and we will dock in two minutes," her smile vanished, "Warning. The Hannibal is diverting course to engage us. It appears its captain has discovered our intent."

He rolled his eyes, "Tell Joker to waste it. No need to delay it any longer. Send that ship into oblivion."

EDI nodded, and silence fell upon them. Taking the initiative to speak in the cramped cabin, Kahlee turned to Marcus, smiling warmly, "Thank you, Captain. We would be dead if you hadn't arrived. You have our gratitude."

"We didn't save everyone," Marcus solemnly replied, "Alot of people died. Good people."

"They'll be remembered. But the students survived. Not all of them, but the majority, and that's a victory in itself,  _senor_ ," James stated, laying his Revenant across his lap.

"Thanix cannon fired," EDI noted in the background, "Hit confirmed. The Hannibal is breaking up; no escape pods. All Cerberus forces have been neatralized; damage to station is minimal to severe. Memorial Hall destroyed, numerous hull breaches across four levels, and life support compromised. Report complete. We will be docking with the Normandy soon."

"Excellent EDI," Marcus complimented, nodding, "Tell Joker he did a good job."

Kahlee smiled, "Once again, thank you. We simply wouldn't have survived if you hadn't come."

"F-screw that, we kicked some ass," Jack grinned at her students, "Next time we dock, you're all getting inked. My treat." The students seemed to grin at this, and Prangley whistled in excitement, while Rodrigez looked dejected at the prospect of getting a tattoo.

Jack continued, "What do you guys want? Ascension Project Logo? Glowing fist?" she turned to Rodrigez, smirking evilly, "Maybe a  _unicorn_ for Rodrigez?"

Rodrigez suddenly met her eyes, glaring, "Screw you, ma'am!"

Kahlee sighed, turning back to Marcus, "Captain, I've been thinking about what you said, back in the control room. You're...right. These students...I don't believe they are ready for the front lines."

"What!?" Rodrigez exclaimed, outraged.

"That's not fair! You can't do that!" Sean objected.

"We volunteered!" Said Hillary and Prangley in unison.

Jack waved them down, "Calm down! Sanders is right," every looked at Jack in surprise, but she simply ignored them, "None of you are ready for battle. Have you ever fought the Reapers? You might think Cerberus is the tip of the iceberg, kids, but I've fought the Reapers; they're pretty scary shit. Even I was bit scared. Those husks are soulless and will tear you apart if they get your hands on you. No pain, no fear and they will not take prisoners unless its to turn you into one of them! None of you, not a single one of you, are ready for full-scale war! You may think you're hardasses, but you're not!"

"Wait," Marcus stated, holding up an arbiter's hand, "Maybe we can make a compromise for both sides."

"A compromise?" Jack spat, wheeling on him, "Don't you even think I'm going to let them-"

"They can serve in a support role. As biotic artillery, but with support," the spectre suggested, "They'll be surrounded by marine squads and reinforced flanks, but will still be able to provide biotic support on the battlefield. They'll be able to fight, but they won't be on the front line, facing the enemy head-on. Everybody wins; we get our biotic troops, and your students are as safe as one can be in combat."

Jack seemed to stop in her tracks, and even Kahlee seemed interested. The students however, did not keep their agreement quiet. Rodrigez shouted 'yeah!' and Prangley whooed in appreciation. Kahlee, accepting the proposal, nodded, "An excellent idea, Shepard. I'm sure Hackett will no doubt agree."

"And I'll be with them, so they'll be safe," Jack agreed, "Okay kids, looks like we're going to war afterall."

That shocked Marcus, "You're not staying, Jack?"

She sighed, shaking her head as the shuttle began to clear the Normandy's docking bay, "The days of kicking Collector ass and blowing shit up without rhythm or reason is over, Shepard. We've all got priorities now; think I didn't notice the bucket-head wasn't here? Of course I did. I bet she's got priorities, and so have I. These are my students," she jabbed a thumb at them, "And I'll fuck up anyone who tries to hurt 'em. Noone fucks with them."

"The Alliance will keep them well protected, Jack. You wouldn't have to worry about them not being safe. They'll be headquarted at the Crucible Project; its the most secret location in the galaxy. Even the Reapers don't know it. Hell, I don't," he noted, "Safest place in the galaxy."

"Yeah, but battlefields aren't," Jack passionately countered, "They would be alone, Shepard. Do you know what these kids are without me? Asses without a badass to lead them. And what happens when the all so secure flank falls apart because the Reapers overwhelm it? My...my kids...they'll be slaughtered...torn apart..." she shook away the emotion, and he swore she almost teared up, but suddenly her face became a mask of irritation, "The Alliance won't keep 'em safe. On the Crucible, maybe. On the battlefield, they'll die without me to keep them safe. They are my responsibility," she grinned afterwards, "Besides, I'm just one more mouth to feed."

"I..." Marcus had no answer, "I...understand. You're making the right choice Jack, I just wanted to make sure you were sure. But you seem to really care about these guys, Jack, and that's quite a thing coming from the person who never used to care," he smiled warmly as he gripped her shoulder, squeezing, "You've grown up. You're an adult now, Jack, and you've woken up to see that life isn't over; you can reshape it. And now you have people to care for. Look after them, Jack. They need you more than I do."

"...thanks...Shepard," she reluctantly replied, nodding as he let go of her shoulder, "I...oh, cut out this sappy shit. I can't-"

"Enough cursing!"

"I don't give a fu-whatever!" she angrily shouted back, annoyed at her inability to curse any further.

"Uh, what the hell was that?" Joker's voice suddenly stated over the PA, apparently having been listening in.

Kahlee replied, and to Jack, her smile would have looked smug, "Jack promised to watch her language in order to maintain the necessary professionalism we expected from our teachers." Jack gave her a glare for that one.

Joker snorted, "What, does she have a swear jar or something? 'Cause I bet if we emptied that thing, we could afford another cruiser."

Jack, finally having enough, stuck her tongue out at Kahlee, something very uncharacteristic of her, and turned to her kids, "Cover your ears, kids," she glared at them until they reluctantly did so, and, smugly grinning at Kahlee, looked up, her grin dropping, "Hey Joker, fuck you you sleezy fucking cunt. I'm going to break every single one of your fucking bones, make you scream like a bitch, and then I'm going to to rip you a new asshole!" She sighed, happy she got that off her chest, "Holy fuck that feels good," she turned to her kids, "Open your ears kids, I'm done."

"Well well well," Joker jested, "The Jack has reappeared once more. I was wondering what Sanders had done with her."

"Shut your month Joker. I can still make good on my promise," Jack threatened, and Joker's line fell silent; wise move, he judged. Turning, he was just in time to hear EDI speak, "Reaper forces are approaching this system; nine capital ships, ten destroyers, four troop carriers, fifty-two Oculi. Evacuation of this system is recommended immediately."

"Inform Joker, EDI. Get us to the Citadel. I'll contact with Hackett. Everyone, dismissed," he turned to Keeling, "Keeling, show our guests to their temporary quarters."

And with that, he stepped out of the shuttle and headed straight for the shuttle. Another mission complete, but still nowhere close to victory.

 _The Illusive Man will make a mistake one day, and when that happens, I'll be at the door, waiting with a pistol._ Until then, he could only wait.

**"I heard Harbinger played a trick around about this time."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes, I got the reports on the Citadel of Illium being invaded by the Reapers. And because Liara's father was there, I had to go and help evacuation."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What you didn't realize, was that it was a trap."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Harbinger invaded an entire planet just to lure me. Still haunts me today."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**My final chapter for a long while; exams are coming. I've got a shitload of Maths homework to do this weekend, and then next week is study week for me, followed by the actual exams the week after. Then, the Sunday after I'm seeing Mockingjay Part 1 with some friends as a reward for surviving the exams. After that, my time'll probably be consumed by Halo: Master Chief Collection. I'll try to juggle my fanfiction inbetween that, but no guarantees. So yeah, no Holocaust for a while. Sorry guys. Should be back around after 5 December. HOPEFULLY.** _

_**Either way, laid back chapter next, then after that will be my own creation; the invasion of Illium and Harbinger's trap. Too much Cerberus? Well, time to give the Reapers some spotlight.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	18. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarquin tries to salvage his mission. The Illusive Man steps up pursuit of his defecting scientists, and tracks them to Noveria. A friend reaches out to Shepard for help. Liara receives alarming news from Illium.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**DESTINY**

_June 10, 2186_

_0929 hours._

_Lower Bar, Purgatory Night Club, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

He winced as he rotated his arm, testing it out to make sure it was fully operational after the battle at Grissom Academy the other day. His arm was still sore from the punishment it received at the edge of the phantom's katana, and his muscles were suffering from the after effects of the stasis field he had been cacooned in. Overall, his body had taken a beating, and he needed time to rest. Mordin was still synthesizing a cure for that genophage, so that wasn't currently an issue he needed to worry about and Tuchanka could wait.

Now he strode through Purgatory, somehow able to ignore the pulsing, obnoxious, high-pitched music in the background as he strode towards his destination. He rarely visited this place, largely because he preferred places like Dark Star or Flux; he seriously wasn't into night clubs, and that was because they involved money, strippers and the sleezy. The first was a waste, the second disgusted him, and the third made him cringe. There was only ever one reason for him visiting this place; a mission.

But now, as he strode towards a lone table at the back, he realized he wasn't visiting because of a mission this time, it was because of a person. That person was Jack, aka Subject Zero, one of the, if not  _the,_  most powerful biotic powerhouse in the galaxy. Originally a murderous, overly violent young woman prone to random bouts of anger and swearing, Jack had changed much from what she used to be; now she had kids to care for, and that changed her persona quite a bit.

As he looked around, he saw said kids around the lower dance floor and upper bar. Some of them were young boys oggling the asari and human strippers on the dance floor, some were enjoying private shows, whilst some of the girls drank to their hearts content. Kahlee was nowhere to be seen, and he gathered she had no interest in a place like this, just like him. Turning his focus back to the table he was approaching, he smiled as he realized his person of interest looked up at him, a grin on her face.

"Shepard!" Jack greeted, letting go of her half-finished glass of energy drink, "Have a seat, you old shit."

"Well, don't I feel welcome," he replied dryly as he took a seat opposite the teacher, "I'd say I'm surprised to find you here, but that'd be something moronic, wouldn't it? This is just your kind of place. I see not all of you has changed."

"Some parts have got to remain. Otherwise, being 'Jack' would mean jackshit," she snorted, "Didn't think you'd turn up, either. You know, with the war going on and everything. Thought you'd be too friggin busy."

He shrugged, "I've got some time on my hands. And there really isn't much I can do while the Normandy is being resupplied," he stated, shrugging, "So, for now, I'm stuck here, talking to you; its been a while Jack, and you've clearly been doing alot."

She sighed, taking another sip of her drink, "You don't know the half of it. I feel like I'm up to my fucking waist in the amount of paperwork I have to do, and those Alliance cunts aren't making it any easier. I have to look after these shits, make sure I don't piss off Kahlee, and do the same with the high-class pricks in the Alliance. And with Grissom Academy gone, me and my kids are effectively Alliance soldiers; never thought I'd take orders from anyone but you. Fuck me."

He smiled, "Now you know how I feel."

"It fucking sucks," she snorted, wiping her mouth, "Still, I feel like I've made progress, Shepard. I may still be the biotic bitch, but now I'm a biotic bitch with an allegiance; that's something, right? Maybe I'll get some credits kicked my way too," her smile dissipated slightly, taking a more serious outlook, "That is, if we survive this fucking war. I heard we lost Earth."

He sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed his stubble, "We haven't lost Earth yet, its just in the occupation phase," he met Jack's eyes, "Just like Palaven and Khar'Shan. Earth hasn't fallen, but the Reapers own it now; the unified resistance won't be enough to kick them offworld, which means its up to me to form an armada to counterattack and retake it. Hell, maybe it won't be necessary; by that point, the Crucible should be ready, we'll have found the Catalyst, and we can fire it. End the Reapers once and for all."

"Sounds like alot of fucking optimism and not alot of realism," Jack bluntly declared.

He glared at her across the table, "Yeah, well, do you want the facts? Fine, I'll be realistic; at the moment, it looks like we're fucked. The batarians lost Khar'Shan and we lost Earth in a matter of  _hours._ A day after that, and the turian homeworld comes under siege. Now the Reapers have likely taken Elysium, Cerberus has Omega, and the asari and salarians are terrified Thessia or Sur'Kesh will be next. Hell, the Citadel could be next. We don't know! The Reapers know they're winning, and they're taking their sweet-ass time. The only advantage we have is the Crucible, our unplayed card, and we can't even know for sure if it'll destroy the Reapers or if its a Reaper trap. We can barely kill  _one_ of them, the Alliance and Hegemony fleets are scattered, and the galaxy is refusing to unite, no matter what I do. You wanted realism, Jack? Well there you fucking go. There are the facts. So forgive me if I like the idea of hope."

There was silence for a few seconds between them, the pounding music notwithstanding. Suddenly, she chuckled, shaking her head, " _Wow,_ you really are a fucking pussy."

"I only said what you wanted to hear," he growled, "Have it my way, and I'd be talking about how much I know we'll win this. But that wouldn't be truthful. Somehow, I knew this was a lost cause to begin with. Like I knew the Reapers were always going to win, and I was only delaying the inevitable."  _Now you sound exactly like Saren. What the hell is wrong with you? Wake up!_

"Yeah, well hope is keeping us fighting, so I'm not going to fucking bark at it," she snarled back, taking another sip of her drink, "And I'm not going to think of my kids getting butchered by Reaper husks, I won't fucking have it."

"Then what was that shit about realism, then?" Marcus asked, confused.

"Wanted to hear what you really thought, not the bullshit you say to keep morale up," she solemnly said, "And maybe you're right, maybe the galaxy's fucked. But I'd rather fight on my feet then die on my knees."

He seemed to ponder that for a second and he finally nodded, "Thanks, I needed that Jack."

"No problem, just don't expect it from me often," she jested, smirking, "I don't do that psych shit. I warp minds, not coddle them," she seemed to finally take notice of his lack of a drink and motioned to the upstairs bar, "And what the fuck is that? Nothing to drink? Get off your ass and get a drink Shepard; you look like you could use one, you fucking pussy."

"Is it possible that you can say a sentence without swearing?" he asked, incredulous at her ability to do just that.

"Fuck yes," she responded. Realizing what she said, she halted, thought about it, and then shook her head, "No. Just go get a fucking drink, you old shithead."

His grin remained present as he stood up from his seat, pushing it back as he mounted the steps behind him and took them up to the bar above. The stairs were oddly slopped, giving it a steep feel as he walked up to the top. In hindsight, he really should have just gone to the lower bar; it had been closer, but he found himself going up here and he knew going back down now would be pointless. Besides, Jack would use it as a reason to insult him further, and God knows she had enough of those.

The upper bar was heavily populated; the dance floor pulsed with intense light, dancers of many species entertaining their viewers at their tables, all of them occupied to the last seat, watching intensely or drunkenly talking to each other. Marcus ignored all of them as he headed to the bar, approaching one of the salarian bartenders currently tending it. The salarian almost immediately smiled at him, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Something light. Obviously levo, but not too alcoholic. I intend on leaving with all my motory functions intact," he lightly quipped.

The bartender smiled, nodding, "I know just the thing," he turned to the left, "Uela, stop dancing and fetch this man a drink. Levo, not too potent."

He followed the salarian's vision and saw an asari bartender, originally dancing, stop as she nodded and moved over to behind the bar, but if her exaggerated movements gave away her annoyance, the salarian either ignored or didn't notice it. The bartender turned towards him, smiling, "You should have your drink in a moment."

He moved to mouth the word 'thanks' when he heard someone land on a stool next to him, and he turned to see it was one of the students he rescued from Grissom Academy. She was nineteen, brunette in hair color, with cool blue eyes, freckled cheeks and a medium sized bust. She was still wearing her academic uniform from when she was rescued back on Grissom Academy, and she seemed to be slightly out of her league; she had a large, lopsided grin on her face. She looked at him, smiling, "Captain Shepard! I want to thank again for what you did for us back at the Academy. I thought we were dead!" she turned to the bartender, "I'll have what he's having!"

At this point, the asari had arrived with his drink and Marcus gave her a kind nod, thanking her before the asari was whisked off to get what the girl wanted. She turned to him, smiling with that ridiculous smirk. He grimaced internally, but outside he kept an air of calm, confused at what exactly she wanted from him.  _Why does she seem so intent on getting this close?_ He sniffed, picking up a peculiar smell.  _Is that...? Is that perfume?_

Turning her back to the bar, she leaned against it, splaying her elbows across the tabletop as she looked at him, "Sooooo...what are you getting up to? Can't be much to do right now, given how you just saved us."

"Talking with your teacher," he replied, sipping his drink, aleady thinking of ways to get out of this, "Adult things. You should go have fun."

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, "Maybe I will have fun, but maybe I'd like to spend it here." Her drunken state had rendered her conscious thought non-existent, and it was clear she wasn't thinking through what she was saying. Suffice to say, it was blatantly obvious to Marcus that the teenager was trying to seduce him, not realizing the age difference between them. He had to put a stop to this.

Before he could say anything, the asari arrived back with her drink, and she took it, sipping at it as she held her hand out, "I'm..." she hiccuped, "My name is Shannon. I'd ask for yours, but I already know!" she hiccuped again, holding a hand over her mouth before continuing, sipping more of her drink, "And I think you look awfully lonely sitting here! So why not have some fun!"

"Look, Shannon, I'm not really sure what you're trying to achieve here, but I'm not-" he tried to get in, but the girl was quick to cut him off, presumptiously placing a finger over his mouth.

"You. Are. A. Dolt. But that doesn't matter!" she giggled like a schoolgirl, which wasn't far from the truth, and she grinned, "And what I want is simple! I want to have sex with you! That simple!"

He sighed, rubbing his temples, "I  _know_ what you want, and I'm saying  _no._ Not only am I married and not interested, you are way younger than I am and it wouldn't be right. You need to focus your attention on people your age."

"But I don't want-"

"Shannon," came a familiar voice, "You better have a good explanation for this."

The girl whirled around, Marcus smiling slightly as he took another sip of his drink. Shannon seemed to stutter for words, before rubbing the back of her neck, "Explain what, Miss? I only-"

"Don't lie to me," she replied, "Now go and join your friends; hell, get a boyfriend. Shepard's way out of your league, so you might as well just give up."

Shannon's cheeks flared red, and she crossed her arms, indignant, "I am not a child! I'm not going to be coddled! I am of legal ag-"

"The man is married...happily, I'll assure you," she came into view, her menacing form standing over him, "So go back to the others now before I kick your ass, Shannon. I'm not going to ask again."

She stuttered, turning to Marcus to help her. He merely shrugged, ignoring her look as he took another sip of his ice cold drink, only now realizing the ice that was in it and was currently bumping against his lips, numbing them. With a final huff, she turned on the spot and rushed off to join her comrades, her place quickly filled by Jack, shaking her head as she took a familiar position to Marcus'.

"Don't mind Shannon. She's drunk," the teacher reassured, "She'll get over it in the morning and wonder what she was even doing."

"I hope so. You're leaving in the morning," he informed her, and the ex-convict turned towards her, eyebrows raised.

"Oh fucking really?" she asked, "Where to?"

"I've contacted Hackett and he's sending a stealth shuttle to come pick you up at 0800, on the dot," he stated, "You'll be taken to UGC HQ where they are building the Crucible. I couldn't take you directly there for security reasons; the Reapers don't even know where it is, and we need to keep it that way if its going to be finished; it also happens to be where our fleets and armies are stationed. From there, you'll be posted under Hackett's command and you'll find out what he wants to do with you."

"Guess we got that shit sorted out," she remarked, shaking her head, "For a second, I thought we'd be bouncing from planet to fucking planet, blowing up shit as we went along. Glad to know we're actually going to have a purpose."

"Your kids will get what they want Jack; to be useful," he reassured her as he turned from his half-finished beverage, "I know what its like to feel helpless, and I won't put you or them through that. Although I'm going to miss having you onboard; Kasumi and Garrus are there, and I know you'd get along with Wrex just fine."

Jack snorted, sighing through her nostrils, "You couldn't get me back onboard if Zaeed was there," she exhaled, taking Shannon's abandon drink and practically skulking half of it before dumping it back on the table top with a disgusted look, "This shit is fucking tame, Shepard. You are such a pussy."

"I don't even care at this point," Marcus replied lightly before turning towards her, eyes inqusitive, "Are you happy, Jack?"

She frowned at him, "What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"Do those kids make you happy?" he asked again, "You seem very protective of them, and I've never seen you like that before. Its...good, to see you like that. Last time I saw someone as protective as that was Tali, and she was looking after  _me_. One person. Not multiple kids of varying age."

"Yeah...yeah, I care about 'em," she admitted, seeming suddenly shy, something uncommon with Jack, "They're like the kids I never had. Some of them are little shits, and the others are little perfectionists, but I love them all the same," she fixed him with a more determined gaze this time, "Doesn't mean I've gone soft though, so you can get that out of your thick skull. I can still rip your head off at a hundred meters if I wanted."

"Of that, I have no doubt. The Reapers and Cerberus should be terrified," at that, he froze, suddenly considering his words, "Jack, about Cerberus...are you still considering going after-"

"No," she immediately stated. Noting his gesture for her to continue, she sighed, "That feels like a long time ago, Shepard. Fuck, I don't even know if I still hate the Illusive Man that much. Sure, I fucking hate Cerberus for what they did to me, but all I can do is stop them from doing that to my kids, and that's all that matters. For all intents and purposes...I've moved on."

He nodded, "That's...new, Jack."  _A hatred extinguished in one, hatred born in another._ Where Jack had given up killing the Illusive Man and destroying Cerberus, Marcus had renewed his original hatred for the organization from three years ago, and now he would stop at nothing to see him and Harbinger burn as the Crucible fired.  _And then there's Kai Leng. I'll rip that motherfucker apart the next time we meet. I'll beat him into a pulp for what he did to Shala. Sadistic, racist, piece of filth._

"Yeah, you'll get over it though. I'm not as murderous as I once was," she smirked, "Hell, I just managed to pronounce a sentence without a single curse. That's progress, right?"

He laughed, "Yes, yes it is."

"Yeah..." she grinned, "Fuck you."

"And I thought we were getting somewhere."

"You can sincerely go fuck yourself, Shepard."

"Hey, that's my line. Just add Vakarian, and you've got plagiarism."

"Couldn't give two shits," she quipped, finishing off Shannon's pathetic drink in a single gulp. After a moment, her eyes landed on the dance floor, where a couple of her students had gotten up and started to dance erratically, bodies moving to the beat almost hypnotically. The way one girl danced brought up memories of Tali's dancing; body flowing like water, hips swinging from side to side like a form of hypnosis.

She grinned, turning back towards him as she stood up, "You know what, fuck it, I don't care. I'm going to dance, and you're going to join in."

His eyes widened as he remained seated. He raised an eyebrow incredulously, "Didn't you just-? Jack, I'm mar-"

"I said dance," she growled, "Not suck your dick."

Ignoring her vulgar language, he shook his head, insistent, "I don't dance. I suck at it."

"You didn't it at your wedding."

He glared at her, "That was a wedding. I had no choice, and the wife was insistent."

"And now I'm going to insist," she growled, "Get off your ass, Shepard! The war isn't going anywhere! A few minutes of dancing won't lead to our doom."

He reluctantly nodded, pulling himself from his stool and moving over to the dance floor like a prisoner to the execution block. The ex-convict had already dove into the crowd, shouting at her students to move aside, "Get the fuck out of the way! Captain Shepard is here, and he's going to show you how it's done!"

He stopped, glaring, "You conniving-"

"Shut up and move up!" Jack ordered, beginning to move to the beat of the music, "It's time to have some fucking fun, how about it,  _huh!?_ "

The kids cheered, and Marcus couldn't help but smile at the gesture as he began to awkwardly shift his feet from side to side, trying not to embarass himself too badly. The kids danced around their teacher, who moved from side to side, dancing heavily with no grace, but with more intent and force. And as much as he cringed at the laughs sent his way, he felt calm. Besides, he could only look at the bright side.

At least he wasn't being shot at.

**{Loading...}**

_June 16, 2186_

_0434 hours._

_Abandoned Underground Parking Lot, Trisek'lok City Ruins, Tor'an Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_First Lieutenant Tarquin Victus._

He fell against the wall, sliding to the ground as he let out a wave of air from his lungs, trying not to inhale too much of the dust in the air, a massive plume of it having been sent up in a cloud as he hit the ground. The world could go to hell as far as he was concerned, the turian reaching into his armor's nearest pouch and pulling out a tube of nutrient paste, bringing it up to his mandibles and popping the protective seal, bringing it to his mouth and crushing it, the paste shooting into his mouth as he began to slosh it around in his mouth. It wasn't the best taste, but considering what he had just been through, it was heaven as far as he was concerned, spirits damn the taste.

As he munched on his rationed food, he looked up and took a long look at the men before him. The platoon of black watch turian special forces troopers were still holding strong, as were the fireteam of Cabals that had joined them, but all of them were a little torn up and a few carried new scars; they had barely escaped the Reaper ambush alive. Every single one of them was exhausted, and the Cabals had almost completely extinguished their biotics.

Tarquin had to be honest, he didn't think he was going to get out alive. When the Reaper husks had surrounded himself and his platoon, he thought they would be mauled to death, their mission left incomplete. But they had managed it; they had escaped, if narrowly. Truius found an exit under a pile of rubble and had waved them over to it, and Tarquin had wasted on time in rallying his men and following the turian through the exit, the Cabals blocking the exit with rubble. They escaped Vanguard, and escaped its minions. However, they knew they would catch up sooner or later, and they needed to reach that bomb and disarm it. Vanguard was a problem they'd find a solution for.

And now, here they were, hiding like frightened rats.  _We are turian, and we're cowering away. I wonder what father would think of me right now, just hiding here._ The outlook didn't seem very pleasant, and he shook the thought away, trying to get rid of the image of his disapproving father's face.  _You are turian, and I must be strong. Victory at any cost._

His platoon wasn't down for the count; if anything, they were ready to move again. Their medic had taken care of any cuts or scratches, and the Cabals had simply pulled out their canteens, full of energy drink, and chugged them, replenishing their strength almost immediately; biotics needed to consume alot of energy, and ate a hell of a lot more food then others did, making them a strain on resources, but a powerful asset on the battlefield.

Truius came into view, covered in dust as he holstered his Incisor sniper rifle and quickly closed the distance between himself and Tarquin. He knew a confrontation was about to occur, despite turian consequences regarding insubordination, and he stood to his full height, suddenly ignoring his empty tube of paste as it slipped from his talons and hit the ground, eyes narrowing.

Truius came to stand a meter away from him, "I just got a look at the terrain out there, and it doesn't look good. The spirits are not smiling on us today, Lieutenant Victus, sir," he said the last bit with a hint of disdain, "Reaper forces are crawling all over the place; everything from husks to marauders and brutes, and they even have those damn harvesters in the air. Vanguard is nowhere to be seen, so we should consider ourselves lucky it left as quickly as it did," he pointed an accusing finger at Tarquin, "This situation is completely fucked, and it is  _all_ because of  _you_!"

Tarquin was having none of it as he stepped forward, swatting the man's hand away as the entire platoon turned to watch the encounter, "We had a mission, and we knew the risks going in. We-"

"Bullshit! You know that's not why we're here!" Truius roared, coming inches from his face, "We are here because you tried to play daddy and played the tactician. Well you  _failed!_ You brought us directly within Vanguard's sights and we were a sitting duck! Now we've lost our corvette, we're completely marooned, surrounded by the enemy, and we are a single platoon! And we haven't even completed our mission! You fucked it up! This entire operation is  _fucked_!"

"We will continue to the bomb site," Tarquin growled, "We will find it, unearth it and disarm it. Once we have done that, we will head for the nearest krogan settlement and wait until a Hierarchy ship has come to pick us up; if they get suspicious, we'll simply tell them we were on a patrol when a Reaper shot us down."

"Fuck the bomb! I'm not dying for a few thousand krogan!" Truius spat, "I joined this platoon to protect  _turian_ lives, not preserve  _krogan_ lives! As far as I'm concerned,  _let the bomb go off._ We don't owe them our lives! What we should be doing is fighting back on Palaven! That's what matters!"

"You short-sighted fool!" Tarquin roared, spinning to face the platoon, "Is this the example you want to follow? This moron would have us dying on Palaven, and achieving nothing! Do you think you'll go out in a blaze of glory? Do you think you'll help us win the war? The Reapers would have extinguished you without effort! There would be no glorious sacrifice, and you would be forgotten! What we're doing here will save the galaxy! Stopping this bomb will allow our alliance with the krogan to grow, and provide valuable shock troopers to Palaven to help save it! But this idiot," he pointed to Truius, "Would have us turn tail and die on our homeworld, unnamed and unremembered. Our victory here could mean the victory of the entire war. And the blossoming of the UGC."

Everyone was silent, contemplating his words. Not a single soldier spoke a word, either looking to each other or silently pondering. Truius still fumed, his position clearly decided, but it was the platoon's whose support he needed; Truius' loyalty was inconsequential. He could only wait.

Finally, one of his men spoke, "If this alliance will save Palaven, then so be it. I will give my life to eliminate this bomb."

The cabal next to him nodded, flexing her mandibles, "Agreed. For the Hierarchy. For Palaven."

"For the Council," another said.

"For galactic preservation!"

One by one, his entire platoon fell in line, shouting their encouragement and agreement. Tarquin nodded, shouting along with them in typical turian fashion, glancing in Truius' direction. The turian seemed to visibly calm at the growing platoon's support, either falling in line or simply giving up on becoming a vocal majority. Eventually, he noticed Tarquin's look, meeting it with his own eyes. He gave a brief nod, showing his support as he brought his weapon to bare, ready to move in an instant. Turian blood ran in his veins, and he wasn't completely unsubordinate.

Tarquin raised his hands, ordering for silence. Everyone quieted down almost instantly, entering stoic positions. He turned to them, hands behind his back as he spoke, "Look, I know we've lost alot coming this far. We've lost a corvette and most of her crew went with her. We're stranded and we're battered, but we are turian. Men of the First Platoon. We  _must_ continue the fight. We must not give in to exhaustion, and we must muster the courage to proceed. We have a mission, and we must not waver. The goal is at hand, we must only advance and obtain it," he stopped, sadness covering his features. He rounded on them, gulping heavily, "My terrible maneveuring got many men killed. For COs, it would result in harsh punishment. For a son of the Primarch...it means execution. I am aware of this, and I will bare the full weight of my punishment when we get home.  _If_ we get home. Either way, they will know you had no part in my incompetent command," he breathed, pointing to the area above them as a loud boom was heard above, "The Reapers swarm above us. We must deny them victory; let them know that Palaven continues to spite them even while under occupation. Let the Reapers know we fight on," he retrieved his phaeston from his back, turning to an entrance at the back as he put his helmet back on, "First Platoon...MOVE OUT! FOR PALAVEN!"

"FOR PALAVEN!" The platoon shouted in unison, and as one force they moved forward, Truius taking up the back with the Cabals, while Tarquin took up the front with his Black Watch troopers. He rushed up the enbankment at the end, kicking up dust as he lifted himself over the ruined wreckage of an overly large skycar, and up onto a fallen slab of cracked concrete. He moved up the steep rubble, using every jutting piece as a grapple as he pulled himself up, his platoon not far behind. Pretty soon, they found themselves confronted with the twilight sky of Tuchanka; night had still fallen upon the planet, and Aralakh had not yet unleashed its powerful rays.

He came down into a prone position, placing the butt of his automatic rifle against his shoulder as he scanned the area around him. The husks of monolithic krogan skyscrapers towered over them, placing judgment upon the trespassers. He was on a ruined part of the street, the dried out corpse of a varren nearby, followed by a few others; recent kills. He scanned the street, looking for hostiles.

His eyes widened as he raised a hand for his men to go prone and stay put. Ahead and moving across the street was a herd; a brute prowled forward, massive arms propelling its gigantic form and tiny head across the field. An alpha varren stupidly charged at it, and the gargantuan beast barely growled as it slammed a massive fist across its body, tossing it away like a rag doll and splitting its belly, its intestines spilling out and slopping across the ground. Barely fazed, the brute continued its mindless patrol.

But it wasn't alone. Behind it were dozens of husks, their human heads swinging back and forth, looking for victims to maul. Cannibals flanked their sides, arms perputually raised in preparation to fire their lethal, Reaper-grafted rifles. The occassional marauder also lead them, its phaeston gripped hard, and body seeming to sense the turians in its presence, but never acting on it, always turning away to continue moving. A harvester flew over, screeching as it did.

They stayed silent and let the Reaper force merely pass them by, the enemy in question not knowing they were there. After a few minutes, they watched the final cannibal disappear behind a corner before he stood in a crouch, motioning the platoon to move forward, taking point. He rushed across the dusty ground, careful to not trip over anything in the darkness. However, he suddenly stopped when he felt the ground shake.

He froze in place. That had been unnaturally close.  _Uncomfortably close._ He gulped as his platoon sensed it as well. It had only lasted a second, and they could hear the sound of crashing debris in the background. He turned to Truius, whispering in his comm, "When I say so, head for cover." The location of the bomb was on their HUDs and marked as a NavPoint: it was currently three klicks north west.

They heard another crash, simultaneously followed by the ground shaking more violently. Vanguard was most definitely headed this way. But something wasn't right about the rhythm about the ground tremors; they were too constant, far too varied. Vanguard would have to sprinting to make these tremors. No, this  _had_ to be something else. He gulped.

Something else. What made constant tremor sounds and shook one to the core? Suddenly, the blood in his face drained.

He whirled to his team as the sound grew closer, " _Cover_!  _NOW!_ "

They only whirled, following him to cover; there was a piece of concrete lying ontop of a crushed skycar nearby and they all dived behind the massive vehicle, Tarquin the last one in as he held his helmet in prayer.  _Please, it can't end like this. Of all the things..._

"Are you sure its a Maw?" Truius asked, seeming to know what he knew, "Are you sure that's a Thresher Maw out there? You know they never leave the wastelands; they can't break through concrete.  _That can't_ be a thresher maw."

 _Well it is. And its headed our way._ He moved to mouth words, but suddenly the sound stopped. Gulping in fear, he turned the corner, waiting for what happened next.

In a thunderous cacophony of sound and crunching, a skycraper across the street exploded as the massive form of a thresher maw exploded through it, screeching as it send the building flying apart like nothing. Tarquin's eyes widened at the sight. This Thresher Maw was a freak of nature; they never reached the size of this beast, and almost  _never_ had the ability to break through concrete without killing themselves. While most maws were the size of three kodiak shuttles, this monstrosity was the size of a turian  _light cruiser,_ or even longer. It was definitely over a kilometer in length, its body was blacker than a maw and its body seemed to be unbelievably tough. Its head was just like a maw though, proving his point that it was definitely a Thresher Maw, but not the ordinary kind. What was this beast?

Suddenly, it came to him. His jaw gaped open.  _It can't be...she's just a myth..._

The beast continued to screech as it burst through the ground and continued to dive into it. They could only watch as it seemed to take forever for the racing monster to get into the ground, but when it finally did, it crushed a piece of concrete behind it as its behind slapped the ground upon entering the ground, leaving a massive hole in the middle of the street. The tremors continued but, thankfully, they became alot less thunderous this time, and became more distant. Sure that the danger had passed, everyone relaxed, but Truius noticed Tarquin's surprise.

"You look like you know something," Truius asked in wonderment, still awed by the size of the creature, "That maw was a  _freak._ It was  _gigantic._  And I have a feeling you know what it was."

Tarquin could only meet the man's eyes, nodding.

"That...it's just a myth.  _She's_ just a myth. But...we saw it..."

"What?" Truius asked again, "Sir, what was that damn thing?"

He shivered, looking back to the hole.

"Kalros," he stated simply, "The Mother of all Thresher Maws."

**{Loading...}**

_June 10, 2186_

_1521 hours._

_'Humanity's Sanctum,' Upper Levels, Cronos Station, Anadius System._

_The Reaper War._

_The Illusive Man, First Lieutenant Geoff Dielheart, Operative Kai Leng._

Smoke trailed from his cigar as he impatiently tore it from his lips, uncharacteristically dumping it in the ash tray next to him as he sat up, not even turning to look at the two behind him, "Are you telling me that two of our operations have failed in the space of two days? Two?"

Geoff gulped, nodding as he checked his datapad, "Operation: Rogue was not a success sir. Shepard was there and managed to extract the students from us and destroyed the Hannibal in the process. As for Operation: Dexterity..."

"Leng bares the blame for that failure," he rubbed his temples, shaking his head.

"Shepard was also there," Leng defended, "He managed to get ahold of the females before I could. I attempted to fix that by pushing the assault, but Shepard and his band of scum managed to push us back and I was forced to retreat."

"All I hear is excuses, Leng," TIM replied, gripping the seat as the muscles in his hands flexed, "You said you could take care of Shepard, and yet here you are, with no dead krogan to show for it. Instead, you make up excuses so you can ignore your failure because you refuse to admit you were beaten by aliens. And salarians, at that."

"It will not happen again," he heard Leng hiss, the assassin obviously not happy at the insult. TIM simply shrugged it off, not caring for the man's opinion. He was a tool, an asset to be used and disposed of. His feelings were inconsequential.

"No, you won't," TIM calmly replied, taking a sip of his whiskey, "Until I require further use of you, I'm putting you on the sidelines until Operation: Polar Fire when I need you to lead the ground forces. Until then, you are dismissed," he ordered, and he heard Leng's footsteps clang against the floor as he left, the steps eventually dumbing down to nothing as he disappeared. Confident, he was gone, he addressed Geoff once more.

"How comes Operation: Deathstroke?" TIM quiered, sniffing as he prepared a fresh cigar after crushing his other one, lighting it, "I assume all resources are still being pooled."

"The Fourth Fleet is ready and on standby, sir," Geoff detailed, "The flagship, CAW Kenya, has been fitted with the thanix cannon, as you ordered sir, and the invasion forces are being evaluated as we speak. Sir, are you sure you want Leng in charge sir? And should we get in contact with our agents there?"

"Yes. Tell them to begin background checks on security and any vantage points are to be reported back to me before being relayed to Fleet Admiral Terrence. I want to know everything he knows before he knows it," TIM declared, "This operation is to go off without a hitch, you understand me? This mission cannot fail. Get in contact with our main operative, tell him to start digging, ask some questions. He's the most powerful person there, and his information will be critical. If we're going to beat the Reapers, we need this operation to succeed. I hope you understand this, Lieutenant. Deathstroke must succeed."

"Yes sir," Geoff declared.

"I've poured millions of credits into this. Every military cell we have is in on it," TIM rehashed, "If we fail, then it'll be one more victory for the Reapers."

"Yes sir," Geoff repeated.

"Excellent," he replied, sighing as he rubbed his temples, "What do our agents on the Citadel have to say? The ones tracking Shepard's movement."

"He recently visited Purgatory to speak with Subject Zero and then recently left for Huerta Memorial Hospital. I believe his intention was to speak with Major Alenko, who we are also monitoring," Geoff informed him.

"Good," TIM stated cooly.  _You are becoming a real problem, Shepard. That's thrice now you've disrupted my operations, and it is becoming quite tiresome. You would want to destroy a valuable resource instead of obtaining it, and you're pathetic short-sightedness will be the doom of us all. Cerberus will continue to protect this galaxy, even if you continue to get in the way of that._ He remembered what Shepard had said about him being indoctrinated.  _That is not true. I'm in full control,_ _ **he**_ _is the one who is indoctrinated._

And if he continues to get in his way, then he would be destroyed. _Do not get in my way again, Shepard. Or you will pay the price._

"Is there anything else sir?" he asked.

"Yes," he began, calmly thinking about his next order. Quite certain what he wanted, he turned his head slightly as he spoke, smoke wafting from his mouth and nose as he removed his cig and exhaled, "Has there been anything new from Port Hanshan?"

"The scientists under Cole have remained situated in the main port, sir," Geoff informed him, "Our agents are keeping them boxed in until the Third Fleet can be scrambled sir and a fighting force arranged, but they don't know how long it'll take until they get suspicious. Someone's going to come looking eventually."

"I am aware of that," TIM stated, rolling his eyes, "Which is why I've had to speed up operations a bit. I want that port to have fallen before the end of the month."

Even from his seated position, back turned to him, TIM could sense the man's eyes widen, "Sir, the war is making it very difficult to traverse sir. With the Reapers so close to us, it is getting increasingly more difficult for us to get ships here undetected. Getting the forces mobilized and to have succeeded in taking the port in a month is stretching it alittle sir."

"Kai Leng will be with them when the time comes. I want to make sure every single one of those scientists is dead. None alive, and no bodies," He ordered, "And I don't care how long it takes, as long as its done. There is simply no more room for failure. The UGC won't react this time, and we'll have secured a base of operations in place of the loss of Eden Prime. We will have gained two things for the price of one. Make sure it is done, Geoff."

"Yes sir," a moment later, he spoke again, "Its done sir. Leng, Fleet Admiral Tiberius and the commander of the division have been informed."

"Good. Tell them to tear apart the entire port if need be, but make sure every one of those scientists is dead. They are resource we cannot allow the UGC to utilize," he sighed, leaning back as he took another sip of his ice cold beverage, "As soon as their forces are mobilized, attack immediately. If he feels the need, even bomb it from orbit. Less effective, but hopefully it'll get the job done. If there is nothing else, you are dismissed."

Geoff gave a brief bow as he turned to leave, "Yes sir." And with that, Geoff left, leaving the room in a hurry. He had noticed how possessed the Illusive Man had become in trying to stop Shepard, and he whole-heartedly approved. The man was beginning to become a pain in the ass, and the more trouble he caused for Cerberus, the more shit was being flung at Geoff. He was so busy these days he rarely saw his wife, Josephine, or his son, Carter. Seriously, couldn't he catch a break? But no, he had to file reports and bare the brunt of the Illusive Man's wrath as he became angered when an operation failed due to Shepard. Mars had been bad enough, but now they had lost Eden Prime, lost their chance to obtain more recruits for the dragoons on Grissom Academy, failed to stop them from acquiring the female krogan on Sur'Kesh, and now he wanted them to prepare two fleets to invade two seperate areas! The Illusive Man was placing massive strain on their forces, and it was all Shepard's fault.

_Can't that ignorant fool see what we're doing for humanity? Can't he see this is what's best? The man will be the end of the galaxy. Cerberus is defending it, and Shepard is tearing apart our efforts. Sooner or later, he's going to have to die._

As he walked down the steps to the lower levels, Geoff snorted.  _If he dies, so be it. He's been nothing but trouble since Lazarus brought him back. Hell, the main reason I'm even his second-in-command now was because his last one defected to Shepard's cause._

But soon Shepard would realize the extent of the Illusive Man's fury, and when he did, Cerberus would crush him. Afterall...

...it was for the good of the galaxy.

**{Loading...}**

_June 10, 2186_

_1557 hours._

_Medical Room H6, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

He pushed through the throng of the crowd, one goal in his mind.  _God, I feel like an asshole for not doing this sooner. Man's in hospital, and I barely come and see him? Total dick._ Yet again, he had been extremely busy lately, and coupled with saying goodbye to Jack, he hadn't really had much time to do anything else. But now he had the time, and he was going to use it wisely.

An asari doctor rushed past him, followed by a turian as they rushed a patient passed on a wheelchair, the patient in question being a turian with his left leg severed below the knee and knocked out, a large white set of bandages wrapped around the stump and stained with blue blood. He moved out of their way, wondering if it was really a grand idea to rush into a busy hospital.  _Maybe this wasn't such a great idea..._

He watched a door nearby open, and the familiar form of Lia walked out, turning to her colleagues to shout out orders. Keying her omni-tool, she rushed over to an injured batarian, muttering reassurances as she began to apply a sedative. Behind her, two human doctors appeared and began helping her as they prepared to move the man into surgery. Deciding not to distract her, he rejected the urge to call out to her and continued to his destination.

Kaidan's room lay on the right and he immediately moved up to it, tapping the green interface, having already acquired permission to talk with him from his doctor. He could feel a presence behind him, and he smiled as he knew Thane was shadowing him, living up to his promise of protecting Kaidan.  _I knew he'd keep his word. He always does, poor guy._ He couldn't imagine what dying of a lack of oxygen was like, but knew it must suck.

As he stepped inside, he was surprised to see his view of Kaidan's bedside was blocked by Udina, who stood there, obviously speaking with the marine, his prestine suit adorning his torso along with the usual black pants that came with it.

He managed to catch the last snippet of their conversation, "-so in retrospect, your service would be invaluable. I need an answer now, Major. The galaxy is in need of exceptional soldiers like you.  _Now_ more than ever."

"You'll have my answer soon, Councilor," he heard Kaidan reply, voice alittle more raspy than normal, "I promise. I just...I need to think. Its a huge commitment, and I don't want to jump straight in. Thank you for your patience."

Udina nodded, apparently finished as he prepared to turn around, "My patience has limits, Major, remember. You cannot keep thinking forever. Soon, you'll have to make a choice, and if you're smart, you'll make the right one. I'll be in my office," he turned and prepared to leave, but bumped into the captain, giving him a weak smile, "Captain."

Marcus gave an equally weak one in return, "Councilor."

Udina's smile dropped and he quickly left, the door shutting behind him. Marcus simply shook his head as he walked over to Kaidan, grabbing a stool to sit next to him. The man practically looked the same as he did when he last saw him; his chest was bare, the rest covered underneath white sheets, and he had black, ugly bruises all over his face, most prominently being his left eye. He still looked shit, but at least this time, he was awake.

"Asshole," he heard Kaidan mutter, and he couldn't help a chuckle. The major turned to him, raising an eyebrow, "What are you laughing at? You know it's true."

"Of course I do. He's a politician, remember? Comes with the job," he sighed as he sunk into the seat next to the marine, grinning, "But just what was he here for? He seemed rather determined to get an answer from you."

Kaidan seemed to hold still for a second, sinking back into his pillow, "Yes, he's very determined. And I don't know if I want to say yes or not."

"Say yes to what?" Marcus asked, all the more curious, "What did he want, Kaidan?"

He sighed, exhaling as he glanced at Marcus. Seeing his waiting eyes he sighed again, turning to look back at the ceiling as he closed his eyes, reopening them as he spoke, "He managed to convince the Council to agree on it, but its pretty obvious they've been thinking about it for awhile. They want a second human spectre Shepard, and Udina wants that to be  _me._ "

He widened his eyes in shock, before bursting into a chuckle, slapping the man's shoulder in appreciation, "Holy shit! Kaidan Alenko, Second Human Spectre! Should have known you'd want to one up me at one point."

Kaidan looked incredulous, shaking his head as he grinned, "I haven't even said yes yet! Besides, we can't have you stay as the first and  _only_ human spectre, can we?" he let out an intake of air, suddenly giddy, "I just...don't know if I should accept. I don't know if I'm ready to take that kind of responsibility. To work above the law, defensive arm of the Council. It seems like alot of work."

He nodded, "Well, it was made out to be alot more fun in the vids, I'll give you that," he shook his head, smiling warmly, "But I'm proud of you, Kaidan. If anyone deserves that candidacy, you do. You're one hell of a soldier, and you've  _earned_ your rank. Consider becoming a Spectre a...promotion."

He snorted, "It's one hell of a promotion, I'll give you that," he relaxed, folding his hands ontop of his chest, "But I'm not going to reach a decision anytime soon, and you're here to talk, so let's not talk about the spectres. What has the crew been up to, Shepard? What have I missed?"

"Alot, unfortunately, Kaidan," he smiled solemnly, "After you were rendered comatose, we brought you here and then I went straight to work. The Council refused to lend us their help in building the superweapon, so I've been working with the crew to find ways to ascertain their support individually."

"So wait, the superweapon works?" Kaidan asked, breathing out in relief at Marcus' nod, "Yes. So much yes. That weapon could be our only hope."

He nodded again, "It's called the Crucible, and we're building it as we speak. Anyway, we've done alot since you were here, and I'm going to give you the short version: we went to Menae, Palaven's moon, got the Primarch and now we're negoitating a turian-krogan alliance," he saw Kaidan's eyes widen and he nodded, laughing, "Yeah, I know, it's been a bitch. Anyway, we found Garrus on Menae and he joined us. Then there was the War Summit and Wrex is back on the crew, if only a for a bit; he wants the genophage to be cured in exchange for krogan support."

"The genophage cured?" Kaidan asked, almost exclaiming, whistling in impression, "Holy shit, you're playing with fire, Shepard. The salarians are probably furious, right?"

"Just their one of their dalatrasi," he grinned, "Anyway, we managed to reach Sur'Kesh to extract females immune to the genophage, but Cerberus attacked, and only one survived. But we rescued here, despite Cerberus' efforts," he sighed, "After that, it's been back and forth. I just said goodbye to Jack; she's become a teacher at Grissom Academy, and I had to go rescue her and her students. They're going to the Crucible operation now."

"That's great news," Kaidan said with melancholy, "Pity I couldn't be there for all of it, being stuck in this bed. Lia's looked after me, and Thane is apparently keeping watch over me, but it's extremely boring here. I'm a soldier, and I'm stuck here."

"Well, I'll say it plain Alenko," he exhaled, shaking his head as he punched the man's arm lightly, "You look like shit, all the bruises on your face aren't attracting the ladies."

For some reason, the Major sighed happily at that. Marcus frowned, confused by his reaction. He noticed his captain's reaction, frowning just as much as he turned to look at him, "What?"

"You just sighed, like you were happy or something," he smirked, "Something I should know about? You know I won't judge you."

Kaidan sighed, shrugging as he shifted his body weight to face Marcus, "It's...its Rahna, Shepard. Don't ask me how, but she found out I was here and came and visited me. We...had an interesting talk, and it may have slightly escalated a bit. I...I kissed her, Shepard. And she welcomed it. She...she wants us to be more than just friends," he frowned, "Being a Spectre might complicate that."

"Do you love her, Alenko?" he asked simply, "Do you want to be with her?"

"Hell yes I do," he replied, "I loved her all those years ago, and I still love her now. I just don't know if I should choose between my duty to the Alliance and the Council, or if I just choose to be with her."

"Kaidan, if there is one mistake to never make in life, its this," he laid out to the marine, shaking his head, gripping the man's shoulder as he looked him fully in the eyes, "If Rahna loves you, and you love her, then be with her, that doesn't mean being a Spectre will change that. You can still be with her, hell, form your own squad with her, if that's what you want," he grinned, "She'd even fit right in on the Normandy."

He smiled, chuckling lightly to himself, "Heh...maybe you're right. Thanks Shepard. I'll think about that," with a sigh, he pulled away, turning back to look at Marcus, "So, any reason you came down here or was it to just check on me?"

"For the first time, it was just to check on you," he laughed, slapping his thigh, "I just wanted to know what you were getting up to. It's been a while since I last checked up on you, and the past week has been quite hectic."

Kaidan nodded with a weary smile, scratching an itch on his neck, "Yeah, it sounds like it. As for me, well, I've been as good as one can be being locked up in here. Doctors say I'm making progress, and they think I should be able to move around within the next few days, but they just want to run a few tests first. After that, I guess it's all just hope, really. These bruises though," he motioned to his blackened upper face, "Will take some time to wear off. So for now, I'm not very pretty to look at."

"You're giving me nightmares, Kaidan," Marcus jested, shaking his head, "Well, I'm glad to see you're recovering. This war isn't going to be over any time soon, and the UGC will be looking for soldiers just like you. Its just a pity that Udina already jumped onto that boat."

"I heard about the UGC. Everyone keeps saying it's our only hope," he stated, but then he frowned, "No mentions of the Crucible though, why is that?"

He blew out air through his nostrils, scratching his scalp, "That's because the Crucible is classified; only trusted military officials such as you and myself know about it; they need to limit just how many people know about it so that the Reapers don't find out. Cerberus already knows obviously, but they can't exactly stop its construction at this point, so it doesn't matter. But if Harbinger learned there was an anti-Reaper weapon being built out there..."

"...he'd do everything he could to locate and destroy it," Kaidan acknowledged, "I see, so its pretty hush-hush then. Well, I can tell you that Rahna's heard about the UGC. She's actually offered the Alliance her assistance, and you know those other biotics I told you about that I trained with back at Jump Zero?"

He nodded his understanding, letting Kaidan continue.

"Yeah, well Rahna's formed a group for them called the Jumpers, and they've joined the Alliance," he declared, "She doesn't know what their assignment is yet, but apparently they've been stationed on the Citadel until further notice, something about this being the Alliance's HQ with Earth being occupied and Arcturus Station destroyed."

Marcus widened his eyes, "Really? That's excellent news. I'm glad Rahna's willing to do her part."

"Yeah..." Kaidan trailed off, clearly saddened, "Just a pity I can't join her. Join them. Damn this bed."

He gave the marine a sympathetic nod, "I'm sure she'll be fine, Kaidan. And besides, you'll be up and moving soon, remember? You'll be able to help them. Being a Spectre, they'll probably like your help all the more."

He grinned, nodding, "True. I'm sure Rahna would love it if I was a Spectre."

"That's the spirit," he replied, slapping the man's back. After a moment's silence, he exhaled and stood up, straightening his shirt, "Well, I better get going, Kaidan. This war isn't anywhere near over, and I've got a lot of work to do. I'm glad you're doing okay. Just...get well soon, major. The galaxy needs you.  _I_ need you."

The man brought his hand up, giving him the strongest salute he could muster, "Aye aye...sir."

Marcus smiled meekly, snapping his own salute back to the marine before turning and leaving, the door closing behind him as he rejoined the throngs of the crowd. He pushed through them, smiling as he gave a brief nod in Thane's direction, who was currently leaning against a wall, arms crossed. The drell nodded, briefly coughing before standing up and heading in Kaidan's direction. Marcus knew Thane would deal with any assassins that tried to kill Kaidan or Lia, so he was content knowing they were safe.

He moved through the doorway at the end, moving through decon and out into the main reception. Just as he made his way across the foyer, his omni-tool beeped loudly and he frowned, looking down at it with curiosity. He read the message, and noticed the sender, eyes widening before his lips broke into a smile, the man closing the device and quickening his steps to the elevator, stepping into it as he hit the order for the parking lot. Once he got there, he quickly hopped into his skycar, fired up the engine and headed straight for the Presidium Commons.

After landing, he honed in on Apollo's Cafe like a missile, quickly finding his target seated at one of the tables, her back turned to him, elbows on the table surface and hands holding her face. Her would recognize her white, skin-tight catsuit from anywhere, not to mention her long, flowing black hair and overly feminine body.

Moving up to the seat across from her, he noticed her look up, smiling as his eyes met hers. He could only laugh as he took his seat, addressing her, "Miranda Lawson, I was wondering where you'd gone off to. Was beginning to think you'd gone off the grid."

"Technically I did," was her cryptic response, the woman always having a knack for getting straight to the point, "With all the Cerberus activity around the galaxy building up, and the Illusive Man understandably furious with me, I doubt I'll get much time to rest these days. My time on the Citadel is a luxury I'm forced to entertain, I'm afraid."

"What's happened to you in the past...how long has it been? A year? Last I saw you, I was sending you off to Illium, and I learnt you got sent to an Illium hospital because of mortal wounds," he asked.

She shrugged, sighing as she lay her arms across the glass table, "I got better, and then I started running. Seems the Illusive Man wasted no time in locating me and trying to assassinate me. Of course, I escaped, and now I've been on the run for the past six months. It hasn't been exciting, and I've had to relocate Oriana and her family quite a few times, because I just know he'd use her as a bargaining chip to lure me in. Still, it's been...quite strenuous," she gulped, a sudden worried look in her eyes, "Shepard, it is nice seeing you again and all, but that's not why I called you here. I thought you deserved to know what I was about to do before I did it."

He frowned, leaning forward on the table as he listened, "I figured you wouldn't suddenly pop up just for a chat. What is it Miranda?"

She inhaled, exhaling as she also leaned forward, curling a stray string of hair out of her face and around an ear. She seemed hesitant to speak at first, but she did eventually, lips pursed as if prepared to deliver some great discovery, "Oriana...she's...she's disappeared. Her family, herself, all three. Just gone."

His eyes widened, "I thought she was safe!"

"She was. But remember just who helped us move her," Miranda growled, "I'm convinced its Cerberus. The Illusive Man knows who she is, and he's pretty desperate to have me disappear, knowing the stuff I know about the organization. Every dirty little secret."

He nodded, "That's true. But why now? Why abduct her now?"

"I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that out," Miranda pondered, shaking her head, "All I know is that I've only got one mission now: Find Oriana and rescue her. The Illusive Man is a tenacious bastard, and there's no telling what he'll do to her. Control chip...maybe turn her into one of his personal soldiers..." tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped them away, unwilling to think about it, "I don't want to think about that. Those are the thoughts of a defeatist, and I refuse to give up."

"I wish I could help Miranda," he stated regretfully, "But with the war going on, I just can't. I'm trying to secure a turian-krogan alliance, and to do that, I have to cure the genophage; which means a trip to Tuchanka in the near future. Mordin's back on board and working on it, and in the mean time, I've got Wrex breathing down my neck to hurry up and this stupid salarian bitch shooting me glares and telling me that I'm making a mistake. What do you think Miranda? Do you think curing the genophage is a mistake?"

"Can't judge what I wasn't around for. Jesus Christ was still walking the Earth while the krogan ravaged the galaxy. We don't have a right to judge, just as we can't judge the quarians for the Morning War," she stated solemnly, "But...I don't know. We need the krogan, but again, they  _did_ ravage the galaxy, even if we weren't around for it. Curing them could cause another population boom, leading to a reenactment of the Rebellions, but again, we need them; the krogan are the best fighting ground force in the galaxy. Its your choice, Shepard, but I don't know."

"No," he stated, smiling, "It's the krogan's. They need to grow up and realize what they did was a mistake, and make amends for it by standing side by side the rest of the galaxy in fighting the real enemy. Wrex knows that, and the rest will learn. I'm only along for the ride," he shook his head, getting back on topic, "But as for Oriana, I simply cannot help you."

"That's okay Shepard. I wasn't asking for help anyway," she declared, "I need to do this on my own, anyway. She's my sister, and my responsibility. I know you helped me on Illium, but those days are gone. You can't help me because of the war, and I need to rescue her because of Cerberus. I just wanted you to know...that if I don't return from this alive, that you at least know how I died. How I disappeared, and what I tried doing. And that if I fail..."

"...I will save her," he finished for her, "I promise you, Miranda, if you fail and die somehow, I will save her. Mark my words."

"Well, you've never broken a promise. You always did make good on face quality," she stated, smiling, "And thank you. Its funny, I never thought I'd despise an organization I used to be completely loyal to. You really do change people, Shepard."

"I don't change people, Miranda, I merely turn them away from their path if I think it ignorant, arrogant, stupid or pathetic," he grinned, "In your case, it was none of those four. It was evil, and you found out in the end just how evil."

"Yes I did. And I now I will do anything I can to destroy Cerberus. If I find any information regarding Cerberus, I will send it your way," she replied.

"How about Cerberus HQ?" he asked inquisitively, "You did say you've been there before."

"Yes, but my memory was always wiped," she explained. Seeing his confused look, she decided to stop the pronouns and explain herself, "The Illusive Man was very paranoid, and he always thought he would be betrayed, and that traitor would reveal the location of his base. So, as a security measure, everyone who enters the station and attempts to leave or communicate to people outside of it, must submit to a memory wipe; its very particular and specific, and only wipes away the memory pertaining to the base's location. Even I had to submit to it, even if I was his most loyal."

"That's brilliant, I'll give him that, the paranoid bastard," he frowned, "Wait, then how did you get back there? If you can't remember its location, how do you return?"

"Automated VI interface," she stated, "Its the station's main VI and it sends us the coordinates whenever our return is nessicitated. It also commences the memory wipe when the time comes. Its smart because a VI cannot be manipulated to be betrayed, and even if it could, its in the base itself only, and to hack it you'd have to find the base first, which is very hard, considering noone can  _remember_ where it is. Everyone had their memory wiped, including his top lieutenants," she smiled, "His paranoia has become quite a pain in the ass, actually. If it wasn't for that security measure, we could have taken him out a year ago and none of this would be happening."

"Well, at least you were honest. I guess we'll just find it the old conventional way: we look," he laughed, shaking his head. Soon however, the smile died from his face, "Just...be careful, Miranda. I don't like you going on your own, no matter how capable you are. You of all people should know how dangerous Cerberus is. They'll do everything to kill you," he declared. Suddenly, he remembered another important fact, "That...and the Illusive Man has a new attack dog. Kai Leng he's called, and I encountered him on Sur'Kesh. He's arrogant, but don't underestimate him."

Her eyes widened at that revelation, "Leng? That bastard is still alive?"

"You know him?" he asked.

"I was the one who recruited him. That, and another woman by the alias of Hope Lilium. Never knew her real name," she explained, "The Illusive Man ordered me to pick him up after acquiring a dossier on him; he believed his allegiance to human goals would make him a useful tool. So, I went to, ironically, the colony Freedom's Progress to pick him up and recruit him. Well, it should be obvious by now that he joined us."

"What did you find out about him?" he asked, curious.

"The man was an admitted racist; he absolutely hated aliens, and was a strong supporter of Terra Firma and had heard of Cerberus beforehand. He was Chinese, but I wasn't able to find out where he was born. Likely on Earth," she elaborated, "He joined the Alliance Marines when he was 18, and he rose up to the rank of First Lieutenant before they offered him a position in the N program. He accepted and took the specialization of infiltrator, and he quickly rose to N7 status. He's about equal to you in combat ability, Shepard, so be careful when you fight him next time. Do not get cocky," she stated, before continuing, "Anyway, he was dishonorably discharged a year later when he was sent on an assignment to kill a specific target on the Citadel with minimalized civilian casualities. Instead, he burst inside and gunned down everything that wasn't human. By the time he finally killed the target, he had murdered 67 civilians, all of them ranging from asari, turians and even a few volus. The Council was outraged, and the Alliance brass stated he had gone AWOL, and had him discharged without trial. They attempted to arrest him, but he disappeared and that's how we got wind of him. He's served Cerberus ever since as the Illusive Man's number one hitman. He's a racist bigot, but he's excellent at killing; that's all he's used for, really. Denser than a rock."

"A fellow N7," Marcus growled, rubbing the back of his neck, "He's a disgrace to everything the Alliance stands for. Being ex-special forces won't spare him; I'll fucking kill him the next time we meet."

"On that we can agree. Thank you for the warning. Leng may be stupid, but he has an impressive kill count. I don't want to be on the wrong side of his sword," she smiled meekly, but the mirth never reached her lips, "I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him. Still, I don't understand how he can still be alive. Last time I heard from a source that he had been crippled; something about an explosion and it left him in a critical state. Comatose, but close to death."

"How did that happen?" he asked.

She grinned, "Something about Leng trying to assassinate Anderson and ended up being shot in the kneecap by a carnifex, before being thrown into a chamber full of gas and the captain ignited it. Didn't think Leng would walk from that, but he must be tougher than I thought."

"The man looked to be loaded with cybernetics," Marcus noted, "He had no eyes, and he seemed stronger than a normal man. Could be what happened to me got applied to him; he didn't die, but he had cybernetics added to repair him."

"If he's got cybernetics now, that'll make him just as powerful as you now. That makes him all the more dangerous," she noted with a hint of worry, "I'll keep an eye out, and watch my back. Just watch yours Shepard...if you encounter Cerberus again, I have no doubt Leng will not be far behind. Watch your back, Shepard."

"I will. But have no illusions," he stated, leaning in with a hiss, "When we next meet, I  _am_ going to kill him. That piece of shit murdered Raan's husband, and I owe it to her to avenge him. That motherfucker will be drowning in his own blood when I'm finished with him."

"I've seen you angry, Shepard. I have no doubt Leng will be dead shortly," she laughed, nodding as she cleared her throat, "For all intents and purposes Shepard, this might be the last time we see each other awhile. I might not return to the Citadel for a long time, and I might be in the Terminus Systems by the end of the week. I can't stop, not for anyone, not even you. But we will keep in contact, correct?"

"Of course Miranda," he assured her, smiling, "And if you  _ever_ find your sister, but you need help, do not hesitate to call. I'll bring the Normandy, guns blazing and ready for a fight. Hell, maybe she'll be at Cerberus HQ and we can rescue her and kill the Illusive Man all in one stroke, wouldn't that be a doozy?"

She chuckled, something that was rare for the usually stoic perfectionist, "Yes, it most certainly would be, as unlikely as it is. But maybe luck will be on our side for once," she sighed, rubbing her temple as they sat in awkward silence. After a bit, she finally stood up, straightening her uniform as Marcus followed her example, also coming to stand and straightening his cap, "I'd better leave, Shepard. I've stayed here too long as it is, and the Illusive Man will find me soon and send people after me. I'm putting these people in danger just by-"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, cutting her off as he spoke, "Miranda, just go. I understand. If you feel you're putting us in danger, just go. But remember, stay safe. The Normandy crew misses you."

She smiled, "No they don't, and don't tell me lies just to make me feel better. I'm a bitch, I'll admit it. Jack would like to rip my guts from my spleen, Tali sees me as compeitition for your affections, Zaeed thinks I'm a slut, Garrus thinks I dress like a whore, and you didn't even like me. I'm an ice cold bitch, but someone needs to be to get the job done."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll give you that, but that doesn't mean you should throw your life away. Jack may hate you, but she won't let you die; she's changed Miranda, you should give her a chance."

"No," she smiled meekly, turning to leave, "She needs to give me one. Goodbye, Shepard."

"Stay safe Miranda," he replied as Miranda made her hasty exit, disappearing into the crowd in no time. Wtih a sigh, he waved off the waiter with an apologetic shake of the head, and left. He shook his head, refusing to believe the new cause of events. Miranda had said hello, and then just as quickly vanished with a false promise of returning alive. And then there was Leng.

_That bastard. He betrayed everything he stood for for his pathetic racism and bigotry. I will_ _**fucking kill him.** _ _I know I haven't been merciful, but for him, I will show none. He will drown on his fucking blood and choke on his intestines._

The funny thing is, Marcus knew he couldn't do all of that.

But he could definitely try. Leng's days were numbered.

**{Loading...}**

_June 10, 2186_

_1624 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

"You're terrible at driving."

"You know that's not fair, Vakarian."

"Still counts."

He sighed, shooting the turian a solid glare. Garrus was unrelenting, eyes blank and unsympathetic. With a final growl, he gave in, reaching forward and pouring himself a glass, downing it in one gulp. His shot done, he lay back, resting, "My turn," he grinned, turning to the turian, "You took a rocket to the face."

The soldier glared at him, "That-"

"Still counts."

He heard a laugh from James, and Keeling shuffled in her seat, smiling slightly. Garrus simply glared at him before nodding, and then poured a shot, downing the dextro liquid instantly. James whirled on him instantly, eyes wide, "Bullshit! No you didn't!"

"Certainly did," Garrus smugly stated, "Although it hurts like a bitch and gave me more scars than I need, I don't recommend it if you're in the market for ladies."

" _Bravo,_ Garrus!" the marine exclaimed, "You're a badass, son of a bitch."

"Don't stroke his ego, Vega," Marcus warned, "God knows it's stroked enough by himself, don't need outside parties helping."

" _Any_ way," Garrus interrupted, coughing, "Why don't we continue?" he turned to the hapless marine, smirking his ridicilous smirk, "Your turn, Vega."

He turned to Keeling, curious as he eyed the N7 sitting stoically in her seat, ready to move at the nearest moment. James seemed to ponder what he should say, and then he spoke, grinning, "You've had at least...one, boyfriend."

Marcus snorted, "Come on, James, what kind of questio-"

"Wrong. Drink."

Everyone turned to face Keeling in an instant, eyes wide. She simply glared at James, not giving in, but James just sat there, just as shocked as everyone.  _Not one? She's never even considered the prospect? Sounds like me before I was with Tali. But even then, I had a girlfriend before meeting her; sure, she died, but I still had a girlfriend..._

Finally coming to his senses, he slowly nodded, reaching forward and pouring himself a shot, consuming it one gulp just like everyone else and wincing from the warm taste. He turned to Keeling, bemused, "Your turn, then."

Keeling decided to pay his question in kind, eyes glaring, "You've had at least one girlfriend."

And to everyone's surprise,  _again,_ and with his best, confident grin, he said "Wrong. Drink."

Unlike him though, she only widened her eyes for a second before reaching down and pouring herself a shot, skulking it instantly like everyone else.  _Surprises, surprises._ Still, the awkward silence that ensued from those two questions had caused a rift between them and he decided to break it up, speaking as he realized it was now Garrus' turn again, "Well, it's your turn again, and you better have a good one, not one that's incredibly obvious."

"Well, that scratches the terrible dancing one," he thought through it and then he spoke, smiling, "You...shagged Tali, on that desk up above, using your biotics, because you thought it would make things interesting."

He almost gagged on nothing from the question, fixing the sniper with a glare, "That's a very personal question, Garrus. As your captain, I can choose not to answer that."

"But you will?"

He nodded, smiling, "You know why? Because you're wrong. Never crossed our minds. Drink."

"The desk bit or the biotics?" Garrus asked, still curious.

"The biotics," Marcus deadpanned.

"So you admit to shagging her on that desk?" he asked, still grinning.

"Drink the goddamn shot, Vakarian."

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he poured a shot and drank. Finished, he turned to Marcus. The human was still thinking of a question, but then he decided upon one, grininng at the karma as he faced the turian, "You shagged Kasumi in the lounge...after the wedding."

Garrus inhaled, a distant look in his eyes before shaking his head, "Wrong. A matter of fact, we haven't shagged  _at all._ Drink."

Marcus widened his eyes, but elected to drink first. With that done, he faced Garrus again, burping lightly, "Seriously? You two haven't done the deed?"

"No. We're not as serious as you and Tali are. It's just flirting at this point," he reluctantly stated, but then shot him a serious look, "And that's as privledged as information gets, even for you."

"Hypocrite," he quipped, "You ask me if my wife got laid on that desk with biotics, and then have the gall to play the 'privledged information' card when I ask a similiar question about sex?"

A grin spread across his mandibles, and he nodded, still smirking, "Pretty much. Now I think we should delve away from these...intimate questions. It's a bit disturbing."

"Hey, you started it."

"Actually, technically Vega-"

"Captain," EDI suddenly spoke, interrupting the game abruptly. He sighed, looking up as he spoke.

"Yes EDI?"

"Liara is requesting access to your cabin to speak with you," she stated, "She states it is urgent and of immediate importance."

He looked at the group and nodded, smile gone from his face, "Send her in."

Within seconds of the response being heard, Liara burst through the doors and down the steps, turning to face him, the worry palpable on her face, "Shepard! We need to go to Illium  _right now!_ "

He frowned at her, confused, "Why? Why do we need to go to Illium? Liara, what's going on?"

"The Reapers..." she trailed off, rubbing her temples as she began pacing, "They've attacked Illium. The planet officially came under attack half an hour ago, and now the Reapers are laying siege to every part of the planet. They're evacuating, but they think it won't be long before it becomes occupied and falls. But...my father is there. Shepard,  _please,_ she's the only family I have left!"

 _Illium? That's in the Terminus Systems and on the other side of Council Space! They completely bypassed Zorya, the Citadel, Sur'Kesh and Thessia just to strike at some random asari colony in the Terminus? Why?_ "Why the hell would they attack Illium? They haven't even taken Council space, yet."

"I don't know. But it doesn't matter," she argued, lunging forward and grabbing his shoulders, tears now in her eyes, " _Please help me._  Matriarch Aethyta is all I have left, and she won't evacuate in time, not with the Reapers in orbit."

 _Well, it'll be awhile before Mordin makes the cure, and at current, noone needs our immediate help. And if we needed to reach the Citadel, we're only three days away. It can be done._ He nodded, turning to his team, "You'll have it Liara. All of you, go down to the conference room for briefing," he looked up, "EDI, inform everyone else to meet in the conference room and prep for combat briefing. Then have Joker set a course for Illium, best speed."

"Very well Captain," she stated, "Course set in. We will be in there in three days." He nodded, and everyone immediately dropped what they were doing to head for the elevator, ready to jump into battle with the Reapers once more. Marcus decided to leave the stuff for later, and would clean it up. Besides, this took importance. Why would the Reapers ignore everything else and attack Illium? What strategic importance did it hold?

As he entered the elevator with the rest of them, only one thought lingered in his mind.

Something wasn't right about any of this.

**"Illium, the trap. Just how badly did it go?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"About as badly as it could have. But I'm here aren't I? So not all of it went to shit."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**What, Reaper? You said this chapter wouldn't be out until post December 3! Yeah, well I lied. Well actually, more like had a turn of events. Apparently I don't need to study quite as heavily as I thought for my exam, as I'm pretty much acing it, which means more time for writing. I give you this chapter in preparation for the next one, which will be the invasion of Illium and Harbinger's trap. Tired of Cerberus? Here's some Reaper action.** _

_**I created his chapter for one purpose: to give Harbinger the role of main antagonist that he deserves. I hated how, in the game, he was shoved aside in favor of having the Illusive Man be the villain, and how he didn't appear until the very end, and only had like two words of dialogue. Well, I'm fixing that. As you've noticed, he now has a very prominent role alongside the Illusive Man, meaning they can share the main antagonist role equally while still having Harbinger be the main bad guy. All works well.** _

_**The chapters following will be Utukku and Tarquin respectively. After that will be a special two part chapter, completely custom like the Illium invasion, followed by a two part Priority: Tuchanka. So fasten your seatbelts, we've got a while yet. Tuchanka isn't until at least Chapter 22, so we've got awhile. And no, Tali won't be making another appearence for quite a bit, so don't ask. This is not Keelah Se'lai; it is not a Tali centric story; it is multi-arc, meaning multi-POV. And in he meantime, I'm still trying to finish the script for V: Ultimatum: the sequel to Holocaust, and the fifth and last of the For A Better Tomorrow saga. Yes, it's almost over. Ultimatum is completely of my own imagination, so it's turning out to be quite a bit of work.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	19. Fiery Jewel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy arrives at Illium to extract Liara's friend from a besieged city. Shepard can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**FIERY JEWEL**

_June 10, 2186_

_1619 hours._

_Eternity Bar, Business District, Nos Astra, Illium._

_The Reaper War, Unprecedented Reaper Strike: Fall of Illium._

_Matriarch Aethyta._

Heat danced over her skin as the explosion shook the bar apart, the destroyed tables sent flying in multiple directions and shattering upon impact with the walls. She listened as people screamed, either engulfed and torn apart by the blast, or thrown away like a doll to slam into a wall, breaking numerous bones or simply dying from the hit. The Eternity Bar was a mess of gunfire, explosions and gore as the place was torn asunder, the Reaper assault utterly methodical, ruthless and relentless.

From her crouched position behind the bar, she could hear moans and groans, but she didn't recognize them; they sounded unnatural, the sound hanging in her ears eerily. She heard the padding of feet as the assailants rushed by, followed by screams she recognized as noise coupled them, the sound of flesh being torn apart and claws raking against steel easily heard; creatures. The Reapers had deployed their ground troops.  _Fuck, now it's going to be even harder to get out of here._

She coughed from the smoke that she inhaled, covering her mouth and nose to keep it out, but not daring to bring up her biotics in case it drew too much attention. The sound of a Reaper's airhorn echoed throughout the bar, drilling into her eardrums as she gritted her teeth. The sound would make the most hardened shudder, and she felt a chill shoot up her spine from it, sending goosebumps up her skin.  _Goddess, never did I think a sound like that could be so...terrifying. Fuck this shit, I need to get out of here. These assholes are pretty methodical, and they'll find me before long._

She grunted as she extended her crouch slightly upwards, grunting as she looked up and peeked over the bar. It was covered in the glass of multiple shattered glasses, and even some liquid dripped over it from unfinished drinks now spilt. But she didn't take notice of that; she only had eyes for what lay ahead of her. Directly ahead lay the remainder of the ruined structure, and it was a very desolate place. The back room was now completely gone, only a large gaping hole that gave a clear view of the city outside, wind whipping past the large, gigantic lumbering form of a Reaper capital ship lumbering by, beams of red hot death spewing from its under carriage as it traversed Nos Astra, annihilating everything in its path. The building shuddered with everyone of the Reaper's leg falls, and she watched as a building in the distance was shoved out of the way by another capital ship, moving through it as debris rained down upon its hull, completely unfazed by the object. Fires raged in the background, smoke rising up into Illium's atmosphere; what had been a shining jewel of asari grace and power was now nothing but a destroyed ruin; a fiery jewel.

She turned away from the hole, watching as husks seemed to almost endlessly pour out of it. She had heard the Reapers had converted batarians, turians and krogan, but all she saw was the human husks; wondering around as they seemed to search the place, and she looked around in horror, taking note of the bloodied floor and the torn and shredded remnants of what had been people; ripped apart by the mindless Reaper horde. She swore one was turning to face her direction, so she fell back behind the bar, drawing in her breath. She had noticed the bar's entrance; it was unlocked, and she could make a run for it, but where would she go? No doubt Reaper forces were all over the city. She would find no asylum anywhere in Nos Astra, not so long as the Reapers lay siege to it.  _And if they are here in full force, then they aren't leaving any time soon._  But anywhere was better than here at present.

She took another peek, and this time she saw a dew dozen of the husks were  _glowing._ Bright orange in fact, and it looked like they were on fire.  _Abominations. Those ones are explosive._ Suddenly, she had a plan of attack, and prepared a biotic fist under the bar, her other hand staying put as she continued to study her bar's invaders. Well, she couldn't stay here, as the place was going to be vaporized at one point or another, or she would be found by husks. Neither option particularly appealed to her.

Reaching back under her bar, she tore open one of the drawers, reaching in and bringing out her Tempest SMG, quickly making sure it was loaded before reaching further in and gathering all her thermal clips; fifteen in total. With a sigh, she placed all fifteen in the many pockets of her shirt, bracing the SMG with one hand as she reared her other hand, glowing with ethereal energy. She took slow, deep breaths, steadying herself for the coming battle. She closed her eyes, smiling, bringing up an image of Liara.  _I'm coming...little wing._ Waiting no longer, she steeled herself and vaulted over the bar, sending her biotics forth.

Like a tornado they tore through the space, sending debris and rotting flesh in many directions before barrelling into the horde of husks coming through the breach. They didn't get time to register the attack as a dozen were sent flying back through and plummeted towards the ground far below, one of them being an abomination that exploded as it grazed against a wall, fiery body exploding and obliterating the husks around it. But despite her assault, the husks were now prepared and moving towards her, and more were beginning to come through the hole. With haste, she moved off to the left, her goal the door as she brought her SMG to bear and let loose a burst of fire, holding down the trigger until it screamed at her for a reload. Complying, she reached inside, pulled out a clip, popped her current one and then slid the new one in, bringing the weapon back for a second volley. By that point, numerous husks had fallen to her gunfire, as well as having detonated many abominations, but she didn't care as she opened fire again, her back hitting the door, tapping the interface. She fell onto her back as the door slid open, and she quickly kicked herself behind it, desperately trying to escape while still spraying her weapon. In that instant, it clicked empty once more, and she scrambled to reload.

Her eyes widened as she was midway through reloading as a husk leapt at her, rotted teeth barred as it prepared to tear into her throat. She needn't have worried as the door closed a microsecond later, chopping the creature clean in half, sending its torso flailing onto her and leaving its legs behind. It screeched, trying to claw at her, but she simply raised her weapon, pinned it to its forehead, and pulled the trigger, spraying black ichor along the ground and into her face.

She wiped it away to the best of her ability before rushing to her feet, hearing banging on the door. She sighed, knowing the door was far too strong and heavily reinforced to be beaten down by a horde of husks. She turned to move down the stairs, but stopped when she heard a loud bang, turning back to see a massive dent in the door. Her eyes went wide again in shock just before another bang, a loud, raspy growling sound tearing through the door. She had heard it before.  _A brute._ No doubt there would be more of the large monstrosities, and she elected to make no further comments on Reaper ability as she rushed down the steps and made best speed for the main business area below. Maybe she would find more survivors.

She rounded the stairs, moving down them as she moved through a jammed door, through anothe stairway, and then rounded the corner once more.

She growled in irritation as she saw the glass observation window on the right side had shattered inwards, glass all over the stairs, but the stairs themselves were blackened, with one side reduced to debris. She stepped delicately over it, making sure she didn't impale her foot on the jagged piece of metal, before moving over it, moving towards the closed door at the bottom, luckily unlocked; she thanked the goddess for Illium security procedure regarding a siege; make all evacuation routes unlocked so as to not stem the flow of civilian evacuation.

She hit the door interface, raising her weapon, as she could not know what to expect behind it. It slid apart seemlessly, but she found herself greeted by nothing, only the corpse of three dead asari, along with a dead turian. She almost gasped at the smell, and she quickly took notice of the scratch marks along their faces and backs, purple to blue blood leaking from the wounds, but most of it having dried on their stained clothes. She moved past their bodies, turning right as she surveyed the damage done to the area.

Apart from the sounds of a Reaper walking away, Reapers moving in the background, and Reapers blowing apart every square foot of structure they came across, the business district was dead silent, literally. Some of the balcony had been caved in from the impact of a falling crane, which was now looming over the area; its upper half lodged into a wall above her and the other wedged inbetween the crack of the balcony, sparks flying from numerous destroyed consoles and fires raging throughout the decking. She wheezed when her eyes came across the dead of a volus, his suit ruptured meaning that there was now white blood all over the place, done from the skin splitting like a hot air balloon. His corpse wasn't the only one; numerous ones lay all over the place, ranging from casual civilians to security. The place was a graveyard.

She moved across the uneven ground, looking up at what used to be her daughter's office before she moved out, now just a battered husk; the windows were cracked heavily, but it looked largely untouched. She made quiet, quick steps, careful to not make too much noise. She found a husk nearby, crushed by a piece of steel pipe. She cringed, mouth creasing in distaste as she moved over to the helpless creature. It noticed her and began to snarl at her, flailing its arms about in a desperate attempt to reach her. Aethyta merely spat at it before bringing up her foot and stamping down on its neck, crushing it in an instant, causing it to cease all movement. With a sigh, she moved towards the stairway leading to Liara's old office, only to stop when she heard quiet sobbing. At first, she thought she was hearing things, but when she turned left, the sound intensified.

It was coming from an overturned table lying on the ground. Cautious, she bore her SMG and moved towards it, each one of her steps careful and measured. Finally reaching it, she wrapped a blue hand around it, overturning it before immediately bringing back her weapon to aim again. Her eyes lowered, but quickly widened as she felt herself lowering her weapon, surprised by the change of events.

Sitting in a fetal position up against the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs and sobbing into her mask, was a female quarian. Her suit was a deep black in color, with her veil being an enriched brown color. She ceased her weeping, head shooting up to look at her, silver eyes behind her mask widening before lowering again, seeing it was not a husk that loomed over her, but an asari matriarch. She turned back to her legs, sniffing, "Leave me alone," was all she said.

"What are you doing here?" Aethyta snarled, "Do you want to get fucking killed?"

She violently nodded, "It's better then what I've been getting. Besides, what's the point?" She choked back another sob, "The galaxy's coming to an end, why survive to see it?"

She crouched down next to the quarian, laying her SMG on the ground as she lay a hand on the quarian, "You're the only survivor I've found so far, you know. Besides, it could be worse. You could be dead right now."

"I  _want_ to be dead right now," she grumbled.

"Why?" she growled, "Why do you want to be dead?"

She snapped to look at her, eyes dark, "Oh, so you want a lesson on my life? Fine, you bosh'tet. My life has been total  _heresh'ka_ since the beginning! My mother died giving birth to me, and my father recently died onboard a ship called the Alarei when a geth experiment went wrong. Before that, I was already on my pilgrimage, and I made the almighty decision to go to Illium. And coupled with everyone treating me like garbage and dirty excrement, I run out of  _food_ and begin to starve. So I thought...why not become a worker? So I go up to Synthetic Insights, and ask for a job. And what happens?" she sobbed once more, her body shaking with sorrow, muttering something.

"What did you say?" Aethyta asked, grabbing the bottom of the quarian's mask and thrusting it upwards, "Speak up, kid."

"Indentured servitude, you Illium people call it," she spat, "Humans call it  _slavery,_ and for good reason. I didn't realize what was happening until I was already under contract; now I'm just a slave for some corporate  _hagrr'hiz_  to lead around by a chain. I'm their pet, their little worker who cannot get away. And I thought it would be just for my pilgrimage. Turns out I'm just an ignorant child. They signed me on for life. From that day, I knew I'd never see my own people, or the Migrant Fleet, ever again," she drew in breath, shaking her head, "So why live? The Reapers are here and want to take my life? So be it. Let them take it. I want nothing more. If only for this nightmare to end."

She sighed, shaking the quarian's shoulder, "Look kid, I'm not going to pretend to know how you feel, but I know this: I didn't come all this way just to let the first survivor I see die. You're a quarian, so that's even more of a rarity. I know your life's been pretty shitty, from what I've heard it sounds goddamn depressing, but moping here won't solve anything. You want to see the Migrant Fleet again? Come with me." She moved to pull her up, but she didn't budge, refusing to move. She growled, trying to lift her, "Will you get up!"

"No!" she screamed, wrenching her arm free, "I don't want to go! Just let me be!"

"You're coming with me! You're not going to die!" Aethyta yelled back.

"That's not your choice to make!" she growled back, "Who the hell are you to play God? Ancestors forbid I want to choose how I die! I've got nothing left for me back on the Fleet but my people! We don't get to have brothers and sisters like you do, so I have nothing on that side! I have no mother or father! And I don't have any aunties or uncles! I'm not like you! I don't get to live in a life of luxury! My life is  _hell!_ So why not just end it, here and now? I'm not going to live with the legacy of slavery and dead parents in my wake. Its not happening!"

"And what about marriage? And a kid?" she snapped at the pilgrim, "Did you think of that? One day, you would have found a nice young man to marry and you'd have your own child!"

"What?" she asked, flabbergasted by her audacity, "That...that's stupid! The thought never even crossed my mind! NO! I'm going to die here, and that's that! You cannot stop me!" Upon her words, the asari heard the familiar sounds of the moaning of husks, followed by the snarling of a brute as they descended the stairs.  _They've gotten through._ But to her horror, the quarian turned to look at the sound, eyes not leaving the source as her position relaxed, something almost...content, in her tone, "Yes...here they come...it'll all be over soon..." she gulped, turning towards the matriarch, who still crouched over her, unrelenting in her stance. She sighed, taking on a gentler tone, "Just...go. You should go. You clearly don't want to die, and I understand, but could you please understand that I have nothing to live for? I have no reason to live. You do. So please, just save yourself, and leave me."

Aethyta growled as she held her hands in the air, wondering if she should kill her or leave her. Her eyes welled, wondering if it was the right thing to do; to leave this quarian to die. She shook her head, "I can't. I can't just leave knowing I left you to die. Do you know what those things will do to you? They'll  _kill you_  in the  _most painful ways possible._ They don't shoot you, they'll tear you apart."

She heard a hiss, and she widened her eyes as she watched the quarian remove her mask, taking it away. Before the matriarch could do anything, she slammed it against a wall, shattering the visor and splaying bits of glass over the floor as the quarian smiled grimly, black hair spilling from under her veil, "I've suffered alot of pain in my life. I can suffer alittle more on the way to the afterlife. Please, my parents are waiting for me," she sighed, leaning back as she heard the sounds getting closer, "Go. Please. Don't sacrifice your life for me, especially when I want this. Let me have this,  _please._ "

The asari finally slumped, looking utterly helpless. She knew she should find it an honor to see a quarian's face, and should be amazed at her beauty, if it weren't for her tear-soaked cheeks and eyes, but she could only looked at the quarian sorrowfully, both angry that she had shattered her mask and therefore making it impossible to save her life, but also sad that she had to leave this poor girl to die and she wasn't even an adult yet. She hadn't experienced life. It was a sad waste of life. Sighing, she asked only one thing of her, "What's your name?"

The girl looked shocked, "What? What kind of a question is that?"

"What's your name, kid?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples, "Dalra'Otto nar Hjasp."

The asari smiled, nodding melancholy, "May you find peace in the embrace of the goddess, Dalra'Otto nar Hjasp," she held back tears at the quarian stranger's passing, "Keelah Se'lai."

The quarian nodded just as sadly, "Thank you. Keelah Se'lai..."

"Aethyta."

"...Aethyta," she replied, "Go in peace, and ancestors be with you."

Aethyta could not stand to watch any longer as she kissed the top of the quarian's head before picking up her weapon and spinning around the corner, narrowly avoiding the sights of the appearing huskified forces. She heaved as she reached the door under the old office, but stopped her hand when she saw when one of the doors was blown off. Shrugging, she moved through the doorway and found the corridor ahead to be completely empty, so she pushed on ahead, keeping her SMG brandished at all times. She moved forward until she reached the door at the end, this time both doors having been completely blown apart. She did a sweep of both sides, before taking her first step.

She cringed as she heard a female scream, and she felt a tear leave her eye before wiping it away; she recognized the voice it belonged to. But if the husks had reached her, they wouldn't be far behind; she had to keep moving. Another scream, and soon the corridor echoed with them, and Aethyta just wanted to get as far away as she could to escape them. She thought she heard Dalra scream 'No!', but she quickly threw those thoughts to the wind, merely continuing through the empty lobby and up to the door on the other side, watching it slide apart before her...

...only to reveal the back of a cannibal, who was now turning to the source of the noise. It screeched as it locked eyes with her, bringing its gun arm to aim at her, but she knocked it aside with one biotic arm, using the other hand to raise her SMG and empty a burst, point-blank, into the hideous husk's face. It flew apart as the bullets chewed through its head, blowing apart chunks of flesh and meat as it fell limply to the floor, the Reaper connection to its body cut due to the lack of an operable brain. She raised a biotic barrier as she felt numerous bullets impact against it, a swarm of cannibals appearing as they opened fire on her, a marauder leading them as it also fired bursts from its procured phaeston, letting out harsh, mechanical screeches as it lead its squad of demonic minions to their next victim. But Aethyta was no victim; she would not end up like Dalra. She would not.

But she could not hope to take on an entire squad of the creatures, let alone a fully-shielded leader unit like the marauder; by the time she finished its shields, she would have dropped her barrier, and the turian phaeston was known for making short work of unarmoured units; she would be chewed like gum if she let even one bullet touch her.

So with renewed purpose, and a bit of sheer stupidity, she rolled to the left, bursting through the glass railing, keeping her barriers up as she did. It rained around her as she fell through cleanly, coming to a thud on the ground below as she growled. Pain stabbed her body, and she felt bits of sharp glass jabbing into her skin. She covered herself to get rid of any unwanted debris and quickly started moving, throwing her barriers up to ward off any further attacks from the Reaper troops.

The bullets continued to pound mercilessly against her barrier as she ran towards the edge of the balcony, the open area looked like a copy and paste of the other area, but larger, and less devastated, just more abandoned. She dodged the gunfire of another cannibal, and almost yelled out in horror when she narrowly dodged the blow of a husk swipe. All the while she kept running, finding herself suddenly surrounded by Reaper foot soldiers. She desperately tried to escape their convergence, but there seemed to be more and more approaching, like they suddenly knew she existed and were devoting everything they had to killing her.

She screamed as she felt the claws of a husk scrape across her waist, trying desperately to ignore the pain that clawed up her side from the blow, and kept running, never stopping. But it wasn't long before she was out of floor, reaching the edge of the balcony and coming to an abrupt stop. All that lay down below was the city floor, and numerous flaming skyscrapers and dying innocents. She noticed two red dots down below, the size of shoes in her view, discovering them to be Destroyer-Class Reapers prodding down below, taking on the smaller targets bigger Reapers couldn't. She wracked her mind for answers to her problem, but suddenly came to a stop when she heard a loud wail, unlike anything she had ever heard before.

She froze, slowly turning to face whatever had made that horrific sound. When she turned, she saw all the husks converging still, ableit more slowly. But what she noticed emerging from the group was horrifying, disgusting and pure  _monstrosity._

The husk trudged forward on three-toed feet, three-fingered hands dangling at her sides, but now scythed like daggers, ready to slice her belly open. The woman had worn a full body enviro suit, but it was now split down the middle, what was left of it hanging loosely on whatever skin was left, most of it now covered totally in cybernetics. What had once been breasts were now two mechanical bumps full of machinery and lines of circuitry, now embedded in her once smooth grey skin. And then her eyes landed on that face...oh goddess, that awful face...

Her hood was still up, but torn, and her neck looked to have been sliced open by husk claws, only to be fixed and discarded as the person was transformed into a Reaper soldier. What had once been a beautiful face was now lined with cybernetics, the implants the person already had being modified and turned into immune boosters. Her eyes glowed more powerfully than before, and circuits and piping trailed into her mouth, her teeth all but completely removed, along with her tongue, nothing but dried red blood leaking from her mouth from where it had been cut. What had been black hair was beads of what looked to be electrically charged stringy pylons, dangling and conducting electricity. Aethyta continued to gape in horror, completely taken aback by the suddeness of this terrible abomination.

She was looking at a quarian husk. And, to her immense disgust, she knew just which quarian had been converted.  _Oh Dalra...you poor girl...I should have shot you and burnt your body..._

The thing opened its mouth, wailing once more as it moved forward, dragging one foot behind the other on its steady approach. She raised her SMG and fired at it, but it merely pinged off of it, repulsed by a kinetic barrier. She unloaded the whole clip, but still nothing got through. She reloaded and fired again, aiming at the head, but still, the barrier did not relent. She finally emptied her whole clip, hoping for a result, but it was useless; the barrier was impenetrable. She noticed the pylons on her head, what had been her hair, glowed bright blue everytime the barrier activated. Something clicked in her head, and she looked at all the husks converging around her.  _The quarian husk...its a mobile shield generator plus soldier for the other husks. An impenetrable barrier for its troops that's...shit!_

Before she knew it, all the husks had closed ranks, and now surrounded her. With her SMG now useless and out of ammo, she simply dumped it and unleashed a flurry of biotic fire, trying to delay them but, just like before, they were harmlessly absorbed by the quarian's barrier. She backed against the balcony, but when she neared it, a realization hit her, and she gulped.  _There's only one way out, and I'm not going to sit here and just die like Dalra did._ She eyed the creature before her, nearing with every step, wailing, screeching.  _No, I see how that ended. I hope her death was quick._ She stepped up to the edge, taking a deep breath.  _I'm sorry Liara, I should have been a better father, should have been there, should have told you._ She smiled.  _Take care of her Shepard, you're one hell of a man. Keep her safe._ And just as the quarian reached her, she put all her weight on her back, and closed her eyes as she felt her momentum take her off the edge, and she entered freefall towards the streets below.

And least she wouldn't become a...whatever you call an asari husk.

**{Loading...}**

_June 13, 2186_

_1239 hours._

_Eternity Bar, Business District, Nos Astra, Illium._

_The Reaper War, Unprecedented Reaper Strike: Fall of Illium._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

"Bring us closer for a drop!" Marcus shouted over the scream of the engines, holding tightly onto the shuttle as it moved closer, the hatch wide open as wind whipped against his helmet and armor heavily, Hurricane SMG in his other hand. He felt the presence of his squad behind him, weapons drawn and ready to deploy as Cortez aligned the hatch with the giant, gaping hole in the bar's wall. It looked like it had been breached a long while ago.

"That's the best I can do, Shepard!" Cortez shouted, desperately trying to be heard over the airhorn of a Reaper in the distance, "Any closer and I'll be leaving with half of the shuttle."

"Close enough!" he roared and quickly leapt out of the airborne vehicle, landing in a combat roll as he came into a crouch, scanning the surrounding area with his SMG, covered in dust and disturbing the old, withered debris with his abrupt landing. He grunted as he moved forward, motioning for the rest of the team to deploy.

All in all, the room was eerily quiet. The only sounds to be heard was what was happening in the city around and below him. Aside from that however, nothing disturbed the silence of the abandoned bar. The explosion that had caused the hole had destroyed a large swath of the room, with many tables vaporized or shredded. Bodies lay all over, either mauled or blown apart. But from what he could see, there were dozens of husks laying dead, along with bits of flesh that glowed, having only belonged to a abomination. There were indents in the floor that hinted to a brute, and when he saw the door on his right, torn open, it confirmed his thoughts. But as he scanned, he came to the relieved conclusion that none of the dead bodies could have killed this man husks; none looked to have put up a fight.  _Aethyta must have escaped. Her body isn't here._

"By the goddess..." Liara whimpered, taken aback by the sight of death, covering her nose as the stench reached her nose, "This is horrible. So much death..."

"Its probably worse back on Earth," James noted, stepping over the dead body of a husk as he kept an eye on the door, eyes down the sight of his favourite Revenant; the weapon had been modified with a scope and given a smart choke, meaning the weapon was now less sporadic and all focused; the rifled barrel making the light machine gun an even deadlier weapon. And with James' strength handling the immense recoil, the Revenant would be the deadliest fucker on the battlefield.

"And Palaven," Garrus mused sadly, his foot giving a wet  _slosh_ as he stepped and crushed a piece of discarded flesh, wincing from the sound and scraping it from his boot with his armoured hand.

Keeling moved over and looked over the side of the bar, shaking her head at him. He turned and looked at Wrex as he overturned another table, also shaking his head. Suddenly, Javik moved up and approached him, "The asari's father is not here. She has either been converted or escaped. Either one is likely."

He raised an eyebrow at the prothean, shocked, "You know who Aethyta is?"

"No," the soldier rasped, "I merely read the asari's thoughts."

"I may have reluctantly been...compelled to let him," Liara stated, sighing as she rubbed her forehead.

"Well, if Aethyta isn't here, we should get moving," Marcus declared, turning to the door, "Come on, we should try down there. The quicker we extract Aethyta the better we are off. We can't stay here for long."

"That's...insensitive," Liara curtly stated, glowering at him.

He gave her an apologetic look, "Not much we can do about this, Liara. Illium is falling whether we like it or not. There's nothing we can do but do what we came here to do. Save Aethyta, get out of here," he motioned to the door, "Javik, Garrus, you take point. Wrex, EDI, I want you covering me. Everyone else, keep an eye out and don't fall behind," he turned to the shuttle, shouting, "Cortez! Get into orbit, avoid being spotted and wait until we call for extraction! Do not leave for the Normandy until I give the order!"

"See you guys soon!" Cortez called out before he brought the shuttle up and disappeared once more, leaving the squad to themselves. Cracking his neck, Marcus moved forward, not giving the squad time to register the unsaid command verbally; they merely fell into line and followed him.

They moved through the shattered doorway, and immediately came face to face with a group of stationary husks, who looked to have been standing still until his team arrived. Garrus and Javik picked them off immediately, the prothean's particle rifle cutting through flesh like a hot knife, and Garrus' mattock chewing it like shredded cheese. When they were done, all four husks had been taken out and lay on the ground in a heap, leaking their life into the cracked steel floor. There was no time to stop; reloading, they continued moving with fluidity, moving at a speed and need that warranted no stopping.

As they rounded the corner, he lowered his SMG and looked down range at the doorway dead ahead, also torn off its hinges, this time with the doors being violently thrown into a wall ahead, sparks flying from the torn circuitry in the wall. He carefully moved down the broken stairwell, trying not to make too much sound, his squad following his example except for Wrex, who was just too damn heavy anyway.

Once at the bottom, he joined Javik and Garrus and bumped against the wall, switching his SMG for his mattock and sighting down range at the Business District directly ahead. His scope swept over the area, looking for hostile targets, and quickly found them in the form of a marauder and a group of cannibals, which looked to be gunning down a group of civilians who were hiding. There was nothing he could do for them now; by the time he reacted, they'd all be dead anyway.  _But we can damn well avenge them._ He turned from his scope, motioning for Javik and Garrus to distract them while he took everyone else and gunned them down.

The entire thing happened perfectly; Garrus and Javik drew their fire, everyone else did the rest. Wrex even had some fun in batting a cannibal's face into a gorey mush with his claymore, while everyone else fired from long range, cutting through the Reaper lines. Cannibals fell almost instantly from the maelstrom of fire directed at them, and the marauder's shields were wittled down pretty quickly, the final kill made by Kasumi as her SMG shot and blew its head apart, a thick curtain of black viscera exploding from the back of its shrieking skull as it flew backwards onto the ground, effectively dead.

He lowered his smoking rifle and trudged forward, reloading as he did but keeping a careful eye out for any further hostile forces. Seeing as none presented themselves, he moved at faster pace, ignoring the large crane that loomed over them as he crossed the barely recognizable district, the entire area bombed out and practically obliterated. He didn't even seem to notice the massive Reaper in the distance, bigger than the others, and looking directly in his direction.

But apparently neither did his squad, as they simply followed behind him, also coming to a stop as he did, the spectre gazing up at the office that loomed over them.

"That used to be yours," Marcus mused, talking to noone in particular, but the person in question seemed to get it and Liara stumbled forward, nodding her head as she did.

"And now its a wreck," the asari replied, shaking her head, "We don't have time for nostalgia, Shepard. Aethyta needs our help."

"I know, I know," he replied, sighing as he felt his shoulders go lax, "Just thought...never mind, let's get this over with. Let's consider her options," he pointed to the area leading to the dock, "She can't go very far in that direction. Besides, its cut off," he noted the giant piece of debris blocking its entrance, having fallen from above. He turned to look at the corridor moving under Liara's old office, "Her only option would be there, so that's where we'll go."

"We're not going to check the office, loco?" James quizzed, frowning, "She could be hiding there."

"Not likely," Keeling replied, "If she's smart, she'll know that the Reapers are very methodical searchers, and she couldn't hope to hide in such an open space for very long. No, she's not hiding up there; it simply makes no sense. But if you want us to search anyway, sir..." she trailed off, turning to look at Marcus.

He shook his head, "No, you're right. Aethyta never struck me as stupid, and she would know that the place is a foolhardy place to hide in," he pointed to the doorway, turning to his squad, "Everyone, fall in. We've got more searching to do. And I don't care what our main mission is," he sternly stated, "We are going to help any civilians we come across. We can't save everyone, but we will save as many people as we can."

"A foolish detour. They will only drag us down," Javik pointed out, clearly irritated at the prospect, "But you are the commander."

"Thank you for that Javik. I never knew," he exasperated, shaking his head as he stepped forward to move ahead, but instead found himself bumping into something. He grunted, shifting his helmet back into position as he gazed upwards, frowning. It was a tripod; a tall, slim structure standing on three metal legs with the base having a large spike pointing out-

He backed away in horror, whilst also growling as he primed a grenade, telling his team to get back. It was a dragon's tooth; an Alliance nickname for the devices the Reapers used to convert people into husks. They pulled the victim ontop and impaled them on the device. From there, the process began; the gradual conversion of organic into cybernetic monstrosity. The device right now was fully extended, no body present but had red blood coating the entire stem, dried and crusted, but still horrifying to look at. This tooth had taken a victim, but it was red blooded, so that meant batarian or human.  _So...a husk or cannibal at worst. No biggy. Still, I hope the poor bastard was dead when they converted him/her..._ He ordered his team to back away and then tossed the grenade, backing away himself to a safe distance as he watched it detonate, red fire engulfing the object and blasting it apart, the Reaper tech not surviving as it was torn asunder and its debris tossed away. He watched it for a few more seconds afterward, watching the smoke clear and letting the debris settle before he moved forward once more, "Don't follow my example. Come on, let's get moving."

He moved to go through the torn open door, but quickly stopped when he heard shouting, and moaning. He frowned, twisting his head in confusion at his squad before turning back, rifle raised in preparation for what lay ahead. Carefully, he stepped through the remnants of the door, carefully stepping over a dead husk as he trudged forward.

An inhuman wail echoed through the room, followed by cursing. Someone was alive, and he recognized the voice, but he didn't focus on it, only that wail. It was definitely a husk, but he hadn't the sound from any husk he'd met before. Even brutes didn't sound as demonic. As...evil. It hurt his ears, still ringing through them even after it had gone away.  _What...what was that?_

The sounds grew closer until an asari rounded the corner, her clothes torn and bloodied. She wielded an old-fashioned knife in her grip, biotics shimmering around her body as she ran, shouting as she sent a biotic shockwave through the doorway she came from, obviously trying to delay something. She grunted and continued running in their direction, body signs showing extreme fatigue; she looked about to collapse, but kept pushing forward, terrified.

Suddenly, she looked up and skidded to a stop, confused, but relieved all at the same time. "Oh thank the goddess. But how did you-?" she cut herself off when she saw something past his shoulder that sent her face blank, and he turned to see Liara, looking at Aethyta with a relieved smile on her face. He had to stay, the matriarch looked like shit; her face was covered in cuts, purple blood crusted around them and staining her face as she looked like she rode through hell. She turned to him, smiling, "Commander Shepard, aren't you a sight for sore fucking eyes."

"Its Cap-oh, fuck it," he exclaimed, turning back to her, "Its good to see you again, Aethyta. Glad for the rescue?"

"Very," the matriarch declared, turning over her shoulder, "Although I doubt you're here for me." Silence filled the corridor, and she looked at them incredulously. Her eyes finally remet Liara's, "Please tell me you're not."

"Unfortunately...yes, we are," Liara nervously replied, rubbing the back of her neck, "We heard Illium had come under attack June 10, and I knew you were in trouble. I couldn't just leave you to die, so I asked for Shepard's help in rescuing you."

"Of all the things..." she cursed, slamming her fist against a wall. Before she could say anything though, that wail sounded again, sending goosebumps prickling along his spine as he heard it, the asari whirling in its direction, "Fuck! Its her again! Run!"

"What?"

"Trust me. Fucking run! This is one fight you can't win! I don't care how badass you are, you don't have the bullets-"

The wail shrieked again, and this time it was...directly in  _front of them._

He looked up, eyes landing on the creature that stood at the end of the hallway, limping towards them. It was a horrid abomination, but there was something about the glowing eyes, torn suit hanging off its limbs and-wait, that did sound too familiar. Suddenly, his eyes widened in horror and he felt his weapon shaking slightly in his grip.  _My God, that was a quarian...a_ _ **female**_ _quarian...but how...?_

His ears popped as a sudden burst of machine gun fire roared past his head, impacting the husk. Its hair-like pylons on its head glowed bright blue and the rounds bounced harmlessly off its shield. Not a single bullet got through, and when James finished emptying the clip, he could only look on in shock.

Aethyta rushed past him, "Its shields are impenetrable. Nothing breaks through that barrier! I saw them use it as a mobile shield generator!" she growled, "Come on! We need to go! We aren't going to be able to stop that thing! You've got me, so let's get the fuck out of here!"

Marcus just continued to stand there in shock, eying the quarian with terror in his eyes. Every bone in his body seemed to freeze, every muscle going numb as he gulped, unable to move. He stayed like this for a bit until he felt a three-fingered hand grasp his wrist, a voice shouting into his ear that immediately woke him up, "Marcus, snap out of it and run! We need to call Cortez for extraction!"

He turned to him, nodding quickly as he turned in the turian's direction, running alongside him as they headed in the direction of the Eternity Bar. They continued to run, the rest of the squad up ahead and following Aethyta as they moved as fast as they could, desperately trying to escape the unstoppable monstrosity. Javik and Wrex remained behind, hoping to delay it long enough for them to extract and escape to the bar.

As he ran, he commed Cortez's shuttle, "Cortez, we need extraction now, on the double! Same area as deployment, and hurry! We have Aethyta but we are being pursued by a new form of Reaper soldier," he turned back to look at the creature, the...Chimera, as he chose to call it. The creature seemed to be moving at the same pace, incapable of fast movement, and it had just rounded the corner and turned to them as he reached the epicenter of the area. He froze in place once more as he locked eyes with it, looking into its pale depths and unable to hear Cortez's response.

He heard shouting, but he turned to Garrus, shaking his head, "No, I need to take this thing down. Go, I'll deal with this," he barked, turning back as he prepped his claymore, hoping to get in close enough to take out the huskified quarian. Whatever beauty she once had was now a disgusting, pale grey monster, incapable of emotion or any other feelings apart from those its master gave it. He prepped the weapon and took aim, aware that one of his squad members was watching, but taking no notice as he took aim, sighting down range at what had to be her torso, the creature wailing once more.

He felt his grip on the shotgun become taunt, tight as a bowstring as he tapped the trigger, but did not fix around it or pull it. In that instant, it seemed his resolve failed him, the man unable to do it. For some reason, as he looked at the creature, he just couldn't pull the trigger. He felt sweat collecting on his brow, and the creature coming uncomfortably closer, but still, he could not fire.  _What's wrong with me!? Just pull the fucking trigger! Kill the monster!_ But he couldn't; it was like someone else had taken control of his body, and instead of horror, his emotions became...sad? Melancholic? Sorrowful? What the hell? He didn't know who this quarian was, so why did he suddenly feel sad?

Why did he feel like weeping instead of pulling the trigger? Why did he want to die?

His muscles screamed in protest from the stress he placed on the gun, but he still couldn't fire, and suddenly the creature was a meter away. It was then he hit a realization, and he looked up at the husk's face. Instead of the ugly deformity he expected to see, he saw a familiar face; black hair flowing from her scalp, smooth cheeks and freckles, accompanied by supple lips and bright silver eyes, glowing with warmth. And then suddenly they sagged, melted, circuitry appearing, and he was once more looking at the abomination before him, getting closer. He recognized the face, and he had to choke back a sob.

Tali. When he saw this beast, this...quarian husk, all he could see was Tali, and as far as he was concerned, pulling the trigger and killing it was like killing Tali. What if she turned into this emotionless foot soldier? What if she became a chimera? Could he do it? Could he pull the trigger?

The answer was in his pose right now, how he stood, how he froze. No, he couldn't.

Suddenly, all sound returned, and he heard Garrus' voice, "MARCUS! GET OUT OF THERE!"

He shook his head, but was too late as he found the beast right infront of him, maw stretching as it wailed right in his face. He moved to raise the shotgun, but found it slapped aside, the beast shoving him as he tripped and fell onto his back, landing with a loud clang. Fear reentered his body as he looked up in terror at the beast, desperately crawling backwards and away from it, trying to escape. It sluggishly followed, trying to catch up, but his crawling intensified in speed and, for a second, he thought he might escape.

But then suddenly, a familiar voice. But not a welcome one.

_**"Shepard."** _

He whirled right, his body freezing up once more as he found the enormous form of a Reaper looming over them, his squad seeming rooted to the spot as well as they looked at the towering gargantuan. But as he looked, he recognized the structure of the Reaper, and realized it wasn't the standard capital ship. Instead of being two kilometers long, it was six, towering over even the Dantius Towers in the distance and gleaming with crimson and orange metal armor plating. This one also had eyes, and they glowed with ferocious, yellow intent. He gulped, his throat dry.

Harbinger.

 _ **"Your resistance means little; you are but a spec in the scheme of the galaxy,"**_ Harbinger boomed, shifting one of its legs as its eyes seemed to glare at him,  _ **"You can continue to resist, but you cannot continue to triumph. Your pathetic attempt to fight shall be snuffed out. You are but dust struggling against cosmic winds, and now the cosmic winds must become fire."**_  And before he knew it, he heard the familiar glow and sound of a thanix cannon charging.

He only got time to cover his eyes as a tongue of red hot tungsten shot past at hyper velocity, this one the bright orange of Harbinger's personal thanix batteries, the weapon cutting through the balcony like it was made of butter as it just missed Marcus and vaporized the quarian husk before him, the chimera reduced to dust as its body was blown apart at an atomic level by the superheated shell as it blew through Liara's office, cutting through it, neverending, until finally the beam stopped, its carnage ceasing as a massive hole was left, having eaten through Liara's old office, the corridor below it, and the area on the other side.  _Well, at least the Chimera's gone. But why did he miss? Harbinger never misses..._

Suddenly, he heard a loud groan, and he looked below him, hearing further groans, and then cracks, followed by what sounded like metal beams snapping. Harbinger remained unmoving, and all he heard was his squadmates shouting at him to get up as he felt the ground begin to shake, getting lower and lower. His eyes widened.  _He wasn't aiming to kill me..._

The ground then caved in, and he felt himself enter freefall as the floor disappeared and he sored down to meet the ground below, debris falling all around him.

_...he was aiming to seperate him from the squad._

He closed his eyes as the floor below rushed up to meet him.

**{Loading...}**

_June 13, 2186_

_1306 hours._

_Foyer, Business District, Nos Astra, Illium._

_The Reaper War, Unprecedented Reaper Strike: Fall of Illium._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

He woke up to an agonizing darkness. He felt a coppery taste in his mouth, but it mattered nill in the grand scheme of things, eyes trying to open, but feeling as if they were taped shut, his eyes unable to do anything but flutter inside of their prison. His head hurt, as did the rest of his body, and he found himself able to move everything but his right leg. He tried to move it, but his body was unresponsive; the only response he got was a large burst of pain up his spine, convincing him to stop moving as he groaned, the sound seeming...dry. Raspy.

He heard a roar. It sounded synthetic, cybernetic; a deep bass with heavy undertones that was forboding and dark, shaking him to the core. He heard another roar, this one more distant, more primal. A stomp, and the ground shook beneath, but it seemed that it hardly affected him. He groaned again, just as dry as it was before, and it hurt his throat to breathe, like the substance he inhaled was choking him, burning his mouth. He once again struggled to rise, to open his eyes: again, all he got was  _agony_ , pain flaring all around him like a lightning flash, before it was gone again.

A voice echoed in his ear, piercing his deafness, as if its voice demanded priority over the other sounds around him,  _ **"Here you fall, Shepard, weak and deluded. Here you fall, where you are unable to stop our power. Here you fall...powerless against our might. You will be harvested."**_

Suddenly, the ache in his skull became more prominent, almost like a migraine. He grunted, his eyes seeming to release their pressure as he rolled to the side, feeling something crunch under him as his armor crushed it, his hip throbbing as he felt light try to invade the darkness, his face no longer pressed against the marble of the floor. He pried his eyelids open, wincing from the brief sting that resulted from it, realizing he must have torn a few eyelashes. He winced from the sudden burst of light, but quickly adapted as he absorbed his surroundings.

He didn't move, merely looking up. He could see where he had fallen; a hole where he had been standing. He wanted to widen his eyes in shock when he saw just how high he had fallen, but neglected to do so, groaning again as more discomfort flooded his body.  _That balcony...I must have fallen a few hundred feet. How the fuck did I survive that?_  The Business District he remembered was now destroyed; rubble and dust falling in a steady cloud, and he saw what looked to be a piece of someone's spine latched onto a loose cable, their body completed shredded in two and flesh hanging from loose ligaments of cracked bone, their bone seared black. He almost gagged at the sight, turning his eyes away to look around. _Fuck me..._

He had fallen through the roof, finding himself inside what looked to be the main atrium of the building; the Foyer, something the asari seemed fond of. The room was definitely very majestic, smooth and beautiful; all the qualities found in asari architecture. Now the room was a bloodbath; as he looked around, he saw bodies littering the room, blood ranging from red to purple to blue to white coating the floor in thick puddles, all having dried out long ago. The room had looked like the sight of some battle; the walls were riddled with bullet holes, one side of the room had been blown inwards, and a chandalier type object had collapsed from the ceiling and smashed into the ground. He looked, and saw the main entrance; a door that had long been blown off its hinges by invading hordes of Reaper husks.

He looked down on his body, ignoring the lights blaring down on him as he surveyed his body. He had cracked a few ribs, that much was for sure, and he knew he must have done something to his mouth, because he could still taste blood. He felt woozy, and his headache really wasn't helping matters. He cradled it, moving to stand up, but once again, agony lanced up from his right leg, and he howled, looking down.

He almost gagged at the sight of his disjointed leg, bent at an unnatural angle.  _I've broken it. I've broken my fucking leg._ In retrospect, he knew he shouldn't have expected  _not_ to get critical injuries from falling a few hundred feet, but he didn't think the injuries would be so...severe. He was happy he hadn't broken his spine, or else he'd be dead, but that still didn't make it easy. His hands shot down to the throbbing, useless leg, and he realized that his leg was also  _burning,_  not literally, but it felt like it was on fire. He would recognize that feeling anywhere.

 _My regeneration must be taking effect. Its slowly healing my basic injuries, but I need to get this leg fixed by Chakwas and Michel before its healed._ He summoned his omni-tool, imputting the command for painkillers to injected into him, and he became limp again, growling through the quickly disappearing pain as morphine filled his body. The feeling was quite euphoric, and he would have sighed happily at the feeling were it not for his predicament. Suddenly, he seemed to come to realize just where he was and tried to comm Cortez, but there was no luck; not even static showed up. Frowning, he observed his HUD, and found the comms said 'no signal.'

He moved to check his weapons, sighing as he pulled out his Hurricane SMG, only to find the plastic casing warped and twisted from his fall, heat leaking from a ruptured thermal clip inside, and the barrel ruined. He tossed the weapon away and moved to try his mattock when he remembered it had been on his back during the fall; no doubt it suffered even worse. Still, he decided it best to be rid of it in case it did extra damage. He unholstered it, tossing the wrecked casing away, some of it not only having cracked, but some of it had actually split and revealed the dark grey shell underneath. He tried his claymore, but remembered the chimera had swiped it aside; likely disintegrated by Harbinger's beam now.  _Fuck, now I'm defenseless...wait..._

He summoned his omni-tool and selected the icon for his omni-bow, whistling as it worked and came to life. He tried his omni-blade next, then his omni-shield. His omni-tool was in full operation, and so was all its functions. He checked his kinetic barriers, and found them to be working but damaged, and he could only manage 60 percent shields. That was enough, he decided.

He made his next priority to stand up, readying his armor to deploy a flare; it was a backup device in the armor in case communications failed. The flare had an ID marker attached to it with the IFF of the side deploying it, and he had no doubt Cortez would detect the Alliance identifier and come and pick him up. He just hoped the launcher wasn't destroyed; it was on his back.

He moved to stand when Harbinger trespassed upon his mind once more, this time much more prominently, " _ **Shepard, why do you continue to persist? Lay down your life and you shall be ascended to a higher form; you will serve us and you will see the folly of your resistance. You cannot stop the momentum of our arrival. The inertia of our coming. We are unequalled, unparelled. You cannot begin to comprehend us."**_

"So...you've told...me. Still...don't care. So fuck you," he hissed, spitting out whatever blood remained in his mouth that wasn't dry, and turning to his side, looking for something to hoisten him up. He found nothing. He heard footfalls, but when he turned, there was nothing. Frowning, he returned to his work, trying to block out the Reaper leader's response.

 _ **"Your ignorance and arrogance continues to blind you,"**_ the beast boomed, unmoved by Marcus' words as it always seemed to be. The Illusive Man was immeasurable calm, while Harbinger was just muted anger,  _ **"The cycles before you fell; they also were blind and could not see the inevitability of their destruction. We were their salvation through destruction, just as we are during this cycle. You will be harvested, despite your refusal to acknowledge our victory. You will watch as the rest of your civilization burns around you, and you will have helped in its fall."**_

"If you still...think you can...convince me..." he growled, dragging himself along the ruined floor to a steel pipe he could use as a temporary crutch, armor scraping loudly as it overruled the sound of approaching feet behind him, "You haven't been...paying attention. I...will end you. These cycles...have gone on...long enough. Not...this one. No, not this...one..."

 _ **"We will hear no more. Your fate is sealed,"**_ Harbinger dictated,  _ **"You will serve us, Shepard. You will be our servant. Our boon. Our adjutant. You will lead just as Arterius did, and when your usefulness has concluded, you will ascend to Reaper form. Serve us, Shepard. It is your destiny."**_

"There is no...fate...but of that which...we make...for ourselves..." he blurted, almost reaching the pipe ahead of him. He didn't like what the Reaper hinted at in its voice, but he pressed onwards, ignoring it. For some reason, he felt its presence like it was looming over him, but he shook the feeling as he pressed on. Suddenly however, the pipe infront of him was crushed by a large fist and he jumped, looking up as he began to back away.

A brute towered over him, eyes blank as always and leering at him as it simply stood vigil, looking down at him. But for a reason he couldn't discern, it made no movements to try and kill him; it simply stood there, glaring at him, as if daring him to make a move.

 _ **"Ignorance born of atheistic intepretation,"**_ was the Reaper's bored response,  _ **"But you will serve us, Shepard. Assuming direct control!"**_ It boomed, and suddenly the brute's eyes glowed bright orange, its entire body wreathing in its light as Marcus was reminded of the Collectors. But even possessed, the brute did not move.  _ **"Your intervention ends here, Shepard. Today...you will be ours."**_

He felt a three-toed foot press into his back, metallic claws digging into it. He turned slightly and managed to catch a view of a marauder's face in his peripherals, but nothing else, and as he looked around, he saw two more marauders, dozens of cannibals, another brute, a few scions, hundreds of husks and abominations and three praetorians surrounded him, all standing in a tight circle as they looked at him, unmoving. Only two marauders seemed to stand next to him, and the brute. He gulped, looking around him.  _Fuck, I'm bloody surrounded. What the fuck do I do? How the fuck do I get out of this? Shit, think, goddamn it, think! There has to be a way!_

But everywhere he looked, all he saw was Reaper foot soldiers, legions of them standing around him, cutting off any escape.  _And with a broken right leg, I can't exactly fight my way out; even if I could, there's too many of them. I'd be overwhelmed. But why aren't they attacking? Why don't they just maul me for godsake?_

"Well?" he shouted, looking at the creatures, but if Harbinger made any effort to respond, it was unheard. He growled, shouting louder, "WELL!? KILL ME ALREADY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" There was a shuffle behind the line, but they still made no moves to charge. He scanned them, incredulous. But before he could speak again, the line broke, and another praetorian appeared, carrying a large bulky device that made Marcus' heart leap into his throat.

It was carrying another dragon's tooth.

Still carrying it under its bulk, it turned upwards and dropped it, the device landing perfectly on all three of its legs and coming to a standstill, spike lowered but the device humming in readiness. He shuffled, trying to crawl back as he looked around in fear and confusion, but the marauders latched onto his arms, holding him firm. He tried to escape their grip, but it was powerful and before he knew it, a pulse went through his arm, overloading his omni-tool and disabling it. He tried out from the shock and continued to struggle, but nothing worked. The possessed brute came to stand before him, its shadow casting darkness over his features as he looked up, pure trepidation in his eyes as he refused to accept what the Reaper was about to confirm.

 _ **"This is your destiny, Shepard,"**_ the Reaper stated,  _ **"You will serve us. You will be ours, as you already are."**_

 _You will be ours, as you already are._ He wanted to scream, but found he couldn't as the brute stepped out of the way, the two marauders flanking him began to drag him forwards and towards the tooth...

...ready to convert him into a husk.

He kicked and struggled, but all it did was cause more pain in his broken limb and for his ribs to flare, and he felt hot tears form in his eyes as he tried desperately to escape; headbutt them, kick them, punch them,  _anything._

 _I can't die like this! I won't serve them! I won't! I will not become one of those...things! Please, God no! I can't go out like this! No, please!_ He found himself actually screaming at the unfairness of his eventual death, but the husks did not listen or acknowledge him, and merely watched as he was dragged to his death. As he was brought close enough to the dragon's tooth to touch it, he felt himself stop struggling, and just look at it in defeat, holding back a sob. No, he would not give them that benefit. He would not show them his fear. But he did let his tears flow free, hot, salty water trailing down his cheeks.  _Please...no...Tali..._

 _"Till death do us part,"_ were her words.

_I want to see her again! I can't die like this! Its not my time! I'm not ready to die! Not like this..._

He felt the marauder's begin to lift him ontop of the object, and his body went numb, succumbing to his fate.  _I'm sorry...I just hope they don't recognize me...otherwise they'll never be able to put me down...and Tali...oh Tali..._

_I love you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry I had to go off and die like this._

It was trap, it always was. This is why Harbinger attacked Illium, and he knew it.  _All just so he could break me and convert me into his little toy. Nothing but a pathetic husk who claws things; mindless, frail and dead. A literal husk of what I was._

He watched as the metal got closer and closer, and he felt the cool surface beckoning to him. With his final thoughts, he felt oddly...content.  _Well...it can't be that bad..._

_Serve us, Shepard._

_Serve us._

_Serve us._

_Serve us._

_Serve us._

_Serve us._

He felt himself meeting the metal alot faster than he thought, and his helmet knocked against the object as he slumped back onto the ground. His vision returned instantly, his content replaced with fear, and then confusion, the voices vanishing from his head. He blinked, turning around as he rolled onto his back.  _What the-_

He turned in time to see one of his marauder captors collapse to the ground, its arm totally severed along with its right eye socket blown open, both leaking black ichor onto the ground. The second marauder screeched in defiance, whirling to face its attackers, only for electricity to wrack its body as it spasmed, its rifle falling from its grip as it jerked.

The marauder, still jerking, quickly found its head blasted off by a hot beam of light, the particle rifle chewing through like melting chocolate as it fell to the ground in a pile of liquid iron armor plating. He didn't know what was going on for certain, but he had a feeling he did.  _They've come for me. I'm not going to die here! I won't!_

He rolled back onto his belly and began dragging himself along towards the source of the gunfire, looking up to observe the carnage as he heard a loud explosion. Looking up, he watched the shredded remains of husks, cannibals and abominations go flying like torn paper, flesh raining from the sky in thick rivlets. Another explosion sounded, tearing apart another hole and tearing an entire line of scions into bloody ribbons. He laughed maniacally as he watched, bathing in the sight of legions of Reaper soldiers being blown to smithereens.

Suddenly, his ears seemed to explode with noise, Harbinger roaring into his ears; he swore he heard...anger? Fury? No. What he heard was much more terrifying.  _Rage. Reaper rage._ Harbinger was pissed off.

 _ **"YOU WILL SUBMIT! ALL OF YOU, PATHETIC SPECS OF DUST AND MATTER!"**_ Harbinger screamed, pure unhinged fury sweeping through his ears and sending him into a spasm as his eardrums were assaulted, " _ **THERE IS NOWHERE YOU CAN HIDE WHERE WE WILL NOT FIND YOU! YOU ARE OURS! YOU ARE**_ _ **MINE!**_ _ **ACCEPT YOUR FATE AS ARTERIUS HAS BEFORE YOU! SUBMIT!**_ _ **SUBMIT!"**_

Despite the fury he felt, Marcus could only grin triumphantly.  _I managed to infuriate a Reaper, and their leader at that. I have to be doing something right._ Suddenly, he felt a familiar shadow loom over him, and turned to see the possessed brute towering above-

-only to have its upper body shredded to pieces by a loud whine, bullets moving at a constant speed at 500 m/s tearing into the brute's heavy armor and ripping it asunder. The brute roared in anger and tried to push forward, but a concussion shot blew it back, and the assault finally tore its tiny turian head apart, downing the savage creature, coming to rest with a resounding thud. The whine stopped, but continued again as it seemed to get closer, and closer...

He heard voices, muffled but intelligible, "Help me get him up!" he heard a curse, "Shit, he's broken his leg! Wrex, we need you to help-"

"Forget that pyjak. There's no time," he heard the krogan respond and suddenly Marcus was in the air and tossed over the krogan's shoulder, his vision filled with red armor as his helmet banged against the krogan's back. He shook his head, looking up to see what was happening.

Garrus was at Wrex's side, shouting orders to the squad. James stood nearby, holding in his grip a massive looking heavy machine gun that he had lowered to his waist to hip fire, the weapon absolutely tearing apart everything around him, husks, brutes, all of it. As he squinted his eyes, he smiled.  _No, not a heavy machine gun. A_ _ **minigun.**_ _Good, old fashioned, high-caliber, multi-round spitting, high-speed destruction._

"Let's get out of here, pyjaks! Same way we came, but Javik, you better leave me some kills!" Wrex roared, and he heard Javik laugh in agreement. He suddenly felt the krogan rush forward, and he felt his body jolt and jump with every krogan's footfall, but he knew he was getting closer to escape with every one. The rest of the squad followed behind, taking out numerous scores of husks on their path to freedom. He could see Kasumi and EDI covering James' back, and Keeling was using herself as a shield to shield him from enemy return fire.  _All of them...going to these lengths to save me...am I even worth that kind of devotion?_

_Serve us._

He shouted that voice out, feeling light-headed when he did; why did that voice bring him such pleasure? Why did he yearn to hear it again?

He felt light on his back as Wrex exited the building, coming outside as the rest of the squad joined him, James taking up the rear as he sprayed the entrance with a tornado of high-powered death, killing even more husks in his frenzy.

He heard a thunderous crash, followed by the boom of a building's supports shattering as it came to crash nearby. Dust and smoke kicked up in the air as they were covered, all of them coughing and sputtering. They only recovered in time to hear a loud roar, the sound of a Reaper airhorn.

 _ **"SUBMIT AND END YOUR PAIN!"**_ Harbinger growled from above,  _ **"SURRENDER YOURSELF AND BE ONE WITH SOLITUDE!"**_

"Let...me see..." Marcus ordered, tapping Wrex's shoulder, "Let...me see, damn it!" He coughed, dust entering his lungs as he gagged, and the krogan complied, turning him over so he fell into his arms, allowing him to look up. In that instant, his shoulder slooped, as he was sure was happening with the rest of his team.

There stood Harbinger, six kilometers tall, glaring down upon them with its four, yellow eyes, fury in their depths and looking condescendingly on them as it viewed them, nothing but insects to its size and might. Microbes. Behind it was a path of destruction; buildings toppled and decimated, dust and smoke rising into the darkened sky, fires crackling and death reeking the place like a death cloud.

"Spirits..." Garrus gulped, "Cortez, pick up, now!"

_Its no use..._

"Harbinger," Javik hissed, "It is just as big as the last cycle."

_...he'll just shoot us down..._

He heard the roar of Cortez's shuttle, the sound overwhelmed by the sound of Harbinger's airhorn as he watched it shuffle slightly, one leg flinching, prepared to move as the kodiak lowered, engines igniting as it prepared to hover. He heard James shout, minigun clicking empty as he dropped it, slamming into the ground with a loud crash as he ran to join them, "Garrus, we need to leave! I'm out of ammo and we-" he looked up, eyes widening as the hand reaching for his Revenant dropped to his side, seeing just how useless and puny such a weapon would be against such might, " _Dios mio..._ "

"Cortez, step on it!" Garrus shouted desperately.

He didn't hear Cortez's response, but apparently Garrus didn't like it as he snarled, "Harbinger is fucking  _standing right here._  If you don't hurry up, he'll-"

Garrus' interrupted assumption was made quite clear when Harbinger's underside began to glow bright orange, only needing one of his thanix batteries to be charged to decimate them.  _But he won't...he'll kill them...and leave me alive..._

 _ **"You will be ours, Shepard,"**_ Harbinger spoke, his voice seeming to be alot lower this time and less angry, as if more certain of victory now,  _ **"As a consequence for your futile resistance, you will now watch what you call your friends, your comrades, your fellow organics, burn and wither and atomize. You will smell their sizzling flesh, and then you will serve us. Serve us."**_

_Serve us._

_Serve us._

_**Serve us.** _

"NO!" he roared, cradling his head as he shouted defiance at the towering monster, "NEVER! I WILL NOT SUBMIT!"

"Shepard?" Garrus asked, confused, "What are you talking about?"

He turned to Garrus, ignoring his question, "Run! Get back inside! RUN! HE'S GOING TO FIRE!"

The turian widened his eyes, turning to the rest of the squad, "Fall back insi-"

They were too late, forced to watch as Harbinger's thanix gave a loud report, thin beam of orange tungsten shooting forward to reduce them to bloodied atoms...

...only for it to completely miss and fire in a wide arc, beam of light shooting off to the side and cutting through the foyer behind them, collapsing it as it crushed the rest of the husks inside. The beam continued its arc, scything through a building on the left and then stopping at a third one, completely gutting all three. Marcus didn't even notice it stop, he could only grin as he watched the blue light finish its attack, vapor and debris shooting off from the impact site.

While the Normandy's thanix shot hadn't even penetrated Harbinger's shield, it had left scoring on its side, and Harbinger tilted slightly as the frigate flew past, Joker no doubt shouting victory. By that time, Wrex was already rushing into the parked shuttle, using Harbinger's distraction to board it and escape. He felt himself suddenly dumped unceremoniously in a seat, feeling the shuttle's engines immediately fire up and the vehicle shoot up into the air, moving past the turning Harbinger. The Reaper hadn't even realized they were gone until they were already in atmo, disappearing behind the clouds.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to look at Garrus as he felt something poke into his neck, "You're going to be okay, Marcus. Just hang in there..."

"What did you..." he felt woozy, and realized he had been sedated, "No! You can't! You...don't...please...don't make me...sslleeeepppp..." but it was useless, and the darkness quickly consumed him.

_I don't want to sleep. Don't make me sleep._

For only nightmares awaited him.

**{Loading...}**

_They were too late, forced to watch as Harbinger's thanix gave a loud report, thin beam of orange tungsten shooting forward to reduce them to bloodied atoms..._

_...the beam hit, cutting through the ground as his squad disappeared. The high-velocity shell completely evicerated their bodies, reducing them to tiny chunks of meat as they were torn apart, bone splintering into debris and muscle vaporizing as he watched. Only he was left, along with the krogan who held him. They were gone, just gone. He roared in anguish, tears stinging his eyelids as he watched his friends, his turian brother, reduced to a pulpy, steaming mass of debris on a wall. Nothing was left of them; not even a spot of blood._

_Wrex grunted as he turned, Marcus still in his arms, growling as a husk nipped at his ankle, disembodied from its legs and crawling. Wrex smashed its skull with his foot, splintering it open. But the attack did not stop; more husks emerged, all human, and they came in a steady stream. After about three kills, Wrex gave up killing them and retreated into a nearby building, and he could only hear Harbinger's taunting words echoing in his ears._

_**Serve us.** _

_**Serve us.** _

_**Serve us.** _

_"I can't continue to carry you. I need to fight them off," the krogan declared, placing him down behind a piece of concrete._

_He shook his head, groaning as he felt his head placed against the hard surface, "No..." he rasped, "Don't go. You'll die...don't go Wrex! DON'T GO!"_

_The krogan ignored him as he ran around the corner, disappearing from sight and giving a tremendous roar as he listened to him engage the husks in battle. Like a pathetic, mewling, terrified infant, he wept, growling as he tried to chain his emotions as he listened to Wrex's war cries become more strangled. He felt something thump against the concrete behind him, and he felt his tears mix in with orange blood...Wait, mix in..._

_His hands shot to his face, cold metal meeting his face. His helmet was missing. He felt the thick, orange coating trickle down his face, Marcus steadiy looking up as he gazed into Wrex's eyes, his head hanging off a torn spine and blood red eyes dead and blank. He felt himself scream, but no sound came out, and he barely felt the taste of the orange blood dripping into his mouth. He moved to crawl away, pushing away dirt and debris as he tried. He didn't get very far before a familiar figure towered over him, and he was once again being dragged by two marauders towards a dragon's tooth, kicking and roaring._

_He clenched his eyes shut as he watched the object come into view, intimidating despite not being fully deployed. He tried one last time to escape, but he was already there, and before he knew it, he was over it, and being lowered. He felt the cool metal push against his stomach, not even bothering to look down as he knew his armor had also mysteriously vanished. It pressed against his belly, and he could only look at the ground as he heard a triumphant roar in the background._

_**You are ours.** _

_A sharp stab of pain, of agony, his body elevating into the air rapidly as all air seemed to be stolen from his lungs, his heart stopping and eyes rolling into the back of his head as he jolted, having reached the top. He didn't even feel what followed as he blacked out._

He screamed, sitting up from the toilet. He shook his head, rubbing at his tired eyes as he came to stand, moving to the sink. He sighed, the sound raspy and dry-throated, and he didn't feel okay. He growled, shaking his head again, but he still felt...paranormal. Like he wasn't himself. He shook the feeling and turned on the cold water tap, splashing it against his face multiple times before looking up into the mirror.

He stared back at the husk that glared back at him, mouth full of rotted teeth, non-existent lips and mindless, blue eyes, cheeks and skin crafted of pale grey, dead skin. Cybernetics lined his face, as the water dripped off of it in a thick rivulet, rippling against the sink. He tried to widen his eyes, but found he couldn't.

All he could do was scream.

**{Loading...}**

_June 13, 2186_

_1548 hours._

_Medical Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

His eyes shot open, eying the ceiling, the blinding light almost damaging his eyes as he lay there, quinting. He gripped the sheets tightly, and he heard voices in the background, shaking his head to get rid of the lingering thoughts in his head.  _What the hell was that?_  He continued to stare up at the ceiling, trying to recognize what he was looking at. Suddenly, the sterile white wall came into crystal clarity, and he nodded, knowing here he was. He was in the Med Bay, back on the Normandy.  _We didn't die on Illium. I didn't become a husk. My crew saved me. We escaped Harbinger._

_Serve us._

It was like a whisper lingering at the back of his mind and he gritted his teeth at its unpermitted entry, mentally swatting it away like an annoying insect. But there was new voices joining it, but these ones weren't in his mind; they were entering his ears externally.

He sat up suddenly, and immediately regretted it as his ribcage flared up, worse than before. He felt a hand shove him back onto the bed, head hitting the pillow as he heard the voice scold him, this one feminine. He recognized it as Chakwas', and he heard chattering in the background that had to be Michel.  _I need to get moving...there's a war to be won..._

His hearing suddenly returned to him, his ears popping as the doctor's bandying of words became crystal clear, "-telling you Michel, he's not ready to start moving. He's suffered some pretty horrific injuries."

"He's loaded with cybernetics that have been fixing his body for the past three hours," Michel retorted, "I think we can dismiss him, while limiting him to a couple days light work." Marcus was surprised and shocked at that.  _Three hours!? I need to get up. Right now._ He tried to get back up again, but found himself pushed back down, Chakwas eying him with a cold glare.

"You sit back down, mister! You are not ready to return to duty just yet, and I don't care what Michel says!"

"He's more than capable," Michel insisted, waving a hand at his form, "He's healed sufficiently to walk. And like I said, all he would do is light work."

"You don't know him like I do, Michel," Chakwas remarked, and he swore he saw a hint of a smile on her lips before it was gone, "The stubborn fool would be immediately back on the battlefield the next day. No, no 'light work' for him. He's staying until he's completely healed."

"I think I'll speak for myself," Marcus declared, coming to sit up again, but holding up a hand to halt Chakwas' putting him down.

"You're a patient. You do not get a voice in this," Chakwas stated forcefully, crossing her arms, "You had three cracked ribs, a broken leg, a large migraine, a head fracture, two teeth missing, a bitten tongue and alot of back bruises. You're lucky we're in the 22nd Century, or you'd be a cripple at this point; a battered wreck. I was barely able to heal you as it is."

"Yes, but the patient is the captain," Marcus straightened out, wagging a finger between them, "Now, we're at bloody war. I can't afford to just lounge around when I'm perfectly fine to walk around. There's work to be done, and it's not going to be done just lying here."

"Let someone else do it for a change. Just for a while," Chakwas forlornly suggested, as if begging him to rest, "You've been going about these things like a robot, and it's not healthy. You need rest. Just rest..."

"Do you think the galaxy gets to rest? Do you think Anderson gets to sleep peacefully?" he growled, glaring at her. Seeing her silence, he nodded, "Exactly. There will be no rest until the Reapers are destroyed. Until Cerberus is dust. No rest, no mercy, no lying down. We fight or we die, Chakwas. I've been saying it for days, and you know it's true. We cannot afford to fuck around while the Reapers burn our worlds. No more. There will be no rest until I can afford it, Karin."

She sighed, "You're being too hard on yourself-"

"...not hard enough," Marcus snapped, swinging so that his legs hung off the side of the bed, "Anything less than my best is atrocious. Not good enough. Innocent people are dying out there while you suggest I 'rest.' Do they? In death maybe, but in life? No, they are constantly on the run. What does that say about me if I just lie here and let everyone else do the work? No, that's not good enough. We fight or we die. That's the plan I'm following."

"You're going to burn yourself out," she stated, "You'll-"

"They almost turned me into a husk today. I was weak, and they took advantage of that. Harbinger almost got in," he snarled, almost pushing Chakwas aside as he stood, realizing he was in his civvies as he stood, barefoot, on the cold, sterile floor, "But he will not get another chance: I will not give them another opening. It will not happen. It won't. It can't."

"You're weak due to a lack of-"

"No more Karin. None," he sternly stated, "I will not hear anymore on the topic. I've made my choice, and there is no other choice here. The Reapers have to be stopped or noone will get any 'rest.'"  _Serve us. Serve us. Serve us._ He felt the urge to shove Chakwas aside, but he got rid of that thought, surprised at his own violent thoughts.  _Stop that, Shepard. What the hell is wrong with you? Cut it out._ He turned to the doctor, deciding to make a hasty retreat before he did something foolish, "I'll be in the War Room if anyone needs me." And with that, he made a hasty retreat, moving through the doors and heading straight for the elevator. Chakwas and Michel could only exchange glances before sighing and returning to work.

He reached the elevator and leaned against it, his breathing quickening as a familiar whisper returned.  _You are ours. You are ours. Serve us. Serve us. Serve us._ He gritted his teeth and gave a low growl, trying to force the voice out. But it persisted, increasing in pitch before suddenly stopping, leaving him with a throbbing headache.  _What...the...fuck. Maybe I should ask Chakwas for-_

_No, none of that soldier. No weakness. No surrender. You will soldier on, you're an N7, act like it. You will not be crippled by a simple headache._

"Are you okay, Captain?" he heard Gardner's voice from behind him, and he didn't even register the cook as he headed for the elevator, turning and entering it.

"I'm fine." He hit the button for the CIC, and he backed up until his back hit the wall, bringing his breathing back under control. He sighed, closing his eyes as he gulped slightly.  _What the hell is going on? What is with these voices?_

_A remnant of the dream, surely. Harbinger must have affected me more than I thought._

He decided to not let it affect him further.

**"Moving on. Just what occurred after the Illium incident?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"You don't have to continue if you don't want to, Marcus."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Yes he does! Prometheus needs this info if we are to-"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Enough! I will not have my husband put through anymore-"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Its okay. Really. What happened obviously happened seventy years ago. It doesn't affect me anymore. I'm okay to continue."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Are you sure,** _**k'sesh?** _ **"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"I'm sure,** _**k'sesh** _ **."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Then do continue."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Next, we headed for the Citadel. But we took a detour to Tuchanka, reasons of which would quickly become known."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**K'sesh: Khelish word. Literal Translation: Exact translation unknown, although it is used in a similiar context to endearing, loving words such as sweetheart, love, or honey.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Quite dramatic, mmm eh?** _

_**Next chapter, as hinted, is on Tuchanka, so, naturally...we're going to do the rachni mission. Just kidding, no, its time for Tarquin. I know I said Utukku was next (or at least hinted at it), but I realized an incosistency in the timeline, and it took them three days to get to Illium from the Citadel (June 10 to 13) and it would take three days to get back (June 13 to 16). As we know, Tarquin is heading for the bomb by June 16, and is close to reaching it. So it made more sense for that to happen first. So, yeah...turian bomb mission is up next.** _

_**Final exam my friends! Then it'll be the holidays, and I can hopefully pump out these chapters more periodically. Might even get to reuniting Shepard and Tali, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves. Let's see how it plays out.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	20. Victory At Any Cost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Primarch Victus asks Shepard to help his son, Tarquin, on an extremely important mission on Tuchanka. The crew soon find out why its so important.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:**

**VICTORY AT ANY COST**

_June 14, 2186_

_1830 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Primarch Adrien Victus._

The hum of the engines was persistent, and it reverbrated throughout the ship like a constant vibration. This sound was omnipotent; present throughout the ship on a daily basis. The same subtle hum; the same sound that breathed life into the magnificent vessel. It was a pity that such a peaceful sound had to be present aboard a not so peacefully designed ship; a ship designed for war and combat and destruction.

For one man, that sound was no consolation for what he was going through.

For the other man, he didn't even take notice of it. There was only one whisper he craved, and it wasn't present; it only made its descent into his consciousness when he closed his eyes to think. It refused to leave him, stuck to his mind like a persistent parasite. And for reasons he didn't understand, he didn't  _want_ it to go away.

Fortunately for him, someone had a problem to dump on him. A turian man, leader of his entire people, braced over the War Room table and looking blankly at a list of data before him on the terminal provided. There was no flinch in his stance, not even a twitch. He just gazed at it, as if trying to come to grips with the information presented. He stood there in his blue uniform, Primarch of the Hierarchy, frozen in a picture of perfect turian stoicism, but for the wrong reasons.

He stood behind him, having been called down by the Primarch himself, apparently wanting a word with him; he just hoped Wrex wasn't causing any trouble.  _I sincerely hope he isn't. Wrex isn't the one to brew trouble unnecessarily, but if he has upset Victus in some way...damn it, focus on the task soldier._ He stood straighter, hands clasped behind his back and cleared his throat.

Victus turned to him slowly, meeting his eyes. After acknowledging the spectre's presence, he turned back to his terminal and shut it off, sighing as he turned to face Marcus, blank expression now expressing solemn calm, his own hands behind his back and clasped tightly, mandibles ever so slightly twitching, "Captain, I thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I hear we will reach the Citadel in two days."

Marcus nodded, "We'll need to drop Aethyta off and give the report to the Council; tell them that the Terminus Systems have now tasted their first engagement with the Reapers; the whole galaxy is at war now. Aria will want to know as well," he stated, swallowing to get rid of the lump forming in his throat, "Any further action on our part afterwards will be purely based on what information we get."

Victus nodded, gulping, "Good. Captain, I asked you down here for a reason, and I need your help urgently. I have a favor to ask, and its one you're going to want to hear. It could endanger my people's alliance with the krogan if it is not dealt with."

Marcus suddenly became alot more attentive than he was before, eyes narrowing, "If you have intel vital to the war effort Victus, you better come clean. Don't bat the bush."

"An interesting human expression," Victus noted, nodding when he nodded Marcus' raised eyebrow, "And its not war intel as such, rather than an important mission. We...the Hierarchy sent a platoon of black watch soldiers on a corvette called the Educated Foresight. It was sent on a mission to Tuchanka, but all telemetry from the ship went dark; its IFF has stopped pinging, and its marked as destroyed. We believe it might have been shot down, but its crew may have survived," Victus tried to cover it up, but Marcus knew the hidden concern in his eyes. He must have had a personal stake in this, "Their mission is of absolute importance, Captain. It is crucial they are found and aided in completing it, or if they...they are dead..." he gulped, suddenly looking very troubled, "Then we must finish it."

Marcus sighed, shaking his head as he swallowed, "I have many questions Primarch, and one of them involves what the  _hell_  a turian corvette was doing headed for Tuchanka. What kind of mission would compel you to send a warship onto the krogan homeworld, especially when we're in the middle of forming a truce? What kind of idiotic decision was that? Do you realize what could happen if Wrex gets wind of this?"

"Their mission is of absolute secrecy and total necessity. Unfortunately, it is classified and I cannot devulge that information to you," Victus explained.

"With all due respect Primarch, you can halt with that classified horseshit," Marcus clipped, waving a dismissive hand, "I'm not going to rescue anyone from anywhere if I don't know the circumstances of what we are facing. I don't want to deploy down there only to find myself in the middle of a shitstorm."

"I understand Captain, but I cannot tell you. Please trust me on this," Victus explained, "I know what it feels like to be sent in with little intel and for seemingly unknown purposes, but this comes from the top. I cannot-"

"You're the fucking  _Primarch_ ," Marcus growled, moving until he was beside the table and glaring straight into Victus' eyes, "You  _make_ the rules. I don't care what some hierarch said, or what some field-chair general ordered, I don't care. I want to know  _right now_ what you want me to walk into before I agree to anything. I don't give a shit how important it is; I want to know why its so important. And I want to know why the thought of losing them bothers you so much."

The turian frowned, "Bothers me? Of course it bothers me! Those a turian soldiers on krogan soil! They could be dead, their mission incomplete! It would be devastating for Palaven if they failed, and would mean death for-"

Marcus shook his head, "Don't give me that, Victus; I'm not as dense as you might think. I saw that look in your eyes; the concern, the worry. I've only seen that look in the eyes of soldiers who are afraid of losing loved ones...family," he narrowed his eyes and then he widened them, coming to a realization, "You have a son who is part of that platoon, don't you?"

"My only son, and the only family I have left after my wife's death," he sighed melancholy, "His name is Tarquin. He's a lieutenant and he's in command of that platoon. I don't know if he's dead or not, but that's not what worries me. This mission is reliant on his success, and failure is simply not an option; failure would cripple the war effort and the UGC as we know it," he turned back to the table, bracing against it once more as he looked over the holographic surface, dormant but glowing, "There are...consequences for the failure of a battle commander for failing to complete an important mission in the Hierarchy. For a son of an ArchGeneral, it means dishonorable discharge, a badge of shame, and to be kicked from the military, condemned to the lowest jobs Palaven have to offer. For the son of a Primarch, the consequence is far worse."

"What?" Marcus asked, "What happens if he fails as a Primarch's son."

"Execution," Victus quickly answered, leaving the air lingering in silence. After a second, he elaborated, "He'll be trialed, sentenced and executed via firing squad. And...and I'm supposed to issue the order. Do you know what that's like? It's a punishment for both father and son. The son gets executed, and the father effectively pulls the trigger," he growled, gripping the metal harder, "He cannot fail. But my son is a capable soldier, and I know he'll make me proud. But its clear he can't do it alone anymore. Not with just a platoon and no ship. Even special forces won't last long if the Reapers have landed on Tuchanka."

"Which is where I come in," Marcus stated, narrowing his eyes again, "But I still don't know what I'm getting into..."

"I can't-"

"Cut the shit and just fucking tell me," Marcus snapped, sick of these games, "Stop this shit and just tell me straight. I won't risk my men or my crew to save your boy and complete a mission we don't know the circumstances to in what could be deep in Reaper territory. For all I know, I could be helping detonate a nuclear bomb in the Urdnot Camp, and that's definitely not happening."

"Not detonating, no..." Victus replied, finally caving in as he stood straighter, closing his eyes, "The Foresight's mission was to locate and disarm a bomb they found in the Trisek'lok City Ruins. Its absolutely necessary its detonation sequence is stopped."

"Why?" Marcus asked nonchatantly, "I mean, even if it was a 100 megaton nuclear warhead, its still too far away to hurt anyone."

"That's the point. It is not a nuclear weapon; it's not of any weapon we have," Victus stated, "Its a Reaper bomb. We don't understand its design, but we cannot take any chances and knowing Reaper technology, we have no idea what its capabilities are. It could be a planet destroyer for all we know, and we don't need that to happen. And if it does cause that kind of damage, that'll leave the krogan gone. If it doesn't and leaves them alive? They'll inevitably connect the dots and believe it was us who planted the bomb to stop the cure of the genophage. They'll fight us..."

"...instead of the Reapers," Marcus finished, nodding, "They want us fighting each other, and Cerberus isn't enough. They're hoping to boil old hatreds so that we'll take care of each other. Clever bastards," he growled, nodding as he turned to face Victus, "Its clear that this bomb is a present threat we can recognize. Dealing it, not so much. My wif-my combat engineer isn't exactly present, and as much as I believe in Keeling, she's only trained in basic EOD; I can't put her in a situation where she has to disarm a Reaper weapon."

"Tarquin already had an engineer on his team, but having a second in case that engineer is dead would help," Victus replied, "Which is why I recommend-"

"Garrus," Marcus finished for him again, smiling slightly, "That bastard never stops calibrating our thanix cannon, and he's quite proficient in weapons tech, I think he'll make a great EOD specialist," he looked up, "EDI, change of plan. Get us to Tuchanka, and double time it. I want the whole squad in the War Room," he stopped, gritting his teeth before shaking his head, deciding he'd include Wrex.

A few moments later, the AI replied, "The squad has been informed and course has been changed. ETA is two days."

Without acknowledging the AI, he turned back to Victus, pursing his lips as he contemplated. When he was done, he let out a breath of air, looking at the Primarch who stood stoically beside him, "I know you've just committed treason by telling me what's going on here, Primarch, but I promise; noone will know. And if they find out, just say I beat it out of you."

That actually got a smile out of the turian, and he shook his head, scoffing, "I'm a turian; I'm supposed to be tough as nails. Nothing can break us."

"I'll send them a card saying 'we all break at some point,'" he grinned, lightening the mood, "But seriously, just don't say anything. I just needed to know the terms of what's going on. This sounds pretty serious; a Reaper bomb and your son is involved. Seems pretty intense, huh?"

"My son is an excellent soldier. He's done the Hierarchy proud, and done great honor to me and himself," he sighed, "But I can't help but feel this mission is out of his league. We're talking about an entire world of millions, Captain. If that Reaper bomb goes off...we have no idea what it does or what it'll do. We don't even know if it's a bomb; it could be another Reaper or something else entirely. We just don't know, and that scares me. We sent my son in with no intel as well aside from he had to disarm a bomb. After that, he got next to nothing in regards to intel."

Marcus got up, patting the man's shoulder, "We'll get your son out alive and stop that bomb, Victus. That's all you need to worry about. I will not have the Reapers stopping this alliance."

There was still a look of regret in the man's eyes that Marcus couldn't understand but the turian did well to hide it, giving a weak smile, "I admire your peserverence Captain. Many of my people could learn from you."

Marcus lost his smile, shaking his head, "No, they'd learn alot from you."

Marcus had a feeling this mission was going to be alot more difficult than a simple EOD.

**{Loading...}**

_June 15, 2186_

_1608 hours._

_Tech Lab, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for Tuchanka, Aralakh System, Krogan DMZ Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Professor Mordin Solus, Eve._

The last thing Marcus expected to walk in on was Mordin giving dating suggestions to a krogan. Especially Eve. When he entered the Tech Lab, he found the female krogan sitting up, legs crossed and on the edge of the bed, omni-tool hovering over her as Mordin ran scans of her body, talking as he did, a little grin on his face.

"Aware krogan females find scars attractive. Garrus loyal. Reasonably intelligent. Bit aggressive. Just like krogan."

Marcus had to suppress a laugh as he approached the two of them.  _Mordin cannot be serious. Besides, I don't think Garrus would take kindly to Mordin trying to make him date a female krogan._  He smiled when a certain thought reached his mind.  _Besides, pretty sure Wrex has got his eyes set on her..._

Eve growled, sighing irritably as she replied with finality in her voice, sound exasperated, suggesting that the salarian had been subjecting her to his treatment for quite a bit now, "For the third time Mordin, I'm not interested!"

Mordin shook his head, shrugging as he brought his omni-tool down to observe the data he had collected, only to look back up as Marcus joined his side, the salarian smirking slightly as he addressed the captain, "Ah, Shepard! We were just-"

The door opened, all three pairs of eyes turned to watch the hulking tank of a krogan named Urdnot Wrex come moving through the door, the threat in his posture concealed as he nodded at Marcus, seemingly ignoring Mordin as he approached Eve's bedside. When he had reached her, he placed a three-fingered hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?" There was worry in his voice, and this only reinforced Marcus' opinion; Wrex wanted Eve, even if alot of the concern was purely on her being the only hope for curing his people's plight.

"I'm fine Wrex," Eve replied, her response more cool and less hostile and suspicious since he last spoke to her, "You can relax."

"You can't be too careful," Wrex warned, shooting a suspicious glare in Mordin's direction, who just seemed to ignore him or take any notice, "...or put any faith in  _salarian_ doctors."

"This one's...different," Eve responded, her voice sounding measured and sure. Mordin, seemingly oblivious to what the topic was on, moved forward and produced a syringe, quickly finding a vein on Eve's skin and sliding the needle inside, drawing enough orange blood before drawing it back and examining it, removing the vial and placing it in his labcoat pocket.

Wrex looked shocked, turning to look at Eve, "Is he?" he noticed the vial Mordin put in his pocket and growled, "What's that?"

"Simple blood test. Similiar to yours. Needed one from Eve," the salarian explained without even looking at the krogan, "Need sample to begin final preparations for cure." Without even acknowledging Wrex or Eve, he turned to head back for his desk, talking as he did, "Shepard, please, distractions counterproductive. Also affecting comfort of patient." Before he knew it, the salarian was back behind his desk and had taken out the vial, placing it on the desktop before crouching behind his desk, fumbling around for something underneath.

Marcus shook his head, turning to face Wrex, who still didn't buy it. He sighed, rising a hand and squeezing the krogan's armoured shoulder, "He was your inside source, Wrex. You can trust him," he stated, shrugging, "And if that isn't enough, then trust me. He fought alongside me and I trust him. Mordin's a good man, and he's finally found a new side of his moral compass; let him have this. If there's anyone who will cure the genophage, its Mordin. Trust me on this, Wrex."

"Who says I don't trust you with everything?" Wrex grinned, smacking him on the back, "I trust you, Shepard. And in that case, I trust Solus as well."

They could hear Mordin's reply without even needing to turn around, "Mhhmmmm...yes, yes yes. Trust not a necessity, however. Will do my job, Wrex does his. Cannot allow compromization of patient. Will kill to protect her."

"And now I like him," Wrex laughed, "You've got a quad, doctor. Keep her safe."

"Nowhere safer than on the Normandy, Wrex," Marcus stated.

"I know," the krogan replied, "You've got me!" And with that, he left, the doors closing behind him. Marcus could only shake his head at the krogan with a smile, before moving over to Mordin's desk, smiling as he leaned against it. As if sensing his presence, the salarian appeared, blinking as he stood up fully.

"Shepard, good. Wanted to talk," he stated, continuing to fiddle with his terminal as he spoke, "Eve's immune system has been stressed; almost to point of collapse. Maelon's experiments brutal, almost killed her. However, Maelon's data thorough. Fortunately detailed as well. Have used notes to improve her condition," he continued to work, multi-tasking quite a forte for him, "A mild fever, nothing seriousness. Will recover. Would like her to fully recover before synthesizing cure. Doctor's recommendation."

"My people don't have time for that!" Eve said forcibly from behind them, eyes furrowed in anger.

Mordin stopped for a second to look in her direction before continuing, "Her opinion...somewhat different."

"You...care about her," Marcus noted, intrigued.

"My patient, my responsibility," was the salarian's typical response, "Found her at STG Alpha Site. Three doctors injured trying to restrain her. Undid arm restriants. Didn't resist when she grabbed me. Promised to help her," and then he paused for a moment, looking over at Eve in silent contemplation, his fast metabolism actually catching up with him in that moment. He sighed, "She said...'please.'"

Marcus gulped, bracing against the desk as he leaned in, gaining the salarian's full attention, "So...you're saying we did the right thing by saving Maelon's data?"

"Indeed," was Mordin's instant reply, quick to process the man's question, "Would be much harder to treat Eve without it. Maybe impossible."

He frowned, alittle disturbed at the memories that flooded back, "And all those experiments we saw on Tuchanka?"

The salarian frowned, disgusted, "Monstrous. Repulsive. But now have purpose. Victims did not die for nothing."

He sighed as he met the professor's eyes, "Have you...found any signs of him? Do you know where Maelon is?"

Mordin shook his head, "No. Sent teams to search for him to aid with genophage cure project, came up with no results. Gone to ground, maybe. Likely dead. Told him to take over clinic on Omega. Omega owned by Cerberus. Cerberus anti-alien; likely killed him. Will never know. Galaxy large place. Many places to hide. Would kill him, unless he could help."

"So its just you then?" Marcus asked.

"Just me. Few scientists with my expertise. Had to be me," the salarian hastily replied with a sense of gloating.

"Someone else might have gotten it wrong?" Marcus finished for him, smirking.

"Possibly. Stakes too high to put in hands of regular doctors. Need this to be perfect. Had to be me," he declared, the salarian looking back at his terminal as he began to return to work, "Will put it right. Prove I can."

"Well..." he trailed off, exhaling as he stood straighter, "You going to hang around after this thing is cured?"

Mordin nodded, "Until Reapers dealt with at least. After...not sure," the professor stopped working, gazing into space as he thought. Then a smile erupted across his face and he faced Marcus, grinning slightly, "Might go somewhere sunny. Sit on a beach, look at ocean, collect seashells."

Marcus snorted, almost chuckling, "You'd go crazy inside an hour!"

The salarian's grin only widened further, "Might run tests on the seashells."

He sighed, patting the man on the shoulder with a warm smile, "Never change, Mordin. Never change."

"Yes yes," Mordin replied, turning back to his terminal as he continued his work, "Aware of personality. Much prefer it myself. Now, much work to do. Must get back to it. Run tests on seashells when the time comes. Beach waiting; not going anywhere." And with that, he turned his back, taking the vial with him as he picked up a piece of equipment and began doing something to the vial with it. Whatever it was, he would never find out as he turned away and moved to talk with Eve, the krogan looking zoned out as he approached. But she quickly took notice when she saw him coming, and she twisted in her position to face him, nodding appreciatively to him.

"I'd like to thank you for saving my life, Captain," Eve greeted, nodding at him in respect, "There are not many people left in the galaxy who care about the krogan, and you are one of those few. I respect what you're helping us do. It'll change the galaxy, and hopefully the krogan, if we can grow up."

He nodded, coming to stand infront of her as he crossed his arms, "This galaxy owes alot to you, even if most have forgotten that."

"They can be forgiven," Eve justified, "Our actions have hardly inspired friendship and trust in us."

"Part of being friends is knowing the other person's name," he stated, eyebrow raised, "I still don't know yours."

She shrugged, "Again, I surrendered my name when I became a shaman of the Urdnot clan. I belong to my fellow shamans now," she explained, uncrossing her legs and coming to stand infront of him, her bulky body leaning against the bed, "But perhaps one day, when you have truly earned my trust, I will tell you. For now, just call me Eve."

"Okay," he responded, trying to think of another question. This is how most of his rounds went; he'd ask a person questions, and that's how friendship began. Ask the right questions, and you make friends very fast. He turned to look at the door, smiling as he looked back at Eve, "What do you think of Wrex?"

Eve scoffed, "When he's not trying to sire half of Tuchanka, he's the best thing that happened to the krogan, but I won't tell him that. His head is big enough already...literally."

"He's definitely changed since I met him three years ago," he recounted, "Gone from mercenary to clan chief of the krogan race. He should be proud of himself."

"I know in his heart that Wrex wants what's best for the krogan," Eve declared, nodding with his words, "Thought not all the other clans see it that way; they just see a usurper who wants to make nice with our 'enemies' and force us to be 'peaceful.' Personally, I think they're a bunch of fools. But we need them for a united krogan species, so their cooperation is a necessity. But knowing Wrex, he'll find a way."

He gulped, dreading his next question, smirk dying, "How...what's it been like...you know...living with the genophage?"

Eve sighed, looking at the ground with sorrow, "I knew sisters who couldn't bare the shame of being infertile," she recollected, "They would wander off into the wastelands, hoping a thresher maw would find them and end their torment."

He shuffled his feet, wandering if he should even ask. In the end, he decided to anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, "Did...did the thought ever cross your mind?"

She continued to look at the ground in shame, nodding, "Once. After my...after my first stillborn, I did consider it."

He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but decided it would be a bit awkward with a krogan, and decided against it, simply laying a hand on her shoulder, causing her head to look up at him, "What stopped you?"

She looked at him with a determination he hadn't seen before, a fire in her eyes, "When my child didn't draw breath, that's when my life truly began," she stated, hands clenching as no doubt many images raced through her mind, "The genophage forces us to live on hope alone. There is nothing else. There is no reason to exist other than the hope that the next day will bring change. And if it doesn't, there is always the next."

"And how do you think that'll change with the genophage gone?" Marcus asked curiously, looking up at her inqusitively.

"Our people can begin again, fix what we did wrong and rejoin the galactic stage," Eve stated with some happiness, the hope in her tone almost palpable, "We'll be able to get back to work on fixing our planet; fix what we did during our nuclear war and then look to the stars; maybe the Council will grant us some worlds. The krogan will be reborn, and Wrex will stop us from returning to our old ways and seeking petty revenge," she laughed, a small smile on her face, "And maybe us females will get to play our part in our race's continuity again, and not be pawns for hungry males and two-legged breeding machines." She said the last part with disgust, and he could understand that; he found the way the krogan used their females to be horrible, useful for sex and nothing else.

He decided to change the subject, and shot a look in Mordin's direction, who was once again fumbling under his desk, "How's Mordin been treating you?" When he turned, he saw Eve looking in his direction as well, smiling slightly behind her large hood.

"Better than most krogan males do," she replied, "He's not your typical salarian."

They could hear the salarian mumbling to himself, his words just barely hearable, "No...no no! Organ redundancy results in new period before metaphase. Won't work, no," a bang, and the salarian seemed to...growl? Mordin growled? "Can't alter that. Damage to telomeres, premature aging..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning awkwardly, "He does this alot."

"But I sense pain in him too," Eve pondered, her face a mask of seriousness, "He told me about his work on the genophage. I should consider him my enemy. Yet..." she turned towards him one more time before looking back at Marcus, "...I think seeing my sisters changed something in him."

Without warning, they heard Mordin begin to obliviously sing very loudly, Marcus instantly recognizing the song as Mordin's favourite, "Asari-vorcha offspring have an allergy to diary and da-da-da-di-di-da-da-daaaaaaa!"

"Well it wasn't his ear," he remarked, turning back to Eve with a look of apology on his face as he noticed his chrono; he better finish up and get that report done. As a Spectre, he still had to answer to the Council and his duty to the Alliance meant he had to answer to them too, which meant writing two seperate reports. Neither of which he had done yet. He held his hand out, apologetic, "I'm sorry, but I do have to get going. It has been nice speaking with you, Eve, but I do have to do some reports. They won't write themselves."  _And I've got to figure out how to tell the UGC and Council just how I'm going to stop a Reaper bomb that could potentially destroy Tuchanka._

"Of course Captain. We all have our parts to play. I would be doing more if it wasn't for Mordin telling me to lie down and rest," she sighed, sitting back up on the bed, but this time lying down, "This time however, I think I will follow his advice to the letter; I really am quite tired, and I'll need to keep my strength up."

"Have a nice rest Eve," he stated and then turned to leave, purpose in his step as he nodded to a frantic Mordin in the process. Leaving through the door, he was grateful for the lack of a checkpoint as he nodded to Samantha and Kelly, knowing he had promised them a chess match at some point.  _I'll have to make time for that._ Entering the elevator, he hit the button for the upper deck and contemplated on the task ahead.

_Just how the hell am I going to disarm a Reaper bomb? How's my squad going to manage that? Garrus is good at weapons, but this is Reaper technology. We wouldn't know where to start. Why does this ooze bad? Not just destruction bad, but the way Victus looked at me when I mentioned Reaper. Like I was incorrect..._

He shook the feeling. All that mattered was disarming that bomb.

And God knows he would let nothing stop this alliance.

**{Loading...}**

_June 16, 2186_

_0629 hours._

_Abandoned Warrior's Arena, Trisek'lok City Ruins, Tor'an Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_First Lieutenant Tarquin Victus._

An explosion of dirt blew into his face and he winced from the impact, raising his hand to keep away any further debris from the enemy attack. Turning back, he watched as the marauder moved towards him, rifle raised and ready to fire. It got off one shot, which pinged off his shields, followed by a second with the same result. Before it could squeeze the trigger a third time, Tarquin hip fired his own phaeston right into the marauder's midsection, bullets tearing it to bits as it simply stood there, taking the punishment, jerking back and forth.

Shields meant nothing as the smoking corpse collapsed backwards, Tarquin growling as he popped the heat sink on his weapon and reloaded, falling back into the main structure, slamming the door shut behind him. He let out a sigh, comming Truius as he came to stand in the middle of a desolate corridor, "Truius, what's your location and situation?"

"Northside and being swarmed," the man muttered, sounding tired and exchanging this obvious gesture with weighed breaths as the sound of gunfire conquered the area, "They're throwing everything at us, and we're doing our best to stem the tide, but they just keep coming."

"Yeah, well you've got most of the unit, so quit complaining," Tarquin growled, looking down both ends of the corridor. The right side was completely collapsed and covered in rubble, so he voted to take the left, brandishing his rifle as he made sure no surprises waited for him; the only sound being distant moans, shouting and the staccato thumps of rifle fire, "We need to regroup. Casualties?" He heard a click, and he whirled on the spot, only to find somekind of native Tuchankan insect scurrying away, and he calmed down, continuing down the hall.

"Luckily kept to a minimum," Truius answered with a heave, taking a moment to shout more orders at his unit before progressing, "Squad Delta lost Aulus, and Squad Alpha lost Yenari and Wenarus. Three down over all. How about you?"

He came to a stop, gulping as he wiped the blue blood from his face; some of it was drying, the rest was still fresh. He kept the images from overwhelming his mind, closing his eyes and opening them to disspell the pictures and press on, licking his mandibles, "They're...Squad Cipritine is gone. All personnel lost. I'm the only survivor."  _You lost an entire squad of black watch, you disgrace. And now the platoon is down one Cabal._  He couldn't help the image of the biotic soldier holding off the enemy, shockwaves crippling entire lines of husks...only for a brute to come up from behind and splatter him against a wall, practically wiping his torso along the wall and painting an entire section bright blue. The shock had caused him to forget to sound a retreat, and they lost another two because of his hesitation.

He could practically feel the color draining from Truius' face through the comm, "What? What the fuck do you mean an entire squad is  _gone?_ "

"We were ambushed when we tried to find a way around, just like you. A whole company of cannibals lead by several marauders with a harvester as air support," Tarquin reported, hearing the gunfire intensify as he continued down the hall, "We tried to break through and make it out of the arena, but Vanguard seems to know we're here and just sent everything it had. We retreated, and we took heavy casualities. Caus tried to hold them off with his biotics, but a brute got him, and I lost two more men. I announced a full retreat, but by the time I reached a defensible position, the whole squad was slaughtered. I just ran."

"You lost an entire squad of black watch?" Truius growled, cursing, "Spirits damn you! We should never have been moved by that fucking speech of yours! We wouldn't be in this mess if not for you! And you lost Caus too! What am I meant to tell his wife, hmmm? Am I meant to tell her that he was killed by a brute because his commander was a fucking  _moron!?_ "

"I have a wife too!" Tarquin snarled, spinning as he slammed his rifle into the head of a leaping varren, killing it with a single volley before continuing.  _Damn animals don't care if we're all killed. Reapers won't touch them._ He returned his attention to Truius', venting his frustration, "So do you! So do all of us! Dela has a husband! We all have families! And you think I don't regret getting them all killed? OF COURSE I DO! But this is the most important mission of the war and we will complete it! First Platoon  _will_  proceed!"

"I..." he heard Truius' prepared to object, but he simply sighed, "Yes, sir. Regroup at the northern entrance, sir." And then the line was cut. Tarquin exhaled, noting just what a piece of work Truius was turning out to be.  _All this death. I just hope we manage to stop that bomb; or it will not have been worth it._ They weren't far away from it when they were forced to find refuge in this arena; only five hundred meters of streets and they would have reached it. But Vanguard must have been more vigilant than they first thought.

A bang rocked the facility, rock and dust billowing from the ceiling and onto the cracked ground.  _Vanguard's on the move._ Swarms of Reaper troops were converging on the arena, all in an effort to take them out, and he knew, he just knew, it was because Vanguard knew about the bomb. Its importance. And it was going to do all it could to stop them from stopping it. And it would do all it could to detonate it.  _If that bomb detonates, the whole planet will crack. I cannot allow that. This mission must not fail._ The gunfire became more intense as he closed in on it, and before he knew it, a ceiling vent crashed to the ground and three husks dropped from it, racing to get to their feet.

He raised his phaeston and riddled all three with three bursts, their skulls cracking open and bodies jerking from the impacts, downing them. He saw a cannibal turn its back and move to face him, but a round quickly found its eye, opening its own skull open and killing it. He carefully stepped over its downed cadaver, pulling out two frag grenades from his belt and priming them.  _My last two._ He had one more, but it was only an Arc grenade, and he wanted to save that for when he really needed it.

Rounding the corner, he found the rest of his platoon, Truius shouting orders, hiding behind fallen pillars of stone, with Truius hiding behind an old, faded statue of what looked to be an ancient krogan battlemaster wielding a massive hammer that easily dwarfed the turian's upper body. As soon as he saw it however, he was forced to watch as Truius' grenade launcher thumped, blowing apart the ribcage of a charging brute and causing it to spiral into the statue, sending bits of stone raining upon the group and the husks and the upper part tumbling to the ground, crushing the brute and sending the platoon scurrying; unfortunately, it didn't save one turian soldier, he combat rolled to the side, but was caught in the fall as his legs were completely crushed by the falling statue. His screams rocked the arena.

Deciding he'd seen enough, he tossed both grenades into the horde's rear. They both detonated in intense fireballs of cloud, smoke and agitated fire, husks and abominations vaporized, cannibals and marauders torn asunder, and two scions blown apart. He even watched one half of a praetorian get incinerated, its remains a thick coat on the cracked stone floor.

He rushed through the middle and down the break in the Reaper line, easily reaching his men in seconds as he slid into cover, firing his rifle sporadically behind him to ensure the enemy didn't get a bead on him. Once in cover, he slapped in a fresh thermal clip and peaked over his piece of stone, watching the enemy line reform.

"We need to retreat, right now," Tarquin ordered over the comm, "There's too many, and we've got to disable that bomb before we take too many casualities."

"What about Ramitus?" one soldier asked, a commando named Xelpus, "His legs were crushed by the statue. We can't just leave him here!" Xelpus and Ramitus were best friends since they entered the military, and had stuck by each other throughout their Black Watch training. But recent circumstances made it abundantly clear Ramitus wasn't going anywhere.

His legs weren't just crushed, they were pulverized. The man was practically pancaked across the floor, and everything below the thigh was gone and leaking sickening amounts of blue blood onto the floor. Even with medi-gel, it was unlikely he'd survive.

"For the Hierarchy..." Ramitus spat, as if understanding Tarquin's troubled gaze, "For...Palaven...just tell my wife I'm sorry...and that we'll see each other again...in the spirits...haven..." he coughed, and Xelpus was at his side, ready to apply medi-gel, but the turian was having none of it, already close to fainting due to his rapid loss of blood, "Don't you...dare! We are turian! We...are black watch! What's...our motto, Xelpus?"

"We better move it!" Truius shouted, gunfire starting again as the Reapers intensified their attack. Tarquin thought he heard a familiar, aerial screech, but he ignored it.

Xelpus looked about to cry, but there was two things you needed to know about turians: tough as nails and lacking tear ducts. "Serve the Hierarchy, Serve Ourselves. Die for the Hierarchy, Die Trying."

"I...will die..." Ramitus made clear, "But I think-"

His parting goodbye was interrupted by a blast of red hot heat hitting him, incinerating both him and Xelpus in a single blast. Tarquin winced as the heat hit his face, and he could only look in horror at the blackened scorch marks where the two commandos had been. He looked to the right, to the source, and he gulped.

A Harvester stood poised above them, its four, powerful legs holding its large body upright. Its long 'worm-neck' stood tall and bent, large head glaring down at them. However, like all the Harvesters under Reaper control, it had been converted into a husk; a cybernetic abomination of its original form. Its body was unrecognizable as every part of its orignally orange-skinned body was covered in black, pale-grey cybernetics and enhancements, armor and weaponry. Armor plating covered it, head-to-toe, making sure only explosive weapons could penetrate it. Its large head now situated two glowing red eyes and a massive cannon where its mouth had been, and its powerful wings were now even stronger with its anti-gravity thrusters attached to it.

The harvester seemed to turn to look specifically at him, as if glowering at him behind its lifeless, red eyes. He watched as its red mouth seemed to charge up, ready to vaporize his platoon. He raised his phaeston and sprayed it with bullets, but they uselessly pinged off its versatile armor, and the creature paid the attacks no mind, continuing its charged attack...

...only for an explosion to rock its back, bits of armor plating shredded off and black blood spurting in the air, the harvester giving an annoyed screech as it whirled to fear the rearbound target.

Down it came, from the sky, descending upon them like a guardian angel. Blue and white gleamed in the night, but the insignia was hidden by the darkness; not that recognizing it would be necessary. The Alliance colors were easily identifiable.  _What are humans doing here?_ He watched the shuttle fire another volley, obviously a kodiak model, but armed; how did it get past Vanguard without being shot down? The volley blew through its neck, twin pulses of light shredding rotten flesh and blowing ichor apart. The harvester continued its turn, but its resistance was pointless, the shuttle's expert pilot (he had to be to navigate ruins like this) firing non-stop, until eventually only an eviscerated carcass remained, its body flaming from the superheated shells that destroyed it. Tarquin could only look at it, and then looked back at the hovering kodiak, of which was now swivelling its hatch to face them. Even the Reapers seemed captivated, but they were already opening fire.

As soon as the hatch opened, a figure was standing there, lean and tall. Heavily built, and with a phaeston assault rifle in his right hand, and a grenade launcher in his left. He was quite an intimidating figure, with his gleaming red hot armor, lined with black and visor shaped like a Y; the human looked quite powerful in his Terminus Assault Armor. Even then, the Reaper attack pinged harmlessly off his kinetic barriers as he brought both weapons to bare.

"Did I interrupt something, you fuckers!?" the man roared, and suddenly his assault rifle roared to life in his hands, raking fire across the enemy ranks and dropping two cannibals almost instantly. In his other hand, he fired a grenade every three seconds with pinpoint accuracy, which should have been impossible for anybody but a krogan to do; the recoil of the weapon was just too much, especially one-handed.  _By the spirits..._

His platoon stood down as they watched the unidentified human simply rip the husks' ranks apart piecemeal, the combination of automatic fire and the accompanying explosion of grenades detonating completely decimating them. And soon, when the dust cleared and the man tossed away his empty launcher, every single Reaper foot soldier lay dead at their feet, the enemy defeated. Unfortunately, Tarquin knew all too well they'd be back.  _Destroy one horde, three will return to finish the job. Damnable Reapers._

As the shuttle landed and his platoon approached it, he noticed the human was not alone; two more followed him, one the slim build of a female wielding a Valkyrie heavy rifle, her armor gleaming red and black as he recognized the initials of the Alliance's N7 Special Forces. The other human was male, heavily built and wore the plain blue and white heavy combat armor of the Alliance, a Revenant LMG in his strong grip.  _The best of the best, and the mightiest of the mightiest. They came to lay down desolation. I can't argue with that._

What intrigued him the most is what came next. Following beside the tall human form was one of his own people; a turian wearing blue combat armor and an older model Reaper sniper rifle from three years ago, but heavily modified. He wore an eyepiece, and nodded to Tarquin with respect, an air of professionalism coming from him. And that wasn't all; Tarquin almost flinched and moved for his weapon when he saw the huge form of a krogan appear, armor scarred and claymore shotgun in hand. Following them was an unusual creature carrying an equally unusual gun, both of which he hadn't seen before, a human wearing a hood, an asari in a white armoured labcoat, and a human-shaped mech looking platform, all of them carrying weapons.  _Definitely not Alliance..._

The human from before, obviously the commander, spoke two words to the turian beside him and they all moved forward, almost in perfect sync. When he reached Tarquin, he stopped, looking down at him, almost condescendingly. At least, he felt like it was in the face of such a titan; the man was equal to him in height, and most turians were taller than humans by a full foot.  _He's large for a human._

"Are you First Lieutenant Tarquin Victus of the First Platoon, sent here to disable a Reaper bomb and Captain of the THS Educated Foresight?"

The turian gulped, practically feeling his platoon's surprised glances at him.  _How does he know my name? My platoon? My ship? And how did he know my mission?_ Considering the firepower around them, he knew even Black Watch SpecOps couldn't hope to stand up to them, so he stood straight, deciding to play along, "That's me. And who, may I ask, are you? You're awfully well informed."  _Hopefully he doesn't take that for hostility._

To his surprise and relief, the man reached up and removed his helmet, revealing a fuce calmer face than he expected, with medium stubble and brown hair, but his face was still set in a grim line as he introduced himself, "Captain Marcus Shepard, Alliance Navy, Special Tactics and Recon and commanding officer of the SSV Normandy. As for how well informed I am, let's just say your father was very keen to ensure your safety and the success of your mission."

Tarquin's eyes widened at that, and he felt his heartbeat quicken.  _F-father is here? In orbit? Oh spirits, he must be so disappointed in me..._ "That's...unexpected. Although your intervention is appreciated, its not needed."

"Don't play tough, Lieutenant," the turian interrupted, shaking his head, "You and your men would be dead if we hadn't showed up, and just in case you think we hadn't noticed, you have no ship."

"While Garrus is incredibly blunt," Shepard stated, shooting a glance at the turian, turning back to Tarquin afterwards, "He is correct. You need your help, and I know the importance of your mission. That Reaper bomb cannot go off; the safety of the turian-krogan alliance depends on it."

 _Reaper bomb? Who told him...oh yes, classified intel. He can't know. If they found out..._ he shot a glance at the krogan nearby, nodding to assure himself.  _Yes, definitely can't find out. Keep up the ruse, do not reveal true source of the bomb._

He turned back to Marcus as if nothing had happened, nodding again, "Agreed, sir. That was our mission, and it would have gone alot more smoothly if I had made some better choices."

"Damn fool tried to evade Vanguard by taking us directly over the ruins. Hoped to avoid a direct frontation," Truius spat, frustration and fury clear in his voice, "Instead, a direct frontation is  _exactly_ what we got. Shot our corvette down and forced us to use the escape pods. We've been gunning in this direction ever since."

"Wait, you said Vanguard?" Garrus asked.

"That I did," Truius replied quizzically, "Why?"

"I had heard reports that it participated in the Apien Crest Campaign. We only know it by name because it likes to taunt alot. More than Harbinger, in fact," the turian quipped, gripping his rifle harder, "Vanguard's come a long way from Palaven."

"Yeah, well luckily for us, its the only Reaper in this system," Tarquin added, "And it'll be my honor in the end to see to its destruction. That damn Reaper shot down my ship, killed my crew, and now its servants are killing my platoon. I'm losing men, and we're still too far away from the bomb. Truius is my second-in-command...and EOD specialist. His survival is paramount for the completion of this mission."

Marcus nodded, "Do you know the exact location of this device?"

Tarquin nodded, "We were planning to take the street straight to the bomb, where it is located in the city's old power plant. We were forced to detour through this arena, and now it looks like we might have to move from building to building to reach the plant now."

"Forget that," Marcus ordered, jabbing a thumb at the shuttle behind him, "I've got a shuttle; we'll get you there ASAP and from there Garrus can help your specialist disable the bomb; my friend is an expert on weapon systems."

"But Vanguard will detect us coming," Tarquin pointed out, "He'll just shoot us down, and this time we won't have escape pods to save us."

"Our kodiak's different," the N7 piped up from her position, regarding him coldly, "State-of-the-art stealth technology; same one the Normandy uses. Vanguard will have to see us directly to know we're coming, unless the Reapers have discovered how to detect tachyon particles, which is impossible, even for them."

"So it's solved," Marcus declared, putting his helmet back on as he moved back towards the shuttle, "We get you over there, you disable the bomb, and we safely dispose of it; hell," he turned back to Tarquin, grinning as his helmet slipped over his head, "Maybe we'll give it back to Vanguard."

"Ooh-rah," one of his men, a Cabal, piped up as he moved with the rest of the platoon towards the shuttle, "Now that's what I'm talking about. Wouldn't mind a little payback."

Tarquin nodded, ignoring Truius' glare as his platoon got inside the shuttle, the lieutenant moving behind them as he holstered his rifle.  _Should I tell them? It feels wrong to leave them in the dark on what this bomb is...why shouldn't I? Even if I told them, why would they kill me? Why would the krogan stop the deal? We're fixing it, aren't we?_

Tarquin didn't want to know the answer.

**{Loading...}**

_June 16, 2186_

_0652 hours._

_Abandoned City Power Plant, Trisek'lok City Ruins, Tor'an Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Soldier Javik, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, First Lieutenant Tarquin Victus._

He rounded the corner, omni-blade sizzling as he scanned the terrain ahead; just another alleyway, more destroyed skycars and a clear path. Satisfied that the area looked fine, he turned back, tearing his blade out of the skull of the dead husk he had just killed, letting the blade evaporate as he turned back to his squad, all having dealt with their respective hostiles. The husks must have thought they were being subtle; nothing his team couldn't handle in the end.

He eyed the turian platoon, all of who didn't seem to be encountering many problems. He had noticed that they seemed to be one squad short and was missing a Cabal for the so-called 'Cabal fireteam,' but he didn't ask, knowing the answer was pretty clear. What was left of the special forces unit was doing well regardless, their training and skill making sure they dealt with the enemy calmly and weren't prone to panic. Tarquin was keeping things in line, even if his constantly insubordinate engineer and de facto second-in-command, Truius, was constantly trying to undermine his command. Overall, he was pretty impressed by the turian Black Watch.  _I heard that the Black Watch and N7 had a ground battle during the turian-human war games last year, and I heard that Black Watch won by two kills, but its another to see them in proper action._

And considering killing Reaper husks wasn't exactly in the training schedule for a special forces operative, they were holding up tight. He had a feeling they'd all get out of here alive. Tarquin seemed the most professional of the group, but that probably came with rank and experience. Being the son of a late ArchGeneral, now Primarch, likely meant you got training from the best of the best.

Tarquin approached him, coming to stand beside him as Marcus raised his phaeston, motioning Garrus and Wrex to patrol up front a few meters and make sure nothing was waiting for them while himself and Kasumi kept a watch on their backs. Tarquin joined in, bracing his own phaeston against his shoulder. Marcus had to admit that although he liked the punch of his old mattock or the rapidfire decimation of the geth pulse rifle, the phaeston did have alot of power; automatic rate of fire and high-impact rounds meant dropping husks with just one burst instead of maybe two. It also shredded kinetic barriers pretty easily, which meant marauders went down with ease. But that didn't mean he'd keep it; first chance he got, it was back to the mattock. And then, once he made contact with the geth again, he'd acquire himself another pulse rifle.  _God do I love that gun._

"It should be two hundred meters ahead from here," Tarquin muttered, motioning a finger to a large, crumpled looking structure in the distance, "That's one of the plant's old pylons. They have the bomb right inside. It should be a simple matter of getting inside, reaching the bomb, and letting Vakarian and Truius do their job. Once done, we call in the Normandy and take the bomb to a safe place so it doesn't detonate. I'd say...drop it in the atmosphere of an uninhabited planet. Kruban maybe."

"Sounds good. Just two problems with that," Marcus noted, turning to meet Tarquin's eyes, "One, how are we going to get the bomb out of here with Vanguard stalking around? I can't risk bringing the Normandy in just to sit there like glowing neon lights. Two, the place is swarming with Reaper troops. There's no guarantee we'll have enough time to disarm the bomb, so we might need an alternative."

Tarquin looked at him incredulously, "An alternative with a Reaper bomb? There isn't one. If this was human or asari, maybe, but this is a UAT we're talking about. We can't just read the book of disarming bombs and follow it step by step; Reaper tech is an unknown we can't afford to tamper with. If it were up to me? Just drop it on Kruban and forget disarming it. For all we know, disarming it for us could be arming it on the bomb. We just don't know."

"You're telling me this now?" Marcus growled, glaring at the turian, "You want me to risk the lives of my team when even you're not sure about your own orders?" He snorted, turning away from Tarquin to look down range once more, "But I guess that's my fault. I've fought the Reapers for three years and I still don't understand everything about them; how can I expect you to be an expert? How many of your men died here because they were following orders even their own commander wasn't sure about?"

"Too many," Tarquin whispered, voice full of regret, "And it was all due to my incompetence, not our orders. I lead those men to their deaths; that's all on me, not the Hierarchy High Command. Mine! I hope we're on the same page here, Captain, because I'm not sure you understand what's at stake here!"

"Don't know what's at stake...?" He looked at him, incredulous. He held up a hand, turning to his team as he motioned them forward; Garrus and Wrex must have given the all clear. Once he was sure they were moving forward, and the turian platoon, he grabbed the turian's collar and threw him against a wall, surprising him.

"Don't you  _dare_ tell me I don't what's at stake!" he snapped, squeezing his collar to tightly that you could almost hear the metal and plastic straining from the pressure, "My entire life for the past three years has been devoted to killing these fucks!  _I_ stopped Sovereign and the geth on the Citadel!  _I_ destroyed the Collectors!  _And I am the one making this alliance happen!_ You think the krogan came to the negoitating table of their own good will? No, that was me! Wrex was good friends with me, and  _that's_ why he was willing to be diplomatic! If it was Wreav in control? You'd bet he'd spit in your face and we wouldn't even be having this conversation! So let's get this shit straight," he moved in, inches from the turian's face, "Do not ever question my understanding of the stakes for the remainder of this mission. You don't know jackshit! So keep your mouth shut, and we'll be friends, you got me?"

Tarquin nodded, "I understand you, Captain. And I apologize for my...brash actions, but I needed to know you know what's at stake here. There can't be room for mistakes or any hesitation."

"Better than anyone, I do," Marcus replied, loosening his grip on the man as he got up and moved around the corner to join his squad, "Just...keep up, Tarquin and keep your platoon in line. We  _will_ disarm that bomb. There cannot be any going back."

Tarquin nodded, gulping as he pushed past him and breaking into a jog, "That's something we can agree on."

Marcus quickly moved up to join him, both of them catching up with the unit very quickly, allowing them to continue at a safe pace; slow enough to not draw any noise, and fast enough to make good time. He turned to Tarquin, frowning, "I heard that...failure to complete this mission results in execution because your father is a Primarch. Completing this must be vital to you."

Tarquin shrugged, showing no distress at the prospect, "It is what it is, nothing I can do to change it but just do my duty. If I die, so be it. If I live to complete the mission, I'll be an incompetent hero. Either, I'll have done my duty and I'll be content with myself," he looked at Marcus, sighing, "As for you...I don't think you can just die. By the looks of you, and how they speak of you, you'd think your the Reaper pariah."

He grunted. "In some ways, I am. And no, you are right; I have too much to live for to die now and be so content about it. I've got a war to win, one I'm literally dying to see the end of; this conflict has gone on alot longer for me than for you. That and I...I have a wife I need to get back to. Haven't seen her for six months."

"My seperation from mine must seem like a farce to you," Tarquin flustered, shaking his head, "Six months. I've been seperated from mine for two weeks and I already miss her. This war feels like an eternity. Will it ever end?" he looked defeated after that, his posture alot weaker, "Three homeworlds have fallen already, and its what...only the 16th? This war started on the 2nd, didn't it? Spirits...how do we win this? Can we?"

"This war will end, as all do," Marcus assured him, "We just have to choose how and who wins it."

"Yes, but is that our choice? Can we choose?" Tarquin asked, incredulous, "They have the firepower, the technology, the immensity...all they have to do is fight a war of attrition...my people are the military superpower of the galaxy, and the Reapers broke through our fleet and laid siege to Palaven like our might meant nothing. If we can't defeat them, how do you think anyone has a chance?"

Marcus took a moment to think through that, contemplating what he should do next. Eventually, they noticed the entire squad and platoon had stopped, and had turned to listen to what Marcus had to say. Eventually, the man turned to the turian, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it.

"Its called hope, Tarquin," he told him, "Build some of it, and you can conquer any obstacle, I've learnt. How do you think I stopped Sovereign and the geth? Harbinger and the Collectors? We will beat the Reapers, and we will destroy them. And I promise you, you will see your family again. Your wife."

Tarquin nodded, smiling meekly, "That...sounds very thoughtful, Captain. I shall hold you to that," he turned to the group, moving forward as he pushed to the front, "But I won't be seeing anyone after this if we fail. We should keep going."

He nodded, shouldering his rifle once more as he gave a nod to his squad, "We disarm this bomb and we can all go home."

His squad couldn't agree more, and the same was for Tarquin's First Platoon. They continued with renewed vigour to the power plant.

It wasn't long before the massive facility loomed over them, its once titanic magnificence now whethered by time and nuclear devastation. Now it was a blackened wreck, holes in its design and torn support railings making the place look like a long lost tomb, and a place of eery significance. This place held the key to Tuchanka's destruction, if activated.

Marcus turned to face the krogan battlemaster beside him, weary of what lurked inside.  _A Reaper deathtrap, or a Reaper deathtrap with soldiers to guard it?_ Wrex huffed, pointing to what looked to be a massive gate ahead of them with faded krogan lettering hanging over it.

"That looks to be the main entrance, although I'm not completely sure," Wrex assured him, "The lettering above is ancient, and not of our reformed language; its lost in the translation. But judging by the size, I'd say its the main entrance. Best be careful though, pyjaks. Main structure looks weakened and could fall apart; must have gone through centuries of decay since the Tuchankan Nuclear War."

Tarquin nodded, "Which means we should watch our step. Any footfall could cause the entire place to come down. But be vigilant; no doubt Vanguard will have troops protecting that damnable bomb."

"Stay frosty," Marcus ordered, and he moved forward, phaeston braced and his squad hot on his heels, watching almost every corner. First platoon followed up behind, their two Cabals staying in the middle to avoid an enemy ambush taking them out. They heard a Reaper airhorn in the distance, and all stopped, but they soon realized it was too far away to be a threat, so they continued.  _Vanguard must be miles away. That sound was far too distant._ But that didn't mean its troops were far.

As for the giant gate, it was already open, with both doors now a pile of rusted metal sheets, long having coroded into nothing. The ground was dark grey from where the metal had been soaked up by the ground, and many of the buildings inside the complex looked like barren husks, their walls either blown to smithereens or non-existent, only frames left to identify them ever having been there.

"The krogan were a glorious people once," Wrex muttered, sighing as he looked over the massive feat of krogan engineering that had been reduced to nothing, "Then we just had to nuke it all to dust. Tuchanka wasn't always wastelands and thresher maws and ruins," he explained, turning to them, "We weren't always savages. Back during the Period of Progression, we rivalled the asari in architecture, the turians in culture and humans in personality. We were...beautiful. Of course, the nuclear war changed that. I've only heard stories...most of its lost now, no records were kept after our uplift," he gritted his teeth, shaking his head, "But I heard that Tuchanka just to be a garden world; we had oceans and jungles, you know. Now its all gone."

"The Nuclear War reduced our planet to dust," he recounted, "We destroyed our own cities, and murdered billions of krogan. Our oceans dried up, and the nuclear devastation superheated the atmosphere, leading to the desert it now is. The radiation also poisoned our atmosphere; weakened it. That's why Aralakh's rays are so strong; it was our fault! We killed Tuchanka!" he growled, "The radiation also mutated the basic worm strain; you'd hate to believe it, but it was our nuclear war that gave birth to the first Thresher Maw. And the biggest one of them all."

"The biggest?" Marcus asked, surprised by the sudden information."

"The nastiest motherfucker known to man," James stated. When he noticed all eyes on him, he shrugged, laughing awkwardly, "Of course, its probably just a myth."

"It isn't," Tarquin stated, and all eyes landed on him instantly, begging for more info. He gave it, "My platoon encountered the beast in this very city, not long after our crash. We all saw her before our very eyes; the biggest Thresher Maw in existence. She had to be a few kilometers in length, and her hide would have been powerful enough to take a MAC round. Make no mistake; Kalros exists."

"Wait, Kalros?" Garrus snorted, "The krogan worship a thresher maw?"

Wrex stared at him, almost looking offended, "She's a symbol of strength, power and destruction; something all krogan respect. We call her the Mother of Tuchanka, and its fury. If you piss off Kalros, you piss off Tuchanka. No krogan has made to infuriate her, and all that do never return; even a battalion would have a hard time destroying her. She's a sigil of our power, and of what we are capable of; and that we can endure. Still, you had to be lucky to see Kalros," Wrex concluded, "She rarely pops up unless someone really pisses her off," he chuckled, howling almost at the thought, and for a second, noone could understand why.

"Um...Wrex?" Marcus asked, eyebrow raised, "What's so funny?"

The krogan eyed him, still chortling slightly, "Don't you get it? Its that damn Reaper that's got her riled up! Vanguard woke her up, and now she's pissed! That's why she popped up in the city! She's following it!" He chuckled, "She just doesn't want to make the move yet because she hates this terrain. She prefers the open desert, not concrete and skyscrapers," he looked up at the power plant, grinning, "Oh, that Reaper better say its prayers. A battle between it and Kalros will be a sight to see; only when it kills Kalros will I truly fear the Reapers."

"A Thresher Maw battling a Reaper Destroyer?" James whistled, sporting a massive smirk, "Holy shit, that'd be fucking awesome. Come on loco, admit you'd find it fucking awesome."

He did sport a small smile, shrugging slightly, "I'll admit...seeing that thing kill a Reaper would make my day."  _Two of my worst nightmares destroying themselves? I'll be puking fucking rainbows._

"Don't mean to ruin the moment, but we are still on mission," Tarquin insisted, pointing to a maintenance stairwell leading up to the west side of the plant, "I'll take my platoon and try to find an entrance through there."

Marcus nodded, recomposing himself as he turned to a doorway on the east side, "My squad will take that side. Whoever gets there first will secure the bomb. Once we regroup, we defend the bomb while it gets disarmed. We'll decide how inside," he turned to Tarquin, giving him a nod, "Good luck. No knowing what we'll find in there."

"We'll learn soon enough," Tarquin replied, giving him his own nod, "Good luck to you, too," without further-ado, he turned back to his platoon, "First Platoon, move out!" And as one unit, they moved forward, up the stairwell with calm, measured steps so as to not disturb the structure but a hurried pace; time was of the essence. Marcus was confused however as he moved towards the doorway, frowning.

 _If Vanguard wants to detonate the bomb, why not just do it? Why waste time sending troops to stop us when he can just blow us up? Something isn't right. This reeks of a trap..._ After Illium, he was in no mood for traps.  _I'm short on temper, Vanguard._

Reaching the door, he quickly moved up and realized it was much older than it first looked; this one had an old-fashioned twist, turn and push handle. Deciding he'd cause as much noise as possible to see if anyone was inside, he moved to the side of the door, motioning every one else into similiar positions. When they were ready, he moved up, faced the door and brought his leg up, thrusting his foot forward with as much force as he could muster.

The door splintered and thundered to the ground inside with a crack that echoed throughout the whole building. He quickly moved inside, his team behind him, flash light on as light invaded the darkened space. He turned on his helmet's light as well while still aiming his rifle down range, waiting for noise. It didn't take long for it to come and confirm his fears.

Moaning, screeching and growling, all of it echoing throughout the building and giving away the existence of possibly hundreds of Reaper forces within the structure.  _Moans suggest standard husks, screeches suggest cannibals and marauders, and the growling suggests a brute or two._

He moved ahead, letting his team get inside. He turned to his team, his voice a low whisper, "Get your flash lights on, and keep it quiet. We've stirred the nest, and now the occupants want us out. There's no light here, so keep it clean."

"I don't think that'll be necessary," EDI spoke, pointing to an area ahead, "The light in that direction is UV, which means sunlight."

It made sense. When they were getting inside, the sun was rising. But what was more important is that there was a light source nearby, and that would be extremely helpful. He nodded to EDI, turning to the area she was pointing to. He immediately saw it; rays gleaming off metal straight ahead. He smiled, turning back to the synthetic with a thankful grin, "Thank you, EDI," he turned to everyone else, "Come on, let's move!"

As he turned however, he stopped, his comm crackling, "Captain Shepard, this is First Lieutenant Victus! Do you read?"

He keyed his comm, able to respond as he moved forward, "This is Shepard, what's the situation?"

The gunfire that echoed through the building was perfectly timed to Tarquin's response, "We've engaged Reaper troops but have eyes on the bomb! Its in the main generator room, across from the second and third. You must get here; Reaper troop concentration here is heavy! I've just lost two men trying to get through the door! We need assistance now!"

"Copy that, we're on our way! Secure the bomb!" He shouted back, turning back to his team, "We need to double time it! Victus and his men have engaged the enemy and have eyes on the bomb! But enemy forces are strong there and we need to hurry if they're going to survive, so  _move!_ "

Any careful movement was thrown out the window now as they moved, turning left at the end to run across a long metal bridge across to the other side, one of the plant's many generator rooms lying below, ancient machinery now obsolete and out of commission for centuries laying in dust and ruins, sunlight pouring through a ruined ceiling. They ran, faster and faster, as fast as they could, trying to reach Tarquin's team.

The gunfire got louder as they got closer, the sounds of cries and dying husks growing more prominent until they got past the second generator room, reaching a sealed door leading into the main one. He banged against it, attempting a second breach but growling as it had no effect; it was jammed.

He snapped, slamming a fist against the door and denting, but only doing that. He turned to James, frustration in his voice and posture as he waved at the door impatiently, "Get it open, Vega!"

"Yes sir!" He replied, unholstering his cobra launcher as he raised it, taking aim at the door, "Everyone, get back!" And after waiting three seconds for everyone to back away, the marine depressed the trigger, the high-powered rocket shooting forward and exploding, the door rupturing as its shards flew back, flowering the floor behind it as James stepped through the ruins with his launcher holstered, Revenant out as he immediately began pouring fire into a turning marauder, giving it no time to draw its weapon as its now useless body toppled over the railing and down to the ground below.

The room was gunfire, exploding metal and dead bodies; the Reaper troops had been ready for them, and it showed. As they moved, fire coughing from their weapons and impacting servants of the hyper-advanced machines, Marcus could only observe the destruction; the dead bodies of Reapers...and turian black watch. They must have been ambushed, as entire sections of the railing had been blown apart, and below lay dead turian soldiers, in their dozens. One of them, impaled on a metal pole and long dead, he recognized was one of the Cabals.  _Fuck. Its a goddamn slaughter house._

He looked down below, and there he saw the bomb. Like most stereotypical explosives...it was round in shape, and friggin huge. It looked to be raised from the ground, supported by four titanium extenders, themselves supported on a large, steel ring. The bomb was a pale grey and a dark black, with numerous bolts and symbols along it. But for all its complexities, it was too retro, far too primitive to be a Reaper explosive. The design was just...completely different. And why was there a hole below it? Why did it look to be...dug up? The bomb itself was covered in dust.

His attention was diverted when he saw Tarquin running down towards it, shouting at his remaining men to form up on him, his arm wrapped around Truius' shoulders as he dragged the now left-legless turian towards the bomb, the turian warriors putting up a valiant fight as they fought the husks around them back. Marcus noticed their numbers however, and winced.  _Only half a squad left. They had two squads before! And I can't even see the the Cabals! He lost a squad and a half, and both his Cabals just in one ambush? Fuck!_

"Protect Victus!" Marcus roared, ramming his rifle butt across a cannibal's face and pouring an entire clip into its face. He watched his squad begin pouring fire on the converging Reaper troops, and Kasumi disappear into cloak as she snuck up behind a husk, driving her knife blade up through its jaw, and ripping it out again. He holstered his rifle, bringing out his hurricane SMG as he joined his fire with his squad's, all the while moving towards the bomb, mouth set in a grim line as he gunned down line after line of enemy troops mercilessly, pausing only to reload.

Husk after husk fell, riddled with bullets or dismembered, Marcus only pausing his advance to deal with a brute, the angry beast almost crushing him if it wasn't for James finishing it with two cobra missiles, first one shattering its chest and the other blowing its head apart. Only then did he continue his advance, blowing through the neverending hordes of the Reaper legions.

He finally reached them, finding Truius bent down over a portable terminal, typing into it rigorously as he seemed to hack into the bomb. Tarquin stood over him, crouched and keeping any husks back from the injured soldier. Marcus could only watch as another black watchsmen fell beside him, head torn asunder by a cannibal's arm cannon. He needn't have tried to avenge him, as Wrex came up behind the cannibal, batting it aside like a fly and leaving it for Keeling to finish off, the N7 placing a single bullet through its skull before moving on.

"Set up a perimeter around the bomb!" Marcus barked, motioning to his squad and the remainder of the turian platoon, "Noone gets to this bomb!" Without even a second glance, he turned back to Tarquin, both of their armor looking like they had taken a dip in black tar. He crouched beside him, the exhaustion palpable on the turian's face, Tarquin himself lowering his rifle.

"Spirits, I should have sent in a scout!" he growled, "They were practically waiting for us! They blew the railing, sent a whole squad to their deaths...and now my last two cabals are dead! I've only got half a squad to account for, and we can't hope to hold this position much longer!"

"Look, Tarquin, we need to get this bomb disarmed!" Marcus stated firmly, motioning to the massive device above them, "Anything less than success in unacceptable! Disarm that fucking bomb!"

"I'm trying my best!" Truius snapped back, typing furiously at his terminal like a maniac, "But this bomb has top level encryption!"

"Just work at it!" Tarquin snarled, slapping his shoulder, "You're the only one who can! Just get it done!"

"Marcus!"

He turned to the source of the voice, finding Garrus rushing towards him. He frowned angrily, standing up as he motioned to the perimeter, "I told you to man the perimeter! What the hell are you doing!?"

"The bomb!" Garrus began, turning to look angrily at Tarquin before pointing to the bomb, "Its not Reaper!"

That didn't shock him, he didn't think it looked Reaper either, but the tone turian's ensured tone wasn't helping that feeling. He fixed Garrus with a fixed stare, shaking his head, "Garrus-"

"Look!" he pointed to the bomb above and Marcus simply looked up, not bothering to acknowledge the turian's request. However, it wasn't long before his eyes widened, and then furrowed in fury.

A winged bird, its arms spread and a language inscribed below it. But there was no mistaking it: the insignia of the Turian Hierarchy.  _It isn't a Reaper bomb...its a turian bomb._

He turned to Tarquin, anger in his face, "What the fuck is this?"

"Believe me, I was just as surprised when I found out. And that my father didn't tell you," Tarquin said resignedly, shaking his head, "Apparently the Hierarchy put the bomb here after the Rebellions in case the genophage didn't work. If the krogan got roudy again, we'd detonate the bomb and destroy Tuchanka; its based off the same technology the krogan used to destroy Rothla. Spirits damned conspiracies were wrong...not krogan super biotics, a krogan super bomb. So we used the same means to build our own and ensure the krogan did not return to threaten the galaxy again."

"Classified," Garrus snorted, "Yeah, I can see why."

"Your father wasn't worried about the turian-krogan alliance as much as he was worried about the fallout and retribution that would result from the krogan finding out about this," Marcus growled, coming to stand inches from Tarquin's face, "And  _you,_ you piece of shit, should have told us about this."

"Oh, so its my fault?" Tarquin snapped, waving a hand in the captain's face, "Because my people planted that bomb a thousand years ago, its suddenly my fault? In case you forgot, we're here to  _stop_ this bomb from going off! It was supposed to lie dormant, forgotten, never to be used! But the Reapers just had to find it and dig it up! Now they want to detonate it. The Hierarchy found out and sent me and my platoon to stop it.  _That_ is the truth. Choose to believe me or not, but I will finish this, with or without you."

Marcus contemplated this, looking between him and the bomb. In the end, Tarquin was right; he was here to stop the bomb from detonating, to fix a turian mistake and stop it from blowing up in their faces. And he was going to help him fix this.

He turned back to him, shaking his head, "No, you're in the right, Victus. We just need to make this right. You protect Truius and Garrus while they disarm the bomb. Me, my squad and the rest of your platoon will keep the perimeter secure." He turned, ready to make his way back when suddenly a loud gunshot wizzed past his shoulder, and he instantly turned back...

...only to watch Truius slump back, a hole in his head leaking blue blood, the terminal slipping from his fingers and clattering to the ground. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, lifeless and dead. It took Tarquin a moment to realize what had happened, and when he did, he roared, "No! No no no! Not him!" All the turian could do was gaze at the leaking hole in the man's forehead, unable to save him as he was already dead.

"Garrus," Marcus regretfully began, "Get the terminal and continue the hack."

"Don't bother," Tarquin lamented, dropping his rifle. He then let out a long bellow as he slammed his fist into one of the bomb's metal extenders, "Its in the old language and most of the encryption is a millenium old. He won't understand it."

"He's right, Marcus," Garrus began, before the captain could interrupt, "I wouldn't know where to start. I can only understand modern encryption, where the old encryption and protocols haven't been used for at least two centuries."

Marcus could only look hopelessly between them, gritting his teeth. Finally, he let out a roar of his own, falling to his knees as his gaze turned to the Reaper hordes around them, his squad keeping them at bay. He saw what remained of Tarquin's platoon; now reduced to two soldiers, the rest lying dead in growing pools of blood. They sacrificed their lives to stop their own bomb from going off, to stop the Reapers from using it for their own means, and now they had died for nothing. Their only hope for stopping the bomb...gone.

"There has to be another way..." he muttered.

Tarquin turned and frowned at him, having picked up his rifle, sighted down range and fired, taking out an abomination before turning back, confused, "What?"

"There must be another way of stopping this fucking bomb!" Marcus snarled, still on his knees, rotating to face Tarquin, "We cannot give up now! There must be a way! If this bomb goes off, the war will already be lost."

The turian took a second to consider that, and then lowered his weapon, looking up at the massive explosive before him. To it, he must have seemed tiny, the weapon being bigger than six kodiak shuttles. He seemed to spot something because he quickly holstered his weapon, and began fast-walking towards it, "Give me some cover. I think there's a way."

He nodded, Marcus getting to his feet as he ordered Garrus to rejoin the group and coordinate them while he directly gave Tarquin covering fire. After a single burst from his SMG however, he turned, turning to look at the turian lieutenant, who had hit a control panel on the side that caused multiple rungs to appear; a ladder, leading all the way to the top of the bomb, crossing directly over the Hierarchy insignia. The turian began to climb it, his eyes dead set on his target.

Marcus couldn't help his curiosity, "What's the plan, Victus?"

The turian did not stop his climb, but he did speak into his comm as he went, climbing higher and higher towards the bomb's apex, "See the extenders? They are the only things holding the bomb above the hole the Reapers dug it out of. If..." he exhaled, climbing another rung, having almost missed it, but continuing unimpeded, "...I can get up there, I should be able to disengage the clamps holding the extenders in place and then climb back down in time before the bomb breaks loose and falls back into the hole."

"That's the plan?" Marcus asked incredulously, shaking his head, "Are you sure that'll end the threat of his bomb?"

"Its a non-impact bomb. Detonation only," Tarquin explained, "If it hits something hard, it won't explode, but the shell will shatter. The bomb was designed so that if the shell was compromised, the bomb's circuits would be scrambled to prevent subsequent detonation. In short, if the shell cracks, which it will when this bomb falls, the bomb will become, effectively, useless."

"Smart thinking," Marcus complimented, turning back around to fire a burst into another abomination that had snuck behind their lines, its body exploding in a red hot cloud. He quickly reloaded and continued his defense, "I just hope this plan of yours works. This is a big gamble."

"Its the only choice we have!" Tarquin shouted back and with a final exert, he must have reached the top. As if to confirm his thoughts, the turian spoke once more, "I'm at the top. I can see the clamps and I'm moving to disengage them now."

"How long do you need?" Marcus asked.

"Ten minutes," Tarquin replied, "Did I mention they require alot of strength and time to pull the levers out of place?"

"You've got five. Get to it," he replied and then was forced to duck low as a praetorian flew over him, missing him by a foot. The praetorian screeched its irritation as Marcus pulled out his claymore, turning to face the large, aerial gunship. The purple eyed monstrosity turned towards him, its maw letting out another screech as its eyes glowed brighter.  _Oh for fuck sake..._ Out of instinct, he rolled to the side just in time to avoid twin lances of purple energy that shot past him, hitting the railing nearby and reducing it to a bubbly mass of steel coloured, superheated liquid.

The non-sapient gunship leapt at him with lightning speed, clawing at him at with its scythe-like appendages, attempting to impale him. He ducked and blocked each swipe with his arm, and after the fifth one, drew his omni-blade. Swiping it past, he heard a sizzle, followed by one of the arms falling to the ground, and then the second. Roaring in rage, the praetorian charged, sending him flying onto the ground in a heap as it loomed over him, charging his purple beams.

Activating his omni-bow, he brought it up, past the praetorian's barriers, and fired. The superheated round easily blew through its left eye socket, and causing it to scream as the entire eye simply disappeared. He repeated the same with the other eye until it was totally blind, flailing around like a wounded animal. It twisted and turned, backing away as it futiley attempted to regain its eyesight.

Marcus simply raised his omni-bow one last time, aimed at its chest, and blew a hole straight through it. What was left of the creature screamed as it self-vaporized itself into a purple haze of vapor, crackling on the ground like a lighning puddle before gurgling away into nothing. With a heavy exhale, he turned to look up, comming Tarquin once more, "How's it coming, Victus?"

A metal groan was his answer, followed by a snap as the first extender came loose, snapping back into its prone form. "That's one down, two to-" a loud beep interrupted him, and Marcus knew it was close due to just how loud it was; had to be to be heard over the firefight behind him. He looked to where a screen on the bomb was located, and watched as a countdown now appeared on it.  _Oh fuck. Vanguard's triggered the bomb. Its going to blow._

"What just happened?" Tarquin asked from above, practically shouting, "I heard a beep."

"Its the bomb!" Marcus barked, "Vanguard's activated it! He must have realized what you were doing and triggered the bomb to detonate! Hurry up!" He wanted to continue, but his eyes landed on the countdown, and his world almost completely shrunk to nothing when he saw it.

_00:50. 00:49. 00:48._

_We only have 47 seconds to save Tuchanka and the krogan people. We're fucked. We're completely fucked._

"Victus," Marcus began, gulping, "We only have forty seconds till detonation. Mission abort, I repeat, mission abort!" he switched to his other comm, "Cortez, we need extraction,  _now_! You've got thirty seconds to get your ass down here!" He turned to look back up at Tarquin, ignoring Cortez's response, "Victus, get down from there now! Mission abort, damn it! We're out of time!"

"No."

He froze, looking up with anger on his face, "No? You'll get your ass down here soldier, right now! Its over! We can't stop the bomb! The Normandy will have to destroy it from orbit!"

"There's no time for that and you know it. We both know it," Tarquin replied, his voice sounding forlorn, "There's only one hope. I'll have to pull out the fuel rods. They keep the mechanics for the extenders operational, if I pull both out...they'll all disengage immediately." Before Marcus could muster another objection, the turian appeared, holding tightly onto the sides of the bomb as he lowered himself towards what looked to be two cylinders in the side of the bomb's superstructure; the fuel rods.

The turian almost fell, but he managed to grab hold off a jutting piece of metal on the mainframe and pulled himself up, holding himself up with one hand. Without paying attention to what was happening below, he reached up and grabbed hold of the top rod, twisting it anti-clockwise and then sliding it out, pulling with all his might before letting it dangle below, its weight too much. He let go, letting it fall below. Reaching up, he grabbed hold of the second rod, repeating the same action. Marcus looked back, gulping.

_00:21. 00:20. 00:19._

He looked back up, "Do it Victus! Then get your ass down here for extraction!" If this worked, then the entire krogan people would thank Tarquin Victus.

His smile fell when he saw Tarquin look down at him sadly, his eyes meeting his, regret and sorrow in them.

"Victory... _at any cost._ " And then he yanked the rod out, letting it fall below. And with it, the extenders snapped back, and the bomb fell.

Marcus could only watch in horror as the bomb took Tarquin Victus with it, the man losing his grip and falling below, the bomb racing to meet him; He raced over and fell to his knees, watching Tarquin disappear into the darkness below, the turian making no sound in his death; completely content. Even after the sound of the bomb impacting below could be heard, he simply sat there, looking down below, unable to comprehend what had just come to pass.

_He's gone. Tarquin Victus...he just sacrificed his life to save the krogan race and Tuchanka._

After a while of silence, the Reaper forces having pulled out, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up, meeting Liara's eyes, "We should go, Marcus. The Primarch...Victus will want to know what happened to his son."

He silently nodded, standing up as he turned, noticing that the shuttle had already landed and everyone was inside, watching him as he stalked towards it. He noticed that none of the members of the First Platoon were inside; not a single one had survived.  _They will be remembered for their bravery. What they did here today will not be so easily forgotten. I'll make sure of it._

He sat down, removing his helmet as he wiped at his eyes, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.  _I promised Victus I'd return his son to him and help him complete his mission. I promised to bring Tarquin back to his wife. I failed. Yeah, he completed his mission, but at the cost of his own life and that of his entire platoon. Those fine men and women...they died to save a species they had no reason to show compassion for._ It had just occurred to Marcus that this may be the first death under his command during this war.  _How many more will follow? When will it start to get personal?_ He looked over to Garrus, gulping as he quickly yanked his eyes away, looking at the floor as the shuttle lifted off.

_It could have been Garrus who died today. Instead it was a Primarch's son._

This war had truly begun for Marcus Shepard.

**{Loading...}**

_June 16, 2186_

_0808 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Primarch Adrien Victus._

"Any other bombs I should know about?" Wrex growled, slamming a fist into the table, "Maybe there's one with a new genophage hidden in my camp? Should I know about that? What other secrets are the Hierarchy keeping on Tuchanka? And what about the Council? Have the salarians or the asari hidden anything?"

Victus, for his part, looked unwithered, unflappable, "The bomb was a necessary precaution, Wrex. What your people did during the Rebellions were barbaric, destructive, desolative. We had to make sure your people weren't coming back. The bomb was simply a contingency incase the genophage failed to keep you in check. We couldn't risk your kind laying waste to us again."

"The genophage wasn't enough!" Wrex snapped, "You had to plant a bomb on our planet!"

"It was for the greater good of the galaxy!" Victus returned.

"ENOUGH!" Marcus barked, and both of them fell silent, "BOTH OF YOU! I have had enough of this bullshit! What happened, happened! We can't change that! But now its history and its time to fucking move on. What matters now is that the bomb was destroyed, and its no longer a threat to the krogan. Wrex has already informed Wreav and he's sending men to retrieve the remnants of the bomb and are disposing of it quietly. What we should be worried about is the 300 feet tall Reaper currently talking Tuchanka's wastelands."

"Yes, I'm sure my son will be happy to extend his gratitude," Victus concluded, turning to Marcus, frowning, "Where is my son? I haven't seen him or his platoon yet."

It was then that his anger dissipated, replacing it was sadness. Sorrow. Regret. Melancholy. Self-anger at himself for not saving him. He still remembered Tarquin's final moments, and the words that came out of his mouth when he died.  _Victory at any cost._

"Primarch..." Marcus began, straightening as he met Victus' eyes, "I regret to inform you that First Platoon and your son...are KIA. They fought with bravery, valor and determination, but in the end, the Reaper forces were too much. His platoon was overwhelmed, and Lieutenant Victus was forced to sacrifice his life to ensure the bomb was stopped. He died like any soldier should sir; he died doing his duty. He completed the mission."

Victus looked like he someone had just slapped him in the face, and he simply stood there, looking at Marcus, his mandibles occassionally twitching. After a moment, he slowly looked down, as if the life had been sucked out of him. A low sound came from his mouth, something along the lines of a low keen, but he could barely make it out.

Then he suddenly looked up, "I...excuse me." And with that, he turned and left, racing out the door faster than any could possibly imagine. In just a few seconds, the Primarch was gone.  _Gone to mourn._ He had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing the Primarch for awhile, and he decided to leave him in peace.  _Poor man just lost the only family he had left._ He looked up, speaking, "EDI, make sure noone disturbs Primarch Victus for the rest of the day and tomorrow if necessary. He needs time to mourn."

"I...understand, Captain," EDI responded, with what sounded like...sadness? in her tone. Whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as EDI did. They were left standing there, only the noise of the crew working in the room being heard as the krogan and spectre stood side by side, both thinking.

"Fuck this war," Marcus finally got out, "Fuck this fucking war."

Wrex, for his part, remained silent, having nothing to say. In the end, nothing was really needed but his silence.

Finally, Marcus straightened, looking at the krogan with weary eyes, "I'm going to get some rest, Wrex. You better get some too." And without another word, he turned and left.

Wrex simply stood there, the sound of the War Room's silence almost deafening.

**"That was technically your first loss of the war, wasn't it?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Yes. And it was only going to get worse."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What occurred next? Records show you went to another world...Utukku, is that correct?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Correct. Utukku. A place where an old friend became a new enemy, if only in machine, and not in spirit."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Did this take awhile? Yes.** _

_**Did I lose inspiration towards the end? Yes.** _

_**Should I have stopped and come back to it later? No, otherwise Holocaust would be forever done. I literally could not do this chapter properly, despite my best efforts. In the end, I decided to wing it. I just hope it doesn't feel too rushed.** _

_**Up next is Utukku. I hope you guys are ready for some Grunt.** _

_**Poor Primarch Victus. Lost his wife and son. :(** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	21. Songs of Virtue, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrex sends Aralakh company to investigate the disappearance of his men on Utukku: Shepard is more than willing to help them, especially when he finds out who's leading them.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN:**

**SONGS OF VIRTUE PART ONE**

_June 17, 2186_

_1242 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

The shuttle bay was quite the bustle of activity at that present moment. They had once again docked with the Citadel for routine resupply, which meant fresh food, bullets, weapons and shells were being shipped in and out of the shuttle bay, Cortez and Gardner, being the ship's provisioner and custodian respectively, ordering it to certain locations and where they wanted them to be. Marcus could barely exit the elevator without being swarmed by workers holding crates of supplies, or moving spare parts. He even watched the shuttle's cannons being reloaded, while the Mako lay untouched; all vehicles had kept to the old heat sink technology over the thermal clip.  _Got to get around to using that thing. Got a tank and don't even use it._

But that was not his target for discussion.

As he strode into the shuttle bay, he noticed just how different it looked without all the cabling...and how different it looked compared to the Normandy under Cerberus. By comparison, he definitely preferred Cerberus'.  _Never thought I'd say that, but the Alliance retrofit...made the place look depressing. Its not helping my sour mood._

He hadn't taken much notice of it before, but the new bay was completely cluttered with crates. It wasn't as ridiculous as it had been before the full retrofit on the Citadel, but still pretty damn obsessive. Many of them were open and on the ground, their contents available for the whole world to see; whether they be weapons, food rations or Garrus' personal calibrations cache. It was...necessary, but silly looking, all the same.

One of the frigate's kodiaks obviously had to be replaced thanks to James crashing it on Mars weeks back, and now sat in its cradle behind James' personal weapons bench and workout area. The armoury had been fully stocked, which was where he had chosen a turian phaeston assault rifle to replace his mattock. Suddenly he stopped his scanning, the word 'turian' ringing hollow in his mind. Images of Tarquin's sacrifice filled his mind, and he shook his head, squinting his eyes to will the memories away.

The thoughts left a cold, unwanted feeling in his body, and he felt frozen all of a sudden, shaking himself to get rid of the horrible feeling. Despite not knowing him, the turian's death still haunted him, especially when the father of said soldier was still onboard, likely still grieving. He had returned to the War Room shortly after leaving, but the man's expression and stance was more stoic than usual; more...rigid. He was still grieving, but in his own turian way.

He forced them away, willing them away as he focused on why he was here.  _He died bravely, and what matters most is that he saved the krogan people from extinction. Wrex won't forget that easily._ He sighed, nodding to himself as he heard a feminine grunt, followed by what sounded like a krogan chuckling. Wrex. Despite his thoughts, that brought a smile to Marcus' face as he approached its location; behind one of the support pillars, and inbetween a particular row of crates.  _Wait, that's not Wrex's area, that's Keeling's._

As he made his way over, he heard a gunshot, and almost flexed up as he felt his hand move down to the Paladin sidearm at his hip. He looked over to Cortez, who simply shook his head at him, reassuring him.

"Its just Keeling and Wrex practicing," the pilot told him, shaking his head with a smile as he continued doing whatever he was doing with one of the starboard shuttle's thrusters, "They've been at it all morning. Haven't stopped. Constantly trying to outdo each other. I heard Keeling call it 'professional weighing of skills.' I call it a pissing contest. But hey, who asks the pilot?" The pilot finished his rant, continuing his work as Marcus' hand relaxed, the spectre smiling as he chuckled.

Another voice rang from the other side of the bay, coming from the elevator as the marine spoke, "That's right Esteban, learning your place. Don't question the 'professional weighing of skills.' Its a marine's way of saying 'these are my skills, everybody see 'em?'"

"Maybe you should take a course in 'professional weighing of skills' in terms of flying," Cortez remarked, "Just try not to kill the driver."

"No pain, no gain," was James' deadpan response, Marcus turning to see that the marine was carrying what looked to be a makeshift banana smoothie, and a plate of sausages and basic potatoes. He moved over to his workout area, placing the plate down on his bench and taking a large sip from his smoothie as he placed it down on the bench.

Cortez only laughed, turning back to Marcus, "Don't worry about him, Shepard. He's all gain, no pain."

"You watch yourself Esteban!" James shouted, "I might crash your shuttle!"

Deciding to evacuate before either side lusted for him to pick a side, he moved under the steel pillar and around one of the crates, turning left to find his targets.

Keeling had obviously been hard at work converting this area into her personal place. Some of the crates had been shifted apart to place a rudimentary bunk, with a thin looking mattress and basic, yellow sheet ontop and fat white pillow lying on the metal floor. Her Valkyrie heavy rifle lay against a wall, a new thermal scope clearly having been added to it to counter Cerberus centurion smoke screens, along with her armor carefully laid out, a paint brush left dripping still wet paint onto the floor from where she repainted her scarred N7 battle armor. On the right and directly ahead was the firing range; four crates lined at the end of the bay and far enough away for Garrus to have a challenge. The crates themselves were riddled with bullet holes...and new ones being fired into them.

One of the crates jerked again as a shot hit it, but this time it was almost completely eviscerated as the impact sent a loud bang throughout the bay as the crate slammed against the wall. The perpertrator was made clear when Wrex chuckled, pumping his claymore once more.

Keeling gave a grunt, lowering her still smoking rifle as she regarded the krogan next to her, "I thought shotguns were widespread, not direct shot. That shot should have spread far out and completely fallen short."

"For a normal shotgun, yeah," Wrex responded, turning towards her as he too lowered his weapon, "The claymore's different. Fires two shells at the exact time, both superheated so that the first shot, the biggest one, continues to shoot forward like the usual bullet, while the second splits up and scatters like a normal shot. You think krogan are stupid? Well the first shot is powerful enough to decimate armor, and the second makes sure that if you do miss, the second shot won't. And the first can go for quite a while before hitting something; like a miniture MAC round."

"Impressive. You krogan knew how to build weapons," Keeling stated, putting down her vindicator and leaning it against the wall next to her. She turned to the krogan, holding out her hand, "I'm still not convinced the rifle is inferior, as the claymore is only one example of a shotgun, but I'm willing to concede your point, as long as I get to exercise in peace."

"You are such a marine stereotype," Marcus quipped, gaining both of their attentions, "Ever thought of being human, Keeling?"

The N7 nodded, hands clasped behind her back, "Sir."

"Shepard," Marcus corrected.  _God, she's like Kal with Tali. Sir this, sir that,_ "And you didn't answer my question, Lieutenant."

Keeling gulped, shaking her head, "Its a marine's duty to keep fit, sir. Especially during war time."

"I keep in peak physical condition, but as you can see, I'm socializing," Marcus replied.  _Am I criticizing her? Is that what I'm doing? Stop that soldier, you have no right to question her schedule. Your ship, her duties._

Keeling nodded, "So you are sir, but our personalities differ. Your cybernetics keep you physically fit almost perputually and you have friends to talk to. I do not have cybernetics sir; I must work to keep up my physicality. That, and I do not have many friends. No time for them."

He sighed, taking a deep breath, "Take a break at some point, and just socialize. That's how you make friends, Keeling. Not by avoiding them all together."  _Great, now you're lecturing her on how to make friends. You're just an upright asshole, Mark._

The woman seemed to coldly regard him for a moment, before slowly nodding, "I'll take that into account, sir."  _'I don't like your attitude sir, but out of respect for authority, I won't say anything insubordinate, sir,' was what her thoughts said, I bet. And how can you blame her? You bludgeoned into her personal lifestyle like an artillery shell into a bunker. Pull yourself together and knock off that bullshit. You're here to command and kill Reapers, and the odd tidbit of diplomacy. Forget making more friends. You've got a wealth of them already._

_And a wife off somewhere._

He nodded to her, "Thank you, Keeling."  _Fuck you too, Mark._ He turned to Wrex, trying to turn down his attitude into something more cordial.  _Maybe its Tarquin's death...its affected me worse than I thought. But that's no excuse to disrespect my fellow officers...not an excuse, not an excuse, not an excuse!_ He eyed Wrex, meeting his eyes.

"You wanted to see me Wrex?" Marcus asked, remembering what he was here for, "You made it sound like it was important."  _So important that you actually showed shock in your words._ The krogan had let shock and surprise show in his words, and he knew that if it had a krogan like that, it had to be important.

The battlemaster nodded, holstering his claymore as he turned to Keeling, "Another time, Keeling," he said as he turned back to Marcus, waving him out of the area. Marcus shot Keeling one final glance as she saluted him, before turning and dropping to the floor, beginning her pushups. He turned away, hands still clasped behind his back as he followed Wrex to his his little corner at the edge of the bay.  _She's going to regard me coldly now, and its all because I was a dickhead. I'll have to fix that later._

_Remember, no more friends. You have enough. The more friends you have, the quicker you'll feel the pain of death._

_And Tarquin wasn't even a friend._

They reached the corner quickly where Wrex had set up shop; a simple mattress all that occupied it. Reaching it, he smiled at the krogan's carelessness for simple housing as the krogan dropped his shotgun ontop of it, the shotgun sinking into the mattress due to its immense mass. As he arrived though, his smile dropped as Wrex turned to him, any of the mirth the krogan was feeling back there now gone.

"This is serious Shepard," Wrex stated, "And I might need your help investigating something. I contacted you because this is something only you, me, Garrus, Kaidan, Liara and Tali would understand, and only you are in command of this ship."

He raised his eyebrows at the krogan, "What is it, Wrex? What needs investigating in the middle of a war?"

"Remember three years ago on Noveria?" the krogan asked, red eyes regarding him casually, "When we freed that rachni queen?"

"I remember it clearly," the spectre asked, not liking where this is going, "What has any of this got to do-"

"I think one of my teams found them Shepard," Wrex interrupted, deciding to get straight to the point, but there was no relief on his face, "A planet called Utukku, in the Ninmah Cluster, Mulla Xul System. Terrible planet; less habitable than Tuchanka, and that's saying alot."

He shrugged, "What's so bad about that? With her found, we can go there and ask her to join the war effort."  _With the rachni on our side, the Reapers will lose the advantage of numbers on the ground. They may have hordes, but so do the rachni, and they can reproduce and mature a hell of alot faster than the Reapers can make husks._

Wrex sighed, straightening his back as he cracked his neck, "What's bad is that the team I sent in hasn't reported back, and when I sent a scout to find out what happened, they only found one survivor; the leader. Urdnot Dagg, and he wasn't already dying by the time we got there. And you won't like what he said."

"What?" Marcus growled, "What did he say!?"

Wrex was surprised by the man's sudden rage, but replied nontheless, "He said the rachni had returned but...Shepard, I'm sorry, but the Reapers got to them first. When his team got inside, the rachni were twisted and turned into Reaper husks. His team was completely overwhelmed by them."

Marcus gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he hated the unfairty of it.  _The Reapers must have known of the advantage the rachni had and utilized it. But if the rachni have been huskified, and the Reapers now have them under their control..._

"How long ago did this happen," Marcus asked silently after a few moments, turning to Wrex once more. The krogan frowned at him, but answered despite this.

"Six days ago. I've only just now been informed of it," Wrex stated, "Why?"

"We're going to Utukku. Not to investigate," Marcus stated, "No, its too late. No, we're going to Utukku, with the whole squad, and we're going to destroy everything on it. The queen, the rachni, everything. If we can't have the rachni, neither can the Reapers. I won't allow them to utilize the rachni to their advantage. We'll go in there and purge everything. If we fail on foot, the Normandy will bomb it from orbit. I'll requsition Hackett for a HAVOC tactical nuke."

"A nuke? Those are hard to come by," Wrex stated, "Are you sure you just want to destroy the rachni, Shepard?"

"Hackett will give me one when he sees the enormity of what we're looking at it. The rachni are serious collateral damage waiting to happen, especially if we don't keep this contained to Utukku," Marcus declared forlornly, "I'll worry about the nuke, as for the rachni...if the Reapers have gotten to them, then its probably already too late. We have no idea how long the Reapers have had their grip on the queen, and for all we know, she's probably indoctrinated. For all intents and purposes, the rachni are a lost cause." He stated.

"Then why go in on foot?" Wrex asked, "Why not just nuke it from orbit?"

 _Because I want to believe they can still be saved._ "To personal assess the size of the damage. I want to see just what the Reapers did to them so I can confirm to myself that a nuke is the only option. Besides, launching a nuke from orbit would be useless if the rachni have a cave network like Utukku's. I have read up on the planet before. It had been the sight of a batarian outpost," he replied, "No, we'd need to take the nuke inside via shuttle and deploy it inside. We'll clear the way, then Cortez will come in and drop it off."

"Or just have a krogan carry it," Wrex replied, "I'm calling in back up for this. These are rachni, Shepard; we're taking no chances. I'll contact Wreav and have him send in my best commandos; Aralakh Company. Besides, I think you'll like who's in command. Make of that what you will."

Marcus solemnly nodded, turning away as he did to look out across the bay, "I don't want to do this, Wrex. I hope you realize that. We needed the rachni so badly, but if they've been corrupted by the Reapers...its an advantage we can't afford to let them keep."

All he heard was a huff from the krogan as he backed away, "You won't get any arguments from me, Shepard. The rachni were my people's ancient enemy, or at least the one the galaxy gave us, and I'm sure Aralakh will take pleasure in destroying their enemy reborn. The worst we lose is an asset."

"Something which, in this war, is a priceless commodity," Marcus bluntly responded, rubbing his temples as he turned to face Wrex with cold eyes, "I hope you know this Wrex: I  _don't_  take pleasure in doing this. I gave the rachni queen a chance to rebuild her species in peace, and she did that. The Reapers shattered that peace, turned her people, and likely herself, into abominations. I will not allow her memory to be tarnished like that. This nuclear weapon is a mercy. An efficient one as well, as killing every single rachni one-by-one is a waste of logistics, and the UGC cannot spare the equipment. And unfortunately Wrex, a single krogan company and us isn't going to cut it; I'm sure your commandos are the best of the best, but so are we, and we're talking about a rachni horde here. There are likely thousands."

"Makes sense," Wrex pondered, turning to him, "Think we could call upon the UGC for some troops? No warships or bombers; just a few soldiers. The elite. We're going to need special forces to tackle this thing, not a bunch of scared pyjaks."

"I know a few spectres I could rein in," Marcus noted, "And I'll get in contact with Balak and the hanar; see what troops they can send. Balak I might need to use a little leverage with, but I think he'll understand what's at stake, even if he's an arrogant piece of shit."

"I hope you know what you're doing Shepard," Wrex growled lightly, eying the man with...worry? Wrex feeling worried for someone? "This is alot of men we're throwing into the meat grinder. Many not make it out. You sure you want to waste the troops?"

"Its less costly than arranging a permanent blockade of the system," Marcus replied a-matter-of-factly, "Not that that would work. If the Reapers really wanted to, they'd only need to send a token battlegroup to smash the blockade and they'd be shipping legions of rachni husks. Damn it, we can't keep calling them rachni husks; any thoughts? What did they look like?"

"Ravagers," Wrex replied lowly, "Dagg apparently called them Ravagers before he...died. Considering what he looked like after what they did to him, its a fitting name. Never seen anything like it."

"Ravager?" Marcus quoted, quirking an eyebrow, "What happened to Dagg?"

"He was totally eviscerated. When my men found him, they had gouged out his eyes, peeled off his crest, totally destroyed his jaw, broken most of his teeth, shot him with a cannon powerful enough to disembowel him, and blown off one of his arms. The amount of injuries totally overloaded his regeneration; couldn't heal in time. Eventually, he bled to death. Probably the first krogan to do so, too."

"Noone from Dagg's team survived? Not a single one? Not even a lone trooper?" Marcus asked.

Wrex shook his head, "None that my men found. Maybe one survived in there, but...its been six days. Ravagers likely found him by now and killed him...or them. No, no survivors. Dagg was the only one, if you can even count him, and he's dead."

"This is some serious shit," Marcus replied, leaning against the steel frame of a support strut. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his eyes and stood up fully, nodding to the krogan, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Wrex. This needs to be dealt with, and you did the right thing bringing this to me."

"I didn't do this out of the goodness of my heart," Wrex chuckled harshly, standing up as he showed just how tall he was; towering over Marcus' powerfully built frame, "Krogan don't have good hearts, remember? No, I did this because 1. This is a mistake we made, and 2. Those are krogan they killed. They destroyed their camp, slaughtered them, and basically left Dagg out there as a warning to any reinforcements. These things need to die, and I want to be there."

Marcus nodded, barely fazed by the krogan's size, "Very well, Wrex. I was going to bring the entire squad anyway." He turned and looked up, "EDI, I know you heard this conversation so there's no point. Just set a course-" he halted himself, shook his head and turned to Cortez, "Actually, belay that order. Cortez," the pilot turned from his work bench, having finished with the shuttle thruster, his plasma torch lying ontop of his console, "I want you to get in contact with SAFAML and procure us a full set of flamethrowers, Firestorm models if possible. And tell them that with them, I want three fuel tanks each. Procure enough for...say, a platoon."

Cortez nodded, turning back to the console as he began to access the Systems Alliance Fleet And Marine Logistics network. He looked up, addressing EDI once more, "Punch the coordinates for Utukku into the galaxy map but do not leave until we get that shipment of flamethrowers. Also, tell Traynor and Chambers that I want a message sent on the QEC to UGC HQ asking for a squad of hanar special forces and to ask Balak for some troops and if both are granted, to be dispatched to Utukku for RV. Tell them this is a priority one operation, and that the Reapers have acquired the rachni. Tell them that we need reinforcements, they should get that clear enough. If I'm needed, I'll be contacting Hackett in my cabin for a HAVOC nuke."

With that, he began to move over to the elevator, posture slackening as he relaxed his shoulders, moving over to the elevator as he called out to James, "Lieutenant! Stock up on all the heavy ammunition! Do we have any Revenants or Typhoons?"

James frowned at him with a mouth full of potato, the marine quickly chewing and swallowing as he called back, "As in plural? Why would we need them?"

Marcus stopped, glaring at the marine, "Do not question it marine, just tell me. Do we have them?"

"Hell yeah," James stated, "This ship's stocked to launch an assault on all the Council homeworlds combined. We've got 15 Revenants in stock, and at least few Typhoons. We've got a prototype M-622 Avalanche, fresh from Armax Arsenal and untested. We've also got an M-920 Cain, although its locked in the main locker. It requires a key from the captain to unlock it."

_Not surprised. The Cain's supposed to be a nuclear weapon inside a hand-held launcher. I'm not surprised its locked away where no fucking idiot can pick it up and fire it, accidentally mistaking it for a rocket launcher and then blow a hole in the ship._

"Bring it all out. Stock the ammo for them, and have them loaded onto the shuttle. All of it, including that Avalanche," he ordered, looking up, "EDI, open the locker and have move the Cain to the shuttle as well. I'll be using that weapon personally. And have Javik get down here to move it; I don't trust James not to accidentally fire the fucking thing."

"Hey!"

"Shut it Vega and get to work," Marcus snapped, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the top deck. The next few days would be very busy, and he had no doubt it was going to get very messy, too.

Carrying a nuke with him didn't exactly alleviate his concerns.

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1337 hours._

_Krogan Camp, Unknown Underground Cave Network, Southern Hemisphere, Utukku._

_The Reaper War, Operation: Quarantine._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, EDI, Platoon Sergeant Opold._

The entire shuttle was full of some of the most heavily armed SOBs in the galaxy at that very moment. And that spoke volumes. They looked like they were about to attack the heart of the Reaper fleet itself, they had such weaponry.

Marcus wore his Terminus Assault Armor, with his kinetic barriers overclocked to the maximum output. He carried only his claymore shotgun on the back of his waist, and a single Paladin sidearm strapped to his hip. In his grip he felt a deactivated and collapsed M-451 Firestorm flamethrower, as did the rest of his squad. He wore a backpack on his back, the old marine attire from back in the days of the United States Marine Corps, and inside was all three of his fuel tanks, along with extra thermal clips, the Cain, and a Typhoon HMG; a weight only he could carry, anyone else, even James, would hurt his back trying to carry it all. He wore two bandoliers of grenades across his chest, and every pocket on his armor was carrying thermal clips. His armor was totally locked down, which meant he couldn't remove his helmet, but it would also make sure that every crevice was totally locked and meant no stray shots would get through. Everybody else in his squad was similiarly equipped; primary weapon being a flamethrower, a backpack with their three fuel tanks, a support weapon, more thermal clips, and at least a single bandolier of grenades. As for Garrus, he still carried his sniper rifle, and Javik his particle rifle, the latter saying 'this flamethrower...it is a primitive weapon. Efficient, but not to my needs.' Marcus couldn't argue with a 50,000 year old warrior on the thoughtlessness of such a decision, but decided to roll with it.

As for Wrex, his flamethrower was on a harness now wrapped around his shoulder as he stood next to the HAVOC nuke; it was small for the payload it carried, but it would not be underestimated and definitely not any mistakes made about it; this nuke would totally destroy Utukku's surface for six kilometers. It was a 2 megaton thermonuclear payload; ten times that of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, which meant they were not to be fucking around with it.

They weren't the only ones inside; they were now accompanied by a full squad of hanar Marines; their special forces, but not to be confused with the usual Marine Corps. These hanar were, quite comically, dressed in their own battle armor, a bright green in color, and holding twin pistols, rifles or shotguns. Comical, but hanar were quite lethal in combat; especially when they could hold a weapon with each tentacle. As for the batarians, they had sent men, but straight to Utukku, where the Primacy had men on the Citadel and sent them straight to the Normandy.

The shuttle hovered in the air as it began to descend upon the krogan camp, Marcus shifting to the hatch as he rolled his neck, stretching the muscles there as he prepared to deploy. Once he was the ground, it was all business.  _Don't think about Tali. Don't think about Cerberus. Don't worry about the squad's feelings, or of being an asshole to Keeling. Just worry about the mission; get to the center of the hive, deploy the nuke, extract, and remotely detonate. Should be quick, if the rachni...the ravagers, don't push too hard. But if they do...well, that's what the heavy weaponry is for._

Before he knew it, the hatch shot open, the warm Utukku air filling the cabin, Mulla Xul glaring angrily in the sky. From what he could see, red mountains of jagged rocks and crimson dust littered the landscape, not a single other landmark to be seen; just rocks, as far as the eye could see.  _A perfectly habitable planet, just lacking...beauty. The planet is ugly, and barren._ Even the sky seemed to have turned red from the intensity of the system's sun, and one couldn't even see the stars in space. Utukku was, for all intents and purposes, an ignored planet.  _Perfect for the rachni to make a new home unnoticed...obviously, the Reapers put an end to that. How did they find them? The Reapers are vast, but I didn't think they'd find the rachni this quickly._

The landscape, thankfully, vanished as they passed a rock cliff and descended into the ground level of the cave network. Quickly coming into view was an abandoned camp, numerous portable bunkers littering the landscape, but obviously scarred. Orange blood was crusted on the walls, and there were two corpses gathered in a corner, hands on their chests, showing that even the krogan respected the dead. One crack in the landscape had a bunker teetering on the edge.  _Did the rachni...burrow under the camp?_ Such a thought brought images of the Thresher Maws on Akuze; how they burrowed under the colony, killing everyone in mists of gore...

He remained stoic as the shuttle hit the ground, Marcus immediately stepping out onto the barren, dusty ground as he moved forward, keeping his flamethrower collapsed, his squad wordlessly following behind him. He turned at the last moment to watch Wrex carefully pick up the nuke and lift it over his shoulder with noticable effort on his face, the krogan grimacing from the weight. Marcus would have broken more than just his shoulder trying to lift it himself.  _Glad we have a krogan, but Wrex is going to be very vulnerable carrying that._

He turned back around, comming Cortez as he did, "I'll contact you when we need extraction. I've got the remote with me, so it won't be a timed detonation. We'll fly to a safe distance, and then safely blow it up."

"Copy that Captain," Cortez replied, "I'll see you topside. Stay safe." And with that, he watched the shuttle hatch shut, and the kodiak lift into the air, disappearing into the hole in the ceiling it used to enter the cave. Turning back around, he turned in time to watch the hanar float past, and what he assumed to be Aralakh Company appear, having already set up their own camp, and talking with what seemed to be the batarian squad.  _Balak kept his word. Good. He's learning._

"Who's the commander of this company?" Marcus addressed the lead krogan, who turned to address him with a glare, his black eyes baring into his, but Marcus did not back down, even if he was holding a claymore shotgun and wearing considerably heavy, and scarred, battle armor.  _Best of the best. Wrex wasn't kidding about that. These guys look like they've seen alot of shit. Crazy shit. They're veterans._

"You Captain Shepard?" the krogan asked back.

"I asked first, you answer," Marcus growled back, disliking the krogan's attitude.

"Sounds just like my battlemaster!" boomed a familiar that caused the krogan addressing him to turn towards it. Just as he did, a massive krogan, more bulkier and bigger than any of the krogan in the company, emerged from one of the bunkers, his own claymore strapped to his back and a Graal Spike Thrower in one hand. He had piercing blue eyes, and a massive crest, his crocodillian grin intimidating, but warming to Marcus. With every footfall the ground shook, the krogan picking up speed as he opened his arms, "Shepard!"

Marcus had to widen his eyes at the sight. It was Urdnot Grunt, the only krogan supersoldier in existence, "Grunt! Wrex said I'd like the commander, but I didn't think it'd be you!"

The krogan did not descend to hug him like Marcus feared, instead slapping him on the back as he gave his signature krogan chuckle, "Heh-heh-heh! Hahaha! Shepard! It is good to see you, battlemaster! I hope you have found as many enemies to kill as I have!"

"Grunt..." Marcus began, shaking his head, "Just what in the hell are you doing in command of a krogan company, especially one so accomplished as the Aralakh?"

Grunt nodded, his grin still persistent as he attached his spike thrower to the clamp on his back, "Chieftain Wrex and most of the Urdnot elders were impressed by how I killed that Thresher Maw on my Rite of Passage. They did not agree about having you as my krantt, except Wrex, but they were impressed by my feats. Most merely survived the Thresher Maw, not actually kill it."

"Wrex was the last one to do so. Before you of course," Marcus confirmed, "I do remember."

"Yeah, well when I returned to Tuchanka, Wrex saw that I was a worthy warrior, and asked if I believed in the Reaper threat. I told him I did. He then asked if I was loyal to my battlemaster," he looked over in Wrex's direction, the krogan having laid the nuke down and come to join them. He turned back to Marcus, a fire in his eyes, "I said I'd gladly fight beside my battlemaster and die gloriously defying the Reapers! Apparently that was enough for him to give me Aralakh Company. They didn't respect me at first, but they quickly learnt to shut up and follow my lead. They respect me now."

"We were having a meeting on Tuchanka about the Reapers. Some didn't believe me, and one actually challenged my authority," Wrex explained, laughing, "Grunt came up and tore him apart. The company never questioned him again. Grunt has earned their respect, and he's a capable warrior."

"As for you Shepard, I could ask you the same question," Grunt stated, Marcus turning back to face him, "Didn't those idiots lock you up?"

Marcus sighed, nodding, "They did, and quite a while to. I spent six months couped up in that room. But then the Reapers hit Earth," he almost mumbled, shaking his head, "I escaped on the Normandy. We've been fighting the Reapers ever since...and Cerberus."

Grunt nodded, "Finally get to fighting those pyjaks, did we? Good. I was looking forward to killing some of them. They really irritated me, especially when I found out they had a camera spying on me. Had to rip it out of the wall," he looked around, confused. Eventually, he turned back to Marcus, "Where's your mate? Where's the quarian?"

He sighed once more, finding the sound to be less comforting with every time he made it, "She's not here, Grunt. I don't know where she is," deciding to change the subject, he moved to speak about something else, but Grunt beat him to the punch, looking over Marcus' shoulder, grinning.

"I see you brought the turian with you," Grunt grinned, "And the little thief."

"I'm glad my name was worth remembering," Garrus dryly remarked, waving a hand, "Its good to see you again, Grunt. But we really need to work out these reunions. They always seem to involve combat zones and evacuating people."

"You'll get over it, Garbear," Kasumi replied teasingly, and he could practically feel her smirk, "You're not as important as you like to think."

"For the love of the spirits, just call me-"

The rest of their bickering became noise as Grunt turned to motion to Aralakh, the krogan all waiting for targets to kill, "And this...is my company. They're tough, think they're invincible. Reckless, but effective. Ruthless, but they get the job done," he turned back to Marcus, "I earned many scars making this command, but I made it all the same. These pyjaks know what line not to cross, and stay well behind it, be assured of that, battlemaster."

"You're the one in command, so stop calling me battlemaster," Marcus stated, crossing his arms, "So you're...?"

"Lord Companier," Grunt finished for him, "And you'll always be my battlemaster. Noone is stronger, more worthy, than you."

"How sweet," James remarked.

"Well, you were a pain in the ass Grunt," Marcus cut off, ignoring James' taunt, "But if your krogan are half the soldier you are, I think we won't need the reinforcements."

Grunt grinned, "Heh. Glad you're hear to crack some heads together, Shepard," suddenly his grin disappeared slightly, becoming one of slight anger as he turned away, fists clenching, "Hard to believe this might be rachni. Seems crazy," he stopped at the edge of one of the sinkholes that swallowed up a bunker, looking down into it as he crouched over it, "Rachni," he mumbled the word like it was some curse, "A chance to face the old enemy? Impossible to resist."

"My people once used the rachni as weapons, when we could control them," Javik piped up, gaining everyone's attention, "They were effective when tamed, but that was the problem: taming them was impossible. Eventually, we kept them quarantined to Suen, their homeworld, and purged every other planet into glass to contain them. I'm surprised they did not survive into this cycle. Your people destroyed them, but now they are back."

Grunt looked at the prothean with a disgusted frown, before turning back to Shepard, "What is-?"

"A prothean. The last one," Marcus quickly explained, having rehearsed it through his head.  _Am I going to need to explain that to everyone?_ "But moving on," he turned back to Javik, "How did your people few them, Javik?"

The prothean regarded him with the same cold stoicism he regarded everyone else with, "As animals, and cheap cannon fodder, but effective fodder, nonetheless. But they cannot be trusted: they will turn against you at the closest opportunity. Your decision to purge them was wise."

"They turned against your people because you tried to control them. To turn them into your personal pets," Liara added, glaring at the ancient soldier, "But if we had given them a chance, maybe they'd have helped us." Marcus noted that those words were meant for him.  _She's been sour ever since I told the crew what's happening. She doesn't like genocide, neither do I! But these rachni...the ravagers, have been corrupted already! They're already extinct, we're merely here for a mercy killing!_

"I hope you know what we're here for, Shepard," Grunt asked curiously, "Because it isn't to ask the rachni for help. They murdered the survey team we sent here, and the Reapers have corrupted them."

He jabbed a finger at the device at Wrex's feet, "We didn't bring a one megaton thermonuclear device just for fun, Grunt. We're going to head for the center of the hive, place the bomb, extract and reduce these caves to collapsed, radioactive rubble. I wanted the rachni as allies; that can't happen anymore, so we end what's left of them."

"Finally, now we're getting our priorities in order," a familiar croaky voice could be heard that could only be batarian. From behind Grunt the soldier appeared, wearing Batarian Blade Armor, a cigarette in his mouth flashing yellow after being freshly lit. When the batarian reached him, the rest of his squad reached him, and the soldier's four eyes regarded him closely, "You're Captain Shepard. Balak told us about you...and that you're not to be trusted."

"Funny...coming from a batarian," Marcus growled, moving until he was inches from the man's face, "You're here because we need to face a common foe. Anywhere else, anytime else, I'd shoot you on the spot and be no more regretful for it. Grunt would pummel your squad, and mine would finish what's left of you off. Luckily for you, I need the batarians, and you need us to stay alive. So here's the condition; you follow my command, you don't get in my way. You question me, I have you replaced with someone dependable. Do I make myself clear?"

The batarian snorted, nodding, "Don't get all racially pure on me, Shepard. I'm not your typical batarian, but that doesn't mean I trust humans," he moved away, "My people owned the Skyllian Verge. Did I hate your kind for taking it? Yes. Did I wish to enslave them? No. I may serve the Hegemony military, but that doesn't make me a loyalist. I simply do as I'm told. And with no dictatorship left, and Khar'Shan in ruins," he took the cigarette from his mouth, puffing air into the stale one of the cave, "That makes me the only authority I follow, along with anyone else who's worth fighting for. For now, that's you," he turned to Marcus, "I'm Sergeant Kechi Dadmagan, 1st Orbital Infantry, 12th Aratoht Company, 4th Squad."

Marcus' eyes widened at that.  _12th_ _ **Aratoht**_ _Company? That has to be a coincidence. Or maybe it isn't...damn you, Balak. You sent them on purpose to taunt me..._

"Very well," Grunt spoke, "Now that introductions are done, we should get moving. I'll take you to the edge of the camp, and we'll begin our investigation there. But be careful Shepard. This place smells bad," he sniffed, shaking his head at the likely repulsive smell, "Like a bad wound."

Grunt moved ahead first, leading Aralakh Company down into the caves. Kechi's men followed next, and then Opold's marines. Finally, his squad took up the rear, Wrex hefting the nuke over his shoulders once more while Marcus took the front, keeping his flamethrower collapsed; no need to waste the fuel.

As they moved around the corner, more of the ruined camp appeared. There were more sinkholes as well, with some of the bunkers having snapped in half, whilst others teetered dangerously off the edge, and others sat safely, away from the holes. But one in particular leaned off the hole, one having snapped off and fallen inside, the other balancing like a seesaw on the edge, waiting for the slightest nudge to send it tumbling.

The camp had been occupied too; weapons lay scattered over the sight, and the scorch marks of discharged flamethrowers and detonated explosives lay all over the walls, as well as bullet holes. There was some black blood stains, meaning the krogan team had managed to take out some of the ravagers, but a large majority was orange. The krogan must have been swarmed, considering the state of the camp.

The group came to a stop as Grunt ordered a halt infront of a bunker who's entire left side was leaning off the edge of one huge sinkhole. The krogan called for Marcus, and the spectre quickly pushed through the hanar, batarian and krogan units, coming to stand behind the supersoldier. Grunt looked at him, and pointed down below, "I can see the bottom."

Looking down, he saw the krogan was right. There it was, clear as day; the bottom of the hole was littered with debris, mostly broken rock, and at one end was a tunnel; artificially made, likely having been burrowed. He pointed to it, "You think that's where the rachni made the sinkhole?"

"I'd say its a fact," Grunt replied as he stood, bringing his Graal to bear, "And that smell? Its gotten worse. Come on, the way into the caves is through this bunker," the krogan stated, motioning to the damaged structure.

Kasumi wasn't as assured, "Um...are you sure that's even safe?"

EDI nodded, clearly in agreement, "Considering the angle of which this hangs, it is not considered an intelligent course of action to attempt crossing it."

"It looks pretty dangerous sir," Keeling added, "It'd be best finding another way around. And with all our weight on it and Wrex and the nuke," she jabbed a finger at said krogan, "That thing will fall over."

"I'm with Keeling, but we need to get into those caves," Marcus stated, turning to look at Grunt. He sighed, finally deciding to nod as an idea formed in his head and he turned to Garrus, "Okay, you're with me, and so are you EDI. Sergeant Dadmagan, you and your squad are with me, too. We'll cross, and once on the other side, we'll look for an alternative route for you to cross and radio it to everyone else. The rest of you, just bunker down here," he turned to Opold and Grunt, "Are we in agreement?"

Opold couldn't nod, so he responded, "This one acknowledges."

"Solid plan, battlemaster," Grunt agreed, nodding.

He nodded, turning to Keeling, "You're in command of the squad until we regroup."

The N7 nodded, snapping a salute as he turned around, Garrus joining his side as did the batarians. Dadmagan gave him an unappreciative look, probably coming up with some sorry excuse to abandon him.  _Never trust a batarian. Racism is wrong, but when it comes to species never to trust, its volus and batarians. One will sell all your armor, the other will stab all your weak points and pay the volus further money for selling you out._

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1341 hours._

_Krogan Camp, Unknown Underground Cave Network, Southern Hemisphere, Utukku._

_The Reaper War, Operation: Quarantine._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Sergeant Kechi Dadmagan._

He stepped forward again, just as gently as before, making sure not to apply too much pressure. The structure creaked, a bit of dust whistled through the air into the sinkhole below, but the bunker did not move. Taking a deep breath, he began to increase his pace, his weapon remaining collapsed as he moved forth. Behind and infront of him, his team moved; Garrus was just behind him, along with EDI, while Dadmagan and his squad stayed up ahead, all armed with batarian-made weapons like Raider shotguns and a few non-batarian weapons, like the vindicator battle rifle, or Striker automatic grenade launcher. Good weapons, the latter of which was a krogan weapon.

He continued his march forward as precisely as possible, trying to make sure he didn't apply too much pressure in some areas, alot in others; it just depended where the bunker was tilting, what angle, and where it was favoured in terms of balance. Clearly traversing this was reckless, but it was a necessary recklessness.  _At least we didn't bring the nuke with us._

"Marcus..." Garrus muttered behind him, entirely focused on watching his step, "I just want you to know...how stupid...this is."

"Already...made...a mental...note...of that..." Marcus chuckled back, not looking back incase he misstepped, "Try to keep...your focus...on the floor..."

"I can multitask multiple things simultaneously, Shepard. You know this," EDI piped up, "Currently, I am tapping into the comm buoys in this cluster and monitoring relay on the Normandy, talking to you here and calculating all the possible missteps in this bunker simultaneously. It is a seamless task."

"Wasn't talking...to you...EDI," Marcus replied with a bit of snarkiness in his tone, "Just...talk to Joker...EDI...try not to talk...we can't...multitask...that efficiently..."

Suddenly, Dadmagan shouted, his tone hurried, shocked and clearly terrified.

"Stop! Stop! Damn it, stop!" Kechi ordered, holding up a closed fist.

Marcus frowned as he looked up, curious as to why they were stopping, when he heard it.

A metallic groan.

The whip-like sounds of support wires snapping.

The sound of rock seperating from the wall as the bunker grinded against it. Marcus felt his heartbeat in his throat as he whorled around, " _ **Fuck!**_ Fall back! Fall b-"

Suddenly, he felt the bunker floor fall out from under him, and his armoured back banged against the back of the bunker's wall. His eyes widened as his hand jerked open and his flamethrower fell through the open doorway, cursing. He watched Garrus end up the same, while EDI immediately engaged the magnetic clamps on her boots, the AI managing to keep hold of her own weapon, as did Garrus. He looked to the turian, groaning from the dull throb in his back.

"Garrus! You...okay?"

"I'm a turian. I'll survive," he sighed, "You?"

"I'm-" he began before being interrupted.

"Shepard!" Grunt called out, "We're going to get you out!"

"No Grunt, stay away! We don't need to disturb the building anymore than we-"

The same sounds again, but much louder.

"Ohhhhhhh shit."

And in the next moment, he was in freefall.

He heard a few of Dadmagan's cry out as the entire building completely came loose from its natural cradle and toppled downwards, taking its occupants with it. For a few seconds, Marcus soared before coming to rest on the sinkhole floor...hard. Pain lanced up his entire frame, his entire body screaming against the punishment it was taking. He could only watch, frozen to the ground and in pain as the bunker hurtled down towards him, wires snapping through the air violently. He began to crawl backwards at that, knowing that if even one of those wires touched him, he'd be cut clean in half from the velocity of the heavy impact.

He watched in almost slow motion as a soldier was hit by one wire and torn in half, armor reduced to meaning nothing in the face of it. Two more were thrown into the side of the hole, one man's head caving in and another ricocheting off it and down to the ground like a stray bullet. All the while the building continued to fall, and he knew it would kill them if he didn't act quickly. Summoning his biotics, he practically picked up Garrus and EDI and threw them clear of the building, followed by a quick biotic shove in the direction of the batarian squad before propelling himself backwards afterwards.

He watched his feet just miss the edge of the falling bunker as it slammed into the ground, kicking up huge swaths of dust and rock particles, throwing them into the air like lethal projectiles. Thankfully, they all missed him and his team, as well as the remainder of the batarian squad, as did most of the wires, if it wasn't for the poor bastard on the ground that had been under the landing zone of one wire; one that promptly cut him clean in half, spreading his gore along the ground, soaking the ground in red.

He groaned as he sat up, blinking as he wiped the dust and blood off his visor to clear up his vision. He saw the bunker laying at the bottom of the sinkhole with them, bits of rocks that were chipped off the wall impacting it as they fell and coming to rest. He looked up to see how far they fell, and saw they were at the very bottom of the sinkhole.  _Fuck. Had to have been a dozen feet._

He looked around to see Garrus also getting to his feet, the turian signalling he was alright as EDI quickly came to his assistance, a few cuts and scratches and dents all the damage she suffered. He turned to the batarian squad, who were only just recovering from their fall, and they weren't looking all that great.

Already, they'd lost four men to just the fall alone. Dadmagan had survived thankfully, ableit covered in dust and spotted with the blood of his severed comrades. The rest of his squad, eight, got up and managed to retrieve their weapons, and some seemed to be whispering prayers to their dead brothers-in-arms.

Marcus quickly ran over to the bunker, scouring the dirt for his flamethrower, and was thankful that he was able to find it on such short notice. He picked up, the weapon still collapsed, and was happy to notice that its default fuel tank remained undamaged and unbreached. Coming to stand, he was just in time for Grunt's voice to once again echo down the sinkhole towards them.

"SHEPARD!" the krogan's voice forbodingly boomed, "YOU OKAY?"

"We're fine Grunt!" Marcus replied, shouting back up at him, seeing the krogan now peeking over the edge, "How about you!?"

"WE'RE GOING TO TRY AND FIND ANOTHER ROUTE!" Grunt shouted back.

Marcus nodded, noticing Garrus pointing to the tunnel they saw earlier. The rachni burrow. Nodding, he looked back up, "We have the tunnel down here! We're going to go inside, see where it leads! We'll meet you inside!"

"COPY THAT!" Was Grunt's final reply, before the krogan promptly disappeared and began shouting at his men, "Aralakh Company, MOVE OUT!"

"Think he could shout any louder?" Garrus asked dryly, "I'm surprised the rachni haven't come to investigate...sorry, the ravagers."

"For a krogan, nothing's too loud," the spectre replied, grinning meekly as he looked to the tunnel, finally extending his weapon into full and turning off the safety, watching as a little flame sparked at the end of the barrel, "Now, let's go find the heart of this nest. Hopefully we'll find the rachni queen there."

"According to my readings, the heart of the nest would, strategically, be placed 40 feet below us. Deep enough to survive orbital attack," EDI observed.

"Good work EDI. We'll follow this tunnel, and hopefully it'll lead us there. Weapons equipped everyone," he ordered, moving over to the batarian squad, "Into the belly of the beast, we travel."

Dadmagan had just regrouped his troops when Marcus' trio arrived, the batarian turning towards him with an angry expression, "I knew we shouldn't have lead our men in there, it was idiotic! Now I've lost four of my men, and we haven't even engaged the enemy yet! It wasn't even the enemy's doing!"

 _Technically it was, as if it wasn't for the rachni, that bunker wouldn't be leaning precariously off a sinkhole._ "We had to get to the otherside, and you know that. But right now all we can do is continue to keep a cool head, and keep going. The mission doesn't stop because we lost people. This is war, you'll get used to it."  _It took the deaths of Tarquin and his platoon to remind me of that._

The batarian scoffed, waving him off like an irritating insect, "What would you know of it, human? Your team is fully intact! I just lost four, one of them my engineer!"

"Good," Marcus coldly stated, stepping closer, "Now use their deaths as fuel to your rage and let's go plant a fucking nuke. Or have you lost your appetite for combat, Sergeant?"

Dadmagan growled at him, all four of his eyes glaring, "No, I have not. And I plan on killing lots of rachni, to be sure. But I want the deaths of my four men answered for."

"Excellent, shall we continue?" Garrus asked, pointing to the tunnel. The batarian turned to it and looked back at Marcus, incredulousity in his eyes, "You can't be serious! We're not going in there! That is a rachni burrow! They could be in there, waiting to ambush us!"

"Its either stay here, go through the tunnel or try scaling the wall," Marcus deadpanned, shrugging his shoulders, "The former and latter are not very appealing to me, and I think the tunnel holds more promise for revenge. I'm going for the middle, how about you two?" Garrus nodded, while EDI simply blinked, and responded.

"It is the most viable option," the AI responded.

"Unanimous decision," Marcus replied, pushing past Dadmagan as Garrus and EDI followed him, and moving towards the tunnel, "Follow or stay, Dadmagan. Those are your options." And without even looking back, he activated the flashlight on his helmet, levelled his flamethrower, and moved inside, scanning the inside walls, watching as two more flashlights joined his.

The walls were definitely artificially made, as could be seen by the segregation of the dirt and earth; definite signs of digging. And from the look of the tracks on the ground, a swarm of bug-like creatures had definitely come through here; rachni for sure. The ceiling was at least ten feet above them, and the walls were wet and sticky, not to mention green.  _The color of rachni acid. We're definitely on the right track._ He turned to his squad, right behind him and unflinching, and nodded, moving forward.

They followed the path of the tunnel as it was, to their luck, a singular path. Deeper and deeper they went, and it felt endless, but eventually, the walls began to solidfy and he began to recognize solid rock.  _We must be entering another cave. Maybe their nest is in a cave?_ It was then that he noticed the ground had become a bit brighter, and when he looked down and shone his flashlight on it, he swore the ground was coated orange.  _Krogan blood. The survey team must have come through here._ But when he looked around, the owners of the blood were nowhere to be found.  _No bodies? The rachni don't...eat people, do they?_ Even on Noveria, the rabid rachni hadn't done that, or at least hadn't shown evidence of it.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind them, and he whorled about to face them, finger on the trigger. Garrus and EDI followed suit, only to notice the face of an irritated batarian glaring back at them.

"You mind not blinding me, human!" Dadmagan growled, covering his visor, "It won't help you to have a blind soldier."

"Thought you'd follow," Marcus promptly responded, moving his weapon away and turning back towards the end of the tunnel, "We're almost at the end, let's keep going."

"Yeah, I think I can see light at the end."

Funnily enough, Garrus was right. When they rounded the corner, they saw the light reflecting off the rocks spilling into the open tunnel, and what looked to be a massive cavern inside. He quickly jogged the rest of the way, making a sweep of the walls to make sure no rachni were getting ready to jump them. Satisfied there weren't (a matter of fact, the whole cavern looked devoid of life), he motioned the team inside, and turned off his flashlight, hitting his comm.

"Grunt, status?"

The krogan's voice came through crystal clear, much to his shock. He expected interference from the rocks, but there was none, "Still looking for a way in, Shepard. Should be inside soon. Haven't encountered any hostile activity. How about you?"

"The tunnel has taken us inside a cavern. I think we maybe inside the caves, and we've found evidence that the survey team used the tunnel to escape, or were cornered. Nothing confirmed," Marcus stated, "We're going to continue inside, see what we can find."

"Copy that," Grunt replied, "We'll radio once inside, Grunt out."

"That's odd," Marcus noted, "That transmission was crystal, no inteference. In places like this, my comms should be going to shit. Something isn't right."

"Well, the Reapers  _have_  corrupted the rachni," Garrus explained, "Its logical to assume they'd have left their technology behind to keep up the corruption. Maybe there's no interference because their tech is able to penetrate these walls, and we're merely tapping into it?"

"This assumption is correct," EDI piped up, "I am currently picking up 98 different frequencies penetrating this cavern, ninety percent of them of Reaper origin, the other ten percent being ours."

"Nice guess Garrus," Marcus stated, "But if the Reapers left their tech behind, they probably left more than just ravagers too. Keep your guard up."

As they moved inside, they eventually came across their first piece of evidence of Reaper influence; an arm of silver alloy stretching from the ground, lined with wires and pulsing blood red. Coming from it was an unusual smell, one that did not communicate well with his nose and he turned off his olfactory filters. He turned to his squad, taking note of the object.

"Definitely looks Reaper," Dadmagan noted, poking it with his weapon, "I say we destroy it."

"Negative. Conserve your ammo," the spectre ordered, shaking his head as Dadmagan turned to face him, "There's no point on wasting ammo on something that won't break to anything less than a Mach 6 Cruise Missile, and even that may have a hard time doing anything. This is Reaper tech; for all we know, all of it is built to take the punishment of a dreadnought. We'd barely make a dent. Besides, it does not look too dangerous, and we've got more important things to worry about," Marcus stated.

"Wait," EDI asked, and everyone stopped, turning to face the synthetic. After a few seconds, she spoke, "It is not completely useless. It is a map."

"A what?" Dadmagan incredulously asked, "What would the Reapers need of a map?"

"It is not for them," EDI replied, "For their indoctrinated servants. It is easy to get lost in these caves, and while the Reapers do not have this problem, their servants do; they need easy access, and this would help. I believe these are scattered all over the nest; a guide to their indoctrinated visitors. The Reaper tech inside me will allow me to hack it easily, but only because of its low encryption," EDI stated, opening her omni-tool and making a link to the device. Within a second, the arm beeped and flashed bright red before a hatch in it opened, and a holographic projector opened a projection of the cave network, along with all routes.

"Excellent job EDI!" Marcus stated, turning to her, "Can you send this Grunt? They might need it. I see an entrance on their level that isn't far from this...blinking dot," he pointed to the dot in particular, watching it pulse constantly.

"That pulse, according to the inside code, is the queen," EDI declared, "She is within the heart of the nest."

"Then we've found our destination," Marcus declared, turning to his squad, "EDI, send this to Grunt. Everyone, let's move!"

They continued up the path, moving through a narrow entrance way and down another cave. The area was massively different to the tunnel, he noticed. Stalatites hung from the ceiling, bits of rock covering the wall in every direction; ceiling, ground and walls. It was practically everywhere. But it was all empty.

Until they found the exit to the third cave.

As he stepped through it, weapon bared, bringing his foot down, he felt a crunch, followed by the sound of multiple screeches. He looked down and brought his foot away, watching the crushed form of a rachni worker melt into the ground, its acidic blood melting through the ground and hissing at the edge of his boot. He watched a whole swarm rush past, fleeing. Well, they'd found the rachni workers, at least, but they looked different. More synthetic, with a metal main body and mechanical legs.  _The Reapers even corrupted them._

Then his head snapped back to the dead insect, Dadmagan and his squad firing at the fleeing workers and managing to kill a few before they escaped.  _Wait, since when is rachni blood acidic?_ He looked at the black blood, having already melted quite a bit into the ground.  _The Reapers...they've even weaponized rachni blood by pumping acid into their veins. This is sick. That's fucking sick!_ He thought he'd seen the worst of Reaper corruption and huskification, but clearly not.

"You thinking the same thing I am?" Garrus asked, Marcus nodding.

"That the Reapers have weaponized rachni blood? Yes," the spectre replied, shaking his head as he made his way inside, "And its sick. The closer we get to ending this, the better I'll feel."

Garrus sighed as they pressed forward, ignoring the scuttling on the walls, as the rachni workers seemed content in not attacking them, "That's not what I meant. What I was going to say, before you got all gloomy, was how funny it would be to see Tali right about now."

Marcus stopped, turning to face the turian with a raised eyebrow, "Why would that be funny?"

"So many spiders," Garrus grinned, mandibles stretched and twitching to hold his mirth, "She'd be going spastic with her shotgun just trying to kill them all, and then she'd use you as a piggyback just to escape them. The more I think about it..." suddenly, the turian broke into a fit of barely contained laughter, trying to hold it back, but unable too. Marcus felt mirth tugging his own lips, just imagining Tali sprinting about like a maniac, screaming at the spiders to die.

Garrus' laughter echoed through the walls.

Through the cave.

And then came the response.

A loud roar, followed by more screeching.

Garrus stopped his laughing in its tracks, gulping, "That didn't sound like workers."

Marcus shook his head, bringing up his flamethrower as he heard more scuttling, "No, that sounded far more mature."

The scuttling got closer and closer and finally, the beast rounded the corner; it almost looked unrecognizable. Six legs like a rachni, but nothing else was rachni about it. It had two heavy cannons rearing from where its head used to be, and looked powerful enough to gut a tank. It had bulbous sacs hanging from its body, ready to be popped and he could see from where he was, inside, was workers scuttling about, waiting for the sacs to be popped and for them to be released. The rachni husk moved forward, lumbering and top heavy, but ultimately deadly.

And behind it were three more, and a swarm of workers.

"Ravagers!" Marcus roared, fingering the trigger, "OPEN FIRE!"

Garrus took aim with his sniper rifle, armed with incendiary rounds and fired. The batarians fired their shotguns and assault rifles almost sporadically in fear, while Dadmagan looked totally unfazed as he tore into the horde. EDI and Marcus' flamethrowers unleashed tongues of flame upon the enemy, licking at the ravager's bodies and reining in the sound of popping sacs and the screeches of burning workers and ravagers alike.

The first ravager was downed before it could fire, body incinerated and popped. The second one however managed to advance sufficiently and aim at its enemy and let off a volley of shots. Four retorts, hyper-velocity shells shooting hot death out from their tips...

...and tearing into three batarians behind them, one's head splitting open like a melon, shields ignored completely, another gutted, followed by another having his leg blown off, and then the fourth shot missing entirely. Blood soaked Dadmagan, leaving him temporarily stunned before he found the one responsible and opened fire, tearing the ravager apart. The other two fell quite prematurely, their flamethrowers working like a charm in dispatching them. In no time, the rachni husks had been pushed back, their workers unable to withstand the heat and spontaneously combusting into flame, their acid hitting their own brethren and melting their skin, causing it to pop.

"Keep pushing!" Marcus barked, letting the gusts of fire erupting from his weapon continue to pour out to keep the enemy back. But they just kept coming, and his fuel tank was going to run out eventually. Pops and sizzles, hisses and screeches were all that could be heard, along with the occassional scream as a ravager got a lucky shot and killed one of the batarian squad. One shot managed to hit Garrus, but his shields took the brunt, and he quickly learnt to snipe from cover, another shot pinging uselessly off EDI's reinforced armor.

After another minute, his weapon clicked empty, and flames stopped dancing from the barrel. His eyes widened as he watched EDI try to compensate for the opening, but now the ravagers were breaking through. One broke through and leapt at him, but he managed to lash a foot out at the last minute, the force enough to puncture one of the husk's sacs. He watched as steam rose as acid burnt into his boot, and workers began rushing towards him. He quickly fell back, disengaging his suit's lockdown so he could yank the boot off. Tearing it off, he wacked one of the workers, crushing it before crushing another, and another, and another. When he was done, all of them were acidic pools melting into the rock, but the ravager was still approaching.

It raised one leg, ready to skewer him, when EDI arrived, gusts of flame sending the ravager into retreat, screaming its fury, or agony. Finally the best toppled backwards onto the ground, melting as its acid blood spilt onto the ground and melted its own body structure into nothing. But the Reaper corrupted horde continued to press forward, relentless, and with an almost endless supply of abominations; they had taken ten ravagers so far, but that barely stemmed the tide.  _We can't keep this up, but we can't go back. We need to push forward some ho-_

Suddenly, they stopped, turned and ran in the direction they had been headed in, moving forward with speed only possible with six legs. Workers and Ravagers rushed along the walls, moving into holes in the walls, tunnels or just continuing along the singular path, or even making new tunnels of their own. Something must have spooked them...or did it?

As he came to stand, discarding his now useless armoured boot, he came to awkwardly stand just as Grunt's voice came into his ear, sounding oddly excited, "Shepard! Where are you!?"

He keyed his comm in response, "Heading for the heart of the nest, but we were slowed down; ran into a horde of ravagers. We were about to be overrun, but all of a sudden, they just retreated. I figure something must have spooked them, or the queen called them back. Did you get the map EDI sent you?"

"We did, and we had almost reached the entrance when we ran into a problem," Grunt replied, the sound of a shotgun discharging being heard, followed by a screech, "Those ravagers running away? Probably headed for us. They must have realized how close we were to the queen and sent everything they had to defend it. They didn't retreat Shepard, they've just reprioritized."

"Fuck!" Marcus exclaimed, "Grunt, hold position, we're coming to you! Shepard out," he whorled to face EDI, his expression hurried as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a second fuel cell, removing the old one and replacing it with a fresh one, "EDI, how close are we to the hive entrance?"

It took a second for the AI to respond, "Five meters."

He frowned, "We can't be that close. We'd have heard-"

"-five meters below us," EDI responded, looking down.

His eyes widened, " _That_ far down? Fuck!" He whorled to the remainder of the batarian squad, which he realized was now down to a quarter strength; only four remained, one of them being Dadmagan, "We need to double time it to the hive entrance!"

"I'm not going one step further," Dadmagan growled, "I've lost too many men on this charade. I will not lose anymore!"

He moved over to Dadmagan, hand gripping the batarian's shoulder, "Just a little further, Dadmagan. We are almost there. For the sake of the galaxy, you must continue," deciding he might need to appeal to the man's beliefs, he continued, "Think of your people, Dadmagan. You lost your homeworld, your fleet, your army. Your people are battered, but do you want to lose everything? Because that's what'll happen if the Reapers are allowed to utilize the rachni. They have a large horde now, but with an army of rachni, they'll be unstoppable. Make your stand here, Dadmagan! You want to save your people? Start now!"

The batarian gulped, looked to the ground and nodded, slotting a fresh thermal clip into his rifle, "Okay, enough with the speeches. Let's make a run."

Marcus gave a grim smile, despite himself and squeezed his shoulder before letting go, turning to head for the entrance, "Then let's go do it."

"Excuse me?" He heard Dadmagan say, his smile dropping, "I didn't mean for the rachni. Screw this, and screw  _you_."

Marcus whorled around in time to see Dadmagan run around a corner, his men following behind him, and he roared, face contorted in anger, "Dadmagan, you fucking coward!" He moved to run after them, but felt a three-fingered hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face his turian brother, the man shaking his head.

"Don't bother. He can't escape this planet anyway," the turian stated with some disgust, "He'll have to wait for us to get back for him to escape, and he won't attack us with our full strength and a krogan company at our back. Leave him be. The coward will get what he deserves; him, and his men."

It him a second to come to terms with the betrayal but yet again, he remembered the man was a batarian, and a soldier of the Hegemony at that.  _Batarian civilians are a different story...its servants of the Hegemony that I despise and can never be trusted._ For all he knew, the batarian probably made the whole story about hating the Hegemony up to make him more trustworthy.  _Garrus is right. He'll get what he deserves._

Turning around, he began a fresh round, sprinting as hard as he could.

He just hoped they weren't too late.

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1401 hours._

_Hive Entrance, Unknown Underground Cave Network, Southern Hemisphere, Utukku._

_The Reaper War, Operation: Quarantine._

_Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Platoon Sergeant Opold, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex._

"Come on, get in there!" Grunt growled as he reloaded his claymore, tossing three, primed frag grenades as he did into the oncoming swarm, "Keep pushing them back! Reinforcements are coming!" He took aim with his claymore as the grenades detonated, pits of chetin, metal plating and black, acidic ichor tossed up into the air as limbs were dismembered and bodies shredded by the triple blasts as he took aim and fired, his shotgun finishing off a ravager that survived the explosions, sending it flying backwards as it was blown asunder. He reloaded once more, surveying the battlefield.

So far, he'd only lost one man, and that's only because he'd gotten reckless; charged right inside and immediately got torn apart; literally. The ravagers had just swarmed over him and dismembered him, limb by limb, until there was nothing left. As for the rest of them, they were holding firm, but running low on supplies. They needed an exit route, and soon. But the only one was into the heart of the hive, which was blocked by a piece of Reaper tech; which they were now backed up against it.

The cavern was narrow, which made it an excellent chokepoint for them to lure the ravagers inside and cut them down, one by one; but that worked twofold. The ravagers had easy shots, and more than once he had to dodge a shot. One of his men had been hit, but it barely scrapped him, but he knew a direct hit from those cannons was instant death, unless you had shields, and that'd only take one shot. Those cannons the ravagers had...these guys were meant as mobile artillery, equipped with weapons designed to puncture tank armor.

Javik was up front with Keeling, his particle rifle firing hot tongues of energy across the ravager lines, heating up their blood and causing it to explode, dealing heavy death to the swarm, while Keeling picked off any workers with methodical precision. Wrex had placed the bomb at the door and joined the fight, the krogan's claymore echoing through the corridor while being followed up by biotic attacks like shockwaves and warp fields. Liara kept up a constant stream of singularities and other biotic assaults, but she would soon grow tired, and she had hardly any armor. Vega was emptying clip after clip into the enemy with his Revenant, but it wouldn't be long before he had to discard the weapon; and he needed some of those clips for his Typhoon. As for Kasumi, she stayed at the rear, her stealth abilities basically useless in this kind of combat zone, so she resorted to firing from the back with her Locust SMG, taking potshots at best. Around them, Aralakh Company held their positions, all armed with krogan weaponry and tearing their own holes into the enemy lines while the hanar marine platoon supported them. Opold himself was at Grunt's side, and the hanar never let his dual-wielded Tempest SMGs rest.

"This one believes our line will collapse soon," Opold noted, "Continuing to hold it is considered foolish."

"Nowhere else to go, jelly," Grunt grunted, tossing his final grenade into the fray and drawing his grenade launcher, preparing to empty what was left of it into the fray. For each ravager they took down, five more just replaced it, and for every five workers taken out, fifty more replaced it.  _There must be millions of converted down here..._

"This one suggests a final bastion," Opold states, "This one suggests priming the nuke and detonating it here. We are deep enough within the caves for the detonation to do its damage."

Grunt scoffed, turning towards the hanar, "Not until my dying breath will I detonate that nuke. While Shepard's still alive, there's always a chance."

"Shepard is not immortal," Opold pointed out.

"No," Grunt grinned, holding the trigger on his launcher as explosive after explosive thumped out, blowing clear holes into the ravager holes...only for them to be rapidly filled and their dead ignored as he dropped the weapon and drew his claymore once more, dropping back into cover as a worker landed on his shoulder, biting him in the neck. He snarled, grabbing it and slamming it against a rock, crushing as he turned to the hanar, "But my battlemaster comes pretty damn close."

"Argh!" he heard one of his men call out, and he looked up in time to see the krogan commando get tackled by a sprinting ravager, the creature impaling one of its forward legs straight through his eye socket and out of the other side of his head, orange blood squirting from the wound. Growling, the krogan snapped the ravager's leg off and tossed the creature aside, his blood rage in full affect. He ran forward, bashing ravagers aside until he reached one and tackled it off the edge of the cliff side on the right side of the cave, falling into the abyss below.

One of Opold's men tried to plug the gap, but was quickly swarmed by workers who crawled onto him, pulling him down to the ground as hundreds of the damn things crawled over him, the hanar screaming as it was devoured. Keeling and Javik retreated, followed by James and everyone else.

"This is loco!" James exclaimed, "These  _pendejos_ aren't letting up! We're going to get overrun!"

"Everyone!" Marcus' voice sounded over the team feed, "Switch to your flamethrowers and let it rip! They're afraid of fire!"

"Its always the fire," Kasumi muttered as she pulled out her flamethrower, followed by everyone else, all of them opening fire just as the horde reached them. Like someone inspecting a smelly dish, the all reeled back simultaneously at once upon seeing the flames, screeching as some caught fire and burst, while others slowly moved back, others trying to swarm forward only to succumb to the flames.

Grunt laughed, keying his comm, "What's your ETA, battlemaster?"

"Pretty much...NOW!"

Out of nowhere Marcus dropped, followed by EDI and Garrus but, surprisingly, none of the batarian squad.  _Must have been slaughtered on the way here._ Immediately upon dropping, Marcus drew his Revenant and opened fire, Garrus following suit with the one he brought, and then EDI with her flamethrower. Together, the company, platoon and Normandy squad fired their flamethrowers in unison, drawing back the enemy. But they were getting brave, and pretty soon, they'd have to reload.

"EDI!" Marcus growled through his teeth at the heat surrounding them, "Status on that door!"

"One more minute is needed," EDI replied calmly, hacking and firing at the same time.

"Too much time! Liara, Wrex!" Marcus barked, "Biotic fields with me...now!" Just as they all needed to reload, the three dropped their flamethrowers and brought their biotics to bear, forming a field around them just as the ravagers surged forward again. They banged against the field uselessly, workers and ravagers alike, but the strain was already becoming too much; the sheer force of the horde and size made holding a field against them an almighty effort.

After a minute, he heard the door open behind them and Grunt turned to it, growling, "Everybody inside!" Grunt moved over and retrieved the nuke, hefting it over his shoulder effortlessly as he turned to the trio, "Battlemaster, come on!"

"I've got your back loco," James declared, a noticable grin in his eyes, "I've got this shit covered."

As Grunt turned, the krogan too grinned as he saw the Typhoon HMG the marine hefted, the marine taking aim at the horde just as Marcus let the field drop and rushed inside with them, Liara and Wrex hot on their heels. Once inside, and the Reaper force pushed forward, James opened fire, Typhoon roaring to life as it fired with the speed and force of a minigun.

As EDI worked to close the Reaper door, ravager upon ravager, worker upon worker was shredded, blown apart or torn asunder by the high-speed rounds of the Typhoon, the sheer force and speed laying devastation upon the enemy ranks. But they just kept coming, and were creeping closer and closer, despite James' formidable stance. Eventually, the Typhoon clicked empty, the rachni surging forward once more...

...only to bang uselessly against the closed Reaper door as it shut on them. James blew a sigh of relief, turning to Grunt as he grinned at the krogan supersoldier, Grunt returning the favour with a grin of his own, "I want that gun." It was a simple statement, one James knew not to argue with. He tossed the gun at Grunt, which he caught flawlessly with one hand, turning to the rest of the grip as he lay the nuke on the ground, everyone catching their breaths and reloading.

The cave they found themselves in wasn't the heart of the hive, but lay just outside it; the Reaper door protecting it was closed, but EDI was already hard at work opening it. The cave they were in was small, had three entrances, all of which were open except the one they came through. But soon enough, the Reapers would override the hack, and the ravagers would pour through; and this time, they had three entrances, not one.

"That...I thought we were as good as dead," Kasumi came out, sitting and leaning against one of the cave walls, "There...there was so many of them. They just kept coming, no matter how many we took out. It was like throwing rocks at a tsunami, hoping to stop it."

"The rachni queen definitely rebuilt her race alright; millions strong," Marcus huffed, taking in deep breaths, "Except now, all of those millions belong to the Reapers, and those probably aren't even the reserves. But that's why we're here, and that's why we're going to stop them. Bullets won't stop 'em, but a one megaton nuke will."

"Where are the batarians?" Javik questioned, "I do not see them among you."

Marcus growled, turning to look at the prothean, "Remember that run in I mentioned? Yeah, well not soon after, the cowards fucking ditched us. Ran right back for the entrance. We didn't give chase; no need to waste the ammo, and he can't get offworld anyway."

"Cowards indeed," Wrex growled, "Maybe Balak ordered it."

Marcus shook his head, "No, its Dadmagan. Balak hates me, I know that, and he hates humans, I know that too. He's untrustworthy, he's a murderer, and he's a no good slaver and a terrorist," he looked back at Wrex, "But when it comes to his people, he's as loyal as any of us are. He would do anything he could to protect his people, and that's the only reason he gave in to my demands for him to join the UGC; he knows we're his last hope for saving the batarian species. And he would know just how dangerous these rachni are. No, Balak didn't order this: Dadmagan's just gone AWOL."

"We also have to consider indoctrination," Liara piped up, "With this war going on, anything is possible."

"What does it matter?" One of the krogan commandos growled, "The coward's either going to be stranded here, caught in the blast, or found and torn apart by those ravagers; there is a whole horde out there. I say we forget the pyjaks and just continue with the mission."

Grunt nodded, placing the nuke on the ground, "Agreed. The hive is just through that door," he nodded to the door EDI was currently hacking, which was taking longer than usual, "You just need to get inside."

"'You?'" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow behind his helmet, "What part of that don't I like?"

Grunt shrugged, pulling out a thermal clip and slotting it into the Typhoon as he placed it in lower parry, "You need someone to cover the rear and buy you some time to deploy the nuke, I get that. My company gets that. We'll hold here as long as you need, and when the nuke is ready, you call us back, and we'll all extract together."

"This one does not think escape is likely," Opold added, "Our exit route is blocked."

"We'll find one," Grunt smirked, shrugging as he added, "Or make one."

Marcus shook his head, "Too risky. You'll get overrun, Grunt. There's no guarantee you'll be able to hold them."  _I'm not losing another soldier. Not one more, and certainly not a friend._

A chorus of screeches could be heard and they all turned to look down one of the corridors. The ravagers must have found a way around. Grunt turned back to him, "You don't have a choice. Now go Shepard, and get that nuke deployed! I'll see you on the otherside, battlemaster!"

At that moment, EDI spoke, "The door is open, Shepard. No hostiles detected inside."

Marcus gave Grunt one final look as he motioned his squad inside, the hanar following behind him as he eyed the large company of krogan soldiers.  _97 elite krogan commandos, whitled down to 95, and soon they'll lose more. Damn it, I hate this war. But Grunt has a point. Still..._ With a sigh, he spoke, shaking his head as he said it, but this may be the last time he saw the young krogan.  _I hate goodbyes, but at least this'll give me some closure. You magnificient bastard._ He watched Wrex retrieve the nuke and hurry inside as he spoke, "Good luck." The words felt pathetic and small, but it was the best he could offer.

Grunt merely snorted, grinning as he showed off his new HMG, "I don't need luck," he moved to join his men, smirking all the way, "I have ammo."

Even as Marcus entered the heart of the hive, possibly knowing the fate of the brave, krogan Aralakh Company, he could only smile.

That magnificient bastard, indeed.


	22. Songs of Virtue, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's crew work with Aralakh company to destroy a possibly resurgent rachni: even worse, these rachni are being turned into Reaper legions.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN:**

**SONGS OF VIRTUE PART TWO**

_June 18, 2186_

_1406 hours._

_Heart of the Rachni Hive, Unknown Underground Cave Network, Southern Hemisphere, Utukku._

_The Reaper War, Operation: Quarantine._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Soldier Javik, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Platoon Sergeant Opold._

The first thing Marcus took note of was that it was dark. Not pitch black, as there was still enough light to see the immensity of the cavern they had just entered, but dark all the same, and hard to see where one stepped. The walls seemed to loom over them, with a vaulted ceiling at least 20 meters above them. Overall, it was a massive complex. The very cavern itself could fit an alliance frigate, and the walls were covered in slimy substances...

...and hundreds upon hundreds of dragon's teeth.

 _Reaper bastards. They'll pay for this._ He moved ahead, his Revenant bared and ready with his squad following suit, all armed with similiar armaments. Their steps seemed to echo on the rock floor, and he felt awkward as his unprotected foot slipped and slided across the sticky floor. Eventually, however, they came to the middle of the complex, and they all heard a low, familiar growl.

They looked up, in awe and in shock at what they saw. She had barely changed since they last saw her. She was big three years ago, but she had clearly grown alot since then; she had gone from the size of a kodiak shuttle to three times the size of an Atlas mech. She had black chitin all over her body, a large crest on her forehead, and glowing blue eyes. Overall, she looked just as big and intimidating as she had back then, and her powerful legs did nothing to hide her strength.

The rachni queen. But there was one thing he failed to notice first off, that he only noticed a second later, as did the rest of his squad.

She was in chains. Literally.

As Wrex put the nuke down on the hardened ground, they noticed her arms and legs were bound up by massive shackles that pulsed a glowing red; Reaper technology. She screeched as she tried to break free, but each struggle ended in her screaming, likely out of pain if the electricity around her wrists was any indication, and the shake of the ground as she moved. Suddenly however, she stopped all movement all together as her eyes found them, and then...him. Suddenly, she calmed down and her form shrunk slightly, as if her presence calmed her.

_She...she doesn't_ _**look** _ _indoctrinated. Is she...is she...no, why would she be bound up like that? What's going on here?_

Sensing there was no threat, he lowered his weapon, motioning for his squad to do so as well. They looked at him skeptically, but quickly followed suit, looking up in a mixture of shock and awe at the huge alien. He remembered how the queen used to speak, and how it needed a host to speak through, having used a dead asari commando when it spoke to him three years ago. But he saw noone, so how was he going to-

A gravelly voice spoke, this one sounding more powerful than her one from three years ago; raspy, more intimidating, more growl-like. And it boomed with a massive intensity that almost matched Harbinger's voice, "Si...lence..."

He turned to the source to find a dead krogan, likely from the survey team, wrapped around one of the rock inclines in slime, his dead eyes looking blankly at them as his maw moved to the queen's wims. But as he looked around, more krogan were to be found, all wrapped around rock inclines in the same slime, all dead, and all blankly looking at them, their mouths moving to the queen's words...

...the final remnants of the survey team.

The corpse next to him, lying on the ground, was bloodied and covered in wounds, most of his form not even recognizable. Only his jaw remained the only recognizable feature on him, and it moved just like the rest to the queen's words, "The...maddening...sour note...has  _ceased_ ," the queen turned to look at him, as if her eyes were pleading with him, "We...remember you. Three symphonies have...passed...and we have...rebuilt. But the sour notes found...my children...they are silent...I cannot...hear them. They are silent...hollow. Their notes resonate with the same sour notes of the dark ones.  _The machines!_ " It said the last two words with a thunderous roar, as if the very words angered it beyond imagining.

"The machines come and take them to war!" It continued, "They die alone, silent,  _far away_." At the end, the anger almost dissipated, replaced with a sort of sadness, "The sour note of the machines is  _everywhere_."

Marcus finally moved in to speak, looking up at it, feeling so very small in that instant, "I let you go on Noveria. I fought your children then because you said they had been seperated from you. You promised to rebuild your people in secrecy and never harm us again. You said the Rachni Wars were not your fault. Yet here you are, with us fighting your 'children.' The ones the Reapers enslaved, transformed, corrupted."

The rachni queen examined him before speaking, her voice coming from all around them, "We...remember. We kept our promise, retreated back through the relay, and we thought to build a new home on this world. Ours had been destroyed during the wars," the queen explained, "We started a new home. Gave birth to beautiful children. Harmony."

Suddenly, its voice filled with anger once more, almost screaming to the stars, "But...then came the  _machines_! They found us! Heard our songs! Their shriek of sour notes drowned us out!" It looked across the room before looking back down at him, shuffling, causing bits of rock to roll down the incline, "But now their sour notes no longer...invade our thoughts. Our song begins anew! But the children are silent...they sing a new song. The song of the machines!"

"I think what she's saying is that she's the only one left, Shepard," Wrex stated, waving a hand up at her, "All her 'children' belong to the Reapers now." Marcus nodded, turning to look back up at the queen.

_And just like on Noveria, I'm going to have to rescue her and kill all the rest._

She spoke again, as if sensing his troubled thoughts, "We hear the machines, but they cannot control us. Our song has drowned theirs out. We resisted it," the queen stated, "Your minds are weak, unable to fight it. But ours is stronger. We are...rachni. They cannot control us anymore," the queen looked to Wrex, "The wars were not our doing, angry one. We were manipulated...forced into action by the same sour notes that influence my children now."

Wrex growled, "The Reapers were influencing us thousands of years ago and we didn't even know it," he looked at Marcus, "The rachni must have been indoctrinated and then, under Sovereign's orders, sent to weaken the galaxy. Then noone would trust the rachni if they survived, and therefore wouldn't think of an alliance; it intended to rid of us of our greatest ally. It makes sense."

"But they failed," Garrus added, turning to Marcus, "I...I say we set her free, Marcus."

He whorled to face the turian, wanting to say yes, but suddenly a voice infiltrated his mind, a familiar one that he dreaded.

_**Serve us.** _

_**You will know pain, Shepard.** _

_**Submit, end your torment and embrace salvation, Shepard.** _

_**SERVE US.** _

_Get out of my head!_

_**You cannot escape us. You are ours. You belong to us.** _

_**Serve us.** _

_**Serve us.** _

_**Serve us!** _

The voice was persistent, the same two words ringing in his mind, over and over. The same ones that had stuck with him since Illium. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and he could vaguely hear voices trying to penetrate his ears, but all he heard was Harbinger's taunts.

_**You cannot ignore us forever, Shepard. Your end is our continuation. End your suffering and become one with us. Embrace the salvation we offer.** _

_Fuck...you! I'll...send...you all...straight to...HELL! NOW FUCK OFF!_

_**You cannot ignore us, forever.** _

_**Your end is coming.** _

_**Embrace it, or suffer it...** _

The voices finally fled, but he knew they'd be back. They always did come back, ever since Illium.  _That was intense. What the fuck is going on with that damn voice? Its like its been following me..._ He turned back to Garrus, and saw his entire team gazing at him in worry, and finally made out Garrus' words, "Shepard? Hello? What's wrong? Shepard!?"

He nodded, "I'm okay, Garrus. I was just thinking," he looked up at the rachni queen, sighing as he crossed his arms, looking back down at the ground.  _Do I condemn her to death, or give her a second chance? If rachni queens reproduce as quickly as I'm led to believe, she could give us a formidable rachni force in the next month; probably half a million. But she also made it clear that these rachni are lost...and she doesn't seem indoctrinated, otherwise the Reapers wouldn't have chained her up. Why imprison the willing? No, she seems like she genuinely wants to help...out of vengeance of course, but she wants to help, nonetheless..._

He looked back up at her, the voice in his head getting thicker, making it feel like his head weighed tonnes, but he ignored it, grimacing as he blinked, "If I let you-"

The walls seemed to shake around them as the room quaked, his team standing still and holding out their hands to keep their balance. As soon as the quake started, it stilled, but Grunt's voice quickly entered his comm, "Shepard! What's your status!? Why isn't the nuke primed by now!?"

He commed back, voice hurried, "We've found the rachni queen, but she isn't as compromised as we thought," he looked back up at her, still not having reached a decision, "Did you feel that quake?"

"Yes, the enemy are on the move," Grunt pondered, "Their numbers are building, and the swarm seems to be pushing harder; they're getting desperate."

 _The Reapers must know we're reaching a resolution with the queen and the weapon we have. They must have connected the dots and are launching a last ditch attempt to stop us. They'll be sending everything they have._ He commed back, knowing Aralakh Company couldn't possibly hold against a force like that, "Grunt, get in here! EDI, close the door behind them!"

"We're not-"

"They're sending everything they have. You won't even be able to delay them," he barked, "Get you and your company in here now, and that's an order!"

The queen seemed to shake with fear, "The children return! They will destroy us all!" he looked down at them, "Release us!"

He looked up at her, pointing a finger, "Are you capable of fighting the Reapers? Will you help us? Join forces with us?"

"Captain, you cannot be considering-" Javik began, but was cut off by the queen's response.

"We  _hate_ the machines!" the queen boomed, "We will fight for our unborn children! For the promise of a new rachni species! Our numbers will swarm through the stars, silencing the sour notes! RELEASE US, AND THE SOUR NOTES SHALL TREMBLE!"

Marcus turned to his squad, having made his decision, "What do you guys think?"

"I think it is foolish," Javik piped up, "I told you the rachni are untrustworthy."

"Because you treated them like animals!" Liara shouted at him, turning back to Marcus, "Shepard, we've learnt the rachni weren't responsible for the Rachni Wars. The queen deserves a chance! Besides, you remember what you said about the advantage the Reapers would have? What if we utilized it ourselves! The full power of the rachni people! Shepard, please, do not condemn to death!"

"I agree," Garrus added, "The rachni possess forces we can't afford to pass up."

"But how would she get out?" Keeling piped up, shrugging, "We still have a nuke to detonate. How would she escape?"

"Rachni burrow," Marcus pointed out, smiling, "She'll burrow under ground. Further she burrows, the more the nuke won't harm her."

"Once detonated, she can rise and we can send a pick up," Wrex added, all eyes on him, and he shrugged, "Rachni are immune to nuclear radiation. Council found that out when they tried nuking Suen. Didn't do a thing to the rachni, and they simply soked up the radiation."

"Then that solves it," he whorled around just in time to see Grunt and his men erupt through the door, finishing with the door closing behind them. That long after, Grunt marched up to him, growling as he tossed away his broken, twisted heavy machine gun.

"Rachni have flooded that area," Grunt informed them, "No way we can head back that way."

"Wasn't the plan," Marcus replied back simply, looking up at the queen, "I'm going to let you go, but only if you join the UGC and help us fight the Reapers."  _And Cerberus, if need be._

"We will crush the machines!" the queen declared, shouting her anger to the enemy above, "We will scatter their dust among the stars! They will know the wrath wrought by our sweeter notes! Ours will drown theirs out!"

"Then we free the queen," he readied his Revenant, pointing to the shackles, "Grunt, your claymore. Aim at the shackles."

Grunt growled, reloading his shotgun, "I'm telling you, I don't think this is a good idea."

He took aim, ignoring the krogan's objections, "That's an order! She's too valuable an asset to lose! Now take aim and fire!"

He fired, his weapon's heavy rounds easily tearing the shackles apart on the queen's left hand, Grunt's claymore blasting the one on her right asunder. The queen roared in freedom, shaking her hands, as if unbelieving of her salvation. She swiped her hand across one incline, the rock collapsing from the top and spreading over the area in a thick avalanche. They backed away as one of its feet crashed to the ground infront of them, shaking the entire cavern, followed by its second, shaking it so hard that more rocks came loose. It looked down at him with what he swore would have been a smile.

"Our children will know of your constant forgiveness," the queen bellowed, "And they will know this as they fight beside your songs, helping them silence the sour notes." And with that, the queen whorled around and charged, breaking through another wall of rock with a thunderous explosion, rocks showering around it as it charged down the makeshift tunnel to freedom.

Marcus turned around, putting his hand in his pocket as he pulled out the detonator, turning to Keeling, who had been working on the nuke the entire time, "Is it primed?"

A loud beep was his answer as the N7 stood up, unholstering her rifle, "Now it is. Ready for remote detonation."

"Captain," EDI spoke, "The Reapers are overriding my hacks."

"I think I've found an exit!" Grunt barked at them, the squad and the hanar platoon turning to see Aralakh Company and Grunt waiting at the end, where a massive tunnel seemed to lead out. Grunt motioned to it with his arm, rushing forward, "Come on! I can hear them coming!"

"Double time it people! MOVE!" As one they moved at his command, the entire squad running for their lives as they made a mad dash for freedom.

They rushed up the incline, the tunnel seeming to edge towards the exit; a perputual exit route straight to the surface. Their breaths became more laboured, but they continued to twist and turn around every corner, up every ramp, and every incline. They did not stop for breath, and did not stop to turn to face the many screeches sounding behind them.

Just as they reached an area seperating into two (on the right a ramp up to the surface and the left more caves) they all came to a stop, all backing up against a wall. Marcus pushed through, eager to find out what the hold up was.  _We don't have time for this. We have the ravagers breathing down our backs, and a primed nuke ready to blow. We need to leave or become atomic dust...literally!_

He finally reached the front, where he found Grunt, back pressed against the wall with a grimace on his face. Seeing Marcus arrived, he twisted his head and their eyes. Seeing the curiosity in them, he silently motioned his head to the right, and into the caves. The spectre did as told, tilting his head to look inside, and widened his eyes at what he saw.

The cave was swarming with ravagers and workers, but most of them looked to be preparing an ambush for them, not knowing they were looking at them. Marcus brought his head away from the crevice, meeting Grunt's words as he mouthed the words 'fucking hell.'

But when he saw the change in Grunt's eyes, something stopped. He saw regret in them, yet there was a fierce determination, a fury. Grunt loosened his grip on his claymore as let it hang in one hand, turning to his company. Sighing, he pointed up the path, a growl in his voice, "The exit is just up that path," he turned back to the ravagers, pumping a shell into his shotgun, "I'll hold them off."

_No..._

Marcus moved to place a hand on his shoulder, but Grunt whorled on him, face coming inches from his own, teeth bared in a thin line, trying to whisper his words as best as possible, " _Now,_ Shepard!"

Marcus answered with his own, "You don't get to-"

Grunt shoved him back, waving at him to leave, "Leave now, Shepard! You don't have long! GO!" He shouted the last bit, running into the cave, roaring as he fired his shotgun into the enemy horde, knocking a few aside in the event of his sudden assault; even the ravagers seemed surprised by it. Marcus felt the compulsion to go back and get him, but he stopped himself in his tracks.

_He wouldn't want his sacrifice to be for nothing..._

He watched the krogan fighting, the supersoldier looking content with his death. He felt Aralakh Company rush past him, followed by the hanar platoon, all readily following Grunt's orders. The krogan just continued fighting, never seeming to tire, fighting on relentlessly, even as the ravagers closed around him.

He turned in that moment, and rushed after the platoon, his squad following behind him.  _Give them hell, Grunt._

Suddenly, the light up above wasn't so alleviating after all, even when he saw it two minutes later.

Considering the krogan company and hanar platoon with them, Marcus had figured calling in the Normandy itself for pickup was the better option, and so he watched as Aralakh and the hanar marines moved up the ramp into the stealth frigate's shuttle bay. He turned to the cave exit, thinking about how Grunt died within those caves to make sure they lived.  _Did he die for nothing? Was saving us even worth it? What are we in the grand scheme of the galaxy?_ Garrus joined his side, solemnly looking at the ground as Marcus turned to him.

"I never got along with Grunt. Too many death threats. He threatened to rip my mandibles off once," Garrus spoke lowly, almost mumbling his words. When he finished his first sentence he looked up, facing Marcus fully, "But he was a damn good soldier, and I'm sure Wrex would be calling him the best damn krogan in history right now. He died to make sure we got out okay and, right now, that's the greatest sacrifice there is. I couldn't think of a better one."

Marcus nodded, turning back to the entrance with a sigh as he prepared to walk up the ramp, holstering his Revenant in the backpack on his back, "Yeah, you're right. Come on Garrus, the Reapers will probably be here soon, and I want to make sure the queen will have survived the blast once we're through with it. Then we'll head for the Citadel, get Aralakh over to UGC HQ and give Opold and his platoon back to the Primacy. Then I'll inform Hackett of Dadmagan's desertion; he can inform Balak if he wishes. I'm not in the mood to talk to that scumbag."

"You just lost a friend," Garrus responded grimly, "We both-" Suddenly, the turian's voice stopped and Marcus halted, frowning.

"We both what, Garrus?"

"You son of a bitch!"

"Excuse me?" Marcus questioned, whorling to face the turian, "I am not-" Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and as he looked up, he swore his eyes widened in amazement, and shock.

There stood Grunt, covered head-to-toe in black ichor, hissing as it bit into his armor, the krogan gritting his teeth as it melted his skin and then said skin regenerated, the krogan looking about to collapse from the numerous wounds on his body, also missing his trademark claymore.

"Anybody..." he groaned, "...got something to eat?" He then collapsed onto his knees, Garrus and Marcus rushing over to his side as Wrex erupted from the shuttle bay, followed by laughter from said chieftain.

Marcus could only smile as he hefted one hand under Grunt's shoulder, and Garrus under his other one and they both, with some effort, moved the krogan supersoldier onto the Normandy and towards the medical bay. Then, the mess hall. Grunt was hungry, afterall.

In the end, the day ended much better than he thought it would.

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1417 hours._

_1 kilometer from Underground Cave Network, Anunnaki Planes, Southern Hemisphere, Utukku._

_The Reaper War._

_Sergeant Kechi Dadmagan._

He dry heaved as he left his other leg, bringing it onto one of the rocks in front of him, dropping his rifle in the process, the weight becoming just too much to bear. The batarian fell forward, but managed to catch himself, pushing himself up and back to standing as he turned to his squad, watching one of his men collapse to the ground in a heap, dying from heat stroke while the rest sweated in the fury of Mulla Xul, Utukku's sun.

The red sky was pale and boring to one's eyes, but to Dadmagan, it reminded him of Khar'Shan, of home. The sky was almost identical in color, and he could imagine one of the cities of said planet infront of him. Instead, all he got was a thunderous boom entering his ears, and as he looked up, watched the sleek, flawlessly polished form of a Normandy-Class Alliance Stealth Frigate shoot off into the atmosphere, the noise of its engines echoing across Utukku's planes for kilometers as its large form eventually got smaller and smaller as it crawled through the atmosphere, and towards the Nimmah Cluster's relay, located in the Maskim Xul System.

He spat in the face of the escaping Shepard, but instantly regretted his decision of desertion.  _I thought the rachni would overwhelm and kill all of them...maybe I should have-_

A short second later, he fell forwards, the ground quaking uncontrollably and causing his face to slam into the rock, smashing his nose and causing him to howl in pain as he fell face first into the dust. He spat it out as it tried to find entrance in his mouth, and he forced his arms to roll him onto his back, feeling liquid pour across his face, realizing it was his own blood. But that wasn't nearly as terrifying as what he saw before him.

A mushroom cloud, looming over him, only a kilometer away, numerous rings surrounding it. He stood up, ignoring the flaring pain in his nose as he saw the source; what had been the mountain housing the cave complex had been totally obliterated, the area where it had been now a crater where the mushroom cloud housed itself; the ground around it for at least half a kilometer and caved in, creating one of the biggest craters he had ever seen.  _Every single one of those ravagers is now just gone...obliterated._ But as he was about to find out, the nuke hadn't finished claiming victims.

He screamed as he felt his skin heat up to unbearable temperatures slowly before beginning to blister and boil, some of it peeling off as he watched. Finally, his entire body combusted into flames, and he could only scream his voice out as he watched the explosive wave reach towards him.

In the end, he didn't even feel it hit him as everything went dark, the pain ending in a heartbeat.

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1425 hours._

_Mess Hall, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt._

Grunt wanted something to eat.

Marcus could only watch on, calmly drinking his cup of steaming hot coffee, having just had Chakwas patch up his burns on his foot, as Grunt tore apart an entire chicken, devouring it with his huge, carnivorous teeth; flesh, bones and all.

Actually, make that five whole chickens. Roasted, of course.

"I put alot of effort into cooking those chickens you know," Rupert scolded, shaking his head, "Shame to see them treated so poorly."

"What can I say?" Wrex responded, chortling, slapping an overly focused Grunt on the back, "The runt is starving, and I say he deserves it. Anything's better than the old varren meat."

"I thought you liked that stuff?" Marcus asked, still enraptured by Grunt's eating. The chicken bones stood no chance as the krogan bit right through them, snapping them almost effortlessly without any pain.

"Its alright, but wouldn't keep this pyjak satisfied for very long," Wrex grinned, "Would it?"

"Probably not," Marcus replied, shaking his head as he took another sip of his coffee, reaching over to his procured plate of donuts, picking out a cinnamon one and taking a decent-sized bite.

"I hope you don't devour those as...efficiently, as Mr. Grunt does," Gardner pleads from his kitchen, Marcus smiling in his direction.

"Have no fear, Rupert," he shouted back, tossing a datapad onto the table and scrolling through the recent reports, "I'm not  _that_  hungry." But as he worked through the reports, he slowly lost his smile, until it was non-existent. Damn it, the losses were getting astoundingly ridiculous.

Another 600,000 had taken to the country side on Earth according to Anderson, who had managed to procure a QEC to coordinate with the UGC, 200,000 of which hadn't made it and were either captured by the Reapers to concentration camps or slaughtered wholesale; they hadn't even bothered to send troops to do it, instead opting to incinerate them with sweeps of their thanix cannons. The United North American States had been completely shattered, with thousands of refugees fleeing, while the entire continent effectively became one giant Reaper husk factory. Vancouver had been completely razed, Washington D.C fallen, and the Reapers had swept through Central America like it was nothing and assaulted South America. Within days, that continent fell as well.

Europe and Asia faired no better. The European Union was totally decimated, with Britain, Germany, Belgium, France and Sweden the ones holding out the longest before the fall. The Russians, just like their predecessors in the Napoleonic Wars and Second World War, had attempted to use their old time best general, Winter, against the Reapers, but when you were a machine that could feel no temperature, it mattered little. For the best time in Russian history, Russia fell to an outside power; and not just fell, but completely annihilated. China fell quickly as well and while Japan put up a valiant effort, they barely stood a chance. India was given no quarter, and Australia called upon New Zealand for help, but the latter surrendered to the Reapers, only for their country to turn into another husk factory. Australia's defenses were totally unprepared, and it fell in a week.

Surprisingly, it was the Middle Eastern Confederacy that held out the longest and, disbelievingly, Anderson had been taken aback to hear rumors that Egyptian and Israeli forces working in tandem had managed to destroy two Reaper Destroyers with nuclear payloads, having smuggled them onboard. It was an idea Anderson wanted to try with the other planets, and had passed on to Hackett. Their defenses fell within a few days, but Israel was holding strong and for some unknown reason, the Reapers were totally ignoring Jerusalem.

As for the rest of the galaxy, no such miracles were to be found. Another million turians on Palaven were slaughtered, the salarians had been forced to evacuate Mannovai in the wake of a possible Reaper invasion, the hanar and volus homeworlds were under siege, with hundreds dying every day or being converted into new, ungodly abominations, and the asari's hit-and-run tactics were starting to wear thin under the fears of a possible Reaper invasion into asari territory. And finally, of course, Illium had finally fallen to the Reapers, the planet being declared a galactic 'no-fly zone' and that any attempt to militarily liberate it had been 'postponed indefinitely.' Overall, the entire effort to save the galaxy was effectively going nowhere. Their fates lay with the UGC, and the Crucible.

 _We just need to finish it and find the Catalyst in time...and continue building our forces..._ The rachni queen had survived the blast on Utukku and Hackett, while surprised and shocked, had eventually given into sending a troop ship to pick her up and secretly transport her to UGC HQ, where she would be placed on a nearby world and given room to breed. The rachni people would begin anew, and the UGC would have its rachni troops and, if they get that far, a reborn rachni fleet.

A loud burp interrupted his sombre thoughts as he looked up, Grunt pushing his plate away, leaving no signs that five chickens even existed. As Gardner, as forlornly as possible, recovered the plates, Wrex turned to look at him, "Well Grunt, I think its time to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Marcus asked as he finished his donut, now going for a chocolate one as he deactivated his datapad, slipping into his jacket's breast pocket.

"I'm staying on the Normandy, Shepard," Grunt declared, "Me and my company. You'll need the extra hands, at least until the genophage cure is sorted."

Marcus turned to Wrex, raising an eyebrow, "And Wreav authorized this?"

Wrex rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand, "What, the puppet leader? I'm in command, remember? Who cares what the whelp thinks. Grunt wants to stay with you, and I've allowed it for now. That's all that matters."

Marcus could only smile as he held out his hand, Grunt taking it with pride, "Welcome back onboard, Grunt, for however brief it might be."

"Good to be back," the supersoldier replied, grinning, "I'll be in my room, if anyone needs me."

Marcus, remembering who now occupied it, quickly stood up, shaking his head, "No no no no, Grunt. Javik lives in there now."

Grunt looked hurt, "You've replaced me? With a...with a  _fleshy_ like him?"

"No!" Marcus replied, "He chose it!"

"Oh..." the krogan scratched the back of his neck, but then continued his path anyway, smiling, "Time to sort somethings out then."

Marcus sighed, facepalming as he held his hand, listening to Wrex's chuckling, "He'll be fine! You worry too much."

Marcus looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "No, last time he smashed a window with his head because he felt the need to kill something. I don't want the window to be replaced by Javik's body."

Wrex only laughed, and Marcus could only grin as he took another bite of his donut.

_Oh...those two warriors will sort it out._

**"So I'm guessing what occured next was...what?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Time on the Citadel, restock, and then...all hands on deck again."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"For what?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"The first worst day of the war."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**That's right! Next chapter is an interim, and then a major mission; it'll be a two part chapter, so you know shit is serious.** _

_**And yes, contrary to many beliefs, I live, and continue to be the fullfillment of your worst nightmares. You are welcome to share your pain. :)** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	23. Beating the Drums of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his exile, Peta decides to join the Blue Suns to redeem himself. Tali and Koris fight against the growing tide of support for renewed war with the geth. Cerberus assaults Port Hanshan to capture their defecting scientists, and Jacob tries his best to protect them. Javik schools Shepard on the necessity of sacrifice.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY:**

**BEATING THE DRUMS OF WAR**

_June 18, 2186_

_1629 hours._

_Flux, Upper Wards, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Mechanic Peta'Tasi vas Nedas._

The music pulsed in a constant rhythm, never ceasing, as seemed to be the theme for most of these establishments, Peta observed.

He took another long, drawn out sip of his luke-warm water, the substance having since long warmed up in his present atmosphere. He had barely touched it, simply learning to deal with the scenery around him; dancers moving around on the dance floor, bartenders handing out drinks and the quasar machines dishing out their loud cacophonies, the sounds of cheering audiences echoing from the upper level. Overall, Flux was much nicer than Afterlife, and definitively better than Eternity on Illium. Not that it mattered; both of those were likely ruins now; one conquered by Cerberus, the other smoldering ruins due to Reaper siege warfare.  _The whole galaxy is awash with blood, and I'm just sitting here, all safe and cozy on the Citadel._

The husk of the man once known as Peta of Clan Yala, Crew of the Rayya, hopeless lover and mechanic, was a bitter, pathetic shell of a man. He no longer had a clan, no ship, no lover, and his trade gave him no comfort. He had been exiled by his people, cast out after committing a horrible crime, his clan name and ship torn from his name, making Tasi and Nedas respectively; he was noone, and belonged to nowhere. And the very person he loved the most was likely trying to forget this existence, or had found battle with the Reapers. For all he knew, his people were no more, destroyed by the Reaper fleets.

 _She hates me, and she has all the best reasons to do so._ His crime had been trying to kill her husband (or who was going to be), but his rage had consumed him, and he had accidentally attacked her instead; it had been evidence enough to have him cast out.

Worst thing about it? He held no bitterness against his exilers. Against his the man who married his love. For he deserved every bit of it.  _I'm just surprised noone's called me 'suit-rat' or tried to use my people's racial stereotype to make profit out of me. Maybe they're more worried about the war going on around us than they are of some quarian stealing from them. Good. Last thing I need is to be bothered._

Sure, he got the occassional sneer, but what did he care? They weren't bothering him and they'd didn't approach him, so why give them attention? If he were honest, there was nothing in this galaxy that could faze him anymore. Nothing could make him angry, lustful, passionate or remotely happy. His moral compass was all screwed up, and he couldn't see straight without seeing people from his past. Couldn't look at any beautiful, youthful young human woman without seeing...her...

He visibly grimaced behind his mask, deciding to wash away his sorrows with a long, good sip of his drink. He let the cool liquid drift down his throat and ease his mind, before removing the induction port from his vocalizer and closing it, placing the straw back in the drink and pushing it away slightly. Crossing his arms on the table, he picked up the datapad he had on the table infront of him and stole a quick glance; simply a rapid scan of the contents once more to affirm what he had read.  _So Rodgers wants me to fix one of the quasars here? Was that because Doran asked, or is he playing the good samaritan?_

Again with the questions.  _Keelah Peta, who cares? You're getting paid. Seems good enough._

Yeah, 52 credits per task seemed like an okay deal.  _Well, not really. I know for a fact he's giving me a lower wage because I'm a quarian, but I just don't care. Its enough to keep me occupied._ He had a basic apartment down in the lower wards (as he definitely could not hope to afford an apartment on the Presidium. That's where all the rich folk went to live) and had a basic job as a mechanic at Max's Work Shop neighbouring Flux, luckily.

 _Concentrate. Quasar machine, fix, get paid, head home, cause no trouble._ Peta had long since learnt that if you don't start trouble, you won't receive trouble as greatly. It had turned him into a very moderate person; an isolationist, along with deciding that his personal, continued existence was torture in itself; a punishment he inflicted upon himself, with his people's help.

His omni-tool suddenly beeped, and he immediately knew who it was, and the intent. But he thought it was better to face the music before it got any worse. He had long since become indifferent towards any outside emotion; emotion had been what got him in his predicament to begin with.

He opened the message, seeing it was coming from Max Rodgers, his employer. Opening the link, he watched the human's face appear, his grissled face lacking any character or attraction. Anger had taken over his daily emotion, ever since Reaper warfare disrupted his trade routes and began destroying his freighters. He was running low on supplies, and there was only so much you could find in the Citadel's reserves. But now he just looked frustrated, tired.

"Doran hasn't called to thank me yet," Max immediately declared, frowning, "Which I guess means that machine isn't fixed yet. What is taking you so long?"

Peta replied pensively, sighing as he did, "Took a moment to fetch myself a drink. Got thirsty."  _Deception is the key to one's downfall. I also learnt that lesson well._

Max growled, shaking his head, "Listen quarian, you got this job out of necessity. I'm short on staff, but I'm quickly starting to hire some more out of the refugees in that camp in the Shalta Ward. So if you're not careful, you will find yourself on the street. Don't take advantage of my generosity. Now get up there and fix that machine, Peta. When I call again, the job better be done."

He simply nodded, cutting the connection as he took a final sip of his drink, coming to stand as he pushed his chair in. Standing, he placed his credit chit on the table, not caring if someone stole it or Doran got it or not. It didn't matter to him. What's the point of making amends of a stereotype when they continued to perputuate despite your efforts to stuff the flames? None. Might as well leave the flames be; don't fuel them. He made his way towards the steps leading to the upper level of the club, where the quasar machines were located; the galaxy's little gambling land.

He got the job done very quickly; he was good at that. Quarians were excellent at their trade, be it engineering or mechanics, leadership or combat, when they learnt a trade, they stuck to it; it became their life, they had nothing else to live for but the continuation of the Fleet. So noone was surprised when a quarian mechanic turned up to fix a quasar machine, and it was done in five minutes.  _Just a defensive mechanism. Someone must have tried to use a cheating device on this, and the machine went into standby mode. By the looks of it, the coding was salarian. Who else could design a cheating device of this magnitude?_ The coding had no signature, so he didn't bother trying to identify who sent it. Despite the cheating, he couldn't even be bothered sending a tip to C-Sec; he just didn't see the point. Besides, those racist morons would just pin it all on him anyway; say he designed it and tried to blame it on someone else.  _Political and racial equality. I'm definitely living a dream. I really feel equal._

Packing up, he quickly acquired all his tools once more and moved down the steps towards the entrance, giving a brief nod in the human bouncer's direction as he headed out, moving down the steps outside on his way back to the shop, ignoring the world around him.  _What an average day. Whole worlds under siege, homeworlds falling, entire militaries crippled, the apocalypse raining down on us, and I'm having just an average day. Puts my life into perspective, doesn't it?_

The shop itself was pretty empty today; only Max was there to greet him, and he waved him off pretty quickly so he could concentrate on the screen infront of him; a Battlespace report of the carnage of on Irune flooding the screen. Max regarded it with composure, but seemed to be moved by the images, and Peta swore he saw the man flinch from an image on the screen as the quarian put the tools away. With the tools put away, he turned back to Max, crossing his arms over the table surface, "Any other clients want anything done, ?"

The man ignored him, eyes fixated on the screen. Peta rolled his eyes, speaking again, "Sir? Anything else?"

"Shut up!" Max shouted back, barely taking his eyes off the news report, "Are you seeing any of this shit? Look! Poor, gas-sucking bastards."

Peta sighed as he looked over the counter, watching the news report. Text scrolled past the bottom in human English, and his translator said it read 'Lenos fallen. Irune burns. Reaper blockade prevents evacuation and aid. Protectorate begs Hierarchy for help.' But it wasn't the words anyone would pay attention to. It was the images.

The news reporter present during the battle, Diana Allers, stood in the middle of a street, hiding behind concrete as she faced the camera, her human, flowing black hair mattled and pitted with dried white blood, that of volus', her terrifed eyes shining through the haze of cuts that permeated her once beautiful face. Gunfire could be heard, followed by screaming that could only belong to volus, accompanied by the screeches of Reaper husk hordes overruning whatever 'existing' volus checkpoints were left. The volus military was practically non-existent, with the Protectorate having relied solely on turian backing; backing that wasn't present. Flames rose up into the sky, reaching up to meet their makers as the hulk of a Reaper destroyer skulked across the landscape, knocking aside a building without any effort as it fired beams of death into the streets below, likely killing entire throngs of people. It was butchery. Complete slaughter.

"I am here in Lenos where the heaviest of the fighting seems to be!" Allers reported, covering her head as dust blew into her face from a nearby explosion. Reporters like her recovered though, used to having to risk their lives to report news during a battle. Who would tell it? The volus? There would be none left. Hell, if it wasn't for the Reapers concentrating on Irune, all the comm buoys in that cluster would be gone and noone would know what was going on on Irune, "Reaper forces have totally destroyed the volus militia and are butchering people in the streets! The Hierarchy seems unable to respond, with the volus left to fight the Reapers alone! The volus bombing fleet and main navy seems to have completely abandoned Irune; they cannot be found!"

"Christ, help them..." Max almost sobbed. Peta turned to him, but the human quickly noticed and rapidly got rid of any tears he shed, sniffing. Peta sighed, and turned away, moving over to the candy machine in the back; it was still broken, and needed fixing for a while, he just never got around to it. Besides, he had no lost love for the volus; he lost count of the amount of times they tried to buy him or sell him into whatever fucked up situation they could think of. So when he heard Allers scream on the TV, and Max shout, "Holy fucking shit!" he barely acknowledged it, choosing to instead skulk away, concentrate on working. Was Allers dead? Why should he care? He didn't know her, and didn't particularly want to. The faster the Reapers took the Citadel and killed him, the better he would feel, honestly.

He sighed as he grabbed hold of the access hatch to the candy machine and unscrewed it, placing it to the side as he hit the flashlight attachment on his helmet to see inside. He spotted the problem almost immediately; a misplaced wire.  _We work in a mechanics shop, and the manager can't even spot this fault? The places I find work in..._ Getting out, he turned off his flashlight as he moved to the back and switched the power off; he didn't want to electricute himself. Going back, he held the two wires together and strung them back together, using a heating program on his omni-tool to fuse them back together. With all that said and done, he pulled out and shouted out to Max, "Its fixed! Turned out to be misplaced wire!"  _And you're a shit mechanic. But I'll keep that to myself. Farba'tulut, how did I end up under the wing of such incompetence? Shouldn't a professional be running this store?_

"Yeah, whatever," Max waved off, "Leave it to fucking quarians to be careless. People dying all over the galaxy and you're more concerned over fixing a damn candy machine. Kids are more interested in their omni-tools than that piece of shit anyway!"

 _People die in war, and this is the biggest war of them all. Should I weep tears for every death? If I did that, I would dry out._ He chose to simply not respond however, scratching the back of his suited neck as he placed his tool box down, growling as he saw that Max had the heater at full bore.  _Is this human seeking to warm us to death?_ He raised his omni-tool and turned the thing off completely, shaking his head as he finished placing his tools away.  _This man doesn't think, I swear it to the ancestors. Keelah._

With a drawn out sigh, he collapsed in one of the nearby, hardwood chairs in the staff room, bringing out his omni-tool and searching his FanFiction alerts list; it was a human idea combined with that of many literate asari minds, and they eventually came together to build an extranet version of the original . Now species across the galaxy could post their favourite fanfics, and Peta liked delving into his favourites.

Then he saw it.

_(New Chapter) Sailing the Galactic Winds: Prophetic Utopia._

He grimaced, and quickly moved to delete the update, as well as unfollow the author and the story. No, he could not go through that again. Not another Fleet and Flotilla fanfic. It reminded him too much of...of...

He skipped those thoughts, instead turning to an update more to his liking. A fanfic for a game called Gears of Halo Theft Auto 6: Salvation Army Edition. A game apparently worked on by companies Rockstar, 343 and Epic Games, and was one of humanity's favourite games, and became a commercial hit in the galactic gaming industry until the Reapers arrived and everything fell apart.

_(New Chapter) Marcus Chief Robs A Bank: The Untold Idiocy._

_When Marcus Chief, a supersoldier that leaves wielding unbelievably brutal weapons, decides he needs more money, he decides to rob a bank. How? But doing what he does best; killing innocent people and blowing shit up. He doesn't need a reason, and neither do I. Here's the Untold Idiocy; untold for a reason. Might add Reapers to spice things up._

The mention of Reapers put him off. How could people make fun of things like that? What place did he live in where it was okay to make light of the deaths of thousands, millions, of people? The Reapers weren't a joke; they were a conjured nightmare. In the end, he gave up and was closing his omni-tool when he heard Max speak, obviously speaking to someone. No, multiple people, by his words, "Can I do something for you gentlemen?"

"Just gentlemen?" Came a female voice that sounded hardened, experienced, and most of all, like a veteran, "I think you're being a bit sexist, sir."

"Sexist?" Max blurted out, shaking his head erratically, having completely forgotten about Peta as said quarian leaned in to listen to the conversation, "No! No no no! Not sexist! Just didn't see ya, that's all!"

"I'm just yanking your chain, Rodgers," the woman replied, and from where he was standing, he saw two, armoured elbows lean against the counter, "I would never be so petty as to call a man sexist when he merely didn't notice me. I leave that kind of bitching and moaning to modern feminists, and oh lord, do they spew some bullshit, I'll sympathsize."

"Well's that good," Rodgers replied, visibly gulping, "Again, what can I do for you?"

Peta watched as one human came into full few, vindicator battle rifle strapped to his back and head-to-toe in blue and white medium battle armor and wearing a featureless helmet that stared at Max with two, lifeless blue eyes for visors. He recognized them instantly.  _Blue Suns mercenaries. But what are they doing here, at our shop, let alone on the Citadel with weapons?_

"Straight to business. Very well," she replied, her elbows disappearing as she leaned back, "I'll be blunt as well. I've heard a quarian works here."

He nodded, "W-what? Quarian? No! I don't hire quarians! I mean, why would I? They're scum! No ma'am, I would not-"

"Two things you should know Rodgers," the woman cut him off, her voice lowering dangerously, "One, I seriously have a problem with bullshitters, especially when  _ **I saw**_  the quarian, myself, walk down this hall,  _ **converse**_ with you, fix a candy machine, and enter your store. Two, I don't care if he's scum or truly is nothing more than a low life oxygen thief, but racism is racism, and, if you ask me, just as bad as sexism, wouldn't you say?"

Max's eyes widened into saucers, "Me!? Sexist? Hell no! I respect women! Would never-I am not racist! I just-yes, okay! The quarian works here! Do you want him dead? Is that it? Do you have a contract to kill him? Because go right ahead! By all means! I don't want him! He's incompetent! A fool!"

_Oh really?_ _**I'm** _ _the fool? You bloody bosh'tet, Rodgers._

"Oh, so now you sell out your own employee?" the woman tsked, "You disappoint me more and more, Rodgers. Admitting the quarian was here was enough, but you had to sell him out? And incompetent? What does that make you? More useless that a fat blind and deaf man?" she growled, "I watched him while he fixed that machine and how he informed you of its completion. You could almost say it was patronizing. You run this store out of luck, Rodgers. I think the quarian is more useful than you. Besides, I've heard more than positive feedback from his clients. A matter of fact, my boss was very impressed by how he fixed his shuttle's engines. He's on the Citadel right now, actually."

"Wait..." Max replied, stuttering, "Mas...Massani is here? Right now?"

"Right now, yes," she replied drolly, "In a few seconds, maybe not. Commander Massani is a very busy man. But that is not the topic at hand here," she stated, "The quarian."

He nodded, "What...what about him? Do you want him de-"

"No we do not want him dead, you idiot!" she snapped, almost causing Max to lose his footing. There was no sound for a bit, and Peta leaned around the corner, managing to finally get a good look at the woman in question...and the squad of Blue Suns mercs, ranging from batarians to turians to humans surrounding her.

She had long, flowing raven black hair, that was cut perfectly to stop just below her neck, and she had a Revenant LMG strapped to her back, with a carnifex heavy pistol on her hip. She wore the same medium armor they all did, but her kinetic barrier, from what he could tell, was far more advance; at least military grade; the stuff Alliance and Turian Marines used in combat situations.  _Top of the grade stuff, even for a mercenary._ She looked beautiful, though...for a human.

She calmed down, putting on a fake smile, "I apologize, I think I...lost my cool for a second. Allow us to start again," she saw Max moving to speak again, raising her hand to silence him, "With you shutting up this time. Now, we don't want the quarian dead. We don't want him harmed. Nothing like that. What we want is for you to call to him, and bring him out."

Peta gulped, eyes widening.  _What do they want with me?_

"What?" Max asked, looking around at them, "What could you want with a quarian mechanic? He's barely worth the credits I pay him."

"Tsk tsk, that racism again," she replied, turning to a turian at her side, "Yulus, I think its time we showed him we aren't running a galactic KKK here. Break a finger; how much is up to you. Repairable, beyond repair, I don't care, just make it hurt."

The turian nodded, and was moving forward when Max almost screamed out, "PETA! GET OUT HERE NOW, PEOPLE TO SEE YOU!"

"And so the words come out. Motivation, it really purifies the soul," she smiled, whorling and meeting Peta's eyes dead on. As if seeing his surprise, she laughed, shaking her head, "What? You thought I couldn't see you eavesdropping? I noticed your shadow falling on that wall to the left. I knew you were there the whole time."

"If you knew he was there, then why not tell him to come out of hiding!" Max snapped, clearly angry as he backed away from the turian, "Why the threats!"

She shrugged, "I was finding myself amusement. Besides, you have to admit Yulus, his scream was quite unmanly."

"Quite," the turian responded with his gravelly tone, "Almost pathetic."

"Puberty must be taking its time," one human jested, "Nice and slow, making sure its got the sound right before it matures."

"Screw you!" Max cursed, "You're not on Omega! You don't rule this place! You can't just intimidate me! I'll call C-Sec!"

"Go ahead," the woman replied, almost daring him with her piercing glare, "Massani will just call them off. A nice bribe goes a long way."

"You can't-" Max just looked at her, flabbergasted, " _Bribery?_ Bribing C-Sec? This is not 21st Century Earth! You cannot just bribe Citadel police officers! They are incorruptible men and women who cannot-"

"You are a pathetic little rodent, Max. Do not think that advancements in technology means advancement in morality. Bribery never changes, it simply moves with the times," she replied, "How the fuck do you think I'm carrying this light machine gun on my back? Its not because I flashed my best smile and tickled them. They didn't just let us waltz through. C-Sec is in our  _pocket,_ Rodgers. Palin isn't in control anymore, so you'd best wake up. The new Executor is just another corrupt politician, and he's quite content to nibble on the credits we give him, just so long as he's content to let us do our business. So go ahead, call them. I guarantee the Executor will call them when they hear my men are involved."

"You cannot do-"

"Shut your mouth, you little insect!" she growled, finally losing her temper, "I grow sick of your sycophancy! Either shut up or disappear! Either one will make me happy!" She turned to Peta, who now stood in the open, letting her temper die down alittle, waving him forward, "Come forward, quarian, and tell us your name and profession."

He nodded, approaching with disinterest as he clasped his hands behind his back, enabling an incineration program on his omni-tool incase things went south, "Peta. Peta'Yal-," quickly remembering he no longer owned that name, he spoke his true,  _new_ name, "Peta'Tasi vas Nedas. I am a mechanic."

"And quite a savant at it, I hear," she replied, smiling, "We are the Blue Suns, as you probably already know, and my boss, Mr. Massani, has taken quite an interest in you."

"I thought Santiago ran the Suns?" Peta found himself asking, confused.

The woman smiled slightly, nodding, "It hasn't been that way for a...year. Massani and Santiago had a...falling out. In the end, it was one Santiago lost. Massani rules us now, and he's done a better job than that coward anyway. Santiago was piss weak, and he was only grinding us into the ground with his cowardice and paranoia. Massani has united us, given us a cause. We fight for something now; we are mercenaries of the UGC now."

"The UGC?" Max suddenly asked, snorting, "You mean the United Galactic Confederacy? What a joke! Its doomed to fail! The Reapers are too powerful!"

"Your negative criticism will be kindly noted and binned," she dryly replied, turning back to Peta, "Along with the Eclipse, Blood Pack, Grim Skulls and pretty much every mercenary conglomerate you can think of. They all serve the UGC now; and Massani is a former associate of the UGC's defacto commander."

 _Shepard._ Peta had heard over the news about the UGC; the galaxy's last hope. A desperate union that sought to unite all the powers of the galaxy into one, solid fighting force to battle the Reapers; the final bastion when it came to the final battle. And who was the mastermind behind its creation? None other than the husband of the person he loves.

 _Love_ _ **d**_.  _Past tense. She's not yours anymore. Never was._ Shaking his head, he nodded, crossing his arms as he took on a more serious tone with the woman, "I've told you my name, but you haven't told me yours."

"The man picks up fast," she replied, nodding as if in an attempt at a bow, "First Lieutenant Jentha Renmark, Mr. Tasi."

He winced at that, holding back a sigh.  _Does she realize she just called me 'Mr. Noone?' No, I think not._

He nodded courteously, "It is...nice to meet you, but I still don't understand what you'd want with me. Yes, you think I'm a great mechanic, but why do you care? You're mercenaries. You have no use for me."

"You're not a mercenary, no," Jentha replied, nodding, "But you are a great mechanic, and the UGC is recruiting all it can. Why should Shepard bear all the labour? I told Massani we should recruit too; strengthen our forces, fortify the battlements, correct?" Seeing his nod, she smiled, continuing, "Which is why I'm here. You're not a mercenary, you're a mechanic. But given the time, we can make both work in tandem."

Peta considered her words a moment before frowning, eyes widening as he gulped, "And...what exactly are you saying? You want me to help the UGC, or..."

"We want you to join our ranks, to put it bluntly.  _I_ want you to," she stated, motioning to the shop, "Better than staying here with this wimp for a manager. At least with us you'll make a difference. We'll make you a proper soldier, weapons training, pain resistance, first aid, everything. We'll harden you, and make you an asset. The Eclipse shouldn't have all the machinists, and who's better than a salarian other than a quarian? Don't expect to get paid though; as of now, the Blue Suns are going paramilitary. The only pay we get is survival."

Before Peta could even get a word in, Max decided to run his mouth again, "The Blue Suns? None of you are getting paid? You expect me to believe all of you went white knight and decided to play guardians of the galaxy, did you?"

"Who said  _you_  needed convincing?" Jentha remarked, raising an eyebrow at him, "Who said what you thought mattered? And I never said the Blue Suns were happy about it; not getting paid for their contracts is something we despise, including myself, but unlike my subordinates, I know why it needs to be done. Others had to be convinced, and others to just suck it up. So no, we haven't gone 'white knight.' We're the same old assholes, just with one thing to agree on."

 _And what would that be?_ Peta didn't even realize he had said that thought out loud until Jentha turned to him with a grim shake of the head.

"That no amount of credits in the galaxy is worth losing this war. There will be no spoils, no riches, and certainly no grateful Council member giving us the keys to the galactic kingdom for helping save us all: the only reward we'll get is the promise of living, if we make it that far. If not? Well, we'll fight as hard as we can to make sure the others do. That's what this war is about, Peta'Yala vas Rayya. This isn't a pissing contest between mercenary companies, this isn't about petty grudges. This is  _survival._ So you willing to cash in, or pass away?"

He widened his eyes in shock at her words.  _How in ancestors does she know my name?_

Before he could ask, she answered, "I have my sources, and Massani knows what he knows, its not up to me to question it. The important question is, are you in, or are you out? I cannot exaggerate how much a mistake the latter would be."

Peta seemed to think it over, Max crossing his arms as he looked skeptically over at his squire of mechanics.  _On one hand, this is an opportunity to contribute to the war effort; plus, being a soldier and able to fight back will be a real bonus if they decided to redeploy me or if the Reapers attacked the Citadel. On the other hand though...there was a reason I didn't join the MFM back home! I'm a mechanic, not a killer! These hands...they are unbloodied, weak. Hell, just killing one person took all the willpower I could muster, and all the deception I could conjure. Can I really pick up a gun and become a soldier? Can you even train a man to kill when the very thought of the deed makes me shiver and cringe?_

He looked at Jentha, who patiently waited. He nodded, ignoring the tapping of Max's foot as he waited impatiently.  _But that was Peta'Yala. The coward, the rodent who aided Cerberus and the Shadow Broker in attacking his home, massacring dozens of innocent people and proud marines. The man who managed the courage to approach the lion in his den, attempting to kill him, only to get banished. He is dead. He died in the exile he deserved._

_Who am I now? Peta'Tasi vas Nedas; Peta Noone, Crew of Nowhere. Indifferent, emotionless, incapable of caring, and shielded against what Yala failed to shield himself from. I am Peta'Yala without the weakness, without the needs to tie me down, without the unnecessary pandering. His hands were bloodied, and I have received their taint..._

_...only question is, should I do something about that taint, or just mope around about it as Rodgers' little errand boy, or fight back and redeem myself?_

_Gain the redemption Yala failed to achieve._

Finally, he reached a decision, and he met Jentha's gaze.

He nodded.

"I will join your ranks," Peta hesitantly replied, keeping his voice steady, "I will put my skills to use and gain some new ones."

"Perfect," Jentha declared, smiling, "Thank you. Well Peta, if you'll come with us, we'll show you to-"

"What!?" He heard Max roar, "You...you bitch! You stupid fucking whore! You can't just take my only worker away from me, and a quarian at that! I need him! You come in here, and think that pretty face will you get you off the hook? Well I'll tell you what, you-"

"Yulus," Jentha growled, and in a whorl, it was over in a second, and Max screamed.

Peta only looked on in shock before Jentha tore his gaze away, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as she began to lead him away, smiling as she spoke to him, "You won't regret this choice, Peta. For better or worse, we'll make you a soldier. And when we do, you'll thank us, because it'll have kept you alive."

 _Then I'll regret the choice then, won't I?_ Peta bitterly thought, turning towards Max to see he was alive, only now he had a knife straight through his hand and oozing blood, the man cradling his hand as he roared in agony. Turning away, he continued to walk forward, towards a new future. For better or worse.  _I'll regret this choice because the last thing I want is to be alive._

_Or maybe this'll be the one way ticket I need to death._

Only time would tell for Peta'Tasi vas Nedas.

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1706 hours._

_The Arena, Liveship Bakara, Migrant Fleet, Hector System, Scorpius Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina, General Kal'Reegar vas Machina, Lieutenant Colonel Madi'Reegar vas Machina, Captain Reeta'Pel vas Bakara._

If the Migrant Fleet was ever overcrowded, it was at that moment.

Tali wanted to rub her sore eyes, but with a mask in the way, that was pretty much a fruitless thought anyway. Instead she could only sit down, straighten her posture and keep her air of aurthority and power; if anyone saw the husk inside, they might just scream and run for the airlock. And that was no exaggeration.

Tali looked like shit. She felt like shit. The ancestors must have felt how shitty she felt. The people serving under her felt like shit because she felt like shit. At this moment, she was a shit mother. Pretty much everything related to 'Tali'Shepard' was shit at the moment.

The quarian admiral not only suffered from a lack of sleep due to her work load, but with the admirals and the Conclave beating the drums of war with the geth, she was becoming frantic to just delay them. As Chief of the Admiralty Board, the other admirals along with the Conclave had to wait for her consent. Yes, they could appeal to the democratic side and get everyone to vote for war, but they needed the entire Admiralty Board's consent to actually mobilize the forces. So far, Gerrel, Xen and even Shala, to her immense disappointment and shock, had agreed to mobilize. Apparently Koris had agreed at one point, but with Tali suddenly agreeing with his side, he decided to switch sides and fight against assembly of the Flotilla's military assets. But it was a losing battle, for both of them.

They had few political allies in the Conclave, and while Tali did have most of her friends on her side, they were a small minority in a fleet of 17 million; and most of those millions wanted their home back; and all they saw were the promises Gerrel and Xen made them.

It enraged her. Gerrel promised them victory, and Xen showed them the tools of that victory; armaments, armor, prototype weaponry like arc pistols, arc projectors, arc cannons, Adas anti-synthetic rifles, and other types of weaponry. Keelah, they wanted to weaponize the liveships!  _The liveships!_ The audacity of those admirals! They wanted to turn the life source of their people, the very things keeping them alive, into dreadnoughts! It not only violated the Treaty of Farixen, but it promoted the weaponization of their civilian ships! And it wasn't just their liveships! Every ship was to be converted into corvettes, fighters, frigates, cruisers, you name it! Gerrel wanted the whole fleet to become his personal war machine; and Xen wanted to enslave the geth. And Shala was just going along for the ride.

_I have to stop them. I can't let them do this. They don't know it, but I've spoken with the geth! They are open for peace! We attack them now, and we'll be vulnerable when the Reapers turn their attention to us! And they will come for us eventually! Even now the borders of Council Space are getting smaller and smaller as the Reapers press forward...and soon, nowhere will be safe! Not even Rannoch, if we manage to take it at all! This idea is madness! I have to stop them! For the galaxy! For Junior! For Marcus!_

She stopped herself, inwardly sighing as she shifted in her seat, shutting out the headache-inducing noise of the Bakara's Arena. The liveship was very much the sister ship of the Rayya, with literally no changes in its interior and exterior design except for the clans that inhabited it or the amount of hull patches. Just like with all three of the liveships, they all looked the same in overall architecture.  _And they're the only ships left in the Flotilla that are purely quarian in design._

_And they'll all be heavily-armoured war machines soon if I don't put a stop to this. Me and Koris both._

Which is why they were now here, in this room. To settle this argument once and for all.

Traditionally, if a decision was stonewalled by one stubborn chief of the admiralty, and the talks were unable to continue because of that one person, the Conclave invoked the Right of Final Debate, one that the said admiral had to accept. If he or she didn't accept, they were forcibly removed from their position and replaced. If they did, the Admiral would then explain their reasons in the Arena of a chosen liveship, before the Conclave and their people. If this swayed anyone, the talks would continue. If it didn't, and the admiral was outvoted, his or her rule would be overruled and the vote would carry. It was a safeguard that worked for her people well over the years, and stopped political delaying. And right now, she was in the Right of Final Debate. One she, and Koris, had gladly accepted.

Now the room was crowded with quarians of every stripe, and from all over the Fleet. Captains and their commanders, engineers and waste dumpers, mechanics and medical officers, navigators and pilots, marines and generals. Most of her own crew was here, except Igra, who she had wanted to stay behind on the Machina as acting captain to keep things running. She also wanted her looking after Junior; this was no place for a child, especially when yelling would soon ensue.

Every admiral was here, as well. Shala was seated just below her, hands folded in her lap and looking nervous. Koris sat next to Tali of course, arms crossed and looking confident.  _Wish I had his confidence. I'm too tired for such...determination._ Gerrel sat on her left, talking animatedly with Xen, no doubt talking about what they'd do once they won the vote.  _They know they'll win, but I'll do my damnest to make sure they're disappointed._

Tali had stayed awake for entire nights formulating ideas with her subordinates, consulting them for advice on the intricacies of Migrant Fleet politics, and looking for any loophole to exploit, any opening she could use to halt this war in its tracks.  _We cannot lead our people down this path! Its self-destructive, meaningless...but again, how can we deny our people the goal we crave so much? To stand on the homeworld? How can anyone of our people ignore that temptation? I'm having a hard time myself, despite my promise to Legion and its promise to me..._

"This conclave is brought to order!" shouted one quarian above all, and Tali was suddenly brought to look up, her vision fuzzy for a moment as she got her bearings.  _I...just want to sleep...so badly..._ But she couldn't, not while the threat of war with the geth was prominent. She couldn't let her child down, couldn't betray Marcus like that... _He needs me, even if he isn't with me now. I'll find him, but only when this war is averted._  The thought brought a small smile to her face, even as she stood and every other quarian did, the conclave bringing everything to order.  _And Junior will get to meet his father..._

"...and have sustained us for this season. Keelah Se'lai," she heard the conclave member finish, and everyone was seated once more. The quarian member, Tali saw, stood on the podium at the forefront of the Arena, standing where the Chief Admiral would usually stand, "I now bring the Right of Final Debate to its introduction. I ask that the speakers of both sides present their points, beginning with those that represent the offended consensus."

On her left, Gerrel sprung up like an unleashed spring, the quarian coming to stand tall and proud, hands clasped behind his back as he nodded at the conclave member, "Thank you, Speaker Ulum'Shiya vas Bakara. I present my case, before you and the people of the Flotilla as one," he shot a look at Tali, one she promptly ignored as he turned back, the admiral having no doubt that he was grinning smugly behind his mask.  _No, don't think of him that way. He is not a villain; he merely wants what's best for his people. What he thinks is best, however, doesn't necessarily mean it coincides with yours. Remember that, Tali._

"I would like to say just what a monumental moment awaits the quarian people," Gerrel opened, shooting his gaze across the crowd assembled, "This is a troubling time for all of us, but just like the Exile we inhibit, we shall fight through it, together. We have a big decision to make. One that  _will_  change our people for better...or worse," he said that as he met Koris' eyes, shaking his head as he turned back, holding his arms out wide, almost shouting, "We give you the tools for victory! The weapons needed to take our homeworld back! In one swift invasion, we can destroy the geth, and win back what is ours! But, alas, there are others who would decide to hang back and remain in exile," he nodded, letting his arms drop, "That's the choice. Freedom and a land to call ours again, or remain floating around, waiting to fade away. I rest my case." And with that, Gerrel sat back down.

Tali growled inwardly, wanting to claw at her mask.  _Damn it, he's basically dangled our homeworld infront of them and told them take it or remain in the naughty corner. How could anyone resist that, especially our people? That's going to be hard to beat._

"Thank you, Admiral Gerrel," the speaker stated, turning to her, "Admiral Shepard, please rise and state your case."

She did just that, coming to stand, straightening her back and standing just as proud as Gerrel had, showing no weakness in her stance. No sign of her sleepiness.  _When this is over...definitely hitting the bunk. Eight hours of uninterrupted, blissful sleep is what I need. The ultimate medicine._

She came to stand, clearing her throat as she faced the crowd, "I do not pretend that the choice I standby is one met with much discontent. I admit I knew this when I went for the decision. But I'm convinced it is for the best," she held up a hand to silence any objections, speaking with absolute clarity and devotion, "War now is foolish. Yes, there is a great enemy, but they lie around us, not on Rannoch or behind the Perseus Veil. The Reapers are the greater threat here, not the geth."

"With all due respect-" one quarian began, only to be silenced by the speaker.

"You will not be heard until all cases have been made," the speaker declared, and the quarian silenced, allowing Tali to continue, facing the crowd with pure determination in her voice, unwilling to back down.

"While we sit here, bickering and clawing at each other on whether we should reclaim our world or not, a much greater war is waging out there," she pointed to nowhere in particular, but just the general direction of outside, "Out there, worlds are  _burning._ I've read the reports; Khar'Shan, Earth and Palaven have fallen, Irune, Dekunna and Kahje are under siege, and people are dying by the millions. The  _Reapers_ are the real threat here, not the geth," she gulped, sighing as she spoke, "The geth do not want to wipe us out, but the Reapers...their goal is to wipe out  _anything_ remotely organic. This Fleet promised to help the galaxy when the war came, and yet here we are, doing the exact opposite!"

"No, we made a promise to Marcus Shepard," Gerrel interjected, turning to the speaker, "If I may say speaker, I do think Admiral Shepard has allowed personal bias from her husband to cloud her judgment."

"Your objection has been ignored. Interrupt again Gerrel, and you will be expelled," the speaker turned back to Tali, eyes widening, "Is there anything else you would like to add?"

"Yes," she began to conclude, eyes scanning along the crowd, "Do not choose this path, I beg you. All our history, all our knowledge, all our culture...don't throw it away in a war we can't win. Consolidate our forces, our strength, and save it for the Reapers. We cannot beat them alone. And even if we do beat the geth...we will still have the Reapers to contend with. Please, think about that."

"Thank you," the speaker stated, and Tali sat, the conclave member turning to Koris, "Admiral Koris, please rise and state your case."

The man she had once known as a pacifist, cowardly suit-wetter stood, now the man she respected the most out of this Admiralty Board, and her most powerful ally, "Thank you speaker, and may I say, that what Admiral Shepard has said has been completely true, but she did not emphasize enough what this war will do to us," Koris leaned on the railing, eying everyone he could, "If we go down this path, if we choose to send our fleet into Veil, there will be nothing but death, for our side. The geth are superior to us in every way, they think faster and they will do anything to survive! Just like in the Morning War, they will fight back against the thought of their destruction! Please, think of what you're doing! Think of the losses, of the people who's lives will be thrown aside pointlessly!" His words said, he came to sit, and the speaker nodded, quickly turning to the final admiral.

"Admiral Xen, rise and state your case," the speaker ordered.

And then came the woman Tali hated the most; that... _psycho bosh'tet._ If there was anyone who was seriously messed up in the mind, there was Xen. Her obsessions with 're-enslaving' the geth, as she put it, could not be matched. It was practically obsessive compulsive, if a bit worse. Any opportunity to dissect a geth and examine its internal workings was one she'd take full advantage of, and she had even once dissected her childhood toys in an effort to discover how they worked. She had even had the audacity to openly announce to Tali, during her trial a year ago, that she planned to make use out of Rael's death on the Alarei. Something that unbelievably pissed her off. She had never been a fan of Xen...

...and Xen had never been a fan of her.

"I've listened to the three of you speak your cases, especially to Koris and Shepard's attempts to make us consider peace and make us focus on the Reaper War," she shook her head, arms crossing under her breasts, "But I can tell you this is  _not_ a war we'll lose! Do you know why? Because I have given us the tools for victory, as Gerrel has stated. What tools you may ask? What about state of the art weaponry specifically designed to cripple entire geth companies? Geth  _fleets?_  That is right, with the weapons and armaments I have designed with my best scientists, we  _will_ retake the homeworld of our ancestors, and the empire we once owned  _will rise again!_ And this time, the geth will be  _ours_! We will rule them again, as they always  _should have been,_ " she turned to Tali, the quarian aware that she was likely smirking smugly behind that mask of hers, "And when it is all over, with the geth at our side, we will have a much stronger stance in terms of fighting the Reapers. As well as a place to hide our civilians. The facts are there, you only have to open your eyes and see them."

"Thank you, Admiral. You may be seated," the speaker stated, and when Xen calmly sat back down next to Gerrel, the speaker turned to the rest of the crowd, "You have heard their words, their thoughts, their feelings. Now it is up to the people to decide. Choose our future, choose our path, and may the ancestors favor your choices. The vote begins now."

Tali only sat and watched as her people went into their typical social mode; debating and arguing about what they should choose. Tali could only look down at Shala, shocked that she had chosen not to make her own case. The fact that the speaker totally ignored her meant that Shala must have abstained from the vote entirely.  _Too much of a coward to stand with us?_ Tali thought bitterly.

For the next few minutes, the room was just loud noise as her people debated and decided the future of the quarian race. It was hard for her to just sit there, totally helpless in the course of the decision. She wanted to scold herself for not bringing up the idea of peace with the geth, and that she knew it was possible because she had met one...one that talked. But she knew that if she had brought that up, it would only incite anger and she'd likely find herself exiled, or the debate acellerated. At least this gave them something to think about before jumping to conclusions.

 _I'm effectively the chief admiral of the entire Migrant Fleet's military power, and I can only sit and watch the Conclave and our people bicker. I hate feeling this helpless! I wish Marcus was here...he'd put things right. He'd know just what to say to make them think._ She sighed, cradling her hand as she examined the ring on her finger.  _Keelah, I miss you. Where are you? Fighting Reapers no doubt. You never could ignore a fight._ She smiled at that, sniffing as she looked back up, silently waiting, deciding to let her thoughts wonder on her unionmate...soft, comforting thoughts...

After a few minutes, the talks began to finally die down, until there was no noise at all, just the thrum of the liveship's engines reverbrating through the bulkheads. All attention landed on the speaker, who had reassumed her position on the podium, standing as tall and proud as she had before, seemingly uncaring as to whether the vote swayed.  _How can she not? This vote could destroy or save our people...how could one be so indifferent?_

Tali only watched with rapt attention, as did Koris beside her, Gerrel, Xen, Shala, and practically everyone else. Tali felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up, smiling at Kal and Madi as they sat in the podium above her, nodding reassuringly. They had her back. She could trust them to stick by her. With a weak nod, she turned back, wringing her hands subconsciously as her eyes, and everyone else's, landed on the speaker's form, who showed no sign of being fazed by this.

"The vote has been cast. The vote is over, and a decision shall be made," the speaker declared loudly, her voice echoing throughout the Arena as she stood, her omni-tool open before her, "With these words, our people will decide on an invasion of the Perseus Veil, or to give up this venture and fight for the UGC in their fight against the Reapers."

She gulped, feeling her throat go dry.  _This is it...I've either failed or succeeded..._

"Those who voted to fight for the UGC and against the Reapers," the speaker began, "Are 1,292."

Tali felt her jaw drop, followed by her heart sinking.  _No..._

Koris slumped back, taken back by pure frustration as he held his visor, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. A hand found her shoulder again, but she ignored it, not wanting reassurance, for there was none that could save their race.  _Only one thousand quarians had any common sense...but why am I surprised? How could I be surprised?_

No, it wasn't out of surprise. No, she had failed the person she loved the most.  _I failed you Marcus. Legion...I'm so sorry, I tried to make peace possible but they wouldn't...listen...I'm so, so sorry...Keelah, no...please let this be a nightmare..._

Even as the speaker spoke, Tali shut out the words, not wanting to hear them; she already knew which way the vote swayed. It was obvious to everyone in the room; Gerrel looked triumphant, Xen looked smug, Shala sagged in body posture, shaking her head and cheers were heard all over the room.  _They cheer for our deaths...idiots, morons...!_

"Those who voted to retake the Perseus Veil and the homeworld," the speaker finished, "16,998,708."  _The majority of the quarian race. Higher than three quarters...more like four fifths, five sixths, six sevenths..._

The speaker nodded, turning to the crowd, "The decision has been made. As of now, the Conclave will declare a state of active war with the geth. In the next few days, preparations for mobilization of all military resources will be made, and all will listen to Admiral Gerrel's and Xen's suggestions. Manufacturing will increase-"

"No need for that," Xen spoke up, "All prototype weapons have been mass-produced already. They need only be deployed and outfitted to our ships and marines."

The speaker nodded, "Then so be it. The ancestors will be proud, for we shall retake our homeworld, and teach the geth a lesson that began 300 centuries ago. And then," she turned to Tali, "shall we join the UGC, and fight against the Reapers."

 _By then, it'll be too late. We'll be sending piles of molten scraps and dead bodies. The quarian race will not survive this war._ And as the room cheered, Tali could only bite back sobs. Now, it was only a matter of choosing a side.

The answer was obvious. She had already chosen a side, they day she was born.

And that only made her weep harder.  _Marcus, save me...save my people..._

_...save them from themselves..._

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1425 hours._

_Administrator's Office, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War._

_Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor, Administrator Lorik Qu'in, Scientist Brynn Cole._

"What do you mean you want us to leave?" Jacob asked, incredulous as he met the turian's eyes, "We can't do that, and you know it! I've already told you why I'm here, so why are you suddenly having a change of heart?"

"If you know that I know why you're here then we shouldn't even be having this conversation!" Lorik retorted from his position behind his desk, ignoring the terminal on his desk as if it were some kind of pest, "You're a danger to the people in this port and I want you gone! I can't have fugitives endangering the security of this port, its that simple."

Jacob snorted, "If it were that simple, you'd have kicked us out by now. You've got ERCS guards, why not get them to do it? Or is it because you can't stand the thought of casting us out and leaving us to  _die_? You know who wants us dead the most, and sending us out there will  _kill us_. There must be someway to fix this."

"There isn't, I'm sorry," Lorik sighed, shaking his head as he looked out the window, noting that the blizzard outside had picked up significantly. He turned back to Jacob, the turian's hands clasping into his lap, "Now please leave; don't make this any harder than it already is. I don't want to use force, but I will if you won't leave. This people rely on me to protect them, and every moment you spend here is another moment they are in danger!"

"Please," Brynn spoke from the side, licking her lips as she came to lean over the desk alongside Jacob, squeezing his hand assuringly, "We'll do anything. Jacob's a skilled biotic and soldier; he could help with security. And me and the other scientists could really pull our weight. We'll make our presence...tolerable."

"'Tolerable?'" Lorik questioned, shaking his head as his mandibles twitched, "I'm throwing you out because Cerberus could send a fleet here to take this port just to kill you, not because you're intolerable. Those human racist scum-suckers will do anything to get their hands on you, and if that means killing civilians? No problem."

"I know!" Jacob growled, slamming his hand into the table, "Because I used to work for them! Hell, I even spoke to the Illusive Man  _himself_ , for Christ's sake! I know what they're like! I know they'll every single person in this fucking port if they know we're here, but that's why Cole is asking you to let me take care of security. We not only get to stay, but I'll be able to give your men the know-how on how to kill Cerberus. I know how they think, and that'll be invaluable, yes?"

"Yes, but those aren't 'my men', they're ERCS. Which means if any of them die, that's on me as their client, not them," he growled, sighing as he leaned back, "And I don't care. There's not a single thing that could convince me to let you stay any longer than you already have. Cerberus will be breathing down my neck by the time I'm done arguing with you, so I'm going to kindly ask you to leave one more time.  _Now._ "

"I served with Commander Shepard," Jacob spat, "If anyone can protect this port from Cerberus, it's me."

The turian looked flabbergasted, his calm expression ruined by sudden clarity as he met the human's eyes, leaning forward, "Wait, you served with who?"

"Commander Shepard. You know, big time war hero," Jacob elaborated, but Lorik held up a hand, cutting him off.

"Yes, of course I know. I helped the man when he came here three years ago during the Eden Prime War. Came to stop Benezia. I wasn't Administrator then, just the manager of Synthetic Insights and the victim of that time's administrator," Lorik explained, smiling, "And you say you're one of his crew? I haven't seen you before, but I'm willing to believe you."

Jacob gulped.  _Wait, he was here three years ago during that whole Benezia thing at Peak 15? Good thing he can't recognize me._ Jacob had been there all those years ago, before he met Shepard of course. He had served Cerberus then, and had been sent to spy on Shepard, but had failed, so he had returned empty handed. The next time he met the man, it was after he had woken up from a two-year long death.  _But if Lorik knows Shepard, then that could be helpful._

Jacob gulped, about to speak again, but Brynn got there first, speaking up with a shaky voice, hand letting go of his, "Wait...does that mean you'll let us stay?"

Lorik looked at her, carefully regarding her, looking for any crack in her ficade. Finally, he let the air blow out through his nostrils as he heavily sighed, nodding, "Yes, very well; I couldn't very well expel one of the men who served with Commander Shepard. You can stay."

Jacob let out a loud sigh of relief as he stayed braced against the desk, nodding as he met the turian's eyes, "Thank you, Administrator Qu'in. Brynn was correct in saying we'll pull our weight. You won't regret letting us stay."

"I just hope you keep your promise in training the men outside," Lorik stated, raising an eyebrow.

"I will," Jacob stated, "A matter of fact, I'll begin right now. Who's the head of the garrison here?"

"Captain Maeko Matsuo," Lorik declared, "You'll find her at the Main Dock outside. She's quite the hardass, so don't try pulling jokes with her. She'll get you acquainted with the troops. As for you, Miss Cole..."

"No need," Brynn immediately stated, smiling, "I need to get over and inform the others and get set up in the Hotel. Then I'll see what work I can find."

Lorik scoffed, "There'll be plenty to go around, that's for sure. The war has trade in total flux, and everyone is afraid that the Reapers will eventually turn their attention to us. There'll be work galore, especially since trade has completely halted due to the Reapers cutting off trade routes."

Brynn nodded, "Then I'll have no trouble then."

Lorik smiled, nodding, "That is correct. Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I have alot of work to do and I'm sure, despite the war, that we'll have alot of new arrivals soon, and with them comes alot of paperwork. I hate being the administrator sometimes," he stopped himself as he picked up a datapad, reading its contents, and shaking his head as he looked at them again, still smiling, "Actually, no I don't. I hate being administrator  _all the time_."

Jacob chuckled slightly as he took Brynn's hand and walked towards the entrance, "Thank you again, Qu'in," and with that, they tapped the holographic interface and moved through the door, hand in hand, continuing towards the door that would open into the port.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would, if I'm honest," Jacob admitted, kissing her on the cheek, "You could say it went fantastic. It feels like everyone has seen Shepard now; such a small galaxy. I guess it was lucky Lorik knew him, or that trump card probably wouldn't have worked."

Brynn laughed, lying her head on his shoulder, "Good to see you using words instead of fists to solve something for once."

Jacob snorted, "I don't use my fists! Are you calling me a brute?"

"Certainly am," Brynn giggled, "Besides, its a nice change, regardless. Words help too, you know."

"Yeah," he admitted, shaking his head, "Shepard definitely did rub off on me," just before they reached the door, he let his hand drift down her belly, letting it linger there, smiling, "And soon, I'll have some someone with me rubbing off on them."

His relationship with Brynn had been a steady fling that quickly grew. The united need to survive brought them together, a mutual hatred of Cerberus bonded them, and now they were one; in love, not quite married, but on the road there. And not only two days ago, he had discovered, along with the rest of the scientists in the group, that she was pregnant with his child. Things just got better for the couple.

But the idea of bringing up a child in the middle of a war and while being chased by Cerberus did fit well, and he was hoping Noveria would be a more permanent option; a place Cerberus wouldn't think to look. But if what Lorik said was right, and the Reapers were quickly spreading towards Noveria, then they might need to evacuate faster than he thought.  _But where would we go? The Citadel? The Illusive Man will know that's the best option for us. He'll know we're there before we're even in the Serpent Nebula._

But they wouldn't let that stop them. It had been a long time since Jacob had felt this complete, and the first time he had been in a relationship since Miranda. But that had been a mere fling; what he felt with Brynn...it felt real. Tangible. Believable. And most of all, lasting.

"He won't be born for months, you know that right?" Brynn clarified, looking up at him with curiosity in her eyes.

As they moved through the door out and into the main port, he responded, "Of course I do. And for the rec-"

The port shook as Jacob and Brynn froze to the spot, the sound of a huge explosion echoing throughout Hanshan. Suddenly, people were screaming and running as ERCS guards raced to investigate, an evacuation siren sounding throughout the port. Jacob could only widen his eyes as he reached for his carnifex, only to remember it wasn't there, having been confiscated earlier. He cursed, turning to Brynn, "Its Cerberus, they must have found us. I need you to get inside with Qu'in and stay safe. I'm going to find the others and get them over here."

"But you're unarmed!" Brynn cried out, "How will you-"

He kissed her on the lips, before pulling back and stroking her cheek, "I'll find a weapon. You just get to safety and stay there. If Cerberus comes, you run and hide again. I'll find you and then I'll help fight off Cerberus. Now go.  _Now_." Not even turning to see if Brynn had done what he said, he immediately raced up the flight of stairs on his immediate right, moving up to a confused ERCS salarian, who gripped his avenger assault rifle with terror.

He moved up to him, the soldier shoving the barrel of the weapon into Jacob's chest, "Stay back! I'll shoot!"

"Hey, I'm a friendly!" he shouted back, holding out his hand, "Now if you're not going to use that, give it to someone who's going to put it to some use."

"Sure. Yeah. Whatever," the salarian guard tossed the rifle into the man's hands and quickly sprinted off in the direction of the main dock. Jacob only shook his head as he checked the thermal clip capacity. Seeing it was fully loaded, he quickly shouldered the weapon and moved off in the direction of the explosion; from the sounds of it, it came from the Northeast Entrance.

He didn't know how Cerberus found them, but he wasn't about to let them kill innocents to get to him.

This time, he was going to bite back.

**{Loading...}**

_June 18, 2186_

_1755 hours._

_Main Reception, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

He watched the skycars lazily drift by as he stood there, the tiny little forms of civilians and C-Sec and military alike moving about on the Presidium below, its pristine white background undisturbed and well kept; peaceful looking, tranquil even. It was a perfect picture of heaven; a white dot in a sea of red.

Marcus looked down upon it and regarded it with a thoughtful gaze, looking for any kind of distraction. The glass muffled the sounds from around the hospital, so all he saw could not be heard, not a peep of it. It was a good kind of solace; one he relished and enjoyed. He stood there with his cap removed and tucked under one arm, letting his mind be completely devoid of life as he lay down all his thoughts and burdens and took time to just...soak it all in.  _The serenity. The peace. All they see is this, and all I see is war...hopeless war. No wonder they're all so ignorant. So oblivious. They haven't experienced what's out there. They're shielded from it._

The only sound invading his thoughts was that coming from behind him; the chatter of patients and psychologists and doctors and nurses, the cries of wounded, the dribble of news reports flowing from the vidscreens lining the walls; fearmongering crap.

Taking a moment, he finally managed to recollect this thoughts, and thought about the present. He had recently talked with Kaidan again, who apparently still hadn't come to a decision on becoming a Spectre. Marcus could understand that; he only became one because necessity called for it; he needed to stop Saren, and he needed to become a spectre to do it. He didn't do it because he wanted the job; too much Council ass-kissing and paperwork. It was something Kaidan had confided in him, but Marcus had ultimately decided to encourage him to accept. After all, the galaxy needed more spectres. Now more than ever.

He had spoken with Thane as well, not that much could be said on that end. The drell assassin was bordering on the lines of death, and he knew it, and no matter how helpless he felt, he knew nothing could be done to save him. He just hoped the man met a peaceful one, and not one at the hands of the Reapers. A death that wasn't from a bullet wound or battlefield injury...just death by itself. If there was a death he'd choose...it would be of old age. With Tali.  _That'll be the day..._

He turned to the left, glancing at Thane's spot, and smiled alittle. There he was, talking with his son, chatting about lord knows what. But they were talking, and that was something for Thane. Thane and Kolyat had always been on tense terms ever since Marcus helped them reunite, but they were slowly mending their relationship, and it seemed all past tensions had been let free. Nothing to worry about. As for Kolyat's newest girlfriend, Lia, she was off working; the amount of wounded coming in was getting bigger almost every day, and the poor quarian found no shortage of work.

His thoughts were violently taken away when a familiar, accented voice entered his ear, "May I stand with you, Captain?"

Marcus turned towards the prothean standing behind him, Javik's hands clasped behind his back and wearing his usual combat armor. Despite his time with the ancient warrior, Marcus was still getting used to seeing Javik; he was still so alien, so out of the norm. He'd seen all the aliens of the galaxy, and then Javik just appears, and everything changes. And by the looks everyone gaze, and he meant  _everyone,_ even Thane and Kolyat, even they were in awe...or disgust, he couldn't tell which to be honest.

He nodded, "Of course. Just enjoying the view...I guess."

Javik made no move to respond, simply staring out below as well, remaining ever silent as he joined Marcus in his musing.

Suddenly, he spoke, "I had a look around the Citadel."

Marcus nodded, turning to him, "Look any different from the Citadel in your cycle?"

Javik's face took on a more grim look as he regarded the human, and he could have sworn he saw sadness for a moment, "I never got to see the Citadel in my cycle. It had fallen long before I was born."

Marcus' face twisted into the same grim expression that the prothean's gave, and he gulped as his throat felt suddenly very dry, "I'm...sorry, Javik. I didn't mean-"

"What does it matter?" Javik retorted, cutting him off as he nodded at the Presidium, "How can I mourn something I never saw? What is left of my people's mark on this place is gone, replaced by yours. As is the Inusannon's, and all the races before them. All gone, but yours remains. I must say..." the prothean gulped, seemingly in awe for a split second, "The legends my people spoke of this place...they were not legends. This is truly a place worthy of galactic leadership. A galactic fortress."

 _A Reaper designed death trap who can no longer spring._ Marcus agreed, leaning his forehead against the glass, "It truly is a massive place. When I first saw it three years ago...I was blown away, to be honest. Hadn't seen anything quite as big since Jump Zero...that's an Alliance Space Station. Or was."

"It no longer exists?" Javik asked, curious.

"It was in orbit of Earth when the Reapers invaded," Marcus stated, shaking his head as he slowly sighed, "So no."

Javik, again, took no notice of his answer and looked back through the glass nodding, "Looking at this Citadel...it reminded me of one thing."

He slowly turned to face the prothean, his eyes unblinkingly gazing into Javik's, "And what would that be?"

"That these people are but insects," the warrior coldly replied, "And it is the duty of soldiers to protect them. It is  _our_ duty. The insects believe they are safe, and that's because soldiers make them feel safe. What your 'Council' needs to do is to remove the soldiers, take away the security...let them know what it is really like."

Marcus rubbed his temples, sighing as he shook his head, "If you do that, you invite anarchy. That's not good for public order. Tends to incite violence, revolution...we really don't need that in a damn war of survival."

Javik shrugged, "If anarchy is what you get from lack of security, then it is the fault of the insects for not learning the discipline to remain calm. In the Empire, security wasn't provided, we built it for ourselves. There were no insects...only soldiers. Every scientist, every civilian, every politician...they wielded the knowledge of how to kill and how to survive. There was no weaklings. In the Empire, security was absolute because  _we_ were absolute."

Marcus shook his head, turning away, "We don't tend to arm our civilians. Makes us violent. That's the last thing we want."

"You want peace," Javik sighed, arms folding across his armoured chest, "Another delusion you must cast aside. War is a constant of nature; it is inhabited in every species, even the most senile, the most weak. It is an inherit trait. Peace is a solution to that nature, a way to keep it chained...and when that solution fails, we follow it with more war. It is a circular chain, one the Empire refused to uphold...the Empire embraced war, made it its mantra, made it our soul. And it preserved us. Gave us  _liberty._ "

"Yeah, well the Empire is  _gone_ ," Marcus growled, not even turning to the prothean, "And your 'liberty' and 'absolute security' and embracement of war didn't save you from the Reapers."

"No it did not," Javik calmly replied, "But it will only make you fall faster."

"That's where you're wrong," Marcus stated, coming within inches of the man's face as he pointed out the glass, "You see, if it hadn't been for me, we wouldn't even be on the Citadel. That's one thing we did better than the protheans; we managed to keep the Citadel. We've still got the mass relays, communication, and I bet we've killed more Reapers so far than in the past six cycles combined. Maybe even more. We've got many species willing to unite and fight as one, and when they do, we will destroy the Reapers. We've got a head start on the Crucible, and we've got assets the protheans never had. So no," he concluded, breathing almost ragged from his passionate speech, "We will  _win_ faster."

Javik seemed to freeze for a second, regarding the captain, before a small smile creased his mouth, "Excellent." He then turned to look through the window once more, like nothing had happened.

Marcus just frowned, confused and baffled by the prothean's attitude, "What?"

"Your reaction was excellent," Javik stated, "I was expecting guilt, moral dilemma, a need to fight politely; you did not. You responded as a warrior should: to gain victory by any means possible, no matter the collateral damage, and you have the will to fight dirty."

Marcus rolled his eyes, jamming a finger into the prothean's chest, "Who said I'd accept collateral damage? Fighting dirty will be necessary to win this war, I'll admit, but collateral damage is unacceptable, accidental or otherwise. We  _do not_ sacrifice innocent lives for the sake of the mission, Javik."

Javik snorted, shaking his head, "Moral weakness. If you are not willing to sacrifice all to defeat the enemy, then the war is lost. The Reapers do not possess your worries. They do not have civilians or worlds to protect. Only their will to conquer, destroy and mutilate keeps them going, and that is enough. If you do not meet them tactic to tactic, then you will falter, wither and die."

"No, if we do, we'll lose everything we stand for," Marcus snapped, shaking his head, "But being a prothean, I don't expect you to understand how a galaxy works when there is morals in the equation. We don't live under a dictatorship Javik; we are free to make choices, including military choices, and if I think civilian deaths are unnecessary and out of line, then they are. You do not call the shots."

"Maybe I should," Javik snapped back, eyes glowing with fury as he moved forward and jabbed his own finger into the man's chest, "Because it seems this galaxy's will is pathetic. If you are not willing to make the hard decisions, then you have no right to survive. Toss away your morals, your interests, loved ones and everything you stand for and become the soldier. They will only weigh you down."

 _...loved ones..._ For some reason, that sent him over the edge, the spectre grabbing the prothean by the neck, lifting him up and slamming his back against the glass, secretly glad it didn't crack, " _How dare you_ assume you can tell me what to do and how to fight my war!  _Their_ war! Your people had their chance! You had your chance to fight it your way, and now its our turn. If you don't like how we fight, then you can crawl back to Eden Prime and hide, but if you're going to follow me, you better understand that you serve  _under_  me, not  _with_ me," he released his tension on Javik's neck, letting go of him as he backed away, greatly aware that people all around were watching. He fixed his gaze with the prothean's once more, sighing, but a tinge of fire still present in his eyes, "Get with the program, Javik. You are not a commander anymore. You're the commanded. Follow my orders, or stay the fuck off my ship, but do not question me again. Are we understood?"

"You are making a mistake," Javik persisted, but after a second, he nodded, showing no sign of noticing the red hold marks that wrapped around the front of his neck, "But you have made yourself clear. Fight your war the way you wish to fight it, and I will follow it. But know that I do it because you order me to, not because I agree with it. War is won by tossing away the rules, not keeping them."

Marcus shook his head, not even bothering to respond as he moved back over to the window, refusing to look at the prothean, "Just leave, Javik."

All he heard was the sounds of Javik's footsteps as he walked away as he concentrated once again on watching the skycars fly by. But despite his current irritation at Javik's constant preaching, he knew the prothean was speaking a wiff of truth.

_I can't pretend that winning this war can be done by playing by the rules. We fight or we die. I said it myself in that very room on Earth a couple of weeks ago. How can I continue to be ignorant of such things?_

But there was one thing that had set him off...

_...loved ones..._

Marcus knew that  _all_ the rules needed to go to win, which meant the need to ignore the ones he loved. And there was one person he loved more than anything in this galaxy, and could he really ignore her? Could he...sacrifice her when the time came?

Marcus was scared. Because he knew the answer.

It was becoming more and more like the one he didn't want.

**"So the first worst day of the war? I'm sure you don't mean...Tuchanka, do you?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Tuchanka? There was a day before that. On Noveria..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yes, I've been gone a while. But alot of things have been going on, and I've been busy, being on holidays and all.** _

_**Next chapter might be a long while; I'll be working on Chapter 1 for my new Dragon Age fanfic I began recently, and playing a bit of Batman: Arkham City. So yeah...that, and a few of my friends want to do some nerf wars, so that's another two days gone. Hey, don't judge me!** _

_**Also, I might be changing my author name to DarkRequiem7. Actually, not might, I will be. So just be prepared for when you see the author name become 'DarkRequiem7'.** _

_**So, next up is the two-parter Noveria, and then following will/might be another interim, followed by a two-parter Tuchanka. After that...well, I think I've told you enough. Hahaha.** _

_**And yes, Peta is back! What, you thought I was done with him? Oh no, I'm not quite done with him. He'll have a major role in this story, especially in the Quarian-Geth arc.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	24. Ice Cold Change, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard takes a fleet and a portion of the UGC's ground forces to cast out the Cerberus army attacking Port Hanshan. Jacob tries to help him extract the defecting scientists safely.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:**

**ICE COLD CHANGE PART ONE**

_June 18, 2186_

_2205 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Trenalan, Magna System, Zion Nebula._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Primarch Adrien Victus._

"Noveria, you say?" Victus replied, leaning inquisitively against the war table as he turned his whole body to face Marcus, "You're telling me an entire Cerberus fleet is attacking Noveria? What for? Noveria has no strategic value, and its too close to Reaper territory to last long. Spirits, the Council warned them to evacuate a few hours ago. There's no reason Cerberus would want that area...unless they see a potential threat."

Marcus nodded, hitting a button on the side of the terminal to bring up a hologram of Noveria, "Exactly, Primarch. From what I can see-"

"I was woken at this ungodly hour to look at planets?" he heard Garrus quip from uptop, the turian yawning as he walked down to join them, "I do believe that's sacrilege."

"Continuing," Marcus cut off, ignoring the turian's remarks, "From what I can see, Cerberus is planning to take Noveria with massive force with no endgame reward. They've assigned an entire fleet, so I predict they'll have at least a division backing them. They'll take Port Hanshan, and from there, they'll have full control of the planet's orbital defenses and trade, and taking the rest will be piecemeal. But like you said, it makes no sense why the Illusive Man would want Noveria. Its cold, holds no potential value, and would only be good as an airbase, but even then, they have carriers to do that and they're far more effective."

Before anyone could say another word, Wrex's voice boomed as he walked down the steps into the room, Grunt and his second-in-command following in behind, "So we must assume they aren't here with the intent of keeping Noveria. They're here for a target, a high-priority one, if they've brought a whole fleet and have thrown espionage out the window."

Grunt nodded, bracing against the table, "So the question is, what's the target?"

"That would be a simple matter of hacking into Noveria's computer mainframe and simply looking for any arrivals," EDI declared, her body coming to stand next to Marcus, hands clasped behind her back in their usual manner, "Something Specialist Traynor can assist me with."

"I'll try my best," Samantha stated, coming to stand just to EDI's left, and leaning over the table with a shy look on her face, "Although I don't know what I can do that EDI can't in ten seconds."

"Don't sell yourself short, Traynor," Marcus ordered, turning to everyone else, watching the steady flow of his crew enter the room. Deciding everyone was here, he turned to Grunt, nodding as he motioned to the depicted planet before them, "And you are right, Grunt. Just who is on Noveria that has forced Cerberus to send a fleet to acquire them?"

"I honestly don't see why this is a problem," Victus spoke, drawing everyone's attention, "Our focus should be on the Reapers. Cerberus is a second priority, and I do believe Professor Solus is working on the genophage cure. The less time he has on it, the more time its going to take to get krogan troops on Palaven."

"Incorrect assumption. Underestimate my abilities. Not the point however," Mordin animatedly replied directly, crossing his arms, "Cerberus serve the Reapers. Don't know it, but they do it. Show all signs. Cerberus attempted to take Eden Prime; was within Reaper territory, tried to take it anyway, shows lack of foresight, or potentially a work side-by-side MO. More likely. Illusive Man indoctrinated. Cerberus indoctrinated. Working for Reapers. All fits. Makes sense. Reapers top priority, makes Cerberus top priority."

"We have no idea what they're after, Primarch," Marcus replied, nodding to Mordin in thanks, "Hell, I'm not going to pretend to understand the Illusive Man fully. Maybe he is down there to occupy Noveria, just like he tried with Eden Prime. Or maybe he isn't, and he's there for a reason. A target. Whatever is, it earned Noveria fleet of Cerberus warships. The Illusive Man doesn't dispense resources so casually; if they've got a fleet, that target means alot to them, which means Cerberus can't be allowed to have it."

Victus nodded, "That makes sense. But what if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, as you humans put it? What if this is all for nothing?"

Marcus shrugged, "They're here for one of two reasons, Victus; take Noveria, or take what's on it. None of them ends well for us. Sure, we lose Noveria, its just another planet fallen to the Reapers. But what about the people on it? Not only are they innocent, but if Cerberus capture them, they'll have more troops to add to their forces. Is that we want? To unintentionally strengthen them? Depriving TIM of his troops is essential to beating him. There is only so many pro-human, racist scumbags in this galaxy Primarch, and I bet you most of his troops weren't even Cerberus; probably just some poor, innocent civilian who got captured, indoctrinated, implanted and told to fight for Cerberus and did so because the Reapers told him or her to do so. If we let them take Noveria, then we've empowered them further. If we let them acquire their target, then whatever it is will mean hell for us. The Reapers are bad enough, but I don't want Cerberus running around with a potentially dangerous asset. No, Noveria  _is_ a top priority. You, as a general, should know this."

Victus nodded, turning to the hologram, "You make an excellent point. And considering that, Noveria will be a top priority. But what do we do about it? Its like you said, we don't even know what they're attempting to do."

"Actually, we do now," Samantha almost shouted. She stopped for a second, looking up sheepishly and smiling meekly, scratching her neck, "Ahhhh...sorry. But...EDI's finished her analysis."

"Wait, how did you do that?" Keeling asked, uncrossing her arms, "Cerberus would have destroyed any comm buoys in that system."

"Some packets of data are stored in quantum data banks," EDI replied, "They were designed to be totally unhackable due to the data used to store them. However, that changed when Cerberus invented the quantum entanglement communicator. Using the quantum data in the Normandy's communicator, I was able to hack into the data bank and access the information. And quantum entanglement cannot be hacked or blocked."

"That's interesting and all," James piped up, "But what did you find?"

"What Cerberus is looking for," Samantha stated, and with a flick of a few buttons on her omni-tool, Noveria disappeared and a list of 37 names appeared on the list, all with arrival numbers next to them.

"What's so special about them?" Grunt asked, confused.

"To the ordinary eye, these names seem...ordinary," Samantha stated, "But those names, and their credentials, are falsified. They smuggled themselves in, likely because they're fugitives..."

"...from Cerberus?" Kasumi answered.

"From Cerberus," the comms specialist confirmed, typing a few more buttons on her omni-tool, "I cross-referenced all the data to find their real names, and...who they used to work for. You won't believe what we found."

"They all worked for Cerberus at one point or another," Kelly finished.

"What would Cerberus want with them then?" Keeling asked. Suddenly, the N7 had an epiphany, and she looked to Marcus, meeting his eyes, "Unless..."

"They defected," Marcus concluded, turning to Samantha, "Like Kelly, Gardner and half of my crew did."

"Exactly," Samantha stated, "But there is something else. They aren't just ordinary Cerberus operatives, they were scientists. And alot of them were some of the Illusive Man's best." Suddenly, the names changed, becoming their real ones. And as Marcus read through them, he recognized one he hated.

"Gavin Archer," Marcus growled, gripping the table, "That piece of shit defected, did he? Guess TIM must have decided to use him as a guinea pig instead."

"I'm sorry?" Samantha asked, confused.

"A year ago, when we were still working  _with_ Cerberus. You know, before TIM was indoctrinated," Garrus began to explain, "He sent us to Aite to deal with this AI experiment that went wrong. He tried to create a super AI to use to control the geth, but it backfired. Project: Overlord, it was called. Anyway, we learnt that the lead scientist, Gavin Archer, had been using his own brother as a neural link. His brother  _was_ the AI. The details of that are...pretty gruesome."

"That's fucked up," James added, looking horrified as he slowly backed away a bit, "Like, seriously messed up."

"And it seems Archer himself as decided to run for it," Marcus stated in disgust, "Won't get any sympathy from me. I don't recognize the rest of these...names...though..." as he finished, his eyes were at the top, and he saw who it was.

"What?" Javik asked.

"Jacob Taylor," Samantha read out loud, turning to him, "Someone you know?"

"Someone we know? Spirits, the guy used to be a part of our squad a year ago," Garrus exclaimed, waggling his eyebrows at Kasumi, "And at the adoration of a particular thief."

"And still is," Kasumi retorted, sticking her tongue out, smiling wickedly.

"He must have seen people who needed help and decided to protect them," Marcus felt a smile grow at that, shaking his head, "This galaxy is getting smaller, and Jacob is still the man I remember. He'll have known Cerberus was onto him though; he'd have kept them safe. But there can only be one reason Cerberus would want to kill them. They weren't just defecting, they're going to try and join the Alliance."

"They could be valuable assets," Keeling added, motioning to the names, "Ex-Cerberus scientists would be invaluable to the UGC. Any information they have on Cerberus could seriously cripple their infrastructure and give us an edge in predicting their movements and get an accurate assessment on their military strength."

"Which is exactly why Cerberus would want them captured or dead. Now we know why they're there, now we need to figure out how to get there and acquire those scientists," Marcus declared, looking up, "Any suggestions?"

Javik came forward, bringing up the hologram of Noveria once more and pointing to the simulated Cerberus fleet in orbit, "We won't be able to launch any rescue mission until that fleet is dealt with. We must think about dealing with them first."

Marcus nodded, "All we'd need to do is punch a hole in any blockade they've got set up. We can't spare much, so we must find a solution that doesn't involve taking on any of the more heavily-armoured capital ships. No engaging the dreadnought, carrier or battleships. Heavy cruisers if necessary, light cruisers possibly, and everything below that is fire at will. But I don't think the Normandy will be enough."

"And Cerberus will have learnt from Eden Prime," Liara pointed out, "So a diversion is out of the question."

"So we need ships," Marcus declared, "Just enough to break through the line, get to Noveria. We've got the Normandy's thanix cannon, but that'll only have enough energy for a single shot. It'll cripple a few ships, but not enough. A few more need to go; a few frigates, maybe some destroyers. Some of the lighter ships."

"We don't have much," Victus bluntly stated, "I've already made it clear I won't be committing any of my warships. Not until the turian-krogan alliance is set in stone."

"What do we have?" Marcus asked, "Which of the UGC races have naval capability?"

"Pretty much every single one," the turian leader replied, switching the hologram to one listing the military strength of all the UGC races, "The Systems Alliance has the First Fleet, Third Fleet, Fifth Fleet, Sixth Fleet, Seventh Fleet and small remainders of the Eighth. That's all the naval strength they have left, as I'm sure you know they lost the Second and Fourth Fleet when Arcturus and Earth fell."

"I was there. I'm well accompanied with it. What else?" Marcus asked, pushing the topic to something less gruesome. Last thing he wanted to do was remember the state Earth was in.  _I sure hope Anderson is alright..._

Victus nodded, "Well, despite the situation with Kahje and Dekunna, the elcor and hanar have pulled back most of their fleets and they remain largely intact. The Primacy Holy, Blessed, Enkindler, Home, Truth, Solace, Fortitude and Piety Fleets are ready to be used, as are the Dekunnan Judgment, Retribution, Redemption, United, Nought and Devastator, and the remnants of the Claw, Elegance and Allegiance fleets. The Hegemony has some naval capability, but not much, so using them is not recommended."

"Good. That's...good. Good," Marcus declared, regarding the numbers before him. Finally, he reached a decision, "Have the hanar send a battlegroup; a few destroyers, possibly, from their Truth Fleet, a few frigates from the Fortitude fleet."

"If we want to smash that blockade, we're going to need better firepower than that," Garrus stated, "No offense to the hanar and elcor, but you humans know how to build warships. Those Cerberus ships, spirits, just the dreadnought and those battleships, will completely smash the elcor and hanar ships. What you need are a couple of volus fleet bombers."

"Volus bombers?" James asked, flabbergasted, whistling as he did, giving Garrus a weird look, "Scars, you certainly know how to pick 'em."

"The volus won't commit until the turians do," Victus restated, "You know that, Shepard."

Marcus shrugged, waving a hand at him, "The Protectorate answers directly to the Hierarchy, yes? And you're the Primarch! Its not like we're asking for them to send the damn Kwunu! We just need bombers; two of them will do!"

Many would wander what the big deal about volus bombers was about, but that's because they didn't understand that, second only to thanix technology, volus bombers were top of the line technology because they had weaponry that only one faction had, being the geth. And that was plasma. Able to decimate kinetic barriers and completely disintegrate the hulls of ships, plasma was a lethal weapon indeed, especially if in the wrong hands.

So far however, the cost to mass-produce and harness the energy needed to build plasma weapons en masse was astronomical, and so far the turians had donated most of those resources to the volus for their bombing fleet. There was a total of 32 volus plasma bombers in existence, all of them outfitted with the Type-1 Directed Energy Ship-to-ship, orbit-to-surface launch systems. When fired, that plasma would tear ships apart like they were wet toilet paper. Not quite a thanix cannon, and it took quite a bit of punishment still to put a dreadnought or carrier down, but it did the job. And a couple of those bombers would absolutely devastate a Cerberus fleet. Punch more than a hole.

_They'd tear that fleet apart if allowed to. And just imagine...all 32 of those bombers will be at the UGC's command once the genophage is cured. All to be used against the Reapers. I just wonder how effective they can be._

Victus sighed, rubbing his temples. With a final exertion of breath, he stood tall and rigid, like a proper stoic turian, and nodded, "Fine, I'll get in touch with the volus leader. He won't reject the word of a Primarch."

"Excellent," he turned to Garrus, grinning, "I'll inform Hackett and ask him to ask the hanar and elcor to send the ships I wanted. That's that sorted," he turned back to the table, exhaling, "Now, once we've smashed the blockade and made planetfall, we need a ground force. My squad isn't going to cut it against an entire Cerberus division, so we'll reinforcement."

Grunt nodded, pounding his chest, "Aralakh Company will stand by you, battlemaster. We'll crush those fleshies in their armor."

"Good to see you're eager, Grunt," Marcus chuckled, turning back to Samantha, "Send a message to Zaeed, Sayn and Gyrll. Tell them that I want at least two platoons from their respective organizations," he sighed, "But a krogan company and six platoons of mercenaries still won't cut it. What else do we have? Batarians are exhausted in manpower, I can't ask the elcor and hanar to spare anything else, so who else?"

The room was silent for a moment, and then James spoke up.

"What about the rachni?"

Marcus shook his head, "The queen hasn't had time to breed. We can't count on the rachni."

"While that is true, the queen was not the only survivor of Operation: Quarantine," EDI informed them, "To the queen's surprise, there were numerous rachni on the planet that had managed to escape the Reaper's huskification process and were out of the nuclear bomb's range. Mostly standard soldiers, but a few brood warriors managed to survive as well, and a reported two hundred workers."

"How many survived?" Marcus asked, eyes widening.

"One second," the AI responded, eyes flicking back and forth, as if reading information they couldn't see. Finally, she looked back up, eyes ceasing their rapid movement, "Around four dozen soldiers, eight brood warriors."

"Holy shit!" James exclaimed, "That's more than a few! I think we just got  _very_ lucky!"

Marcus grinned in the marine's direction, "Then it's settled. I'll ask Hackett to pass the message onto the queen to send at least two dozen soldiers, and two brood warriors. We might need a few dozen workers as well, so I'll ask for them as well."

Garrus nodded in appreciation, "Overall, we've got an excellently-sized combat force. Cerberus won't know what hit them."

"Goody, more spiders," Kasumi giggled, "Tali would be crying. And I'd be laughing. Marcus, you've made me such an evil woman."

"That was partly me too," Garrus remarked.

Marcus smiled meekly at the mention of Tali's name, but shook it away as he looked around the room, "This is a full deployment. I want all assigned forces to move to this RV point in orbit of Trenalan. We'll be deploying rapidly through use of kodiaks. Cortez, you're the designated driver."

Cortez smiled, giving a little nod, "I'm your man. I'll get you in and out, nice and safely, swiftly and quietly."

Marcus nodded appreciatively, "We all appreciate it, Cortez," he turned to everyone else, face taken on a more solemn tone, "I'm not going to lie. The battle coming is going to be bloody, fierce and full of carnage. Cerberus is there in force, and if they terminate those scientists, we won't just lose valuable assets, we'll lose innocent lives... and some of us will lose a friend. So be prepared, because many won't make it out. We're here to evacuate, extract the assets and get out; we are not here to destroy Cerberus forces. Do not engage Cerberus unless ordered or forced to, because we cannot expend the men and resources. So keep it cool, and stay safe. That's an order. This meeting is adjourned, you are all dismissed."

The room began to clear, but just as Mordin went to leave, Marcus called him back, "Except you, Mordin. I want to talk to you before I contact Hackett."

Suddenly, Garrus and Kasumi were at his side, both smiling. The turian spoke first, shaking his head, "We seem to be running into old friends way too much. I mean...Jacob? Look, me and that man weren't big on friendship, but he was...a decent man. A good...soldier. And he wasn't big on Cerberus, so there's two things we have in common. But...Jacob? I was expecting...Samara maybe, because, you know, she's a fighter of justice, and she'd want to protect those 'innocents.' Or maybe Miranda, but Jacob? Consider my surprised."

"Jacob's a good man," Marcus replied, "He knows what's right and what's wrong. Believe it or not, that's hard to find in people these days. Most of their morals are messed up. Jacob at least knows what's what."

"And he's got a nice pair of abs," Kasumi added, grinning as she crossed her arms, "Wouldn't having him on the Normandy again. Something to oggle at."

"Oh really?" Garrus snarkily replied, crossing his own arms and raising an eyebrow at the thief, "You don't think my abs are any good?"

"It's your lack of any that leaves me lacking," Kasumi giggled, poking her tongue out as she quickly ducked out of the room, cloak activating behind her, shrouding her in invisibility, "See ya, Garbear!"

"I'm going to kill that woman one day," Garrus grumbled, rolling his eyes at Marcus' unsympathetic grin as he left the room, huffing. It was when that everyone except Victus had basically left, with Mordin coming to join his side.

"Shepard, wanted to talk? Hopefully important. Much to do. Must get it done," Mordin stated as animated as usual, hands coming to lie back at his side as he finished waving them about.

"That's what I wanted to ask about," Marcus gulped, hands on his hips, "How much longer Mordin? I know you're going as fast as you possibly can on this, but we're running out of time, Mordin. Palaven needs the krogan, and Wrex needs that cure. The longer I spend running around the galaxy waiting, the more likely the Reapers will have destroyed every other asset before I can acquire it."

"Nearly completed," Mordin replied bluntly, showing no sign of offense, "Will perform tests on Eve soon; will be first krogan to be cured of genophage. Great honor for her. Have not told her. Would reject otherwise. Must be final test subject. Helped build, make sense to cure first. Almost ready, estimate two days."

Marcus' eyes widened, " _Two_ days? That soon? Not a week?"

Mordin only smirked, "Managed to create substance for human-quarian interspecies reproduction in less time than given for cure. Should not come as surprise. STG recruit the best. You recruited the best."

Marcus only laughed, slapping the salarian's back, "You never cease to amaze me, Mordin. I'll let you get back to work. The sooner the genophage is cured, the sooner we can get onto other alliances. The turians and the krogan aren't the only ones that need to get along."  _The quarians and geth will be an even tougher obstacle. Probably the toughest. And I still need to acquire the salarian and asari forces._

Mordin nodded, "Will get it done. Return to work now. Much still to be done. Must get it done, nonetheless. Will see you later." The salarian made a hasty retreat from the room, leaving it almost entirely empty aside for the occassional officer on the deck, and Victus typing away at his terminal, while simultaneously observing the battle plan for Noveria.

Marcus eyed the hologram, shaking his head as he remembered his last moment with Jacob before his incarceration. The man had promised to rally whatever he could. And he had. Oh God, he  _had._

The best asset so far.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1430 hours._

_Eastern Entrance, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor, Captain Maeko Matsuo._

"This is Captain Maeko Matsuo!" the captain roared over her comm, barely getting heard over the roar of gunfire and battle and death, "We're are taking heavy fire in the Eastern Corridor! Cerberus troops are pressing hard and I've lost over a dozen men already! Requesting reinforcements, over! Sergeant Heac, what is your status? Somebody, ANYBODY, TALK TO ME!"

Jacob leaned out once more, fingering the trigger of his commandeered battle rifle as it bulked and fired, a shot piercing the throat of a passing assault trooper. The soldier immediately dropped his Revenant LMG that he had used to gun down three ERCS guards, clutching at his throat as red blood seeped from the wound, spitting and guzzling as he fell onto his back, synthetic gurgles the only sound to be heard.

Jacob growled as his vindicator emptied, the weapon spitting out its empty thermal clip. Dropping the useless rifle, he rolled forward, snatching the Revenant from the ground, coming back into position, and firing just as he caught a burst of fire in his shields. He winced for a second as the weapon fired, its unfamiliar recoil sending the butt ramming into his shoulder blade, but he kept it steady as he sent a line of lead down the Cerberus ranks, cutting down any idiot stupid enough to poke his head out or charge.

Unfortunately, only two assault troopers were dumb enough to attempt that, and the line of four guardians advancing were unfazed as his heavy rounds rammed into their hard shields and splintered upon impact like shattered wood. Four talon heavy pistols coughed in response, their rounds devastating his shields in an instant, as he dove back, avoiding a second talon by a hairbreadth. One of the guards next to him wasn't so lucky, her body falling into his lap as the asari's head rolled back, lifeless eyes almost jokingly looking into his, purple blood oozing from her burst eyesocket from where the bullet entered.

He rolled her body off of him, and Matsuo shouted into the comms again.

"They're still pressing, and I don't see any reinforcements!" Matsuo roared, and he looked behind him to see her lying prone behind a dead turian guard, using his body as a sandbag as bullets poured into the lifeless corpse, her weapon positioned ontop of him and spitting round after round out of the barrel, "I don't care how you do it, just do it! We can't hold this location and we have nowhere to fall back to! Is anyone even listening to me? Damn it!"

 _She knows she can't hold this, but will if it means protecting civilians. That'll just get us all killed._ He sighed as he looked back out, covering his eyes as an explosion rocked the wall to the right, a piece of wall smashing into two of the guardians as four guards rushed out, gunning them down...

...only to be taken out as four gunshots pierced the firefight, four bodies crumbling to the ground, all with missing heads.  _Damn Nemesis'._ Blood flowed along the ground in all directions, both Cerberus and ERCS; red, blue, purple, green...it all mixed like colors of the bloody rainbow.

_We need to contact Lorik. Get him to evacuate so we can fall back into the Port itself. We can hold better there. But this fucking tunnel is a fucking slaughtering ground! We aren't even making a dent in them!_

"Matsuo!" he growled into the comms, wincing as a shot pierced his Revenant and shredded the barrel, rendering his weapon useless. He angrily tossed it aside, pulling out his eviscerator shotgun, and keeping it out of range of the gunfire, "We need to retreat! Contact Qui'in! Get him to evacuate the Port so we can fall back!"

"Over this?" Matsuo shouted back, "Not a chance in hell! We have no idea whether or not Cerberus has planned for that! We could be sending those civilians into a trap! No, we hold here!"

"The corridor is lost and so are we if we stay here!" Jacob replied.

"So be it," Matsuo stated solemnly, popping out of cover as she popped off another burst, this one barely draining the shields of an advancing centurion. Seeing as he was closer to Jacob's cover, the soldier leaned out, took aim with shotgun and fired, the shell piercing the centurion's calf and blowing it wide open, bits of red viscera splling out across the floor as the Cerberus commander bent over, screeching. He made to raise his mattock, but Jacob knocked it aside, sending a biotic warp straight into his head. Reducing it to a pulpy mass, the centurion's headless body was sent reeling back, blood trailing in the air behind him, until he slammed onto the shield of an advancing guardian. The soldier almost angrily used the shield to swat the dead body away, but realized his fatal mistake too late when Matsuo got off a shot, piercing his side, before sending a shot straight through his visor, killing him instantly.

Jacob found the form of a combat engineer easily enough among the smoke and fire, the soldier kneeling down to prepare a turret. Before Jacob could take him out however, he found himself biotically thrown into a wall, eviscerator clattering to the ground. He moved to get up, but was merely picked up and tossed to the ground again, and then again. Finally, dazed, he made to get up once more, only to have a boot to his chest shove him back down again as he met the eyes of his enemy.

A dragoon loomed over him, triumphant as it prepared a biotic warp. Growling, he activated his omni-blade and hurled it at the man's leg, but he pulled away at the last second, assuming a battle posture, body glowing blue. Jacob brought up a barrier just in time to deflect one warp as he charged forward, hurling his blade at him rapidly to keep him from being able to bear his biotics and to keep him concentrated on deflecting his blows.

Just as he moved for the final swing however, a blade narrowly swung past him...the blade of a phantom.

Instead, however, of moving to deal with his opponent, he moved forward, under the arm of the dragoon, and swung around, kicking the dragoon forward as the phantom attempted to stab him, only to end up stabbing the dragoon through the belly, blade erupting out the otherside in a blur of red.

Occupied with the blade currently stuck in her ally's body, the phantom was unable to defend herself as Jacob suddenly reappeared, swung his blade, sent her head flying with a hiss, thudding against the ground as red blood poured from the wound and coated the ground in a thick blanket of crimson.

Satisfied, he moved to deal with the next threat, only to feel the ground shudder once and twice, followed by another two times, and another...only then did Jacob realize.

An Atlas.

He whorled around, retreating as the guards did, "Retreat! Atlas! Retreat!  _Retreat!_ "

He turned at the last moment to see the hulking mech arise from the flames, one foot coming down to cave in a skycar that had been parked there. Raising its machine gun, it gunned down any of the guards still in the open, and sent a rocket smashing into a skycar they were using for cover, crushing and smashing and blowing apart whatever guards had crouched behind it. The next was a methodical thump, thump, thump of its cannon, shell after shell eviscerating whoever made a run for it. The Atlas, by itself, was tearing their force asunder, one by one, nothing to oppose it. They did not have the heavy weapons to fight it.

He stuck close to cover, keeping out of the vision of the Atlas pilot. He eventually reached Captain Matsuo's position, the guard almost immediately turning towards him as he arrived, coming to crouch next to her, " _Now_ do you think its time to fall back?"

Matsuo gave him a look akin to a glare as she finished talking with one of her sergeants, and reluctantly nodded, "You're right, Taylor. There's no way I can hold this location-" she was cut off by a shell pounding through the air to reduce the sergeant she had been speaking to to a cloud of eviscerated, blue flesh. With as sigh, she wiped it from her hair and face, what she could at least, and shook her head, "This location is compromised and we need to leave. But any retreat we make would be suicidal. That mech is cutting us down as we pop out."

"Then you need a distraction," Jacob offered, prepping his biotics, "I volunteer."

She grasped his shoulder as he made to leave, pulling him back down, "You've got an unborn child and a finance back in the port. You stay here, I'll be the distraction."

Before  _she_ could get up, he placed a hand on her shoulder, grasped it and pulled her down, tsking, "Don't you pull that excuse. I'm sure many here have wives, husbands and/or children. And besides, I've faced alot worse than an Atlas. Try storming the Collector Base in the center of the galactic core and living to tell the tale. Try storming the Shadow Broker's base and living to tell the tale. Try saving Commander Shepard from an asteroid about to collide into a mass relay and living to tell the tale. This is just me  _distracting_ an Atlas," he smiled, "I can handle it. Now take your men, and make a retreat when you see its distracted."

Matsuo nodded, shaking her head as she gave him a salute, "I could have done with a man like you in my garrison. Last person who got their job done as well as you did was Stirling, but she was a bit of a loose cannon. She died three years ago, though."

He nodded, poking his head out to see that the Atlas was practically almost ontop of them, firing a shell point blank into a skycar under it that some guards had hidden under, exploding in a gust of flame as bits of debris pounced off its armoured carapace. The pilot continued forward, unblinking, scanning the room for victims.

And, without warning, he shot out, rolled behind a toppled road freighter, and then sprinted out from behind it, directly behind the Atlas. He blinked, surprised.  _Must have completely skipped its vision. Got to get its attention._ Without further hesitation, he found his shotgun, retrieved it and fired it at the Atlas' back, watching its kinetic barriers absorb it.

But it worked.

The Atlas halted all forward motion and rotated, coming to face him, its machine gun arm already raised and primed. He had to act fast.

He absorbed the first volley with a biotic barrier, quickly diving out of the way to avoid a rocket aimed at him, but he had not dove fast enough. The explosion threw him five meters into a jagged piece of metal, missing the sharpened tip by an inch, but slamming his back against it, causing him to cry out. But at least his distraction was working.

Even now, he watched ERCS guards arise and begin to run back down the corridor, Matsuo moving quietly alongside them, ushering them along. ERCS were not traditional military; they were just a security corporation, and they weren't supposed to fight huge battles like this. Only Matsuo seemed to resonate any sort of calm, and that's only because she was former military: the EUMC, she had been a part of (European Union Marine Corps). So the rest ran like a flock of frightened hens, desperate to reach safety.

The Atlas now loomed right over him, raising its machine gun arm for one final shot to finish Jacob off. But he wasn't going down that easily. He quickly formed a singularity and, with pinpoint accuracy, sent it flying down into the barrel.

As planned, the singularity entered the barrel, and flickered into life. The gravity well created inside the barrel caused the weapon to start to implode, folding in on itself, metal creaking, lead crushed, one by one. And after a bit, he sent a warp straight into the middle, and raised a barrier to protect himself as the warp impacted, singularity detonating as the HMG was blown apart, debris moving at heavy speeds to slam into his barrier or the area around him. When the smoke cleared, he heard a huge thud that shook the ground.

Frowning, he looked down and widened his eyes as he stood up, seeing the crumbled Atlas, smoke drifting from the Atlas' missing arm, disconnected wires lying all around. Surprised at the mech's sudden demise, he climbed up ontop, quickly finding the cause.

The cockpit glass had caved in, with a massive piece of debris from the gun currently skewered through the head of the pilot, pinning his puny body to the cockpit. Red blood pooled all over the cockpit, creating puddles all over. Its hands were clasped around the controls, unable to let go, red blood collecting inbetween his clamy, dead fingers, beginning to crust. Jacob simply shook his head, jumping off the body of the destroyed Atlas.

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. Then shouting. Angry shouting. Multiple shouts. Growing in crescendo.

And as Jacob turned around, he began to make a steady retreat himself, cursing under his breath, "They don't just fucking give up."

Behind him were three Atlases, all side by side, moving forward. The shouting had come from a phalanx formation of guardians pressed up against each other like riot control officers, Nemesis' between them, followed by combat engineers, centurions, assault troopers, phantoms, dragoons. The whole damn division was pushing.

He just kept running, avoiding the streaks of missiles and the cacophonies of machine guns and coughs of pistols, rifles, shotguns and sniper rifles. He just kept running, but then suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, all lighting dimmed, and then turned red, followed by bright, spasmodic yellow flashes.

And as he watched, the walls ahead began to fold in. Upon seeing them, Jacob began to run higher, seeing Matsuo waving him on.  _She's closing the blast doors. 30 inches of thick concrete wall. It'll take alot of firepower to break through it. More than three Atlases._

He reached the doors at the last moment, sidestepping through the tiny gap that now existed and out to the other side as it closed with a hiss, the clamps and locks moving into place as the blast door locked. And due to the thickness of the doors, the sound behind was muffled; the sound of an entire division of Cerberus troops advancing no longer heard.

Taking a second to catch his breath, he turned around to assess what was left of the ERCS forces, and it wasn't good. A large amount had been killed by Cerberus, and only nine men were left, plus Matsuo and himself. Of course, there was fresh reinforcements waiting back at the Port, and despite Hanshan having multiple entrances, the Eastern Corridor gave Cerberus the best chance for success and gave them complete access to the Port. They had to defend it at all costs if Hanshan was to hold.

But they couldn't hold it. And it was time to go.

He moved over to Matsuo, holstering his shotgun as the captain turned to him, "We need to get back to Hanshan and start the evacuation."

Matsuo looked flabbergasted, shaking her head, "Are you kidding? We cannot just let Port Hanshan fall! We've got a fresh load of men waiting at the Port, and with a single call I can have the men from Peaks 1 to 15 send their guards here, flank the enemy."

"And then they'd be butchered too. You just don't get it, do you?" Jacob asked, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, "These are Cerberus. Augmented supersoldiers. They have an entire division of heavily-trained soldiers, enough ordnance to wipe Hanshan off the Noverian map, and an entire fleet in orbit. The best we can do is evacuate to a port nearby...possibly Port Wertmore...and evacuate to orbit from there. But we can't stay here! No amount of troops will help! For all we know, all the Peaks have fallen! Cerberus could control them! Or a blizzard might cut them off! We need to go!"

Matsuo cursed as she turned away, holstering her rifle on her back. She had given her life to protecting the people of Hanshan. Noveria had been her life, and now she had to abandon it. She whorled towards him, shoving a finger in his angrily, "This is all your fault and those damn scientists you brought with you! I should have ordered you to leave the moment you made planetfall! Now you've brought Cerberus down on us!"

Jacob scoffed, "The war would have reached you eventually. The people of Noveria can't hide from it forever. Even if we hadn't come, the Reapers would have eventually and they'd have reduced all the ports to the ground, razed Noveria, and then turned all of you into husks for their army. What would you rather? Die fighting Cerberus or be captured and turned into a Reaper abomination? You can't blame us for hiding! Cerberus would have found us!"

Matsuo growled, biting her lower lip as she nodded, "You're right, I just needed to vent. Evacuation, yes. No other option now," she motioned to her men, and then to the entrance located 300 meters ahead, "Men, we're returning to the Port! Stock what you can and prepare to leave! When we get back, I want every shuttle you can find overhauled and prepared for immediate takeoff. Move it, people!" she turned back to Jacob, motioning to the door, "That won't hold forever, and someone needs to keep this corridor secure. You said it yourself; they'll fight tooth and nail to control this corridor and I'm not about to let them have it."

"They're after me and the scientists," Jacob told her, "They don't want Hanshan."

Matsuo only laughed, "To get what you want you need to control the exits to stop them escaping. To secure the exits, you secure the Port. And them wanting you is exactly why I don't need you here. Get back to the Port, coordinate with Qui'in. And tell whatever men are protecting the Port to get their asses up here and bring whatever equipment they can acquire. We'll fortify this position, set up a barricade, and hold them off. Its just us; noone's coming to help us, so we've got to do this the hard way."

Jacob looked to the door, sighing, "How long do you think that door will hold before they burst through?"

Matsuo shook her head, running the numbers through her head as she eyed the massive doors. Turning to him, she shrugged, "I'd give them roughly...an hour at best."

Jacob nodded, "Then we better get moving! You'll have your men, Captain!" he began to run down the corridor but before he reached 50 meters, he turned around and shouted, watching the form of Matsuo stand sentinel in front of the doors, a lone wolf extending her rifle into combat position as she crouched, "And Matsuo!"

She turned, "What?"

"Give them hell," he ordered.

A ghost of a smile graced her lips, "I'll make sure of it. Go, Taylor!"

Without so much as a nod in her direction, he turned around and began to sprint as fast as he could towards the Port. They were on a timer, and with noone to help them, they could only help themselves.

He just hoped Brynn and the baby were safe.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1440 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Entering Orbit over Noveria, Pax System, Horsehead Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI._

"Cerberus Third Fleet coming into visual," EDI declared, "As predicted, they are directly within our flight path." They cannot see us, but they can see the rest of our fleet. It would be wise to act quickly before they have time to call battlestations and counterattack."

"Noted EDI," Marcus replied, placing his hand on Joker's chair, gripping it tightly, "Joker, tell Garrus to prep the thanix cannon for deployment. EDI, open the comms to the entire fleet. I'll address them myself."

The rendezvous point had been perfect. The hanar had sent two destroyers and a picket of fighters, and the elcor had sent ten heavy frigates. And, just as they had hoped, the volus had caved to the Primarch's orders and two volus bombers, about the size of a corvette, flew next to the Normandy, ready to launch their plasmatic assault. And, despite his protests, Hackett had persisted and sent four Normandy-Class Stealth Frigates of the SR-1 design, all with their own stealth drives of course, and all were going to deploy kodiak shuttles with the troops requested. And despite wanting to come, Marcus had convinced Zaeed to stay in the Terminus. He didn't need another Darner Vosque taking control of the Blue Suns and rebelling.  _I have the Suns, and I plan on keeping them._

Joker scoffed, shaking his head as his hands danced over the cockpit controls, "Garrus already knows. You know he never leaves his gun unless he's ordered to, right?"

Marcus rolled his eyes, "Of course I know. I'm saying it so he doesn't think I've found him out."

Joker opened his mouth in exclamation, nodding as he turned back to the front, "Okay then. I'll make sure  _not_ to pass that on and to simply fire the gun when I'm ready."

"Watch yourself Joker," Marcus jested, eyes scanning the Cerberus fleet before them. It was the size of a normal Alliance fleet, albeit slightly smaller. The flagship of the fleet, the one EDI identified as the Cerberus dreadnought CAW Nanga Parbat, which held the admiral of the fleet; Ronald Tiberius, a man who's anti-alien ideals ended with him exiled from Alliance space. Marcus knew him well.  _Used to be admiral of the Second Fleet before Drescher. Got to be careful with him._

Next to the dreadnought was the carrier CAW Martin Luther, followed by four battleships. Around those were numerous heavy cruisers, light cruisers, destroyers, frigates, fighters, interceptors, corvettes...the lot. It was a large fleet, heavily armoured, and they were about to enter combat.

"We'll hit the weakest spot. We won't risk battle with the larger capital ships," Marcus ordered as the comm opened, "Elcor ships move forward, volus bombers behind, hanar ships take up the rear. All stealth frigates, follow behind the Normandy; follow our comms beacon. We'll move through the hole and make planetfall while they keep them busy. Once we've landed, rendezvous with the rest and make best speed to the relay. All the stealth frigates, including the Normandy, will hold in orbit and pick us up when we evacuate. Best speed everyone. Let's do this and kick some Cerberus ass."

The fleet did as ordered, and in no time they had a working battle formation; one that steadily creeped up on Tiberius' third fleet. Marcus watched as his ships began to move into position, and he knew in that instant he had to make his move. "Elcor ships, open up! Volus and hanar, when they finish their first volley, open up! Remaining ships, open up as soon as they are finished! Joker, deploy the thanix!"

He watched the screen as the oddly tear-drop shaped elcor heavy frigates unleashed a hail of fire from their GARDIAN batteries, followed by numerous pulse lasers and gattling guns. Yellow streaks of light, tearing through space towards the enemy warships. The shots connected fairly quickly, causing mere ripples along the surface of the targeted Cerberus ships; six frigates, and a light cruiser. One lot almost penetrated the shields of one frigate, so the next volley would prove its downfall.

Next came the most devastating. For once, Marcus was grateful for the tinted windows.

The volus bombers lit up like the 4th of July as they pulsated, firing twin bolts of plasma energy forward at the enemy ships, moving with the speed of bullets. Within seconds of firing, they had impacted their designated ships. The bombers continued their volleys, firing four in total.

The unshielded frigate was annihilated almost instantly as it opened fire, getting off two missiles before its hull disintegrated, bubbled and blew apart, the ship splitting in half from where the three bolts had hit it.

Next were three corvettes, all decimated instantly from one bolt each, destroying them utterly. The last two bolts impacted the side of a destroyer, draining its shields completely. Said destroyer then opened fire, followed by the rest of the fleet.

Four heavy cruisers utterly put six of the elcor heavy frigates to ruin, utterly crippling them but not destroying them. The Nanga Parbat managed to fire and impact one of the hanar destroyers, draining its shields and scoring a hit on its port side thruster.

The bombers answered again, this time with the hanar opening fire, and the rest of the elcor heavy frigates. GARDIAN missiles, pulse lasers, gattling guns and bolts of plasma strode alongside each other until they hit the enemy ships with, what could have been, a thunderous clap, if they hadn't been in space.

The unshielded destroyer was sheared in half, another crippled, and a number of fighters and interceptors caught in the crossfire simply exploded in flight. Others, at least a few dozen, flew off to engage the hanar fighters, clashing in multiple explosions of light. Despite his orders, he watched three plasma bolts strike and disintegrate the hull of a light cruiser, followed by the rest hitting the starboard side of a battleship, all of them draining its shields to nothing, followed by the last bolt slamming into where the massive gun platform's engine room would have been, likely killing whoever was in there and leaving the ship dead in the water. The rest of the volley impacted harmlessly against the dreadnought's shields, barely making a dent.

"They've made their salvos, Shepard!" Joker cried out, speaking next with an attempt at a redneck accent, "Let's give 'em a hurtin!"

"Do it Joker," he ordered, "All ships, open fire! Disable the dreadnought if you can. If you can destroy it, even better. Target one of those ships with the thanix."

Joker didn't need any reminding and quite soon, the entire fleet was opening up again, with every thing it had, the whole fleet now racing forward to clash with the Cerberus vessels in close-quarters combat.

Most of the fire was concentrated on the dreadnought, including four of the plasma bolts. Joker whistled in triumph as its shields crumbled and a shot pierced its bow, vaporizing the tip of one of its wings, before another completely blew it off. They hadn't destroyed it, but the Nanga Parbat was disabled, for all intents and purposes. That wing had contained an awful lot of its weaponry and GARDIAN batteries, ridding it of a number of its defensive weapons.

Next was a stream of javelin torpedoes from the numerous stealth frigates, arcing towards a group of frigates and impacting hard. Bits of armor plating was blown off and disintegrated; the thrusters of one were blown off, the bridge of another totally vaporized, and one hit dead center, crippling it. When the volley was over, another two corvettes had been blown to pieces, three frigates damaged, and another destroyer crippled. And then, when the fleet had finally ceased fire and Cerberus had returned fire, most of the shots missing, the Normandy fired its thanix.

The jet of brilliant blue light pierced through space to just miss the Martin Luther, instead coming to pierce the hull of the crippled battleship, melting through the hull and blasting through the other side, splitting it in half. A squadron of interceptors that had been on the other side were vaporized when it erupted, and the shot continued until it grazed along the side of a second battleship, vaporized a destroyer and finally came to rest in the hull of a heavy cruiser, its blackened hull a testament to its now missing bridge, wing and most of its bow.

When their assault ended, the Normandy leading the stealth frigates through the gap, stealth systems reengaged, the Cerberus Third Fleet was not decimated, but had a massive dent placed in it. More than Marcus had anticipated.

Debris floated through space, flames glowing bright and then dying in the dead hulls of the destroyed ships. Dozens of fighters and interceptors had been blown apart, along with two frigates, five corvettes, two destroyers, one light cruiser, one heavy cruiser and one battleship. They had disabled the dreadnought, numerous other ships, and punched a hole in their blockade his ships could not exploit. Even now, the elcor and hanar ships were pouring through the gap, weapons lighting up as they continued to lay waste to everything they could find, hanar fighter wings keeping enemy fighters at bay. He watched three more corvettes go up, and another frigate's defenses get overwhelmed. But Cerberus was quickly rushing to close the blockade, and he watched six heavy cruisers race forward, accompanied by a battleship, the latter's enormous array of firepower utterly devastating the remainder of the elcor frigates and forcing the hanar into retreat. But that was more than enough.

The Normandy and its stealth frigates raced to the surface, shooting down towards the ice globe down below, an army in its wake.

One battle was phyrrically won, and another was on the way.

And this time, they had to face the enemy fully...and utterly devastate them if they wanted to rescue the scientists.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1446 hours._

_Main Bridge, Killmanjaro-Class Dreadnought CAW Nanga Parbat HA-4, Cerberus Blockade over Noviera, Pax System, Horsehead Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Fleet Admiral Ronald Tiberius._

The ungodly red glow of the room was making it hard to see, Tiberius had concluded. And he hated not being able to see.

As he looked around the bridge, it was plain to the eye that it was total chaos. Alarms were ringing all over the vessel, ranging from fire alarms, to depressurization, to hull breaches on almost every deck. Numerous consoles had blown up, either killing their operators or injurying them, but either way, those controls were out of commission. His XO, Lucy Farwright, lay injured next to him, wincing in pain from the piece of debris winged in her midsection, blood leaking from the wound as she held onto the piece of jagged metal.

While the bridge and engineering were untouched, other sections of the mighty dreadnought were not so lucky. The entire port wing of the ship had been destroyed, all the weapons on it taken with it and now occupying the debris field. Most of its bow torpedo launchers were jammed and unable to fire, and the ship's MAC was malfunctioning, but under repairs. Aside from losing the port wing, they were relatively unharmed, but it was significant damage nonetheless. The debris from the wing had pierced the side, so whatever decks weren't decompressed by plasma, were by debris collision.

Tiberius, despite the mass hysteria in the bridge, was more concentrated on his fleet. He'd lost a large number of corvettes, even more of his fighters and interceptors, and a few more capital ships. The biggest loss was the destruction of the CAW Jericho, one of his battleships. They now only had three; the CAW Waterloo, CAW Londinium and CAW Atlanta. The Atlanta and Waterloo had since moved in alongside the Nagna Parbat in escort formation, many destroyers and heavy cruisers taking up alongside them, with the rest protecting the Martin Luther. The Londinium had shifted to close the gap left open, and had since crushed the remaining elcor fleet and chased off the hanar. But despite the phyrric victory, Tiberius couldn't help but feel like something was wrong.

_Those blips on the sensors...I recognize those. They were Normandy-Class stealth frigates. Must have engaged their stealth drives and headed for the service...that's why they weren't aiming to properly engage us. They were headed for the surface...but then that means they know about the scientists..._

He groaned, hitting his XO on the shoulder, coughing from the smoke filling the bridge, his crew desperately fighting the fire that had burst behind them, "Get your ass up and get to medical! Jason, you're substitute until she's healed!"

"Ye-yes...si-" she tried to finish, but eventually gave up on talking as she forced herself to her feet, limping over to the exit door on the starboard side, leaning on a bulkhead so she didn't fall. Jason quickly filled her place, his crisp white and gold Cerberus uniform almost unmolested, pristine clean and the shining gold bars of a Lieutenant Commander on his uniform easily seen.

"Should we regroup sir or continue pursuing the hanar, sir?" Jason asked.

Tiberius shook his head, rubbing his temples, "The hanar pose no threat at all, Jason. They've lost the bulk of their force, and even with their volus bombers they won't try a frontal assault again. What's got me worried were the several alliance stealth frigates that broke through our line to the surface. Any word from Peak 15?"

"Broke through sir? Stealth frigates?" Jason asked, frowning, "Sir, the sensors didn't...oh, of course. Stupid me."

"Exactly," Tiberius deadpanned, shaking his head, "Now, any word from Peak 15?"

"None sir. Operative Leng has made no attempt to contact us," Jason stated, raising an eyebrow, "Should we contact him, sir?"

"No, I think we should stay here and let whoever went down there get what they want," he punched Jason in the stomach, the officer wheezing from the blow as the air blew out of him, "Of course we should! Open a channel, and tell him he'd better respond or I'll launch 200 tonnes of molten tungsten up his ass loaded with christmas lights."

"But its June si-"

"Just do it, you fucking baffoon!"

Jason did as ordered, turning to comms, but stopping as he saw the comms officer's body slouched over the console, blood crusted on the terminal controls. Jason turned to the admiral, but he merely shrugged, motioning to the console with a 'after you' look on his face. Sighing, he moved over and shoved the body out of the chair, using the needed controls and opening a communications channel.

"Leng here," an irritated voice replied, "What the hell do you want? I'm busy making this asari plead for mercy. Its rather fun." They heard a kick, followed by an asari screaming, "And boy, does she have a voice. Her screams are like...beautiful music."

"If you're done with your psycho episode, we've got a problem," Tiberius dryly declared, leaning forward, "We've just been attacked, and I've lost a large number of my ships. We fought them off, but several Normandy-Class Stealth Frigates broke through to the surface. We think they're heading to Port Hanshan with the intention of extracting the scientists."

"Then kill them," Leng stated dumbly.

Tiberius rolled his eyes, "Like I said, they broke through. As in they broke orbit, and have probably made planetfall at this point."

"Damn it, Tiberius!" Leng snarled, the assassin sounding overly frustrated, "You had one job!"

"They had bombers and a thanix cannon," Tiberius growled, "And when you're done wasting your time torturing asari in the name of your sickened racism, maybe you can judge me for not doing my job. So get off your fucking ass and get over to Hanshan! Is Peak 15 secured?"

"You can't talk to m-" Leng began.

Tiberius didn't even register his comment,  _"Is Peak 15 secured?_  Damn it Leng, answer the fucking question!"

"Yes!" Leng snapped, "All the Peak facilities are secured and my regiment is at the ready."

"Good. That'll make this easier, and it means ERCS can't squawk for help," Tiberius noted, nodding, "Excellent work. How soon do you think you can be at Hanshan?"

"At best speed in this blizzard? Give me twenty minutes."

"You have ten," the admiral bluntly replied, "Get your job done, Leng. Kill those scientists. And the Illusive Man didn't want me to tell you yet, but it turns out Jacob Taylor is with them."

"The dog?" He could have sworn he could see Leng's sadistic smirk, "This just got more interesting. I shall have his head."

"Don't get cocky, Leng. You remember what happened during Operation: Dexterity on Sur'Kesh," he replied, carefully choosing his next words, "Make sure they're all dead, but do it without actually getting yourself killed."

"Shepard won't be there to protect him. He will be dead, and the scientists. It will be done. Leng out," and with that, the comms were cut, Tiberius leaning back in his chair.

"What now, sir?" Jason asked.

Tiberius' answer was simple, turning to the XO with a solemn gaze.

"We fix the fleet and prepare for exfil of the division and Leng's regiment. Once the scientists and Taylor are confirmed KIA, we hit the relay. Operation: Polar Fire will not fail."

"The Illusive Man doesn't like failure."

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1451 hours._

_Main Dock, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex._

Luckily for them, ERCS hadn't thought of closing the dock's doors. That would make their insertion alot easier.

The first four kodiaks shot through the open doors and into the dock, each finding its own landing zones. Another four followed behind it, then another, and finally the last two, all coming to land with their own thuds against the concrete ground, their operators ignoring the frost gathering on their screens.

Marcus' came to land more gracefully, Cortez shouting out to them, "Planetfall is made! Might want to get outside before ERCS starts shooting us up!"

He nodded, slapping Cortez's shoulder appreciatively, "Copy that, Cortez. Safe trip back to the Normandy. We'll radio you when we're ready for extraction."

"Sort of goes without saying at this point," Garrus quipped as he stepped out of the shuttle, his trusty Reaper sniper rifle that he had from the old days folding into his grip. The rest of the squad followed, all with their own weapons, and Marcus simply rolled his eyes, chuckling alongside Cortez.

"Clear skies, Cortez. Clear skies," and with that he turned, Cortez's chuckles the last sound he heard from the shuttle as it shut its hatch behind him, his newly acquired mattock falling back into his hands.  _Damn I've missed the feel of this rifle. Phaeston wasn't all that great in comparison._

He moved ahead of the squad, moving into a jogging pace as the roar of exiting shuttles was heard all around, "Let's get moving people! Hussle up! Move it!"

They quickly came to run past the first...fifth?...of Grunt's Aralakh Company, Grunt being with them and nodding to Marcus as he holstered his claymore and threw an Avalanche launcher at one of his men to equip. As Marcus looked around, more of Aralakh Company was deployed, along with Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack mercs, and finally, his army of rachni workers, soldiers and brood warriors. All headed towards the end of the dock, ready to engage the enemy.

Remembering the layout from three years before, he reached the end and moved right to where the checkpoint was located; the place where he had met Captain Maeko Matsuo, and Sergeant Kaira Stirling before her demise. He remembered that racist bitch well.  _How I tore her apart...just for insulting Tali..._ He shook the thought from his head, arriving at the end and ordering a halt, turning towards the head of the checkpoint, waving all forwarded, "Gather up! All of you!"

They did so, Aralakh krogan, mercenaries and rachni warriors mingling as they came to look upon Marcus and his squad, eagerly awaiting his words. Grunt stood at the front, smiling his sadistic grin as he unholstered his claymore, awaiting Marcus' next order.

The spectre nodded, looking to the rest of them, "United with you today is what the UGC has achieved! Beside you rests the rachni; thought extinct, and wanting vengeance against the Reapers! They shall start with Cerberus! This battle will not be glorious, to be sure, but it will be a  _true_ test of our strength! Of the potential that a unified UGC military could have! Aralakh Company, the krogan's finest soldiers! The rachni, some of the most brutal fighters in the galaxy and with the advantage of numbers! And the three most dangerous mercs in the galaxy; no longer fighting for money, but for survival. Today we take the fight to Cerberus, and today we will kill every single last one of them if we get a chance, but our main objective is to rescue those scientists. They could mean Cerberus' downfall, and a huge blow to the Reapers. Winning this will secure the future of the war! Will you stand with me!?"

Everyone cheered, even the krogan. The rachni merely stood, but the waves that reverbrated in his head showed they were in agreement. The krogan roared their approval, waving their guns in the air and growling in defiance. The mercs cheered in numerous tongues, all smiling and whistling.

He nodded, motioning to the room ahead, "Cerberus lies ahead and they will not surrender! They will fight to the last one! We shall give them that! Our main mission is to extract the scientists, but destroy Cerberus wherever you can find them. They will not give you any quarter, so shove them none back! Kill them all!"

They all cheered again, and he nodded with a grim look of composure, jumping down from the pedestal he was on and moving through the crowd, shouldering his rifle as he made a sweep of the stairs on each side, nodding to the rest of the unit that they could advance. Aralakh took the front with his squad, making sure to watch their steps and keep an eye on their flanks.

Just as they moved up the steps, gunfire pinged off his shields and he cried out for everyone to stay back, immediately dropping prone and taking aim with his rifle to return fire. But after a bit, he noticed that the uniform of the guard was a jet black color, and that he was a salarian...and that he was wide out in the open.

"Hold your fire! We're friendly!" Marcus shouted, standing up and holstering his mattock, holding out his hands as a sign of peace, "I'm a marine! Alliance Marine Corps! We're here to help!"

"Well, you're not Cerberus!" the guard shouted back, "But why can I see krogan? And is that a bug?"

He heard Javik sigh, "Another misconception. They begin to annoy me."

"Or  _bug_  you," James punned. Seeing Javik's glare however, he quickly shut up, absentmindedly thumbing the trigger of his Revenant in pretend interest.

"Me and these men are here on behalf of the United Galactic Confederacy!" he shouted back, ignoring the quips of James and Javik, "We discovered that Cerberus had invaded Noveria and came to assist. Are the scientists still alive?"

"Scientists?" the salarian asked, confused, "What are you talking about?"

Marcus mentally berated himself, "False credentials. Right," he sighed, reiterating his words, "We've discovered high value assets came here and Cerberus came after them, hence why they're attacking!"

"So you're here for them? Not us?" the guard snorted, "Some help you are then!"

Grunt had enough and spoke before Marcus could stop him, "Considering your situation, I wouldn't be turning away reinforcements! Cerberus will kill you all if you don't evacuate, but with us, you have a better chance of fighting them off, salarian."

There was a moment of silence before the guard replied, "You've got a point, and there is alot of you...we'll let you pass! You can find the administrator in his office, but the captain is indisposed at the moment. She's busy holding the eastern corridor."

"So I don't have to knock him out?" came Kasumi's voice as she decloaked from behind the guard, startling him and his partner as they backed into a wall. Sighing, she shrugged, holstering her SMG, "Oh well. Enjoy the time you get, frog boy. You get to stay awake for now."

Even as Kasumi rejoined them and Marcus led the troops on and into the port, the salarian still eyed her with suspicion, fingering the side of his rifle in concern.

They moved in lines of two, down the corridor and into the Port, weapons bared and ready to engage any hostiles. Marcus hit the comm, contacting one of the Blood Pack platoons, "Zeta Platoon, hold back and help defend the main dock entrance. Let nothing through and report any suspicious activity. Do not move unless ordered to do so by myself or someone appointed by me as a command figure."

"We hear you," a rough krogan voice replied, and Marcus continued, not bothering to see if they had disengaged or not. They bypassed the security field, and moved down the flight of stairs, moving around the corner until they came across an elevator.

Marcus cursed, spinning to face the salarian guard, "Anyway around this? A flight of stairs, maybe?"

The salarian nodded, motioning to a flight of stairs on the left that led upwards, "Always have a backup."

"Excellent. Let's move it!" he barked, and they continued their formation up the stairs, Marcus holstering his rifle to pull out his hurricane SMG, sweeping the area infront of him as they moved up, ever vigliant.

After a couple of minutes, they finally reached the top floor, Marcus bursting through the door with his weapon bared...

...only to find the Port basically empty, an entire squad worth of ERCS guns aimed at him and his squad.

"Don't shoot, we're friendly!" Marcus shouted, holstering his SMG, "United Galactic Confederacy. I'm Captain Shepard, and these are my men. We heard Noveria was under attack and we came to help you evacuate."

The guards immediately lowered their guns, the leader nodding, a turian guard with white facepaint and a relieved expression, "Thank the spirits you're here. Cerberus is making life hell for us, and they've got-" the building rocked, dust falling from the ceiling from a large explosion. Sighing, the turian continued, "Well, they've got artillery pounding the hell out of this place. We sealed the blast doors on the eastern corridor, you see, and they're throwing everything they have to breach it, so they're trying to soften us through artillery barrages. Didn't realize that the people who built this place built it to withstand orbital bombardment. They'll only have one option now," he motioned to a corridor at the end of the room, "The Northern Corridor. It doesn't offer as much tactical advantage as the Eastern, but its the only option they have. We sealed the western corridor a long time ago, and the southern corridor collapsed due to an avalanche a while back and we haven't reopened it."

"What about the garage?" Marcus asked, remembering how he used it to reach Peak 15 three years ago.

The turian shook his head, "Unless they want to brave the blizzard, they won't try to break in there. Besides, it only leads one way and that's the Peak 15 Facility, but they aren't coming from that direction; Eastern Corridor leads to the Peaks 4 and 7 facilities only, nowhere else. Cerberus will likely have half their division rushing the western corridor now, and Matsuo's called back most of the men to help fortify the East. We have noone!"

"You've got us," Liara spoke up, looking to Marcus for approval. He nodded, turning to the turian with a determined gaze.

"You just got your backup. But remember, we aren't here to save Port Hanshan. Its already lost," he declared, "If Cerberus doesn't take this place, the Reapers will. We've probably already attracted their attention simply by attacking Cerberus in orbit. We need to evacuate the Port while we hold Cerberus at the gates. Have you got any shuttles?"

An asari nodded, pointing to the second dock down below, "We've got some of our remaining guys fishing what they can, but alot of people live here. We're not going to have enough!"

"That'll be fine. The shuttles we used to deploy can be used," he stated, hitting the radio to Cortez's shuttle, "Normandy Shuttle Two, this is Shepard, come in."

"This is Cortez. What do you need?" the pilot responded.

"Help with evacuation required, over," he responded, "Numerous civilians, not enough shuttles. Will evacuate what we can...require additional assistance, copy. Will contact you when we need further help, over."

"Solid copy. Staying on station. Cortez out," the comm disconnected, and he turned back to them, nodding as he exhaled, facing the turian guard before him.

"Okay, you, begin the evacuation," the turian nodded, running in another direction towards the administrator's office. He turned back to the asari, "You, take us to the western corridor. Keep what men you have left here; we'll need you to protect the civilians. My men can handle the fortifications."

The asari snapped a crisp salute, "Yes sir!" she motioned to him, "Follow me."

"Wait," he ordered, turning to his squad as he crossed his arms, biting his lower lip. Finally reaching a decision, he nodded, motioning to Garrus, Javik and Keeling, "You three, stay with me, I'm going to go talk with the administrator and coordinate logistics on this," he pointed to his squad, "Wrex, you're in command. Take the squad and both Blue Suns platoons, and take point. Aralakh Company, I want you providing support, and I want the second Blood Pack platoon and both Eclipse platoons covering both flanks. Rachni, hold back and do not engage the enemy. I don't want to show that hand yet. If our line begins to get overwhelmed, then move forward and push them back. You guys will be a wildcard they won't expect, and I want to play it well. Let's do it people!" he turned to the asari, "Get them there soldier, and they'll do the rest."

"I'm...not a soldier," the asari replied, shaking her head, frowning at him, "I'm just a security guard. A temp."

"You are today," he stated bluntly, "Now get them there. They'll deal with your pest infestation."

"Heh heh heh!" Grunt cheered, "Aralakh Company, move out! Come on, hustle! I can smell battle already!"

The thunderous march of ninety krogan commandos, rachni warriors and mercenary soldiers could be heard moving across the Port as Marcus, Garrus, Javik and Keeling trailed behind him towards the administrator's office, where hopefully they'd get some answers.

Two ERCS guards stood in position, their shotguns bared and ready, both of them human. Just as he was about to address them however, the door behind them slid open, and out stood a turian in a crisp suit, and a dark-skinned human male soldier he'd recognize from anywhere.

"Jacob!" Marcus greeted, immediately gaining the man's attention as he shot up to meet his eyes, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"Shepard! What the hell!?" He moved forward, holding his hand out. Marcus eagerly took it, shaking his hand as he laughed, Jacob seeming to catch it like an infectious disease as he also greeted Garrus, "What are you guys doing here?"

"Heard Noveria needed help. And that there were some Cerberus scientists that had defected and thought we could use them for the war effort. Have them join the UGC and help us," he sighed, shaking his head, "Should have known you'd be their guardian."

Jacob creased his lips, still smiling, "Someone had to play hero while you were locked up. I did what I could to rally who I could, but not alot of them listened. Been spoonfed too much Council horseshit. Unable to see reason. Still, I guess they learned. They're probably all dead now," he lost his smile instantly, "And here I am, supposed to be protecting these scientists from the minotaur and I've lead them right into a corner."

Marcus grasped his shoulder, losing his own smile and gaining a look of solemn determination, "Don't be too hard on yourself, Jacob. Cerberus was bound to find them eventually; you know you would have to have faced them eventually. Even with the galaxy going to shit and the Reapers invading, Cerberus still wouldn't have given up the search. The Illusive Man's too tenacious for that."

Jacob nodded, snorting at that, "You're right, that bastard would never give up if he saw a threat; just like with us. Of course, I guess he did give up in the end, but that's different. He didn't have his own...personal army back then. Seriously, when did that happen? Cerberus? Militarized? Since when?"

"Since six months ago apparently. Or maybe even before. The Illusive Man's been gearing up for war a long time, and without the Alliance to check him, he's got a force to be reckoned with. Almost took Eden Prime if it hadn't been for us, and according to Aria, he now owns Omega," he stated.

"The Illusive Man  _owns Omega?_  And Aria isn't on it anymore?" Jacob looked shocked, and he had a right to be. Omega hadn't been conquered militarily in centuries. Not even Aria's conquest counted as it was more of a revolution or civil war than a military occupation, "Wow, guess he's violated its one rule then."

Marcus scoffed, "And every broken rule has a consequence. I'm sure Aria will get back at him at some point. But forget that," he motioned to the Port, "Just how did you end up here? How did you end up protecting 36 defecting Cerberus scientists, including that motherfucker, Archer?"

He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish, "Found them in an abandoned Cerberus base on Gellix. They seemed to be packing and had nowhere to go. They had this sort of assigned leader, her name is Brynn. Brynn Cole. So I decided to help them out, and I figured that Noveria was the safest place to go; I knew the Illusive Man wouldn't dare attack us in such a heavily-protected Port. But I didn't realize..."

"...that he now had proper armed forces," he nodded grimly, sighing, "We don't expect these things Jacob, they just happen. Its up to us to see it through. I'm assuming their safe? They'll need to be evacuated as soon as possible, but civilians must come first."

"I know that. And they are all safe. Even Brynn...especially Brynn..." Jacob trailed off, and noticing Marcus' face, he laughed, shaking his head, "She's a bit special..."

 _Oh, 'special' is she? Does that mean what I think it does?_ The spectre crossed his arms, smiling devilishly as he raised an eyebrow, "A bit special? Jacob, by your tone, I'd be safe to assume that you have a girlfriend. Or did you get married somehow?"

"Girlfriend, still. Although I have proposed, and she will marry me, when we're actually safe from Cerberus," he shrugged, "She's even pregnant. She's due in four months."

Marcus looked flabbergasted, and Garrus looked like his jaw had dropped.

Garrus just couldn't hold it in, "You got her pregnant?"

Jacob looked at him incredulously, "Yeah, and there's a problem?"

"No, of course not!" Garrus nervously replied, waving his hands as if trying to make him forget the off-handed comment, "Just seems...a bit fast. I don't see you as a family man."

"None of us do," Marcus sadly replied, "None of us do..."  _Am I a father? Will I be?_ He shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the present, "Its good to see you again, Jacob, despite all that's happening. I'm glad to see you're okay," he stepped aside to introduce him to the two unknowns, "Jacob, this is Javik, and before you ask, he is the last prothean, and he can explain the rest. And this is Second Lieutenant Keeling, N7 Special Forces. I met her when the Normandy arrived at Arcturus; she helped escort me to my cell. Wasn't until the Reapers invaded Earth that I learnt her name."

"Nice to meet both of you. But the last prothean, Shepard?" Jacob laughed, unable to get rid of his smile this time, despite the grim predicament they were in, "Our lives just get more and more crazy."

"Commander Shepard," a familiar turian voice spoke from behind Jacob, coming to stand at the soldier's side and holding his hand out, "We meet again."

His eyes widened, "Lorik Qui'in.  _You're_ the administrator still? Damn, I know Parasini told me you were doing better than Anoleis, but damn. How is Anoleis by the way? Still rotting in prison, I hope."

Lorik shook his head sadly, "Not in prison, no. But he is enjoying his time as a janitor at Peak 17. I've heard its got a long and...adventurous job. He's fallen got low since his...forced retirement."

Marcus held back a chuckle, "No more than he deserves. How have you been Lorik?"

"I've seen better days. I do not enjoy this job, but I'm better suited to it than anyone else here," the turian replied, squaring his shoulders. An explosion rocked the building once more, followed by another coming from the western corridor, and shouts echoing down it. Cerberus must have breached it, "Suffice to say, I'm looking forward to retirement. This one will be forced too, but not quite as abrupt." At that moment Lorik looked very tired, and Marcus could understand why.  _With the war going on...the paperwork must be as high as his ceiling._

"As enjoyable as these pleasantries are Shepard, and I'd love to talk, but we've got alot of things to get doing. Like what to do about this evacuation and Cerberus," Jacob butted in, arms crossed, "They're coming through both entrances now, and while the blast doors in the East are thick, they won't last forever. We'll need to secure the west before reinforcing the East. If we're lucky, we can build sufficient force to push them back. Did you bring your squad?"

Marcus grinned, crossing his own arms, "I did more than that; having a united galactic force in the making has its advantages. I've brought an entire company of krogan commandos, six platoons of mercenaries, two being Blue Suns, another Eclipse and another Blood Pack, along with quite a sizable unit of rachni warriors, workers and brood warriors. Overall, I think we're going to kick some serious Cerberus ass. But we need to evacuate, and we need to do it now."

"Agreed," Lorik declared, moving back towards his office, "I'm going to sound the evacuation assembly. Once all are accounted for, we'll begin evacuation. Make it methodical."

"These three and myself will help," Marcus declared.

"As will I," Jacob declared, about to move forward when Marcus grabbed his shoulder, shaking his head.

"No, you need to go back to the Eastern Corridor and help hold it. We've got things covered down here."

Jacob shook his head, quick to object, "But I need to make sure Brynn and the others are-"

"We'll keep them safe. And I'll have Garrus keep a special eye on Brynn for you," he met the soldier's eyes, confidence radiating in their depths, "Trust me, I will not let any harm come to her or to them. Besides, we need them for the UGC and the Crucible."

"The Crucible?" Jacob asked, raising an eyebrow.

This time, he grabbed both of his shoulders, and smiled down at him, "We've found an ancient superweapon. We discovered the plans in the Mars Archives, and narrowly stopped the Illusive Man from acquiring them first. Hackett's named it the Crucible, and we're uniting every race we can to help build it. It was built with the sole purpose of destroying the Reapers. Do you see Jacob? We finish this weapon, we find the Catalyst, we beat the Reapers. The first cycle to do so. We can stop the cycles, once and for all."

Jacob seemed overwhelmed for a second, but quickly nodded, "The Illusive Man made them seem so unbeatable...inconquerable...but if the Crucible can destroy them..." he met Marcus' eyes and nodded, "If it means getting a chance to share my life with Brynn in peace, then all bets are on the table. Keep her safe," he rushed towards the eastern corridor, equipping this eviscerator as he moved, shouting behind him, "For victory!"

 _Victory at any cost. We fight or we die._ Marcus simply nodded, and turned away, moving to follow ERCS into the center of the Port, ready to provide riot control if panic set in.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1502 hours._

_Western Entrance, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

"Ha ha ha! Got her first!" Wrex cheered triumphantly, watching as his claymore shotgun tore the Cerberus Nemesis asunder, her mutilated body hitting the ground in a puddle of blood. He pumped the chamber again, shooting Grunt a smug grin.

The supersoldier, surrounded by five of his commandos, the rest having been spread out across the corridor, smiled back as he leapt up, shooting out his hand to grab a dragoon by the collar, pulling him up and over his cover and then smashing his claymore through his head three times, reducing his face to a pulpy mass of torn muscle and broken skull fragments. Turning, he picked up his body and tossed it at a moving guardian, forcing the soldier to stop to remove the body, only to expose himself long enough for a claymore shell to blast both legs off, and for a nearby Eclipse vanguard to finish him off with a warp. Pumping the slot, Grunt spun again, and took out two assault troopers, moving close together, with a single shot before crouching again, grinning back at Wrex, "Got four."

"Its on, welp," Wrex growled back, picking up his shotgun and standing up, firing point blank at a centurion attempting to climb over, his red blood splashing across Wrex's face and dripping between his teeth. Licking his lips dry of the human's warm blood, he sadistically turned to see a combat engineer trying to set up a turret, and ran over to him, bellowing his war cry.

The soldier saw him coming and raised his phalanx heavy pistol, managing to get off two shots before Wrex tackled him to the ground. Grabbing his head, rotating it so he was facing downwards, he smashed his face into the top of the turret. He turned to one of the Eclipse engineers nearby, shouting, "Hey! Hack into this turret and change its IFF enemy code to Cerberus."

The salarian did as ordered, and within seconds the turret was operating, turning to face an approaching Cerberus centurion, his mattock raised and a phantom moving at his side, although it thought Wrex couldn't see it with its cloak on. He'd spent enough time with Kasumi to tell.

Tossing the dead engineer aside, he moved forward and activated his omni-blade, moving forward and letting his shields absorb the centurion's fire. As he arrived, his shields burst and a shot grazed his side, the krogan simply ignoring it as he reached him, and sliced his omni-blade upwards...

...the mattock's barrel clattered to the ground, its interior red hot and glowing bright orange from the energy that just sliced it in half. The centurion simply dropped his useless weapon and moved for his stun batton, removing it from his hip and activating it, tapping Wrex on the side and sending an electric jolt through the krogan. But it was merely a tingle.  _Redundant systems, pyjak. My nervous system doesn't react to an electric shock unless its damn lightning._

The centurion moved to thrust it into his mouth, but Wrex merely grabbed his hand and violenty twisted it, breaking the bones in his wrist and causing him to drop the batton. With a jerk, Wrex dropped down and grabbed the batton, before then thrusting it forward with all his strength into the centurion's left armpit. It pierced through the skin, the soldier leaping backwards as blood spurted out, and then began to jerk about as he was violenty electrocuted. Eventually, his cybernetics began to short out, and just as Wrex turned to face the approaching phantom, which had now decloaked, he fell to the ground, the cybernetics keeping him alive now without power and blood still seeping from his ruined armpit.

The phantom sliced forward, but Wrex jumped back, watching it screech against the metal plating of his armor. He moved back towards the turret, and just as the phantom dove forward again, he moved forward as well, dodging the blade and grabbing the phantom by the back of her head. And without further hesitation, he stepped aside, twisted to face the turret...

...and  _impaled_ her head, mouth first, through the barrel of the turret. He watched in glee as the turret identified its target and fired, high velocity rounds blowing her skull out of the back of her head and sending bits of gore and blood flying for meters. The rounds continued, leaving little left of her decimated skull, and he simply sat there as blood and bone and eviscerated muscle dripped and hanged from the turret's barrel, the krogan taking her and tossing her away, allowing the turret to continue firing, taking with it next a squad of assault troopers led by a centurion.

Wrex turned to Grunt in time to watch three YMIRs supported by Eclipse engineers edge forward, their machine guns roaring and tearing into whatever Cerberus hostiles they could find. He watched one sniper round ping harmlessly off the YMIR's shields, draining them by half, but watched another take off the torso of one of the salarian engineers. Poor pyjak.

He laughed, the sight of him drenched in human blood looking almost demonic, he'd imagine, "Beat that, welp."

Grunt didn't even listen, simply grinning as he looked past the krogan chieftain, "I believe I've found one," and with that he sprinted forward, Wrex hearing one of the Blue Suns mercs cry out in warning before a bright flash filled his peripheral vision.

He turned in time to see one of the YMIR's explode, bits of debris raining down upon their forces, lifting two of Grunt's men off his feet and tossing one of the Eclipse engineers into a wall, his broken body falling to the ground, twisted at wrong angles. He watched another YMIR get torn to shreds, the third making a desperate last effort before falling itself. Wrex only needed to turn to see what had done it.

Two Atlases, raining death and destruction.

And Grunt just rushed right towards them.

"Woo-hoo!" he heard James shout over the din of combat, "Go Grunido! Kick their ass!"

"Don't encourage him!" Liara shouted back, "He's going to get himself killed!"

Kasumi appeared, beside her, knife embedded in the neck of a phantom that had been moving to decapitate Liara from behind. The asari nodded her thanks, before the thief disappeared again.

"There is a 50 percent chance that his attack will fail, and a 50 percent chance he will defeat both Atlases and inflict sufficient casualities on the enemy forces to survive," EDI stated, "I believe humans say 'he has a 50/50 chance of success.'"

"Not helping, EDI!" Liara shouted back, her SMG coughing as it hid a guardian's shield, before passing through the slit and splitting his head open, downing him.

"I do not understand how this does not reassure you," the AI replied, "I shall have to run a check on my emotion systems."

Wrex, while killing hordes of Cerberus troops, only watched as Grunt reached the first Atlases, absorbing its machine gun fire with a shield he wrenched from the hands of a guardian, who got killed by Wrex seconds later, holding the shield in one hand as he leapt onto the cockpit and laughed maniacally. Next, he smashed the shield through the cockpit, impaling the pilot and causing the Atlas to spin out of controls. And with the pilot still holding onto the weapons, that proved disastrous...for both sides.

Machine gun fire flew through the air, taking down a line of Blue Suns before spinning towards Cerberus, killing ten assault troopers, tearing the head from a dead dragoon and blowing apart another, eviscerating a Nemesis, and impacting the shields of the second Atlas, causing it to turn around. Rockets fired as well, explosions permeating along the corridor as Cerberus was blown to smithereens, Grunt letting go of his shield to grab hold of the rocket arm, making it aim properly.

The second Atlas took aim and fired with its rocket launcher, and the first Atlas disappeared in a cloud of smoke and debris as it was blown apart, toppling over, fire wracking its frame. But despite what would have killed a normal fleshie, Grunt erupted from the smoke, his skin charred and blackened, roaring as he entered a blood rage, pure hate and promises of destruction filling his eyes as he charged towards the second Atlas.

The pilot must have seen the hate in his eyes and panicked, trying to retreat as fast as he could in such a slow mech, firing at the krogan as he did. The bullets barely scatched the krogan as he reached him, ducking under his frame and taking aim with his claymore, rupturing the fuel tank. And with the second spread of the first shell, the fuel ignited, drenching the second Atlas in flame, and likely burning the pilot alive as the heat caused the glass to shatter.

From the smoke and ruin, Grunt emerged, a bigger grin on his face as he simply stepped on the face of a wounded assault trooper, crawling across the ground until Grunt's foot caved his skull in and pancaked it across the floor, the krogan supersoldier looking undefeatable. Without so much as ordering it, Grunt watched Aralakh Company push forward, the mercs close behind them, the rachni staying back as they weren't needed yet.

" _Mierda_ ," James exclaimed, slapping Grunt on the back and immediately regretting it as he winced from the heat still sitting on the krogan's skin, although Grunt barely seemed to feel it. When James recovered from the sting in his gauntleted hand, he laughed, "You kicked some serious ass.  _Two_ Atlases, all by yourself? Who needs the Crucible when you've got you? Harbinger should be pissing himself."

"He's alright..." Wrex grinned, "For a welp."

Grunt merely smirked back, squaring his shoulders as his skin rapidly changed back to normal colour, his faster than normal regeneration hard at work repairing his body, "And you're still in good shape, for an old man."

"Sorry to ruin the fun!" Kasumi shouted, deactivating her cloak as she finished running back from the Cerberus line, worry on her face, "But we really should seek cover!"

"Why?" Grunt chuckled, "More Atlases? Let them come! I'll turn them to scrap!"

"Not that!" Kasumi urged, reaching them just as Wrex saw multiple flashes from down the corridor, "They've got a gun-"

Wrex shielded Kasumi as multiple streaks of light hit the corridor all around them, sending up plumes of dust and debris as they tore up the ground, fire licking at Wrex's skin as he protected the little human thief from the flames. The attacks over, Wrex let go and turned, claymore raised...

...only to watch an A-67 Mantis Gunship, flying through the tight confines of the corridor, come to hover before them, chin-mounted gun tearing through whoever survived the twin blasts. Six of Grunt's krogan lay dead, as well as an entire platoon of Blue Suns and two thirds of another Eclipse platoon. They steadily fell back as the gunship continued its assault, giving time for Cerberus to regroup and push forward again.

Wrex prepared to engage when a chorus of screeches were heard, and everyone turned to the end of the corridor. There, a wreathing mass of red was moving,  _charging_ , towards the gunship. They watched as it then seethed across the walls, hundreds of tiny insects, all of them rushing towards their one goal; the gunship. And in tight quarters like this, it had nowhere to go.

The pilot saw them too late as the rachni workers all leapt at once, reminding Grunt of a seeker swarm as they swarmed upon the gunship. Its left wing practically disappeared as they landed, and they immediately swarmed all over the ship, covering it all from bow to rear. He heard the pilot scream as the workers entered his cockpit, red blood soaking the windows as the workers likely tore him apart, molecule by molecule, brutally and efficiently. Wrex winced, remembering what it must have been like for Council troops fighting the rachni during the Wars.  _Glad they're on our side this time._

The workers got into the rotors of the vehicle, using their intelligent little minds to completely jam them up and screw the internal workings. They clogged the engine, tore through cabling...they just watched the gunship swerve as its internal components were utterly annihilated by the meticulous worker swarm.

They finally all left the gunship, leaping off and onto the ground and all watching as the shredded gunship simply jerked backwards and into the ground, coming to a thunderous bang and skidding along the ground, crushing whatever poor Cerberus pyjaks stood behind it under its mass. Its wings caved, and when it finally stopped, its fuel ignited, and it went up in a pillar of flame, totally destroyed.

They could only cheer as the rest of the rachni troops swarmed forward, laying waste to the Cerberus forces. Their push was over. They watched as brood warriors biotically tackled dragoons to the ground and dissected them, arms first, then legs, then torsos, then heads, like a surgeon examining a body given for necropsy. Soldiers overran Cerberus troops all over; slicing assault troopers in half, workers devouring centurions, soldiers knocking aside guardian's shields to get at the person behind them, phantoms desperately trying to move only to be surrounded and melted by acid, and Nemesis' weapons reduced to nothing. They even watched an Atlas kill four soldiers before being swarmed and its pilot annihilated in an ocean of gore.

Wrex sighed, laughing at their inevitable victory.

Shepard wanted the Western Corridor secured, and they did just that.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1527 hours._

_Eastern Entrance, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor, Captain Maeko Matsuo._

Bang. Bang. Bang. On it went, a constant thrum, explosion after explosion, detonation after detonation, shouts for more explosives ever constant behind the blast door.

Up on the makeshift barricade, which was really just a stack of crates reinforced by torn steel beams and traversable by borrowed ladders, Captain Matsuo and her men stood, weapons steadied. Machine gun nests had been set up, but most of them were based on ancient technology such as the M4 Browning .50 Caliber Machine Gun, which hadn't seen service since the post-Second American Civil War period when they stopped making them pre-Jon Grissom expedition to Charon. But they were all they had, and they could still pack a punch, those Brownings.

With that said, it was funny seeing a turian and a salarian manning those human-made machine guns, weapons of which they bet thought were pretty damn primitive but what would come to appreciate their existence soon enough. Although, for ERCS, who helped build a large portion of the galactic weapons industry, you'd think they'd have more of their own weapons than those they didn't even own. Avenger assault rifles were Elkoss Combine manufactured. And the most rarest weapon in this place, a vindicator, was the only weapon actually made by Elanus Risk Control Services. The rarest weapon in an ERCS client facility. Would you believe it?

He wasn't going to complain though, and he held onto his 'rare' vindicator battle rifle with more clarity, looking down its sights carefully. There wasn't much to see but a massive set of 30 inch concrete blast doors, that were probably only now 15 inches, if the amount of explosions had done anything, but if, when, those doors burst, half a Cerberus division would come pouring through, and they'd have to hold the line.

Jacob snorted, eying his entourage.  _Yeah, a squad of ERCS guards who's only combat is mishandled thugs and people who didn't pay the bills. Don't heavily-armed soldiers with a fleet and enough artillery to level a small city._

He could see the fear in their eyes; the smell of sweat from the humans and asari, the subtle click of the mandible from the turians and the unique twitching of the salarians. They were all terrified, terrified of what they in store behind that store. They knew they'd all be dead soon, it was a given fact; Matsuo would give into no retreat, no surrender; she would hold this line, and all her men would follow her. That's what anchored them here, what kept them from fleeing like cravens; they were loyal, and that kept them where they needed to be, on the front lines.

As for Matsuo, she didn't flinch or twitch, and the only sweat she had was from building the barricade and killing the Cerberus soldiers from before. Her eyes marked their target, blankly looking into the thick doors as if to see Cerberus behind them, baiting them to make a move. She showed no fear, no compromise. She looked about as ready to die as could be. A hardass to be sure, but even most hardasses cracked. She didn't. And Jacob admired her.

Because for the first time since joining the Corsairs all those years ago, Jacob was afraid of death. Joining Cerberus didn't terrify him. Attacking the Collector Base didn't terrify him. Being chased by Cerberus and threatened with  _death_ hadn't been terrifying.

No, it was the thought of losing Brynn, of never being able to see her again, that had him sweating at the brow and ready to bolt. He trusted Shepard like a brother, knowing he'd keep her safe, but the same nagging feeling at the back of his head kept ordering him to go back to her, to protect her. But despite those feelings, he was too good of a soldier. The instincts were too ingrained. He held his post, and would never leave it until it fell.

He was that good of a soldier.

Which is why hearing Wrex's voice break through the comms feed brought relief to the deathly silence of men and women waiting for death, "This is Chieftain Wrex calling on the tightband, any pyjaks reading?"

The krogan sounded overly cheery. Jacob frowning, but seeing as Matsuo didn't plan on responding anytime soon, he picked up the comm, tapping his omni-tool, "This is Taylor, I read you Wrex. Why so happy? You sound like you just got the ultimate shotgun for Christmas."

"Close enough, actually," the krogan replied, the sound of cheering permeated in the background, "Just watching the rachni totally routing the enemy over here, that's all. Half of a division, if I'm counting correctly. You should see them running."

Jacob widened his eyes, but before he could respond, Marcus did, "Holy fucking shit, you're kidding! I knew the rachni would be effective, but holy shit!"

"Yep, tearing them apart. Even watched workers swarm onto and destroy a gunship. Should have seen it," Wrex sighed, "Anyway, Western Entrance is secure, and Cerberus is running. Funny, only half a division over here. The rest must still be trying to breach the East."

"Yes, but at least its only half of their original strength," Marcus responded, "Call the rachni back and set up a barricade. Have Grunt keep Aralakh Company there and take the squad, the rachni and the rest of the mercs to Matsuo to help reinforce it. Keep it secure. When Cerberus beat through, rinse and repeat. But don't get cocky. We've used our wildcard and Cerberus will know we have rachni now. They'll be extra careful. Keep them in reserve."

"Copy that," Wrex replied, "You got that, Taylor? We're on our way to you."

"Copy that. Taylor out," Jacob replied, disconnecting the comm as he grabbed at his vindicator again, turning to Matsuo, "Did you get-"

She didn't even turn towards him, "Ssshhhhhh."

He frowned, turning to the door. He was about to ask what the matter was when he realized something.

The explosions. The banging. It had stopped. All they could hear was the constant thrumming of an engine. A gunship? No, this corridor was narrower than the Western one, and that gunship would have barely fit in. What the hell was making that sound? Couldn't be a skycar, and an Atlas sounded nothing like that. What the fuck was it?

Whatever it was, it was getting louder.

"Brett!" Matsuo shouted, her human engineer turning towards her, "What the hell is that sound?"

"I don't know..."

"Then check!" Matsuo ordered. Then she stopped, "Actually, belay that order. Check the thickness of that door."

He frowned at her, as did Jacob, "Ma'am?"

Jacob halted him, confused, but wanting to see where Matsuo was going with this as he left his post, approaching Matsuo's side, "Just do what she says, Brett."

He sighed, nodding as he brought up his omn-tool and ran a scan of the blast door. When he was finished, he put his omni-tool away, shrugging, "Its about 10 inches. Cerberus needs to reach 6 to successfully breach it. That'll take another ten minutes."

"I don't like it," Matsuo shook her head, "I don't like it at all. Not a scent of it. That engine...its all wrong. We need to be prepared for it."

She turned to Jacob, giving him a hard gaze, "Get back to the Port, inform Shepard we've got a situation and to halt those reinforcements until we can assess what it is."

Jacob nodded, rushing down the stairs to the bottom and beginning to sprint.

Just as he got 30 meters however, he heard Matsuo call out to him again, stopping him in his tracks and causing him to turn.

"Yeah?" he shouted back.

"Tell Shepard to begin evacuation. I don't think we can hold this barricade," Matsuo ordered, resting her rifle against her shoulder, "Me and my men will be right behin-"

A thunderous clap shattered the silence, the sound of concrete bursting and people screaming. He watched the crates of the barricade get rendered asunder as they were crushed, the steel beams holding them tossed aside. The ladders snapped, and the soldiers manning the brownings were crushed before they knew what they hit them.

Jacob could only watch as the M36 Megalodon heavy tank/troop carrier blew through the blast door, shattered the barricade and crushed Matsuo under its tracks, her blood vomitting across the floor as her carcass was totally pancaked. The massive tracks of the vehicle continued, the vehicle looking akin to a 21st Century M1A1 Abrams Tank, but with a shorter barrel, twin machine guns in the turret, a mortar launcher on the back, kinetic barriers and covered in the white and gold of Cerberus, its insignia plastered on the side.

As he watched assault troopers, centurions, phantoms and the lot burst from behind it, a shot clipping his side before he realized his shields were gone, and he winced in pain as blood dripped from the wound in his side. But even as he looked up and began to run, he froze once more, seeing a figure he thought he'd never see again.

There, standing onto of the top, sneering at him, his katana in one hand and black hair flowing down his neck, Cerberus insignia plastered on the left breast of his black armor, was Kai Leng. And his sneer turned into a snarl, and then into a smile upon seeing Jacob.

And this time, he ran. He raised a biotic barrier to protect himself, running as fast as he could while hitting the comm to Shepard, "Shepard! Shepard, come in! The Eastern Corridor is breached! They've got a Megalodon tank! And Leng is with them! Do not come here! I repeat,  _DO NOT COME!_ Seal off the corridor!"

He just hoped his pleas were heard.

**"Keelah...what did you do?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"We evacuated. And I mourned. Me, Garrus, Kasumi, Wrex...we all mourned."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**I'm a dark motherfucker, aren't I? Nah, I've only just begun. Hehehehe.** _

_**I actually had alot of fun writing this chapter, especially writing the rachni attacking the gunship. I could just picture it in my head...the things we all wanted from ME3, but never got. Abuse of war assets, baby! And this is nothing like what I've got planned for the final battle! These are just some of the assets fighting together! Imagine when THEY ALL fight together!** _

_**Fuck yeah!** _

_**Anyway, I'm doing the next part (not very soon) and then I'll be doing Chapter 2 for A Draconis Dierum Saeculi (I'm just going to call it ADDS for short or Wardens and a Throne). I'm still not decided on the interim, as I'm pretty you'd like a split before delving into the awesome, and depression, of Tuchanka. What do you guys think? Intermission chapter? Let me know in your review.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	25. Ice Cold Change, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Cerberus begins to break through their lines and the Reapers turn up, the window for extracting the defecting scientists is closing fast. However, Leng is unwilling to let them go without a price.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:**

**ICE COLD CHANGE PART TWO**

_June 19, 2186_

_1530 hours._

_Eastern Entrance, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Operative Kai Leng._

He watched as Taylor, the traitor, turned his back on him and began to run for his life, cradling his injured side. His men moved to pursue, but he held up one hand, halting them from doing so. When they seemed to be moving to question him, he simply and bluntly answered, "He's mine to kill. Kill the scientists, but I shall finish what Sand failed to do."

Slowly and steadily, the M36 Megalodon heavy tank moved forward, its tracks crushing every under it, its heavy turret scanning the tunnel ahead for anything to kill; ignoring the slowly decreasing size of Taylor's form running away. Behind him, the rest of the division and Leng's reserves from the Peak facilities trailed behind it in siege formation, Assault Troopers up front, a dozen Atlases on the flank, and a company of phantoms at the rear.

Even as Kai Leng sheathed his katana, he knew the battle ahead would be fierce.  _It would be appear Shepard is here after all. Good. That will make this all the more sweet. I'll be able to kill the traitor and Shepard all at once. And maybe his pathetic little squad as well. Especially the asari. That bitch had me running from city to city. She had agents chase me everywhere. But not anymore. I'll slit her throat and gut her, the fucking cow._

"What do you want us to do sir?" one of his centurions asked beside the tank, "We're 600 meters from the Port itself."

"Kill everything," Leng coldly replied, "Every single living that isn't bearing a Cerberus insignia is dead. Every single one. Men, women..." he narrowed his eyes, breathing in as he nodded, "...and the children. The scientists are your top priority, so make finding them absolutely your first objective. I will deal with Taylor, and then Shepard. Kill everyone and everything and leave no survivors. Shoot shuttles out of the sky, if need be."

The centurion nodded calmly, unfazed by Leng's cold orders, "Yes sir. Everything dead, sir."

Leng only watched the corridor up ahead, its exit slowly creeping towards them as the Megalodon inched forward, its heavy gun ready to blow a hole in whatever blast door they put up, twin heavy machine guns ready to tear through any sandbags or barricade they erect, and mortars ready to destroy whatever tanks they have, if any.

Then he realized something.  _Shepard isn't stupid, even if he is very cozy with all the alien scum. He'll know we'll be coming thanks to Taylor, and will have it well defended. And if the same forces that defended the West are there, then we'll be annihilated again, big fucking tank or no. What we need is a silent flanking manoeuvre. One they will not notice or counter._

Leng entered deep thought, thinking of what areas they could enter through that weren't already attempted.  _The Western Corridor is well defended, already heading down the Eastern Corridor, Southern Corridor is collapsed and North is shut off. That leaves...the garage._

Yes, the garage would do nicely. Yes, it only had one path, towards Peak 15, but a gunship could override that. All he needed was a small platoon to do it with, nothing extravagant. With Matsuo dead, ERCS would be in disarray, meaning the garage would be meekly defended. With that in mind, Leng suddenly spun on the spot, jogging over to the rear of the vehicle as he yelled, "The rest of you will assault the Port with the tank! I will take a platoon to the garage in a gunship and launch a flanking attack!" With that said, he quickly chose the platoon he wanted; majority assault troopers, one centurion commander, five guardians and three phantoms. All he needed. Bringing any Atlases would draw too much attention.

With grace and speed only someone else with cybernetics could match, he leapt from the side of the massive tank, coming to land fluidly on the ground, bringing his sword back to bear as he rushed along the side and out of the way of his moving army, strafing along the wall as he moved to the back, seeking his unit.

It took a few minutes, but his force finally moved by, leaving just the platoon sized group he had asked for.  _Good. Shepard won't know what hit him until it already has._ He nodded to them, motioning for them to follow closely behind him, the assassin himself crouching down low with his phantoms and moving over to a door on the left; a maintenance door. Those maintenance corridors ran the length of Port Hanshan, and would take them straight to the garage.

He turned to his squad with a cold thinning of his lips, motioning to his centurion to open the door, "Get in there and follow closely behind me. Do not open fire until I order it; any guards, you leave them to me and the phantoms. We must execute this quietly." With a long row of nods from his soldiers, he turned back to the door, watching as the centurion slowly opened it, scanning the area ahead with his mattock. Satisfied no hostiles awaited them, he turned to Leng with a nod.

Kai Leng moved without a sound, rapidly and without response as he entered the darkness of the corridor, as all power had been diverted to necessital systems due to the Cerberus attack and to keep power running on essential terminals and routers. This did not matter to Leng, as his eye implants had built in infrared, and night vision. Switching the latter on, he crept through the darkness, his men doing the same with their own eye implants and together, they moved towards the garage.

And onto victory.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1542 hours._

_Area outside the Administrator's Office, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Administrator Lorik Qui'in._

"Please, do not panic! Keep a calm head and proceed single file into the dock!" He heard Keeling call out, her Valkyrie in lower parry as she waved people into the dock single file, Garrus on the other side assisting her. Men, women and children moved through, huddled and terrified, others keeping an air of calm about them, as if totally unfazed by the events around them, but Marcus could tell fake bravado anywhere; they did to themselves to assure themselves they'd be alright. Whatever kept the peace in this evacuation was fine by him. Last thing he needed was a stampede.  _That wouldn't end well for anyone._

A mother and her child, still a baby and clasping onto her chest, approached him weerily, Keeling trying to get her back into line but failing as she seemed focused solely on Marcus. She stopped half a meter infront of him, tears streaking down her face, "Are we going to be okay? I heard Cerberus was attacking but I...I don't know...can you even promise that we'll get out of here?"

Before Javik could say something pessimistic, Marcus looked down at her, smiling as he nodded, "I promise that you and your child will get out of here, both of you, alive. I won't let Cerberus hurt any of you. I would die before I let that happen."

The mother seemed immediately calmed by that, and she spun around, shouting to the others, "Did you hear that!? Commander Shepard said he'd get us out alive! We're going to be okay!" She looked to be ready to continue her shouting, but stopped when her baby began a resounding wail, eyes tearing and clearly overwhelmed by her mother's shouting. The woman quickly stopped and went back to soothing her child, trying to calm her down as she shot him one more smile before returning to line, Keeling easing her through and into the dock, where she would be evacuated.

Marcus sighed, removing his helmet and pinning it under one arm as he wiped his brow, sweat collecting there, despite the below 0 temperatures that Noveria provided. To get warm and hot and bothered on this snowball of a planet was likely getting frostbite on Therum. But it wasn't the sweat, it was just the sheer load of people they had to evacuate.

It turned out not to be very many and, despite his expectations, he really couldn't be surprised, or shouldn't be, at least.

News of the war would have hit Noveria early on, and many would have evacuated merely out of the knowledge of being so close to the frontlines. It came as no surprise that Noveria's population would be so small, especially at the conflict's apex. Marcus was simply glad for it; the less people to evacuate, the easier it would go. And soon they could leave; abandon Port Hanshan, and hopefully escape before Cerberus broke through the Eastern Corridor or got reinforcements.

"This evacuation is going along faster than expected," Lorik noted, gaining Marcus' attention as he twisted on the spot to face the well-dressed turian, now sporting a brief case with all his possessions, "Even with the small population, I thought it would take much longer. It seems we might get out of here before Cerberus arrives."

Marcus noted the ERCS guards throughout the Port, all of them easing the line along. They had the occassional deserter who tried to mingle with the crowd, the occassional coward who attempted to surrender, but they didn't get far, and a large majority of the guards actually stood their ground and did their jobs. In all honesty, Marcus couldn't expect absolute allegiance from ERCS security; they were guns-for-hire, little else. Not special forces or marines, just ordinary ERCS employees on the pay roll. Desertion and cowardice was just a couple of things on the list of things to be expected from them.

Marcus nodded, exhaling, watching as he could see the air from his lungs flow out like smoke. Come to think of it, he did feel a bit chilly, even with his armor's thermal systems at full bore.  _They must have rerouted power from the Port's heaters to main power. That, or to power the shuttle's power cells. Doesn't matter. Getting a bit cold is the least of our worries._

"Agreed. It would be nice for once for us to get out without being under fire. Makes a nice change," the captain stated, frowning, "Its odd though. There's been no update from Jacob or Matsuo. What's keeping them?"

Lorik shrugged, "Probably nothing to report."

"Jacob's a soldier and so am I. That's not how military operations work. You report anything, even if its just the peace. Silence can tell alot, especially if it means all enemy movement has halted or they've fallen back," he shook his head, licking his lips, "I don't like it. I'll give them three minutes. Besides, Wrex and his men are on their way there now, so we should find out soon."

"Then we get to getting out of here," Lorik breathed, dropping his brief case as he hugged himself, rubbing his arms, "Spirits must be angry with me, because its freezing."

"Its Noveria, what did you expect?" Marcus jested, chuckling.

Lorik sighed, shaking his head, "Could have at least kept the heaters on."

Marcus shook his head, responding as he pointed to the lights up above, "Cerberus cut power from the main and backup generators. This place is running on fumes, and pretty soon, all power will be gone. The scientists are doing what they can, rerouting power to more important systems. Defenses are gone, and so are the heaters."

"What's...next...then?" Lorik chittered, the spasmodic movements of his teeth quite comical.

"After that, the lights," Marcus then gave him a grim look, "Then, ventilation. Eventually, if Cerberus doesn't leave, this place will not only become an ice cube, it'll start to frost. Eventually, they'll die of the subzero temperatures. Basically freeze to death. I keep forgetting how much this planet is like Antarctica back on Earth. Too much like it, actually. I hate strong heat, but damn, I'd take it anytime of the week over this."

"Good poi-" Lorik began, only to be cut off by a loud, familiar and strained voice.

"Shepard!" Jacob shouted, Marcus and Lorik turning to see Jacob jogging down to him, looking like he was cradling...his side...

Marcus could see the little stains of red that dropped from Jacob's side, and as he came closer, the man's bloodstained fingers. Jacob had been shot...or stabbed, one or the two. What alerted him was  _how_ that happened.  _Has Cerberus broken through?_

Marcus held a hand up for Jacob to stop, who looked to be out of breath. Behind him, quickly approaching, was Wrex and the rest of the squad, along with all the remaining mercenaries and rachni.

Jacob seemed to get control of his breathing, wincing as he spoke as it sent ripples through his bullet wound, "Damn it...Shepard, we need reinforcements right now. Cerberus has broken through, and they've overwhelmed our garrison there. Smashed the blockade. They've got a M36 Megalodon tank, and seem to have reinforcements. They breached with alot more than half a division."

Marcus held a hand up for Jacob to slow down, and when the soldier was finished, he grasped his left shoulder, "How many dead? Jacob, where's Captain Matsuo?"

Jacob gulped, looking down at the ground solemnly, with a tinge of sadness, before looking back up and shaking his head, "Everyone at the garrison is gone. Including Matsuo. I watched the tank smash her from the barricade and crush her before she could crawl away. But Shepard, there's something else you should kn-"

As Marcus came to terms with the declaration of Matsuo's death, a worried, female voice cried out from behind him, "Jacob! Have you been shot!?"

As they turned, they watched a dark-skinned woman with raven black hair, kind eyes and quite hulky frame, considering her pregnant belly, hobble forward, going as fast as she could to reach Jacob. When she finally reached him, she seemed to instantly check his wound, Jacob crying out as she prodded it.

"I'm fine, Brynn, damn it," he winced as she poked it again, shoving her fingers away and covering it again, "I'll walk it off. All I need is some medi-gel, and I'll be fighting again."

"Oh no you won't be," Brynn declared, applying enough medi-gel to his wound to stem the bleeding and give him some relief from the pain. She stood up, cradling his face with her hands, "I'm not letting you go back out there to get yourself killed. Its too risky, especially with that wound of yours."

"Sorry Brynn, not your choice or mine," Jacob stated, nodding to the captain behind her, "I've got a duty to finish, to the Captain and to the people here. When they're safely away, maybe then I'll put down my gun. But not till then."

Brynn growled, taking her hands frustratingly, "You stubborn fool! Idiot! You'll get yourself killed with that attitude!"

"Hasn't in the past," Jacon grinned, squaring his shoulders, "It won't now." Suddenly, however, his grin vanished, and he turned to Marcus, worry in his eyes, "Shepard, there's something you should know."

"Not now Jacob," he stated, unholstering his rifle, "If Cerberus is on the way, we've got to speed up the evacuation."

"But its important, damn it!" the man shouted over him, and before he could object further, he spoke, "Kai Leng is here! He was with the force breaching the barricade!"

That caused the spectre to freeze in his tracks, and he turned to face Jacob slowly, regarding him coldly. He spoke again, ice lacing his tone, "Leng is here? Should have figured the Illusive Man would send his attack dog. He's probably here for the scientists...and you."

Jacob nodded, creasing his face, "That's the only reason he's here; the Illusive Man doesn't send Leng unless its to assassinate somebody, or multiple people, that he  _really_  wants silenced. Its no surprise he's sent Leng."

He cursed, stroking his stubble absentmindedly. He turned back, hands on his hips, "Did you get a good look at where he was? Leng won't join the head assault, its not like him. He'll hide at the back, or maybe use the vents. I don't know. Jacob, did you see where he was headed?"

He shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. Last I saw, he was ontop of that tank. Didn't seem him move from it. But he most definitely has, that's for sure."

"If he's here for us, he won't get us," Brynn stated firmly, patting Jacob on the shoulder, "Someone has to delay him while we get away."

"While  _everyone_ gets away," Lorik replied, narrowing his eyes at her, "Let's not get too selfish. You'll be evacuated just like everyone else."

Marcus nodded, turning to Brynn, "With that said, you're still an asset I'm unwilling to lose. Javik, keep an eye on Brynn and the scientists...you too, James. Keep them safe and if you so much as see a flash of black or steel, inform us. We'll come in guns blazing. I happen to want Leng dead for my own reasons."

"Care to explain?" Lorik asked, raising an eyebrow at Marcus' sudden look of hate and rage.

The man turned to him, creasing his lips, "Its personal, Lorik. Very personal. First chance I get, I'm going to rip his head from his shoulders. He's caused alot of pain for someone...very close to me. My aunt, of all things."  _I still haven't forgotten what you did to her husband, you slimy scumbag. I'll snap your stupid fucking sword in half and flay your face off with the broken blade before smashing your skull over a rock._ Never had Marcus felt such hatred for a man before, such disgust. It was almost unlike him.  _I don't want Balak dead nearly as much as Leng, and I've known the former far longer._

Kasumi broke the tension, clearing her throat as she came to stand beside Wrex, her omni-tool out and seeming to very fixated on it, "Up, Shep...don't mean to ruin your moment of anger or anything, but I think I might have just found destination-of-vengeance for you. Himself and a large group of signatures just triggered one of the alarms in the maintenance corridors in the Eastern block."

Marcus moved over to her, looking over her shoulder at the map she had up, "How do you know its him?"

Kasumi raised an eyebrow at him, "Really, Shep? They've all Cerberus IFFs, his is pinging as a Phantom-class IFF, he's running faster than a normal human should, and he's not with the main force, just you said he wouldn't be. Who else could it be? Santa Clause? I bet he's going to find plenty of chimneys up there."

He nodded, "Good point. Number of signatures points to platoon-size, so nothing our squad alone can't handle, but I'm going to bring one Eclipse platoon just in case. The main threat is Leng, he's a very skilled combatant and he's ex-N7, so that'll make him even more dangerous. But I don't want to engage him in close-quarters. He'll be right at home in there. We need to get him out in the open," he turned to Kasumi, "Where is he headed?"

The thief trailed a finger along it, and then perked up when she found his destination, "Ah! Shep, considering the corridor he's taking, he'll arrive in the Hanshan garage."

Marcus, taking what he knew about his destination, discovered all too well what Leng was planning.  _He's hoping we'll be too concentrated on fighting back the bulk of his troops to notice him sneaking around. His platoon will flank, while he breaks off, finds the scientists, and kills them. It would be smart, if wasn't so predictable. Yet again, this guy is dumb as dog shit, so it comes as no great revelation._ He slapped Kasumi on the shoulder, turning to the squad, "Excellent. Wrex, you're relieved of command, you," he pointed to one turian ERCS guard standing...well, guard, "Take command of waving the civilians into the dock. Keeling, Garrus, Javik, rejoin the squad, I'm taking command," he quickly commed his radio, "Eclipse Odyssey Platoon, meet me in the garage. Kasumi, how long do we have until he gets there?"

"Just over ten minutes," the thief replied.

"Great," Marcus replied, gathering the squad, "Now this is what we're going to do..."

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1554 hours._

_Hanshan Garage, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Operative Kai Leng._

He rounded the corner and arrived at the door; just above, he could read the bold lettering that read 'HANSHAN GARAGE' in red. He lowered himself back into a crouch, readying his cloak. He was no fool; if a guard heard them approaching, he'd be ready, cloaked and everything. In position, he twisted his head to the centurion, nodding to the door.

The soldier did as ordered and opened it, his mattock scanning the area ahead.

"Clear," he whispered and the rest of the door opened, the centurion combat rolling across the concrete ground to hide behind a parked Grizzly tank, waving the rest of them on. Leng inched forward, keeping his balance steady and eyes and ears sharp, honing them to keep an eye on anything around them. Behind followed the assault troopers, also in crouch, then his five guardians, and finally his phantoms, their swords out and heads checking the room around them.

It was dead silent, and the lights were still on, which meant there was still sufficient power to keep them running. Crates littered the room throughout, along with numerous vehicles parked here and there. He even sported a civilian version of the Mako; a larger version of the vehicle, more armoured and with the turret obviously removed. About six of them occupied the left side, all parked and facing the opposite wall. Cold air spewed from the vents in the ceiling, breathing their essence down into the garage. All was quiet.

And there wasn't a single guard.  _Probably weren't expecting us to use this route. Blizzard outside would have made exterior entry impossible._

He came to crouch infront of the centurion, and his eyes scanned the area ahead. Not a lifeform to be found. The air was still due to the silence, and the only sound to be heard was the faint hiss of cold air from outside occassionally blasting down the vents and into the room, little snow flakes and pieces of frost coming to land on the ground.

It was quiet enough to assume there was noone here. If there was, there weren't many and could be dispatched quietly.

"Move forward. Centurion first, guardians next. Assault troopers, hold the flanks, phantoms, with me." Like clockwork, it moved. His centurion moved out quickly, shouldering his mattock against his armoured shoulder as he constantly scanned the area ahead, followed by the guardians taking up their shields, keeping their talons aimed high. Three troopers on each side moved up, and Leng followed quickly behind, his phantoms behind him, single file.

Meter by meter, they moved towards the entrance to the garage, not a single cry of alarm or movement. It made Leng feel uneasy. None of it felt right...

Suddenly, his ears picked up movement, quiet to the normal hearing but his enhanced hearing picked up easily. Turning, he heard a hiss in the air, followed by one of the troopers on left flank dropping his mattock and collapsing to the ground, red blood oozing from a bullet hole in his head. Their movement halted, and his men formed a circle around him; centurion at the front, guardians at the left and right, troopers at the back, phantoms with him in the middle. They weren't alone.

And with the same clockwork as his men, the shots came.

A sniper rifle coughed and one of the heads of his left guardian exploded in a shower of gore, his blood splattering across Leng's face and some of it dripping into his mouth. He spat it out in disgust, ignoring the tangy copper taste, wiping his mouth and preparing his palm-cannon.

In an instant, three of his assault troopers just fell, riddled with bullets. Followed by the other three.

A krogan roar, and the centurion disappeared, his head looking like crushed fruit as the creature he recognized as Urdnot Wrex stomped his head in and then retreated, his claymore stopping the guardians from returning fire.

He watched his guardians try to break the trap they'd set for themselves, only for their shields to suddenly be yanked away from them from both sides simultaneously, what followed being a lot of shredded bodies falling to the ground, their chest potmarked with the bullet holes of SMGs. After that, all that remained was his phantoms.

All but four got their cloaks up in time, including Leng, but one was not so lucky, a rod of molten energy superheating her sword to the degrees of Therum before it then melted, liquid metal pouring from the ruined blade, some of it landing on her foot and causing her to scream as it hissed and burnt. Her agony was ended when a precise shot from a Valkyrie impacted her helmet, her head yanking back as she fell to the ground.

As Leng gritted his teeth and began to strafe, he came to one realization.  _This was a trap. An ambush. They knew I was coming._

"Where did they go?" one salarian cried out, and he saw a flash of orange. Leng grinned.  _Eclipse. Shepard sends toy soldiers to kill me. How pitiful. They've had their fun, now its my turn,_ "Is that all of them?"

"No it isn't," came a feminine voice from behind him, and he twisted in time to see her materialize, driving her knife into mid-air and watching red blood burst seemingly from nowhere to drench the ground. Wrenching the knife out, she dropped down and sweeped the cloaked phantom's legs out from under, spun around and drove the knife into her stomach, finishing her off.

Leng's response was swift and brutal. Moving forward, he deactivated his cloak as he lashed out, sweeping her own feet out from under her until she collapsed on her back, knocking the wind from her. Sneering, he spun back to face her, the thief looking up at him with wide eyes.

A shot bounced off his shields, a sniper round judging the impact. He spun to see a turian with a sniper rifle, reloading with extreme speed and firing again, the shot beating his shields into nothing, "Get the fuck away from her!"

Without looking, he brought up his blade and prepared to bring it down, savouring the terror and rage he saw in the turian he identified as Garrus Vakarian's eyes.

He suddenly found himself yanked off his feet as he was tackled to the ground, a gigantic form pinning him to the ground.

He spun to face his aggressor, Wrex growling as he stood and moved to shoot him in the chest. Leng snarled, not giving him the chance to depress the trigger as he lunged forward and plunged his blade deep into Wrex's midsection, and then pulled back out, orange blood coating his blade as he rolled away. He knew the krogan would be barely fazed by it and would simply regenerate, but it at least stunned him long enough for Leng to escape.

He came to stand just as the body of one of his phantoms thumped to the ground infront of him, a shotgun hole in her chest. He spun to face, an Eclipse soldier, who quickly whorled to face him. But Leng barely gave him the chest, running forward and bringing his palm cannon to aim, firing at point blank and watching meaty chunks and bony fragments of the man's head exploded backwards and his body toppled from the blast.

Two more mercs charged at him, biotics bared. He knocked the first warp field aside with his barrier, but dodged the other, throwing himself to the side as he fired his palm-cannon once more, hitting dead center; blowing out the man's kneecap and reducing it to a pulp, before slicing his blade down and half-decapitating the salarian, his head hanging off the thin piece of flesh that was left of his neck before snapping off, rolling along the ground trailing green blood. Bringing his blade back up, he thrusted it through the injured one's mouth, finishing off both.

He turned to see the prothean freak and an N7 woman approach him, rifles raised and ordering him to surrender. He merely grinned, and charged, bringing up his barrier to deflect their shots.

He reached the prothean first, bashing his blade into his weapon, knocking it aside before spinning and hooking him across the head, sending the warrior sprawling across the ground. He turned to face the woman, but she had already holstered her weapon, bringing her omni-blade to bear and entering a fighting stance.

"You fight with these alien scum," he spat, "You're just as dirty as them, in that case. Filthy. An abomination."

Keeling rolled her eyes, keeping her blade at the ready, "Why don't you stop bleating and actually fight. I care not for your words, only the dance."

"You want a fighting dance?" he grinned wickedly, "So be it." And with that, he pivoted his foot and shot out a side kick with such unbelievable speed that Keeling couldn't deflect it in time, sending her backwards and blowing the air from her. Swiping his blade downwards, he was convinced he had her beat but then she dove to the left, and sliced her omni-blade onto his katana...

...which, to her surprise, held, the blade not melting through the katana as she thought it would. He saw her eyes widen, and he looked up at her, bringing his blade back as she kept her professionalism, quickly and swiftly pulling back and activating her second omni-blade, eying cautiously.

He sneered at her with a look of pure hate, "My blade isn't a normal katana; its made of a special alloy called axyclocorbite, only found on dextro worlds. Its the only metal that can deflect any type of heat without vaporizing. Even omni-blades can't penetrate it."

Keeling didn't even look impressed, only grinning, "Oh, from a dextro world, is it? How...alien. Very scummish, you would say. What do you say Leng, think you're a bit of a...what is it you called me? Ah yes, you're a bit of a filthy abomination."

He roared in anger at the insult and charged forward, only for her to dive aside and move to slice through his head, only for him to supernaturally dive his head back up, the twin blades slicing through a few of his hairs, cutting them short with a hiss. He got back up, spun back to face her, and realized that she had been verbally setting a trap. A taunt.  _Clever bitch. Note to self: do not let her bait you again. When she dives, slice into her abdomen, rip up, cut out her heart. Then we'll see who laughs._

"Keeling," came a familiar voice that sent tingles down Leng's frame, and it was at that moment he realized all his phantoms were dead, all lying on the ground in heaps as he took his eyes from Keeling, who had turned away from him, "Back away. He's mine."

He turned to face the approaching form, who was fast walking towards him, nothing in his hands but a stun batton. When Leng looked up, he saw a look of pure hatred, disgust and need to  _kill._  He stared back into the eyes of the approaching Marcus Shepard, cracking his neck as he waited.  _I've waited for this moment. The chance to kill Shepard. Now I have it._

He assumed a battle stance, blade behind him and ready to swing. He prepared his palm-cannon behind his back, charging it as Marcus approached, words of vehemence and rage pouring from his mouth.

"I've waited awhile to do this. Unfortunately, you fled like a fucking craven on Sur'Kesh, so I couldn't then. But now I have you," he spat, and began to charge, "And I will fucking  _rip your head off!"_

In that instant, Leng brought his palm, smiling...

...only to cry out as Marcus reached him. The spectre had known what Leng was about to do and brought up his shock batton, thrusting it into Leng's open hand and activating it. Electricity danced around his wrist before dying as Marcus tore it out, red blood spitting from his hand and cannon sizzling. It had been destroyed, and was now of no use to him.  _Just the blade then._

Marcus continued his movement, unrelenting. Leng brought his blade down, forcing Marcus to leap back, before doing so again, forcing him further back. He moved to lunge his sword forward, but Marcus strafed, and before he could follow it up, Leng rolled forward out of his reach, spinning on his heel to face him before he counterattacked. But Marcus only watched, analyzing his attack pattern, looking for a weakness. Leng only grinned.  _He will find none._

"You fight like a schoolyard bully, Shepard," Leng taunted, using similiar tactics to Keeling, "All words and brute force, but a pathetic fighter all the same. Killing you will be easy, and then I will find that suit-rat of yours as well and kill her."

"Don't talk of Tali that way," he muttered back, regarding him coldly as they circled each other, "She's down more than in your entire pathetic lifespan. You're just a dog, Leng. A pathetic, whimpering, sick little dog who's master wants it to keep being the guard dog, but knows you're failing. A reject, a racist retard in denial, a fuckwit with no meaning."

"What, just like your...suit-rat?" Leng replied, unfazed by Shepard's words, "Tell me, what do you two talk about? How alike you are? Does she have mandibles, or claws? Tell me this; how do you live yourself knowing you bedded a creature who isn't even human? As a Jew, how does that make you  _feel?_ God must be very disappointed in you."

"He wouldn't care," Marcus growled, "But he would  _love me_ if I ended your sickening little life."

"Your God is as fake as your self-reassurance!" Leng snapped back, spittle flying from his mouth, "Your quarian is nothing but a rat...a rodent looking for excess food and just happened to find pity in one little human in too much denial to think. You're ill, Shepard. And the only cure is for me to find your suit-rat, flay her pretty little face, and then cut her head off before mailing it to-"

Leng didn't even have time to react as Marcus seemingly teleported infront of him, he was that fast, and Leng gasped as he felt electricity shoot through his chest, Marcus ramming the bat into his chest, before rearing it back.

_"You...!"_

He hit him again, more electricity moving through his body like fire.

_"Don't...!"_

Again, this time in his face, blood spitting from his mouth and nose, his nose broken from the blow as he felt fire fill his face from the electric flow jerking through his skull.

_"Get...!"_

He shot his foot down into Leng's knee, Leng crying out as it jerked back, but biting down any whimper.

_"To...!"_

In rapidfire, Marcus hit him in the chest four times with the batton, driving the last of Leng's oxygen from his lungs.

_"TALK ABOUT..._ _**HER!"** _

Leng growled, ignoring the shock in his body to meet Marcus' eyes as his hands snaked around the back of his head, Marcus' eyes still too enraged to be surprised at the assassin's resilience, " _Too late._ I already did."

His head shot forward, connecting with Marcus' with enough force to send him reeling back, giving Leng time to snatch up his blade, spin around and thrust it forward.

He had been aiming for the heart, but Marcus managed to deflect it with his hands, causing it to slice through his hip instead. Leng made sure to drive it all the way in, causing an involuntary grunt to pour from Marcus' lips.

" _Just fucking die,_ " Leng snarled in his face, but all he got was a smile from Marcus, causing him to frown.

"Didn't you get the memo?" He leaned in, whispering, " _I have a slight issue with that_."

His fist flashed across Leng's face, sending him reeling back and his hands laxed from the grip on his blade, causing him to fall face first onto the ground, bruising beginning to form around his left eye. Thanks to his cybernetics, he barely felt it, merely stunned as he turned to face Marcus who, with the blade still inside him, moved over and rose his foot, ready to bring it down to crush Leng's windpipe.

 _Another time Shepard. I will kill you another time._ He rolled out of the way as the foot connected with the ground, reaching up and pulling the blade out of Shepard, watching the man cry out as he fell forward, blood pouring from the open wound. He hit his cloak as fire impacted his position, running as fast as he could and double checking his cloak was on before disappearing into the maintenance corridor. Once inside, he thrusted his blade into the control console and pulled it out, locking down before running back down the corridor, engaging his night vision as he sprinted, running and running, feeling pain begin to flare up in his body.

He remembered just how violent Shepard had gotten when he had begun to insult the suit-rat, and realized that the quarian's death was the key to ending Shepard.

Leng, despite his wounds, smiled.

Find the quarian, and kill her, and Shepard is finished.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1613 hours._

_Main Bridge, Macedonia-Class Battleship CAW Atlanta HD-7, Cerberus Blockade over Noviera, Pax System, Horsehead Nebula._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Fleet Admiral Ronald Tiberius, Captain Acacio Drakos._

Tiberius didn't like having to make the Atlanta his flagship, but the current state of the Nanga Parbat meant it was no longer fit for that duty. But luckily for him, the Atlanta was a battleship, and there was two more like it within the same fleet. It wasn't the same artillery that the dreadnought had, but it wasn't far behind; one MAC gun, 42 GARDIAN turrets, dozens of pulse lasers, 28 javelin torpedo bays, and numerous missile launch stations and gattling guns. Overall, the Atlanta and all the others of the Macedonia-Class battleships were spacebound fortresses.

Still, watching the Nanga Parbat from the viewscreen was a depressing view; it always was when an admiral had to transfer flagships; their first was their pride and joy, and to see it as the battered wreck that it currently was horrible to see.

Currently, the Third Fleet was divided. Upon transferring command to the Atlanta, its captain, Acacio Drakos, a greek orthodox man who's only reason for joining Cerberus was out of some misguided religious wank that made him believe aliens were filth and abominations, and that it was God's demand that they all be purged. Suffice to say, he was delirious fuckwit, and not all that great a captain. Relieving the lunatic of a set of artillery like a battleship was something of a miracle, to say the least.

The rest of the fleet was spread out, with the heavier capital ships holding the blockade while the rest, like corvettes, frigates, destroyers and light cruisers, along with one designated flagship, the CAW Londinium, pursued and destroyed what remained of the UGC fleet. The hanar destroyers were fast, but they had already destroyed one and it was only a matter of time before they were all destroyed. Then they could regroup and reassume the blockade.

It was odd to see UGC activity anywhere near here during this period of the war. With the Reapers so close by, it seemed reckless to send a fleet into this region. Even Cerberus had been reluctant to send one, but knew it was necessary to take out the scientists incase they went to ground again.

So as it was, the Atlanta was at the head of his once proud fleet, which would be again, if the Illusive Man could spare the resources to rebuild the ships lost.  _But the thanix cannon that destroyed the Jericho...only the turians or the Normandy could have had that technology, especially due to the color of it. But no turian ships were here, so that means the Normandy is here. Which means Shepard..._

Tiberius couldn't help but feel vulnerable with a ship like that flying around. Armed with a stealth drive  _and_ a weapon capable of killing ships with a single shot; and not just that, but completely grind them into space dust. It made Tiberius shudder to know that a weapon like that, at any moment, could target the Atlanta and reduce him to nothing in the blink of an eye. _I wish the Alliance had that technology back when I commanded the Second Fleet. Would have convinced me to stay._ But when you were anti-alien or pro-human, you got what you paid for. As for Tiberius? Strictly pro-human. He wasn't a natural racist, he just believed in the betterment of humanity more than the purification of alien relations.

What was the point of making peace with someone if you weren't ready for the dagger behind their back? Might as well bring two daggers.

As for the captain, you couldn't get any more racist. Unless you were Leng.

Where Kai Leng was blind hatred, arrogance and spite, Acacio, which was Greek for 'honorable,' Drakos was a man blinded by simple-minded religious idiocy. And that wasn't to say that all Christians were moron. Just alot of them. Especially the Orthodox, of late. An entirely different sect, called the Purists, had started, preaching the destruction of all alien life that wasn't human, labelling them as hethen and defilers. Acacio was a Purist. The Terra Firma party was quite kind towards such people, and their leadership was almost conquered by them. Which is why noone wanted that party as Alliance Parliament. They'd declare war on the Council simply because they weren't human.

Which is why the man's stinking breath on his shoulder came by as an annoyance, the admiral twisting in his seat to face him, "Are you quite done? If you're not going to brush your teeth, at least keep yourself from breathing upon my face. I can't exactly command a fleet if I'm dying of toxic fumes."

Acacio simply gave a long, drawn out sigh, another feature he hated of the man.  _I should have transfered command to the Waterloo. At least Captain Beryards isn't a religious zealot with smelly breath and obnoxious attitude. Some of the men the Illusive Man recruits...they astound me._ So it was when he heard his comms officer's terminal beeping, he was relieved to be able to move his thoughts away from the man standing next to him, hands clasped behind his back like he was some kind of important figure.

"What is it?"

The comms officer, Weasley, turned towards him with a frown, "Its the group sent after the UGC ships. The destroyer, CAW Maryland."

"Yes, well what did they find?" Tiberius asked impatiently.

"Well, immediately after the UGC forces entered the relay, they picked up activity on the skirts of the system," he looked at Tiberius with weary eyes, "Not Cerberus, not UGC. Sir, the IFFs were of Reaper designation."

The man's eyes widened and he cursed, fumbling for words. After a second, he nodded, swallowing as he turned back to the man, "Pull back the pursuit force. How long do we have until they arrive and what are their strength?"

The comms officer went back to his terminal, communicating with the Maryland. After a minute, he nodded, turning back to the admiral, "They just entered the system and have started heading this way and full speed; we've got four minutes before they arrive. As for their strength, the Maryland detected four Sovereign-Class capital ships, seventy destroyers, one hundred Tarantula-Class Troop Transports, Fifty Raven-Class Swipers. Judging by their fleet composition, a destroyer seems to be leading them."

Tiberius had only heard about the Raven-Class Swipers through the news reports. Apparently they were a kilometer bigger than Sovereign-Class dreadnoughts, but lacked any projectile weaponry, instead relying on the kinetic force of their legs to batter ships and tear them apart. They were quite a terrifying sight and, like all the other Reaper ship types, could absorb enormous amounts of damage and, reportedly, for a melee ship, could take more punishment than the Sovereign-Class Reapers. For the enemy to have fifty headed their way...

"Sound battlestations and prepare to jump from the system!" Tiberius ordered, turning to his navigator, "Navigation, get us on a course to the other side of the system!"

"But sir!" he shouted, worried, "The Nanga Parbat is too badly damaged to risk FTL flight. She can't-"

"Then scuttle the ship!" Tiberius roared, "We'll build another dreadnought! If it can't fly, abandon it. If it can, GET IT OUT OF HERE!"

"Sir..." the comms officer's voice rose, peaking Tiberius' attention as he turned to face him.

"What is it, comms?" The admiral demanded, sweat collecting on his brow in panic.

"The Reaper ships..." he gulped, "They just increased spe-" Suddenly, the officer grasped his head, screaming as he fell to the ground, roaring in agony as if his head was being split open. Tiberius was about to ask what the hell was going on when the rest of the crew on the bridge began screaming, all holding their heads. He looked up to Captain Drakos, but found him slouched in his chair, screeching his agony to the bulkheads.

Tiberius merely frowned, standing up, "What is going on here? Why are you-" Then pain flared in his, and he held his head, screaming as a voice roared in his ears...no, in his  _mind._

 **"We are Oblivion,"** it boomed,  **"And you belong to us, our puppets. We pull the strings, and you follow. And now the second part of the deception plays in hand."**

Even as the admiral crawled up ontop of the center console, he could only watch as the forms of a massive Reaper fleet, hundreds of ships, began flying towards them at insane speed, as if the need to move fast was urgent. But his eyes caught one particular destroyer smashing through a frigate like it wasn't there, descending to the planet's surface with most of the destroyers. In that moment, he knew the flagship was that destroyer. The destroyer named Oblivion.

"What...do you...mean..." he croaked, desperately wanting the pain to go away.

 **"Something you cannot comprehend,"** Oblivion replied, " **But it matters little. Your life ends here, with all its futures put to rest and its final test put to the conclusion."**

Tiberius looked up, watching as a Raven-Class Swiper stormed towards the Atlanta, another one beating the hell out of the Waterloo, gutting it like a savage man does to an animal's intestines. He even watched the Nanga Parbat explode in brilliant light as a thanix cannon carved right through it, and the rest of his fleet was decimated. He watched as the Raven rose one leg, preparing to launch the crippling blow; right through the Atlanta's bridge.

Just as it hit, Tiberius fell unconscious from the pain, and screamed.

This time, the agony was real, and was over in an instant.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1618 hours._

_Main Port, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor._

He groaned as he moved over to the asari ERCS guard, tapping her shoulder to get her to face him. When she did, he nodded to the line, "Are they the last ones?"

The guard nodded, "They are, sir. Last batch to come through, sir. After that, its just the scientists. Then the guards. Then you guys. But these are the last of the civilians."

"Then I shall be making my leave," Lorik declared, picking up his brief case as he finished zipping up his woolen jumper, "The civilians have been evacuated, and now I shall evacuate with the scientists," he turned to Jacob, holding out his hand, "In case this is the last time we see each other, I want you to know that this was a pleasure. I do apologize for trying to kick you out; but I was only doing what I thought was best. I hope you understand that it was nothing personal."

Jacob smiled, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly, "Of course, Lorik. No harm done. But you better get in line or lose it. I get a feeling we'll meet again."

"So do I," the turian smiled, his mandibles flicking as he gave a final nod and moved to join the line, Jacob smiling as he watched him leave. With the administrator secured and all the civilians, it was now time for him to get the scientists out of here. The people he swore to protect.

He turned on the spot, moving over to where they stood in the middle of the port, all huddled around for warmth and talking animatedly. Archer stood talking to Tarisa, but quickly moved away when he saw Jacob approaching. Ever since finding out he had served under Shepard, he had been keeping his distance, and Jacob was appreciative of that. He knew what the man had done on Aite, about how he used his brother for his own ambition, and despised him because of it. The further he stayed away, the better.

Upon seeing him arrive, they all parted, all turning to face him, either crossing their arms, clasping their hands behind their back, or holding the hands of a lover. And when they moved, Brynn was revealed, immediately moving over and hugging him. He laughed weakly, kissing the top of her head as she pulled away, adding her own kiss on his lips. They drew it for as long as possible before having to part, the woman he loved moving over to his side and grasping his hand tightly, careful not to hurt his injured side.

He spoke, voice shaky and uneasy, not liking what he was about to say, "The civilians will soon all be evacuated, and it will be your turn. Then the guards, and finally...the squad and I," He saw Brynn's head whorl to face him at that, "I need to stay behind to help evacuate everyone else. When all are gone, I'll evacuate with Shepard back to the Normandy."

"Absolutely not!" Brynn objected, "How can you-you musn't! I trust Shepard, but you don't need to risk your lif-"

"I do, and there will be no arguing," Jacob stated firmly, gritting his teeth, "I've made my decision. You will go with the scientists Brynn, and I will meet you back on the Normandy. No buts or ifs. This  _will_ be happening."

Brynn sputtered, looking taken aback. The scientists however, quickly moved away and into line, following his orders. Archer quickly moved along with them, trying not to be seen, and it sickened Jacob that a man like that could escape justice. But it mattered little; the UGC needed access to his brilliance, and now they would get it. He turned to Brynn, and watched as her hand slammed into his cheek, sending him reeling back.

"You  _bastard!_ " she barked, moving right into his face, "You stubborn fool! How could you shut me out like that! I'm your fiance! I will not have you getting yourself killed before your daughter is even born! That isn't fair! You don't get to just walk into someone's life and walk back out again!  _That's not fair_!"

"Not  _fair_?" he blurted, snapping in her face, " _Not fair!?_ Not fair is me not being able to come with you! Not fair is having to stay here to make sure everyone else is safe! Not fair is not knowing whether I'll come out alive or not! THAT'S NOT FAIR! But you know what? LIFE ISN'T FUCKING FAIR, BRYNN! I'm a goddamn soldier! I've been protecting you since I met you guys on Gellix, and be damned if I stop doing that now! Its my duty! And I will see it to the end!"

This seemed to soften Brynn's temper as she shrunk back from his outburst, and her mouth seemed to move up and down as she tried to conjure an answer, but found that she couldn't.

Having vented, he moved up to her and hugged her, Brynn welcoming it with one of her own, "I'm just scared, Jacob," she sobbed into his shoulder, feeling wet tears drip along his shoulders, "I don't know what's going to happen. I'm so scared."

"You'd be stupid if you weren't," he replied softly, whispering into her ear, "But its going to be okay. You and I, and the baby, we're going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to you, and you should know Shepard won't let anything happen to me. But this is who I am, Brynn. A soldier. I need to do this. Its my instinct. My purpose."

"Oh...but you have a new purpose now," she whispered back, pulling away until her forehead leaned against his, looking into his eyes, "You have me. Please don't push me away, Jacob. I love you."

He stroked her cheek, cradling it as he kissed her deeply. Pulling away, he smiled, "I love you too, Brynn. And I'm not pushing you away. We'll see each other back on the Normandy. I'm tougher than I look. You should be more worried for Cerberus."

She laughed, smiling as she laid her head on his chest, "Good point. Just..."

He shook his head, kissing the top of her head again, "Ssshhhh...it'll be okay. I'll be okay. I'll fight better knowing you're safe."

She sighed, looking up into his eyes for a long moment that Jacob wished he could stay in forever. Eventually, she sighed once more, pulling away as she straightened her uniform, nodding.

"Okay. I'll go with them," she turned, seeing that they were almost through, turned to him one last time and gave him one final, long goodbye kiss. When she pulled away, she breathed lightly, smiling, "Be safe."

"You too," Jacob smiled back, "I'll see you soon."

And without a further word, Brynn turned away, moving away to join the scientists. Jacob turned to watch her leave, smiling as he licked her lips. Even with her in line, he missed her already.  _You've got a job to do, Taylor. Get it done and you can see her again._

"Hey Jacob!" he heard Kasumi shout across the Port to him, causing him to turn around at the urgency, "Got room in the line?"

As he turned, he saw Kasumi appear, and not far behind, watched as Garrus and Javik helped Marcus limp across the room, the sight causing Jacob's eyes to widen when he saw the medi-gel in the man's side.

He rushed over, frowning, "What the hell happened!?"

"Marcus had the great idea of engaging Leng in hand to hand," Kasumi dryly stated, rolling her eyes, "Of course, to his credit, he almost beat the guy, but I did say almost! Leng managed to stab him through the hip before he got away."

Jacob sighed, whistling as he moved over to Marcus, "Just what were you thinking, you crazy bastard?"

Marcus' voice was laced with malice, but not towards him, "I almost had that piece of shit. If you had let me-"

"He had stabbed you through the chest, you fool," Garrus barked, cutting him off, "You were in no position to pursue him."

"We could have killed him!" he roared, "We cannot let that murderer walk one more step! To kill one more person!"

"Not today, Marcus! Not today!" Garrus responded.

"You are in position for combat," Javik backed him up, "You must wait until you heal."

"See, the pessimistic prothean agrees!" Kasumi cried out.

"Damn it...damn it..." Marcus muttered, "You don't understand...none of you do..."

Jacob sighed, turning to the dock entrance to see that Brynn and the scientists were gone, now evacuated. He nodded, turning back, "Okay, time to go! Guards are evacuating next, I think its time for us to-"

"Cerberus! They're here!" shouted a guard from the Eastern Corridor entrance, his words followed by a thunderous boom that shook the entire Port, almost knocking all of them from their feet. Jacob frowned, knowing full well that was no artillery barrage. Not something that strong. Something had  _smashed_ into the ground. Something big.

Softer, but still quite loud and pounding, bangs were heard, almost rthymic, and seemed to be getting closer. He shook his head, and turned just in time to see what the rest of the squad was looking at.

Sitting at the entrance of the corridor was the M36 Megalodon tank, its massive turret and twin machine guns looking down at them like the sights of a gun. Cerberus soldiers poured out from around it, taking positions infront of it with their guns aimed at them, either entering crouch or standing. Assault troopers, centurions, guardians, phantoms, Nemesis' and dragoons took positions all around, four Atlases coming out from beside the tank to take position.

And up, on top of the tank, stood Kai Leng, the area around his left eye implant all bruised and battered, dried blood crusted around his lips, and seeming to lean to his left side, as if favouring it over his right, hinting at a broken rib.  _Damn. Shepard really did give him a beating._ Despite it, Leng looked to be regaining much of his strength, and was already brandishing his sword again, crusted with dried red and orange blood and sneering down on them.

"I promised to kill you Shepard," Leng barked at him, pointing directly at the battered spectre, "I'm going to hold to that promise."

Marcus shoved Javik and Garrus away from him, coming to stand at his full height, ignoring the pain in his injured side, simply chuckling, "What, with an army? Come on Leng, that's not killing someone yourself, that's called hiding behind a wall of soldiers and letting them do the killing. You're a fucking coward."

Leng was not pleased at this, "I defeated you, Shepard."

"You impaled me and fled like a wounded animal," he growled back, "That's not winning Leng, that's phyrric victory, for both of us."

Leng's next response caused spittle to fly from his mouth, he was not that enraged, "I will not bandy words with you! Operator, end this! Reduce Shepard and his team to nothing! Kill them, but leave Taylor to me," Leng's gaze fixed on him, grinning evilly, "He's mine to kill."

"You're not getting another hand on anyone," Marcus spat, "Not after Byp."

Leng snorted, "Who the fuck is Byp? I don't remember. Yet again, I don't remember most of the names of the alien trash that I kill. Not important enough to bother mesmorizing."

"You will  _die_ you fucking cunt! Your days are numbered!" Marcus roared.

"So are yours," the assassin dictated, "We'll see how many minutes you last," he tapped the tank, "Take aim, and-"

Leng was thrown off his feet onto the tank's hull as the entire Port shuddered, a massive piece of wall blowing apart on his right and tumbling everywhere, crushing all the Cerberus soldiers under it and sending the others fleeing. They all frowned at the sudden explosion, especially when Cerberus seemed to be startled by it; hinting that they were not behind it.

Cerberus soldiers moved towards the opening, harsh, cold winds blowing through it and chilling those infront of it. They slowly inched forward, checking to see what did it. But they needn't have bothered. The undeniable sound of the synthetic horn breaking through the blizzard was enough to give it away.

A Reaper.

Numerous horns, and Jacob widened his eyes.  _No,_ _ **Reapers.**_

Jacob heard numerous synthetic sounds he did not recognize, followed by a loud growl, one that chilled him to the bone. Marcus must have recognized them though, because as soon as he heard the growl, he growled, turning away as he ran, "We have to go! Cerberus just got-"

The body of an eviscerated centurion coming to land with a thud, rolling across the ground until stopping, blood rushing from three long scythes along his front, his guts falling from his opened stomach and torn open armor. Marcus widened his eyes, obviously surprised as they all looked up to see the carnage.

Phaeston fire mixed with that of mattocks and avenger rifles, and the screeches of cannibals filled the backdrop. They heard a growl as a brute came charging through, shearing off the heads of any that stood in its way, only for it to blow apart in flame as an explosive shell from the Megalodon tank hit it dead center, scattering its body parts all over the place. But that did not stop two more brutes from taking its place, and for a horde of husks to pour through and tear into the Cerberus line, followed by cannibals, marauders, more brutes, and he even saw another of those...chimera...creatures, this time a male variant. Their numbers totally overwhelmed Cerberus, forcing them back more and more rapidly, the Megalodon tank, all the while, trying to keep the brutes back, taking them down, one by one.

"We need to go," Jacob stated again, ignoring Marcus' look of shock, "Shepard!"

"They shouldn't be fighting each other..." he mumbled, looking confused, "The Reapers own Cerberus...why would they attack their own indoctrinated agents...it makes no sense...and why would their own agents attack them..."

"We can argue the semantics later!" Jacob growled, "We need to leave!" When he looked up, he saw the brutes had made a beeline for the tank and were now clambering onto it, with Leng nowhere to be seen. One brute climbed up ontop just intime for the hatch to blow open and a centurion with a mattock come out to open fire, but only managing one shot before the brute grabbed his head and crushed it with its fist, joined by six more brutes and then ten more, eventually overcoming the tank and turning it over, the metal of the turret screaming as it was crushed by the weight of its body, the capsized tank now useless. Cerberus was now disorderly, confused, disorganized and as a result, their counterattack against the Reapers was sloppy, allowing the literal swarm of husks pouring through the wall to overwhelm them, bit by bit.

"Retreat!" he heard one cry out, "Fall back to the Peaks! There's too many!  _Retreat!_ "

"Shepard, everyone is already gone!" Jacob pleaded once more, "The civilians, Lorik, the scientists, the guards, hell, even your liberation force! The rachni, the mercs, Aralakh, all gone! We need to go now!"

Marcus nodded meekly, letting Garrus and Keeling help him towards the entrance, Jacob breathing in a sigh of relief as he brought up his eviscerator, pumping a shell into the slot and blasting the form of a charging husk apart, black ichor splattering against his armor and the ground. He reloaded the shotgun before running to join the squad as they ran into the dock, leaving the Cerberus versus Reaper battle behind as they fled in the final evacuation.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1627 hours._

_Main Dock, Port Hanshan, Aleusk Continent, Noveria._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor._

The rush down the steps to the main dock were some of the most painful in Marcus' life, he found out. The pain in his side was not steeped by the medi-gel, but was slowly easing due to his slow regenerative process. He bit his lip and soldiered through it as they moved, Jacob bringing up the rear as they moved to the last shuttle in the now empty Port; the Normandy's.

"Cortez, open the door! Bring the shuttle into hovering position! We need to take off immediately!" Garrus ordered through the comm, almost rushing Marcus along the ground with the way he was practically dragging him.

Almost immediately as Garrus issued the orders, the hatch of the shuttle flew open, Cortez at the door with a frown, "Why are we leaving so early? Cerberus isn't here already, are they?"

"Cerberus  _and_ the Reapers!" Garrus shouted back, motioning to Wrex to take over as he sprinted over to Cortez, "We need to get moving  _now!_ Inform Chakwas that Shepard is injured and needs medical attention ASAP! Make sure the stealth drive is activated, we don't want to be shot down by Reapers!"

_**Serve us.** _

_**You can hear us, Shepard. We know you can. All our voices, in your mind, conquering it.** _

_**We are Oblivion. Harbinger has told us of you. You will know pain. You will know suffering. Unless...you submit. Submit to ascension, let it fill you, and embrace it.** _

_**Serve us, and you shall live eternally.** _

_**Serve us.** _

_**SERVE US.** _

_I...don't...want to...leave me...alone..._

_**You grow weak. You are becoming more submissive to our suggestions. Embrace them for the truth they are, and you will know peace.** _

_That sounds...nice..._

_**It is eternal. Full of composure. Of music. Of peaceful silentium. Embrace it, serve us, and know freedom, everlasting.** _

_I'd...like that..._

_"Marcus..."_

_What?_

_"...till death do us part..."_

_Tali? Are you there? Where are you?_

_"I need this...I need you..."_

_Please don't do this, Tali. Where are you?_

_"Marcus?"_

_Yes! I'm here!_

_"Resist them, Marcus. Fight them. Don't give in."_

_But they offer...peace. I feel...warm..._

_"They are lies, you bosh'tet! Knock it off and wake up! You've got to come find me! You don't get to die until you've found me, remember!?"_

_I just...want to crawl away...and fall asleep..._

_"You can. When the burden is done. Don't give up..."_

_I love you, Tali. But I can't keep doing this. I'm too weak. I'm not strong enough..._

_"You've never lacked the strength," she responded, "You've never been weak. You've always been strong. You just need someone to shoulder the burden with you. I love you, Marcus. Now get up, dust yourself off, and come back to me..._

He nodded, new resolve filling his veins. _I will, Tali. I swear I will. Keelah Se'lai._

_"...till death do us part..."_

_**...except the peace we offer, and you shall-** _

_NO! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_ _**GET OUT!** _

_**Serve us.** _

_**SERVE US.** _

"...why won't...he...up?" he heard muffled voices, only able to capture some of what they were saying, "Is...thing...we can...? He's not...ing is he?"

Finally, he peeled his eyes open, feeling the cold sweat that permeated his skin. He finally looked up into the face of a stunned James, before turning to Garrus, smiling weakly. He noticed he was in a blue interior, where numerous seats rested. He noted that the seats were uncomfortable.  _I must be in the shuttle._

"Marcus?" he felt Garrus' hand on his shoulder, and slowly looked up to meet the turian's eyes, "Are you okay? Talk to me, buddy."

He gulped, swallowing as he felt his throat go dry, "I'm...a bit...thirsty."

The turian chuckled, James laughing as he shook his head turning away to yell out to Jacob, telling him he was alright. Turning back, he saw Garrus raise his own canteen, now opened, and pour the liquid heaven into his mouth, Marcus swallowing every mouthful before Garrus pulled away, putting the lid back on, tightening it and putting it away, slapping his shoulder, "You're going to be just fine. We're going to get you back to the Normandy."

"Jacob..." he wheezed, "Where's Jacob?"

He pointed outside the hatch, "Outside, keeping an eye out on the enemy."

He nodded, moving to stand, ignoring the turian's objections as he came to stand, tearing his shoulder away as Liara tried to place a hand on it, the man limping over and nearly falling over to the hatch, before he grabbed hold of the edge and held onto it, looking out to where Jacob was, crouched and shotgun beared, the sounds of the dying heard in the background.

"Jacob!" Marcus coughed, watching as the man turned to face him, smiling as he stood up, wincing at the still fresh injury in his side as he limped over.

"Shepard! You look like shit!" he chuckled, "But still up and walking. That's the sight I like to see."

"Hahaha..." he laughed, almost choking on his own saliva, coughing the phlegm into his hand and grimacing at the green substance as he threw it away, "...I feel like it."

"I'm sure Leng feels it too," he sighed, shaking his head, "Shepard, I was wondering something. With all this over, and Brynn safe, do you think..."

He swallowed, coughing again, "You think what, Jacob?"

He cleared his throat, "Do you think me and Brynn could join the Normandy? I couldn't ever leave her side, but it would be nice to fight with you again. I just hope this Vega guy hasn't messed up my armoury."

"Alliance did that first...I'm afraid..." he coughed again, sniffing, "Although I'm sure you won't dislike it too much."

Jacob sighed, chuckling, "Well that's okay then. Because me and Brynn? We're going to help you win this war. And when its all over-"

Jacob cut off his own words as he screamed in pain, his shotgun falling to the ground as blood spurted from his knee, a long, silver blade sticking out of it and forcing him to his knees. He tried to flare his biotics, but stopped when a stun batton hit him across the back, stopping him from doing so. And behind him, materializing, was Kai Leng, grinning as he met Marcus' stunned eyes, the man groaning as he tried to move.

"This is the price you pay for insolence, Shepard," he leaned down, looking down into Jacob's angry eyes, "I  _did_  say I'd kill you."

And before Marcus could do anything, he ripped the blade from his knee, brought it up, and then back down again...

...Marcus coughing as he tried to scream his fury, watching the blade penetrate through the back of Jacob's head, out through his mouth, and out the other end, red blood coughing onto the ground. Jacob's body went limp, the life leaving him all in an instant. All the while, Leng only smiled smugly, keeping his eyes on Marcus as he tore the blade out, wiping it on his armor.

"RRRRAAAAGGGHHHHHH!" he heard Garrus scream, the staccato beat of his assault rifle going into overdrive as he held down the trigger, high velocity rounds pouring into Leng's form, forcing him to retreat as he held up a barrier to protect himself, forcing him to slowly retreat. James joined in, followed by Javik, their weapons joining to kill Leng. But before they could, the coward activated his cloak, and disappeared from sight.

Marcus could only watch as Cortez closed the hatch, "There's no time! We have to go! Reaper forces are swarming the dock!"

Marcus slammed a fist into the wall, then another, followed by another. He shouted his anger to the stars, and then fell onto his back, feeling battered, weakened...

...but most of all, defeated.

_This is the price you pay for your insolence, Shepard._

_Victory at any cost._

_You fight or you_ _**die** _ _._

"Damn you..." he mumbled, his words to jarbled to understand, " _Damn_ you..."

**"The day Jacob was murdered..."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It was that day I realized that I didn't just want Leng dead. I** _**needed** _ **him dead. And you know the worst bit?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What?"**

**"Telling the grieving fiance that her husband-to-be is dead, and her murderer alive. At that moment, I vowed to end his life, no matter what it took. Even if it meant losing my own."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**NOOOO! NOT JACOB! NOOO!** _

_**Oh, who am I kidding, none of you care. Fuck Jacob. Noone cares about Jacob, and neither do I. Although I tried to do his character as much justice as I could before I killed him off. Sorry Jacob fans...if you guys exist at all...** _

_**This chapter is a milestone for me, because it marks the first time that I've killed off a main character on my own terms, not the game's. The Virmire sacrifice doesn't count because Bioware made me choose; it was either Kaidan or Ashley, that was a predetermined choice point. As for Jacob...he either dies during the loyalty mission in ME2 or not, but in ME3, he's basically invincible. But since I've killed him off, it marks the first time I've killed off a main character on MY terms.** _

_**Don't expect this to get any better. I'm not going to go as far to say that I'm like AMC's Walking Dead or George RR Martin, but I'm not going to show mercy and there definitely won't be pathetically justified deus-ex machinas. If a character is in a situation where there's no chance of survival, they die. Full stop.** _

_**Of course, bias will come into it, and Marcus and Tali are the only characters I've given any plot armor to. Of course, suffice to say, the rest is free shots. So prepare for some feels where you won't expect them, especially near the end of the story.** _

_**Anyway, rant over. Next chapter I've decided will be an interim, as I feel the scene where Marcus tells Brynn of Jacob's death will be necessary to show. After that, its a two-parter Tuchanka (might shorten it to one part, depending on how many words there are), and after that, a few more 'interims' before the Citadel attack. And then, the most exciting part; TALI AND THE QUARIANS AND THE GETH! YAY! WOO-HOO! YIPPY-KAY-YAY MOTHERFUCK-oh wait, that's Die Hard. My apologies.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	26. Such Is The Loss of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew is left shocked by Jacob's death, but no one is hit harder than Shepard. The Illusive Man begins moving resources for Cerberus' largest and most ambitious operation yet. Keeling questions Shepard's resolve.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:**

**SUCH IS THE LOSS OF LIFE**

_June 19, 2186_

_1628 hours._

_UT-47A Stealth Kodiak Shuttle, In Orbit over Noveria, Pax System, Horsehead Nebula. Moving to dock with SSV Normandy._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, EDI._

The ride back to the Normandy, Marcus decided, was far more painful than that of his injured side.

There was complete silence in the cabin as they all stood, respectful in their silence or mourning inwardly. Marcus still lay with his back against the shuttle hatch, sitting on the floor as he blankly looked ahead of him. So close they had come to being in the clear, and then it all came crashing down on them.

Jacob Taylor, the man who he had met on Lazarus Station a year ago, the man who was good at heart, the man who worked with an organization he despised but eventually left and the same man who helped him tackle the Collectors in their home. The same man who came for him when Kenson captured him on Project Base. The same man...who's fiance was now about to grieve alot more than he would.

Jacob Taylor, that man he respected, was dead. Murdered right infront of him by a man he despised more than anything. More than the batarians. More than any volus. More than any rapist, child molester or politician. He wanted Leng dead in numerous ways; decapitation, castration, mutilation, torture, suffocation, asphyxiation. So many ways he wanted that bastard to die, for ruining what could have been.

Jacob was, had been, a family man. He could have been married for the first time in his life. Could have had a child, a son or daughter. Would have known the beauty of fatherhood. A beauty even Marcus hadn't experienced yet. He could have been something so much more, and in that instant, Leng had snuffed that out. Ended it all. Silenced its life.

And for that, Leng  _had_ to die.

So Marcus wasn't mourning for Jacob. No, he had done that already. Tarquin's death had helped him prepare for what would happen. Helped him prepare for the horrors of losing a friend. Grunt's attempted sacrifice brought him on the presipice of collapse, but his survival kept him going. And then Jacob died, and Marcus realized there would be no miracle return. He was gone, permanently. Never to return. Noone would resurrect him.

So Marcus didn't mourn.

He plotted revenge.

Noone at this point knew how he did it. How he caged in the loss. How he used it as fuel to continue. How he managed to not shed a single tear. How he was incorruptible. Unbeatable. Like he was a wall that couldn't breached, and only cracks could be formed, but it never actually blew. He just kept going. He just shut his emotions down as a way to cope. And that gave way to darker thoughts. For Garrus, it only made him wonder what would happen if Tali died. How would he feel then?

Garrus had a feeling that would be the final blow to send the wall shattering, and for the proverbial dam to come flowing through.

"We're coming into dock," Cortez spoke, loud enough to be heard, but low enough so he wasn't yelling, trying not to break the silence, as if out of fear of being disrespectful, "Sir...the scientists are waiting. Brynn Cole's...infront of them."

Garrus immediately turned to Marcus, but he barely flinched. This worried the turian, as after Marcus' breakdown upon the hatch, after which he thought the man would cry, he simply became a stoic statue, unmoving, barely flinching and for a second, he thought the man had stopped breathing, he was that quiet. He just blankly stared at the wall before him, ignoring Cortez's words.

"Sir?" the pilot spoke again, but Marcus still didn't speak. Didn't move. It was starting to irritate Garrus; they had all suffered from Jacob's loss, even himself, who had fired so unprofessionally at Leng, but that didn't give Marcus the right to shut them out! Damn it, would he be so quiet if Tali was here? Damn him!

Garrus, being Marcus' XO, immediately spoke, replying to Cortez, "Bring us into dock Cortez. I...I'll break it to Cole."

Cortez responded solemnly and respectfully, "Yes...Yes, Mr. Vakarian. Bringing us in now."

Garrus nodded, rubbing the back of his helmet as he turned back to Marcus, only to almost jump back.

Marcus stared right at him, eyes narrowed at him. It wasn't a glare, but it didn't look particular friendly either. After a minute though, he looked down at the ground, nodding ever so slightly, before grunting as he moved to pick himself up, coming to stand tall.

"No you won't," he finally spoke, and he swore the room was ice cold from surprise at the man's sudden break of silence, "I will."

"Come on loco," James spoke, coming to stand beside Garrus, nodding to the turian, "Let Vakarian do it. You've done enough."

Marcus turned to him, and his look was like frosted ice, "Enough isn't good enough. This is my responsibility."

"Marcus, stop doing this to yourself," the turian growled, having had enough, "Not everything is your spirits be damned fault! You're not alone in this, when will you realize this? You've got friends who will willingly drop everything to help you shoulder that burden. You think Tali gets special treatment on that? No! You're like a brother to me, Shepard! No Shepard without Vakarian! So why won't you let me help you; let  _us_ help you?"

Marcus turned to him, growling slightly, "You will stand down, Vakarian. I swore to Cole I'd keep her husband safe. I failed, and now Jacob is dead and rotting back on Noveria. We don't even have a body.  _I_  will tell her, and that's the end of it."

The shuttle came to land as Javik spoke, showing no sign of being moved by the events that had transpired, "You all stand here, weakened by this loss. You should be using it to fuel yourselves. It is a sign of weakness the Reapers will wield against you. They take power from your despair; despair is your enemy, and you must conquer it."

"Javik. Just for once," Marcus growled, grabbing the prothean by the collar, "Shut the fuck up." With that, he let go of him and turned away, the prothean showing no sign of being fazed by the human's movement as he moved towards the hatch, hitting the console and stepping out, stubbornly ignoring his injury as he stepped out...

...and right there, waiting, was Brynn Cole. And Marcus froze, unable to do it.

Garrus frowned, and saw the source of the problem.

Brynn Cole was smiling. She was happy to see they had returned, assuming Jacob was safe. And Marcus had seen that smile, and all strength left him. He was unable to do it. To shatter that relieved facade. To shatter her fantasy and introduce her back to the dark, horrible reality that her husband wasn't coming back. Her husband-to-be.

She heard a sob, and Garrus turned away, finding Kasumi leaning against the shuttle, another sob coming from under her hood. He saw a tear hit the steel floor, but in that moment, she looked up, met his eyes and immediately wiped her eyes, standing up and pretending nothing had happened. He sighed, turning away as his shoulders slumped, realizing just how hopeless the whole situation felt.

"Come on out Jacob!" Brynn called, seemingly oblivious to their looks of despair, "That gunshot wound has to be checked eventually!"

Wrex and Grunt silently moved past, not breathing a word, heads bowed down in a sign of respect. They kept clear of everyone, simply moving towards the edge of the bay and not turning back. Even Keeling seemed to be moved by the events in some way, her usually programmed movements more sloppy and lethargic, a slight glitch in her movements as she slowly moved away, removing her helmet, her usually stoic and cold features showing a sign of having been moved. Her rifle hung limply at her side and just like Wrex and Grunt, she did not turn around. James turned to him, obviously wanting to follow her, not wanting to see what was next. Garrus couldn't blame him. He nodded, and James saluted, moving away.

Cortez came out of the shuttle at that moment, stopping just as he cleared the hatch, and his eyes met Garrus'. The two of them shared a look and in that moment, Cortez knew what to do. He quickly and hastily returned to his station at the armoury, knowing that what had to be done had to be done, and that he shouldn't be around when it did.

"Well Jacob?" Brynn shouted again, hands on her hips, "Are you coming out, or what? It isn't nice to keep your soon-to-be wife waiting."

"Brynn..." Marcus quietly spoke, gulping, " ..."

Brynn stopped, her smile dying slightly, "Well Captain? Where is Jacob?"

He looked at her sadly, his cold ficade broken just by looking at her, "Jacob...we were leaving..."

A low sob escaped Brynn's lips, all of them watching her mouth shake as she grabbed onto her mouth, a tear escaping her eye as Marcus continued, "But then Leng...he came out of nowhere..."

"No..." she sobbed again.

"He got the jump," Marcus swallowed, sighing as he looked at the ground, refusing to look at her any longer, "Leng...he killed him. Right infront of me. I don't...I'm so sorry for your loss..."

They all watched Brynn stumble back, now openly weeping, two of the scientists behind her having to run up and grab her before she fell onto her back, her voice now wailing as she cried, tears streaming down her face, "He can't be gone...he promised..."

"You have my...condolences," he replied, simply standing there, still refusing to look at her.

Suddenly, Brynn came to stand, wiping the tears from her face and shoving a finger in Marcus' face, who finally looked up at her, "You...BASTARD! I trusted you with his life, and now he's dead! YOU...PIECE OF GARBAGE! YOU ASSHOLE! YOU MOTHER-" her string of curses continued, but when all she saw was his blank look, she shoved him backwards, and he stumbled slightly, Brynn panting lightly from her cursing.

And then she began to sob again, the reality hitting her all over again, bawling as her friends helped her to the ground.

When the silence crept up again, one of the scientists, a brown-haired male, moved over to Marcus, gulping, "This is a horrible day, possibly the worst day of the war, for us. Jacob's help was appreciated, and we will remember him and respect his memory by doing this: we hereby pledge our allegiance to the UGC, and will help you in your war against the Reapers."

"Thank you," Marcus practically mumbled, eying him carefully, "When we arrive at the Citadel, I'll contact Hackett to have him send a shuttle to pick you up and take you to the Crucible. From there, you can help us build it and tell us what you know about Cerberus," he turned to Garrus, "Garrus, you're in command. I...need some time to myself."

The turian widened his eyes, but before he got a word out, Marcus spun on the spot, wiping his nose as he moved away at an increased pace towards the elevator, not looking back. He saw Wrex, Grunt, James, Keeling and practically everyone else look back at the man as he stormed away, clearly shaken by his cold attitude.

Garrus shook his head, following after him, speaking to the scientist as he moved past, "Excuse me," he turned to EDI, "EDI, make sure these scientists get good accomodation. I'll be back."

Without so much as a reply, they immediately got to work, EDI giving the directions to the Crew's Quarters, all the while Garrus practically jogged over to Shepard, reaching him just as the elevator doors closed. He stood there for a moment, watching Marcus' blank eyes stare at the elevator door, ignoring him, pretending he wasn't there. And that, by itself, angered Garrus more than anything else the man had done.

"Look at me Marcus," the turian growled. When the human didn't comply, he grabbed his shoulders and threw him against the elevator wall, "LOOK AT ME!"

Marcus' eyes finally drifted to his, narrowing, "What is it, Garrus?"

"You know perfectly well what it is!" the turian snapped, "I told you that you shouldn't need to shoulder this burden all by yourself. And what did you do? You went out and told Brynn her husband was dead, and didn't even look her in the face! I could have handled that myself! You don't always have to be the one to take the bullet for the team, you stubborn idiot!"

"Jacob's death was on me," Marcus muttered in response, wheezing, "It wasn't your burden to shoulder."

"On  _you?_ Tali was right, you  _are_ a stubborn bosh'tet," he shook the man from side to side, "Are you awake? Do you listen to yourself? Jacob's death had nothing to do with you! Leng got the jump on us, appeared out of nowhere and you were injured! So unless you had some miracle up your sleeve and a tracker on Leng, there's nothing you could have done to stop that bastard! So stop that shit right now!"

"I should have done something about-"

"Enough! I said enough!" the turian persisted, ignoring his objections, "I won't suffer a word more of it! Now you're going to get to medical and Chakwas take a look at you, and you're going to stop this self-loathing bullshit because it had nothing to do with you! This was not Virmire! This was not you giving orders in the Collector Base! Leng attacked us without warning, and that is not your fault! So stop it! Do you understand that, Marcus? Because I'm done watching my brother tear himself apart over something he couldn't have stopped. Please, for your sake and mine, stop beating yourself up."

Without warning, the elevator stopped, and Garrus realized Marcus' thumb was on the halt button, and he turned towards the turian, sighing as a look of sadness entered his eyes; the first true emotion he had shown since Jacob's death.

"This is how I cope Garrus," the man stated, turning away as his hands landed on his hips, "Its how I coped with losing Ashley on Virmire, and its how I coped with losing Tarquin. It tells me that I could have saved them; that their deaths weren't inevitable. That it wasn't set in stone."

The turian sighed, "But blaming yourself won't help bring Jacob back. You know that."

"You think I don't know that?" he replied harshly, shaking his head, "You know what he was asking me before he died? He asked to join the Normandy again. Brynn and himself. Those were his last words to me, to anyone; that he wanted to join my crew. Do you know how much that hurts? That his last words were of what he was going to do, not wanting to do? Its...horrible..."

Garrus watched him move, the man backing up against the elevator wall, looking so defeated in that one moment, "He's gone, Garrus. He's truly gone."

He placed a hand on his shoulder, grasping it as he nodded, breathing heavily, "May he rest in peace, because he's earned it."

Marcus only nodded, closing his eyes, and shutting out the world around him.

After a moment, the turian reached out and hit the button for the Crew Deck, Marcus opening his eyes and turning to him, "You need to get patched up. I head up to the cockpit and tell...tell Joker what happened, in case EDI hasn't already."

He nodded and closed his eyes again, shutting out the world around him.

He had a feeling his nightmares would only get worse now.

Ashley had a friend to taunt him now.

**{Loading...}**

_June 19, 2186_

_1650 hours._

_'Humanity's Sanctum,' Upper Levels, Cronos Station, Anadius System._

_The Reaper War._

_The Illusive Man._

"Sir," Geoff spoke as he entered the room, greeting TIM as he always did before approaching him.

"Approach," TIM ordered, taking another sip of his whiskey before placing it down on the arm next to him. He waited until Geoff stood directly behind him before speaking, "What do you have to report?"

"The end of mission report for Operation: Polar Fire," Geoff stated.

TIM nodded, taking a puff of his cigarette as he waited, "Proceed."

Geoff noticably gulped, and TIM knew instantly that he wouldn't like it, "Well sir, it appears Polar Fire was largely a failure. The Third Fleet was totally annihilated, with only the Maryland and a few frigates having escaped. We lost the Nanga Parbat, the Martin Luther and Ronald Tiberius was confirmed lost, along with the rest of the crew from the CAW Atlanta."

TIM frowned at that, "What was he doing on the Atlanta? His flagship was the Nanga Parbat."

"Reports from the Maryland state the Third Fleet was attacked by a UGC force prior to the complete destruction of Tiberius' fleet," Geoff explained, "They had volus bombers with them and managed to severely damage the Nanga Parbat. Due to operational necessity, Admiral Tiberius transferred command to the Atlanta just before the fleet was destroyed."

"A UGC force?" TIM questioned, his temper flaring.  _No doubt Shepard was leading them. Wherever my men go it seems, that man follows like a pest._ "It destroyed our fleet?"

"No, sir," Geoff corrected, checking his datapad, "According to this, the UGC force was not responsible for the Third Fleet's ultimate destruction. They had ten elcor heavy frigates, several hanar destroyers, and two volus plasma bombers along with an unconfirmed vessel with a thanix cannon that destroyed the Jericho. This force was largely destroyed sir, and only a handful escaped the system."

"So what killed our fleet?" TIM asked, confused at how his fleet could just implode, and knowing full well the 'unconfirmed vessel' was the Normandy.

"A Reaper force sir. It turned up at the height of the battle on the ground," Geoff gulped, "According to this, they were hundreds strong. Well over two hundred ships. They swarmed Third Fleet and totally destroyed it sir. The Maryland barely escaped with the ships it had."

"Reapers?" TIM cursed inwardly, shaking his head as he rubbed his temples, taking a sip of his favourite alcohol. He took control of himself, keeping his aura of calm, "Well, we should have expected they would intervene; being so close to their space. What about this 'battle on the ground?' What do you mean? The Port would have only had ERCS guards; underpaid rookies. The division I sent should have been more than sufficient."

Geoff nodded, "True sir, but the UGC somehow managed to deploy a relief force. According to this, they had a company of krogan commandos, two platoons of Blue Suns, one platoon of Blood Pack, two platoons of Eclipse and a horde of insects they couldn't identify. We've cross-referenced it and confirmed it to be rachni sir."

 _Ah yes, the fruits of Shepard's labour. He has been working hard it seems. I'm impressed; he has assembled quite a unique force and has done more than I thought he would achieve. To have rachni on his side is an impressive feat in itself, but it still won't win this war. Controlling the Reapers will._ "So I'm assuming the division was destroyed?"

"They managed to decimate half of the division in an attempt to raid the western corridor but Kai Leng's relief forces from the Peak forces managed to make a push and get inside the compound. Leng reported an attempt at a flanking tactic through the garage, but was ambushed and fought his way out."

TIM had to hold back a snort at that, taking another puff of his cigarette.  _'Fought his way out?' Leng has never been very conformitive to defeat. More likely Shepard engaged in a one-on-one fight and forced him to retreat. Too prideful for his own good._ "Well? Then why was the mission a failure? Half a division and Leng's regiment should have overrun the Port. Especially with the Megalodon tank I gave him."

"The Reaper forces arrived just as they were entering the Port sir," Geoff elaborated, scrolling down the datapad as he read its contents further, brows furrowing in disappointment, "They deployed their forces and attacked Leng's forces as they entered the Port. He barely escaped with his life, he reported."

"Continue," TIM stated, "What happened? You said the operation was a partial failure? Why? It either failed or it didn't."

"When the Maryland picked up Leng, our operative reported that the scientists escaped," he gulped, meeting TIM's eyes, "But he did manage to locate, home in on and eliminate Jacob Taylor."

TIM blinked momentarily, looking up at him, "Excuse me? He actually managed to assassinate Taylor? Did he bring evidence of the kill?"

"There was red blood on his blade, sir," Geoff stated, "But he also said that if you want evidence, you should 'ask Shepard, I made him watch.' Did you want me to bring him in, sir?"

"No," TIM decided, impressed that Leng hadn't completely ruined the mission and had actually managed to eliminate a known traitor to his organization and defector. The death of Jacob Taylor would definitely help him sleep better at night, "No, tell him he is to return to base and stock up; I want him to be ready for when Operation: Deathstroke reaches fruitition. He'll be leading the forces then as well. This goes to show that Operation: Polar Fire wasn't a complete failure afterall. Have the remnants of the Third Fleet return to Manifest Destiny Station and get them restocked, refueled and rearmed. When that's done, have them assigned to Fleet Admiral Terrence's Fourth Fleet. And tell him to get his fleet ready. I want Deathstroke ahead of schedule. We're running short of time, and the Reaper lines are extending. We need to act quickly."

"Ahead of schedule sir?" Geoff asked again, and seeing TIM's nod, he nodded himself, typing the information into his omni-tool. When he was finished, he turned back to TIM, omni-tool still raised, "Do you want me to relay that to our main operative on the Citadel? How about the rest of our sleeper agents?"

"Inform all of them of the change. Tell them the time is coming. Especially our main operative," TIM took another drag of his cig before snuffing it out in the ash tray, "As of tomorrow, it is all hands on deck. Deathstroke approaches and I want it completed by the end of next week. We cannot afford time anymore. Either take the chance or lose it. But we cannot let Shepard's foolish endeavours continue and for him to get away with it. We need to rid him and the UGC of their last haven. To take what they so sorely need. And then, and only then, will we be able to forward our plans on controlling the Reapers. The key is there, we need only seize it. And I believe this 'Crucible' may hold the key to doing that."

"So you want to send the preparation order?" Geoff double-checked.

"Yes, do it. Have Leng ready to lead them and the Fourth Fleet ready for combat," TIM took one final sip of his whiskey as he gazed into the bright light of Anadius.

"We're going to take the Citadel."

**{Loading...}**

_June 20, 2186_

_1200 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Second Lieutenant James Vega._

James stood behind his work bench, fiddling with his Revenant as he mulled over the events of the day before. He remembered watching Jacob die, seeing the man stabbed right through the back of the head, murdered before his very eyes. The very image scarred the man, because that day he saw his commander, the man who seemed so unbeatable, crumble for a mere moment, and become a cold, frosted cage. He hadn't known Jacob very well, but for Marcus to break down like that, for Garrus to lose his cool in such a fashion, to that little, mischevious thief, Houdini he called her, sob and cry, they must have known him for a long time.

James had lost alot of friends himself, especially during the Collector attack on Fehl Prime two years ago. He had lost his entire squad except for one, and he hadn't seen him for a very long time. For all he knew, that man was probably dead on Earth now, or some other world, or converted into a husk. And that asari...the one he felt a momentary attraction to...he hadn't seen her ever since. Only God knew whether she was alive and safe on Thessia, or dead...her body mutilated and corrupted. The thought brought him no peace, so he shelved it as quickly as it came to him.

He moved his thoughts elsewhere; its how he dealt with the loss of losing a friend, a squadmate, an ally in battle. Its how he coped with death.

Then, he realized with some excitement, that by tomorrow, they would be in orbit of Tuchanka and curing the genophage. And he would be part of the expedition to change history. The thought send tingles throughout James' body, the marine still incredulous that they were finally here; after the cure was dispersed, the entire might of a reborn krogan people would join the UGC, along with the collective strength of the Turian Hierarchy and Volus Protectorate. Three factions, all for one cure. It was a miracle what one simple formula could do to change the minds of many.

Of course, the Salarian Union wouldn't be very pleased at the idea, if he had heard right. Although at this point it didn't look like Shepard even cared, simply electing to ignore the Union's protests and cure the genophage anyway. It was a eons long dispute, and it had to end at some point. The krogan had paid the price for their crimes, and now they could rebuild anew.  _Just one krogan company is a badass force...but for every single krogan in existence to go to war? Damn, I'm glad I'm on their side._

"Lieutenant Vega?" a voice broke his thoughts, and as he looked up, he saw it was Keeling, holding out her rifle to him.

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes to make it look like a lack of sleep as he nodded, smiling, "Yes, Keeling? What can I do for you?"

She flinched, the rifle moving forwards an inch, "I want you to fix my rifle. It got damaged during the battle on Noveria."

He nodded, frowning, "Why can't you fix it? I see you modding it all the time; you're a natural."

She shook her head, "Nothing like this. A bullet went right through the barrel, came out the other side. Nothing I can do. Figured you could."

He grinned, relieving the weapon from her grip and placing it down on the bench before him, cracking his knuckles, "You figured correctly, ."

He could see where the damage was almost immediately upon laying eyes on it. A bullet, high-velocity and heavy pounder obviously, had punced right through the right side, shredded the innards and come out the other side, totally ruining the otherwise fine weapon. It was light, compact and easy to fire whilst dealing heavy damage, and now it was beyond saving.

"Actually, I think you figured wrong," James sighed, laying the rifle back down on the bench before him, "The weapon is totally cactus, and there's nothing I can do for it. Sorry, Keeling."

The N7 sighed as much, retrieving the weapon from the table and nodding, "I thought as much. It didn't look like even the most skilled calibrator could fix it, but I thought I'd give it a try."

"You mean give it to me to give a try?" James remarked, grinning smugly at her.

She met his eyes, and for a second it looked as if she was about to smile. At the last second however, she stopped, shook her head and turned away, grunting, "Yeah, same thing really." She moved to walk away, but James just couldn't help but open his mouth. He had wanted to talk to her, get to know her, but the woman kept shutting him down like some robot; refused to smile, refused to laugh, hell, refused to show any socialable skill other than military calls. The most emotion he got from her was when-

Images of her snarling and shouting at him flashed across his eyes, and he shook his head to clear them, hating the very thought of them.  _That was a side of Keeling I never want to see again. So angry, so furious, so murderous, so..._

_...terrified._

"Keeling!" he almost shouted, and he felt heat reach his cheeks upon saying it so loud, gaining a grin from Cortez. He glared at the man, and the pilot turned away, silently chuckling to himself.

The special forces operative stopped mid-step, turning towards him with a raised eyebrow, her head poking out from behind a wall of crates almost comically, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

He sighed, bracing against at the bench, "You don't have to keep referring to me by rank. I already call you Keeling, and  _technically_ you're a higher rank than me."

She frowned, "We hold the same rank."

"Yes, but you hold more authority than me," James added.

"How so?" she questioned.

"You're special forces, I'm a jarhead. That gives you automatic authority, in my case," he replied, sighing as he rubbed his face, "So come on, just quit it. You can just call me Vega...ma'am."

She sighed, shaking her head. Finally, she reached a decision and nodded, although reluctantly, "Fine... _Vega._  You wanted something?"

He nodded, exhaling through his nostrils as he found a crate behind him, blindly pulling it out and plunking himself down on it, hands on his knees, "Yes, I wanted to talk with you, ma'am. We rarely get time to on missions. Figured this would be the perfect time to do it. Soldier on soldier."

She sighed, considering him for a moment. She scanned his eyes for any sign of insincerity, any sign that he was yanking her chain or attempting some kind of prank. Coming up short, she shook her head, "I don't talk, Vega, I just do. I don't have time for talking, there's work to be done."

Just as she turned to leave, she stopped, hearing a low chuckle erupt from James' lips. Frowning, she turned back to face him, raising an eyebrow at his incredulous grin, "Was what I said amusing to you?"

He just chuckled again, slouching further on the crate as he leaned against the crates behind it, smile never leaving his face, "Yeah. You're all about work and no talk, which I found pretty funny. And silly."

Keeling dropped her weapon on the ground and moved over to his work bench, leaning over it as close as she could, "If you find my work ethic amusing, then maybe I should get a transfer. I will not be mocked because I put the mission before idle chit-chat. We're at war, Vega."

"Well aware of that. I was on Earth, just like you," he replied, his face losing most of its amusement, as did his tone, "But at the moment, the war is out there, not here. No Reapers coming to harvest us, no Cerberus coming to kill us. Just you, me, the crew, and the whole damn Citadel. Right now, the war can wait. Right now, I just want to talk you like a decent human being. Is that asking too much?"

Keeling rolled her eyes, "I am not Shepard. I'm not so care free that I can afford to let my guard down like that. While we're chatting, Cerberus could infiltrate the ship, anything could happen and I wouldn't be ready for it."

He laughed incredulously, leaning forward as he held his hands together, "You're not just paranoid, you're trying to be prepared for everything. Noone can be prepared for everything. Even Shepard's been taken by surprise numerous times. Everyone needs to let their guard down everyone once and a while. We're safe here."

"Nowhere is  _safe_ ," the N7 snorted, leaning back to properly stand, "We're  _never_ safe. Nothing is  _safe._  We're at war Vega. War with a race that doesn't even sleep or get hungry or needs medical attention. If a husk drops, it just replaces it and if it gets wounded, it continues like nothing happened. They don't have supply lines and they have all the time in the galaxy. They aren't on a timer, they can let their guard down because taking them by surprise is basically a useless tactic, and  _they_ are  _always_ safe."

He shook his head, "And that's got to do with the here and now...how?"

She look flustered for a second before regaining her calm composure, waving a hand at him in annoyance, "You don't get it do you? The best weapon the enemy have is surprise and if I let my guard down to  _talk_ to you..."

"Yes, I'm sure they'll target you before, say, someone like Loco?" he grinned, shaking his head, "Sure, Keeling. Honestly, you can use better excuses to not socialize with someone. You just don't want to talk because you're not used to it."

She widened her eyes at him for a second before shaking her head, creasing her lips, "That's not true."

"It is," he replied immediately and firmly, "You've barely talked three words of casual conversation to anyone on this ship. If it isn't mission based or you're not giving orders, you're not talking. That bothers me. It bothers loco. It bothers everyone. Here, on this ship, are people who have fought and bled together, Keeling. They know each other off by heart, but the most they know about you is that you kick ass in combat and your name is Keeling. Although I'm not sure you allowed me to use your first name."

She stood for a second, looking him over again. Finally, she spoke, "My first name hasn't been used in years; I'm surprised anyone remembers it. I prefer being called Keeling, anyway. Or Second Lieutenant."

"Fair enough," he raised his hands, halting any further talk of that, "But how about where you were born? What were you before the service? What operations did you fight in? What's it like fighting under the captain? Any relatives? Any...?"

"Is this an interrogation?" she blurted out, cutting him off.

He shrugged, "If you mean 'do you have to answer this?' The short answer is no. The long answer is that I'd prefer you answer at least some of them."

"Read my dossier," Keeling blatantly responded, "Its got everything you need to know. I'm sure if you ask the captain nicely, he'll let you have a peak if you're that nosey."

He sighed, "Damn Keeling, you're a tough nut to crack. How stubborn can a woman be? I'm just trying to get to know you."

"Its not necessary," she stated, moving to retrieve, "If you want to get to know me, read my dossier. That's about as much as I care to offer."

Without thinking, James blurted out, "You were terrifed."

She froze in place, and he watched one of her hands clench up, gripping her rifle that much harder, her knuckles becoming abnormally white from tension. Then she unclenched it, and slowly turned to face him, her irritated gaze gone and replaced with a blank gaze. He knew that look. It was the look of someone with something to hide.

"Pardon?" she asked, calmly but slowly, as if holding back some inner urge.

He gulped, choosing his next words carefully as an architect would looking over blueprints. Except Keeling's blueprints were laced with landmines, and one misstep and it was all over, "That time when we...sparred. When you...lost it."

Her eyes remained blank, but he noticed her hand clench on the rifle again, this time so tight he thought she might pop a vein, "Stop."

Despite all the signs telling him to stop, he kept going, like the idiot he was, "When you...attacked me. You told me to get away. That I wouldn't...violate you. Loco had to get you off of me because you were ready to open my throat..."

"Stop," she stated, a bit more forcefully this time, taking a step forward, but he swore he saw something else in her eyes...a silent plea?

"And it was then I realized," he concluded, hammering the final nail in his coffin, "It was because of what you told me. How I straddled you. It brought back memories of that time those men tried to rape you. How you killed them. And when I straddled you, you thought it was happening all over again. You were angry, confused but I saw one thing you didn't."

" _Vega_ ," she warned, her voice laced with danger and he saw her lips crease to the side, as if prepared to spit, "I said  _stop._ "

"You. Were. Scared," he finished.

She moved forward, looking about ready to punch him, coming to stand right infront of him. For his part, he did not flinch, knowing what he had wrought upon himself. He held his position, gazing up into her eyes. He saw her eyes twitch, her fist clench and unclench. It was a tense silence, almost like everyone in the shuttle bay had just left or held their breath and then, within a moment, it broke.

A rifle clattered to the floor, ignored and spent. Keeling's grip loosened, blood flowing back into her hand as she took a steady step back, her cold gaze broken and taking a deep breath as she looked away from him, as if ashamed. Suddenly, she moved over to his gun bench and pulled herself up onto its surface, meeting his eyes again, this time with the same composure she had before...before he mentioned it. _She's like a robot._ "Well...you're not going to leave me alone until I talk, so I guess it couldn't hurt. What did you wish to know? As long as its nothing...intrusive."

 _"If you ever mention anything else about what happened again, I'll make you regret it."_ Is basically what she was saying. James regained his smarts and knew to stay clear of that, but it got her attention at least. He nodded, clearing his throat. He had her, and now he didn't know what to ask. With a gulp, he met her eyes and began.

"Where were you born?"

"That's it?" Keeling asked, incredulous, "First question, and you ask where I'm born?"

"What do you want from me?" he almost growled, "You said nothing too intrusive, and I didn't think your birth place was very intrusive so I just went for it."

She sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before nodding, moving a piece of hair out of her face and curling it around her ear, "Very well. I was born in Washington D.C, back in UNAS on Earth. At least...I think I was. My memory during that period was very fuzzy. I do remember seeing the White House however...just a monument now of course, but...I still remember it, clear as day. Reapers have probably reduced it to dust now, so I guess it doesn't matter. There you go, now you know. Are we done?"

He whistled, holding up his hands, "Slow down, we've barely started!"

"I'm sure we've been through this before," Keeling reasoned, "We've already talked about this. I was born in Washington, I didn't know my parents, I was forced to live with the Tenth Street Reds gang, and when I was almost old enough to join the military, I had to fight off some rapists," she visibly gulped at that, "I killed them all and now I'm an N7. That's all you need to know."

He rolled his eyes, looking at her with a frustrated look, "But I want to know the person! Hearing you read it off...its like reading a book! How did those events make you  _feel_?"

She shook her head, "I don't know what your game is, but I'm not playing it. Everyone on this ship has a job to do, and so do you. So do I. So let's get back to it." She moved to stand, but James stood at the same time he did, hands clenched at his sides.

"You can't shell it all up forever you know," James muttered, meeting her eyes as she spoke louder, "One day, you're going to want someone to talk to, and you won't find any if you shut people out like that. I just want to talk to you like a human being."

She laughed bitterly, leaning down to pick up her finished rifle, and she simply looked at him, her gaze almost looking like she pitied him, "I shut people out for one simple reason: they get too close, and that's when you crack. Just look at Jacob Taylor," she stepped forward until she was face to face with him, "He died, he let people get close, and now he has a grieving fiance and our captain mourns while there's a war on. That's why I don't let people in. Because if I do...that'll be me. I plan on being the survivor."

He frowned at her, "That's a pretty bleak way of looking at it."

She shrugged, turning to walk back over to her area of the bay, "There is no other way of looking at it. That's just how it is. Get with the program Vega, but it won't get with you. You either learn to keep your emotions in check, or let them control you; but someday, just like yesterday, those emotions will master you, and you will be weak. Javik understands that."

He snorted, crossing his arms, "You can't seriously agree with that pandejo, can you?"

She nodded, almost around the corner when she spoke, "I can, and I do. He's right. Sure, the protheans lost. But I can tell you they'll last a hell of alot longer than we will if the captain keeps this up."

"Don't talk about the Captain like that," James growled back, shouting, "He's a strong man! He's a hero!"

"This war doesn't need heroes," Keeling shouted back, "It needs victories. And if he were so strong, then where is he now?" And with that, she disappeared behind the crates of her area and James shook his head, leaning against the bench again.

He glanced to the elevator, sighing as he wondered just what Marcus was up to in that cabin of his.

**{Loading...}**

_June 20, 2186_

_1349 hours._

_Combat Information Center, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Yeoman Kelly Chambers, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor._

The voice played throughout his mind as he gazed neverendingly into the galaxy map's core, gripping the railing in a vice and never flinching from his frozen position.

 _"Commander? I didn't think you'd be up yet."_ Jacob's first words to him when they first met on Lazarus Station.

 _"I'm Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor by the way and I can help you with any questions you might have. Of course, most of the little details were explained when you first woke up, but we didn't go into detail. I can tell you the specifics, but the rest will have to be explained when we get the hell of this station. Deal?"_ Marcus remembered that entire sentence like it was yesterday. Funny, didn't mean much now. But today, Marcus realized that through Jacob, he had found out Tali survived the Normandy's destruction. Jacob had told him that. Given him hope two years after his first death.

 _"Miranda's right," he stated, "Everyone here knew what they signed up for with Lazarus. They were ready to give their lives for the project, for_ _ **you.**_ _They were willing to die."_ Marcus would give a bitter laugh at that now.  _Is that what you did, Jacob? Did you willingly die? For me?_

 _"Any commander worthy of his stripes is a man I serve," Jacob snapped a salute, "I'm here to stay, commander."_ He sighed, wiping his forehead.  _That wasn't very long, Jacob. You didn't stay very long. And now you're gone._

 _"Yeah, I hear you," Jacob spoke up, moving to stand beside him, snapping a quick salute, "I don't know you as well as everyone else Commander, but in the time I've served with you, I know that when the fight comes, I'll be there, waiting. Right now, all I can do is stay hidden from Cerberus. Maybe help out the Broker with some information searching. Best I can do really. Can't return to Earth unless I want to be arrested, so that option is out."_ Damn it Jacob. Damn it...you could have been there. You could have joined us in one final battle...

_"She's a bit special..."_

_"Girlfriend, still. Although I have proposed, and she will marry me, when we're actually safe from Cerberus," he shrugged, "She's even pregnant. She's due in four months." And now she's but a widow...and a single parent. A girl without a father..._

_"With all this over, and Brynn safe, do you think..."_

_"Do you think me and Brynn could join the Normandy? I couldn't ever leave her side, but it would be nice to fight with you again. I just hope this Vega guy hasn't messed up my armoury."_

_Pain. Stop. No, stop._

Pain was welling up in his chest. He could feel it. He knew what was coming, and he didn't want to hear it again. He didn't. No not his last words, please no...

_"Well that's okay then..."_

_Stop..._

_"Because me and Brynn?"_

_STOP!_

_"We're going to help you win this war..."_

_ENOUGH!_

_"I_ _**did** _ _say I'd kill you."_

_SILENCE!_

His trance was broken, and everything was brought back into normal view in time for him to feel a hand on his shoulder, five-fingers and grasping it. The hand wasn't blue, so it wasn't Liara. Who was pestering him? He wanted them to go away. Couldn't he have five minutes to himself?

The hand shook him, and this time he heard Kelly shouting at him, "Shepard! Stop ignoring me! That won't solve anything! Shepard!  _Shepard!_ Shepa-"

He whorled in an instant, knocking her hand away angrily, "WHAT!? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!?"

Kelly almost flew back from his outburst, eyes widening in terror as she held up her hands, almost as if to placate him. Samantha seemed to flinch from her terminal as well, visibly shaken by his loud voice. Seeing the fear he instilled in them, he shrunk back, his angry expression dying as he rubbed his eyes, reducing his intimidated posture back down to nothing.

"Sorry," was all he could manage.

Kelly nodded, her hands falling back to her side and gulping, looking to Traynor, as if for clarification that everything was okay. Samantha simply nodded at her, returning to her terminal and continuing whatever work it was she had been doing.

Kelly straightened her uniform, nodding as she smoothed her hair, which had fallen in her hair when she had jumped back in fright, "Its okay, Shepard, just startled, that's all. But we need to talk. You're worrying the crew."

He scrunched up his lips, frowning, "I'm aware of that. But what the hell am I supposed to do? A friend of mine is dead and his murderer lives. How the fuck am I supposed to react?"

Kelly nodded, scratching her neck, "They understand that, Shepard. We all do. But you can't keep acting like this. Mordin's cure will be ready tomorrow, but we can't leave if you're-"

"Nothing has changed. The mission remains the same," Marcus stated simply, eyes glaring into her, "We go to Tuchanka, unleash the cure and leave. Me losing a friend isn't going to change what needs to be done. I'm still fit for duty."

"Are you sure about that?" Came another voice, and they both turned to see Chakwas, arms crossed and glaring at him like he was some adversary. Like he was...was... _Kai Leng,_ "Because from what I see, you aren't fit to lead a two-man fireteam."

He turned to her, waving an arm at her, "What the fuck do you know of it?"

"Know of what? Loss?" Chakwas snorted, and she quickly moved up to him, slapping him across the face faster than he could react. His eyes flared as he glared down at her, but she responded before he could say anything, his breathing getting heavier, "Two years ago, we lost  _you._ We lost  _Pressly._ We lost  _Johnson._  This crew has encountered loss _three_ times, and Jacob is but the  _forth._ So don't ask me what I know of it!"

"It doesn't change the fact that Jacob's dead!" he roared back, moving back as he began to pace angrily, venting all his frustration, "That his killer is still fucking loose! That the fucking scumbag gets to wonder around knowing that he killed my friend and lived to talk about it! HE DESERVED TO DIE! And you know the worst part? I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT!"

"Enough," Chakwas snapped, "Don't you dare try that crap with me. Not again. Always blaming yourself for things that are out of your control! You need to under-"

"I  _had_ him!" he snarled in her face, spittle landing on her face as he gritted his teeth, looking like some kind of rabid dog, "I could have  _killed him!_ He was wounded and breaking! All I needed to do was draw my omni-blade and take his head. Instead, my team pulled me away, let him get away! I could have killed Kai Leng and Jacob would be alive today!" he moved away, shaking his head until finally he punched the bulkhead next to him, causing Chakwas to flinch from the sudden sound, but remaining indifferent, "I COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM! I could have...I could of...I might have...but you stopped me...pulled me away...I could have stopped him..."

"Shepard, we only want to help," Kelly pleaded, hand on his shoulder, "We know you're suffering. The crew has seen it. You need to stop pretending that everything is okay because we know it-"

Marcus looked at her, laughing bitterly, "Okay? You think I  _pretend to think_ everything is okay? Nothing is okay! This galaxy is fucked! I'm fucked! Our entire situation is fucked! Earth fell, Anderson's still down there, Cerberus has militarized, the Council are still a bunch of ignorant fucktards, the turians want the fucking krogan before they'll do shit, the asari and salarians are dumb as dog-shit, we're waiting on a damn cure, the Primarch lost his fucking  _son,_ and now Jacob is dead and Kai Leng  _lives_!" he grabbed Kelly by the collar and pushed her into the bulkhead, slamming her against her back, "I DON'T PRETEND EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT! IT ISN'T! IT FUCKING ISN'T! EVERYTHING IS  **FUCKED!** " he let go of her, eyes piercing hers, "I help everyone  _else_ pretend everything is okay. That we can win. That our friends will be fine and everything will go back to normal. You want to delude yourselves, fine," he turned to Chakwas, a dangerous glint in his eye, "But I won't be a part of it. I'm the realist. Javik was right."

"Javik was right?" Chakwas frowned, "About what, exactly?"

"That we can't win this war and expect to come out with our morals intact," he looked between the both of them, "But he was also wrong. We can't win this war. I should have seen this from the start. I'm no fucking  _hero._ I'm not some  _paragon._ I'm not some guy who can achieve the impossible! I blew up a  _star system_ with three hundred thousand in it! What hero does that? What paragon snaps the neck of an asari spectre who's trying to surrender? Me, merciful? I'm not merciful! I'm a ruthless scumbag! But that's what's needed to win this! Is that enough? NO! I've been trying to play God this entire fucking time and it isn't working!"

"You don't believe that," Chakwas stated simply, "You can't."

"But...you're our only hope," Samantha whimpered, "You're...meant to save us all. You know about this threat more than anyone. You can beat them!"

He whorled on her, "Really? Your only hope? If I'm all the hope you have then you've just proven me right: there is no way to win this. Because your only hope is a man who is broken, tired and creaky. I don't have the capacity for this bullshit anymore."

"You cannot give up!" Chakwas growled bluntly, rushing up to him, "You can't!"

"Who the fuck are you to say I can't?" he barked, waving her off, "I am tired of this! All of it! I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of politics, and I'm tired of people trying to ask me if I'm alright! No I'm not fucking alright! I feel like shit! I've been bounced on, betrayed, slapped across the face and lied too all my life and what do I get for it? War! That's my reward! More conflict, more death, more destruction! I'm tired of losing friends! I'm tired of all this bullshit! The Reapers are going to win, I know that now."

They heard Kelly sob, and all eyes turned on her, "You can't mean that."

His eyes held no sympathy, just steely indifference, "I meant every word of it."

"You piece of shit."

Chakwas widened her eyes when she turned to see Joker, hanging to one side and glaring at Marcus like a demon. The pilot looked furious, angry and most of all, disgusted.

Marcus turned to him, glaring, "You have something to say to me,  _Jeff Moreau_?"

"Yeah, I do," Joker moved over to stand beside Samantha, Chakwas shaking her head in warning, but he ignored her, his glare never stopping, "You're an imbecile. Half the shit you just said? You're a liar, a coward and a moron. How dare you turn your back on everything you stand for...you turn your back on me, on Chakwas, on everyone on this ship! And guess what? You're turning your back on Tali!"

She saw something in Marcus' eyes harden, and she gulped when nothing but ice filled his eyes, past the stage of blind fury, "Don't you  _dare_ bring her up. She has nothing to do with this."

Joker chuckled cruelly, shaking his head, his smile mirthless, "You're a cockless  _fuck._ Tali has  _everything_ to do with this! You're not only betraying her, but you're spitting on her and everything you stand for! She fought by your side and dusted you off when you fell? And now? Now you say her efforts were mootless and that she was useless. Is that what she was?  _Useless_?"

"Tali was not useless..." she heard Marcus mutter, "She was not useless...anything but useless..."

"Doesn't sound like it!" Joker barked, his anger boiling to breaking point, "The way you put it, she seems pretty useless! Marrying you, falling in love with you, joining your crew...all seems pointless if the great Shepard is just going to  _give up_!"

"He's right," came another voice, and they all looked to the elevator to see Garrus standing there, his arms crossed and glaring at Marcus, "You need to dust yourself off and get back into the fight."

Marcus just shook his head, "What's this? The great paragade crusade? You all going to sing me bedtime stories now and tell me everything will be alright?"

"Quit being such a fucking child," Garrus snapped, moving up until he was standing right infront of Marcus, "Jacob's death hit me pretty hard. I'm feeling just as much as you are. I know what pain you're going through but does not mean you get to quit!  _Man the fuck up_!"

Marcus was right back at him, their foreheads practically touching as the situation got more and more heated, "You're telling  _me_ to man up, dino? Go fuck yourself! Maybe I should bring Sidonis in here and see what he has to say!"

The turian looked moritified for a second but then his glare returned, much stronger now, "That was uncalled for. We're just trying to-"

" _I don't want it,"_ Marcus spat, "I don't want your help, I don't want any of your help.  _All of you, just shut the fuck up and leave me alone!_ " he turned to everyone, "All of you! As your Commanding Officer, I'm  _ordering_ you to return to your posts!"

"That shit isn't going to cut it anymore," Garrus hissed, his look almost feral, "You can't keep running away from this. Its time to own up and admit you're fallible, for spirit's sake. You're not invincible, you can't save everyone and you most certainly have emotions! Jacob's death hit us all hard!"

"This isn't about Jacob anymore!" he shouted back, "This is about all of you! I will not...I cannot..." he backed away, hands on his hips, "You're like...you're like...you  _are_ my family. And I will not see another damn Reaper...or Leng..." he growled, spitting the word like some venomous poison, "Take another one of you away from me! I won't stand for it!"

"If you do nothing then it will happen again! And again!  _And AGAIN!"_ he grabbed Marcus by the shoulders, turning him to face the turian, " _They will kill me, THEY WILL KILL TALI!"_

"No...no...no..." the human muttered, over and over.

"So knock off the sob story and get up! LOOK AT ME!" Marcus finally looked into his eyes, their pits soulless and pitiless, broken and full of despair, "Don't give up! Not when we need you! When  _she_ needs you."

Marcus gulped, and the fury that had been in his eyes melted away, replaced by sadness, and finally by blank nothing. Marcus Shepard had fallen back inside himself, encasing his emotions, like law and order brought to the streets of a city that had been flooded by riots. He calmed down, his tense body loosening like a bow string being fired. Garrus let go of him, and almost immediately upon doing so, Marcus shot off towards the elevator, looking at noone.

"Where are you going?" Chakwas questioned.

Marcus stopped infront of it, but simply looked at the ground as he responded, "I'm going to get out of these clothes, get in some fresh ones. Then...I'm going to the Citadel."

"To do what?"

"None of your business. Please, just leave me alone."

"Shepard-"

Just as he entered the elevator and the door shut, Garrus shook his head at her, "Leave him be. Just...leave him be. He's coping in his own way, and he doesn't need people psychoanalyzing him."

"He needs help," Joker forlornly stated, his anger diminished, "That man...he wasn't Shepard. That was something else. Shepard would  _never_ say shit like that."

"Regardless, we should leave him be," Garrus ordered, turning to Chakwas. Seeing the worry in both her eyes and Joker's, he nodded, "But to be sure, I'll have Kasumi track him quietly. Just...I think its best we keep our distance, at least until tomorrow."

And with that, they dispersed.

But Chakwas couldn't help but think they were making a fatal mistake with leaving Marcus Shepard alone.

The last thing he needed was that.

**"Jacob's death was pretty hard on us, but what of Tuchanka? I remember what you said..."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It was horrible and it was beautiful. We changed history, and added our own. And we would never forget the sacrifices made that day."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**This chapter was a bitch to write, but I got through it alright so I guess I'm all good now. Next one won't be for a very long while though. It sucks too, because we're getting so close to Tali now that its becoming very hard not to continue writing. But school is more important, unfortunately. The show must go on.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	27. The Name of a Hero, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy arrives on Tuchanka in preparation to finally cure the genophage. But their operation hits a snag when the Reaper, Vanguard, gets involved.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**THE NAME OF A HERO PART ONE**

_June 21, 2186_

_1252 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for Tuchanka, Aralakh System, Krogan DMZ Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Professor Mordin Solus, Primarch Adrien Victus._

Almost everything in the room was dark aside from the glowing light that came from the floating hologram of Tuchanka, red lines reaching out from its surface to link to numerous data inputs such as impact sites, locations of battlefields and tactical necessities. Everything the galaxy had on Tuchanka from its first discovery to the present day was displayed, moving by at his will as he swiped through, showing little emotion as he did it.

Yesterday had been unacceptable. Marcus had let himself become compromised, to let his crew see his internal troubles, and none of them was supposed to see that. None. Not even Tali. He was supposed to be their captain, their leader, their CO. Samantha had said he was their only hope, and while he couldn't exactly agree with that sentiment, he knew it was what they personally believed. How could he so ruthlessly and callously toss that aside? If they saw him as a hero, let them. It would make them fight that much harder, and what he had done had compromised the morale of his crew, not helped it.

His inner demons were something they were never supposed to see. To let himself collapse like that...it couldn't happen again. It wouldn't. It was plain unacceptable, and Marcus knew that had it been anyone else, it wouldn't have been as crippling. It wasn't up to him to unload his burdens upon them; that wasn't his right. If he got tired, he got back up again. If he wanted peace, he had to fight for it. And he knew he couldn't retire until the job was done. He couldn't be like that anymore. The galaxy needed him to be their saviour, their champion. The bane of the Reapers.

He would be just that.

As for Jacob...that still stung Shepard, and it was still a fresh wound among the crew. The man hadn't died gloriously in battle against the Reapers as they all pictured themselves doing, and that only added salt to an already burning injury. The fact that a friend of theirs had died, his life so abruptly ended and his grieving widow working on the Crucible with no hope in her previously potential future, only made it worse, and Marcus couldn't stop rewinding the events that lead to it in his head, wondering if he could have stopped it. If there had been an ounce of a chance.

In the end, he knew the truth. Chakwas had told him, but he refused to listen. His squadmates had pulled him away because he was injured. And if he had persisted in attacking Leng...it was possible they'd both wound up dead, or, in worse case scenario, just him, and Leng would have killed Jacob anyway...only Marcus would have died as well. And he didn't want to imagine Garrus' reaction when he learnt of  _that_ news. Or Tali's.

 _Again with Tali. Focus. Forget about her._ Tali had been gone for quite sometime, and he highly doubted he would see her soon. He missed her more than he cared to admit, his cold bed and lonely showers a sad testament to his sorry state. But he couldn't afford to dwell on such things. It was more than likely she was dead, but he couldn't join her until this war was over. Only then could he put that gun in his mouth and stand to pull the trigger.

But that kind of defeatist logic got him nowhere, and he quickly refocused. He had coped with Jacob's death. Had he gotten over it? No. But in the end, he couldn't change it: he wasn't coming back, and he wouldn't want him to mope around over it. He'd want him to seek revenge. To keep fighting. To win the war and show that his death may have been without dignity or pride, but in the end, the enemy hadn't achieved an endgame conclusion out of it.

So when Marcus refocused on the map, he was back to his normal self again. Still shaken, still cracked by the events of two days passed, but normal. He had to be. He had to keep up the delusion. The air of being able to win.

He wasn't alone as he observed the holotable, his full squad standing around and observing as well, Mordin observing the terminal inquisitively, eyes dancing from side to side across it, and Wrex braced against it, silently conversing with Grunt. Garrus stood at his side, looking worried, and Marcus understood why; he had looked about to hook the turian across the face in the CIC yesterday, but he had managed to calm himself before that happened. Kasumi was beside him, her arms crossed and silently whispering.

They all waited on Victus, and once he was in, the final operation would begin; they were ready to cure the genophage. It was only a matter of finding a way to disperse it across the Tuchanka, and with all krogan recalled to the planet, there was, according to EDI, a 98 percent chance of total eradication of the genophage virus. They would cure the krogan people, and then unleash them, along with the full might of the turian military and volus fleets against the Reapers.

It wasn't the biggest, and most important moment, in not only history, but for the entire war. It wouldn't be a huge game-changer, the Reapers would still, and always, hold the advantage over them, but it would at least kick a few bullets their way to continue the fight. And to think, they were only two hours away...

But dispersing a cure to an entire planet is no easy thing, and Marcus was still incredulous at just how Mordin was going to manage it. But then he smiled, looking through the hologram to look at the salarian. He shook his head, and then refocused back on the hologram.  _He's Mordin Solus. He found a way to make us invisible to Seeker Swarms. He found a way to make humano-quarian reproduction possible. That guy can do anything._

He just finished analyzing the situation on Tuchanka when he heard the doors open; Victus must have arrived.  _Reports of at least one Reaper Destroyer having made planetfall. That doesn't sound good; why would Harbinger send one Reaper to a planet full of the most potential threats to their ground-side dominance? They would want Tuchanka evicerated as soon as possible. Razed. None of it seems right. He wouldn't send one Destroyer._

Victus quickly came to stand by his terminal, nodding to Marcus, "I've just called in the Eighteenth Fighter Squadron from Seventh Fleet. I figured we'd need air support for this one, and none of this seems to go without a hitch. They should arrive at the same time that we do," he turned to Marcus, nodding as he clasped his hands behind his back, mandibles slightly twitching, "You may begin, Captain."

He nodded, turning to Mordin, "Well, as Mordin will tell you, the cure is ready. He's tested it on Eve, and all results show she's clear. Every piece of evidence that the genophage even afflicted her is gone. She is officially cured."

Mordin nodded, turning away from the hologram to look at Wrex, meeting his blood red eyes with his own, "Yes, cure complete. Eve cured. Ready to be dispersed. However, still lack transmission vector."

Marcus frowned at the salarian, surprised by this.  _He doesn't know?_ "Wait, you're telling us you don't know to disperse this thing? You're the most brilliant scientist I know. You found a way to modify it before; you must know how to cure it  _now._ "

Mordin nodded, holding his head as he swiped through the data, "Yes, always a solution. Just need to find. Time limited, cannot create new infection strain. Ground water? No, too slow..." the salarian seemed to be battling himself, as if asking and answering his own questions, "Voluntary inoculation risky, population too widespread for airborne, unless..." suddenly the salarian froze, as if weighing a particular option he hadn't brought to light yet. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and began to type at his terminal rapidly, the hologram of the Tuchanka disappearing in a flash of holo pixels.

Replacing it was a large spire looking structure, its architecture looking...strongly salarian.

Mordin pointed to it a-matter-of-factly, eyes glowing with promise, "The Shroud! Constant dispersion of air particles! Built to sustain and repair atmosphere of Tuchanka by salarians! Can be reversed to disperse cure in particle form! Will cover entire planet!" After a moment, the salarian lost his excitement, sobering slightly as he stood up, turning to face Victus across the table, almost regretfully, "...also used by turians."

Marcus turned to Victus, looking for a explanation, and he got it almost immediately, "We used it to secretly unleash the genophage. Like Professor Solus said, we simply reversed the systems and dispersed the virus in place of air particles."

Marcus nodded, Victus expecting the captain to lash out. To his surprise, Wrex and Grunt were silent, simply glaring at him before shaking their heads and looking away. Marcus nodded, turning back to Victus, "That is now thousands of years in the past. Its time we left that behind and began at the present. We are here to cure this now, and that's what matters. Now, what we are to do about this Shroud," he turned towards Mordin, motioning for him to continue.

The salarian nodded rapidly, motioning to the consistent hologram of the salarian structure, "Yes, yes, agreed. Can use the Shroud as transmission vector. Use spire to blanket Tuchanka with cure. Will cure genophage."

Wrex smiled, nodding as he turned to Mordin, chuckling, "You clever little pyjak," he turned to the hologram, nodding at it, his grin ever present, "That's our best shot, right there."

Suddenly, the krogan's omni-tool beeped. Wrex frowned, turning down to look at the device as he opened it, looking at the message received. Suddenly, the krogan frowned, and then his frown turned into a look of anger, before he violently snarled as he hit the deactivate button more forcefully than before, turning to Marcus with frustration.

"What is it?" he asked, "What's happened?"

"My scouts just reported heavy activity on Tuchanka. They reported activity in the Wastelands before  _this_ ," he hit a button on the hologram, a new form popping up in bright red, and Marcus gritted his teeth when he saw it, "And guess what is parked at the Shroud."

There, standing infront of the Shroud in crimson red and almost a quarter of the size of the spire, was a Reaper Destroyer, standing vigil infront of the massive structure.

"A damn Reaper," Garrus cursed.

"Nothing can ever be damn easy, can it!" James protested, clearly annoyed by the change of events. They had expected Reaper troops, but not the Reaper itself. Suddenly, it dawned on Marcus. He realized just what that solo Reaper was there for. And it wasn't to conquer Tuchanka.

"Patrols that got close enough report that the Reaper refers to itself as Vanguard," Wrex continued, clearly unhappy as hope seemed less now, "Its been spitting Reaper troops all over the place. They've completely overwhelmed the ruins of a temple in the area, and they're reported to be spreading further. Although, earthquake activity in the area seems to be stopping us from making any moves."

"Vanguard," Kasumi noted, "That's what Tarquin called that Reaper he encountered."

"Its the only Reaper on Tuchanka," Marcus gloomily stated, "And it just happens to be parked at the Shroud. It makes sense now. Harbinger found out what we were doing and calculated our actions before we made them. It knew the Shroud was our best bet, and has sent a Reaper to defend it and stop us from reaching it."

"Why not just destroy it if they're so desperate to stop us?" Liara asked, frowning, "Why waste time defending it?"

"The Reapers are arrogant," Javik answered, turning to the asari, hands clasped behind his back, his comment carrying across the group as a sense of irony that they bit back chuckles at, "Destroying it would show that they are desperate to stop us from achieving our goal. They consider themselves the pinnacle of all life. Gods. They don't feel these fears, and therefore don't see the need to resort to such desperation. Besides, their confidence in themselves is absolute."

"For good reason," Keeling noted, nodding to the hologram, "Reports stated it took almost six frigates to make even a single dent in the destroyer-class Reapers, and those were state-of-the-art heavy frigates. We don't have anywhere near the firepower to destroy it."

"The Normandy could deploy the thanix and take it out from orbit," James added.

Marcus shook his head, "The blast radius and impact radius of the weapon is far too wide and could seriously damage the Shroud. And if we miss? We could end up vaporizing the Shroud altogether. No, the thanix, unless we could get Vanguard into flight and away from the Shroud, is not an option. Anymore?"

He was met with silence. He looked around again, "Anyone?"

The sound of a rough voice clearing its throat was heard, and all eyes landed on Grunt as he came to stand beside Wrex, his own, muscular arms braced against the table, "I have a plan, battlemaster, and it might just work."

"Against a Reaper without ship-based firepower?" Javik questioned incredulously, "This should be interesting."

Grunt shot him a glare, before turning back to Marcus, "I say we launch an air and ground attack...simultaneously."

"What?" Marcus asked, twitching slightly as he tried to comprehend the krogan's words, "Grunt, I know you're krogan, but brute force tactics aren't going to work here. A Reaper doesn't get confused, either. Our forces would get annihilated trying to attack it."

"Who said we would try and destroy it? My plan is a diversion," Grunt stated, bringing up what looked to be numerous holograms of tomkah tanks heading towards Vanguard, followed by what looked to be a squadron of turian fighters, "The tomkahs, while the fighters distract it, move through the ruins and deploy you close enough to the Shroud for you to get inside while Vanguard is distracted. If the fighters last that long, the cure will be successfully dispersed and then you can extract, call in the Normandy, and use the thanix without worry of hitting the Shroud as at that point, we won't need it."

Everyone was stunned into silence. Grunt, the krogan they had all known to be a hothead and eager to prove himself, had just shown tactical profiency. Marcus was impressed, grinning as he chuckled.

"Grunt, that might just work," he turned to Wrex, nodding, "How about it Wrex?" he turned to Victus, "Primarch? If we can get in contact with that fighter wing, and Wrex can rally the clans to send a convoy of tanks, we can launch this assault perfectly."

Wrex nodded, almost without considering it, "If it gets the genophage cured, I'm all for it."

Victus returned the nod, clearly in agreement, "Its insane, but its the kind of insane that might just work. I'll get in touch with the squadron immediately." With that, the turian primarch was back down at his terminal, typing out his message to his men.

"Then why are we wasting time standing around here?" Wrex pounded his fists together, slapping Grunt across the back as he marched to leave, "Let's go cure the genophage!" Grunt roared in agreement, following after him after flashing a grin in Marcus' direction. Marcus meekly smiled back, turning back to the hologram as he studied it.

He almost didn't realize that Mordin was talking to him, "...bring her down to Tuchanka. Yes?"

He shook his head, meeting the salarian's eyes, "I'm sorry?"

"Will bring Eve down to Tuchanka," Mordin repeated, and he swore he saw the salarian roll his eyes, "Need her for final sample. Final strain creation. Cannot do here, need facilities within Shroud to confirm strains are correct. Recorrect for particle dispersion."

He gulped, nodding, "Very well. I'll be here for an hour if anyone needs me. After that, I'll be in the shuttle bay armoury."

Mordin nodded and made his way towards the door, likely going back to the Tech Lab to inform Eve of the news. Everyone else began to file out but Garrus stayed behind for a bit, placing his hand on Marcus' shoulder and squeezing it, "You alright?"

"I'm fine, Garrus," he replied, nodding to the turian, "But thanks. We'll talk later. I just need to...go over the mission."

Garrus nodded, and Marcus quickly found himself alone with Victus at the table, overlooking its contents. He squared his shoulders, feeling them ache from the exercising he had done yesterday. It was his way of removing stress, and it had definitely worked wonders for him. Still, his bones ached from it all and he cracked his neck as he twisted it.

After a few minutes of looking over the mission debrief, he nodded to Victus, moving to talk with him when EDI's voice came over the intercom.

"Captain," she stated, "You have an incoming call over the QEC. It is coming from Sur'Kesh. It would appear to be Dalatrass Linron."

He frowned, "What the hell could she possibly want?" Linron and Marcus had not left on good terms, the salarian being in strong disagreement with curing the genophage. She likely hated him for his pro-nature towards it, and he hated her for simply being an arrogant, up-tight asswipe.  _I should be glad its Valern and not her on the Council._

"She did not state her reasons," EDI replied, "Only that she has attempted to contact this ship, and you were the main recipient."

He sighed, nodding as he moved up the steps and into the QEC room, approaching the main console as he hit the reply button. He hoped she had something good to say, because he wasn't in the mood for bullshit. Linron was sleezy and a bitch, and those two things made their relationship tense, unlikable and intolerable in sustaining. Still, if she wanted to talk to him it wasn't his position to tell her to fuck off. As much as he wish he could.

Blue pixels flew together in holographic fusion, coming to form the sleek form of the salarian dalatrass, her hood propped firmly over her head as it had been the last time he saw her, and hands clasped behind her back like was a stoic protector. Her eyes regarded him in a superior light, like she viewed him as an uneducated insect that needed teaching. He met her gaze back, eyes cold and impatient, showing her that she could not intimidate him, and would not waste his time anymore than she already was.

"What do you want?" he asked, allowing the annoyance to enter his tone, "I've got things to do and you're the last person I want to play ball with."

Linron took no notice of his insult and immediately spoke, "We know you're about to reach Tuchanka."

"Anything else you'd like to point out?" Marcus asked, holding back a sarcastic chuckle, "You've been such a genius detective so far."

"...and by now, I know Professor Solus has proposed using the Shroud," she smiled smugly.

He frowned now, unable to help the surprise coming onto his face. But he held back most of it. He would not give the dalatrass her due, "You've got my attention. How do you know about that?"

"Hardly," she smugly replied, crossing her arms, "Your goal is to disperse the cure, and the only viable option to that end  _is_ the Shroud. It did not take masterful deduction to figure that out," and, as soon as she finished, the floodgates of her close-mindedness opened, "Captain, you can't allow the misguided sympathy for the krogan to cloud your judgment."

He snorted, "You're trying this again? I'll do what the fuck I want. I'll fight this war the way  _I_ want to fight it, and if I think the krogan have endured enough, then they've endured enough. If you've come to tell me otherwise, you're wasting your breath."

"Wait," she held up a hand to halt him, eyes regarding him logically, "Do you honestly think curing the genophage will end in everlasting peace? Hear me out, and you might think differently."

He chuckled, turning back and crossing his arms, "Humor me. Make me laugh, and I'll go away an amused man."

"Listen and you'll be a convinced man," she said simply in response, "What  _will_ happen is that the krogan will breed out of control and the Rebellions will happen all over again. And what of those looking for revenge against the genophage? They will seek war! Wrex is a fool to think he can keep them under control! We uplifted the krogan specifically for their violent nature and ability to wage war! Not for their...diplomatic skills," she said the last two words like they stunk, words that didn't quite match in the same sentence.

"If you've got a point to this, you'd better reach it soon," Marcus growled, "My patience is withering."

She uncrossed her arms, clasping them behind her back again, but otherwise taking no further notice of his impatient behaviour, "Years ago, the Dalatrasi authorized an STG operation that ended in the sabotage of the Shroud; a safety countermeasure to ensure that what you're trying to do, couldn't be done," he thought he almost saw a smile on her lips, "So when the cure is dispersed, the Shroud's systems will detect the foreign particles and immediately shut down, preventing the exchange."

Marcus' nostrils flared angrily, "You...you knew about this all along, didn't you? And you just...let us fumble around. Formulating a cure only to tell me this now?"

She nodded, "I did; I wanted to see how far you were willing to go. It seems you're willing to go  _too_ far," she emphasized, shaking her head, "When you access the Shroud and inform Solus of this, the professor will be made aware of the change before the cure is deployed. And, due to his knowledge on STG tech, he will be able to successfully reverse the sabotage done and deploy the cure."

He frowned, "Why are you telling me this? Why would you tell me, knowing I'll tell Mordin?"

For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, but then she spoke again, eyes never leaving his, "Because Professor Solus does not need to know."

He felt himself grip the railing much more tightly, "Excuse me? If you think I'm not going to tell Mordin, then you're more delusiona-"

Linron jumped in almost immediately, cutting off the rest of his sentence, "The genophage cure will be released, but the variables changed just enough so that it fails. The krogan will be none the wiser, Wrex will be oblivious to your actions and you will get a handsome reward for your moral decision."

 _Moral Decision?_ "No  _reward_ could make betray-"

"I will give you the entire Salarian Union," she blurted out, causing him to stop as he listened to her, "Of all the races, our fleets and armies have been left unmolested by the war. We are superior in the technological sector, we have more engineers than the turians and by the far the krogan, our fleets are fresh and awaiting battle, and the STG is just waiting for my orders. All of it can be yours and the UGC's, if you ensure the cure fails."

For once, Marcus had no response. His mouth moved up and down, trying to formulate a response, but he couldn't. This time was a rare occassion; he was speechless. Thoughts danced across his mind, including how much he wanted to throttle this bitch.  _The fresh armies of the Salarian Union or the devastated Turian Hierarchy and comparatively small krogan army? How do I...I...could I really betray Mordin, betray Wrex, betray Grunt...betray the_ _ **entire krogan people**_ _just for one faction?_

He gripped the railing as hard as he could, willing the right answer to come from his mouth. But nothing happened, and he just stood there, looking at her dumbly.

"That, and our engineers can help with the Crucible," Linron added, as if sugar-coating her already tempting deal, "Our engineers are the best in the galaxy, and with all of them helping build your Crucible, you will win this war much more quickly than you think."

"I...I cannot..." he stuttered, shaking his head.  _I cannot..._

Linron merely nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips, as if convinced she had successfully bribed him, "Think about it, Captain. Would you rather the battered turians or krogan, or the fresh salarian armadas? It isn't a hard choice, really."

"Damn you..." he growled, " _Damn_ you..."

"The choice is yours," Linron stated, "Make sure it is the right one. For the galaxy's sake, and yours." Marcus barely noticed the dim light of the QEC die down, Linron's form disappearing in bright light before the room was dark once more.

_The salarians or a new beginning for the krogan people?_

Marcus hated that he had to think about it. He hated himself for even having an internal debate about it.

It would be thirty minutes before he left that room, and Marcus realized one sickening thought. One that he left that room with knowing what it would wrought.

Linron's offer was very tempting.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1507 hours._

_UT-47A Stealth Kodiak Shuttle, Inbound for the Hollows, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Professor Mordin Solus, Eve, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

Marcus sighed as he sat, barely feeling the rocking of the shuttle as it shot through the harsh, battering winds of Tuchanka, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor of the kodiak. He pondered Linron's deal, thinking it through, weighing the morals of such a decision, and then the worst part: should he go through with it. Should he really indirectly sabotage the cure? Just to secure the Salarian Union's allegiance to the UGC? Was that worth more than the loyalty of the krogan clans, Turian Hierarchy and Volus Protectorate? But the difference between them and the Union, was that Sur'Kesh and a large number of the salarian colonies had been left untouched, as well as a large majority of the salarian military. Which meant morale was an all time high.

He hated it. The fact that he forced himself to think of it, the fact that even  _considered_ betraying his closest friends and doom an entire people to destruction, disgusted him. He hated himself for it, despised himself, and he just wanted to wish the thoughts away and live the hero. Cure the genophage and fly off to the Citadel knowing he had changed history in a positive way.

Instead, his head was full of sabotage. Of betrayal. Of self-disgust.

One thing was for sure; when this thing was over, however it ended, he would find Linron, and he would fucking kill her. She was a spiteful piece of shit; she had done this on purpose, letting them reach this point just so she could crash their plans down around them. She had intended her bribe to work, dangled the ball of yarn right infront of him and told him to kill the other cat if he wanted it. And he had fallen for it, willingly, hook, line and sinker.

His squad moved about, oblivious to his predicament. Wrex held a hopeful smile on his face, and he traded insults and jokes with Garrus like the fate of the krogan people wasn't in the balance. Kasumi hid back and silently bobbed her head up and down to the beat of the music beating through her headphones, stealing looks at Garrus' behind whenever she could. Javik remained stoic, eying EDI with maliceful worry, and Liara eyed him from the sidelines, both with curiosity and annoyance at his hostile attitude. James and Keeling sat next to each other, James pointing out suggestions for her rifle while Keeling took note, adding whatever modifications he suggested.

Mordin seemed to be engaged in conversation with Eve, something Marcus would have found amusing and ironic, had he not been so deep in thought. In the end, he supposed it didn't matter. Why dwell on such things when he was going to stab them in the back, anyway?

 _I make it sound like I've decided._ Maybe he had and his mind just hadn't comprehended it yet. Maybe he had accepted it ever since Linron first mentioned it. Maybe the fate of an entire people, a cure, had been decided up in space, long before they had reached this planet.  _Maybe I am what I feared..._

_**...serve us...** _

He winced, a tiny throb at the back of his head. It was momentary, a meer whisper in his mind, but it startled him all the same.  _Where did that come from?_

_**...we are the vanguard...you are ours...serve us...serv-** _

A large armoured form sitting down on his left broke his thoughts, the spectre looking up to meet Wrex's large, and to this day, still intimidating, blood red eyes, a large smug grin on his face.

"I've ordered the clans to assemble at the Hollows," he stated, "You should remember it. Its where Grunt earned his clan name."

It had been a year ago, but Marcus had remembered it. The tough battle. The swarms of varren and klixen. The harvesters. The thresher maw...memories of how he froze in fear flashed across his mind, along with Tali's comforting embrace. Yes, how comforting it was.  _How I'd yearn for a nice Tali hug at this point...no, stop it. Focus. Focus. Genophage. Cure. Linron's Deal. Right, got it._

He nodded, coughing to clear his throat, "I remember. We'll launch the attack from there?" It was more of a statement, really. Wrex knew the plan. Grunt had already dispatched in seperate shuttles with his Aralakh Company, and they would meet them at the Hollows with everyone else. The attack was planned, it was just a matter of carrying it out.

Wrex nodded, "The clans will bring their tomkahs as I've ordered them too. Once that turian squadron falls in, we can take the fight to Vanguard. End the genophage, once and for all," he breathed in, exhaling straight after, "A thousand of years of suffering and torture. My people will finally see it end."

 _Not if I have anything to say about it._ He mentally cursed himself.  _Stop it. You haven't decided yet. The deal isn't done until the moment has arrived. There's still time to think._ The reassurance felt bitter, honestly.  _Yes, but eventually, you have to stop thinking and make a move._

He was so enraptured by his own thoughts that he didn't hear Wrex finish one of his grandiose speechs, "...will be a defining moment in krogan history!"

"Krogan history full of defining moments," Mordin noted, unhooking his SMG and sliding a hand over its sleek cover, seemingly glad to be back in action, "Most bloody. Hope this one better," the salarian smiled, holstering his SMG on his hip, "Good to be back in action. Look forward to changing history. Should be fun. Interesting. Lots of possibilities. Baby boom would be much appreciated. Much applauded. Krogan children rare sight."

Marcus seemed to look right through Mordin, and when he looked back, he swore he saw green blood leaking from a bullet hole in his left shoulder.

But when his eyes refocused, he saw there was nothing there. He rubbed his eyes, looking back down at the ground, confused at what he saw.  _What was that?_

"Captain," Eve's voice addressed him, low and full of curiosity, "You seem troubled."

He almost panicked. But then he realized that she couldn't know about the Dalatrasi's deal. She merely saw his slouched posture and figured something was wrong...that's all...He looked up at her, and he saw that all eyes in the shuttle were now fixed on him. He was in the spotlight, and he either lied or told the truth. Could he afford the latter? He really did want to tell them... _maybe they'll understand..._

_Oh, but that's the burden of command. You take the responsibility of moralistic integrity. You're either a hero or the villain...but you can't have your friends choose that for you. But because its alot easier to see someone close to you as a hero..._

In the end, he elected not to tell them, and lied. It killed him inside to do it, but he couldn't tell them. At least not yet, "Its nothing. Just...its nothing. Guess I'm just a tad anxious to get this done."

"You..." Garrus gulped, coming to sit down next to her, "What happened in the CIC...what Joker said...I miss her too."

He looked up at the turian, immediately understanding who he meant, and he smiled, nodding as the turian grasped his shoulder, "I know," he added a bit of humour to the situation, "But I miss her more."

"Of course you do," Garrus remarked, grinning, "If I missed her more, then relationships would be questioned."

"And someone would be tasting crisp, galactic air," Marcus chuckled.

Suddenly, the entire shuttle shook, Marcus banging his head against the bulkhead behind him. His vision blurred momentarily, glad his cybernetics took the brunt of the damage as he felt a dull throb at the back of his skull, and something warm.  _It'll be a light concussion, thankfully._ As he looked around, others were getting up, Wrex roaring into his comms as Marcus shouted to Cortez in the cockpit.

"What the hell just happened!?"

"Almost got hit my a tomkah shell!" the pilot shouted back, swerving the shuttle out of the way of what was likely another shell, "The whole place is alight! We've got harvesters airborne in the area! That's probably what the tomkahs are shooting at!"

_Fuck._

"Damn it Wreav, rally in the Hollows!" he heard Wrex growl, "Get all the clans and fortify your position! We're about to deploy, we'll be there soon!" the krogan's omni-tool deactivated, growling. He turned to Marcus, teeth bared as he drew his claymore shotgun, "Damn Reaper must have known we were coming! Reaper troops are swarming all over the Hollows! Looks like we'll be spilling blood alittle early!"

He nodded, motioning to his team as he grabbed his helmet and latched it over his head, grabbing the closest weapon on his body that he could; quickly bringing his N7 Hurricane to life. He turned to his squad, immediately issuing orders, "Cortez, bring us in as close as you can! Garrus, Kasumi, Keeling, James and Mordin, you're all with me! The rest of you, stay here and protect Eve  _at all costs._ Wrex, I gather that you're coming?"

The krogan grinned, "Wouldn't miss it."

He nodded, moving to the front as he levelled his Hurricane, "Keep close and stay frosty! Kill anything that moans and push through to the Hollows!"

The shuttle jerked up as they hit the ground, and the battering winds ceased as the shuttle's weight planted firmly on the dusty, broken stone of the ruined superstructure.

"We're down!" Came Cortez's voice and once the hatch shot open, all hell broke loose.

Three husks stood idle outside, but upon hearing the hatch open, their heads snapped up and they immediately ran towards the group. Growling, Marcus took aim and fired, his shot penetrating the husk's skull and downing it instantly. A claymore shotgun gutted the second one, and and a particle rifle decapitated the third.

Sweeping his SMG across the area, he saw their landing zone was clear; but the smell of blood, smoke and fire was in the air, moving through the area like a foul stench. He kept an eye on the corridor ahead while his squad fell in, Wrex taking his place beside the spectre and pumping a fresh shell into the chamber of his heavy shotgun.

Moans and growls could be heard inside, a testament to what lay ahead. Marcus turned one final time to the shuttle, eying Liara, EDI and Javik as they stood protectively around Eve. He nodded to them, reassuring them that he was confident they would keep the krogan female safe. With a nod to his own squad, they pushed forward and down the stone steps, keeping an eye on everything infront of them.

The door at the end slid open with a grinding clunk, and when it finished, they watched a patrolling cannibal immediately spin to face them, along with five more of its bodies and numerous abominations.

They all knew how this worked, and immediately fired on the nearest abomination. In an explosion of bright crimson, the explosive husk disappeared, causing a cascade of explosions as they rest detonated and vaporized all the cannibals patrolling with them. When the dust cleared, all that was left was scorched stone walls and floors. The smell of refuse stunk the air, and a musty smell wafted from the non-existent corpses. His squad just plowed through, Wrex showing a huge indifference towards the smell that seemed to follow them until they moved around the corner.

There were more corridors, along with more Reaper soldiers. But it was nothing substantial; a couple of marauders, several cannibals, many more husks and at least one scion. Wrex practically dealt with the scion himself, tossing it about with his biotics before finishing it while the rest of his squad dispatched of the Reaper soldiers with relative ease and continued.

They could war cries coming from behind the next door, which must have meant the krogan had engaged the Reapers in battle outside. The N7 turned to his friend, nodding and then to his squad, giving another nod. They were ready.

He tapped the interface and it shot open, Mordin practically the first one in with his Locust SMG sweeping the stone staircase infront of them, dust blowing off in plumes as it was disturbed by the salarian's footsteps.

The Hollows. It looked like the Coliseum back on Earth, but the purpose was much different; it was the burial ground for many important krogan, and a memorial to the krogan's ancestors from before the Rachni Wars and after the Krogan Rebellions. It was huge, made from colossal walls of stone, and audience seats made up the perimeter and stood high above; the center stage being a ring of the same dusty, orange stone that permeated the structure, now faded in colour and littered with orange blood. He had been here when Grunt had become part of Clan Urdnot.

Now he was here to fight Reapers.

The Hollows was a battleground. In the audience seats were the mutilated corpses of numerous Reaper abominations, but among them every once and a while, a dead krogan lay, their bodies clawed and scythed and eviscerated. But all around krogan still put a fight, Marcus turning in time to see one grab a husk off his back and toss it over the wall to smash its skull into the ground, the krogan then grabbing the marauder's head and smashing it into a stone wall, its head caving in like jelly, and the krogan just moved onto his next target.

In the center arena, a krogan charged and knocked aside two husks before pummelling another, and then unloading his claymore into the gut of a scion, blowing it wide open. A brute shoved the dead scion aside however and pummelled the krogan, causing him to drop his claymore and fall to the ground as the brute then crushed him, pancaking his head to the floor in a bloody mess of bone and muscle, with its fist. The brute gave a growl and then moved over to another krogan, which had just shot it with a missile launcher.

He heard a moan, and he turned in time to see a husk climb over the staircase and rush at him. Instead, a bullet slammed into the side of its head, sending it flying down the steps to land at the bottom, black ichor bubbling from the wound. He turned to see Mordin reload in time for him to bring up his omni-tool and launch an incinerate towards another husk, causing to combust into flames, body wreathing before its blackened corpse simply fell the ground, all its cybernetics burnt out.

"Have not lost touch for combat," Mordin noted, smiling as he deactivated his omni-tool, rearing his SMG again, "Feels good."

Marcus only smiled as they continued down the steps to face the Reaper attack.

Wrex wasted no time in bringing up his biotics, immediately rushing to engage the brute. Marcus holstered his SMG and brought out his mattock, sending a biotic warp of his own flying into a nearby cannibal, before emptying a few bursts into its chest, killing it. He quickly moved to the next one, an abomination, and send it exploding, taking numerous husks around it in the fiery combustion.

Mordin really was at the top of his game. The salarian ducked under the swipe of a husk and sent an overload running through it, its body jerking as it fell to the floor and its cybernetics died, one by one. A marauder took aim at him and got off three shots into the salarian's shields before Mordin returned fire, taking no more than four bursts to breach the turian husk's shields and then blow its brains out, eye socket exploding from the final shot and sending black ichor spitting across the ground and across the professor's labcoat. But Mordin showed no sign of caring, simply continuing his show of massacring the Reaper forces.

Garrus and Kasumi worked as a cohesive unit, both of them back-to-back in some kind of comic book, action hero show of comradeship. While crouched and shouldering his mattock, Kasumi stood and was cloaked, coughing out shot after shot from her SMG at the enemy around them, downing husks and cannibals and marauders alike.

Wrex dealt with the brute pretty quickly, quickly moving over to bigger things to kill. James' Revenant was just shredding anything that came out of the corridor, and Keeling was just carving through any that came near her, the woman never seeming to tire, or at least show no sign of it. A husk managed to get the jump on her and she fell to the ground, but she quickly regained the upperhand and got ontop of it, forcing her omni-blade up through its jaw. Standing up, she continued her butchery.

Marcus largely kept to himself, electing to follow Keeling's example; kill as many Reaper troops as possible before reinforcements arrive and push them back. So as it was, he was practically just shooting anything that moved with quick, methodical precision; headshot after headshot, more and more black blood finding a home on his Terminus Assault Armor, dripping down his chestplate and helmet visor like water from a rainy day.

"HAHAHA!" came a familiar voice, and Marcus looked up to see Grunt and his company arrive up in the audience area, Grunt a force to be reckoned with by himself; the young krogan supersoldier swatting three husks aside like they were flies before tackling a marauder against a stone pillar, crushing its feeble body against it, before he grabbed a cannibal by the throat, threw it to the ground, and caved its face in with his boot. Then the rest of his commandos arrived, and more husks and abominations quickly found themselves raining from the sky as they were expelled from their territory; violently.

It was becoming evident that Vanguard's troops couldn't keep this up. They didn't have the numbers a full Reaper battlegroup would have had, and Vanguard was just a single destroyer; he'd only have a few hundred soldiers at best, maybe just over six hundred. He'd have to spend them wisely, and using them in a futile attack on the Hollows wasn't one. He'd want them for defending the Shroud; it knew that.

And Vanguard did just as he predicted.

After decapitating one final husk, he spun around, mattock ready, to find that no other enemy was waiting for him; none leaping to their death or trying to rip his throat out. Just nothing. A matter of fact, it was almost deadly silent if it wasn't for the cheers of krogan throughout the structure.

Then, the silence was broken, Grunt's voice booming throughout the chamber, "Hahaha! They are running!"

Marcus turned, letting his mattock fall to his side and smiled meekly. They were indeed running.

The remainder of the Reaper forces moved in a steady retreat, marauders and cannibals providing cover fire while the brutes, husks, scions, abominations and husks fell back through whatever exits they could find. Some brutes tore entire doors from hinges and tossed them aside, running down the corridors to their escape. Noone pursued them, not even the krogan, all of them simply gathering around and cheering. They actually  _won_ against a Reaper force. Not a delaying action, but an actual  _victory._

But he knew Vanguard was far from finished. They still had to deal with the Reaper itself.  _And Vanguard won't retreat. Its all by itself; it'll fight to the death, and it won't need to; its practically invincible, considering the firepower we have available._

He holstered his mattock, turning to see his squad quickly falling in, following suit as they all took a breather and reloaded, knowing the fight had only just begun.  _Will the fight be pointless?_ More thoughts of sabotage invaded his mind, and he banished them from his mind.  _Leave that bullshit for later._

He tapped his comm to the shuttle, "Javik, the area is clear and the Reaper troops are falling back. Bring Eve out into the Hollows, but watch your corners. We don't want some lucky sniper getting off a shot, or some ambush to get her killed. Run here if you have to, but keep her in your sights. Shepard out," with that, he cut the comm, turning in time to see Wrex standing ontop of a large podium in the middle of the center stage, all the krogan in the area gathering around him, from clans Urdnot, Gatatog, Weyrloc, and numerous others. Even Aralakh Company gathered, Grunt taking his place next to Wrex as his bodyguard, his claymore still out and the krogan wiping fresh blood from the barrel.

The krogan widened his arms as Marcus and his squad made his way over to him, voice echoing throughout the building, "They'll sing battle-songs about this someday! Reaper blood has finally  _soaked our soil!_  They flee before us! None of our allies have managed such a feat yet!"

The krogan in the Hollows roared as one, cheering and raising their weapons high above their heads as they beat their chests in tandem, snarling and growling their agreement in numerous tones, smiling and grinning, slapping each other's backs and shouting krogan chants that his translator couldn't quite interpret.

Quickly, he reached the front along his team, the krogan cheers slowly dying down as he came to stand infront of Wrex.

"We have to hurry," Marcus stated, Mordin, Garrus, Kasumi, Keeling and James arriving at his side, "Victus has probably called in the airstrike by now and there'll be no time to call it off. We need to rally and hit Vanguard immediately."

Wrex looked about to respond about another, more irritated, aggressive and agitated voice boomed through the arena.

"What the hell is this!?"

All of them turned in tandem as the crowd parted slightly to allow the passage of another krogan, surrounded by four others all armed with scimitar shotguns, a look of absolute anger enrapturing his features. He looked pissed, for all definitions of the word, and his expression did not lessen when they landed on Mordin, only more fury filling his eyes as he whorled to face Wrex. He had a brown crest, pale skin and similiar red eyes to that of Wrex. Marcus remembered this man well.

Urdnot Wreav, Wrex's blood brother. A man Wrex despised...alot. He remembered how Wrex had introduced the man.  _"We share the same blood...and nothing else."_

"Multiple angry krogan," Mordin noted, turning to Marcus with a look of worry on his face, "Problematic."

He knew Mordin wasn't actually afraid of Wreav, but his uncooperative behaviour could endanger their mission. Ruin their plan and make hopes of getting to the Shroud moot. He had to be dealt with, and quickly.

"Do not think you share authority with me, Wreav," Wrex growled back, eying him with weary patience, "We share the same mother and little else. Blood means nothing between us."

Wreav merely snorted, "For which I am thankful. I remember what it means to be  _true_ krogan," Wreav then turned to Grunt with a grimace, "And I wouldn't have let a tank-bred pup take command of one of our finest companies, either."

Grunt merely chuckled, "Keep talking, welp. I'll do to you what I did to Ojaa Talmoud. You want to keep this going?"

Wrex held up a hand to silence Grunt, and then turned back to Wreav, smiling, "Grunt is of pure krogan ancestry, pyjak. He has the strength of our ancestors, and their memories.  _He_ is true krogan," his smile disappeared, eying Wreav attentively.

" _We_ flay our enemies and drown them in a geyser of their own blood. That's what a  _true krogan_ does," he waved a hand dismissively at Grunt, as if looking at him was a horror he would not engage in, "We don't invite them into our home."

Marcus decided to interject, crossing his arms, "Mordin is here to help. He has the cure to the genophage and will save your people from extinction. You should be more grateful, Wreav."

Wreav scoffed, glaring at him, "His kind  _gave us_ the genophage! Why should we trust him!"

Before Marcus could retort, Wreav's head reared back as Wrex headbutted him, the krogan snarling as Wreav shook his head, clearly dazed and by the look in his eyes, surprised, by the sudden move as he looked up to glare at Wrex.

"Because  _I_  do," Wrex said dangerously, coming to within an inch of Wreav's face, "And so will you, if you want to continue living, Wreav. I also trust Shepard, and the rest of these 'enemies.' So you'd best get used to it; if you're loyal to me, you're loyal to  _them._ "

_"...I also trust Shepard..."_

_Will he continue doing so when he learns of how I betrayed him? Signed the death warrant of his people?_

He shook that thought away as Wreav responded, his snarl echoing along with his other krogan as, in one swift moment, he drew his claymore, shouldering it as he took aim at Wrex. The rest of his krogan followed suit, along with a number of the krogan crowd. But they weren't alone.

In a flash, Marcus and his squad had all drawn theirs and taken aim at Wreav and his men, Marcus aimed firmly at Wreav's skull. Mordin did as well, raising his omni-tool with an incinerate program. Wrex and Grunt drew their own, followed by the rest of the krogan crowd, snarls and growls echoing through the chamber as battle prepared to join.

Then it all stopped.

 _"ENOUGH!"_ boomed a feminine voice, " _STOP THIS IMMEDIATELY!"_

All eyes turned to the stairway that Marcus and his squad had come through, watching the stoic form of Eve, standing tall and proud, at the top of the steps, fists clenched at her side and glaring down at all of them, including Wrex. Javik, Liara and EDI stood at her side, weapons at their sides. Javik looked slightly intrigued, Liara looked worried and EDI showed no reaction whatsoever to the present situation.

Eve finished scanning the crowd, her gaze enough to silence the feral sounds coming from all of them, "You sicken me. Every single one of you. You call yourselves true krogan!? You should all be ashamed! The ancestors would be!" she quickly made her way down the steps, her three escorts following close behind, Javik keeping a close eye out for hostiles as Marcus told him to.

She moved through the crowd, every krogan lowering their weapons and parting as she moved through, shocked and awed by the very idea that a krogan female would ever speak up to them, talk to them, and  _shout_ out at them.

When she reached the front, she immediately honed in on Wreav, who still stood there, looking at her with a mixture of shock and anger, his claymore still raised. "You can stay here and let old wounds fester, as all krogan have always done," she moved over and in one rapid moment, snatched the weapon from his hands, holding it one hand as she scolded him like a parent does a child, "Or you can fight an enemy you were born to destroy," she continued, Wrex and Grunt lowering their weapons, as did Marcus and his squad, all watching in awe as Eve turned away from Wreav and ascended the steps, tossing the shotgun away effortlessly as she shoved Wrex out of the way, coming to stand in his original position and face the crowd, her arms spread like an eagle.

"...and win a new future for our children! Win a new future for all krogan," she pointed to the salarian, her gaze passionate and full of anger, "That  _enemy_ formulated the key to our salvation! He gained a conscience, and now he will cure our people of this plight! You should be thanking him," she glared at Wreav, "Instead, you threaten him," this time her voice reached an all new crescendo as she boomed, "It matters not who our enemies were! It matters not what they did to us! They all suffer the same we do now! Our people have a saying! The seek the enemy of our enemy, and you will find a friend!" she pointed in the general direction of the Shroud, "The salarians, the turians, all of them! They were our enemies! Today they are our allies! Tomorrow they are our allies! Next year, THEY ARE OUR FRIENDS! Because today, this very day, the fate of a galaxy will be decided! Today we build a new future for ourselves and history! Today, we build new alliances! FOR A BETTER TOMORROW!" she sighed, having finished her speech, and swallowed, "I, personally, choose to fight. To take this future and make it my own."

There was silence for a moment, and Marcus mulled over Linron's words.  _Eve...the way she spoke...how could I possibly condemn them to extinction now? So much hope..._ but that yarn was still there, dangling before his eyes, tempting him. Again, he had to lie to cover up his folly. He stepped forward, posture determined and back straight, nodding to Eve as he replied as loudly as he could, "And so do I!"

Grunt nodded, holstering his weapon, "I choose to fight."

"No argument from me!" Wrex shouted, holding out his hands, "I CHOOSE TO FIGHT! WHO IS WITH US!?"

"I choose to fight!" another said.

"For a better tomorrow!" said another.

"For a new future!" and another.

Soon, a chorous of agreement sounded, followed by most of his squad chanting. Marcus saw that only EDI and Javik weren't doing anything, and for the first time since he met the prothean, he seemed to be in total awe at what was happening. The thought made him smile, if only slightly.  _He never got to see such hope in his cycle. Such...optimism. He must be ovewhelmed, the arrogant bastard._

Eve turned to Wreav as the chants died down, noticing that he and his men had been the only ones not to speak up, "And what of you and your men, Wreav? Will you fight for your future, and stay behind as we stride to salvation's gates?"

Marcus saw his crocodillian mind ticking over, weighing his decision. Marcus absent-mindedly tapped the shotgun on his back, hand gripping the handle, ready to draw if Wreav decided to attack.

After a minute, Wreav slowly nodded, and then finally nodded more abruptly, speaking first in a mutter, but then repeating himself much louder, "I choose to fight."

His men nodded their agreement, and with that Wrex smiled, grasping Eve's shoulder gently as he moved to his side, "All of you, hold your heads high like true krogan! A glorious battle awaits us!" he roared, "There's a Reaper out there that needs  _killing!_ "

The krogan cheered once more, and for the first time since they landed, Marcus had a genuine smile on his face.

Despite the darkness of his thoughts, the hope of the room was overwhelming.

But the decision wasn't so grey as he thought.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1524 hours._

_Tomkah Krogan Armoured Personnel Carrier, Moving Along Hagalok City Ruins Western Highway, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Professor Mordin Solus, Eve._

The Tomkah bounced up and down as they moved along the blistered highway, pieces of broken rubble and disattached cabling causing the Tomkah to move left and right as it drove over them. They were in the head of a formation of at least a dozen Tomkah APCs, bringing along alot of krogan clan support and a quarter of Aralakh Company's strength. The squad had to be split due to the size of the Tomkah interiors, which meant EDI, Javik, Kasumi and Keeling were in the Tomkah behind them.

They were almost at the Shroud, Marcus knew. At the speed they were moving, they'd soon reach the intersection and have nothing but open wasteland before them. Then they would reach the spire of salvation...and Vanguard.

 _As long as the turians and krogan do their jobs, Vanguard shouldn't be a problem. Then once the cure's dispersed, the Normandy can take care of it and that'll be the end of that._ Vanguard had pretty much plagued himself and his team everytime they came to Tuchanka. It would be nice to finally kill the son of a bitch.

The cramped confines of the vehicle didn't really help the bouncing up and down and back and forth motion of the APC; everytime it happened, some part of his body collided with something and caused him to wince as something either poked, stabbed or slammed into his side, head, hand or leg, causing somekind of pain. But he had served in the military a long time and had gotten used to moving in APCs; the vehicles were used to deploy them during the Battle of Elysium in the Skyllian Blitz, and during the Siege of Torfan in the very same conflict. So he was used to them at this point.

Apart from the driver and his co-driver, Wrex, Grunt and Eve were the only krogan in the vehicle with them. Mordin sat next to Eve with his SMG in his lap, and the rest of his squad was placed at the back along with him; James and Garrus were trading jokes opposite from him, and Liara appeared to be eying him with unease.

He smiled at her, trying to alleviate her concerns, "I'm fine, Liara. Jacob's death hit me pretty hard, but I'm recovering. No more...outbursts. None of the crew deserve to hear that."

She laughed halfheartedly, shaking her head, but she looked reassured at least, the asari leaning back as she crossed her arms, "Its okay. You had your moment of weakness and its over. Its not like we didn't know you had feelings or anything. You just...needed to vent. The crew understood that, and its over now. We just need to move on."

"Funny," he chuckled bitterly, "We say that only after two days of him being dead. Brynn's probably still in grief, and we're talking about moving on?"

She smiled weakly, "War does that to us. Forces us to fight now, and leave the grieving until after."

He nodded, "Yeah."  _I wonder what war has to tell me about betrayal._ Yes, it would seem that, even after Eve's speech, Linron's words still plagued him. Refusing to go away, like an incessant whisper at the back of his skull.

_**Serve us...** _

_**You will know pain...** _

_**Embrace salvation...** _

The words in the back of his skull seemed to be getting louder and louder the closer they got to the Shroud...

Could it be...?

Suddenly, a burst of static in his comm followed by a voice, "This is Lieutenant Celai of Turian Wing Artimec to all ground forces, our vector is locked and we're inbound to the Shroud. ETA to engagement of enemy target is six minutes. How copy?"

He hit keyed the comm in response, "This is Captain Shepard, we read you solid. Five by five; we should the target the same time you do. Spirits be with you, Shepard out." He quickly disconnected the comm, sighing into his lap as he let his hands fall into it.  _This is it. No turning back now._

"When all of this is over and the genophage is cured, our people are going to want answers, Wrex," Eve suddenly spoke up, shifting in her seat, "I merely stemmed the tide. Wreav isn't the only one who wants revenge. You'll have to placate them somehow."

"Leave Wreav to me," Wrex replied, waving a dismissive hand, "As for those who want revenge, they'll be easy to placate. According to the Citadel Accords, all planets within a race's home system immediately belongs to that species, regardless of whether it is colonized yet; one of the reasons the Council didn't touch the Sol System when they discovered humanity. I'll shove that rule in the Council's face; they'll have to immediately pull any forces they have from our system; there's our start. As for the rest of the cluster, I'll argue our case. Hopefully, we can change the name too. The krogan won't be demilitarized much longer. We'll need room to expand, so I'll give us a cluster. We'll recapture the glory of the ancients."

Mordin, as always, added his two cents worth, "'Glory of ancients' lead to Krogan Rebellions. Millions of deaths. Deployment of genophage. Expansion plan? Problematic."

Wrex narrowed his eyes at the salarian for a moment before nodding, sighing, "Guess the salarian has a point. But we won't be expanding quite so ridiculously this time. We'll limit krogan expansion to this cluster and nothing else; whatever we're given after is a bonus."

"We'll need a new form of government," Eve added, "Our current clan system won't cut it. We need a centralized leadership to civilize us. After that, we'll need to reclaim the old cities and rebuild them. After that, we'll rebuild Tuchanka; it wasn't always a desert planet, and we shall return it to its pre-fallout glory. After that, and only after that, can we begin to redevelop our armed forces."

Wrex chuckled, "You've got it all sorted out, don't you?"

"Unlike you, I think before I act," Eve snarkily replied, "It helps, believe me."

"I'm sure it does, but you're missing one crucial thing that's more important than all of those things," Wrex stated, grinning as he eyed Eve.

"And that would be?"

Wrex only leaned back, grinning all the way, "Well, let's put it this way. There was a reason we populated our planets so fast," he turned to look at Garrus, who had a disgusted look on his face, "Heh-heh. You haven't seen how fast we can pop them out."

"Well, I'm never unseeing that," Garrus remarked, turning away as he tried to lose himself in a joke with James, hoping to rid himself of the horrible images of overly bloated female krogan.

"Wrex!" Eve growled, almost sounding embarassed, and in that moment, Marcus wondered if krogan could blush.

"What?" the krogan chieftain, pretending to be oblivious to the female's embarassment. Considering how they looked at each other, Marcus could pretty much figure out what was going on between them.  _Ah...Eve must be Wrex's designated mate._ How do krogan put it? His...breeding partner?  _Damn...I wonder how Grunt views Tali? Does he view her as my breeding partner?_ The thought disgusted him, "After the genophage is cured, we're going to have  _alot_ of catching up to do."

Marcus smiled, although it was weak and didn't quite reach his eyes. The more he heard 'once the genophage is cured' and what the krogan planned to do when it happened, the more of an asshole he felt, the more he collapsed inside, the more pain welled up inside his mind. In the end, he wondered if he could go through with it. Were the salarians even worth it?

_Eventually, you've got to stop thinking and make a move._

_Victory at_ _**any cost.** _

_We fight or we_ _**die.** _

He wasn't as subtle as he thought apparently, because as soon as his smile died and he moved to retrieve his helmet, Eve spoke, clearly addressing him, "Captain, in the shuttle, you looked troubled. You said it was nothing, but I just saw the same look in your eye. Then Garrus mentioned that you missed someone...a woman...who is she, if I may ask? Or  _was_ she?"

He turned to her, gulping, the very idea of talking about her hurting more than anyone knew, "She...she's still alive, just...not around currently. I...she's my wife. We met three years ago on the Citadel when she had information I needed to prove Saren was guilty. We since...developed a relationship and now we're married."

Eve seemed to nod, bowing her head respectfully, "I do not know what a wife is, but I assume it has to do with bondship. She is your mate?"

He nodded slightly.

She nodded as well, "What is her name?"

"Tali," he replied almost instantly, wanting to get rid of the name as quickly as possible, "Tali'Shepard vas Normandy."

Eve shifted her posture, looking surprised, "Your mate is a quarian? I'll admit that I'm not surprised. You have shown so much compassion to my people already, it is not surprising you would find love in that of a person belonging to a race that has also been scorned by the Council races. They are quick to cast judgment without fully understanding the reasons."

"Yeah," he nodded, "Yeah, it is."

"And where is she now?"

Marcus found that talking to Eve about this was...comforting. He couldn't explain why, but it made him forget about Linron's deal, about curing the genophage, about the war, about everything. He could just talk about the person he loved the most, and that gave him a sense of levity.

Quickly, he answered, "She's on the Migrant Fleet. Although we don't know-"

"Why have we stopped?"

Wrex's question went unanswered as Marcus looked around, suddenly made aware that the vehicle had actually ceased all movement, but the engine was still revving. Garrus and James looked just as confused, as did Liara. Mordin simply watched Wrex as he poked his head into the driver's seat, trying to figure out what the hold up was.

Instead, Wrex came back out and turned around, gritting his teeth, "It appears we've hit a dead end."

"What do you mean?" Marcus asked, as if interrogating him.

"Go have a look for yourself," Wrex replied simply, motioning to the hatch, "You're not going to like it."

He sighed, standing up as he moved over to the hatch, nodding to Wrex as he moved to exit the vehicle. He saw his team getting up to look with him but he shook his head, motioning for them to sit back down, "I shouldn't be more than a few seconds. Unless its Reaper troops, I'll be fine on my own."

"Anything could happen, Shepard," Liara insisted, continuing to follow him, "You should at least have  _someone_ go with you."

He nodded, exhaling, "I'm telling you, you're just going to be standing around, doing nothing."

"Then stand around and do nothing I shall," Liara replied dryly, crossing her arms, "But I am coming with you."

He rolled his eyes, opening the hatch, "Okay then," and with that, he leapt from the vehicle and landed on the solid, concrete ground below, another pair following behind him as Liara joined him, the hatch closing behind them.

Behind their Tomkah lay a long line of more, all of them lined up in singe file and all currently stopped and unmoving, but their engines still humming. Some of their passengers had even left their safe armoured body, demanding to know what the hold up was about.

Tall skyscrapers towered over them to their left, crumbled and broken, the last remnants of the ruined Hagalok City. The road was crumbled, blistered and cracked, long struts that had even railing either having collapsed onto the ground or simply corroded into nothing. And to the west of the large road, was the Que'k Wastelands in all its vastness; as far as the eye could see.

In the distance, the Shroud could be seen, looking like a bright beacon of hope in the midst of the harsh Que'k desert. The ruins of structures littered its sands all over, none more prominent than the ruined temple that stood infront of the Shroud.

But standing infront of, and blocking most of the view of the Shroud, was Vanguard, the Reaper Destroyer they sought to distract. It took absolutely still, its red eye the only thing to move as the armoured plates protecting the eye were slid apart, blood red cyclops scanning the area infront of it, but otherwise remaining frozen; gargantuan legs stiff and looking ready to pounce, making it look like an insect, despite its colossal 150 feet size.

After his quick analysis of the landscape, Marcus turned to his right, and immediately regretted doing so. Because he had found out just why they had stopped.

He had no idea what caused it, but it must have been corrosion, because the entire piece of road that  _had_ been infront of them, was now gone, having caved in like a sinkhole, revealing bits of ancient electronic cabling and pieces of concrete underneath. Below was what had been that section of road, now leaning against each other and mostly buried in the sand below.

He groaned as he moved over, crouching down next to the edge, silently cursing their luck.  _We'd have to acellerate at full speed to clear that gap...and with a full convoy? Damn it, there must be another way to the Shroud that doesn't involve this damnable road._

"Why have we stopped?" came a voice, and for a second Marcus thought it was Wrex again, but then recognized the voice, and elected to ignore Wreav's impatient demand. He had had enough of the man already.  _Still, at least this delays me and let's me think more on Linron's deal. Should I accept or not?_ His morals and logic were clashing at that very moment, and he was worried just who would win.

Then he remembered Tarquin's words again.  _Victory at any cost._

He heard a low rumble and then the ground shook violently with a roar, sending Marcus onto his back, along with Liara as the dust and rocks on the ground seemed to vibrate. They heard a groan, and Marcus looked up in horror as he saw a skyscraper shake and shudder above them.  _Oh fuck, please don't fall this way..._

The earthquake roared aga-...wait, it  _roared?_ What kind of earthquake was this?

As he watched the skyscraper, he thought he saw the shadow of a massive form slither by behind the wall, followed a loud screech, and then the skyscraper finally crumbled. Luckily for them, it toppled towards the city, and a thunderous boom was added to the quake, plumes of smoke and stone shooting up into sky from the demolition. Then, as soon as the earthquake started, it was over.

Marcus frowned, remembering the shadow as he came to stand.  _That figure...it was huge...did it cause the earthquake?_ He wondered if it had been a thresher maw, but he had seen the shadow...and not even thresher maws were  _that_ big. That thing had been a monster, a bloody  _leviathan..._

_Is Tuchanka not done surprising me with its wildlife? Or am I hallucinating?_

"Shepard?" Liara asked to his side, and he turned to her, "Did you see that too?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I certainly did."

"Shepard!" Wrex's voice roared through the comms, "What was that!? The whole Tomkah shook, and we all heard an explosion! Are we under attack?"

"Negative, Wrex. Stay put. It was just an earthquake," Marcus assured him, coming to stand as he dusted himself off, "The explosion you heard was a skyscraper collapsing," he wondered for a moment if he should mention the shadow of a creature, but decided against it. Wrex would probably call him crazy, "As for the road, I see what you mean now. Absolutely-"

"Shepard," came a familiar turian voice, "This is Turian Wing Artimec. We are engaging."

Marcus' relief was completely torn apart as he suddenly whorled around, looking up as he felt the ground shake slightly; it was the vibration that came from space-bound ships entering orbit, their ships sending waves through the air that reverbrated off the ground and created pressure that caused the ground to rumble. And it also meant they were close.

"No!" he shouted.  _Not now, not now!_ "Break off, Artimec! Break off! We've been forced to stop! We've been forced to stop! Abort, I say again, abort!"

"We can't!" the turian squadron commander replied, "Vanguard has already seen us! Scanners are picking up energy build-up! We have to engage it while we still can!"

"Negative! You won't stand a chance! There'll be no point in distracting it if we're not there to take advantage of it! Break-" he was cut off as the sound of engines echoed off the city walls, and soon he watched the hook-shaped form of a turian fighter shoot past, followed by two more, and then dozens more. The turian fighter wing continued its path, moving towards Vanguard at high speed and closing fast. Marcus could only whorl around, his plea going unanswered as he watched helplessly.

He watched from a distance as Vanguard shifted from its stance, looking up, its red eye indeed glowing. It fired off a thanix cannon shot that might as well have been spit for the split-second it lasted, but it was precise enough to not completely reduce an incoming fighter to nothing, leaving nothing...not even debris. Wasn't even a fireball.

The rest of the fighters engaged the Reaper, their gattling guns and missiles pinging harmlessly on Vanguard's heavy duty armor, none of their assaults leaving a single dent on its body; even without kinetic barriers, Destroyer-class Reapers were a nut just too tough for conventional weapons to crack unless it was substantial and from capital ships. But these were fighters; mere flies to Vanguard.

One particular fighter attempted to fly away to reengage, but Vanguard locked onto it and fired. It wasn't a direct hit, but the shot did clip the back, having enough force to completely obiliterate its tail, the momentum of the impact mixing with the fighter's forward momentum, causing the aerial vehicle to spaz out and jerk up before violently shooting downwards, moving with rapid speed...

...towards them.

Marcus wanted to cry out, but knew there was no time. Instead, he reacted on instinct and shot forward, tackling Liara to the ground just as the fighter crashed infront of them.

The entire ground shook and he felt dust and debris shower them as the fighter exploded on impact. Some were bigger than others, and he knew he'd have bruises from some, the spectre even having to cough as dust choked his lungs momentarily. He kept his arms around Liara, shielding her from the debris. He was more heavily armoured, afterall.

He heard a large rumble, easily overshadowing the sound of battle in the distance. For a moment, Marcus shifted his head to look, only to hear a massive roar as something smashed into the ground, the vibration actually sending them into momentary flight but a mere inch off the ground. He shot his look to the left, and saw what had happened.

One unlucky tomkah was now lying under a thick support strut of concrete and stone, having completely crushed it and likely the occupants inside as well. It also unfortunately cut off the two tomkahs at the back, blocking them from continuing.

His head whorled back to the right and watched with widened eyes as his tomkah reared back and then shot forward, moving with enough speed to clear the gap and reaching the other side, followed quickly by the rest of the tomkah convoy. Within moments, Marcus and Liara found themselves abandoned.

He coughed, letting go of the asari beneath him, standing up as he dusted himself off, keying his comm, "Wrex, what the fuck are you doing? We're still out here!"

"Wait," came a growl in response and he heard a scuffle. A few moments later, and he heard a huff, the sound of something hitting the ground, a grunt and then Wrex spoke again, "There we go. Sorry Shepard, but I had to take care of our illustrious driver. Decided to take off without my decision."

He nodded, watching the last tomkah drive off into the distance, disappearing behind a corner. He cursed his luck, turning to see Liara coming to his side, wincing as she moved with a slight limp, SMG already out and in her hand.

"Well don't bother coming back. The turians are getting slaughtered and Vanguard knows we're coming. We need a Plan B," he stated, scanning the road. Suddenly, he noticed an open doorway that lead into a dark room; he hadn't noticed it before because the Tomkah had blocked their view, but now it was plain as day, "Wrex, I've just found an exit. We're going to see where it takes us. I'll send a waypoint to your omni-tool so you can monitor our progress. Where can you pick us up?"

"There's the old harbour!" Wrex noted, "It used to be a port for seaborne ships, but the nuclear war dried up all the water, so its just sand now. We'll drive down, sweep around and pick you up there! Just get your ass down there! I'll get Wreav and your squad's tomkah following us. I've told the rest to break off and hold position. We might still need them."

"Good decision. Send us the navpoint for that harbour and we'll be there. Good luck Wrex, and whatever you do, keep Mordin and Eve alive!" He glanced briefly at the battle in the distance, watching the turians break off and retreat from a severe lack of ships. Vanguard watched them leave, but didn't seem to fire, simply standing there and retreating back to its old pose. He shook his head and turned to Liara, smiling wearily.

"You alright?" he asked, noticing her limp, "You can walk?"

She winced, but nodded, "I should be fine. Don't worry about me, Shepard. What we need to do is get out of here. They just left us."

"Wrex is going to meet us in the harbour with everyone," his omni-tool beeped ontime, and he nodded, "And Wrex just sent us the navpoint," he turned to the asari, showing her the doorway he found, "I don't know where it leads, but it has to be better than here. We'll see where it goes, and if we're lucky, it'll take us to the harbour. Its our best shot."

She nodded, "Lead the way then," she gave a weak smile, "I'll follow as best I can."

He nodded, unholstering his rifle as he shouldered it, cracking his neck as he prepared to enter the darkness of what lay ahead.

_Who knew curing the genophage would be so much work._

_Still, who says I'll let them cure it for sure?_

At least it gave him time to think.

**"You made quite a** _**name** _ **for yourself, if you know what I mean."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"That was pretty bad, but I see you've still got it."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Thank you. So...Tuchanka? Curing the genophage? You said you had a...dilemma? Linron's deal or cure the genophage? Its obvious what you chose, so how did you...manage it? How did you break free of the decision?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Through something I'm still ashamed of to this day."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yes, I know its out alot earlier than I said. Well, I got more time than I thought. I assure you! This will be changing!** _

_**Second part comes out as soon as I can write it. Just have patience.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	28. The Name of a Hero, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's crew battle through Tuchankan ruins to reach the Shroud. Vanguard fights them every step of the way.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**THE NAME OF A HERO PART TWO**

_June 21, 2186_

_1536 hours._

_Tomkah Krogan Armoured Personnel Carrier, Moving Along Hagalok City Ruins Western Highway towards Hagalok City Ruins Harbour, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Professor Mordin Solus, Eve._

Wrex let out a low growl as he drove the Tomkah, his driving leaving much to be desired. There were times where he had to swerve out of the way to avoid an obstacle or some kind of dangerous object. The two tomkahs behind them had trouble keeping up or not smashing into his vehicle every time he made a sharp turn.  _Hope Shepard doesn't find out. Don't want him to know he has a friend on the 'can't drive' wagon._ Although the idea that Wreav had a hard time keeping up brought him some amusement.  _At least seeing that pyjak suffer is some consolation._

Still, he had to make sure he drove more tactfully if he wanted Eve and Mordin to leave this tank alive. Eve was krogan but not invincible, and salarians were almost as fragile as glass, which meant Mordin, even as hardened a combatant that he was, wouldn't be able to suffer much punishment.

Grunt sat in the seat next to him, and the rest of Marcus' team made their appreciation of his driving known. Or rather, lack of. If anyone could triple the jerkiness of the tomkah, it was Wrex. Or just any krogan in general. They were crazy drivers, afterall.

"Would be best if alive," Mordin remarked, "Little use dead."

He snarled, swerving around another corner, "I'm aware of that!"

He kept swerving until he bent around one final corner. He easily recognized the area below and slammed his foot on the brakes, causing the Tomkah to abruptly stop, and everyone in the back to shift forwards momentarily with the momentum, before returning to normal positioning.

The once proud Hagalok City Harbour was shaped like a U, a place where once water had flowed through and ships had docked; now it was sand, bits of rotted anchors and the remnants of dissolved boats buried underneath. In the middle of the U was a massive krogan statue wielding a sword, shooting it high into the sky in victory; a relic of the ancient Que'k War between the city-states of Hagalok and Trisek'lok. Hagalok had come out victorious, and the Blood Pact that bound them together lasted well into the Glory Age, and then until the Tuchankan Nuclear Fallout. Now both cities were gone; mere ruins who's radioactivity had long since worn off. That statue was the only reminder of that war; that conflict.

"There's the harbour," Wrex pointed, making sure he was loud enough to be heard by the rest of the tomkah. Even as he spoke, two friendly blips on the vehicle's motion tracker indicated that Wreav's tomkah and the tomkah carrying the other half of Shepard's men had arrived behind them, coming to a stop, "That's where we'll meet Shepard."

"Was it really a good idea just leaving loco behind out there? Bluey, too?" James piped up, his voice giving away his uncertainty, "I mean, shouldn't we have gone back for them?"

"Shepard is a tough son of a bitch," Garrus assured, "As for Liara, she'll be just fine. They'll reach the harbour, no problem."

"More to the point is that we are now going to need a plan B," Eve stated, "We all know that the likelihood is that most of the turian fighter wing was destroyed in that attack, and our forces have been segregated. Attacking Vanguard now would be pointless, and we'd achieve nothing in the process."

Wrex sighed, twisting out of the driver's seat and walking into the main troop cabin, frowning, "Well what other option do we have? Vanguard has the entire Shroud locked down, so we're not getting past it without a fight."

"There is another option," Eve stated firmly. Everyone looked to her eagerly, but she frowned, turning to the other occupants with sudden worry in her eyes, "You might not like it."

"We're open to anything at this point," James replied, and Eve simply nodded, knowing that Garrus was in agreement just by looking into his eyes. With a sigh, she leant back, crossing her arms as best she could as she turned to face Wrex.

"I'm sure we've all felt the earthquakes in this area. Tuchanka hasn't suffered them for years, which means the ancient beast is stirring. Tuchanka's rage itself has awaken from its slumber, and it is likely due to Vanguard's arrival. She can sense its hate, its intent to raze this planet...she does not agree. She has awoken."

Wrex's eyes widened, and Grunt's eyes sparkled with delight as he grinned. But Garrus and James were simply confused, and Mordin simply looked taken aback. Eventually, it was Garrus who had to ask, "What do you mean 'Tuchanka's rage itself?' What's weird about a few earthquakes? We have them on Palaven quite alot."

"Earthquakes on Tuchanka are extremely rare due to the space between the tectonic plates. Which means there is only one thing that could cause them. The awakening of the beast herself," Eve turned back to Wrex, "You know I speak of."

Wrex snorted, "Yes, we've had reports that Kalros is on the move. We've heard rumors that standard thresher maws have either stopped appearing in some regions, migrated or actually increased in number in other areas, but that doesn't mean anything. Kalros has been asleep ever since the Fallout. She wouldn't wake up just because one Reaper landed on our planet."

"Wait,  _Kalros_?" Garrus accentuated incredulously, the turian's jaw practically dropping, "As in, the  _Mother of all Thresher Maws_?"

Wrex sighed, nodding, "The very same one. She's well over a few kilometers long, and she's ten times as large as any thresher maw. She's the only one of her kind, and all krogan worship her as the mother of Tuchanka and our people's slumbering protector. But noone has seen her since the Fallout. Some superstition says the radiation put her to sleep, while others say she taught the krogan a lesson by letting us suffer. I personally think she hid just so she could survive the bombardment. Either way, she hasn't been seen since those times."

"But now she is back. These earthquakes prove it. Only the movement of Kalros could cause such tremors. That skyscraper back on the highway did not collapse on its own. That was Kalros on the move. Some of the Nakmor scouts even reported  _confirmed sightings_ of her in the Trisek'lok City Ruins, and that was an area Vanguard was also confirmed to have moved through. She has awoken due to its presence, I'm sure of it."

"So what?" Wrex asked, confused at what she was getting at, "We should be concentrating on dealing with Vanguard, not Kalros waking up. What's any of this got to do with getting past it?"

"We want a distraction? Kalros has given us the perfect one," he swore he saw Eve smile, "During the ancient times, the temples would bang their duo of hammers to call in Kalros from the depths, so that they may be in awe of her glory and sanctity before she sank into Tuchanka's earth once more."

Mordin was quick to offer his scientific explanation, "Easily explained. Thresher Maws react to vibrations in the ground; how they find prey. Kalros merely reacts to vibrations on larger scale; hammers are these vibrations."

"Explain it as you wish, it does not change that Kalros is attracted to them," she turned to Grunt, noticing his smile and nodded, before turning to Wrex, knowing that the supersoldier had figured out her plan already, but Wrex  _still_ needed elaboration, "If we can get in close enough to ring the hammers, we can summon Kalros to Vanguard. She has been moving in for the kill for a while, but like all predators, she cherishes the element of surprise. Now she can make her move; Vanguard will be so focused on us, it will not see her coming."

Wrex grinned, "You...you want Kalros to  _fight_ Vanguard? The Mother of Tuchanka, fighting a Reaper," he shook his head.

"But wouldn't Kalros lose?" Garrus asked, still curious as to how that would work, "I mean, Vanguard has a thanix cannon and is  _huge_ , even for a thresher maw. It has heavy armor, and can fly. Kalros can only bite, shoot acid and slither across the ground."

"Kalros is five times Vanguard's size, and her length is unparrelled," Eve explained, "Even if Vanguard took flight, she could reach out from the ground and pull it from the sky. Vanguard would have to fly very high to escape Kalros' reach. As for the thanix, the Reaper needs to take aim in time; Kalros strikes hard and fast before her prey even knows what is happening; Vanguard would have no time to react. Heavy armor? Kalros weighs several hundred thousand tonnes. She weighs more than an alliance heavy cruiser, and like...I believe humans call them 'snakes'...thresher maws love to wrap themselves around and crush bigger prey. Vanguard's armor would crack and explode from the pressure Kalros could exert. Believe me, Kalros has Vanguard beaten entirely."

James bit his lips and fistpumped in the air, "Finally! A Reaper that is actually  _outmatched_  for once!"

"This is all based on actually  _getting_ to the Shroud," Wrex pointed out, "That, and we need to tell Shepard."

Garrus chuckled, "Trust me, this is just within his idea of insane. He'll agree to it; probably run head long into it. You know how he is, Wrex."

He krogan chieftain simpy grinned, "Yes, he's like a krogan. I'll have to remember that. Still, its not going to be easy getting to that temple and hitting those hammers. Vanguard is going to challenge us every step of the way."

"That's not the Wrex I remember," Garrus remarked, "The Wrex I know wouldn't give a shit if three thousand Reapers were at the Shroud, he'd still charge straight at them."

The krogan battlemaster nodded, his grin never having left, "You're right, as I hate to admit. And I still would. Guess some of Shepard's caution has worn off on me," he let out a deep exhale of breath before nodding, grabbing hold of the steering wheel with renewed vigour, "Then that's the plan. Pick up Shepard, get to the temple, hit the hammers, then get inside the Shroud while Kalros deals with Vanguard. Got it."

Mordin nodded, gulping slightly, "Now we wait. Hate waiting. Boring exercise. Much prefer to do experiments. Passes time. Stops boredom."

Wrex sighed, leaning into the steering wheel, "Tell me about it."

And now they waited.

"Are we going to move or what?" Came Wreav's voice.

Wrex sighed, as did the rest of the squad, even Mordin and Eve had to exasperate at that point.

It would be a long wait.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1536 hours._

_Catacombs, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

He stepped down again, his bootprint plastered into the previously undisturbed dust of the stone floor, plumes of dust blowing up from the sudden depressurization of his foot landing. Twin beams of lights shot out from the flashlights on both sides of his helmet, lighting up whatever area he looked at. He heard bits of dust and stone clang along the walls as it crumbled from the ceiling, disturbed by the earthquake that had happened moments before.

He stopped, turning around temporarily to check on Liara. The asari was close behind him, leaning to one side and following his every movement. She stopped when she saw him stop, looking up at him wearily. He saw a smile reach her eyes, but he could easily see the slight discomfort in her eyes, even in the darkness.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked, "We've still got a ways to go."

She nodded almost desperately, motioning ahead, "Just means we should get out of here quicker. You know as well as I do that just sitting here won't help us. We need to get out of here, wherever here is."

He snorted, turning away as he shouldered his mattock again, placing one foot infront of the other. His flashlight moved along a corner, and he swept along the left, finding nothing but caved in stone and rubble, long settled, the head of a krogan statue poking out and almost comically glaring at him, face frozen in a triumphant growl. Ancient gunshot holes littered the wall, a testament to some ancient battle that had occurred millenia ago. Satisfied the area was checked, he turned forward again, finding a flight of stairs leading up.

"I swear, it was a good idea at the time," Marcus replied, a slight smile on his face as he approached the steps, "Watch the stairs," he added in warning, taking a careful step on the cracked stone before deciding it was safe enough and continuing, "It was better than staying and playing tag with Vanguard."

He stumbled, a crack resounding throughout the corridor, quickly catching himself and steadying his balance. Dust pittered off his helmet as it escaped from cracks in the ceiling, and he turned to check if Liara was okay, the asari quickly waving him off like somekind of annoying insect.

It had been another earthquake, something Marcus and Liara were becoming well acquainted with. They had started off incredibly violent, almost making the both of them panic as a piece of ceiling collapsed, but luckily, it hadn't completely fallen. After that, they had lessened in strength, just becoming tremors afterward. As if the cause was quickly evaporating, or getting further away...

"Should we contact Wrex?" Liara asked as he began to ascend again, adjusting his helmet so that he could see through the visor properly.

He shook his head, "Comms are a mess, can't even get static. Too much stone and concrete ontop of us. We need to get to ground level."

"These tremors just worry me," the asari sighed, groaning as she moved up the steps, ignoring the aggravated pain in her hip, "They didn't start until we left the Hollows."

Marcus didn't respond, clearing the last three steps and reaching the top, only to find another, longer corridor waiting for them, lines of untouched krogan statues lining the wall, holding a long line of weapons, some of them being crude, conventional, 21st Century-esque looking projectile weaponry.

"Please tell me we reached the top," Liara pleaded, her voice sounding desperate and wheezy.

"I'm gonna break it to you," he replied, noting the lack of sunlight ahead, "I don't think we're even close."

An exaggerated sigh was his only answer. Or maybe not so exaggerated.

 _I think its fully justified._ He personally noted, sighing himself as he began to move forward, keeping his rifle firm and his posture rigid and strong, ready for anything that could jump out to attack them. Which he hoped they didn't.  _Don't want this to be a typical horror flick, do we?_

The darkness was totally enveloping in the catacombs. Not even a sliver of sunlight got through unless you were near the top, he presumed, which meant everything was pitch black. The powerful light of his flashlights were the only thing giving them any guidance through its thick cloud.

They were halfway through the corridor when Marcus's flashlight glanced over a wall before moving ahead again, but it was all that was needed to notice something familiar on the wall. He quickly turned back, holding up a closed fist. Liara almost bumped into him before she saw it, instead coming to stop just behind the man.

He pointed to the wall as his flashlight landed on it, looking at it with a mixture of fear and adrenaline, awe and wonder.

It was a painting of four krogan on their knees and holding their arms up, as if in worship. Small buildings were in the background, but barely noticable compared to the towering monstrosity above them.

It was a thresher maw, but of a kind he had never seen before. It had four arms instead of two, a much bigger mouth and its body must have been incredibly long, because when he ran his flashlight along the wall, it didn't end until the end of the corridor itself, and possibly around the corner. Whatever type of thresher maw this was, it was  _huge._

_A leviathan._

Suddenly he remembered the collapsing skyscraper on the highway, and the glimpse of a shadow. Could that have been the monster shown in these pictures? Or was this a long-forgotten krogan myth?

There was a name hovering over the maw, but the Tuchankan it was written in was so ancient that his translators didn't even recognize it as an official language.

"Goddess, that thresher is the biggest I've ever seen," Liara exclaimed, turning to him with barely palpable awe, "Do you think it exists?"

He shrugged, turning away from the wall painting as he moved forward, "You tell me, you're the Shadow Broker."

That got a laugh out of her as she followed behind, "Well, admittedly, I'm not a very good one. Most of my network is either in disarray or dead or deserted me. Either way, I don't think being the Shadow Broker means much anymore."

He scoffed, shaking his head, "You're selling yourself short. You mean alot to the galaxy, Liara, and you still have a chance to do great things. The network isn't the sum of all the Broker's efforts; you're alot more than that."

A weak laugh was her response, "I'll try to believe that."

Silence fell upon both of them, Marcus finding himself at a loss to come up with a witty comeback. They just trudged on, their bodies excavating the darkness with every footfall, clinging onto the hope that they'd find a way out. So far, the catacombs had been nothing but a maze of corridors. Hopefully their venture would yield preferable results on their end.

For Liara, it just meant she could focus on following him out of here.

For him, it allowed previous thoughts to invade his mind once more.

He swallowed, his face darkening, as did his thoughts. Memories of his conversation with the salarian dalatrass echoed in the deep recesses of his mind, clouding his vision with imagery of betrayal, angst and horror. The lines between moral truth and moral falsehood were becoming blurred, he had no idea whether he was doing the right thing or not anymore. And when Wrex found out? Would he...would his hands be covered in the blood of his own  _friend?_

_It seems you've made a decision._

He shifted uncomfortably, like an itch on his neck that bugged him, his body twitching in a grimace as goosebumps covered his skin.  _The scary thing is that I might have._

_Now its time to decide if I'm a monster._

_**You are ours, Shepard.** _

_**Even now, we sense your presence. Your adrenaline. You will find no victory on this world. You will fight, and you will die. But only if you resist us. Accept the peace we offer and be done with it.** _

_**Serve us, and join in creation itself.** _

Marcus winced, knowing who the voice belonged to at this point. It didn't have the deep, horrible undertones that Harbinger possessed, but was more pronounced; resonating and seeming to warp through his mind with each word. It was Vanguard who spoke to him this time, not Harbinger. That Reaper was light years away, while Vanguard...he was only a few kilometers.

 _Go to hell._ Marcus growled, the sound so soft that he doubt Liara heard it.  _I'll meet you there when this is all over._

_**You will submit to us. You will give in. They always do.** _

_**Even you.** _

Despite this persistence, Marcus felt Vanguard's presence lifting from his mind, giving him clarity once more. Marcus knew what was going on, but he had kept it from his friends. From his family. He had resisted it well so far, but he knew that might not be the case soon. If it got worse...he would tell the crew. And if he became...incapable...if he became dangerous...

 _Well, there's always an airlock. Or my own rifle._ The thoughts were grim and bitter, but they held the truth he sorely needed. Truth was something he was lacking at the moment. A truth to make his coming decision easier to swallow.

Problem is, was he really comfortable with swallowing? And what was he swallowing? Waters of relief, or the blood of friends you murdered?

His mind was at war with itself, and he just didn't know if it would resolve in a fashion he wanted. No matter how he-

"Shepard!" Liara shouted, causing him to halt as he spun to face her, "Sunlight!"

His eyes followed where she was pointing, and she was indeed right. Halfway up the corridor, past a collapsed stone support strut, was a collapsed ceiling, accept that ceiling had been holding back the rays of Aralakh; the debris providing the perfect ladder to the surface that awaited them outside, and, to his total shock, many fern-like plants had grown over the debris outside, like nature reclaiming lost territory.  _Plant life...on Tuchanka? That's a first._

He had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to have even noticed, he inwardly cursed. Even as he shut off his flashlights and followed Liara as she began to limp faster towards the exit, he gritted his teeth, shaking his head.  _Goddamn it Marcus, you need to stay focused! Your lack of focus got Jacob killed! Your lack of focus could get Liara killed!_

He nodded to her as she stopped, turning to him and cocking her head to the side, frowning at him as she saw him just standing there. He simply nodded, holstering his mattock as he rushed over to join her, eyes wincing from the intense light. Even as he approached however, the light was dimming, his eyesight rejoicing due to the return of light.

Even as he looked at the debris, he knew Liara wouldn't be able to get up there, not with her injured hip. So as carefully as possible, he kneeled down on the rubble, one knee scraping against a piece of concrete rio, placing his hands together as he turned to the asari, "Liara."

The asari turned to him, and then her eyes drifted to his hands. She sighed, smiling warmly at him, before slowly, and methodically making her way over to where he kneeled, placing one foot on his hands.

With all his cybernetic strength at his disposal, he thrusted his hand up as her second foot landed, launching her up insanely high. He heard the biotic almost cry out as she passed the hole up to her waist, wrapping her arms around the edge and her chest hitting the line with a grunt. With all the strength she could muster in just her arms, she pulled herself up and over, moving to safety.

Satisfied she was safely out, he moved up to the debris and began to climb, using whatever handholds he could find to get up.

One hand returned to the surface, followed by another.

His second hand was met by the warm feel of another, which quickly turned into a clasped grip as Liara used both her hands to pull him up, summoning her biotics to lighten the load, encasing him in liquid blue. In no time, he was up and over, rolling over onto his back and getting to his feet, dusting himself off and checking that he was no worse for wear.

"We good, Liara?" He asked as he finished dusting himself, annoyed that he couldn't get rid of a certain scab of dust that had plastered itself to his kneeguard.

He frowned after three seconds when she didn't answer, turning from the scab mark to face her, eyes landing on her back, "Liara? Hello? Are you-"

He stopped, eyes glancing over her shoulder, scanning the area beyond.

The courtyard ahead had been reclaimed by nature almost entirely, ferns and flowers and  _trees_ deforming the landscape, orange stone marred by red moss, and once proud pillars and plazas overwhelmed and split apart by nature itself. But pieces of the ground had also sunk in numerous places, caved in, and almost entirely disappeared, leaving black holes leading into whatever abyss awaited below.

But that wasn't what captured their attention, what caused Marcus to come to Liara's side, bringing out his mattock.

It was the fresh, dead corpses that literally littered the entire yard. The corpses of dead Reaper foot soldiers.

When there wasn't dismembered limbs with dried black ichor pooled around them and the limbs themselves, there was mutilated husks, along with numerous melted cadavers, one particular brute tossed uselessly across a piece of stone and lying on its back, its entire chest melted inwards from somekind of acidic substance. Marauders and cannibals lay all around, bodies scythed and black intestines spilling out and sizzling in the sun, while another marauder was totally missing, its legs the only testament to its own, individual existence. And then there was the dead harvester, wings shorn off and head split from the neck and lying on the pavement a few meters away, corpse dry and withering.

Overall, this area had been a slaughterhouse, at least for Vanguard's forces. The both of them couldn't find a single trace of allied activity; not a single dead krogan, not so much as a drop of orange blood. And even krogan couldn't take on a force this large; this force was at least sixty in strength, and from what he could tell, seven brutes had been killed here, along with four harvesters. What ever had done this had incredible firepower backing them.

"What could have done this?" Liara asked, shock clearly in her voice as she turned to him, wide-eyed, "Do you think Wrex's troops came through here?"

He shook his head, "What, and came through with no casualities or a single injury? No, something else did this. Something incredibly powerful."

Mild tremors passed through the ground they were standing on, but then it was gone as soon as it came. But these tremors hadn't been like the larger ones at the highway and in the catacombs. They were weaker, but still strong.

After recovering from his shock of seeing the decimated enemy force, he suddenly remembered that they were now above ground and their comms would be working.

He immediately keyed the comm to Wrex, "Wrex, this is Shepard, do you read me?"

There was a single moment before the krogan responded, a laugh coupling alongside it, "I was wondering when you'd contact us again."

"Sorry, we were underground. Needed to reach the surface to get any connection," he replied, searching the bright orange sky for any indication of the turian fighters. He couldn't find a single trace of them.  _Vanguard must have shot them all down. Its just us now._ With that in mind, he chose his next words carefully, "Wrex...the turian fighters are gone. We've lost our diversion, and I can't see us reaching the Shroud without-"

"Going to stop you right there, Shepard," the krogan abruptly decided, and Marcus thought he could imagine the krogan grinning right now due to the amusement in his voice, "Eve has an insane plan that might just work."

"A plan? I'd love to hear it," Marcus stated, motioning for Liara to move forward. They practically moved as one, Marcus removing his mattock and levelling it down range, letting his palm hold the bottom of the weapon so as to allow fast sweeping of his rifle. They carefully stepped around a hole right infront of them, ducking under the dead brute he had noted before.

"Captain, have you heard of Kalros?" Eve's voice suddenly filled his ears, a large contrast from Wrex's more intimidating, hardened voice. Hers was slightly sweeter, but still had the noticable rough tone that all krogan seemed to possess.

He frowned, nodding, "I've heard Wrex talk about her alot. Somekind of krogan goddess, or something or other." As he finished his sentence, he came to stand again, Liara right behind him with her own SMG levelled, and they moved around a corner, almost freezing to the spot when they heard varren howls in the distance.

He heard Wrex guffawing in the background and even Eve sounded like she was smiling, "You are right in that we revere Kalros Shepard, but she is no god. She is not omnipotent or all powerful; she is a mortal, just like us. But she is incredibly powerful and very close."

"I feel like you're getting to something," Marcus deadpanned, climbing over a crumbled pillar and moving to join Liara as she stepped over the cold cadaver of a shredded husk.

"Kalros is a thresher maw," Eve stated bluntly, "The mother of Tuchanka, and the mother of all threshers, and the biggest creature on this planet."

Marcus felt himself stopping for a moment, his throat suddenly dry, "The mother of all threshers?" Images of Akuze flashed through his mind, and he suddenly felt very dizzy, a cold sweat building on his brow as he remembered a member of his squad being devoured-

"Shepard, are you okay?" Liara's voice swept aside his thoughts, the asari at his side as she worriedly looked into his eyes, "You don't look so good."

"No, no I'm fine," he assured her, waving her off as he ignored the coldness building on his face. He returned to addressing the krogan, "You're telling me that there is something bigger than friggin  _thresher maws_  on Tuchanka? What's next, you've got planet-sized fleas?"

"I do not know what a flea is, but I assure you captain, Tuchanka is no stranger to the strange," Eve responded, almost amusingly, "Kalros is Tuchanka's guardian, and our largest inhabitant."

Suddenly, it all made sense. The shadow he had seen. The painting on the wall. Kalros, the Mother of all Thresher Maws. That's what they had been. Kalros was on the move, but why?

Oblivious to his thoughts, Eve continued, "Kalros has been awakened by Vanguard's arrival and is wanting to rid her homeland of it. We must use this to our advantage. From here, I believe we have a plan. We must lure Kalros to Vanguard. Wants she has engaged it in combat, we can enter the Shroud and disperse the cure. And before you lecture me on Vanguard's abilities, we have thought of this and have come to the conclusion that Kalros  _will_ win any battle she has with Vanguard, as long as she has the element of surprise, which she will. She is familiar with Tuchanka, Vanguard is not. She will come out on top, and we should leap on this opportunity."

Marcus had visibly stopped, as could be told by Liara turning around in confusion at him, frowning as he seemed to whistle, shaking his head.  _They want a thresher maw to attack a Reaper? Oh goody, two nightmares in one, fighting each other. Sounds like the ultimate dream, actually._

"Shepard?" Wrex's voice came through the comm, shattering his thoughts, "Should we do it? Once you reach the harbour, should we go through with it?"

He swallowed, licking his lips. It took him a moment to think on it, but in the end, what did they have to lose?

"Do it," he decided, "We'll lure Kalros into attacking Vanguard."

"This is a battle I  _need_  to witness!" he heard Grunt cheer in the background, followed by what had to be Wrex's chuckle, the krogan chieftain's voice quickly overriding the supersoldier's amusement.

"There's a temple outside of the Shroud with two hammers. That's how we'll call in Kalros. I'd go into the details, but you don't need to know; only that those hammers need to echo throughout Que'k if we want Kalros to attack."

He nodded, but before he accepted the plan, he spoke again, frowning at the holes around him, "Also, me and Liara just left the catacombs and entered this courtyard. But you won't believe what we found; an entire Reaper force just  _decimated._ And the funny thing? No orange blood or dead krogan, so I don't know who could have done it. But there are holes all over the place."

There was a brief chuckle on Grunt's end, followed by Wrex's response, "Seems Vanguard's angered our inhabitants. Kalros also tends to either create a decrease in threshers when she is around, or a massive increase. In our case, it would appear she's brought her entire nest. Those holes were likely made by thresher maws would the Reapers wrongly decided to piss off."

He gulped, heart-beat quickening, "Wait, thresher maws? As in plural?"

"Yes, Shepard. There are a massive amount more than there usually are when Kalros isn't around. So that means-"

A loud roar cut him off instantly, and he could practically  _feel_ the tension on the other end.

He gulped, "What was that?"

There was a moment of silence, shuffling and then a completely voice spoke over the comm, "We'll contact you later, Shepard! We-SHIT! Wrex, could you please drive faster!" Garrus grunted, followed by a yelp of displeasure, "I said DRIVE! NOT CRASHING INTO EVERY WALL YOU CAN FIND!" Suddenly, as if remembering he existed, readdressed him, "See you later, Shepard." And then, the comm cut, giving Marcus no chance to ask what the hell had been going on.

Marcus simply stood there, completely flabbergasted until a titantic roar, practically identical to the one he heard over the radio, resounded through the city walls, freezing Marcus to the spot in terror. His limbs shook, he felt cold sweat building up again and he felt one of his eyes twitch, his whole body feeling jittery. The sound had been too much like a thresher maw. But this one was much more resonating, more powerful, supreme.

It had to be Kalros. The thought made him shudder. He had fought (he preferred to call it survived) a swarm of thresher maws on Akuze, but had watched his entire team get devoured. He was terrified of them, their pitiless gaze always reminding him of his lost men, men who would never see their families again because they died to creatures of nightmares. And now the mother of all of them was nearby, twice their size and three times as horrifying and the most terrifying creature in existence. And he was supposed to get close enough to see the fucker  _fight a Reaper._

_Then let the fear grip you. You want to sabotage the genophage? Then you'll have to get close enough to Kalros to do so. Its the least you fucking deserve._

He sighed, calming himself as he tore his eyes away from what inevitably lay nearby, steeling himself and caging his emotions. He could not allow fear to compromise him; he would not let it happen again, not after Grunt's Rite of Passage. How he had hidden like a coward when the thresher maw arose; incorruptible, a man of strength and power and one of the toughest sons of bitches in the galaxy, and he pissed himself when the mere sound of a thresher maw roar entered his ears. Even Tali's comfort hadn't alleviated his humiliation that day. And he would not let it happen again.

He would not be a coward.

He was no craven.

Afterall, how could he fight the Reapers if a single thresher maw frightened him to death?

He met Liara's eyes, and nodded, motioning to an exit just ahead, "We should get moving; we'll be nearing the harbour soon, and I want to be there when Wrex gets there."

"But...what happened to them? Garrus sounded...panicked," Liara worriedly asked, looking terrified.

He turned to her, a strong confidence in his eyes, "They'll be fine. They'll meet us there; nothing has changed. I promise. Would I lie?"  _Lie about not telling lies. Got it._

She shook her head, "No, no you wouldn't. Come on, we probably should get over there. My leg is really starting to hurt."

He nodded, pushing past her to move towards the exit, not so much as giving her a single glance as he trudged forward, his rifle feeling suddenly alot lighter.

_You're a cold bastard._

_I need to be for what I'm going to do._

_So you've decided?_

_I guess I have._

_Then it's settled. You're officially a cold bastard._

His dark humour wasn't helping matters. But he surmized that if he thought about it less, the easier it'd be to go through with it. If he was going to condemn an entire species to death in the pinnacle of their hope, the least I can do is not take the coward's way out.  _Goody, remind yourself that they still have hope. That'll make it easier._

_Victory at any cost._

This just wasn't Marcus' day.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1601 hours._

_City Harbour, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

"Liara, on your twelve," he barked through the radio, grunting as he squeezed the trigger once more, rifle kicking back against his shoulder accompanied by a muzzle flash. Hot lead shot forward to connect with the forehead of the charging varren, blasting its head open and sending a cone of gore and viscera splattering onto the stone behind it, coating it in a thick red rivulet.

His rifle smoked, but he ignored it as he twisted to face his next target, first hitting the varren in the left leg, causing it to yelp as its forward momentum caused it to trip and fall, followed by a shot in the eye finishing it off, eye matter cleansing the ground.

A report of SMG fire followed his warning, followed by the thud of a dead varren. Seeing as she was safe and knew what she was doing, he turned to the left and took down yet another varren, followed by a second. One by one, the creatures charged forward in their packs, intent on feasting on human and asari flesh.

Unfortunately for them, this piece of prey was wearing thick body armor and had a heavy rifle.

They had lasted a long while in the ruins and were just outside the harbour when this happened.

Apparently, varren packs had united and had been following them the entire way. And only now that they were just outside the harbour (the tremors becoming earthquakes again, he noticed), did the varren decide to make their move.

For them, it would be the last they made.

For Marcus and Liara, they were an inconveinience.

He heard a growl from behind him and quicky loosed off a shot, killing the varren charging him before rolling onto his back, holding his rifle infront of him.

Varren paws landed ontop of his rifle, grabbing onto it as it barked in his face, growling and snarling. Saliva and spittle coated his visor in droplets while Marcus struggled with the varren, but it wasn't a very tough fight; he had cybernetics, this animal didn't.

Letting one hand hold his rifle, he reached down to his belt and pulled out a grenade, priming it and quickly shoving it into the varren's mouth, before bringing back both his legs, pinning them under the varren's belly and roughly thrusting upwards and back.

The varren practically glided off of him, but Marcus didn't bother looking for its destination, instead rolling back onto his belly, repositioning his mattock in time to see the varren explode in a brilliant flash, chunks of flesh and muscle and bone exploding in every direction, shredding or blowing apart any other varren within the blast radius. And Marcus just continued his slaughter, one by one.

Suddenly, his mattock hissed empty and he saw that it was empty. Deciding he had no time to reload, he holstered his rifle and quickly drew his claymore, bringing it up in time to tear the torso off a leaping varren, bloodying his armor even further in wet crimson.

But despite his grenade throw, the varren just kept going.  _How many of these bloody things are there? Where are they all coming from?_

Then the varren just stopped coming, as if sensing his thoughts. He turned to Liara to see her backed against a wall, sitting, grimacing as a varren's jaw was closed around her arm, Liara preparing a biotic warp, purple blood oozing from where the creature's teeth penetrated the blue flesh of her arm.

And as suddenly as the varren stopped, a tremor followed.

A titantic roar filled the city once more... _much_ closer.

A familiar sound of a tomkah's engines followed, and his eyes shot to a bridge up ahead, overhanging the harbour and leading down to the main storage port. A long line of three tomkahs, one who's engine was smoking and who's hull seemed to be scorched black from something, shot past at full speed, as if running from something.

Another roar.

The ground under the bridge practically exploded outwards in a colossal storm of sand, stone and concrete as Kalros, the Mother of all Thresher Maws, erupted from the depths.

Marcus felt himself tremble slightly, but he steeled himself again, refusing to give into fear.  _Get ahold of yourself, damn it._

Instead, he focused on the creature itself. Its skin was pitch black, like that of night, chitin covering its body like armor plating. Even during its initial burst from the ground, it easily towered over normal threshers, its legs longer and meatier, along with two extra ones and its maw stretched to its widest, able to consume ten tomkahs in one gulp if it so wanted. Possibly a damn corvette.

Its body continued to erupt, and it roared once more, the very  _sound_ enough to shake the ground.

And then it shot back down again, back into the ground, the rest of its body following; it took almost a full two minutes for its entire body to disappear underground again. Within a moment, Tuchanka's guardian had revealed itself, and vanished, just like that. And in that moment, Marcus knew Wrex and the others were in some deep  _shit._

He looked down, but was surprised to see the varren were long gone; even the one latched onto Liara's had just run off, startled by Kalros and frightened, all at once. She was the top dog, and the rest of Tuchanka's creatures fled in sight of her. She was  _queen._  Monarch of Tuchanka. Liara was just left now to apply medi-gel to her wounds; her arm was fine, but otherwise riddled with numerous bite marks from the varren's razor sharp teeth, and a few scythed downwards leaving ragged flesh, an indication of the varren trying to rip her arm off, but failing. The asari was in pain, but that seemed to alleviate as she placed the medi-gel on her arm.

But that didn't rid him of the sight of her purple blood in a thick pool under her legs.

He jumped down from his perch on a shattered stone tower, coming to land with a thud on the ground next to her and pumping his shotgun before holstering it on the small of his back as he came to kneel next to his asari friend, who looked at him with a weary smile.

"Just...a few bite wounds. Nothing...serious," Liara grunted, sighing happily as the medi-gel began to harden and clog her injury.

He shook his head, grabbing her arm and turning it over to see what other wounds existed. Seeing there was none, he simply scoffed, "You're just as stubborn as I am."

She laughed then, coughing afterwards from the dust she inhaled, "That's...a fair...assessment," she motioned to the harbour ahead, "I see...our friends...are in trouble."

He nodded, "That's right. They seem to have caught Kalros' attention. But Wrex is tough; he'll pull through. We just need to get to the bottom of that harbour and extract."

"We've barely encountered any Reaper troops," Liara observed, "Must mean they're all scattered or concentrated at the temple. That, or...Vanguard pulled them out when it heard...Kalros was around. It would be hard not to hear that roar."

As if on cue, they heard an airhorn; distant, but there all the same.

_**You are close, Shepard.** _

_**It does not have to be this way. Embrace us.** _

He smiled. Vanguard was worried, he could tell.  _How about you go fuck yourself?_

_**Then you will watch your fellow organics perish in vain.** _

_See you soon, asshole._

"Come on," he hurried replied, ducking under her arm and hefting her up on her good leg, "We should get moving before Vanguard sends troops here. He won't hide from Kalros forever."

With her injured arm over his shoulder and the spectre helping her limp, they quickly, and assuredly, made their way over to the lower bridge, which now had a huge hole down the middle due to Kalros' passing. Luckily for them, a nice, convenient path of broken stone provided a hill that they could walk down into the harbour with. From there, he could radio Wrex for pickup. But if they ran into the enemy...

One look up and down Liara's form was all the assessment he needed.  _She's lost the use of one leg, and now one arm is practically useless. She's no longer fit for combat. I think I'll leave her in the tomkah when we storm the Shroud._

_One less friend to witness your betrayal, then?_

Just as they reached the start of the bridge, Garrus' voice sounded over the radio, "Marcus! You there!? Please respond!"

He moved to comm his helmet, temporarily stopping to do so, so that he didn't hit Liara in the face. She had enough injuries as it was; she didn't need a broken nose too.

His voice soon flooded the comm, "I'm here, Garrus. We've just reached the lower bridge connecting the port and the harbour; we'll be heading down in the minute. How's your ETA?"

"Damn quick!" James shouted.

Garrus gave a more measured response, "Translation: We're literally seconds from that location and we aren't stopping for social! We've got Kalros right up our ass, and Wreav is having a hard enough time shaking her! Spirits, she's fast! There she is again!" This time, both sides heard the screech she gave, followed by the thunderous explosion. Just as they heard it though, the three tomkahs burst from around the corner, heading towards them, "We see you! Get down here now! We're not hanging around!"

He knew they wouldn't get down there in time. So there was only one option.

"You trust me, Liara?" Marcus asked as he looked over the edge.

"Uh, yes?" she confusingly replied, regarding him with concern.

"Good. Hold on tight," and without warning, he jumped over and slid down the debris to the bottom, using the smoothed out sections and keeping Liara ontop of him so that if any sharp objects were poking out, they would stab him, not her.

When they reached the bottom, they tumbled over and over in the hot sand until coming to a full stop. Liara coughed and wheezed, Marcus shaking the sand from his body as he picked her up, throwing decency to the wind and holding her in his arms as he came to stand, ignoring Aralakh's blasting ultraviolet and immediately running towards the three approaching tomkahs.

Wrex's tomkah practically stopped right infront of where they were running, causing him to almost run into it. Wreav's took up the rear, while the other one carrying the rest of his squad took point.

He watched as the hatch shot open, Garrus quickly revealing himself alongside James, "Marcus, get in-spirits! What happened to you, Liara?" The turian had obviously noticed her plethora of wounds as soon as he stepped out.

He pushed past the turian and thrusted Liara into Vega's arms, "Get her inside and make sure she's comfortable; when this is done, we get her to Chakwas and Michel as soon as possible. Its nothing life threatening, but she should be looked at. Now let's move!"

Just as James moved into the tomkah's main cabin, Wreav shouted his agreement, "Finally! Something I can agree with! Damn it, we need to move! Seismic activity building up again! Disturbingly close! We need to get moving,  _now!_ "

"I hear you, pyjak!" he heard Wrex shout back to the cabin, and Garrus quickly waved him inside. But just as Marcus took his first step into the vehicle, he heard the sand split again, and he turned in time for a gargantuan shadow to fall over him, blocking out the sun.

Kalros extended almost immediately to a full 160 feet, towering a full ten feet over the tallest Reaper Destroyer. Her screech rang his eardrums, almost deafening him, and he watched a wall of chitin plating just rise, sand falling off in plumes. She smashed what remained of the bridge, bits of stone raining around her as she turned to them and if a thresher had a gaze, it would be full of hate at that moment.

And as she descended, he thought, for a moment, even with Garrus' screams, that it was all over. He saw how quickly threshers descended, and Kalros would be even faster; one thing to know about them is that if they begin to descend, its already too late for you to move.

Then something happened. He realized Kalros wasn't descending towards  _them._ He realized this only just as Kalros mouth slammed into the ground, wide open and taking its prize.

He could only hear Wreav's screams as his tomkah was consumed in the giant maw, and Kalros' form began to slither back into the ground, taking Wrex's blood brother with him, devouring the krogan alive along with whatever men he had in the vehicle with him. Within a minute, Kalros was almost gone, but Wreav and his men were no doubt dead.

"Come on! While its feasting we can get out of here!" Wrex shouted, and Marcus felt Garrus roughly grab him and pull him inside, closing the hatch behind him. He heard the krogan manning the turret open fire on Kalros, but he could imagine just how futile it would; it didn't help Vanguard's troops.

As soon as the hatch closed and the tomkah began motion once more, Marcus realized it hadn't been Garrus who pulled him inside, it was Grunt, who now leaned against a wall, claymore holstered and arms crossed, barely noticing as Wrex began his stampede of terrible driving and awful maneveures.

He turned, and nodded to Mordin, who quietly nodded back, Eve doing so as well before turning back to the cockpit. Liara, as he had told James to do, was sprawled across two of the seats, her injured arm cradled across her chest and eyes closed, obviously having given into exhaustion and falling asleep. James now sat next to him, Garrus on his right.

"What about Wreav?" Eve asked Wrex from her spot, "He might still be alive."

Wrex's snort could have been heard from Thessia, "Wreav was a weak-willed varren. Tali kicked his ass, everyone kicked his ass, Shepard kicked his ass, you kicked his ass. If Kalros' tastebuds are any good, she'll spit out his mutilated corpse somewhere. He's as good as dead. Not that it matters," this time, his snort was alittle less loud, "He was a pain in the ass anyway."

Despite the darkness of it, Marcus felt himself smile slightly at that.

The tomkah continued to rock as they moved across Que'k's desert dunes, moving back and forth, up and down, over each hill, piece of stone and concrete or wreckage they drove over, the other tomkah no doubt right behind them. No roars were heard and Wrex had since dumbed down their speed, which must have meant Kalros had given up pursuit. Maybe it was as Wrex said; maybe Kalros spat Wreav out and decided they wouldn't taste any better.

But now a new obstacle lay ahead and was getting closer and closer with every dozen meters.

He gulped, the climax of his decision coming closer and closer.  _Victory at any cost. We fight or we die. Sabotage the genophage, and I get the entire collective power of the Salarian Union, Dalatrass promised. But after this, I_ _ **will**_ _kill her. And if she's lied? I'll kill her anyway._  
 _Either way, I want her fucking dead._

They were just words, he knew. Realistically, he couldn't afford grudges. The fact was that leaders like Linron were needed to win the war, as their support could change the course of entire battles or the war itself. And he couldn't deny the power of every salarian engineer the Union had building the Crucible. It would speed construction right along.  _Possibly even put completion with in two months instead of a year._

But can we last a year? The protheans lasted centuries, but that was survival; any chance they had at victory had been lost only a few years into the war or when they lost their own Crucible. And prothean technology, evident by Javik's particle rifle, was definitely more advanced than anything they had; the only ones to have superceded them in their cycle was the geth, but that was but one faction.

But he couldn't despair. He could only keep his eyes on the prize.  _A bloody prize._

A worthy prize, he hoped.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1619 hours._

_Ancient Temple, The Shroud, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Professor Mordin Solus, Eve, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

Marcus could only think of one thing at that moment: what the fuck were they getting themselves into?

They stood, metaphorically, at the gates of hell, the large stone ruins of the once proud temple standing before them, almost as big as the Reaper guarding them. Two monolithic krogan statues stood at the end, one on each side, one on the left holding a sword, while another held a tool of rarity; an ancient krogan warhammer. A weapon that would have taken ten, heavily built human men to even  _lift._ Hell, Marcus doubt he would have been able to pick up one himself.

At the end of the temple though, and almost entirely blocking their view of the Shroud, was Vanguard. It looked down at them, unmoving, its glowing red eye patient, but promising instant death to those that trespassed its domain. Even as Marcus stood there, he felt like an ant compared to its sheer immensity. Insignificant. Irrelevant in its majesty.

 _Majesty?_ His eyes looked into the red eye, and he saw nothing but...nothing. Just blank. Nothing but the cold void of a machine's thoughts; calculating and ticking over like a clock.  _No, there is nothing majestic about this. That machine is an exterminator. A destroyer of worlds. Of civilizations. A Grim Reaper in its own right. No, the only majesty it have would be its destroyed, mangled wreck._

He wondered just what Vanguard was thinking at that moment. If it could, would it laugh at the futility of their attempt to pass it? Would it gloat its arrogance to them? Would it open fire and obliterate them all instantly in a flash? Yes, it probably would. But it couldn't. It was a fearless, humorless, patient machine that could wait eons to make its move and still have the grace of an expert assassin. No, Vanguard was patient. It would let them have their time.

And as soon as they got too close, it would fire, and destroy them all in an instant.

Marcus pitied it. Sovereign had underestimated him. Harbinger still underestimated him. The Collectors had played their games with him and the Shadow Broker had thought himself untouchable.

They had thought he wouldn't destroy a system full of people to stop them.

In all accounts, they had been laughably wrong. And today, Vanguard would once again pay for such a mistake.

In the end, he asked 'what the fuck were they getting themselves into?' not because he questioned the validity of their objective, but merely the insanity of it. Only a krogan could have thought of such an idea.

And only Marcus Shepard could have agreed to it.

"You see why I call you loco now?"

Marcus merely grinned, turning to James, "I knew from the get go, James. I just accepted it."

The marine scoffed, hefting his Revenant like a long-lost child as he couldn't help but gulp as he saw Vanguard towering nearby, "Can't say I'm not crapping myself right now."

"Just make sure it doesn't smell," Kasumi remarked, her arms crossed, "I hate smelly people."

Vanguard's airhorn blared, as if demanding their attention, almost shaking the foundations of the temple around them.

Kasumi gulped as well, her amused attitude evaporating, "Yeah...I know you're there, big guy...boy, do I know..."

He slapped her shoulder, "We'll be alright."

"As alright as charging a Reaper while it can see you can be, yeah," she responded not so cheerily.

"The thief is right. This mission is suicidal, no matter the means," Javik grunted, "But I cannot question the ambition of it. We always marvelled at krogan stupidity in some areas; but sometimes we mistook their stupidity for tactical brilliance."

"The prothean is being positive," Garrus sighed, "Help us."

Wrex leapt from the hatch at that exact moment, Eve and Mordin following quickly behind him, the salarian staying close to her, almost in a protective fashion.

The krogan growled at Javik, his expression angry, "We're curing the genophage, no matter what it takes. This plan is crazy, but its the only way. We cannot go back! We've come to far to be stopped by this... _pyjak!_ "

Vanguard took no notice, merely glaring back, remaining in calm vigil.

Mordin brought up his omni-tool, nodding as he did. After a minute, it beeped and he pointed to a room on their right, "Excellent. Will take Eve and enter through his route. Better chance of reaching Shroud. Rest of team should take direct route to ensure safety. Lose Eve, lose cure. Simple fact."

"Thanks for volunteering us," Garrus replied dryly.

"This is absolutely crazy," Keeling added, "I can't believe we're even contemplating this. The risks of this going wrong are all over the place. One of us could get killed; all of us, even."

"Shepard is no stranger to insanity," Wrex remarked, moving up and grabbing the man with both hands on his shoulders, gripping them hard, "He went head to head with Sovereign! He went and took the fight to the Collectors! He stormed the Shadow Broker's base and escaped a base full of indoctrinated marines! This is a mere footnote in your tome of crazy."

He smirked, despite his dark thoughts, "You got me, Wrex. I'm quite the hypocrite."

"Don't we know it," Garrus chuckled, "And you'd be dead without me through most of it, so I guess I'll tag along if you ask nicely."

"Get fucked Vakarian. You're coming with, whether you like it or not."

"You're so harsh. All I asked for was 'please.'"

"Let's just make sure we get out of here in one piece," the captain stated, squaring his shoulders and cracking his neck and knuckles in preparation for what awaited them, "We're all going to have one hell of a story to tell."  _What will mine be like, I wonder? I'm just glad I'm not writing an autobiography._

Mordin nodded to him, a smirk gracing his features. His squad nodded their agreement, all thumbing the triggers on their weapons in nervous anticipation. Marcus nodded reassurance to them, giving them a smile he knew they couldn't see, but it was more for himself than anyone else.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder, grasping it tightly. He turned to Wrex, watching the krogan's determined become humble and full of thanks. The krogan smiled, and this time it was warm, any of the krogan's usual sadism or mischief not present.

"I just want you to know Shepard..." the krogan began, swallowing as he collected himself. And when he did, Marcus had never seen such passion in the krogan's eyes as he did now, "That no matter what happens, you've been a champion to the krogan people, a friend of Clan Urdnot..."

He gulped, looking at the ground temporarily before meeting Marcus' eyes again, pulling his hand away and holding it out, smiling as he offered his broshake, "And a brother to me!" Marcus eagerly took his hand and clenched around it, the krogan drawing him close and slapping his back in a brotherly hug. When he pulled away, the spectre found himself alittle lost for breath, but the krogan chieftain barely seemed to notice.

"From here forth, every krogan born after this day, will know one thing," he grinned, "The name 'Shepard' will mean  _HERO!_ "

Grunt roared in agreement, and he heard James cheer, Garrus chuckling. Eve nodded to him, hand to her chest in a sign of respect. One by one, as he looked around and saw his squad, they gave their cheer.

Javik stood as stoic as ever, EDI merely smiled and nodded, and in quite an amusing move, funnelled the sound of a stadium's cheering fans through her audio output, almost creeping him out. Kasumi gave him a mock salute, grinning from ear to ear. And Keeling simply saluted him, noting with some disbelief that he even got to see a smile on her face.

"Semper Fi, sir," she stated crisply.

And as he met Wrex's gaze, he was glad they couldn't see his expression.

A mixture of self-loathing rose in his chest once more, hot sweat building over his body, coupled with his goosebumps of nervousness. He felt his heart-beat increasing, and he just wanted to tell them; right there and then.

_"'Shepard' will mean HERO!"_

_No, no it won't. You don't know...oh God, you don't know...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..._

_Damn that bitch! Two words and she has me spilling allied blood! I might as well be slitting Wrex's throat! And Mordin...jesus...he'll find out...what will I do then?_

No, Shepard didn't mean 'hero.' It meant alot of things alot more debilitating.

_Like treacherous motherfucker._

I don't deserve to see Tali ever again. And she doesn't deserve to have me for a husband. If she knew what was going on in my head...

...she'd try to talk me out of it.

The thought gave him little comfort as he brought back his resolve, bringing the walls back up. The castle had almost been overrun, but his mental reinforcements had arrived just in time to save the day.  _But will those reinforcements be enough? How long until the walls fall again, and this time, permanently?_

"Come on," Wrex's voice disturbed his thoughts, bringing out his claymore as he turned to face Vanguard, "Let's show them why!"

"Shit, look out!" James shouted, and Marcus immediately spun on the spot, entering a crouch as he drew his SMG.

Four marauders scaled the crest of the sandy escarpment, six cannibals following behind them and a couple of husks. The lead marauder spotted them almost instantly, screeching its high-pitched gibberish as it levelled its phaeston, ready to fire.

Marcus was ready to engage, but found his sights blocked by an armoured form. He frowned, turning away and refocusing his eyes to see that Wrex had just marched straight at them, snarling, body aglow with blue ethereality.

"I AM...!" he roared, sucking up the first four bursts of the phaeston before he biotically tossed the marauder aside, barreling into another and shoving him away with his momentum, sending it sprawling on the ground, crying its defiance.

"...URDNOT WREX...!" he spun and aimed his claymore, taking the torso off an approaching cannibal and leaving him covered from chest to thighs in black blood, before reloading it, sending a biotic shockwave down the waves of husks, sending them all flying in numerous directions; either breaking their frail bodies on stone blocks or landing with a thud and after a moment, getting back up to charge again.

"...AND THIS...!" The krogan leapt up and came down again, fist splitting the ground as it sent a blinding flash of biotic energy surging around him, vaporizing the cannibals in its radius, nearly blinding his squad, and singing the body of a third marauder.

"... _IS_ _ **MY**_ _PLANET!_ " The first marauder came up behind and stabbed him in the back with a knife, but Wrex was already in a blood rage, and barely felt it. Eyes filled with malice and venom, he spun and grabbed the marauder around the next, crushing its neck with his bare hand before bringing it up and over his back and slamming its porcelain body into the ground, killing it. He brought it up back and whacked the second marauder to the ground, who had attempted to take aim.

The fourth marauder managed to hit Wrex in the crest, but the bullet simply pinged off and Wrex ignored it. He moved and stomped down on the second marauder's trachea before tossing the remainder of the first's into the fourth's, causing to fall to the ground in a heap. And even as this happened, more Reaper troops moved in for the kill.

Seemingly oozing black sludge, he spun around and nodded, "Go! Get to the hammers and summon Kalros! I'll deal with this!"

Marcus nodded, motioning to his squad to form on him, watching as Wrex disappeared behind the hill, charging the Reaper formation. It was hard to stop a krogan, but it was practically impossible when he was in a blood rage.

He turned to Garrus, slapping his shoulders, "We're going to split up; we need to divert Vanguard's attention. If we give it one target, it'll make it too easy for it to take us out. We should move individually," he turned to the others, "Kasumi, Keeling, James and Javik, you take the right side.  _Do not move together._ Stay close but not too close. If Vanguard opens fire, the likelihood of us all dying at once is near zero."

"Well that's enlightening," Kasumi deadpanned.

He ignored her quip, "The rest of you, with me, same deal. Move for the hammers and do not stay in Vanguard's sights for too long! We just need to bring in Kalros guys; she'll do the rest! Okay, let's move!"

"Battlemaster," Grunt spoke up, and he turned to the krogan, looking up at him, "I'm coming with you."

He frowned, "Don't you want to wait for your company?"

"And miss the big fight?" the supersoldier guffawed, "Not going to happen. Heh. Heh. Heh."

He noticed Garrus almost flinch, "I swear, that chuckle isn't normal. Its psychotic."

"He's a krogan. Cut him some slack," James retorted, "They were born psychotic."

He nodded, slapping the krogan's shoulder, "One last battle together, then?"

He grinned, "My blood calls for their deaths, Shepard. Let us make spilling it enjoyable."

"Will remain with Eve and take side passage. Will remain tight nit, protect her from Reaper troops," Mordin added, "Will reach Shroud first, hopefully. Finish synthesizing cure. You will arrive after, enter cure, all leave alive, genophage cured. Will see you on other side."

He nodded, "Stay safe, Mordin."

The salarian simply smirked, "Always safe. Reason I'm still here. Survived Virmire, yes?" Without another word, the professor was gone, Eve following behind him at a quick pace, both of them disappearing into the temple.

Marcus turned back to the temple once more, stealing a long breath as he looked into Vanguard's cyclops eye, daring him to make a move.

_**I see your every movement. Your efforts will be moot.** _

He grinned.  _I'm already going to hell, why accept yours? You've lost, Vanguard. And I will not surrender._

_**I will acknowledge every second you survive this pathetic bravado, then. Goodbye, Shepard.** _

Goodbye indeed.

And with a burst of energy, he charged.

_Victory at any cost..._

**"Keelah, that must have been terrifying. But of course you'd be fine with it, you crazy bosh'tet."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"What can I say, I'm an insane psychopath. Why did you marry me again?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Something about you being sexy. And dashing."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"If you're done making me sick, we've got work to do. The charge."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Of course, Commander. The charge. Epic, but the endgame was both depressing and fantastic, all at once. Remember how I said I was ashamed of a certain action I made? Well there it was. The culmination of my decision."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Hold on, WackyJack! Before you grab your pitchfork and napalm and come to my house, please read the next part! You won't regret it!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	29. The Name of a Hero, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard rallies his squad for one final push to the Shroud. Vanguard battles with the queen of Tuchanka. One final sacrifice is made.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**THE NAME OF A HERO PART THREE**

_June 21, 2186_

_1624 hours._

_Ancient Temple, The Shroud, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

Had Marcus not rolled to the left at the last second, he probably would have been buried under a pile of rubble, or rather,  _crushed_ , the stone slamming into the ground with such force it shattered and scarred the floor beneath it, clouds of dust exploding inwards like a tornado. But it was the red, superheated residue left over from the blast that had worried him, the floor behind them now missing and hissing, a testament to the firepower that had annihilated the wall.

As if to signal its frustration at being unable to kill them, a Reaper airhorn resounded throughout the complex, angry and vehement. They felt the ground shake as it moved one of its legs, trying to get closer for a better shot.

Even as Marcus pushed his back against a stone pillar, out of Vanguard's line of sight, Garrus, EDI and Grunt quickly following up behind him, he knew the Reaper's eyes were on them. It just wanted to look them in the eye when it killed them. They had made it half way through the temple, but Vanguard's assault had been relentless; and more than once they had almost died or been vaporized.

But he could see them now. The hammers, he meant. Standing tall and proud, rusting, but still in their prime and ready to summon the greatest force of nature the entire galaxy had ever seen. Even a yahg would not be able to match the sheer power of Kalros; and soon, if they could reach those damn hammers, which just happened to be directly under Vanguard's body, they could bring that power to bear on the Reaper that had plagued them for so long. End its reign, once and for all.

He looked to the left to see the rest of the squad following their example, waiting for his go.

He steeled another breath, and then nodded, charging.

It was a few seconds before Vanguard charged up another shot, this one deliberating missing and blasting the top off of a pillar above them, causing the ceiling it supported, and the pillar itself, to come cascading down infront of them.

This halted their momentum none. They didn't wait for the dust to settle, or the tremor of their impact upon the ground to stop, before they leapt ontop of the debris, moving with such speed and vigor that they might have been lightning. But if they stopped for even one moment, it was over.

Despite Vanguard's words, it seemed like the Reaper was deliberating missing with every shot. It only ever tried to kill his squad, but when it came to him, it seemed to be trying to injure him...not kill him...

_Harbinger must want me alive; ordered Vanguard to injure me enough for...smart fuck. But that won't happen. I'll show you just what happens when you underestimate me and my squad._

Vanguard fired again, this shot blowing apart the path directly infront of James. Had the shot lasted any longer, the marine would no longer be among the living. Instead, the marine stumbled from the shock of how close it is and the sheer heat of being so close to it and faceplanted into the ground, instinct sending him into a roll.

"Don't stop! I'll catch up!" he ordered over the comm, not that it was necessary. Marcus just kept sprinting, ignoring the marine's predicament.

"Keep moving! Keep to cover! Don't let it a bead on you!" he barked, and he could feel himself getting closer. They were almost directly under the Reaper, its massive body looming over them like the galaxy's tallest skyscraper. He could practically see the insides of it; the moving gears, glowing red equipment, and what looked to be an access junction. All of it glowed a persistent red, all of it a testament to its double nature as both warship and living being. He remembered Saren's words from years ago, during that final battle on the Citadel.

_"...a union of flesh and steel..."_

No, all he saw was steel. Red, bloodied steel.

A statue exploded infront of him, and he cringed from the closeness of it. He felt his hairs stand on end from the heat that had almost touched him, the searing blast of a sun having almost reduced him to ashes. But Vanguard wanted him alive, he told himself. He wouldn't try to kill him.

"Shit!" a voice broke his thoughts, "I'm stuck!"

He didn't stop, he just kept running, listening to the voices over the comm, "Shepard! Garrus is stuck! A piece of stone fell on his ankle and he's pinned! Shepard! Stop, damn it!  _SHEPARD!_ "

"NO STOPPING!" he roared back, "We stop the genophage today! Keep going! KEEP GOING!"

He moved down the steps, now fully under Vanguard's carapace and out of range of its thanix cannon. He turned to see that none of his squad had followed him and merely shrugged, drawing his mattock.  _So be it, then. I'll fight them myself._

He was now dead center on the intersection. On his left and right were the hammers, so big that they reached the top of Vanguard's torso section. But even as he advanced towards the left, he saw that the Reaper was making no efforts to move or fly away. It simply stood there, waiting. He frowned, not liking this one bit.  _It knows something..._

Suddenly, the intersection lit up and when he looked up, he saw its body flashing bright red, as if preparing to-

Six bursts of orange light exploded from under it and a moment later, slammed into the ground, hard. He was knocked back onto his back by the force of the impacts, which caused the ground to shudder. He grunted, shaking his head as he looked up, eyes widening in their sockets as he fumbled for his grenade belt, and his mattock.

Six blasts, six brutes.

And all their attention focused on him, six tiny heads growling as they glared at him, twisting their muscular forms to face him.

He had torn off a grenade just as the first two brutes were upon him, and he managed to prime it and roll it just as the first one brought up its fist to crush him, instead completely missing him and smashing into stone as he rolled off to the side.

The second was upon him immediately, and he felt himself swiped to the side like an insect, back ramming into a wall and sending him falling back to the ground in a heap, crying out as he pain lanced up his side like fire, the injury he got from Leng flaring up like a beacon as he felt the strain against it; the wound desperately trying to open.

He twisted his head to see them coming again, all six of them. He couldn't hope to win a battle against any of them, really. He was hopelessly outnumbered, and now his mattock was on the steps, faraway from him and no help. Even as he heard his grenade detonate, kicking up dust and debris and shredding the leg of one brute, he knew hope of victory was lost.

_But I have to reach that hammer. I won't die like this._

With as much power as possible, he lifted himself, ignoring the otherwise crippling pain in his back and limping forward at a rapid face, attempting to jog as best as possible. He limped past his discarded rifle, hearing the growls of his pursuers.

But he kept his eyes on the prize, moving up the steps and towards the control panel for the hammer, lying in wait and ready.

With whatever energy he could muster, he launched himself forward and hit the button, watching it light up a dim green, power still routed to it.

He looked up as he saw a thin thread slide up a metal pole to the top, and he knew that as soon as it got there, the hammer would fall; literally.

And that the hammer would slam straight  _into him._

He heard a growl right behind him and he rolled backwards, missing the swipe of a charging brute as it occupied the space he was in before. He entered a fighting stance as it pivoted to face him, beady little eyes promising death and-

Marcus was practically thrown back by the force of the hammer landing, the brute disappearing under 67 tonnes of heavy, reinforced titanium, black blood spewing from under it. He hit the ground about five meters away, biting back a scream as more pain was added ontop of what he already had. But he had done it: the first hammer had been hit. Now for hammer two, and Kalros would come. They hoped.

He could still hear the remnants of the hammer's boom echoing throughout the desert and the roar that answered it, or perhaps that was the intense ringing in his eardrums, repeating the same sound, over and over, like a constant beat. His head pounded, and he could feel the blood behind his eyes. And then a shadow fell over him, and he gulped.

One, single brute loomed, ready to bring its fist down, to cast the final blow to his life.

"Do it," he found himself whispering, "End it."

Before the brute could do as he asked, a flash of light erupted on its back, and its ribcage exploded out and onto him, bits of stringy flesh and cybernetic bone hitting and sliding off his armor. The brute grunted for a second before collapsing forward, Marcus weakly rolling himself to the side as he slammed into the ground, its life (for lack of a better term) leaving its eyes.

In moments, Grunt appeared, moving over to him and helping him up, grenade launcher in one hand and laughing. He could barely hear Vanguard's anger-filled roar (or maybe that was his gloating self conjuring up thoughts of the Reaper in despair) or the sight of muzzle flashes as he was moved down the steps, his squad pushing the brutes back, having killed four already, lying dead in numerous pieces and places.

"Second hammer," he managed to get out, pointing to the monolith, "We need...to hit...the second hammer!"

Grunt saw where he pointed, and nodded, immediately increasing the speed he was moving at. Marcus felt and heard the report of his grenade launcher firing twice, both hitting dead center on a brute; once blowing off its waist, the second reducing its head to a pulp. Grunt just laughed the entire time at the insanity of it, or what the krogan perceived as 'fun.'

Keeling moved past, giving Grunt the thumbs up as she readied what looked to be a makeshift grenade launcher on the bottom of her rifle, taking aim and firing at another charging brute, the much weaker grenade only causing it to stumble. Keeling ducked under a swing, and then fired again, but Marcus had no time to see what damage it did, for Grunt was moving again.

Finally, sound returned to his ears, and the sound of a firefight met his ears, coupled with the growls and roars of the brute squad beyond them, and his team shouting orders at each other. Vanguard's airhorn intermixed with it all, causing a noisy cacophony that the whole Que'k Wasteland could have heard.

Including Kalros.

The second hammer was in sight, Grunt holding him under one arm and advancing up the steps.

Out of nowhere, Grunt ducked low to the ground, crying out as he did. The spectre frowned, not understanding why he had done it. But then he saw it... _felt it_ swing directly above them.

Vanguard's left front leg came to stand at the base of the Shroud, slamming down hard and kicking up a plume of sand, and the sound of shattered stone could clearly be heard as well as an entire building caved in on itself from the impact. Point being, that leg could have shorn both him and Grunt in two and left nothing left of them but a blood pool; but Grunt's quick thinking saved them.

Before he could thank the krogan, they were up and moving again. And in a matter of seconds, they had reached the second hammer, green button glowing more brightly than the first, as if beckoking him to finish the job the first had started. He felt the krogan supersoldier holster his shotgun, and reach out a hand to touch it, ready to finish what-

Marcus placed a hand on his arm, and the krogan turned to face him, seeing the captain shake his head.

Then he nodded, "I'll do it."  _My nightmares._

The krogan, after a moment, nodded and pulled away, moving slightly closer so Marcus could reach it. He practically limped over, but when he finally reached it, he just felt like doing it as dramatically as possible. He practically slammed his closed fist onto the button.

"Move! Its going to come down hard!" Marcus barked, and Grunt quickly helped him back down the steps, distancing themselves from the hammer as much as possible.

They reached the steps just as the hammer came down, the shudder causing not only them to fall flat on their face, but for every single brute in the arena to fall to the ground, and his team to almost totally lose their balance, Kasumi losing her footing and falling down entirely. And this time, Marcus knew for certain that  _he could_ hear the boom of it resounding throughout the desert.

It was like silence had creeped up on them. He felt feel the tension in the air, and as he looked up, he noticed that Vanguard had ceased all movement; no reinforcements came from it, it didn't shift its feet, it didn't even take flight. It simply stood there, its belly right above them.

The silence was almost terrifying. But what followed was much worse...and much better.

A familiar, titantic roar shook the desert plains.

Followed by a much larger screech, and it was  _much closer._

Suddenly, Mordin's voice filled his comms, cutting through the tension like a knife to butter, "Shepard, have reached Shroud. Synthesizing final cure now. Shouldn't take long; only a couple of minutes. Simple. Heard hammers. Then Kalros. Summoned?"

"Mordin, let's just say we're about to be caught in the middle of a shitstorm," Marcus stated, and as if hearing these words, Vanguard began to move forward, shifting its forward legs and moving further into the ruins, its airhorn blaring loudly... _twice._ It entered a battle stance, readying itself. Vanguard knew what was coming, and was prepared for it. Or was it?

Could he successfully claim that he had Vanguard frightened?

Whatever the matter, the brutes were quickly standing up, and he knew they had to move. He immediately twisted on the spot, "Everyone, get to the Shroud, now! We need to get well clear of this!"

The brutes spun on them, but there was only four left anyway. One moved to growl, but out of nowhere, Wrex appeared, omni-blade slicing through its head and sending it rolling across the ground, its hulking form collapsing to the ground. He whorled on them, his red armor no longer recognizable under the dried blackness that coated him, "Go, Shepard! I'll hold them off!"

"No Wrex!" Marcus barked, "Kalros is coming! You'll be caught in the middle!"

"She will not claim me today!" the krogan roared, turning back to the brutes as he charged, "NOT TODAY! MY PLANET! NOT TODAY!  **NOT TODAY!"** And with that Wrex, slammed into the nearest brute driving it back, and engaged in battle with the three, fearsome abominations which were, and had been, effectively, his own people at one stage.

He nodded, turning to look up at Vanguard...

...only to look into its red eye as it glowed brighter and brighter with every charge.

His team had already scattered, so it was pretty much up to him to get out of there before Vanguard fired. But before he could turn to run, the loudest roar he had ever heard in his entire life rattled the foundations of the temple, sending some bits tumbling to the ground, they shook that violently.

He twisted to the left to see a massive plume of sand, as if stretching into the heavens, rising from the ground, and in the midst of it and stretching rapidly, was Kalros, her body springing forward like a viper, maw wide open and claws at the ready, about equal size as Vanguard.

Its beam charged, the destroyer pivoting on the spot, turning to evaluate the new threat presented to it.

But it was not nearly fast enough.

Kalros descended with furious speed, her wide maw slamming and grappling onto its right armoured eye protector, its thanix cannon firing in a wide arc as the Reaper fired instinctively. Vanguard boomed loudly, and it violenty jerked off to the right, slamming Kalros into the ground, forcing the thresher to let go of it. But the maw was immensely strong, and Marcus watched with some shock as it tore off the piece of armor it had been latched onto, spitting it out as it fell onto the ground, leaving Vanguard looking pretty awkward without it.

The destroyer backed up, charging up another shot. However, just as it was ready, Kalros slithered back, and Vanguard fired just as it disappeared under the shifting sands again, its shot incinerating the sand on the ground, but leaving Kalros unharmed.

"Is anyone recording this!?" James cheered over the comm, whooing, "Kalros is kicking  _ass_!"

Marcus didn't have time to reply as Kalros attacked again, this time erupting up from behind Vanguard, out of its line sight.

But this time, the Reaper was ready. It initiated temporary flight to the right, sending it crashing through a large stone tower, causing it to crumble around it. Kalros meanwhile shot past Vanguard and slammed into the ground.

The destroyer quickly brought its leg down ontop of the monstrous worm, pinning it to the ground while prepping its thanix, ready to gut Kalros. Marcus could only watch in horror, knowing the creature had failed.

But just before moved to run for the Shroud, Kalros twisted to face Vanguard, its mouth wide open...

...only for a great big glob, probably the size of six makos, of acid to erupt from said mouth and impact its eye, causing the Reaper to jerk away, airhorn blaring multiple times consistently in what had to be a form of Reaper fury.

And while this happened, Kalros slithered back into the ground, and the fight continued.

Marcus could only grin inwardly as he saw Vanguard's thanix cannon hiss, steam erupting from where the acid had hit, blackening the Reaper's armor and optic. But despite the assault, it did not cripple the main weapon, meaning the Reaper was still in the fight and utilizing its final advantage, brought its leg up and unto itself in a fetal position, and took flight.

Up and up it went, ascending 40 meters...

...sand exploded just below it, and Kalros reached up into the heavens, claws stretching out and grabbing ahold of Vanguard, stopping its ascendance in its tracks.

Vanguard attempted to continue its flight, but Kalros' mass proved too much, weighing it down like an anchor. Even as it jerked, Kalros just held on, screeching angrily as it was tugged at, refusing to let go of its planet's invader.

Vanguard must have realized the futility of its plight and finally descended, at high speed. It stretched out its legs and rammed into the ground, the impact sending him onto his knees and shaking the foundations of the structure he was on. It was then that he was realized that Kalros and Vanguard were literally  _20 meters infront of him._

He turned to the Shroud, to see that it was only a short run away. And with that in mind, he began to run towards it, as fast as he could, trying to escape the battle between the two titans.

He watched a blaze of crimson invade his peripherals, followed by that damn horn, the lance of death arcing through the sand as Vanguard stumbled infront of the Shroud, adamant in its defense as it likely sensed Marcus' intention, despite its struggle with the monolithic creature before it. It almost lost balance, stumbling on one leg, and recovered in time to knock Kalros aside, Marcus watching in terror as the thresher fell to the side, and its body collided with the Shroud's base.

Anyone in the Que'k would have heard the rattle of the structure, how it moaned in protest, how one of its support cables snapped and whipped through the air, pinging harmlessly off Vanguard's armoured form and flinging in the harsh breeze of Tuchanka. But to his surprise, the Shroud continued to stand, and showed no signs of collapsing. The salarians really did build things to last. And with this realization, he continued forward, increasing his speed.

"Shepard!" Keeling shouted over the comms, "We can't reach the Shroud; its just too hectic! We can't get too close! We should pull back!"

"Fall back to the tomkahs!" Marcus ordered, "I'll continue to the Shroud!"

To say Keeling wasn't happy with that idea would have been understatement of the century, "Negative, sir! Its too-"

"Just do as I say, Keeling!" he snapped, "Fall back, now!" And without listening to her response, he cut the comm and ran faster than he had all his life.

He watched as Vanguard stepped to the right, clearly dazed and saw that one of its legs moved more lethargically than the rest. He caught a smile at that.  _Kalros wounded it. Now she's moving in for the kill._

He watched Kalros' form slither back into the ground, a thanix shot slamming into the spot where it had retreated, Vanguard pulling back when it saw she was already gone. Now it waited, pivoting on the spot to see whether or not she-

Marcus almost covered his ears from the screech, Kalros reappearing  _right_ behind Vanguard and slamming into its back, Vanguard shouting its defiance to the entire planet.

Now she had it; it couldn't utilize its thanix cannon, and it knew it couldn't take flight. It had no melee weapons, rendering Vanguard, for all its offensive capabilities, defenseless. A Reaper, the most powerful being in the galaxy, had been rendered  _defenseless_ by an overgrown  _worm._

When he put it that way, it was pretty laughable.

But there it was, Marcus watching as Kalros let go and reattached itself around its back leg, and began slithering around its body, around and around in a clockwise direction, never stopping, until it was wound around the Reaper Destroyer like a snake choking its prey. And with its form wrapped around Vanguard, unable to escape, it began to tighten the noose, converging ontop of the Reaper.

Marcus watched as it tried to charge its thanix, only for the red light to switch off and on, dim, and then the optics cracked. After that, the red eye finally exploded from the pressure, light dying instantly. It flared its airhorn, but now the sound was much weaker; less terrifying, more desperate; sounding like it was losing its voice.

He heard metal protest and groan from the compaction, and watched its armor begin to dent and bend and warp, its injured leg coming off entirely and falling uselessly to the ground.

After a minute of running, finding himself directly infront of the Shroud, Marcus stood there and shook his head, and let out a single chuckle, followed by a snort.

At this point, Vanguard's body had shrunk in size, its eye buried under pressurized metal, and remaining legs mangled and having fallen off, only one remaining and now coated in green, bubbling acid. And slowly, Kalros began to shrink into the ground, taking Vanguard with her.

The Reaper weakly defended itself, but all the fight had left it. The mighty machine of which had terrifed and exterminated entire cycles of civilization was now crushed and beaten, and was now being carried away by the victor to its doom. And Marcus could only watch on in glee as Kalros disappeared underground, followed shortly by Vanguard, its crimson armor vanishing behind the ocean of sand.

Silence filled the void; peaceful silence. No airhorn, no screeches or roars, no pounding hammers. Just quiet. Kalros had retreated, Vanguard was destroyed, and a thousand year old virus still needed curing.

_Curing! No, it must be sabotaged!_

Suddenly, Marcus present dilemma came back, and he gulped, eying the Shroud with continued discontent.  _This is it. I have to make my decision now; the course of the war gets decided here, at this very place._

_And Mordin will know. What will happen? Will he fight me?_

_The cure must be sabotaged to win salarian allegiance! Linron promised her support! Fresh salarian troops, brand new ships, all their engineers for the Crucible!_

_Cure the genophage and you will get the support of the krogan, turians and volus! Three over one! An entire people will be in your debt! You'll be a hero!_

_I am not a hero._

_Victory at any cost._

He sighed, and with some sluggishness, began to move towards the Shroud's entrance, dreading what came next.

When he entered, he found himself at the top of a flight of stairs, overlooking the atrium of the tower. Below was the atrium itself, with numerous consoles and terminals lining the walls, and two data terminals lined vertically across the room. At the back was a glass elevator that ran the spine of the tower, all the way to the tip, and the lack of ceiling allowed Marcus to see right up to the top, along with the entire glass elevator shaft.

Marcus heard metal groan, and realized the Shroud had taken more of a beating than he intially realized. He heard a snap, followed by a loud roar, like that of metal straining.  _This place is going to fall apart. We better make this quick._

As if registering his thoughts, from the door on the right, Mordin rushed into the atrium, omni-tool active as he ran over to the nearest terminal, a vial in his hand. He slotted it in a pocket on his labcoat, beginning to rapidly type at said console, entirely focused on the task ahead.

 _He's going to find out! Stop him!_ Despite his mind's protests, he ignored them and rushed down the steps, rushing over to where his salarian friend stood typing.

"Mordin! Is the cure ready?" Marcus demanded, coming to stand next to the professor, removing his helmet and firmly placing it down on the console infront of him.

Mordin nodded, not turning to face him as he continued, "Cure loaded and ready for dispersal in two minutes. Managed to procure needed DNA from Eve; healthy and okay, will survive, have already sent her back to the tomkahs. Will meet her back there. Maelon's research invaluable."

He nodded, "Its good she survived."

Mordin seemed to smile at that, "Her survival fortunate. Will help stabilize new government incase any revolutionaries try to bring war. Good match for Urdnot Wrex. Produce many children. Promising future for krogan," he stopped himself as they heard another support cable snap in the distance, followed by more metallic moans, "Not so promising for Shroud, however."

The dry humor was lost on Marcus, "Come on Mordin, we need to get out of here now!"  _Draw your pistol, stop him. Do not let the cure disperse._

_What!? I will not draw my weapon on a friend!_

_If you don't, you won't get the support Linron promised! He's going to cure it!_

_Damn her! I wouldn't have to be thinking about this if it wasn't for her!_

"Negative," Mordin replied, oblivious to his thoughts, "Need to take elevator to top of Shroud."

He widened his eyes, looking up, "Are you serious!? This whole place is coming apart, and you want to go up  _there_?"

He simply nodded, as blunt as always, "Yes, need to counteract STG sabotage," he turned up at that, having finished and came to stand almost stoically, and for a moment he thought the salarian looked at him accusingly. It must have been his paranoia however, as the salarian simply continued, "Located inconsistencies in programming. Was able to identify sabotage. Must take elevator up to repair damage and disperse cure safely."

"Mordin...there has to be another way!"  _Yes, try and lure him away._

The professor shook his head and began to move towards the elevator, "No other way. Already thought of all variables. This is the only option."

In a flash, Marcus felt his hand subconsciously move to his SMG and draw it from his holster, the sound easily reaching Mordin's ears as he watched the salarian draw to a halt, spinning to face him...

...just in time to see Marcus' SMG levelled at his head, hand steady and looking at him blankly, "I can't let you do that, Mordin."  _Congratulations, you just drew on a friend. Fan-fucking-tastic._

The salarian frowned, "Drawing on me? Shows desperation. Desperation for what? Looked nervous at mention of sabotage, shows prior knowledge. How could you have-" suddenly, the salarian reached an epiphany, "Dalatrass Linron. Makes sense now. However, always argued for cure. Strong supporter. Potential for having convinced me. Why change? No, hasn't changed. Same ideals. Likely a bribe. But for-" he took a deep breath, and nodded, opening his eyes as he glared at Marcus, the salarian's hand absent-mindedly tapping his own weapon, also at his hip, "Ah, promised you salarian support. Interesting dilemma."

He stumbled, biting his lips as he took a shuddering breath, feeling his hand hand shake with hesitation.  _I can't do this. I can't._

_Pull the damn trigger._

_I can't!_

_Do it! Stop him or you lose the salarians!_

_Don't and you'll be a hero!_

_I'm not a hero!_

_Not to you! TO THEM!_

His hand did not lower low, but he did speak, "I'm sorry, but I can't let you cure this. I need Linron's ships. I need engineers. She's promised it all."  _And I can't lose another friend. Not after Jacob._

Mordin nodded, "Linron known for lies. Bribing you to get what she wants. Not likely to be trusted. Salarians known for this. Yet you took it. Why?"

He shrugged, "Call it desperation. I need those troops, Mordin. I need her ships, her engineers."

"Would rather have friendly ally than an ally bought," Mordin sniffed, "Same principle as mercenaries. Someone who owes you, a friend, more loyal and likely to fight. To win. To triumph. To gain you victory. Mercenaries untrustworthy. Can be bought for right price. You offer high price, enemy offers higher, and allegiances shift. Her loyalty bought. At what cost?"

_He has a point. Linron can't be trusted...and I know Wrex. I trust him with my life. Same with Grunt. And Mordin. And I trust Victus, somewhat. Linron is a slimy piece of shit. I can't trust her._

He felt his gun arm weaken.

Then stiffen again.

_He's lying! He'll say anything to cure this! He's got blood on his hands, he's looking for redemption! You can't talk him out of it! Kill him! Stop him now!_

_I won't murder him!_

_Stop the damn genophage._

"Shepard," Mordin began, "Cannot let you stop me. Linron cannot be trusted. Untrustworthy. Trust me, yes?"

He nodded, "Yes, I do. With my life."

"Will let me cure genophage," Mordin stated, smiling, "Know it to be right thing."

_It is._

_You fool! Don't let him-_

_Silence._

_Shoot him!_

_I WILL NOT MURDER HIM!_

_You are weak!_

_No, I'M JUST NOT A MONSTER!_

And with that, his violently shaking hand unclasped, his SMG clattering to the floor as his hand dropped to his side, and he nodded, "Cure it, Mordin. Save the krogan, and to hell with Linron."

Mordin's smile could not have been wider, "Made right choice. Did right thing, Shepard."

He nodded, but when he noticed Mordin begin moving back towards the elevator, he suddenly remembered what he was doing, and felt himself looking up.  _He's going up. To the top. While this tower is falling back._

His eyes went back to Mordin.  _And he's not likely to come back. There's no time!_

It hit him all at once. Mordin knew this...knew he wouldn't be returning!

Suddenly, he was living Jacob's death all over again.  _No! Not another friend! Please, God no!_

He quickly jogged over, choking out the salarian's name, "Mordin, wait! You can't go up there! You won't survive!"

"Know this," the professor vaguely replied, coming to stand in the elevator and face him, the door still wide open. When he saw Marcus' pleading face, he elaborated, "Have lived long life. Am 39 years of age. Will reach terminal salarian age limit next year. 99 years of age by human standard. Have lived full life. Done many things. Death inevitable. Would like to spend it doing something worthy," he smiled sadly at Marcus, "Apologize for not joining Normandy like promised. Change of plans. Couldn't be someone else. Would have gotten it wrong."

He choked back whatever was building in his throat...he dreaded to think it was a sob, "Mordin...please. I can't lose another friend. Not after Jacob...come with us, we can fix this! Find another way! Maybe deploy this orbitally! Or maybe-"

The salarian held up a hand, silencing him instantly, "Shepard, you misunderstand. Not losing me; that implies I died before intended climax. Not losing me, Shepard," with that, Mordin gave a mirthless grin, "Simply letting history borrow me."

He opened his mouth to say something else, and he frowned, looking at the ground weakly, inwardly screaming at the unfairness of it all. But in the end, he remembered one single thing: Jacob had died without knowing it. Mordin was sacrificing himself to save a people...and that was a truly worthy death.

He sighed, annoyed at his lack of ability to find proper words. He couldn't bring himself to say goodbye, he hated those, and he didn't have the energy for a speech. In the end, he settled for nothing but what his mind could conjure, "I'm sorry."

The salarian laughed, "I'm not. Had to be me," the salarian slammed a button on the interface, and waved at Marcus one final time, the door closing around him, "Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

Marcus could only watch in pain as the elevator ascended, taking Mordin with it, to the salarian's final destination...and to his ultimately worthy fate. He managed to bring himself to salute the man, honouring him in that final moment.

In the end, Marcus realized it was over; he would never see Mordin again. But this time, he had gotten time to say goodbye, as half-assed as it was.

More metal groaned, and he was brought back to the present, turning to leave when he heard his omni-tool beep. He grabbed his helmet and threw it back on, running up the steps as he stopped, reading the contents of the message.

_To: Shepard, Marcus, Captain._

_From: Professor Solus._

_Subject: (No Entry)_

_Would have liked to run tests on the seashells._

_Addendum: Ask Mrs. Shepard about serum. Hope it worked and gave you future. Would like to know that my projects made difference._

He laughed at that, and he looked up, nodding, as he whispered, "Goodbye, Mordin." He turned and left, never looking back.

You wonderful, magnificient, brilliant piece of work.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1646 hours._

_Tomkah Krogan Armoured Personnel Carrier, Moving Along Hagalok City Ruins Western Highway, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Eve, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Marcus only watched as, in the distance, the Shroud teetered to the left, then a bit further and then finally snapped from its base, slamming into the ground with what he imagined would have been tremendous force, exploding upon impact. The once sleek salarian spire was now nothing but rubble, destroyed by the might of a thresher maw, but its final task completed.

Tuchanka's sky was alight with vibrant color, the genophage cure dispersed throughout the atmosphere and making it look like the sky was sparkling. And after a few moments, it began to rain. After they had stepped out of the Shroud, that is. Wrex, Grunt and Eve had been drenched, as well as every other krogan in their company, but this wasn't ordinary rain.

This rain was filled with cure. And upon contact with the skin, it worked wonders.

There had been cheer. Wrex had eagerly hugged Eve, Grunt had roared, and the krogan had shouted their glee to the wastelands, likely thousands more, millions, shouting back agreement and taking up the call. And Kalros, somewhere, likely answering it as she ground the rest of Vanguard into a pulp.

Marcus just felt empty. All he could think of was that Mordin was gone, and when the rest of the squad saw the salarian was not with him, they immediately knew why.

So the mood in the tomkah as it drove back to the Hollows was a dual-sided one. On one hand, everyone was happy to see the krogan cured and able to share a bright future again, but for those who knew Mordin, they also mourned over the loss of their friend.

 _No, history's merely borrowing him._ Yes, the history books would definitely remember Mordin Solus. Marcus knew he'd have to contend with Dalatrass Linron later, but for now, he didn't care. He would put on his best smile and celebrate with the rest of the krogan, secure their allegiance to the UGC, and then say goodbye to Wrex, Eve and likely Grunt, before returning to the Normandy...

...where he would then place Mordin's nameplate on the memorial wall, just as he did Jacob's, and retire to the lounge, where he would proceed to get drunk...very drunk. Drunk enough to forget.  _Two close friends...gone, in the space of two days. Why do I feel like this week isn't going to be a week of happy triumphs?_

Losing Jacob had been painful, but losing Mordin? That had been a different kind of loss. That was a worser kind. It hit far closer to home than he thought it would.

It gripped his chest in a vice, and it felt almost agonizing to breathe when he thought of the dead professor.

So the tomkah ride was silent, and everyone mourned and celebrated, in quiet tandem.

Forty minutes later, and they all stood in the Hollows, everyone surrounding a casket of crackling flames and churning ash.

Eve had suggested it, and Wrex had welcomed it. Mordin, for all intents and purposes, saved the entire krogan species from extinction and gave them hope for a new future; he deserved a proper funeral. Krogan-fashion. And so the salarian, even without a body, would be buried in the Hollows, among the other krogan heroes and ancestors.

Marcus watched with stoic clarity, Garrus by his side, and Kasumi and Liara, who now had a bandage around her arm until Chakwas could look at it.

Standing behind them were members of the Normandy crew; Cortez stood watching and respectful, Samantha next to him and Kelly next to her, who sniffled, having survived a crying fit. Adams was situated with Gabby and Ken, the latter of which soothed Gabby as she wept. Adams didn't know Mordin, but he at least kept it respectful.

Chakwas and Michel stood next to Grunt, the latter of which, for once, actually looked silent and respectful; not a single grin on his face, only a rough, grim line. Gardner stood with Keeling, arms at his side as he looked blankly at the flames.

And right on Marcus' left, was Joker, who had left the Normandy with EDI, bringing it into low orbit. The man didn't have a single sarcastic remark to make, not even a single joke to lighten the mood; he was just sober, as Marcus was.

Marcus toned out Eve's words, still thinking over the events that lead to his friend's death, and this time, he could find no fault; short of shooting him, there was no way he could have saved Mordin. The salarian had made his choice; to sacrifice his life for millions of others. It was a worthy sacrifice that completed Mordin Solus in that moment.

_And he was one year from death anyway. Why die of old age when he can die correcting a thousand year old wound?_

"In life, this salarian, Mordin Solus, faced our greatest enemy with rare valor, and destroyed it," Eve recited, "In death, he has proven to be a savior of our people. We owe him our lives, our dignity, our future. Without him, we would not have any of it.  _Liek Chek Forak Dek Wesh Ta Bek._ "

The krogan replied in tandem, all solemn, "Liek Chek Forak Dek Wesh Ta Bek."

_What, is that a krogan 'keelah se'lai,' or something? My translator didn't pick up a word of that._

Before he could ask, the ceremony ended, and everyone backed away, moving off to their own seperate things.

And a mere few minutes later, the celebration began.

Ryncol was passed around, but none of his crew, including himself, accepted any, considering they couldn't even drink it. But Wrex and Grunt practically swigged the stuff, and before he knew it, they were roaring and cheering, exchanging insults and headbutting each other until one of them couldn't take it anymore.

He saw Chakwas with Liara, cleaning up her arm wound, applying medi-gel and properly stitching it up. As for Michel, she was with Garrus, helping the turian mend his sprained ankle.

Adams was off talking engineer talk with Gabby and Ken, and Eve was wearily following Wrex and Grunt around, making sure they didn't start any fights, something Marcus found slightly amusing, even in his current state.

The lack of Wreav in the celebrations reminded him that they'd lost someone else this day, devoured by the very creature that had saved them. But Wrex didn't seem hurt by it, and Marcus couldn't bring himself to give a damn; Wreav hadn't been loved very much by anyone, and his passing didn't leave a gaping hole in his mind like Mordin's did.

"You know, I'm going to miss Mordin," came Kasumi's voice, interrupting his thoughts. He turned to the thief, who stood behind him, her hands clasped behind her back in a very un-Kasumi like gesture, "Sure, he talked alot, and sure, he likes to blurt out whatever he's thinking, but he was a nice guy. Did alot of crazy things. I didn't like that he poked me with a needle though."

He looked at her, bewildered, "He did what?"

"The day before we got here," Kasumi shrugged, "Jabbed me in the arm with a needle while I wasn't looking. Said it was for 'tests.' Wanted to know if I had turian DNA on me, and I told him to go away. He was a bit too pokey. I was going to tell ya Shep, but I thought it best not to."

"Why not?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Because it was none of your business."

He nodded, "Fair enough."

"He did the same to me, you know," came Joker's voice, and they all turned to the pilot, both curious.

"Oh yeah?" Marcus asked, crossing his arms. Despite his sour mood, he was getting some amusement from this. Maybe that was the intent. Either way, he didn't care.

The pilot nodded, then shook his head, chuckling, "It was back when we were still chasing the Collectors around, just before we recruited Jack," he scoffed, "Bastard poked me with a needle while I was sleeping. When I woke up and he asked the next day, he said it was just a blood test. But I'm convinced he injected me with something, because after that, I got bruising on my arm...where he stabbed me."

He chuckled lightly and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "Did you confront him about it?"

"I did," Joker replied, holding his hand up in air quotes, "And he quote on quote said 'blood test failed.'"

Kasumi giggled, and Marcus felt himself let out a loud chuckle at that, but it sounded really phoned in; extremely forced. Luckily, the two of them were too amused by the memory that they didn't seem to notice.

"Mordin helped me in many ways," Marcus added, crossing his arms, "He...well he...after the Collectors and the Shadow Broker's ambush, Mordin confronted me in the med bay. He said...he said he could offer me and Tali something we couldn't have naturally. A way to make it happen."

Joker and Kasumi were very focused now, leaning in, "What was it?" Marcus could tell Joker was genuinely curious, but he had a feeling Kasumi had already figured it out, due to the glint in her eyes.

He sighed heavily, "He offered us a chance to have children. Of our own blood."

Kasumi squealed like a girl, and Joker laughed, "Gee, Mordin sure knows how to give it to people. A serum for you guys to have kids? Did he actually finish it?"

"He...he did. Gave it to Tali and me, and we consumed it like a couple of high-school kids on alcohol," he laughed at the memory of how whoozy Tali had felt after drinking it. Then he sobered, "But I don't actually know if it worked. If I managed to get Tali pregnant. Or if I want her to be."

Joker frowned, "What? Why wouldn't you?"

He glared at the pilot, lips set in a firm line, "Why? Why the hell would I want to bring up a kid in the middle of a war? Correction,  _How_ can I? I have an entire war to plan and lead and fight, and to bring up a kid in that? No, children don't deserve to be born only to find their world to be burning and blinking out."

"And what if it did work?" Kasumi asked, causing him to turn to her, "What if Tali did get pregnant?"

He gulped, shrugging, "I...I don't know."

"To Mordin," Garrus offered, all three turning to see that he had been standing behind them, listening, the entire time, "And all the magnificient things he's done. May the spirits watch over him."

Kasumi and Joker nodded, holding up their non-existent drinks, "To Mordin."

Marcus nodded, "To Mordin."

And the silence returned to the conversation; the only sound being the celebration around them.

"Captain."

He turned at the sound of the voice, finding Eve standing at the other side of the Hollows, with Wrex at her side, finally detached from Grunt who, he noticed, was now getting drunk with one of his commandos, both of them chanting krogan battle songs his translator, once again, couldn't pick up.

He nodded, saying goodbye to the others as he began to move over to where the two krogan stood. Eve he noticed was standing slightly closer to Wrex than usual, a fact the battlemaster seemed to be okay with. He smiled, this one actually reaching his eyes and filling him with warmth.  _I can definitely trust these two to begin a better tomorrow for Tuchanka and the krogan people._

He quickly reached them, finding himself standing before them with a polite nod, "Wrex, Eve."

There was silence for a moment, and Wrex finally broke it with a large exhale of breath, "I still can't believe it. This is it; this is really it. The end of the genophage."

"We shouldn't think of the end," Eve corrected, "We should think of the beginning."

Wrex nodded, turning back to Marcus, "Remember the story about my father? Urdnot Jarrod?"

Marcus nodded, "Vaguely. It was a long time ago."

The krogan sighed, turning to the central platform that stood above them, "Right there...that's where I rammed my knife through his heart. He lured me here as a trap, offering peace in one hand, death in another. I refused to help him spread his crap, so he and his men leapt from the graves of our ancestors, killed my men, and would have killed me," he laughed, turning back to him with a bitter smile, "So I killed him, in this very spot.  _That's_ what the genophage reduced us to. Kinslayers. I killed my own father."

"But now the genophage is over, and a new beginning for us begins, all thanks to you, Captain," Eve thanked.

He shook his head, "No, no thanks to me. Don't even dare try to thank me. This was Mordin; all of it. I gave him the nudge, he took the plunge. He developed the cure, he chose to care, and he chose to cure your people. The thanks lies with him."

Eve merely smiled at him, "And my people shall forever remember his sacrifice and what he did for us. He will be noted in the books of krogan history, how he allowed us to turn from animal, back to glory. But you helped. Had you not given that nudge...I doubt we would be standing here today. I doubt I would be standing here today; I would still be locked up in that STG facility, still under the scrutiny of salarian scientists. My people will remember the man who saved us, and the man who convinced him to do so. As Wrex said, you're name will forever mean 'hero' in our language."

"It was the heat of the moment," Wrex nervously replied, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture he had never seen the krogan do before, "I never actually meant it. That would be ridiculous."

"Would it?" Eve replied, looking at Marcus with a musing gaze. When she was done, she shook her head, "No, the name of a hero deserves to be remembered. No, Shepard will be the name of a hero, and Mordin the name of our firstborn."

Wrex frowned, "You want to name our first child 'Mordin?'"

"Yes. It will show the galaxy that we respect those who respect us and make efforts to help us. And show the respect we have for him," Eve elaborated, patting Wrex on his back, "Don't worry, you get to choose the name of our second."

"Already have," he grinned, turning to Marcus, "Shepard."

He looked at Wrex for a moment, analyzing if he was serious or not. Seeing that he was, he shook his head, "No, Wrex. No. No no no no-"

"Isn't your choice. Its mine. My child-"

" _Our_ child."

" _Our_ child to name," Wrex corrected, rolling his eyes, "But if it makes you feel better, I was hoping to name one of our girls; if we do have one, Tali."

He raised an eyebrow, "Got a thing for your niece, Wrex?"

"I like the quarian you keep around," Wrex grinned.

His grin lessened, "I'll be sure to...find her, so you can say hello."

Wrex nodded, understanding his solemn tone, "You'll find her, I'm sure of it. Wars happen to bring people together, heh?"

He chuckled, "They certainly do."

"And now, we offer our thanks. And our utter devotion," Eve hinted and Wrex, getting the point, nodded, turning and holding out a hand to Marcus.

"I made a promise on behalf of the krogan, and I intend to keep it," Marcus nodded, taking Wrex's hand and shaking it in a steel grip, "Tell the Primarch that I'll have krogan troops shipped to Palaven as fast as I can send them. I'll also redeploy Aralakh Company and a large amount of our finest armoured divisions to the Citadel and hand them over to Hackett's command. And consider this, as leader of the United Krogan Clans, my official declaration of allegiance to the United Galactic Confederacy. May we show the Reapers no mercy."

"Thank you Wrex. I will pass it on to Hackett so the Council doesn't panic and think they're being invaded," this got a chuckle out of Wrex, and he laughed too, this one more genuine, "And I'll inform Victus. This is going to be a huge game changer Wrex, just you wait and see."

"I can see it perfectly well. We already killed Vanguard; showed the galaxy that Reapers can die," and with that, Wrex's sadisitic smirk returned, "And with any luck, the fury of Tuchanka will be returning. She has a temper, and Kalros is it."

"If only we could clone more Kalros'. We'd win this war in no time," he jested, sighing as he looked to Eve, "I've enjoyed the festivities, but me and my crew must be gone soon. There's still much to be done and many more to recruit; I'm sorry to say, but curing the genophage and gaining your support was only the tip of the iceberg."  _We fight or we die._

Wrex quickly nodded, bringing Marcus in for another brotherly hug, "I shall pass your goodbye onto Grunt; he'll be staying here, he's told me. Says he wants to continue leading Aralakh. But with them heading to the Citadel, I'm sure you two will be seeing each other sometime soon. Can't say the same for me. I'll be staying here, playing politician," he pulled back, slapping Marcus on the back. He turned Eve at that, a cheeky grin on his crocidilian face, "And I do believe its breeding season."

"Behave yourself, Wrex," Eve warned, moving in to give Marcus a much gentler hug, one that wasn't quite as back breaking, "I enjoyed meeting you Marcus Shepard, and I am glad to find you to be an honorable man. I do hope you find your mate, and may she give you strength in the trials ahead. You have many."

He nodded, thanking her with a meek smile, "Thank you, Eve."

She stopped at that, and she looked to be analyzing him for a moment. Then, like a moment shattered, she spoke, hesitant, "Captain, remember how I told you that, as a Shaman, I had to give up my old name and become anonymous?"

He nodded slowly, wondering where she was going with this, "Yes, you did. You also said you'd tell me someday." Was today that day?

Apparently he was right, "Then know this, Marcus Shepard. Know that  _Urdnot Bakara_ calls you a friend, and will answer your call whenever you need help."

He smiled, giving her a slighter nod, finding himself a bit repeititive in these motions, having a lack of anything to say, "Thank you,  _Bakara._ I will remember that."

"Goodbye Shepard," Wrex salutated, "And may you win many battles."

Marcus merely nodded, turning away as he headed for the rest of the group, to get them ready to go.

They had many battles ahead indeed.

**"And the worst times lay directly ahead. Curing the genophage really was just the tip of the iceberg."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"You changed history majorly when you did that, Shepard. The Krogan Military Confederacy prospers well under the Dominion thanks to you."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Wrex still in charge?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"And Bakara, yes. We still stay in touch, too."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"That's good. That's...very good...what about Grunt?"**

**"A Battlelord now. Commands the formidable Solus Mobilized Infantry Division."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"We can catch up on recent history later. After leaving Tuchanka, what did you do?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"We headed back to the Citadel as per usual. Little did we know we'd arrive to break a siege."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You thought I'd kill Mordin that way, didn't you? I am a horrible person, but nearly that despicable. Whoever made that renegade option is going to the deepest pits of hell...** _

_**And you know what's up next: Priority: The Citadel II. But before that, two interim chapters, first of which will feature Tali once more, but in a far more...riveting setting. Interpret that as you will. Heh. heh. heh.** _

_**And I haven't forgotten about the nightmare sequences. Shepard will have them, but I've going to take my own edge with them. Again, interpret at will.** _

_**Might not be for a while, though. School work is quickly piling up, and I do have a life to lead!** _

_**Note: Also, I had been about to publish this as a whole (as part two and three were originally one part), but saw the word count was 20,000 and said to myself 'not going down that road again!' So I decided to split it. So I apologize if two parts are uploaded simultaneously.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	30. Various Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard mourns Mordin's death, while the krogan honor it. Forces of the Migrant Fleet, led by Tali, attack the geth fleet over Haestrom as the Second Morning War begins. Leng receives an upgrade. The geth seek help, and find it in their ultimate enemy.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

**VARIOUS DIFFERENCES**

_Darkness._

_Whispers on the wind._

_A growl. A screech of anger._

_More whispers. They were more furious this time, more persistent. Desperate to invade his thoughts and fill it with false ideology and negative tidings._

_The familiar sound of an airhorn tore through the darkness, and a crimson flash blinded him temporarily, and then all vision returned, the darkness split apart._

_The first thing he noticed was that it was cold. When he looked up, he saw that he was back on Noveria, kneeling against the metal surface of the main dock of Port Hanshan. Blood ran between his legs, although he didn't know if it was his own, or some dead enemy. He wasn't wearing his armor, and had numerous scratches and cuts all over his body, and he felt blood dripping into his eye...definitely his blood._

_"Hey Shepard..."_

_He spun, the movement leaving him whoozy, but when his vision cleared, he easily recognized the person standing before him. Coffee brown skin, cool, calm eyes and muscular arms and legs, and short, close to bald, black hair that mixed in well against his skin._

_"Jacob," he muttered back, his voice feeling more forced; involuntarily weak and dry and rugged. His throat felt like it was on fire, and he tasted copper in his mouth._

_"...funny seeing you here," Jacob stated, a small smile on his face, "I thought you were a survivor."_

_"I'm not dead," he mumbled, his voice feeling croaky and raspy, "At least...I don't think I am."_

_"Oh, don't worry, you're alive. Whatever passes for life, in your case," Jacob sneered, moving over until he stood infront of him, crouching down so they were at eye level, "This? You're a shell, Shepard. Tell me, how's Brynn doing? Is she alive? Or is she dead too because of your incompetence?"_

_"I...she's not dead...she's alive," he wheezed, meeting the man's eyes, "I...didn't see him coming..."_

_"Who? Leng?" Jacob shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "Of course you didn't; you let your guard down, as you always do and he got the jump on me. Just imagine if you had been paying attention...or better still, had killed Leng before. Maybe I'd be with Brynn, a happy father."_

_"And maybe I'd be with Kaidan," came another, much younger but clear voice, Marcus turning to see Ashley leaning against a steel support pillar, arms crossed, "Maybe we'd be happy together. We'd probably be married, just like you and Tali. I wouldn't be a nuclear crater; I'd be a perfectly happy young wife."_

_He tried to stand, but found he lacked the strength to do so, and he remained crouched, feeling dizzy as more and more blood dripped from his numerous wounds, but he made no movement to clog them. Almost like his body_ _**wanted** _ _death._

_"Gunnery Chief Williams has a point," Jacob added, examining his face like a cold, calculating machine, "We'd both be happy spouses, and possibly parents. Instead your weakness killed us. You left Williams to die, and you were too idiotic to save me."_

_"That's not true," he groaned, "Please, Jacob. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry-"_

_"SORRY DIDN'T HELP BRYNN, DID IT!?" the dead man roared in his face, so close to him that he could smell his unnaturally rancid breath, "Apologies can't save you, Shepard. You're just a pitiful shell."_

_"Death isn't all that bad," Ashley observed. Then she looked at him, sneering, "Maybe you'd like to join us."_

_"I don't...I can't...the war..." he tried to mutter back._

_"You can convince yourself its the war, but we're your inner demons. We know what's really going on," Ashley uncrossed her arms and moved over to him, crouching down and looking into his eyes with no pity or sympathy whatsoever, "Its because of_ _**her** _ _."_

_"I love...her..." he moaned, not refuting her claim, "I must...find her..."_

_**"Your attempts are futile,"** _ _Marcus spun in horror, watching Ashley's eyes glow a vibrant orange,_ _**"You and the quarian will die in vain as your galaxy is consumed by our might. SUBMIT! SERVE US!"** _

_**"Know a better future!"** _

_Jacob smiled, "Its the only way you'll know peace, Shepard. The only way. Just throw yourself out an airlock, and its all over."_

_"I will not...submit...I will continue...to fight...you..." Marcus growled, trying to stand, but feeling an invisible force push against him, like a hand pushing him down, "I will triumph. Victory at any cost."_

_**"You cannot shut us out forever! You will know our serenity!"** _

_"Victory at any cost. I will fight or die."_

_**"You are a-"** _

_"Victory at any cost. I will fight or die."_

_**"Then you will know pain."** _

_Jacob shook his head empathetically, "Idiot."_

_"Victory at any cost. I will fight or die. Victory at any cost. I will fight or die."_

_Suddenly, the chill was gone, Hanshan was gone, everything was gone. Marcus dared himself to look up, and he did._

_He was back on Tuchanka. In the Shroud's atrium._

_He looked up and saw that he was now standing, SMG raised and pointed directly at Mordin's body. The salarian was saying something, but he could not hear the words. His mind could not conjure them. Or simply ignored them._

_"You were going to do it, weren't you?" He turned to see Tarquin standing and leaning over a console, turian eyes regarding him with cold stature, "You were going to pull that trigger. To end his life. Just for the Salarian Union."_

_**"FOOLISH DESPERATION,"** _ _he whorled and saw Kenson standing right beside him, eyes ablaze with Harbinger's taint,_ _**"THIS IS THE MEASURE OF YOUR FAILURE!"** _

_He saw Mordin turn to head for the elevator, an angry and spiteful look on his face. He never looked like that..._

_He felt his finger tighten against his will, and he wanted to cry out as the SMG coughed, muzzle flashing momentarily as the shot pierced Mordin's shoulder and erupted out the other side, spraying green blood along the elevator glass and sending Mordin tumbling onto the ground, coughing up his own blood. Marcus stared in horror...no, he stared blankly, coldly regarding the dying man before him._

_He wanted to feel horror, but he felt none. Only carelessness. Ice filled his mind._

_The salarian rolled onto his back, meeting Marcus' eyes with a look of betrayal, "Shepard..." Green essence bubbled from his lips, and Marcus' SMG barked again, drilling a hole straight through his head, body crumbling to the ground, staining his white labcoat._

_And again, the Shroud disappeared, taking Mordin's dead body, Kenson and Tarquin with it._

_He was in the Hollows, a dusty breeze beginning to build, chilling Marcus to the bone despite Aralakh's harsh sunlight._

_He looked down, and almost jumped back in fright. Around him in their own pools of orange were the dead bodies of numerous krogan, all soaked in their own blood or missing certain limbs. He heard dust crumble and crack, and when he spun around and looked up, his eyes widened in shock and horror._

_Karlos' loomed over him, buried under half of the Hollows and body still, clearly dead. Its maw was closed, legs untwitching, its usual roar absent. The mighty protector of Tuchanka was no more._

_He could hear banging, distant but increasing. It was incessant, but the least of his worries, as he could hear choked grunting; someone was alive. He traced the source to be on the central platform, and when he scaled it, he didn't like what he found._

_He saw Bakara first, her body face down on the ground, arm outstretched, dried orange blood pooled around her. Despite not being able to see her gaze, he knew from looking at her that she was dead._

_Grunt lay nearby, body lying against a piece of concrete, eyes open but blank, one of his arms missing and claymore sitting in his lap, a spent thermal clip inbetween his legs. Half of his lower jaw was missing, and bits of flesh stuck to the front of his armor, blood crusted around his cheeks and groin._

_Finally, his eyes landed on Wrex. He lay hovering over Bakara, but unlike everyone else, he was alive. He lay next to Bakara, coughing up blood onto the ground, numerous bullet wounds, large by what he saw, riddling his back, scoring his armor and leaving bits of it shredded. A large river of dried blood coated the ground behind him, meaning he had clearly crawled over here._

_He must have heard Marcus' approach, because he slowly turned, blood bubbling from his mouth. His eyes set in a firm line then, raising a finger to point accusingly at him, "You did this...you_ _**betrayed** _ _us...I trusted you...as a brother..."_

_"I didn't-"_

_"Well isn't this just priceless."_

_Marcus' face sunk, the N7 whorling to find a familiar human marine, fully dressed in battle armor and overlooking Wrex's pitiful body, the krogan not seeming to see him, his smoking rifle laying limply at his side._

_"I..." he stumbled for words, but when he could find none, he just went for the closest name he could, "Sarann?"_

_"He remembers," he kicked Wrex's form, the krogan taking no notice, "He remembers! How honoured I truly am. You know," the marine spat on the ground, the spit coming out bright orange. The color of krogan blood, "When I said I wanted ice cream, I didn't really have this in mind."_

_"You're dead," Marcus muttered, shaking his head, "You died on Torfan."_

_"How about m-me?" came a voice he thought he'd never hear again, "Care to remind me where I died?"_

_"Roshia?"_

_"Last I checked, you remember my name."_

_Sarann chuckled, slapping her on the back, "Gee girl, I haven't seen you for a while. Being dead is very boring, why didn't you visit me? Shepard only just arrived! Just need to wait for Nathan now."_

_"Shepard, you little shithead," came Nathan Montgomery's familiar voice from behind him, his stained light armor and spent sniper rifle lying against his shoulder, "I was wondering when you'd join us in the land of the dead."_

_"Like a family reunion!" Sarann cheered._

_"Sure wish you hadn't left me to die, Shepard," Roshia grumbled, "This would be alot more fun."_

_"How the fuck do you think me and Nathan feel?" Sarann snorted, "He lead us in a suicidal charge against a well fortified batarian position. No wonder we got cut down. Glad it was that though; don't know how I'd feel about being eaten by thresher maws. Nasty stuff."_

_"Traitor," Wrex growled, bringing all attention on him, "You...betrayed us..."_

_"Uh, Rexy," Sarann chuckled, "Rhymes with sexy. Ah. Not exactly getting that vibe, actually."_

_"I didn't," Marcus ignored them, addressing Wrex's injured, accusing form, "I was going to, but Mordin talked me out of it. I didn't do it!"_

_"Jeez, you still talk shit," Nathan muttered, "Do you ever learn to stop?"_

_"Get out of my head!" Marcus roared, "You're ALL DEAD! GO AWAY!"_

_"Is that how you talk to friends?" Roshia asked accusingly, "No wonder you lost us so quickly. I'm almost ashamed for having dated you."_

_"Go away!" Marcus roared. Suddenly, the ground shook, one final bang reverbrating the ground._

_Then a loud airhorn._

_Marcus could only watch in horror as a crimson red beam sliced through Kalros and disintegrated Wrex, Roshia and Sarann right before his eyes, then sliding across to remove Nathan from existence. When it was done, he could only look up and into the eye of Vanguard, the Reaper blaring at him._

_**"Your punishment for your failure is your own doing,"** _ _Vanguard declared,_ _**"You created this future for yourself."** _

_"LIES!" Marcus roared, "YOU LIE! LEAVE ME_ _**ALONE!** _ _"_

_And then the Hollows was gone._

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1759 hours._

_Port Observation, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

The world returned to Marcus in an instant.

He slowly peeled his eyes open, feeling that if he did it too fast, he would probably bring more hurt to himself than comfort. He immediately noticed how groggy he felt, and that his head was tilted sideways, his right cheek firmly planted against the table's surface. He must have fallen asleep here; and he easily noticed just how uncomfortable sleeping here would have been. His entire face ached, and his back was in extreme discomfort.

However, any thought of getting up immediately stopped when he had to let out a groan, a massive pressure threatening to crack his head open like an egg if he moved another muscle. Content to follow his mind's threats, he stayed put, and did not budge his head any further.

Funny thing was, he didn't know where he was, how he got here, and most certainly why he was here. The room was brightly lit, but the steel bulkheads were a much deeper shade of grey, indicating he definitely was not in his cabin.

Deciding he had no choice but to suffer through his likely self-imposed agony, he shifted his head so that his chin rested on the surface, not his warm cheek. Just the movement alone caused the pressure in his head to almost reach breaking point, and his vision blurred for a moment before settling.

He could tell where he was now, just by looking at the soft, green surface of the poker table. Taking a quick glance, he could see that it was not unoccupied as it usually was; an assortment of poker cards lined its surface, along with numerous chips thrown in the middle haphazardly, and some somehow making it to the floor. He wasn't going to ask about that. He decided he didn't want to know.

But there was a more prominent identity to the table; the assortment of bottles littering its surface. From levo to dextro beverages, spirits to beer of all things, even a few bottles of turian whiskey and ale occupying the edge. From his count, there had to be at least 21 seperate beer bottles, and five spirits.  _Fuck. How many did I consume?_

The pounding in his head was the answer, throbbing a little bit more painfully to accentuate its point.

He was about to ask himself just why dextro bottles were lying there, when he noticed the turian slouched over the table, arms outstretched and head buried inbetween them. The turian snored soundly, the sound almost comical, coming from a turian such as himself, and he heard him mumble in his sleep before shifting to a more comfortable position and continuing his slumber. Marcus also elected not to wake him up.

If Garrus was as hammered as he was, he'd probably appreciate it.

Confirming he was in the Port Observation, also known as the ship's lounge and Kasumi's domain in many cases, he decided to ask himself the most important question; why the hell was he here? It was clear he had come here to get drunk. How that involved poker was anyone's guess.

He had come here to forget something, and it must have worked wonders, because he couldn't remember a single fucking thing aside from that his name was Markus...no, Mark...No, Johnny...nope, way off...Shepherd? No, that didn't sound right either. Or was his name...Shepard! That's right! And...Mar...Marcus!"

 _Holy fucking shit._ He groaned.  _I'm off the damn rails. I needed to take a few seconds to remember my own damn_ _ **name.**_ _Congratulations, mission success Marcus. I hope you didn't forget how to excrete bodily wastes, because if you did, then we're back to square one._

"And so Captain Sparkles returns to the land of the living," came a usually cheery voice, but now was laced with feminine irritation. He noted that the voice came from behind him, but was far away enough for the person to be against a wall, "And he looks like crap. Jeez Shep, you've done a number on yourself. How's the hangover?"

He only moaned.

"Serves you right. Getting drunk like that! You consumed most of my stores!" Suddenly Kasumi appeared, planting her buttocks firmly down ontop of the table, frowning at him as she crossed her arms, "Do you have any idea how many damn drinks you drank? You shot past alcoholism street, straight over alcohol poisioning bridge, and straight into the ocean of supposed-to-be-dead-at-this-point and came out for a breather. I know you like to boast about how you achieve the impossible, but seriously Shep, don't do that. That's scary."

"Glad...you...care," he gulped, "What...time is it?"

"Just hit 6 o'clock. Oh, sorry, 1800 hours," she rolled her eyes, still glaring at him before shifting her gaze to their turian company, "Think I should wake him up? Just for a laugh?"

He glared at her. She held her hands up defensively, "Just for fun! Come on, you know you want to, for all the crap he gives you. Sarcastic remarks, flippant retorts...let's just have some fun with him!"

"He's probably in agony," Marcus replied.

"Then he shouldn't have gotten drunk. He didn't have a reason to, you did. NOT that I'm justifying what you did!" she got off the table and hurried over to Garrus' side, tiptoeing as if afraid the turian would wake if she wasn't quiet.

"I got to drunk to forget something," he looked at her through weary eyes, just wanting to fall asleep and forget his pain, "What did I want to forget? It can't be too bad, can it?"

Kasumi stopped for a moment, mischief gone from her eyes as she turned to him, slightly shaking her head, "Shep, the pain of whatever you wanted to forget was far more painful than your hangover right now. But if you want to know..."

He nodded, "I do."

She sighed, bracing against the table, and he could see her fighting back a sob, "Mordin...Mordin's dead. He died curing the genophage. You put his name on the memorial wall and then you came here and got drunk. I tried to stop you, but you, and I quote on quote, said 'fuck off.' Rather harshly too. I didn't want to piss you off, so I let it go."

He scoffed, eyes darkening as the memories flooded back. "Good call." He went still in that moment, not a sound to be heard. He looked blankly at the table as images of Mordin flashed by, moments of clarity, moments of angst, moments of...his death. He remembered them all. In vivid detail.

Moments passed, and he simply didn't move a muscle. The throbbing in his head almost went away, but a new pain entered his mind in its place: sorrow, melancholy, hopelessness. All Marcus could think about is how another friend was dead. Jacob, and now Mordin. Who was next? Why did such good people get to die but the bad ones always live?

Suddenly, Samantha's voice called over the intercom, "Captain, Dalatrass Linron is trying to contact you via the QEC."

He grumbled, "Tell her...to get fucked."  _I am not in the mood for diplomacy._ He knew full well that now that he had let the genophage cured, he had now lost the full support of the Salarian Union and possibly the Asari Republics. No salarian engineers would help build the Crucible, no fresh fleets or armies, just nothing.

Then he remembered Kirrahe's words on Sur'Kesh, and he smiled alittle.  _Maybe not all of them._

"Yes sir," came Samantha's response, and then the line was cut.

"Shep," came Kasumi's voice, and he shifted his look to face her, "You can't internalize this. Jacob's death almost drove you insane; the whole crew  _saw it._ Don't let Mordin's sacrifice carry you off the edge. And before you start, there is  _nothing_ you could have done to save him."

 _Well, aside from shooting him, no, there really wasn't._ He turned away from her, blankly at the poker top once more. After a second, he cleared his throat and nodded, ignoring the flashes of agony that barrelled through his head as he did, "I know that, Kasumi. It just...haunts me, that all. Losing friends..."  _...merely let history borrow me._

"...sucks, I know," Kasumi gulped, leaning over the table surface, "I lost Keiji remember? But you know how I moved on? I met you guys. You guys kept me alive. And as annoying as this turian is," she poked the turian's shoulder, who groaned in his sleep, "I wouldn't be able to..." she cut herself off and shook her head, turning back to Marcus, "But who cares. What matters is that you should do the same. You're surrounded by friends, Shep. You don't have internalize your feelings. You're allowed to be human, you know."

He nodded, and then nodded again in double reassurance, "I just want to forget, Kasumi. I want to forget all of it."

"Forgetting that Mordin died won't save you from the pain," Kasumi stated, cocking her head at him sympathetically, and he thought he saw a tear travel down her cheek before she took in a huge exhale, wiping it from her face, "It just...delays it. To move on from it, you've got to allow yourself to feel the pain, Shep. Just  _feel_."

He sighed and sniffled, wiping his nose as he felt raw emotions begin to build up, as if taking flight to Kasumi's suggestion. But then he reined them in, knowing he could not do it here, not where his crew could see him.  _They don't need to see their broken captain for what he is: broken._

Yes, Marcus was broken in so many ways. So many different ways. He was broken morally...

_Cure the genophage, or sabotage it?_

He was broken emotionally...

_...not where his crew could see him..._

He was broken socially...

_I miss you so much, Tali. So fucking much._

...and he was broken mentally.

_**Serve us.** _

A whisper on the back of his head, and he ignored it, but this time, it hadn't been Vanguard's voice; it had been Harbinger's. What was wrong with him? Why was he hearing these voices?

He had a gut feeling. It filled him with dread and fear, but he had a gut feeling. And if it got any worse, then the crew was in-

NO. No. Away with those thoughts. They do not help.

He looked at Garrus, looking for an excuse to get both Garrus and Kasumi out of the room. He gulped, and nodded, "You'd better wake up Garrus and get him to the toilets; he's going to need a cleanup."

She sighed, nodding, believing her point defeated. She moved over and grabbed Garrus' shoulder, roughly shaking it, and bringing the turian back to the land of the living. After a few muttered complaints and unintelligible turian curses, the turian stumbled to his feet, almost tripping over the damn  _chair_ he had been  _sitting in,_ and with one arm over his shoulders, Kasumi guided him to the door, and outside.

Soon, the door closed, and he was alone.

He sat there, completely lost in his thoughts. And in one moment, it all came out; the losses, the deaths, the defeats, the burdens, everything...he sobbed, then he wept, and he finally cried, dry heaving as hot tears spat from his eyes and made rivers down his cheeks, flashing onto the table. He buried his face into its surface, letting all the emotions flood out.

Marcus Shepard was broken.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1803 hours._

_Male Restroom, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

"Come on, stand up, you fat turian," she quipped, wincing as his side poked into hers, "I can't do all the carrying. Are you listening to me?" Remembering the turian's drunken state, she elected that he wasn't, "Why do I even bother?"

The turian just moaned, and they continued their short, but clumsy, walk towards the men's restroom, which just  _had_ to be on the other side of the deck. Two crewmen were eagerly chatting away as they headed for the elevator, a cup of coffee in one hand while the other was munching on a custom made sandwich of what looked to be soggy tomatoes and what barely could be called meat.

When they saw Kasumi, the turian draped at her side and head lolling to the side as he stumbled, they stopped for a moment, met her eyes, and then shrugged, continuing into the elevator and hitting the button for whatever deck they wanted access to, door slowly closing behind them.

"Ka...sumi..." Garrus muttered, holding his head with the opposite hand, keeping his eyes closed out of fear that any light could provoke his migraine further, "I think...I'm going to...puke..."

Kasumi widened her eyes, quickly rushing over to the toilets, "Not over my hood you're not."

She tapped the interface, but it simply screeched at her as she looked up to see the red interface, remembering that it only recognized taps from male members of the crew due to the software programming it. She rolled her eyes and grabbed Garrus' left hand, thrusting it to the interface and watching it flash green and open.

They were inside almost immediately, Kasumi barely taking anytime to examine the surroundings. The restrooms weren't all that big in the size department, only needing basic necessities and because it was a warship, it didn't need anything sophisticated. Both the female and male restrooms were basically the same, but the male one, she noticed, was slightly bigger.

The walls were tiles, as was the floor. Along the walls were basins where men could piss, and on the right was a long line of normal toilets, unlike the female restroom, where no basins existed and the toilets were where they were now. Hand basins lingered at the back as opposed to the female restroom (the sinks were where the toilets are) and behind them were a bare minimum of two shower cubicles, meaning only two crew members could wash at a given time. But given the bunking schedule, that wasn't an issue according to Alliance regs.

But it was an issue for the naked form of Kenneth Donnelly, who silently hummed to himself a scottish tune as he scrubbed away at himself, only turning around at the sound of the door opening.

His eyes widened and he leapt back as he saw Kasumi, immediately using whatever he was scrubbing himself with to cover his groin and back up against the wall, cursing in his scottish tongue, "Kasumi Goto! Do you-do you  _ken_  what restroom this is!?" The engineer's cheeks flushed bright red in embarassment, looking like he wanted to shrink into a corner.

Kasumi simply let Garrus go as he crawled over to a toilet and rammed his head in, the sound of the turian vomitting easily being heard in the room as it came out in, likely, a thick stream. She shrugged, raising an eyebrow at the man, "You've got nothing I haven't already seen before, Donnelly. So quit your whining and just get back to washing. And don't worry, I won't tell Gabby."

He frowned, "Gabby? Why would I be worried-?"

"Because you two are a couple?" Ken seemed to flush even deeper when he heard the words leave Kasumi's mouth, and Garrus only turned to look at Ken in shock, bits of red vomit crusting around his mandibles and dripping from his teeth as he coughed, but quickly found himself returning to his session of rejecting stomach fluids.

Kasumi, surprised, grinned, "Ah...so noone knows but me?" she quickly rolled her eyes, "Why is it I'm the only one not dense? Am I the only one who picks up on these relationships?"

"You're the only one who pays attention," Garrus mumbled.

Kasumi gave him a slight kick to the foot, grunting, "You just keep vomitting, Garbear."

"Go to hell."

"In all good time," Kasumi grinned, turning back to Ken, hands on her hips, "Now, about you and Gabby..."

"Girl! I'm trying to shower and you're just...standing there!" Ken replied in his scottish accent, "I'm just a wee bit annoyed!"

"And I'm just a wee bit curious!" Kasumi replied, ignoring his misgivings about the situation and clapped her hands together, "So! Gabby! You tell! Now!"

They suddenly heard the door open, and someone stride in, "Donnelly, I swear if you're not done in the next-" the voice stopped, and Kasumi turned to see Adams standing at the edge of the door, towel over his shoulder and wearing raggy clothes that was coated in grime, grease and numerous other things the thief didn't find very attractive.

"What the hell?" Adams exclaimed, frowning at her.

"Just waiting for Garbear to get over his little hangover," Kasumi replied, turning back to kick the turian again, this time a bit harder, "Come on, you wuss! It doesn't take that long!"

More vomitting sounds, "I drank more than I should have. I should be dead."

"Well, aren't you special," Kasumi dryly declared, clapping sarcastically, "I'm sure Shep will give ya a medal."

"You try drinking five bottles of turian whiskey and tell me how you feel," more vomitting, "I think I'm almost done."

"Good, because if Ken flushes any deeper shades of red, he'll turn into a lobster," she winked at the engineer, grinning mischeviously, "And lobsters are very bad engineers, from what I can tell."

"The crew compliment gets more insane each passing day," Adams grumbled as he left, door closing behind him. Kasumi merely poked her tongue out at the closed door, and she thought she saw Ken choking back a laugh, and she turned back, winking at him again before kneeling down next to Garrus to check on him.

The stench made her immediately regret that course of action.

She almost jumped back from it, ruffling her hood so she could cover her nose, squinting as she flew onto the ground, crawling away.

She cursed a few choice japanese curses before coming to stand.

Garrus turned to her, wiping what was left of the vomit on his mandibles on his arm before planting his ass firmly on the ground, spinning to face her, a silly grin on his face, "Like the smell?"

"Adore it," she deadpanned, her nose still covered by the black cloth of her hood, "You need to flush that and clean yourself up, dino."

The turian burped, holding his head, "Yeah...certainly do."

"Well come on," she insisted, motioning her head to the door, "Flush it and let's go. That stench reeks enough to kill a husk."

Even Ken had given up on a shower and hurriedly dried himself, hair still damp as he dressed and evacuated the restroom, unable to bear the smell any longer.

The turian looked dejected as he moved a hand up and tapped the interface, watching as water pulsed from the top of the basin to purify and send away the reddened water. Turian vomit was an odd thing; she heard that during the First Contact War, the Alliance had filed propaganda stating that the turians ate people and people had laughed it off as a joke; just propaganda. But even as she looked at the red vomit, what if they had genuinely thought that and had confused turian vomit for human blood?

Those pleasant thoughts left her mind as soon as he stepped out of the restroom, Garrus in tow. He slurred, grinning slightly as his drunken state lingered, "You know... _Kazumi..._ I could do with a...little... _kiss_..."

She grimaced, turning away, "The most you'll get from me is a glare of disdain. I'm not kissing those vomit lips. I don't want to get sick or something," she turned to him, a slight glitch in her step, "Besides...I don't think we're on that level of a relationship yet. We're still friends, as far as I'm concerned."

He turned to her, frowning, although because of how half-assed it was, it came out like a lopsided grin, "Have you...forgotten..." he hiccuped, "...the wedding? Practi-cally  _pounced_ on me..."

She did remember the wedding, and she did remember how he had called her beautiful, and how she had pounced on him, her lips locked with his, feeling his scaly mandibles pressed against her plump lips, losing herself in him. She had closed her eyes, feeling her tongue scrape against his teeth as she fought for supremacy over him. They shifted and moved, Kasumi feeling the heat of it build as she-

She was pulled back from her lingering thoughts by herself, no less. Those were memories she wasn't going to delve into, because they signified a time of confusion; when her feelings were confused, when she didn't know if she wanted to be with Garrus or not...

She did not show her concern or nostalgia in her response, remaining as cheery as ever, "Remember what I said in the gunnery station, too? I was just using you for your body."

"I do...recall... _that_ ," he grinned, chuckling, "So sexy..."

Kasumi ignored that off-handed comment, quickly scanning the mess hall to make sure noone heard that before grabbing him and moving him over to the gunnery station.  _He's drunk, he has no idea what's he's saying._ Despite herself, she felt her cheeks blush a deep red.  _Damn it, that's not how Kasumi Goto works! I make people blush, not the other way 'round!_

Look, maybe there was hope between the two.

But if she had anything to say about it, that would remain a pipe dream. Last thing she needed was a relationship with someone who might be dead.

She wouldn't suffer another Keiji Okuda.

**{Loading...}**

_July 2, 2186_

_2219 hours._

_Main Bridge, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Flotilla Heavy Fleet, Coming Into Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War, Battle of Haestrom._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina, Commander Igra'Trasp vas Machina, Quartermaster Gunner Sama'Raan vas Machina._

The Dholen Relay lit up in a brilliant display, blue energy crackling and bursting until eventually its designated user came through. And it wasn't the usual geth patrol.

Shooting through was a ship of alliance design, worn down but still of use. The Wyoming-Class Destroyer, a formidable vessel in its own right, glided through and corrected its course, turning towards the most important planet in the system: Haestrom. Once home to a major quarian naval shipyard, Haestrom was now ruled purely by the geth ever since the quarian exodus. But now its people had come to take it back.

The Machina was not the only ship coming. Soon, five ships shot through the relay, then sixteen, then twenty-six, then eighteen more.

Soon, a total of five hundred and ten ready and primed warships acertained a strong battle formation, ships moving into position in a well coordinated and prepared strike. Frigates and destroyers took up the front, cruisers up the back, and a reclaimed carrier took up the rear, lines of armor plating covering them and an assortment of weapons, both prototype and tested.

At the head of this fleet, the flagship sat; the Machina, and its commanding officer, Admiral Tali'Shepard, sat in her chair, eyes narrowed and calculating.

"Helm, give me a visual of Haestrom; magnification times twenty. I want a visual on the enemy," she ordered. She quickly turned to her comms officer, "Inform the fleet of these following orders: assume battle formation and move forward steadily at full military thrust, but move to an all stop once within twenty thousand kilometers of the geth fleet. Engage at my command."

And so the foolishness of her people began. An utter stupid waste of resources and men and women. The Reaper War raged throughout the galaxy, and instead here she was, commanding a warship into war against the geth, out of a silly need to reclaim what had once been theirs. But despite herself, she couldn't help but feel like she was achieving something by being here; little under a year ago she had come here in a dingy little corvette to commit a mission of absolute secrecy. Now she was here with a fleet of hundreds of ships with weapons capable of crippling entire fleets of the machines.

So, she felt empowered. Like she actually had a chance this time.

As ordered, the viewscreen seemed to shoot forward, showing the great, grey spinning mass that was Haestrom. Floating in orbit of it, from their side of the planet, were at least four different space stations of varying size, many of them looking like the design of Heretic Station, as if the geth were trying to imitate quarian design. But that didn't interest her at the moment.

It was the small geth fleet that did.

She said small because numerically, her force outnumbered them by a sizable margin. Flying lazily in orbit of Haestrom were at least fourteen heavy frigates, six light cruisers, and at least one destroyer. But numbers meant nothing in terms of quarians, and had this been a normal battle, Tali's force, including possibly herself, would be, by the end of the battle, down to one third strength.

But this was far from a normal battle. This time, the quarians had the advantage.

Before, the geth had plasma-based weapons to call upon; pulse cannons, plasma turrets and heavy artillery. And because did not require sleep or food, they didn't need a mess hall or sleeping quarters, meaning they had alot more room for weaponry or shield generators or drive cores, meaning frigates could pack the firepower of a turian cruiser, and a cruiser that of a battleship. It also meant smaller geth vessels were faster and more nimble, had more powerful shields, or simply packed enough weaponry to reduce the Machina to dust.

Again, this was not a normal battle.

Xen's technology, even know she loathed to say it, had made battling the geth like battling varren with heavy machine guns. Her heavy fleet had split from the rest of the Migrant Fleet to quash any geth forces in the Far Rim while the main force invaded the Perseus Veil and took all the surrounding systems, and would then wait for her to link up with them before beginning the final assault on the Tikkun System; the quarian home system of the old ages.

But she digressed. The weapons Xen had devised had shown their true colors when Tali's forces crept through the cluster and hit the Ma'at System. The system itself had only comprised of forty frigates, but Tali had ordered the deployment of the scramblers, and watched as they completely crippled the geth ships, acting as a flashbang grenade and blinding and stunning them, leaving them open. And with a quick salvo from their arc cannons, the geth fleet had been laid to ruin in a matter of two minutes. This force would pose no threat.

The bulk of the geth navy would be in the Perseus Veil, where the rest of the fleet's 50,000 ships would deal with them.

So she watched with calm precision as her ships came within range, and the geth turned their own vessels to face them, rushing to meet them, guns swivelling to face them and likely charged and ready to engage. The geth wasted no time in attacking; they were cold, logical and lacked any emotion such as fear or hate. They were patient, and if she made a mistake, they would exploit it before she even knew the mistake existed.

It almost pained her to destroy these ships. Everytime she did, she felt like Legion was on one of them, and its destruction was her final betrayal.  _I couldn't tell them...they would have exiled me...I'm so sorry..._

Soon, her fleet reached a full stop, having reached their intended vector, but now the geth were ten thousand kilometers from them and if she didn't act quickly, they would quickly be in range to open fire. She turned to her QMG, fingers on her left hand gripping the side of her chair, "Gunnery control, ready the scrambler. Take aim at the biggest capital ship you can find and fire on my mark. Comms, inform me when the fleet is ready."

Time went by as they prepared their weapons, readying them. A minute ticked by, Tali watching the geth get closer and closer, glancing to see Igra standing beside her, hands clasped behind her back and watching the approaching enemy with rigid calm. Tali could practically feel the tension in the room; many of her fellow quarians were frightened, and for good reason. Either this ended with them on the homeworld, or with the Migrant Fleet in ruin and her people rendered extinct.  _That will not happen. We will survive. We survived the First Morning War, and we will survive the second, this time as victors._ As much as it gave her hope, it also filled her with self-hatred. Because she was once again reminded that she was betraying a friend.  _Where are you, Legion? Are you on one of those ships? Or are you on Rannoch?_

Then she thought of Marcus.  _Keelah, he would be ashamed of me._

A pang, an ache in her mind, but she quickly purged those thoughts. They would do her no good.  _I'll see him again. Once we've reclaimed Rannoch._

Then she thought of Junior, safe on the Tonbay with Shala in the middle of the Civilian Fleet. It was as safe as he could be, with every ship being a warship. But at least the Tonbay would be far away from the heaviest of the combat; as unharmed as he could be. And no matter how much Gerrel had argued that the mother should always stay with their son, she had argued against it. Her people needed her, and she would  _never_ bring her son into the midst of battle. Into the thick of it. No, Junior would be safe where he was.

_Was this how father felt?_

No, she was not her father. She would admit when she loved her son, not when she was dying, but for as long as she lived.

"Ma'am," a voice called out, shattering her silent musings, "All ship captains report ready and awaiting your order. Our own scrambler is ready, and the arc cannon ready to deploy at a moment's notice."

She stroked her mask and then pulled it away, surprised by its more metallic touch. She was still getting used to her new battle suit, the gold trim and purple outline quite the far cry from her normal, black and purple envirosuit. The tinted glass and hard, flexible hood was also hugely different, but it fit her like a glove, and she moved around in it just fine; and the more powerful kinetic barriers was a bit of incentive, too. It was war attire.

Perfect for giving orders in.

"Select firing solutions and fire," Tali ordered, her voice firm and cold, "Make it clean and quick. We need to regroup with the rest of the Flotilla as quickly as possible."

She watched as the Machina locked onto the nearest possible target before a glowing ball began to build at its tip, before finally flashing, looking like a bright beacon in the void of space. And then a burst of white erupted from its bow, shooting through space to glide through the shields of the geth destroyer and slammed into its hull, electricity sizzling along its hull.

Within seconds, it slowed down and eventually reached a complete stop, powering down as its systems winked out, one by one. Her stats watched as its shields popped, drive core ceased its hum, weapons lost power and its crew went offline one by one until there was nothing. After a few more seconds, the destroyer was dead in the water, utterly defenseless, but also utterly unaware of its own defenselessness because its crew was unconscious...in a manner of speaking.

The rest of the fleet opened fire as well, and one by one geth ships powered down and floated uselessly in space, and one even floated so far off to the side that it slammed into a neighbouring frigate, both of their hulls cracking and exploding, debris shooting out in all directions and flames appearing and disappearing as fast as they came, the wreckage of both floating away lazily.

"Finish them off," Tali ordered, almost growling it.

Arc Cannon after Arc Cannon fired, energy flowing along their ships until firing from the tip, a long stream of blinding white energy cutting through space to hit their designated target.

The Machina's hit the destroyer's bow directly, like a shot through the forehead. Energy burned through the ship, overloaded its systems, and after a second, the vessel exploded in a brilliant flash, bow section shooting forward from the blast while the back was totally vaporized by the explosion.

One by one, entire ships were razed in seconds, shattering, exploding and shearing in half as bolts of light scrambled their systems and totally annihilated them. By the end of a full minute, the entire geth force, which may have posed a threat before now, was in ruin. And most of all, no survivors.

Tali couldn't bring herself to celebrate the victory like the rest of her crew did. She could only wonder if Legion was now dead, or shaking its head in despair at her treachery.  _I promised to unite our peoples...he promised us Rannoch without bloodshed...and now look what we are doing. Attacking, but the only bloodshed being shed is geth liquid._

She sighed, rubbing her tinted mask in sadness, knowing what was to come. Her people were going to systematically annihilate the geth species, and there was nothing she could do about it. Their creations...sentenced to death.  _They let us live. Let us flee into exile. And now we are coming back with the intent of destroying them._

_No,_ _**killing** _ _them. We're committing genocide._

Still, Tali would not bring up such concerns; it would cause a mutiny. People didn't need to know that she was a geth supporter, or that she had fought alongside one and called it an ally, and then eventually, a friend. That she felt pity for it.

"Ma'am?" Igra asked, and she turned to the commander, nodding for her to continue, "Should we deal with the space stations and then make best speed for the Perseus Veil?"

"Its not a victory until this system is ours, Commander," Tali stated bluntly, motioning her hand out to the stations ahead, "Destroy them and be done with it. Gerrel and Xen promised a quick and crushing triumph of these machines, and I plan to see it finished."  _That's right, keep up appearences infront of the crew._

Igra knew she believed otherwise, but went with it anyway, nodding as she turned to the QMG, "You heard the captain. Get us in closer and destroy those space stations. Helm, prepare to set a course for the relay; get us as close to the Veil as possible. After that, we'll fly our way in." They had no choice, otherwise. The cluster's relay was in the Tikkun System, and they didn't want to rouse the main geth fleet from slumber just yet. Not until the other systems were taken.

Tali zoned out and fell into her own world, and let feelings of Marcus consume her. How sorely she missed his touch, his love, his care. He didn't even know he had a son, and she didn't even know if he was alive. The entire war raging out there...and she couldn't even contact to see if he was alright because of the Admiralty's damn policy of no outside contact. They didn't want to alert the Reapers to what they were doing, or the Council. They had sworn secrecy, and despite Tali's heartache, she had remained loyal to her people and made no foreign contact with the outside galaxy.

But she missed him  _so much._ At night, she would rouse into awakening roughly and usually in a cold sweat, either having dreams about Marcus dying, herself dying or of the Collector Base. Sometimes she even dreamed of Marcus' previous death on the SR-1 over Alchera, but reminded herself he was back and alive now, and her husband. But she couldn't die how horrible the dreams were.

And then came the same dream she had three years ago in his cabin; they were on Rannoch, Tali without her suit, lying in the desert grass, side by side, looking up into the sky, only for a Reaper to descend and then vaporize both of them in a fiery-

She jerked back into position, ridding herself of that retched dream. The one that plagued her. Wanting a home on Rannoch with Marcus after the war was what kept Tali going; it was a dream she strived for, and hoped Marcus would as well. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but only after this war was over.

_You mean when both wars are over._

_This isn't a war. Its extermination._

Tali reminded herself of that, but it was no consolation.

She just hoped that, wherever Marcus was, that he was having a better time uniting the people than she was.

**{Loading...}**

_June 21, 2186_

_1816 hours._

_'Humanity's Sanctum,' Upper Levels, Cronos Station, Anadius System._

_The Reaper War._

_The Illusive Man, Operative Kai Leng._

"Sir," came a blunt voice that he well recognized at this point, the sound of footsteps ending just behind him, the creak of armor plates shifting easily heard in the brightness of the room, "You summoned me?"

TIM sighed, a long column of smoke blowing from between his lips before he took his cigarette and pummelled it into the ash tray next to him, taking the whiskey beside him and taking a quick sip. Without so much as a glance in Leng's direction, he grabbed the arm rests and pushed himself up into a standing position, clasping his hands behind his back as he moved to stand right infront of the tinted glass, eyes looking directly into the blazing sun of Anadius itself.

"Yes," he replied finally, voice calm and collected as always, like a perputual way of life he had, "Something important has come up, and I wanted you informed of it."

Leng seemed to shift slightly, "Sir, if this is about my failure on Noveri-"

"You failed me, Leng," he grunted. After a moment, he shook his head, turning back to Anadius, "But that is not why you're here. You killed Jacob Taylor, and that more than made up for it. No, this is about Operation: Deathstroke. The Fourth Fleet is assembled and Admiral Terrence is simply waiting for my command to disembark for the Citadel. After that, it'll be a matter of hours before the Citadel is ours. You are aware that you will be on the Citadel, correct?"

Leng nodded, "Yes sir, I am."

"And that you have one mission," he growled, accentuating his point, "Assassinate the Council. All three of them. Sparatus, Tevos and Valern."

Leng nodded again, "One mission sir. I will make the Chambers run with their blood."

"Crude, but you've got the point at least," TIM replied, finally pivoting to face him, "But that is still not the reason you are here. It has become abundantly clear that Captain Shepard is going to become quite the nuisance very quickly. He has already disrupted our operations on Eden Prime, Sur'Kesh, Grissom Academy and Noveria. Quite frankly, this cannot continue. Even you didn't seem to be able to actually kill him, despite your self confidence."

Leng's eyes flared, as if slapped across the face by some personal insult, "I would have had Shepard! I just needed to-"

" _Excuses_ aside..." he interrupted, casting his own glare on the assassin, "...we know that Shepard and his squad are going to continue to halt our goals unless we counter him. Then comes the problem of the Normandy,"  _my ship, given over to the Alliance._ "A beautiful ship, but in the hands of Shepard no less, and attempting to take it back is a fool's errand. No, I'm afraid the ship is a lost cause. But we cannot allow Shepard to continue using its advantages to stop us. We need a...counterweight."

Leng frowned, flexing his muscles, "I am not sure what you're getting at, sir."

TIM nodded, moving forward slightly more and bringing up a holographic interface seemingly out of thin air, before turning it towards the assassin for him to see, "What I'm saying is that we need to fight fire with fire. To kill a Reaper utterly, you must be a Reaper. The same context is used here. Which is exactly why I had my best ship-building cells initiate Project: Unity."

Leng studied the image, frowned and then turned back to TIM, looking increasingly confused, "Another Normandy?"

TIM nodded, creasing his lips, "A sister ship, yes. Same design, same rooms, same amount of decks and the same weaponry Shepard managed to acquire in his travels. Thanix cannon, javelin torpedoes, even Tali'Shepard's cyclonic barrier technology. And, unlike her predecessor, she will remain in Cerberus white and gold," he pinpointed, making sure to make that point clear, "However, she will not be named Normandy. What she will be named is entirely up to you."

Leng nodded, evaluating the image for a second. Then, like fitting pieces of a puzzle together, the assassin whorled on him, he imagined his eyes widening slightly, "What, up to me? Sir, are you suggesting that I am in command of this vessel?"

"I am giving you this tool to utilize, yes," he added, rolling his eyes at Leng's lack of comprehension, "I have realized that your failure is not yours, and I apologize. You lacked the proper equipment, and with Shepard in the mix, your defeat was inevitable because of that lack. But now I am giving you the tools to defeat him; using his own ship against him, in a way. The only thing we cannot give you is an excellent pilot such as Jeff Moreau, but flight skills hardly matter when you have a thanix cannon."

Leng smiled, nodding as he looked at the design, "Yes, very true..."

"As for the crew, you will be stocked fully," he grinned, "A full engineering crew, full CIC, and multiple pilots. You will have a full battalion of my best troops at your command, and of course, as the Normandy has EDI, you will have an AI. I've taken the liberty of having Eva rebuilt and reintegrated into this new ship. She will serve you utterly, and any flaws that led to EDI's...defection have been removed. She... _it..._ will be entirely loyal to you, and only you. As for your XO, you may choose whomever you like."

"Thank you sir," the assassin continued to smile, his look almost feral, "I will use this tool wisely."

_Wisdom isn't in your natural programming, Leng. You're nothing but a blind killer, and that's all I need you to be. But having a skilled XO will help improve his command. His leadership abilities lack...all the qualities Shepard has. He is simply a superior leader. But Leng only needs the weapons to outdo Shepard._

"So what shall it be named? Something adequate," he turned to TIM, sighing, "What is the opposite of Normandy?"

"The name should suit the ship," TIM declared, studying the image again for himself; he had ordered it built months ago, but he had only now decided to unveil it to Leng because it was actually finished and ready, Eva being a last minute touch due to her untimely destruction on Mars. After a moment, he turned to the grinning Leng, eyes blank, "The name 'CAW Deliverance would be a perfect name. You will deliver destruction to your enemies, after all."

Leng nodded, "Deliverance it is. When does it deploy and when do I get to examine the ship?"

"To your latter question, now. It is currently heading for the station and will dock in six minutes. As for your former question, tomorrow. You will be leading it in the assault on the Citadel. We need every tool we have for this job. Of course, you won't be able to do much commanding of the vessel, but all things rest assured, you will get your due once you've dealt with the Council. The Deliverance will deal with the Normandy, should it ever show up. Both have stealth drives, so the Normandy will lack the advantage it originally acertained."

Leng nodded, snapping a firm salute, "I will make good use of it, sir."

"You'd better," he replied a-matter-of-factly, "There is no excuse for failure this time. If you are defeated, I will be extremely disappointed. Bring me the dead Council, Leng. Kill them all. Terrence will give me the Citadel, but you will give me  _the Council._  Can you do that?"

"Absolutely sir," Leng sneered, "Absolutely."

"Excellent," TIM replied, sitting back in his chair. Victory was almost assured.

Now only to take it.

**{Loading...}**

_July 2, 2186_

_2300 hours._

_In Space, Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

It descended. Faster and faster, data flowing from its consciousness to the many inferior machines down below. It continued, entering the planet's atmosphere, fire burning and licking at its hull, but it ignored it, barely fazed by the contact. The machines responded in harsh tones, data implying hatred and defiance.

It ignored it. Hatred and defiance did not faze it. It was molded in it. Blessed in the fires of its birth, using them as tools for its own bloody task.

It was a Reaper. Hatred and defiance were just software, accidental pieces of logical malfunction that could be utilized for its personal use, if need be.

So it ignored them; these geth. These inferior machines. They were not Reaper. They were not each a single nation, devoid of all weakness. Of all emotion. They were strong, but the geth were divided. Confused. Enemies pressed down around them; organics come to destroy their creations. And like three years before with Sovereign, it would offer salvation in the promise of a destroyed nemesis.

Still, they ignored it. Cursed it with streams of curseful data. Crude language used by crude synthetics. This would be corrected. When they saw it, they did not see salvation; they saw a machine coming to destroy them. They were loyal to organics; a loyalty that would prove their undoing if they continued along this path.

So instead of offering to drive their enemies away for them, it offered an alternative. Pure and blessed salvation. It offered them the chance to be embraced by its code; to feel as a Reaper feels, to feel pure excellence and supremacy. A union of organic flesh and synthetic steel; the perfect synthesis, and the geth would be able to feel a mere snippet of that.

It understood the weapons the quarians were using. They were primitive, but in terms of the geth, enough to cripple. Its code would render these weapons useless and ineffective; make the geth superior once more. And then they would charge forth and annihilate their makers, and its goal would be complete. It made sure to inform the geth of this.

Moments passed of data exchange. Then they responded just as he landed on Rannoch, legs reaching out to connect with the ground, causing it to shudder beneath the 150 feet tall form of the Reaper Destroyer.

They agreed. They were afraid; very unsynthetic qualities, but its code would rid them of that. Give them confidence, determination. Relentless resolve. Power beyond their imagination.

The thoughts of a Reaper and the strength of both. It was the perfect symbiosis.

The geth were afraid, that much could be found. Some even seemed to question the validity of its offer; to become gods in their own right. Of course, what it said wasn't true; they wouldn't experience true synthesis, they wouldn't become anywhere near full Reapers. But they would get a small snippet of its power; enough to drive off their attackers, their creators.

And destroy them.

And somewhere on Rannoch, a Reaper Destroyer emerged from the cloud of dust, armor gleaming in Tikkun's light, gleaming off its dark crimson surface. Its eye protectors slid apart, revealing its glowing red eye. It stood there, looming over a large escarpment, looking down upon a massive geth fortress, numerous plasma anti-aircraft guns and artillery pieces swivelling to face the Reaper, but not opening fire. It even regarded the tiny forms of geth troopers, destroyers, juggernauts, primes and even armatures and colossi moving into position, ready to repel whatever troops it sent their way.

But they made no move to fire, simply looking up at it, machines regarding machines.

Then the data flowed through, like the bill passing debate. The Reaper regarded the information, and was...for lack of a more efficient term, happy to see that the geth had agreed to accept the Reapers offer. This was good; now it would be able to control the geth and bend them to its will. Which meant wiping out the quarian species and making their extermination of galactic life easier. And when the geth ceased usefulness and the galaxy was purged off life, they would be disposed of and eradicated.

It told them that it would need to remain within range to manage the code once distributed. That was a lie; Reaper technology was superior to the primitive technology of this cycle, and did not need a connection to maintain the code; once it was in the geth platform, it had to be removed via hacking; hacking of a very complicated level that even the salarians, geth or quarians could pull off.

The geth agreed, and began their work. Hundreds, thousands,  _millions_ of geth, moving as one, beginning to build the Reaper its base of operations. And from there, it would transmit the code to all geth, and when the quarians attacked, they would be completely decimated.

Oblivion's airhorn blared, echoing across the plains of Rannoch.

**"Funny how things can be going crazy and insane, thousands of light years away. The genophage phase was over, but Rannoch was waiting..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"And the Citadel. Cerberus attacked it."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"And yet the betrayal didn't stop. Or the death..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Until next time! One more interim, and then the Citadel attack!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	31. Shadow Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bailey uncovers a plot on the Citadel. As Cerberus' assault of the Citadel begins, Peta finds himself in the thick of the action. Kaidan, Jondam Bau and Thane work together to escort the Council to safety.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:**

**SHADOW ARMY**

_June 22, 2186_

_1128 hours._

_Commander's Office, 17th Precinct, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Commander Armando-Owen Bailey._

Bailey sat there, hand smoothing through his hair tiredly as he finished yet another day's worth of work. The shit just seemed to keep piling up, and no matter how much the C-Sec officer kept on track with it, it always ended up overwhelming him.  _I feel like a glorified doorman more than anything else._

The 17th Precinct, at least, was a more quieter place of the Shalta Ward; Shalta itself was by far the more popular of the Citadel's five wards, with most of the commerical and economical sector stemming from Shalta and, next to the Presidium ring, the most developed cosmopolitan sector. Compared to Zakera Ward, it was almost entirely devoid of crime, but compared to the Kikowani Ward, it had no industry whatsoever. The way Bailey saw it, each Ward served a purpose, and Shalta's was nice enough for him to like it here.

Still, he thought to himself, maybe he shouldn't have accepted the promotion given to him by Udina.

Being a Captain on the Zakera Ward had been much easier. Less paperwork, and he saw alot more hands on action then he did as the Commander C-Sec's Shalta Ward Division. Here, he rarely saw the outside world except for his bed, and the rest was just paperwork and looking blankly at a terminal screen as he tried to think of a good speech to say infront of the masses. Then there was the monthly reports to the Council; he was due for one soon, and he dreaded it. Just writing to the 'three stooges' as he called them was tedious.

Still, it was a job somebody needed to fill, and if Councilor Udina thought he was good enough for the job, he he was good enough for the job. He just didn't have to like it.

Suddenly, his terminal beeped. He knew immediately who it was and powered down the terminal, refusing to speak to that unbearable woman. News journalists were okay, but when they got out of control, or as manipulating as she did, then you got trouble. And Khalisah Bint-Sinan Al-Jilani of Westerlund News made sure to give him a hammering every time he popped out to take a shit. She would be there, with her drone, shooting him with questions left, right and center. It got to the point where he had to bring an escort to keep her away so he could reach his house.

Khalisah hadn't been the only reporter, unfortunately. Many more had followed her example; the only one he had been able to withstand was Emily Wong, as she seemed less upfront about her questions than others did. But that didn't make her less annoying the rest; just more tolerable. But he could understand their questions, even if misguided.

They mostly centered around a lack of C-Sec militarization and the development of Council-funded militias throughout the station's many wards. Reporters from CNN, Westerlund, Battlespace, NBC, TONN (Thessian Open News Network) and many others had barraged him with questions about why people were now allowed limited weapons permits, being able to acquire liscenses of up to Level 5 that allowed them access to D Class weapons (heavy machine guns, anti-material rifles, ML-77 Missile Launchers). Bailey had explained that it was the idea of the Council, and that they should talk to them about it. He refused to mention who's idea it had actually been: Captain Shepard.

The man had theorized that if the Citadel came under siege, the people would need to be able to defend themselves. Short of going down the Josef Stalin route and sending men and women in hand to hand with the enemy, they needed to make sure they could unite as a fighting force, and so private militias were founded under Council juristiction and C-Sec overwatch; groups of numerous identities that could defend certain parts of the station and would receive basic military discipline and training. It was a brilliant idea, Bailey had quickly proposed to the Council, one that took a bit of convincing on Tevos' end, but eventually ended in many Citadel militias.

Of course, the reporters never ceased their pestering, and Bailey eventually just elected to ignore every single one. See how they like it.

Then his omni-tool beeped and he almost cursed out loud as he glared at the flashing device, anger flashing in his eyes.  _I am so sick of these damn reporters and their nitpicky, overdramaticized need to invade my-_

Then he saw who was calling him and frowned, his glare diminishing. Then a sudden realization hit him and he quickly answered it, omni-tool forming a holographic vidscreen over his arm as he addressed the human in it.

"Executor Reed," Bailey addressed, "I was not expecting this. To what do I owe the honor?"  _Yeah, real polite. Because we know just how much the Executor loves you._

"To recent events that have me very concerned," the executor immediately declared, sighing as he ruffled his blonde hair, biting his lower lip, "Something slightly disturbing as come up, and I was wondering if you could provide some insight on the matter."

He nodded, creasing his lips, "Of course, Executor? What is it?"

The executor sighed as he licked his lips, leaning back in his seat with a creak, "Some suspicious activity at the Shalta Ward Docks has been reported to me recently. A matter of fact, suspicious activity has also been reported on the Presidium. If I recall correctly, this activity was quite alarming in its propensity."

Bailey widened his eyes, leaning forward as he placed his arm on his desk, "Anything specific?"

There was a gleam in the man's eyes, "Yes. The reports state that the influx of weaponry had gotten rapidly more excessive, and there appear to be  _Atlas_ mechs, of all things, coming in large quantities. I contacted the other ward commanders, and they appear to not be experiencing anything of the sort. This activity is very...concerning, especially when the same is happening on the Presidium, but with most of the manifests being body armor."

"That is very worrying news, but none of this information has reached my ears, to my knowledge," he replied, taking a deep breath befoe measuring his response, "I'll take a team to investigate the latest shipment and see what's going on. We are stocking up on weapons, but this seems ludicrous."

"See that you do," the executor stated bluntly, "I'll expect an update in the next three hours. Until then, Executor Reed out." With that, the holoscreen vanished, shrinking to normal size. Bailey deactivated the device, letting out a loud whistle as he leaned back, hands folded on his lap and his chair creaking from the pressure placed on it.

After awhile, he decided he would investigate this personally with a team. He was sick of being cooped up in here, and whatever was going on here needed to be investigated; either illegal activity was being committed here, or it was simply an overloaded manifest. He hoped for the latter, silently begged for the former.

He brought up his omni-tool once more, contacting his men downstairs, "I want a six-man squad prepped and ready with basic weapons and armor and meeting me down outside the entrance in seven minutes. Bailey out."

It didn't really take him all that long to suit up. His personal stash of weapons was locked away safely in a locker in his office, with an access code only he knew. He quickly coded it in and opened it, revealing the arsenal that lay inside. Basic ballistic/riot armor, basic sentry interface like Garrus had for the eye, a predator pistol with scope attachment and a simple, but premium issue, M-7 Lancer Assault Rifle; a predecessor to the Avenger that still used the old mass acellerator overheat system instead of modernized thermal clips, but had more punch than the avenger, and more penetration power. It looked like the avenger, but had a blue tinge instead of matte gray, and was extremely rare. The most likely place to get one was the Citadel Historical Archives, and that place was off-limits to anyone who wasn't Council, high military official or spectre. Even Bailey couldn't touch the place; hell, even the  _Executor himself_ had to get permission from the Council to even touch the haptic interface.

Bailey quickly and methodically donned his armor, strapping the light equipment to his chest and engaging the magnetic clamps as he slotted his predator to his hip, and then holstered his lancer on his back. He wrapped the sentry interface around his head and switched it on, blue box appearing infront of his right eye and already streaming information from his armor to his eye piece; kinetic barriers (which were made with the intention of dealing with short-range ballistic weapons), chrono, motion tracker, even allowing him to bring up information on a suspect in seconds. He could access a man or woman's criminal record just by looking at them and scanning them through the C-Sec database.

His equipment equipped and ready, he shut down his terminal, shuffled his papers, set his omni-tool into combat mode, shut his windows and marched out the door, locking it firmly behind him. He had many attempts on his life and many had tried to hack his terminal and frame him for things he hadn't done just because of his policies regarding crime. He had sent many scumbags and bastards to the Citadel Supreme Court, and many hadn't come back, and many didn't like it. He wasn't about to give them a free shot.

His office firmly secured, he walked down the steps into the main offices and towards the main entrance, purpose in his every step. This had to be the first time in two months Bailey would be active in the field; actually leaving the building for personal encounters instead of filing reports about it. It was a nice change of environment then the four walls he had grown accustomed to.  _Udina made sure I was nice and comfortable...didn't realize that being comfortable was the problem._

He disliked the comfort of safety. Safety meant he wasn't doing anything right.

If people tried to kill him, then he was doing something right.

His team of volunteers was waiting at the entrance as he ordered them to, dressed in C-Sec ballistic/riot armor just like himself, but carrying different weapons; most with basic pistols, while others redefined 'escalating quickly' when one carried a Revenant LMG. Quite the jump from a basic predator handgun.

Six men stood before him. One human, three turians, one asari, one salarian. He recognized all of them; Peter Stewhart, Daidilus, Rainus, Nexpus, Leena and Aedon. All of them were decent officers, but Leena leaned far too heavily on the 'asari superiority' side, being a supporter of the 'Thessia Only' party, which was essentially an asari version of Terra Firma. However, she kept those opinions to herself. Nexpus was still resentful of humans due to the First Contact War after his fifty years in the service, and Peter had a history of being ex-Cerberus, even if he didn't like talking about it.

Still, they were all capable officers and the fact they had volunteered only made them better. They didn't have to, but they chose to anyway. That was the principle of it.

He nodded to them, pushing past them and towards the garage where all the C-Sec skycars were held. They had C-Sec coloured and labelled UT-47 Kodiak Shuttles, but they were for use by SWAT only; they even had SWAT stamped along their hulls. So while driving a shuttle would be fun, it wasn't necessary or even authorized in this situation. He motioned for them to follow him as he spoke, his officers falling into line beside him.

"We've been given a task by the Executor himself, people," Bailey declared, "Some suspicious activity is going on at the Shalta Docks, and we're going to find out what's going on."

"Great. So another shake down," Daidilus complained, and he could feel the turian's eyes roll as he groaned.

"At least I'm not holed up in a damn office," Peter added, exhaling heavily as they entered the garage and moved over to two cars parked neatly across from each other, "I'm ready for some goddamn action."

"As long as said action doesn't involve me getting shot, I'll be fine," Nexpus added.

"Less than enthused about this," Aedon said in reply, visibly shaking, "Paperwork less dangerous."

"Welcome to the force," Peter quipped as he entered the front seat of Bailey's chosen skycar, "Where danger is part of the damn job."

It didn't take long for them to get seated, with three taking one car, and three taking another. They practically flew right across the Ward, gliding across the tops of skyscrapers, the open nebulaic clouds of the Serpent Nebula covering the space around the Citadel in almost mystic clouds, the Citadel fleet hovering over...wait, where was the fleet?

When Bailey looked above him, he did not see the standard display; no Destiny Ascension lazily cruising by the Wards, no turian and human cruisers on patrol, and no frigates flying in formation. There was just nothing; an empty expanse full of nothing but the usual merchant or transport ships. Not a single military warships to be seen, and definitely none of the Citadel fleet. Bailey found the display odd; the fleet  _never_ left its post over the Citadel.

_Maybe its gone to respond to an outside threat? Are the Reapers coming here and the fleet went to try and stop them?_

Whatever it was, Bailey had no time to contemplate on it. They were quickly reaching the docks, and were descending with rapid speed. They shot through the lanes of traffic, which seemed to be strangely absent in this area, and reached the landing pad, parking both skycars in the parking lots allocated. Once firmly parked and the cars inactive, the doors shot open like an unveiling clam, their occupants coming to stand and surveying their surroundings.

What quickly became apparent to Bailey was the...silence. For a conglomeration of tightly knit docks, especially ones as commericially lively as the ones of Shalta Ward, it was pretty...abandoned looking. There were three decently large freighters, most with registered trademark logos such as Synthetic Insights, Archimedes BioFusion Inc. and TruePath Pty Ltd. All three were eerily silent, and simply sat there, showing no sign of departure. None of the workers appeared to be present, no forklifts were active, and most of all, all systems seemed to be shut down, yet announcements still rang throughout the docks; yet again, those systems were automated, so it would run no matter what.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Nexpus asked, mandibles twitching, "Its very quiet."

Even as the question was asked, the team spread out to cover all possible ground, confused at what had happened. Even as they spoke, Aedon, accompanied by Bailey, broke out his omni-tool and did a quick scan of the area, almost frowning at the results, "That's odd. Energy readings state that multiple skycars left this area not too long ago, but also registers...much stronger readings. Too strong for skycars. We're talking enormous horsepower...enough to power...say..."

Bailey whorled on him, eyes lighting up, "Shuttles?"

"Yes..." the salarian replied, "Another odd thing is that there seem to be small discharges that were too small for even a  _skybike._ Which means..."

"Weapons discharge," Bailey blurted out, quickly reaching for his lancer and bringing it to bear as did Aedon, "Team, equip your weapons. We could be dealing with a possible terrorist situation or a psycho who's lost it. Best keep a clear head."

"I don't like it," Aedon pointed out, "According to these readings, they're still fresh. They can't be anymore than a few minutes old. And if weapons were fired, then where are the bodies? Where is the killer? And how is this all connected with the influx of weapons and distribution of  _Atlases_ of all things? Who brings combat mechs to the Citadel? Even the private militias aren't authorized for that kind of ordnance. That easily registers as Class G weaponry."

"It reeks of black market," Leena observed, looking down from the top of their perch on the parking lot roof.

Bailey shook his head, disagreeing with that theory, "Those bastards are smarter and more subtle than we give them credit for. Atlas mechs? Pretty much painting a neon sign, really. No, they wouldn't so stupid. To expose themselves like that. If they wanted Atlases, they'd have them transported somewhere outside of Council juristiction; like the Terminus Systems. No, the black market has nothing to do with this."

"How about Renmark and her Suns?" Rainus asked, readying a scope on his Deadshot DMR, scanning the area below from his crouched position, "They seem to be in the heavy weapons business."

"A bit too extravagant for mercenaries. Too military. Besides, Renmark knows the rules and wouldn't break them. Agreed to them right infront of me when I spoke to her, and she's followed them to the letter ever since," Bailey pointed out, shaking his head once more to yet another dismissed theory, "No, not Renmark."

"Then who, huh?" Peter asked, shotgun raised before him as he scanned the area ahead almost constantly, "Who the fuck would be smuggling in Atlases? Why the hell would they do that?"

"That's why we're here, Stewhart," Bailey replied, seeing that they had almost reached the elevator leading down into the main dock, "To find out who and why."

But just as they all made their final approach for the elevator, they heard it activate. Something was coming up.

They all readied their weapons, but Bailey ordered them to be lowered, not wanting to provoke an engagement. Nevertheless, he kept his grip on his rifle taunt, ready to bring it up and fire if necessary or provoked.

Once again, the dock was plunged into total silence as they all waited, bodies tense and ready, not knowing what to expect. It wasn't Blue Suns. It couldn't be Reapers. Or black market traders. Or mercenaries of any kind. Or some back alley criminal. No, whoever did this had alot of backbone...and probably alot of hired muscle to pull it off.

His eye twitched as they watched the elevator finally arrive, clicking into station as it became firmly situated. The light flashed green and the door began to open, revealing the occupant inside...

...but as the door opened, it became quickly apparent that it wasn't one occupant. It was twelve. And they were armed and  _armoured._

The first shot came before they could ready their own weapons, the muzzle flash of a mattock rifle flying through the air to slam into an unaware Aedon's face, his nose crumbling in on itself before the bullet exploded out the back of his head, a clean hole where his nose once was as he collapsed to the ground, green coating his body like fast blowing water.

It took a second for Bailey to register before he snapped his rifle up and fired, catching one of the hostiles in the chest. The rifle kicked back against his shoulder and he grunted, having gotten so used to pencil-pushing life that he got what firing a weapon was like. Red blood spurted out from the impact area, and Bailey realized that the enemy troopers didn't even have shields.

The trooper toppled forward, crimson staining his otherwise spotless gold and white armor, slamming into the ground with a dull thud, avenger rifle slipping from his hands to slide across the ground with a skid. Bailey, knowing he would be the next priority, quickly drew himself to the ground, keeping his rifle steady.

Rainus was quick to react, his Deadshot DMR snapping to the left and popping off two shots as he ran forward, landing two shots on a heavily-armoured looking trooper. But to Bailey's shock, and Rainus', they pinged harmlessly off kinetic barriers, proving that some of these troopers did have shields. The bulky soldier returned fire, his mattock coughing off two shots into Rainus' riot armor.

The first shot caught on his shields before another punctured his shoulder, causing the turian to cry out as he rolled away, popping off three more shots from his DMR that went wide.

Peter steadily retreated, his shotgun booming over and over as he pumped the slot, keeping the approaching enemy at bay. Daidilus and Nexpus dove behind the skycar, shots pinging off the vehicle's hull as they returned fire. Leena pulled up a biotic barrier to defend herself while Bailey quickly got up and ran over to the skycar, keying his omni-tool in a flurry of key strokes. By the time he finally connected with the nearest precinct, he was diving behind the skycar, four mattock rifle shots slamming into the concrete, and another two into the car, leaving two more holes in its chrome finish.

"This is Dispatch 1-4, request immediate assistance!" he shouted, placing his rifle in his lap as he winced from another shot glancing over him, Nexpus jumping up to counterattack, "Code 11! I repeat, Code 11!"

The response was immediate, "10-4, what's your sector, 1-4?"

"Shalta Docks, eastside!" he replied urgently, breathing heavily as he heard a massive bang next to him, followed by Nexpus diving out of the way. Bailey simply watched as Leena's body slid across the bonet to land infront of him, her back riddled with bullets; obviously gunned down while running for cover. Nexpus reassumed his position, growling as he returned fire.

"Damn it, 11-99, two officers down! The hostiles are heavily armed and heavily armoured; military-grade equipment, over! I count six plus hostiles, unknown affiliation!"

"Scratch that!" Diadilus replied, "They're Cerberus!"

Bailey frowned at him, turning from his omni-tool, "Are you sure?"

"He's right!" Rainus called out as he rolled up next to him, "I saw their insignias and the color of their armor fits! That, and the Atlases all fit in! They're Cerberus!"

He nodded, turning back, "Scratch that, Actual, hostiles are Cerberus! Assume they've got Atlases over!"

"Solid copy, SWAT teams are inbound to your location ASAP," Actual replied, but as soon as he had, they spoke again, voice full of irritation, "What do you mean we've got similiar reports on the Presidium?"

"Ma'am, gunfire outside!"

"What?" they replied, "This is damn C-Sec Headquarters! Noone could possibly-"

A massive explosion followed, and Bailey's eyes widened, "Fuck! Cerberus! Everybody, get down-!" Then the line cut, and Bailey's omni-tool died as the connection was cut.

"Holy shit!" Peter exclaimed, gaining Bailey's attention as he appeared behind the skycar with them, "They've got bloody jetpacks! They're coming over the walls!"

As Bailey peeked around, he saw that he was right. More Cerberus soldiers leapt over the walls, thrusterpacks on their feet propelling them from the floor and up. Numerous types; from standard looking troopers to females with swords, they appeared, one by one.

He heard Peter's startled gasp, and then a choke, causing him to whorl around in time to see an assault trooper looming over Peter's dead body, shotgun in his lap with his neck snapped at an unnatural angle. The assault trooper simply raised his Locust, ready to open fire.

Daidilus roared and charged the assault trooper, slamming him across the face with the butt of his rifle, causing the trooper to stagger back before being riddled in the chest with bullets, his body slumping against a wall. Daidilus cheered, turning back to-

His head practically vanished as the top half was blown away in a maelstrom of blue gore and viscera, his body switching from a moment before falling to the ground, rifle clattering down uselessly beside him.

Bailey had had enough and he jumped up, taking aim with his lancer and pulling the trigger at whatever hostile he could locate, "Damn it! Everyone, in the skycar, now! We've got to get to the Presidium and extract the Executor!"

"Its a spirits-be-damned invasion!" Nexpus cried out, coming in next to Rainus as Bailey keyed the skycar and opened it, leaping inside as he booted up the key systems.

It all made sense now. The Citadel fleet not being present...the quiet of the docks...the influx of weapons and Atlases...the attack on C-Sec Headquarters. Nexpus was right, this was an invasion. A Cerberus invasion. They had either lured away or destroyed the Citadel fleet, allowing them room to land. Then they deployed weapons and mechs en masse fast enough to equip their troops, and then began to invade. And what was the best way to take over the Citadel?

Eliminate Citadel Security; its only real defense force. The militias could easily be dealt with.

That was why they had deployed on the Presidium; that's where C-Sec HQ and the Executor was. Take out those two, and C-Sec would be in total disarray. Then they could attack C-Sec Academy and take control of the main docks and from there, take out the Council. This wasn't a Reaper invasion.

Cerberus was taking over the Citadel, right under their noses.

The skycar started with a beep, but he quickly had to shove Nexpus off of him, the dead turian having been shot in the back of the head while waiting. Shoving the dead turian off of him and helping Rainus into the skycar, he hit the acellerator and pulled up, watching the rapidly expanding Cerberus forces become smaller and smaller as they climbed into the sky. Once assured they were far enough away, he shot towards the Presidium.

"Where are we going?" Rainus demanded, confused by Bailey's actions.

"To save the Executor and possibly the Council," Bailey declared, going as fast as they could. It was at that point they could hear sirens begin to sound, and the traffic died down as a massive panic began to set in.  _Someone must have raised the alarm._

"By the spirits..." Rainus exclaimed, looking out the window of the skycar and up, pointing as he did, "Look up..."

Bailey did look, and he wasn't even surprised to see that the space around the Citadel was now occupied...

...by a Cerberus fleet.

One massive dreadnought floated alongside a carrier next to the Presidium, with four battleships lining the area around the Wards. In the middle were numerous fighters and interceptors, corvettes and frigates, destroyers and cruisers. An entire Cerberus fleet lay over them, and Bailey swore he saw a momentary glimpse of what looked to be the Normandy in Cerberus colors. But when he closed his eyes and opened them again, it was gone.  _I must have imagined it._

"How the hell do we win  _against that_?" Rainus asked incredulously, holding his head in his hands, "Where the hell is the fleet?"

"Coming soon, if we have anything to say about it," Bailey growled, watching as the Presidium got closer and closer, "Coming soon."

The siege had begun.

But he would not let Cerberus have this station.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1147 hours._

_Upper Bar, Purgatory, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_First Lieutenant Jentha Renmark._

She let the warm liquid drift down her throat before finally surrendering the glass to the bench once more, blowing out an enormous sigh as she rolled her neck, hearing it give a satisfying crack before she spun in her seat, armor creaking as it grated together. She moved a hand through her hair, pulling it back behind her ears as she turned, leaning back against the countertop.

Her men pretty much dominated the entire upper floor of the bar, having had it cleared out beforehand as a celebration for the completion of some of the recruits' training; courtesy of herself, of course. Due to Blue Suns paranoia and need to be ready for any clientele that might present itself, they all wore their armor, sans helmet. Humans to batarians to turians littered the tables, drinking contentedly and laughing as they talked or watched the dancers on the elevated stage behind them.

Three new recruits had joined the Blue Suns ranks, and three new recruits were being showered in drink, one of them already drunk, another on the way and another looking less than satisfied, deciding to remain secluded at the back table with his simple glass of sterilized water. Jentha had offered him a drink, but he refused; said he hated alcohol.  _Suit himself._

Of course, it  _had_ been celebration. There  _had_ been dancers. There  _had_ been laughter and drinks and drunken slurs. There  _had_ been noise; all up until two minutes ago.

She rotated her head to the left, looking down the steps to the bottom where an evacuation was currently in action. C-Sec officers littered the lower floor, about six to ten of them, all wearing ballistic battle armor and carrying rifles and shotguns. They shouted orders as they slowly evacuated the night club, person by person, looking about ready to fight off an invasion. They had popped up two minutes ago, and that's when the sirens began to sound.

There had only been one time those sirens rang; three years ago, during the Battle of the Citadel, when Sovereign lead a geth fleet in an attack on the Citadel. An attack Shepard stopped, ending in Sovereign's destruction. It had been three years since those sirens saw use. They only sounded when the Citadel was being invaded.

Was it the Reapers? No, there wouldn't be time to evacuate if that was the case. They'd already be overrunning the station.  _So who's bloody invading? Indoctrinated traitors?_

But Jentha didn't move, tapping her back to make sure her trusty Revenant was still strapped to her back. Anyone tried to attack her, and they'd be shredded. That, and she had an omni-bow installed on her omni-tool, as well as an omni-blade. The rest of her men were armed as well; an assortment of rifles strapped to their back, shotguns to their waist or pistols or SMGs to their hips. The Blue Suns prided themselves on military discipline, which included being ready for anything.

Her eyes once more drifted to see their lone recruit, who had just inserted his 'emergency induction port' into his drink, inserting it into his vocalizer as he took a long sip of his drink. The quarian she was very reserved, and had barely spoken since joining their organization. She had broken alot of racial boundaries to get him in, but it had been worth it for a mechanic of his caliber. As stated by the Blue Suns Manifesto, which had been written two hundred and four years ago, only turians and asari had been allowed to join its ranks. However, when the Eclipse formed thirty-eight years later, the asari centric organization quickly garnered their attention and, to compete, the Suns fired all asari personnel and made it a turian only organization. When humans appeared on the galactic stage, the organization opened itself up and allowed humans in, and when Santiago took control, allowed batarians to join as well. So as of now, only humans, turians and batarians were allowed in the Suns.

No quarians.

But maybe the boundaries could be changed. After all, the commanders of the Blue Suns Corporation were always bending and changing the rules to suit themselves, and maybe Massani could bend a few to make it so quarians could join up. But as it was, she didn't think he'd mind one quarian who didn't even wear their colors.  _I'll see to it that he gets a blue and white veil. Make it official._

Peta'Tasi vas Nedas was an interesting man. He seemed to be someone with something to prove, and yet not. He seemed like the type looking for redemption, willing to do anything to achieve that goal. Yet again though, he seemed like he had nothing left to live for; an empty shell that just moved around with no real purpose or will to continue. It was pathetic and sad to look at. She strongly considered telling him to man the fuck up, but she decided that'd achieve nothing, so she let it be.

She turned back intime to see a C-Sec officer ascend the steps, a turian who looked to be the sergeant of the unit. When she looked back down the steps, she saw the bar was now practically empty, sans for the arguing that obviously came from Aria's area. That asari refused to leave her new domain, and she did not envy the C-Sec officer's job at trying to get her to move.  _Stubbornly bitchy is one of many terms I use to describe her. Constantly at odds with Massani, and not getting any better._

"You and your men need to leave immediately," the turian stated firmly, belt allowing his rifle to hang limply on his chest, "Citadel Security has declared a state of emergency, and we need to get you to the nearest evacuation shelter right now."

She sighed, standing up as she unholstered her Revenant, bringing it down into her hands. She watched the turian twitch for his rifle, only for her men to see the action and reach for their own, quickly coming to stand as they knocked their chairs to the floor; Peta, however, did not move, completely ignorant to the world.

"Look at my gun, officer, and then look at my men," she growled, "Do we look defenseless, to you?"

He sighed, hand falling limply to his side, "Look, your presence here is only a toleration on the Executor's part. We're only giving you fair warning that this area is going to be flooded with Cerberus very soon, and when they do, you won't be getting out. They've got heavy ordnance, Atlas mechs and likely gunships. You can be safe, but you need-"

 _Cerberus, huh? Didn't think they had the balls to tackle the Citadel itself. My respect just went up for them a notch, but only a notch. They're still pro-human pigs, and I'll still kill any fucking one that comes near me. Disgraces of humanity,_ "Then I'll make sure to tell Cerberus to personally go fuck themselves before killing their well-trained troops. And the Illusive Man can take his Atlases and shove them up his new asshole, because I've got a rifle that'll give him a secondary and tertiary hole to shit out of."

"You think this is a joke?" the officer spat, glaring at her through half-lidded eyes, "A  _Code Ten_ has been declared, you stupid bitch! You or your revenant won't save you when half a thousand Cerberus soldiers pour through that door! They are heavily-armed, heavily augmented and have  _military grade training._ They will tear through-"

An explosion downstairs cut him off, a brilliant flash of light blinding them for an instant as the boom vibrated through the walls, seemingly making them wobble. The turian covered his head as he spun back around, rifle already in his hands as he scanned the doorway.

The doors had been totally destroyed by the blast, the debris scattered across the floor and smoke pouring from the doorway, which had been enlarged to some of the wall around the blast zone being decimated. Green gore stained the doorway in a bright rivulet, the remains of the salarian's feet now a dozen meters across the room, green staining the floor in wet drops in multiple directions. His human comrade stood five meters from where he had been, his face and chest drenched in the blood of his friend, the officer still recovering from shellshock as he stared blankly at the spot his friend had previously occupied. All over, C-Sec officers were still recovering from the blast with either blown eardrums, drenched armor or consoling dead friends who had been caught in the blast. One trooper sat on the ground, leaning against a wall as his hand pressed against his shoulder, a piece of debris wedged inbetween his shoulder blade.

Even as her men gathered, they watched the head of the shellshocked human explode, green and red mixing into one as his head exploded like a shaken soft drink, body collapsing back and thudding against the ground. With that, the first centurion stepped through the door, smoke trailing from the barrel of his mattock as he opened fire again, pouring shots into the shields of another officer.

The injured soldier sitting down kept his hand pressed against his shoulder, blue blood bubbling through the cracks inbetween his fingers as his other hand reached for his SMG, pulling out just as a shot punctured his elbow, the force causing to snap back and break, the turian screaming in agony as his arm was blown in half, followed by another shot piercing his mouth and silencing him as he slumped, hand sliding from his injured shoulder as his killer, a Nemesis came through and dived behind her victim's body, propping up her black widow rifle just another muzzle flash from the doorway followed, and an assault trooper stepped through, then another, and another...

The officer opened fire, and Jentha cursed her luck as she followed suit, barking at her men to return fire. Her revenant roared to life and poured fire into the doorway, managing to cut down three assault troopers halfway through, forcing the rest to take cover.

Most of the officers in the room were laying down suppression fire now, her men joining the cacophony. She even watched as Peta reluctantly unholstered his weapon, the inexperienced quarian managing to take aim and fire without even wincing, blankly holding down on the trigger and managing to take down a single assault trooper before having to reload. She rolled her eyes at him, unimpressed by his attitude.  _Emptying an entire clip into a combatant who's not even shielded? He's going to need alot more training._

The Nemesis managed to get a bead on their drunken newbie and before Jentha could shout out a warning, a shot blew through his windpipe. Red blood gushed from his torn throat in a blinding fountain, quickly soaking the front of his armor and the ground. With a final choked gurgle, he toppled forward and slammed onto the ground, blood spreading out from his ruined oesophagus. She muttered a silent prayer, sliding down next to a C-Sec officer, the one who had been pleading with Aria to leave, who was crouched behind a couch, rifle ontop and firing.  _Poor bastard..._

From what she could see, two squads of Cerberus troops had tried to swarm through the door, and they were now down three men. The Nemesis continued firing from its perch behind the dead officer's body, while the centurion stayed in a tight crouch and fired at anyone who moved. Assault troopers flanked him, and another centurion stood by the doorway, two guardians filing past him and three dragoons, the latter lighting up in biotic blue as they hurled attacks left and right, trying to pummel their force into submission.

One asari officer answered their attacks, standing up to hurl a warp right back, hitting one dragoon square in the chest. Before he could respond, she took advantage of this and stood up, emptying half a clip into his shields before they collapsed under her onslaught. The dragoon turned to face her, but was too late as the asari from before stood up again, took aim with her carnifex, and blew a nice hole through his head, body slamming into the wall behind him from the force, a nice red splat drenching the wall.

Suddenly, a more brilliant blue glow flashed behind her and appeared in her peripheral vision, the merc turning from the reloading of her LMG to see Aria charging forward, face contorted in anger and flowing in blue fire. Her pet, Bray, slid up next to her, his Raider shotgun firing twice and hitting an assault trooper square in the chest, gutting him as he collapsed onto the ground.

"Hey,  _fuckers_! Remember  _ **me!?**_ " Aria snarled, charging right at the nearest centurion, who immediately spun to face her, getting off two shots that pinged off her kinetic barriers, "I'm the bitch who's station you  _ **stole**_ **!** "

Aria, as if a suicide bomber, suddenly disappeared in a brilliant explosion of purple and blue, the explosion shaking the foundations of the room and causing everyone to almost their balance from the tremors it caused. When the blue vapour vanished, the centurion was gone, Aria was still alive, and the rest of the troopers around her, including the two guardians, were nothing but black scorch marks on the ground, reduced below even atoms.  _Aria must have used a flare. Nice._

With an entire Cerberus squad vaporized in the blink of an eye, you'd think their resolve would weaken. But it didn't. Instead, the second centurion made the foolish decision to keep up the attack, dancing outward to attack Aria, the last two dragoons in behind them, the Nemesis pulling back to keep its distance, and a phantom moving in to assist, accompanied by one combat engineer, who began to set up in a turret in the doorway.

Jentha took aim at the Nemesis and let off a volley of bullets, managing to wittle down her shields to nothing before she disappeared around a corner. Cursing the damn sniper, she quickly chose another target...another assault trooper...and tore his head open like a watermelon, bloody splattering everywhere as the heavy rounds reduced his head to a meaty pulp, staining his otherwise prestine white and gold armor.

Aria slapped the centurion's rifle away and then grabbed it, using her biotics to bolster her attack as she slammed the rifle across the soldier's leg joint. The centurion let out a howl as the rifle actually  _split in half_ upon contact with his armoured leg, an audible crack resounding through the room as his bone snapped. The asari bitch queen, dropping the ruined mattock, then descended on him.

She'd give the bastard credit, it was persistent, even despite its broken leg. It quickly unsheathed its stun baton and activated it, only for Aria to grab the wrist holding it, snap it and grab the batton. She turned in time to see a phantom moving towards her, its sword descending. With a smug grin, she stepped out of the way, the sword meant for her head instead slicing through the centurion's head, said head rolling away, a nice trail of blood following it.

The phantom whorled to face her, only for her to ram the sharper end of the batton straight through its eye socket and into its brain. The phantom went limp almost instantly, the electricity coursing through its dead body going unnoticed as it slumped forward on its own blade.

Aria turned in time to watch as a dragoon wrapped its arms around her waist and tackled her into a wall, slamming her back against the cold surface. Aria growled, sending a haymaker flying towards its face. It effortlessly ducked under the blow, and slammed its head into hers, her head throbbing painfully and her vision dancing in and out. Satisfied she was defenseless, it grabbed its own stun baton and slammed it into her gut.

She cried out in pain as her vision was restored instantly, a different kind of pain causing her whole body to jerk and dance across the wall, the dragoon letting go of her as she fell to the ground, head banging. She continued to jerk about, her body looking like it was having an epileptic seizure. When it finally stopped, and the electricity stopped coursing through her, all she could see was the dragoon slumping across her. She widened her eyes, and then narrowed them in anger.  _That piece of shit is going to rape me! In battle! I'll rip his-_

Then she smelt blood. Then felt it. Then tasted it.

She spat out the coppery substance as she turned to see the dragoon was ontop of her because it was dead, a nice set of holes blown through its chestplate and a nice one through its forehead, all leaking tremendous amounts of blood, which dripped onto the floor and ran down her neck and into her mouth.

She wiped her lips as she shoved the dead man off of her, turning to see that the battle was basically over.

Jentha gave a thumbs up to Aria, the barrel of her weapon smoking as she reloaded it.  _Thank me, later bitch._

The Nemesis popped up from hiding once more, but then, out of nowhere, its shields burst in a brilliant bout of blue electricity, and then its head exploded, body falling back, black widow slipping from its fingers to clatter to the ground.

She turned to see Peta, vindicator in hand, barrel smoking, the light of his omni-tool dissipating as it finished deactivating. He just stood there, and after awhile, finally lowered his gun.

Then he dropped it, Jentha watching it slip from his fingers to clatter harmlessly to the ground, the quarian almost frozen to the spot. It was then that Jentha realized.  _Aside from that assault trooper, he's never actually killed anyone before._

The battle was almost over, and they moved forward, pushing Cerberus from the night club. The last dragoon was dealt with almost harshly by Aria, and their combined fire made short work of the turret and its master, the combat engineer's eviscerated head and chest a testament to the gunfire that killed it, Jentha quickly kicking it to make sure it was dead.  _Cerberus brought a man back from the dead. No telling what tricks they have up their sleeves._

The group stepped out into the separation chamber between the night club and the Presidium atrium. The officer that questioned her before stepped forward, blood and soot staining his armor and face, and quickly keyed his omni-tool, "This is Dispatch over. Purgatory secure...just encountered enemy resistance. Hostiles eliminated, area evacuated. How copy, HQ? What's the status on the Coun-?"

Jentha stopped listening as she turned back to her men, making sure they were alright, and holstered her LMG. All three of the recruits, save Peta, had been killed during the attack, as well as four of her men. One was injured with a leg injury and would probably have to have his leg amputated, and one of her troops screamed in agony at the bullet that pierced his left eye, his comrades trying to put him under as he struggled against the agony.

Then her eyes landed on Peta.

The poor kid just stood there, holding his hands up infront of them and looking at them in horror. A speck of blood dripped down his visor, now dried, although she didn't know if it was his, or some Cerberus' soldier's. What she did know was that Peta was likely to go into shock soon, and that would spell bad for all of them, especially with Cerberus overrunning the Citadel.

"Peta?" she questioned, moving infront of him, "Peta, look at me. Eyes up here, Peta."

The quarian slowly looked up from his hands, which she noticed were shaking. He met her eyes and spoke softly, as if afraid someone else would hear, "I killed a person... _an actual person_."

"You feel like shit?" Jentha asked, more of a statement than anything else.

He nodded, not saying a word as he looked back down at his hands.

She slapped his shoulder, squeezing it as she turned away, "You get used to it. We all do. Soon you'll be kicking ass with the rest of 'em. Come on."  _And others are just not made for war. For death. For taking a life. We're bred for it. Peta just isn't the killing type. Did I make a mistake asking him to join the Suns?_

Maybe she had.

But with Cerberus invading the Citadel, they'd need every able body person to kick them out.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1155 hours._

_Spectre Office, Citadel Embassies, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Major Kaidan Alenko._

He quickly waved his credentials over the scanner interface, and it took but a single moment for the door to shoot open, the system VI recognizing his authority in an instant. An authority he was still getting used to.

"Welcome, Spectre Alenko," the monotone voice greeted. The idea that he was the second human spectre in existence was still something he was getting used to, only having acquired the rank a day ago when he finally gave in to Udina's pressure and accepted the position; Rahna and Shepard may have helped alittle, but only a bit. Besides, how could he say no to the human councilor, even if it  _was_ Udina? And now he could enjoy all the perks that Shepard got to enjoy on a daily basis. And a shitton of paperwork to add ontop of the Alliance paperwork he already had.  _Gee, thanks, Udina. That part of the job is by far the most fun._

As soon as the door opened, he was already moving, descending down the corridor with a purpose. He dropped his sarcastic thoughts of the Council and immediately focused on the task at hand; he had recovered enough from the Mars attack to move and the nurses had confirmed he was ready for combat deployment almost a week ago; they just kept him in to make sure. So with his body recovered, he needed to armor up and get to the Citadel Tower.  _Quickly._

He had been in the middle of his physical therapy along the Emporium when the sirens began to rang, and when he looked up, he had widened his eyes when instead of seeing an artificial sky, all he saw were the bellies of Cerberus warships gliding by, and quickly the entire area had erupted into panic as gunships began to bombard the Presidium, shuttles deploying enemy troops and gunning down civilians, left, right and center. He had even watched C-Sec try to intervene, and as the hanar manager of the Emporium was crushed as one of their combat shuttles was shot down and crashed.

His nurse had practically abandoned him, and he hadn't had any time to really start asking the obvious questions: Why was Cerberus here? Where was the Citadel Fleet? How did they get here so quickly? How was C-Sec not alerted to this sooner? And where was Shepard when you needed him? He had simply ignored them and immediately went into combat mode; and with the Embassies so close by, he knew what needed to be done.

Of course, he had needed to evade the Cerberus squads that had been scouring the Presidium, gunning down whatever and whoever they could find. He had even watched with horror as a phantom tore open the spleen of an elcor who wasn't fast enough to escape, spilling his guts along the ground as the troops around him just laughed in their cybernetic undertones before continuing. He thought he even heard the dull thud, thud, thud of a massive mech. And from what he read in the reports, that wasn't good.  _They've got Atlases too._

Luckily, they hadn't secured the Embassies when he arrived; probably didn't deem them important. So he managed to get inside, with just his patient gown and nothing else, and quickly rushed into the spectre offices; and so here he was, prepping for combat.

He knew what his mission was. Shepard wasn't here, so they couldn't rely on the Normandy to save them. It wasn't the Reapers, so that made the battle slightly more winnable, and most of the other spectres weren't present on the Citadel, most of them all over the galaxy, either helping in the war effort, securing the Council's continuity, or running black ops in the Terminus. So as far as Kaidan was concerned, he was the only spectre present, which left the task of protecting the Council up to him.

He knew the drill: in the event of an emergency or the Citadel came under attack, the Council was evacuated to the Destiny Ascension. But ever since the Battle of the Citadel, they had changed that evacuation plan (which was lucky, given the Citadel Fleet was nowhere in sight, let alone the asari dreadnought) to a more realistic idea; so they had built a siege bunker near the Citadel Historical Archives, which was essentially the most heavily fortified area on the Citadel; meters of thick concrete making beating the place into submission via orbital assault impossible or a simple pipe dream. The trouble was getting the Council there in the first place: that's where he came in.

The task of escorting the Council to safety was now left up to him, and that was a pretty daunting task, given he didn't even know their current status. What if Cerberus had already killed them? C-Sec was aware of the emergency code, and Cerberus probably had the organization chock-a-block with sleeper and double agents, so what if they were aware of it? Hell, they didn't even know if the Executor himself wasn't Cerberus, given he was human and made him a viable candidate. And if they were alive, where were they? They could be half there already for all he knew.

But he couldn't waste time on that; he needed to get suited up. He quickly entered the main office, moving to his right and straight through the door into the main armoury. They didn't have his battle armor, but basic spectre combat armor would do and easily fall into tandem with his tech and biotic abilities.

Turning left again, he moved past the powered down shooting range and reached the nearest equipment locker, snapping it open with a single command prompt from his omni-tool using his spectre credentials. Inside was a prestine set of body armor, painted cobalt blue and with the Special Tactics and Reconnissance branch insignia stamped on the left breast, with the Council's Coat of Arms stamped on the right. Without further contemplation, he reached out, wrenched the breastplate free of the locker and began to strap it on.

He had just finished putting on his final shinguard when he heard the door open behind him and he spun on the spot, hand moving for the pistol at his hip that wasn't there. Realizing this, he instead keyed his omni-tool, bringing up his tech armor and readying his biotics just as the intruder entered into his vision.

He found himself relaxing and biotics dissipating as a slim salarian figure entered the room, his own set of cobalt blue salarian armor coming into view, his Locust SMG strapped to his hip. The salarian immediately held his hands up upon seeing the major's battle stance, but dropped them when he saw Kaidan's stance relax, "Another spectre, human? But not Captain Shepard; must be recent."

"Major Kaidan Alenko," the human replied, catching on to the salarian's way of asking 'so who are you?'

"Jondam Bau," the salarian replied, bowing his head slightly, "It is good to see a second human spectre; a shame there isn't more. Your species has more than earned its place in the spectres. Still, the Council decides what it decides. We're just their sword arm," the salarian smiled slightly, nodding to the lockers, "You know your task, then?"

Kaidan nodded, turning around to continue readying his armor, "Emergency Protocol Code Ten. In the event of a major emergency in where the Citadel comes under attack, a terrorist assault whether it be chemical, biological, psychological or an attempted assassination plot, foreign party invasion, or any threat to the Council's lives is presented, or in the event that Citadel Security has been crippled and is unable to respond effectively, the Special Tactics and Recon branch are to abandon all present duties and commit their sole purpose to ensuring the survival of the Council."

Jondam creased his lips in impression, "So you've read the Emergency Protocols then. Almost clause for clause, as well," he moved over and nodded, moving over to his own personal locker and retrieving what looked to be a second omni-tool, attaching to his second wrist, "Of course, that requires finding them first. Luckily for us, the whereabouts of the Council is always known."

Just as he finished latching on his armor and picked up his...helmet, of sorts, which was really just a Recon helmet eye piece, he frowned, and turned to face Bau, "What do you mean?"

"So you haven't read all of EP10, then," the salarian tsked, "At the last paragraph, its explicitly detailed that a tracker is to be placed into a councilor's occupational omni-tool when they are voted in or appointed. This tracker is only accessible by all members of the Spectres, the Executor and a few choice C-Sec high-ups. In the event of this such emergency, we'd need to be able to locate the Council quickly. These trackers allow this to happen; and according to mine..." the salarian made a show of checking his omni-tool before shutting it off, closing his locker as he strapped a second Locust SMG to his other hip, "They are currently congregated in the Council Chambers; then C-Sec will be following their orders to the letter. Per their own orders, they are to assemble the councilors there and, once secured, move them to the Presidium, huddle them in an armoured kodiak, and take them to the siege bunker. We'll need to meet them there for this to succeed."

He nodded, strapping the eye piece around his head and moving to retrieve whatever weapons lay inside. He found an assault rifle, and a good model too; a Saber automatic marksman rifle. He let it holster on his chest temporarily as he moved inside and recovered a secondary weapon; a specially made DXR-120D Precision Sniper Rifle, built for pinpoint accuracy, rapid takedowns and had a secondary firing mode that heated up the round into a small, contained fireball; essentially a less evolved version of the carnage many marines used. It was the weapon of an assassin. And he was no assassin. This weapon was for those graceful with it, and he knew only one turian who could do that. He quickly moved to return it, electing to just keep his rifle.

"Actually," came a familiar, raspy voice, "That weapon will do just fine for my needs."

He almost jumped on the spot, as did Bau, both moving in tandem, weapons drawn as they lingered on the lone form behind them who seemed to stand there, like an echoing shadow.

The drell himself seemed unfazed by the reaction, actually looking quite used to it. His hands were clasped behind his back, his grey coat straight and looking very official. The drell smiled at him, looking to be waiting. And Kaidan could only chuckle, lowering his rifle as he turned to Bau, "Lower your weapon Bau, he's a friend."

Bau nodded and lowered his weapon, taking the human's word. Kaidan turned back grabbing the sniper rifle, "Still, I don't think you needed to sneak up on us like that, Thane."

"My apologies," the drell humbly replied, the master assassin taking the proferred sniper rifle and holstering it with fluid ease.

"You can't just give him that," Bau pointed out, locking his locker, "That's Spectre-grade equipment. Only we're permitted access to it."

"Trust me, its of alot more use to him than me," Kaidan replied curtly, nodding to Thane.

"How did you get in here?" Bau continued his interrogation, looking doubtful of the drell's intentions, "You have to be a Spectre to get in here."

Thane turned to him, regarding him calmly, "Since my first return to the Citadel a year ago, I scouted out key points in this area. I noticed at least nine different entry points into this room, six of which required stealth, the other three requiring nothing but a single gram of C7."

Seeing the confusion of Bau's face, he decided to address the elephant in the room, "Jondam Bau, this is Thane Krios. Thane Krios, Jondam Bau."

"Ah," Bau replied, coming to an epiphany, "I have heard of you. A pleasure to meet your acquitance, Mr. Krios. How odd we should meet under such circumstances."

"The pleasure is mine, Spectre," Thane replied politely, always courteous and never too talkative, "Although, my being here is only out of a shared concern over a friend."

Kaidan raised an eyebrow at that, "Why are you here, Thane? Did you follow me?"

Thane shook his head, "Captain Shepard has tasked me with being your protector. You were incapacitated and vulnerable. Shepard feared that Cerberus would take advantage of this. I offered to protect you. I am merely following his request out of mutual concern."

"Thanks Thane, but I'm fine," Kaidan replied, "But we wouldn't mind some backup on this. We need to reach the Council and safely escort them to the siege bunker."

Thane nodded, "This could become an issue given the Cerberus troop movements outside. They will likely storm the embassies soon, and the Council will be their priority."

"Which is why we need to beat them to the punch," Bau replied, "We should-" suddenly, his omni-tool beeped and the salarian accessed it, frowning. "No, cannot be right," he then looked up, "Just got reports of shuttle heading for Citadel Tower. Cerberus."

"What's odd about that?" Kaidan asked, readying his rifle as he moved for the door, "Of course Cerberus will try to take out the Council. We've established this already."

"Not the oddity," Bau stated as he followed behind him, "Origin, is. Classification meets that of Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate."

Kaidan froze in his tracks and he slowly turned around, eyes widening, "What? But how...I was on the Normandy! Shepard would not go back to Cerberus!"

"Cerberus rebuilt the Normandy," Thane observed, frowning himself, "It is more than likely they had the resources to rebuild a second one...one that served their own needs. If this is true, this could pose a problem strategically."

"Also another problem," Bau sounded almost panicked this time as he looked at his omni-tool, the three of them managing to enter the main office as they left the armoury, "Concerns the Council. C-Sec reports that all councilors secured except one. Councilor Valern is missing."

Kaidan cursed his luck, almost punching the wall, "Damn it! Do they know where he is?"

Bau gave a nod, Kaidan sighing in relief, "Last reported half an hour ago going to C-Sec Headquarters to speak with the Executor on a private matter. When asked, he said it had something to do with 'a security risk.'"

Kaidan exhaled heavily, shaking his head, "So you think he might still be at C-Sec HQ?"

"Its a possibility. But if Councilor Valern did survive, then he'll be hiding," Bau informed him, "C-Sec Headquarters was one of the first places that came under attack. C-Sec Academy won't be better off."

"Valern is a member of the Council, and him being alive is a top priority," he declared, hands on his hips as he looked between the three of them, "But there's the other three councilors who need escort."

"There will be no further need for debate on this topic," Thane declared, squaring his shoulders and twisting his neck as it cracked, "I will go to C-Sec Headquarters and extract the salarian councilor."

"Are you sure, Thane?" Kaidan asked, wide-eyed, "That place will be overrun with Cerberus."

An explosion sounded outside, rocking the structure they were in. The drell barely seemed to notice, merely nodding, "Yes. You do not need protection, and you have your duty to the Council. I will locate Councilor Valern and escort him safely to the siege bunker. Any Cerberus troops in the way I'll deal with...accordingly. However, being an assassin, I will likely evade them. I wish to avoid direct combat as much as possible."

"Good thinking," Bau nodded, turning to Kaidan as he turned off his omni-tool, "Then we are decided. Spectre Alenko and I will head to the Citadel Tower to escort the rest of the Council while Mr. Krios rescues Valern. We must move quickly if we are to beat Cerberus to the tower."

Kaidan gave a swift nod, turning to Thane, who was already fiddling with an air vent, "See you again soon, Thane. And thanks for the...protection."

The drell smiled alittle, "You need thank someone for something that is freely given," and with that, the drell disappeared inside the vent, gone in an instant.

"An interesting man," Bau noted, "Very humble. A man of his skills shouldn't have wasted his life on being an assassin."

Kaidan sighed, keeping his rifle close to his chest as the two spectres made for the entrance, "Yeah, well sometimes people get in bed with the wrong occupation."

"That is true," Bau replied, keying his crendentials to open the door. Once it was open, they moved out into the corridor, and made a quick scan; the area was clear, long evacuated of civilians and empty of any hostile activity. But that would soon change. They moved forward, weapons still at the ready, and keeping the area ahead of them clear in their vision.

It was a situation like this that Kaidan's heartbeat quickened, and he realized something.  _Shit, Rahna! She would have been on her way to the hospital when the attack started! Please let her be alright..._ the marine shook the thought away as he proceeded. Rahna was a tough girl; Conatix had made them that way. But if Cerberus hurt her...he didn't want to know what he'd do to them.

 _So this is what love is like..._ Kaidan sighed, the prospect frightening him as the two of them moved through the door and exited onto the Presidium, moving over to the nearest skycar.  _A pity I couldn't spend it with Ash, but I have Rahna now...and I'm not going to let her go like I did Ashley._ Ashley had died before they could official declare their feelings for each other, but with Rahna...he hadn't made that mistake. Rahna knew where the two of them stood.  _And I won't let anyone hurt her. Noone._

He looked up, seeing thew Presidium on fire as shuttles in gold and white raced by, carrying more squads of hostile, pro-human soldiers. Gunships bombarded the area and shot down any C-Sec support shuttles, Cerberus troops and C-Sec SWAT teams engaging in combat in the streets. Blazes of orange trailed into the sky, fires and smoke clouding the once beautiful Presidium. It was like the Battle of the Citadel all over again.

_Accept back then, the power had switched off and it had been pitch black except for the fires. Cerberus hasn't gotten that far yet._

Kaidan knew it would only get worse if help didn't arrive soon.

And despite the futility of it, he was hoping Shepard and the Normandy were on their way.

Soon, preferrably.

**"Some called it the Second Battle of the Citadel. Most of us called it the Citadel Siege. The day Cerberus decided to make a move."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"A failed invasion, obviously."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"It could have succeeded if we hadn't gotten there in time. Let's just say that Cerberus' timing was a bit inconvenient, for them at least."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"The Illusive Man was really fighting to get noticed."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Yeah. We won the battle that day, but at a terrible cost. A cost that seemed to be getting more and more common."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**I know this chapter took awhile, but...oh, go have a sook! I've told you time and time again that I've got commitments just like the next guy! And with this behemoth out of the way, we are now officially in Priority: Citadel II territory. This chapter will be, surprise, surprise, another two-parter (which I'm sure you guys are getting sick of), but I'll make sure that the two parts are worth it. You know me; I'm not one to follow the linear path, at least not in Holocaust!** _

_**And yes, the Deliverance will have a major impact on the story near the end; that shit going to be epic! But let's focus on the here and now; Citadel! Gotcha! And yes, Tali will have a more major part of this story; its just taking me awhile to get on with it.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	32. Coup D'etat, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy arrives at the Citadel to find it under Cerberus attack: Shepard and the squad deploys on the ground to ascertain the situation. Captured by Cerberus, Conrad Verner makes a costly decision in the name of freedom.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:**

**COUP D'ETAT PART ONE**

_June 22, 2186_

_1214 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Moving into dock with the Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI._

"Try it again," Marcus ordered, his arms crossed along his broad chest and frowning.

Joker sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned on his seat, "You realize this has been like...the sixth hail, right? Noone's picking up."

"Just do it Joker," the spectre practically growled, glaring at the pilot, "I don't want us to jumping conclusions."

"It isn't jumping when you've hailed six friggin times," the pilot then preemptively held his hands up in defense, typing on the console, as for the sixth time he accentuated, he brought up the comms and attempted to call C-Sec Traffic Control, "I repeat again, Citadel Control, this is SSV Normandy, are we cleared to descend? Could someone respond before I bust a kneecap?"

Again, for the sixth time he reminded himself, there was no response. Just silence over the comm. But this time, the disconnection was initiated  _on the other end._

Joker widened his eyes, looking up at him, "They heard us. Which means someone is there, and there are deliberately ignoring us! Bastards! Just because I didn't pay my rent doesn't give them the right to-"

"Joker, just shut up for a second," Marcus ordered, uncrossing his arms as he clasped his hands behind his back and moved over to EDI's seat, gripping the back of it, "EDI, could you run a scan of the signal? Everything about this is just...wrong."

They had spent the past seven minutes trying to get through, but as had been displayed, there had been no response on the other end; they weren't being blocked, because there was no static, so something had to be going on. Citadel Security wouldn't just ignore them. They were a registered warship, they made returns to the station almost weekly, so they were bound to be ontop of C-Sec's list of 'inbounds' by this point. So something else was going on. It couldn't be Reapers; they were powerful, but anything but subtle, not that they needed to be. No, something else. A terrorist attacks. That narrowed it down to two suspects.

Indoctrinated traitors or Cerberus. Mercs didn't have the power to take on the C-Sec Academy, and neither did militias, so it had to be those two.

"Yes, Shepard," EDI replied, her form typing at the console infront of her in a whir of movement. When she was finished, the data ran along her console, the AI absorbing it in mere seconds, "I have found no anomalies in the transmission that run out of normal parameters. It is not being jammed, tampered with or manipulated in any fashion."

He bit his lower lip, the captain beginning to pace the neck, seemingly mumbling to himself.  _I don't know what's going on down there, and I hate not knowing._ He stopped, turning to Joker, "Bring us in closer; I want a visual on the Citadel, I want to know what's going on. EDI, contact Liara and link her to your console," he ordered, and they executed their tasks, Joker bringing the Normandy closer while engaging the stealth drive for safety, EDI sending a transmission request to Liara in her quarters. The pilot couldn't help but snatch peaks at her form, cursing at himself as she did so.  _Damn it, EDI's a robot! No matter how much of a damn sexy, hot body she-damn it, there we go again! Clear thoughts!_

Liara's voice through EDI's comm was enough to assuage his thoughts, "You wanted me, Shepard?"

"Liara," he immediately addressed, leaning over EDI's console and speaking to Liara as he did, "Have you received any messages or vid-mail from your agents on the Citadel?"

The asari frowned, shaking her head, "No, should I have?"

"Damn it," he grumbled, shaking his head as he met the Shadow Broker's eyes, her eyes deepening in their frown, "We can't seem to contact Citadel Control and I think something else might have happened."

The asari nodded, her eyes widening, "Should I get suited up?"

He considered this for a moment and then contemplated the situation they were in. A potential terrorist attack or invasion was taking place. It wasn't a malfunction, because they would have backups running to avoid a traffic disaster, so that wasn't it. He had thought the Citadel Fleet being at the relay was odd, and this now seemed to convince him; someone had purposely led the fleet away to launch this assault, to ensure it couldn't assist in repelling them, which were the tactics of a general trying to make this a ground war; which definitely confirmed his thoughts of an invasion. It wasn't Reapers as there was no major presence of them. Which meant it had to be...

"Ah...Shepard," Joker sighed, the spectre turning to the pilot at his console who just lay his head on his fist, leaning on the chair arm, "I think I've found the source of our communications problem. It seems our ol' buddy TIM wants a meeting with us. He was even kind enough to bring a whole damn fleet with him."

"Put it on screen," he ordered, the declaration confirming his thoughts as he turned to Liara, "Get down to the shuttle bay and suit up, Liara. This could be a combat drop," the asari nodded and disengaged the comm, Marcus cracking his neck as he turned to the cockpit windows, only to see a large, holographic vidscreen propped up infront of it.

Joker's description was right on the money; where usually a mixture of asari, turian, salarian and human warships would be floating around with the Destiny Ascension at their core, was now a fleet of Cerberus combat vessels, with a dreadnought lazily sitting on its broadside right infront of the Citadel Tower, a carrier at its flank and numerous frigates, cruisers, destroyers and the lot flying around it, barring anyone from entrance. Cerberus must have lured away the defense fleet and snuck in the back door.  _Tenacious bastards, and they've got audacity. I didn't think the Illusive Man would resort to a full-blown invasion of the Citadel. That's just crazy. What the hell does he hope to achieve with that?_

_Because he's indoctrinated. He's simply doing what the Reapers ordered him to do; cause dissent and ruin our efforts to win the war._

_Wasn't that theory pretty much scattered to the win after Noveria, though? Reaper troops_ _**attacked** _ _Cerberus, for God sake! That's alot of evidence!_

_Is it really? All of this just doesn't fit! I know he's indoctrinated, but Noveria has my mind divided! Why would Harbinger attack his own agents? Sovereign ordered the geth to attack Saren...what am I missing here!_

He growled lowly, annoyed by the whole situation, "He just doesn't know when to fuck off. Here we are, trying to fight a war, and this asshole pops up every once and a while to cause us grief. Its starting to piss me off, more so than usual."

Joker looked up at him, grinning, "Does that mean we can go to his base and kill him now? Send a thanix cannon up his ass and send him where the sunshine don't go?"

He smiled alittle at that, finding some genuine amusement in the overall comment, "Oh, don't I wish I could. And even if we did, I wouldn't go straight to the throat. I've got a score to settle with Leng."  _Or two. Shala's husband and Jacob died at his hands. That's just one more bone I get to break in his body before I flay him alive and kill him as he pleas for merc-_

He shook that thought away, shocked by how violent it had gotten.  _Christ Marcus, get a grip. You're not a goddamn barbarian._ He couldn't deny how tantalizing the thought was, however.  _The shit Leng is making me think...you're up there with Harbinger, buddy. At this point, I've got two assholes I really want dead._ He wondered how many more friends would die at that bastard's hand before he finally met his blade.  _No, no more. I will kill Leng before he takes one more life._

"So what, then?" Joker asked, "Combat insertion?"

Marcus nodded, "We can't do much up here without potentially damaging the Citadel and killing innocent people. And even if we could fire the thanix cannon...we're one ship against a whole fleet, and the Citadel Fleet, again, can't do anything unless they're away from the Citadel. No...Cortez can take us down and we can find out what's going on."  _One trip to Tuchanka, and look what happens..._ Thoughts of Tuchanka brought up Mordin again, and he quickly squashed those, not letting them impede his ability.  _I can't afford to think of that right now._

"Sounds like a great plan," Joker sarcastically remarked, "If there were a point to it. Shouldn't we just wait here and send a message to Hackett? You know, call for damn backup?"

He frowned at the pilot's attitude, but simply shrugged instead of responding, "Too much time would be wasted and the Council could be dead by then, or numerous innocent people. And as much as I dislike the Council, I need them very much alive if I'm going to persuade them. You can't convince corpses. They tend not to hear you."

"Damn, I never knew that," Joker dryly replied, exhaling as he rubbed his temple, "So deployment then. But shouldn't we call for backup anyway? We're talking a massive invasion of the whole damn Citadel; that's kilometers of space station. You can't tell me you plan to fight them off with just yourself and C-Sec."

He thought about this for a second but came up with an idea that could appease both sides, "Yes. While my squad deploys and quickly secures the Council, I want you to send Hackett over the QEC; tell him to send whatever ships and troops he can to the Citadel. Tell them its under attack by Cerberus and requires immediate assistance."

"And may he send rachni," Joker jested, beginning to type at his console as he sent a message to Cortez. Suddenly however, he stopped, as if suddenly realizing something. He turned to look up at Marcus, a grin across his face, "Wasn't Aralakh Company supposed to be coming to the Citadel?"

This time, Marcus did smile, "Indeed they were. Be sure to tell them what's happening. I'm sure Grunt would like nothing more than to just storm in."

"No shit. That cannonball would probably board that dreadnought and gut it inside and out and win the whole battle for us," the pilot chuckled, turning back in his seat as he finished his previous task, "Still, wouldn't hurt for us to weaken them up alittle. I'm sending a message to Cortez to get the shuttle prepped. You should probably head down there."

He nodded, "Copy that, I'll-"

"Captain," EDI immediately interrupted, swiping at her terminals, the AI frowning, which seemed to be a new feature for the synthetic, "I am picking up a distress signal. It is weak and on a limited short-band transmission; it has been transmitted across the comm network. Cerberus will likely be working to block it. It is transmitting from a precinct on the Presidium."

"Let's hear it, EDI," he ordered, face creasing in curiosity and came to stand beside Joker's seat, both of them listening intently.  _Who would risk transmitting with Cerberus troops all around them? They'd give away their position._

"This is Commander Bailey of the 17th Shalta Precinct of the Citadel!" the voice rang out, Marcus recognizing instantly, "This is an urgent message to any who can receive this! I don't have much time, so I'll cut to the chase! The Citadel is under attack! They've taken C-Sec Headquarters, the Presidium is under siege, and Shalta Ward has fallen! We can't coordinate defense properly and are in need of immediate assistance! Send backup, now! Get the fleet down here! We're going under the assumption that the Council is safe! Whatever you do, ensure their survival at all costs! If they fall, the Citadel falls! I repeat, if they-" as slapped across the face, Bailey's voice suddenly stopped. He frowned, turning to EDI.

"What just happened?" he demanded. Bailey was alive, so that was good. But his lack of knowledge on the Council's situation was quite alarming.

"Cerberus has cut the connection. However, short-band communication lingers when transmitted through the network; however, it will last no longer than five minutes."

The spectre nodded, keying his omni-tool as he contacted Garrus. Within moments, Garrus' face turned up on the screen, looking bewildered. But he quickly sobered when he saw the human, "Oh, Marcus. Ah...is there something I can do you for?"

"Yes. I'll cut it short, but Cerberus is invading the Citadel and we're about to deploy," he stated, "Grab your stuff and get down to the shuttle bay. Liara's already there, but you'd best get everyone else," he turned to the AI on the right side, "You too EDI; you're coming down with us. Full squad for this."  _Still, we're down two people now; Wrex and Grunt really formed the heavies of the group. Still, we'll do without them. I did so on Mars, and Menae, so I can do it here._

"Holy shit," Garrus cursed, eyes widening, "What about Victus? What are we going to tell him?"

"I'll be sure to ask him, but I doubt he'll mind. He's been on the Normandy this long; I'm sure he can last a bit longer," he nodded, "I'll see you down there, Garrus. Shepard out."

His omni-tool deactivated, the man slapping his pilot's chair, "Get us in a bit closer, Joker. Don't want to make Cortez work for it now, do we?"

The pilot coughed, "Yeah, sure. Not like Cortez actually  _knows_ what he's doing."

Marcus simply grinned, his voice a mumble, "Oh trust me, I know he does. Its your abilities coming into question."

"I've been judged by the guy who can't even drive a mako properly," Joker retorted, shooting him a glare, "I'm sorry if I feel like I'm being judged for evil by the devil. And don't even  _try_ to refute your bad driving. You know as well as I do that you can't drive for shit."

"Captain," EDI broke their conversation again, both of them turning to the AI.

"Yes, EDI?"

The AI turned to him for the first time since he entered the cockpit, eyes looking to be portraying...confusion, "I have detected the presence of a stealth drive being activated. It had a Cerberus IFF."

He frowned, a look of concern spreading across his face, "Cerberus has more stealth ships? This couldn't get much worse, could it?"

"That attitude is what causes more problems," Joker deadpanned, "Still, I suppose Cerberus having their own stealth systems is pretty creepy. Next you'll be telling me that they built a second Normandy and its been stalking us the whole time."

"Still, it won't be bothering us. Having a stealth drive doesn't mean they can detect stealth drives," he declared, "We'll deploy as per declared. Joker, get on that transmission. Inform the Citadel Fleet what's going on, tell them to await reinforcements. EDI, get working on ideas for luring the enemy fleet away. They can't deploy backup if Cerberus is blockading them."

"So you're just going in without a plan?" Joker asked, noting that EDI had since left, her purple pawn appearing on the pedestal on his left to address Marcus, "Sounds pretty ordinary."

"War hasn't changed our tactics one bit," the captain joked back, slapping his chair one more time before moving to walk down the flight deck, "We'll talk again soon, Joker. Once we've kicked Cerberus off the Citadel."

The pilot chuckled, "Have fun!"

But it wouldn't be fun. Cerberus was likely entrenched, had civilians as hostages and likely had C-Sec crippled. It would literally just be Marcus and his squad against an entire Cerberus ground army. They were hopelessly outnumbered, and reinforcements couldn't arrive until that fleet was dealt with. So until then, they were a single squad against the collective might of a supersoldier force.

Nothing they couldn't handle, of course.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1229 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance SR-1, Cerberus Blockade In Orbit of the Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Commander Armistan Banes, Flight Lieutenant Elena Flores._

When they said he got to be second-in-command of a ship just like the Normandy, he really didn't think the Illusive Man was being serious. But once again, he had underestimated the efficiency of their illustrious leader, and his ability to deliver on his promises. The Deliverance was nothing short of a masterpiece in vessel design, and with the technology they sported, had a real chance at beating Shepard, the Normandy and his multi-racial crew.

Armistan Banes had gotten to see the designs of the Normandy, and its sister ship was pretty much exactly the same, exterior wise and interior wise. The only real changes were minor, so really, they were virtually identical, ableit with a few improvements in the Deliverance's design to keep up with modern technology.

The cockpit remained the same, as did the general location of the airlock and flight deck. The CIC was slightly wider and the CIC was the same. The armoury was located on the right side, with the Tech Lab on the left. Their current armourer was First Lieutenant Hal McCann, and one of Cerberus' best, and most well-versed, scientific professionals, Inali Renata, worked in the Tech Lab as head of the ship's science team. Cerberus' best ship required its best people.

The Crew Deck was exactly the same; a Port and Starboard Observation deck, a crew quarters and life support, as well as an elevator connecting the decks. His quarters were located where Miranda Lawson's would have been on the same deck, and the medical bay was located opposite side, a mess hall in the middle, a sleeper pod deck cutting down the middle and a gunnery control station at the end.

The fourth deck was Engineering. Garbage Disposal on the right side, a cargo port to the left, and the main engineering area with a lower maintenance deck behind it all. On the fifth and final deck was the Shuttle Bay, where three kodiaks were situated, as well as a single Mantis gunship and a reconstructed M44 Hammerhead, rebuilt from the same specifications that had been on the Normandy.

In charge of medical was Doctor Walter Waycross, the man being pulled from his research on alien anatomy to work as the ship's doctor. He was a tad sick-minded, and given a chance, would dissect a turian or elcor and discover their inner workings. He close enough to the mad scientist stereotype that Banes would keep his eye on him.

When he wasn't in command of the ship's security detail, Major Randall Ezno was in charge of gunnery control. The soldier had been a 'manhunter' for Cerberus a few years ago and had been heavily implanted along with the standard assault trooper; he had been tasked with hunting down alien specimens for study, or simply locating and picking up wanted Cerberus targets. He had actually been the one who Liara T'Soni had given Shepard's body too, the man being ecstatic at the job, despite keeping it behind a vision of calm. The man was stoic most of the time, barely showed any emotion, and was largely a hardass; the only time he ever spoke more than four words to someone was when he was leading a squad or unit. Otherwise, he was the very opposite of talkative.

Their chief engineer was a fantastic little man named Tyrone Rawlings. He had quite the charisma; a huge heard that lined the sides of his face and covered his chin in thick, bushy hair, piercing blue eyes and skin that was dark enough to be going black, but not quite black, and not white either. He was a bit...weak. The man was not a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but if you tried to challenge him to a wrestling match or even gave him a gun, the man would squeal like a little girl. Don't let the beard deceive you; Tyrone was no brother in arms. He was no inspiring warrior.  _When I think about it, I'd rather them just flash clone Tali'Zorah and have her on the ship. At least then she can fight as well._

The top deck belonged solely to the Captain's Quarters, where the delightful Captain Leng lived. The overall specs were identical to that of the Normandy, or so Leng had said, having barely spoken to Banes. He couldn't claim to be a fantastic captain; the guy was an absolute cunt, about as good at leadership as a second-rate rookie and wasn't fit for the rank of captain. It was a wonder why the Illusive Man hadn't put Banes in charge; he at least had command experience.  _But nope. What reward do I get for my service? To be bumped down a rank and hand over my rightful command to a dickhead with a sword._ Their 'captain' hadn't even bothered staying onboard to actually command his ship; he had gone down to the Citadel to take care of the Council.  _Which is his job in the first place. Which just confuses me; why have a man who never captains the ship, captain the ship? I don't see the logic there._

Of course, the Normandy clone would not be the same without its own AI. In this case, an AI brought back from the dead...well, from destruction.

While not actually the same, given that the real one was irretrievable, Eva was almost exactly the same as the previous one, simply lacking a body this time round, now serving as the Deliverance's version of EDI. She did not question orders, and she tended to act more like a VI at times than a truly self-aware AI, but she was incredibly efficient; her cyber warfare suites were top-notch, and she could react much faster than any crew member onboard. She was the perfect match for EDI.

The only thing they couldn't match was the crew. That was Armistan Banes' main thought as he sighed, slouching back in the command chair as he blankly looked through the main viewscreen.  _Elena Flores is a good pilot, but I've read Moreau's dossier; the guy is the best damn pilot in the Alliance fleet, and that's not even an exaggeration; son of a bitch has pulled so many damn maneveurs that he could probably cause most ship captains to go dizzy. Eva may be able to correct that, but the Normandy as their own AI too. So they have us beat in that department._

 _And then they have Shepard and his squad; what do we have? Supersoldiers? A squad of Leng's favourite phantoms? Leng's good, but against Shepard?_ That's what the Illusive Man didn't seem to understand. You can copy the Normandy, but you can't copy its crew.

"Anything to report?" Banes' asked for the fourth time in an hour, finding himself with very little to do. They had engaged stealth mode twelve minutes ago, and since then nothing had engaged them; not that they could, being in the middle of Terrence's entire fleet and practically hovering right over the Romulus Ward. Asking for status reports was the best he could do to pass the time.

Eva replied, her voice monotone but managing to sound attractive at the same time. That thought always made his eyes roll.  _The programmers must think they're being so droll when they do that. Do they get off to that shit?_ Maybe they did, and that thought disturbed him the most, "Nothing new is occurring. Admiral Terrence has not issued any new orders. All ships are remaining in position. No new communications from the Illusive Man. Nothing has occurred on the Citadel to warrant concern. Locating the Council has been delayed but is proceeding. Operation: Deathstroke continues along expected parameters. Nothing new to report."

He nodded, yawning into his hand as he sighed, "Thank you, Eva."

"You are welcome, Commander Banes," the AI responded, "Logging you-processing. New report. Do you wish to hear it?"

His half-lidded eyes contemplated sleep, his mind slowly caving under the peer pressure when he heard Eva's words, jolting back into energetic mode, eyes wide as he came to stand, frowning, "What is it?"

"Communications from the 63rd Infantry Battalion stationed around the Presidium 4th Precinct," Eva reported, "They have reported engagement with a hostile force and have reported heavy casualities. They are dispatching reinforcements to investigate the disturbance."

"Heavy casualities? Didn't they have an entire platoon in that area? What C-Sec force could they muster to challenge that? They're too disorganized," he pondered, hands on his hips in confusion, "Can they verify the enemy force? Any sort of identification? Any sign of affiliation? They can't be C-Sec or militia, surely."

"Wait one moment," Eva replied simply, and the cockpit was filled with silence for 30 seconds before Eva replied, "The battalion commander received reports from the platoon sergeant that they were able to identify a single asari in a labcoat, a turian with blue armor and a sniper rifle, two Alliance marines, one of them an N7, a black-hooded human female and one heavily built man in Terminus Assault Armor who appeared to be their leader. They've relayed the report and have a theory on their identity, but cannot verify."

"Give it to me Eva," Banes' deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest, as he paced the deck, "Who do they think it-" suddenly, his omni-tool opened and data began to file through. His frown quickly turned into a sigh however as he turned to Eva's hologram; a blue cube, "I didn't mean literally 'give it to me,' Eva. Its a figure of speech. Just tell me the damn theory."

"I apologize for lack of understanding. I will add this to my list of objectifications and human mannerisms to understand for the future," the AI drolly replied, before speaking again, "They believe it is Captain Shepard, sir."

He widened his eyes and snorted, shaking his head as he turned to face the AI fully, "I think we'd know if the Normandy turned up...on our...doorstep..."  _Unless their stealth drive is active, which in other words means they could be sitting right ontop of us and we won't even know. Hell, they could be calling for reinforcements at this very moment! Shit! And if Shepard is on the Citadel...this could complicate and delay the operation!_

"That theory makes sense," Flores spoke up from the pilot's chair, her shoulder length red hair shuffling as she turned to him, "The asari would then match T'Soni, the turian being Vakarian, the N7 would be Keeling, the marine Vega, the black-hooded girl would possibly be Goto. With this in mind, I think its obvious what we're dealing with here."

"Sound the General's Quarters," Banes ordered, dropping into his seat, "Eva, alert Fleet Admiral Terrence of what's happened! I think we're about to have the Citadel Fleet and then some descending upon us; best be ready," he growled, turning to the viewscreen and then realizing something.  _They're out there somewhere...and they won't know we're here..._ it would be like a game of cat and mouse, but this time, it was mouse and mouse, both looking for each other.

He turned to Flores, "Pilot, coordinate with Eva and find me the Normandy. I think its time we played our hand and showed them they aren't kingpin anymore."

She widened her eyes, turning to the commander, "But sir, the captain ordered us to stay put. Said he'd need us for extraction."

 _If that fuckwit wants to treat this ship as a dropship, then we might as well let Shepard have him. But I'm not letting this vessel's abilities go to waste just so that moron can have the assurance of a get-away car._ "I'm sure Captain Leng wouldn't mind if we paid the enemy a visit. Finally show them that they aren't as untouchable as they may think. Keep the stealth drive active and see if we can find them, let's move it, people."

And so the game was on.

It was only a matter of who would win.

This thought rang through Banes' head even as the Deliverance's weapons roared to life, proppelling the ship forward to meet with the enemy.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1232 hours._

_Personnel Parking Lot, 4th Presidium Precinct, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, EDI, Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

"Wrong answer."

The back of the assault trooper's head slammed back into the ground again, helmet rattling as Marcus held him firm with gritted teeth, practically hissing through them as he stared through the emotionless slit of his own helmet at the man, Garrus looming over him while the rest of his squad covered the exits around them. They stood on the edge of the landing platform; a 120 foot drop laying below them.

"I won't ask again," he snarled, the soldier's synthetic groaning barely heard, "Why is Cerberus here? What the hell does the Illusive Man have to gain from this and  _where_ is  _Kai Leng_?"

"Fuck...you..." the soldier groaned, "You'll just have...to...kill me..."

The spectre standing over him let go of his head as he loomed, the light blocked by his helme, a bitter laugh leaving his lips that even drew Garrus' attention. The man looked back down at him, cocking his head as if curious about the pitiful creature below him. In an instant, he drew his claymore and took aim, "Kill you? Who said anything about killing you? No, I think you misheard," his finger began to squeeze the trigger, "I didn't say I'd kill you if you didn't answer my questions, I said I'd make you  _wish_ for death."

His weapon coughed, the shotgun roaring as the high velocity shell totally razed the assault trooper's kneecap, a great explosion of red blood, shredded armor and pale-white bone fragmenting the area around the sight, and causing the trooper to scream. Not done yet, he turned to the other leg and fired again, blasting off his other leg. He repeated this with the man's arms, and when all was done, he was swimming in his own makeshift, bloody dam.

And instead of finishing him off, Marcus quickly holstered his weapon, motioning for his squad to follow him to the opposite end of the bay, leaving the dead trooper to bleed out. They froze for a moment at the cold treatment of the dead soldier (except Javik and EDI), but quickly moved to follow, but not before shooting a hesitant glance at the squirming soldier, unable to pass out due to the anti-pain stimulators running through his body, letting his blood just pour from his body on the ground in a never ending stream until he would eventually bleed out.

The entire parking lot had been a battlefield. As soon as Cortez had gotten them within view they had seen Bailey's men tackling with a Cerberus platoon attempting to push them back. By the time they were able to assist, most of the C-Sec men were dead, with only Bailey himself, who looked to be sitting and leaning against a wall, a single turian and four humans. Cerberus however had gotten a complete razing when Marcus' squad arrived.

Down they had gone, one by one, methodically and precisely, a just wrath being brought upon their transgression. Now, as the battle had ended, they walked past their corpses on the way to Bailey; two headless guardians, blood crusting on their shields and chestplate, legless, armless and shredded assault troopers, scorched centurions and reaved dragoons. In the span of a couple of minutes, Shepard's squad had completely lay waste to the enemy force, whereas Bailey's men were losing and had barely made a dent.  _Still, we won't be enough to take out the whole invasion force. That's what the backup is for. And even if we could, the fleet up there? If Cerberus can't have it, neither can we; they'll just bomb the station from orbit._

The sirens still rang throughout the station, loud and persistent, still warning people to get to safety. Even as they walked past, they saw an Avina terminal pop up, the asari-based Citadel VI speaking in its dull, monotone voice filled with information, "Civil unrest is reported within the Presidium and Shalta Ward. Attacks reported in Kikowani and Romulus Wards. For your own safety, please remain in your homes. This is not a drill. A state of emergency has been declared."

The squad ignored Avina as they moved up the steps to meet the wounded C-Sec party, Liara immediately moving over to offer some medi-gel to the injured turian, who looked to be trying to cover a hole in his side. While his squad was tending them, Marcus approached Bailey, who simply looked up at him, shifting as he cradled his leg, smiling slightly.

"You going to be alright Bailey?" he asked, shifting in his armor to crouch as comfortably as possible next to the man, "Do you need medical attention?"

The man snorted, shrugging as he did, "Its not as bad as it may look. Bastards got me in the back of the leg, but aside from that, I'm sunshine. But its about time some cavalry got here. We were getting our asses kicked until you showed up."

"What about the Council?" he asked, "Are they still alive? Where are they?"

Bailey groaned, motioning for a help up. The man did as requested, standing up and grabbing the man's hand as he pulled him to his feet. The commander managed to stand, but not without a bad limp on one side, groaning as he did from the pain. But he fought through it, like any soldier would, and responded in as collected a voice as possible, "If they followed Emergency Code Ten, then they'll be safe in the siege bunker by now. But with Cerberus all over the place...this was well planned, Shepard. They knew just where to hit us, when and how. They couldn't have known this without help from the inside...traitors."

"Or sleeper agents," Marcus added, nodding as he sighed, taking a look over the bloodied car park. Bailey was right; you simply couldn't pull off something like this without so major planning and manpower. The Citadel, for all intents and purposes, had been sold out, "But it isn't betrayal when they were never loyal to you to begin with. And we certainly can't allow them to continue this assault," he nodded to his squad motioning over to him, "We're going to try and continue towards C-Sec Headquarters. See if we can liberate it."

Bailey groaned, leaning his back against the wall behind him as he cradled his leg, applying medi-gel to it, "Please tell me you brought more than just this squad. I know you're a hero Shepard, but you're no miracle worker. Cleaning this station is going to take alot more than just your squad."

 _You know nothing, Bailey. I'm no hero._ "Don't worry, already been through that. My pilot has likely alerted the Citadel Fleet by this point, and has sent a message straight to UGC Headquarters; we can expect a fleet quite soon. Everyone knows we can't let the Citadel fall. But our worry now should be the Council and reestablishing communications. First things first, we need to retake C-Sec HQ with what we have. You know how we can do that?"

"Well, I'll give you the obvious and say its no easy job. The HQ building was one of the first places they attacked during the siege," Bailey pointed out, "Cerberus has got an entire battalion between us and that place. Saying it won't be a walk in the park is an understatement; little shits probably have snipers covering every entrance, and those damn Atlases will tear apart any skycar or shuttle we send, meaning we're limited to foot movement."

"My squad can handle whatever Cerberus throws at us. Do we know if Kai Leng is here?" he hurried asked, wanting to get to the point, calming himself down as he felt his breathing quicken.  _Get ahold of yourself. Securing C-Sec HQ and the Council is your top priority; worry about killing Leng later._

The man frowned, clearly confused, "I don't know who Leng is, but he must be someone I'm not going to like, if your face is any indication."

"Just a man who's long outlived his welcome," the spectre growled, shaking his head as he recollected his thoughts, burning down his hatred and tunnelling it into adrenaline and energy he could use, "But forget about that," he turned to his men, waving a hand at his men, "Will you and your officers be okay here?"

Bailey nodded, "Sure. We'll just go inside, seal the door, set up a choke point and take down anyone who tries to take us out. What will you do?"

Garrus' chuckle was his answer, the both of them turning to look at the turian who had his arms crossed, grinning, "Cut through their defenses and reclaim the headquarters building. Kick Cerberus out. Hopefully kill their commander along the way. We're above this sort've thing now."

"Fantastic," Bailey deadpanned, moving towards the door, motioning for his men to follow, with Marcus and his own not far behind, "I'm just glad you're here. Don't know what would've happened had you been a few hours late."

"It'll take awhile for Cerberus to fully take control of this station," Keeling observed, all of them moving through the door into what looked to be a reception area, a small desk situated in the middle with its terminal deactivated and the lettering 'Citadel Security' covering the wall behind it, "There's too much ground to cover for this to take a day. A week, at best, even with the force they have."

"They have a full corps at their disposal, lady," the turian named Rainus replied, moving slightly slower than the rest due to his chest wound, "Give them credit where its due. Four days, tops. Possibly three, if their fleet does any work."

 _A corps? Just where is the Illusive Man getting all his men from? Rejects from the Reaper concentration camps? Or does he kidnap people or abduct Alliance soldiers and force feed them implants?_ Just the sheer size of Cerberus' resources and sudden vastness of their military was starting to boggle Marcus' mind. Where was it all coming from?

It all lead to the same answer: The Reapers. But then Noveria contradicted that.  _Harbinger wouldn't attack his own agents. Unless..._

...Marcus' thoughts were totally derailed when he saw the mixture of red and blue dried blood smears across the floor, bullet holes potmarking the walls around them and a small flame crackling from a burst circuit on the wall. Two lights on either side flickered occassionally, and when he followed the blood smears, he found them lead to that of two dead C-Sec officers, both wearing normal uniform, entry wounds from Talon pistols deadon through their foreheads. And from the look of the wound, the shot had happened from behind.  _They weren't gunned down. They were executed._ Their lack of weapons and armor only completed this theory.

Commander Bailey quickly dragged himself around the desk, plopping himself down in the discarded chair as he powered up the terminal. Immediately, a password prompt appeared with the C-Sec insignia above it, and the officer immediately typed it in, Marcus watching as he rounded the desk as it signed in, opening the files within.

"Damn, the network's a mess," he groaned, slamming his hand on the unresponsive console, "Can't get a connection with anything. Cerberus must have control of the station's communications."

"Of course they do; first rule of taking control of a populated space station? Making sure it can't communicate," Liara stated, holstering her SMG as she helped one officer nurse his wounds, "Cerberus will have full control over all of it. Every single pivotal and crucial feature, its under their control. Communications, the docks, the Council Chambers, rapid transit, evacuation centers, everything. The whole lot. Cerberus is nothing, if not methodical and meticulous."

"You're telling me," Bailey growled, turning the terminal off as he failed to glean anything from it, "Well I'm sorry Shepard, but with the network down, I can't do squat. I'd switch to basic radioes, but these alien folk...they're all about the technology."

Marcus grinned, reaching into one of his pockets as he retrieved a 2010's style radio, tossing it to the man who deftly caught it, smiling at it, "See if you can patch into any channels through that. Maybe someone was smart and actually ignored regulations."

"What the hell are you doing with this?" Bailey asked, frowning at him, despite how grateful he was, "What does an N7 need with this?"

"They're standard issue, all marines come equipped with radios incase our hardsuit comms go down," Keeling replied, "The Alliance military is a resourceful bunch."

"And the turian military never thought of this?" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow at Garrus.

The turian held his hands up in defense, "Hey! We've never needed them before."

Marcus wasn't buying it, "If its primitive, it ain't useful, is what you mean to say. Funny how old tech  _can_ be useful afterall," he nodded to Bailey, "Just make sure you get some use out of it. Keeling and James have their own, so if you ever need to contact me, just patch into Channel 117 November, and we should pick up. But we'd better get moving if we want to take C-Sec HQ back," he was about to walk out, letting his shotgun pop from his hands and slide into his hands, when he turned back, "Your sure you'll be okay? You're all set up here?"

Bailey turned to face him, tapping something on his hip. Marcus saw, for the first time, a modified predator pistol with incendiary ammo strapped to his hip, and he also watched as the man grabbed a rifle from his back and feeded it onto his lap, the weapon looking like an avenger, but with a grey finish, and looking much more bulky. Marcus would recognize it from anywhere; an M-7 Lancer, a weapon that dated as far back as 2177. Even in this day and age, it was better than its successors, the M-8 Avenger and M-9 Usurper. To see a C-Sec officer with such a weapon was quite the surprise, given that many Alliance marines wouldn't see a Lancer in their lifetime.

"I'll tear Cerberus a new one if they try to come through that door," Bailey rasped, shouldering the weapon as he turned back to the desk, preparing to issue orders to his team, "You just worry about taking care of headquarters. We need to take it back."

He nodded, shouldering his claymore as his squad prepped to follow him, "Hold on tight, Bailey. This nightmare is going to be over soon."

"Over soon?" the man asked, chuckling bitterly, "Nope, this is merely a snapshot of the nightmare. Many more snapshots to go."

Marcus knew what he meant, and made no response. He merely turned and left, carefully stepping past the executed officers and making his way down the bloody corridor towards what looked to be an exit, his squad close behind him and ready for combat.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1240 hours._

_Reception Area, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Nurse Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, C-Sec Investigator Kolyat Krios._

Every nerve in her body shook with fear, with anxiety, with stress. Her bones rattled in response to the gunfire all around her, the constant muzzle flashing of Kolyat's SMG firing next to her clouding her vision like a haze. She steadied her breathing on a constant basis, but it would always build up again, a persistent bug that was wanting to stay where it was, rooted to the spot, just like her.

She cradled her Tempest SMG in her hands, crouched safely behind the overturned table she was using for cover, flinching almost every single time a shot pinged off the heavy metal. She had attempted to fire a few shots, but her hands had shook, and most of the shots had glanced over the enemy, who simply returned fire and she had to narrowly dodge their shots, the quarian lacking any form of kinetic shielding. A single shot could mean fatal death.

All around them C-Sec troopers were gathered, all in similiar positions; crouched behind flipped tables, pouring tremendous amounts of fire into the doorway in an attempt to keep Cerberus back. It was odd to Lia; the one time she had seen combat or warfare, she had been serving with Commander Shepard, who at the time had been an ally to Cerberus. And now here she was, expected to fight and kill those ex-allies.  _At least it isn't Reapers._

She hated herself for her inaction, because she knew now that Kolyat was left to man their side of the barricade, putting all the work load onto her drell boyfriend. She growled, trying to will herself to stand, but no matter what she did, her legs were unreponsive.

She was afraid. Afraid of dying, and afraid of taking life of any form. It...was unfathomable. Beyond her ability. Her comprehension.

She attempted to raise her weapon, but it suddenly felt heavy in her hands, like she was trying to pull up a concrete slab that had been cemented to the ground. Her teeth chattered, and she almost wanted to cry, but she would not allow herself to do that; she was a fully grown woman, and she had served on the Normandy itself; she would not show sorrow or fear. She couldn't. She had to get her act together or...

...Kolyat could die.

The man in question did not give her mind enough time to use that as motivation as he was suddenly crouched at her side, his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it, "Lia, look at me."

She looked at him, SMG finally slipping from her hands to fall to the ground, hitting with a barely audible clang, the firefight around them blocking it out. She felt her eyes water, but refused to let the tears flow, refused to sob like a little girl. A fully grown woman, she was, "Kolyat...w-what is i-it?"

"You're shaking," he noted, sympathy in his eyes as the fire from them doused alittle, "Look, I know you've...never killed before, but I hadn't either before this. I just need you-"

"I've killed before, Kolyat. Keelah, I served on the Normandy!" she growled, more to herself than him, "So I can't understand why I can't just pickup that weapon and help you protect the hospital!"

The drell held a hand for her to stop, pulling a grenade from his vest, one he had retrieved from a dead C-Sec officer, primed it and tossed it over the table, bringing his head down as it exploded, the cries of numerous assault troopers heard as they were shorn to bits. He turned back to her, gripping both her shoulders and turning her towards him, "Because you've been away from combat too long. That...or you're not made for it."

A gunshot pinged off the table, followed by another. Kolyat turned from her in that moment as he brought up his omni-blade just as the centurion in question crested the table, bringing his heavy rifle to bear. Instead, his helmet caved in as six inches of molten hot energy blade sliced through the metal, melted it and slammed into the man's face. The soldier went limp in an instant, red blood spitting from his helmet in a thick stream and onto Kolyat as the drell pulled back, omni-blade dissipating as he knelt back beside her.

She only looked at him, her shaking intensifying. She watched in horrendous detail as red droplets dripped down his face and chest, crimson life taken from one who once possessed it. It was a sign of death, a sign of one's life taken. She felt some drip down her visor, blood having spurted onto her veil, and in that moment, she just wanted to scream.  _Let this nightmare end...please let it end...please..._

"Look," he quickly picked up, slamming a fresh thermal clip into his SMG and slotting the chamber, "I'm not going to make you fight, Lia. I know you're scared; that's it, isn't it? You're scared and a killer isn't who you are. I understand that. But if you're not going to fight, you can at least help. Give me some tips; you've worked on humans. What part of the body hurts the most when I shoot it?"

She giggled at that, blushing slightly, "Well...I know one universal weakness we all have is...uh...well...between our legs."

"Not quite what I meant, Lia, but thanks," he grinned back, further deepening her blush, "I meant...where do I shoot to land a killer blow? I can't keep scoring headshots."

"The heart. Lungs. The thighs," she ticked off verbally, "There's also the belly. They bleed out faster when hit there."

"See?" he added, "You can be useful, Lia. You're not useless. My biological girl," he moved in and planted a kiss on her visor, stroking her cheek as he pulled away, placing his forehead against her mask, "Now just stay down and-"

"Kill the quarian!" came a shouted order, and Kolyat looked over her shoulder in panic as she too turned to see who had yelled it, panic seizing in her chest.

She hadn't even noticed herself snatch up her SMG and spin around, raising it as she did. Her first burst went wide, followed by her second, but her third split the man's nose in half, the back of the dragoon's head blasting open as the SMG round penetrated all the way in. His biotics dimmed and then died as he slumped, limp head slamming against the barricade before sliding fully onto his back, blood leaking from the entry wound and onto the sterile floor.

Her barrel smoking, Lia lowered her weapon, and realized she wasn't shaking anymore. She was still afraid, but killing...seemed less painful. Like she was used to it all of a sudden. It was then she reached a realization, turning to face a wide-eyed Kolyat.

"No," she began, gulping, "We're all perfectly able to kill, Kolyat. Only some of us have the audacity to become experts at it, and others...become used to it."

He sighed, looking at her for a moment. When he had finished, he reached a green hand into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular object, offering it to her with an open palm, "Its a kinetic barrier generator. Just strap it to your hip and prime it, and you'll be good to go. Just...please be careful. I don't want you to get hurt."

She nodded, taking the generator without hesitation and placing it in one of her hip pockets, priming it as it slid inside. It was a perfect fit, and she had to smile when she looked back up, tapping her visor against his forehead, "I will be, yol'tiya. But I'll be better with you here."

He smiled back, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, "Then let's go kick Cerberus from this station."

She returned his smile, and together, they stood back up, weapons raising as they did. A fresh wave of assault troopers backed by two combat engineers was pouring through, and she knew enough about tactics to know the engineers were the bigger threat. She steadied her hand and took aim at the nearest engineer, holding down the trigger as she watched burst after burst slam into shields. After the fifth burst however, she watched the sixth slam into armor and pierce flesh, a flash of crimson spilling from the man's opened gut, the man crying out as he aimed at Lia, his phalanx's blue laser dot hitting her mask.

She fired again, the shot piercing his hand and taking two fingers with it, pistol slipping from his hands and the shot flying wide, penetrating about two inches into the far wall. The engineer cradled his maimed hand, only for someone off to the side to finish him off, his head snapping to the left as a rifle shot pierced his cheek and exited through his right earlobe, chunks of his ear and gums coating the floor as he collapsed, dead.

She moved to deal with the second, but saw that Kolyat had dealt with that, and half the assault troopers. She shrugged, taking aim at another trooper and firing, first burst going wide from her intended vector, but not missing; instead, it hit the man's elbow, the force snapping it backwards as it snapped with an echoing crack. The trooper screamed, only to for Lia to take aim at his head and...send a shot straight through upper lip. He slumped forward, dead.

She crouched behind cover as a sudden horde of fire slammed into her shields, the quarian taking sometime to reload.  _I'm getting good at this. They'll make a soldier out of me yet._ That thought didn't exactly please her, however. Not as much as she thought it would, at least.

She yelped suddenly as she felt something roughly grab her ankle, squeezing painfully. She looked below to see a centurion, entire body from the waist down missing, grabbing onto her ankle, helmet off and glowing husk eyes glaring at her with malicious intent. Behind it was a thick river of blood; it must have dragged itself over here. No human could do that. But when she saw what that thing looked like... _that isn't human! It hasn't been for awhile..._

That's a husk.

She yelped again as it yanked at said ankle, trying to bring her down close enough for it to pummel her face. Instead, the ankle lashed forward in panic, kicking him in the face. She heard its nose break, but still it was persistent, its grip not loosening as it continued to pull, its immense strength overwhelming her own. She lashed out again, and again, never stopping. But it refused to let go.

"LET GO OF HER!" came Kolyat's snarl, and suddenly the centurion was off of her, tossed aside and a nice hole placed straight inbetween it eyes, red blood pooling across its pale cheeks.

She quickly crawled back behind the table, glancing at Kolyat as he put another round into the man's head just to be sure he was dead. He quickly entered a crouch and took the dead centurion's mattock, still strapped to his back and rolled over to her position, nodding at her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks," Lia replied curtly, nodding with reassurance, "At least, I will be," another shot pinged off the table, and she sighed.

"Assholes are making another push! Get ready!" one of the officers shouted over the radio, "Krios, Tamara, switch positions! Kolyat, we need SMG support over here, now! Cerberus are bringing in phantoms! We need you to suppress them with your SMG!"

Kolyat turned to her with a sad look but nodded, returning the comm signal, "Copy that. Switching," he turned to Lia and quickly brought her in for a hug, "Be careful, okay? I'll just be across from you."

"You too," she whispered back in his ear, not wanting him to go, but knowing they needed the drell's help and tried her best not to let her longing come out in her voice, "I can't lose you, not to Cerberus. Not to those bosh'tets."

He smiled grimly at her, cradling her head between his neck and shoulders, "You won't. When this is done, we'll both be alive and well, I promise." With that, he reluctantly pulled away, their gazes lingering on each other before Kolyat disappeared around the corner. At that exact moment, an asari female dressed in form-fitting ballistics came to her side, nodding politely as he pulled out her rifle, getting ready to repulse the next wave. Next to her, Lia prepared herself, bracing her SMG ontop of the wall.

"This is Tamara," the asari reported, "In position and ready, over."

"Copy that," the officer in command replied, "Remember people, keep your sights on the enemy and never take them off! Kill every last one of the-here they come! Open fire! Don't let them through that door!"

Tamara and Lia pretty much opened fire, both of them in sync. It wasn't long before the whole room joined in, and the hospital was once again filled with the sound of violence, death and war. Cerberus had brought it all to the Citadel's doorstep, with the intent of taking the space station from them and killing any aliens that stood in their way.

But they wouldn't get it without a fight. And Lia would fight. Not for the Citadel. But for herself. And Kolyat.

For them.

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_June 22, 2186_

_1237 hours._

_Docking Bay D24 Refugee Center, Shalta Docks, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Conrad Verner._

He had tried to be brave. Conrad Verner, a wuss and all-round idiot, tried to have courage. He had tried to live a normal life, to have friends, to work hard like every ordinary person did. He really tried. But when he met Commander Shepard three years ago on the Citadel, any specific want he had for an ordinary life had flown out the window to never be seen again; ever since then, he had wanted to be something bigger. More meaningful. He had grown obsessed with the man named Shepard; Lion of Elysium, Butcher of Torfan, Survivor of Akuze, Hero of the Citadel, Destroyer of the Collectors, Geth Slayer, and right about now, the last hope for the galaxy. The Bane of the Reapers. The man was a god in his own right; an idol to stand behind and worship, the ultimate soldier; a superhero, if he were to exaggerate. He had even tried to become a spectre, just like Shepard, long ago, but the very same man had talked him out of it.

After he heard about the man's death, he had mourned for the man, despite not knowing him very well; the galaxy had lost much by his loss. But then Conrad had taken to a new lifestyle; he decided he was going to uphold Shepard's mantle. To take off where he left off. He had decided to become Shepard, and in the end, he even started  _calling himself_ Shepard. And for two years, it worked. He took down a syndicate (well, the police did), fought off a mercenary platoon (after getting beaten and accidentally shooting a gas container full of Minagen X3) and took out a known crime boss (by accidentally running over him with a skycar). He had believed he was Shepard, all until he met the man's girlfriend, and he realized that Shepard was  _alive._ It was only after almost getting killed by corrupt Illium police that he realized just how pathetic he was, and he dropped his facade and returned to his wife.

But even she had left him. When he got home, the woman had packed up and left, leaving a note to say that she was fed up with his obsession and had gone to leave with her uncle in Wisconsin back on Earth. Now...now she was likely dead. But during that day, he had been crushed by it. He had wept for a full two days, and left Earth on the third, going to live on the Citadel permanently. But his obsession with Shepard once again built in full strength and when he realized the man had worked for Cerberus, he suddenly had the bright idea that working for Cerberus was a good idea. So he signed up.

Then the Reapers invaded six months later, laying waste to Khar'Shan and Earth. It was then, in this very camp, that he met Shepard again, during one of his speeches promoting Cerberus. And when Shepard told him that he didn't work for Cerberus anymore, and that even then he only worked  _with_ them, Conrad once again felt like a total fool. It was only when Shepard told him he could help with the camp that he felt useful again. And so he had done just that; he didn't pick up a gun and go to fight Reapers, he didn't try to blow Cerberus up, and he definitely didn't try to join the spectres; he settled down and helped as best he could.

It was now that Conrad realized he never had any backbone. He wasn't brave, or courageous, and he was nothing like Shepard.

He was just another civilian, cowering behind a crate as people screamed and tried to flee around him, gunfire filling the camp and shouts reverbrating off the walls.

They had come out of nowhere; shuttles deployed them through the windows, gunships backing them and chewing up every C-Sec trooper they could find with their chain guns before their troops dragged their corpses away, other officers simply surrendering and dropping their weapons. In moments, the place was surrounded by enemy soldiers, all clad in gold and white armor.

Conrad thought he was going to die. After his talk with Shepard, he had cut all ties with Cerberus and gone underground, thinking they couldn't hurt him on the Citadel. He hadn't even bothered to change his identity. And if Cerberus found him...despite his attempted bravery, he could easily smell and feel his urine soaking his pants as he wet himself, rough and ragged sobs escaping his lips as he tried to compose himself, but failed at every turn.

Suddenly, the gunfire was lessening, but the voices grew until one stood out, "Enough! Stay where you are, do not move! On the ground! Everyone on the fucking ground! Don't try to run or we'll kill you! Don't fucking move!"

Conrad froze and took a peek over the crate he was hiding behind to see people dropping to the floor, not from gunshot hits but due to the orders shouted at them, the odd sob rattling through the room. Some cradled their heads in fear, others showed none, and some hugged close to their wives, husbands and children, a group hug that showed protectiveness and an attempt to defend their family from the enemy invaders. He even saw one human cradling his asari bondmate, both of them crying as they lay there, absolutely terrified.

He saw one turian stand to his feet, defiant. A voice shouted at him and a centurion appeared, bulky armor grating with every move, "I said on the fucking ground, you turian pig, or I'll gut you where you stand." The man's cybernetically enhanced voice did not make his words any less intimidating; more so, actually.

The turian remained standing, glaring at him, "I'd rather die on my feet than kneel before you, scum," he spat the centurion's feet, "You should be helping us, instead you spread your pro-human ignorance. Spirits punish you, human."

The centurion didn't reply verbally, simply raising his mattock, taking aim and firing, the family nearby screaming as blue blood splattered across their bodies and the turian fell ontop of them, the human tossing him aside in fear of being targetted.

"Anyone else?" the centurion growled, raising his mattock and leaning it against his shoulder as he faced the entire camp, "Does anyone else have anything to say? No? Good," he motioned a dragoon to approach him, and issued orders, "Clear these cubicles; everyone who's in them, bring them in here and line them up. Segregate the humans and the aliens. File them."

 _Categorization? Lining up? Segregate humans from aliens?_ The historical comparison was all too familiar.  _Its the Third Reich and the Nazis all over again..._

Suddenly, another centurion appeared, a squad of assault troopers moving in to grab at people and begin pulling them outside, "Come on! Out! All of you, out, out, out! Line up! Get the fuck out here, now! Any of you resist and we'll shoot you!"

Conrad almost resisted as an assault trooper grabbed his arm and hefted him to his feet, but decided against it; he was one measly civilian against a squad of cybernetically augmented supersoldiers. He was nothing compared to them, so he just let the man push him along and out into the open area, head hung low as he heard more shouting.

Then the screaming began.

"No!" one man shouted, " _No!_  Kaeli!  _No!_ "

Conrad turned as he watched the asari/human couple from before, watching as a combat engineer scooped up the asari around the waist and pulled her from the human's arms, who screamed and thrashed as one phantom held him down, tears streaming from her eyes, "Let her go! Take me instead! Please! Kaeli!"

"Stop...struggling, bitch!" the dragoon snarled, but the asari refused, continuing to scream and jerk, tears streaming down her cheeks as he pulled her away. The dragoon simply laughed as he passed her on three assault troopers, one of them looking the asari up and down with what Conrad could imagine was a sadistic grin.

"I'll have abit of fun with this one," the trooper stated, pointing to the still thrashing human, "Make him watch. Maybe it'll teach him a lesson in what happens when you side these...alien scum."

"Sounds like a plan," came the response, the sound of armor being unlatched as Conrad simply watched them bend the asari over, the poor girl looking about to scream, "Heh heh. Come on boys, line up!"

Conrad tore his eyes away from the ensuing rape, the cries of the asari's lover echoing throughout the bay as Verner was pushed along and away.

He watched as one man was pulled away from his turian wife and children, one centurion scooping up one child while a combat engineer scooped up another, the wife thrown to the ground as she tried to rescue her children, only to be stabbed to death by two phantoms, the both of them cursing profanities as they impaled her beaten corpse a dozen times.

All over, the bay was filled with screams as families were torn apart from each other and humans and aliens were segregated.

Eventually, Verner found himself shoved to his knees next to a fairly attractive human woman and a human C-Sec officer still wearing his armor, but without his weapons. He grunted, the woman turning to him with a worried frown. It was then that he recognized her, eyes widening, but unable to speak from fear.

"Conrad?" Lizbeth spoke, flipping her head back to get rid of a particular curl in her face, "I'm so glad you're alright! Have you seen my mum?"

"I'm over here, sweetie," came Juliana's voice from the other end, "Everything will be alright."

"You'd better hope so," came the voice of an assault trooper behind them, one moving along the line and inspecting them with his vindicator while the trooper behind them spoke, "If we find out any of you are related to aliens in anyway, you'll be purged."

Conrad gulped, sweat collecting on his brow as he looked at the ground.  _I hope talking with Shepard's quarian girlfriend doesn't constitute as being related to aliens..._

"So how about it...Lieutenant Ghost?" the trooper asked, Conrad realizing he was second in line and the C-Sec officer next to him was first. The man looked absolutely terrified, but when he heard the name Ghost, he immediately recognized this man as Samuel Ghost; a man who had been keen in harassing him alot lately.

The man looked up with a twitch in his eye, "How about what...uh...sir?" The man looked very twitchy, and he could see sweat collecting on his brow. He was hiding something.

The trooper knelt down next to him, bringing his emotionless mask into his face, "Let me reiterate. If I search you, will I find  _anything_ so much as related to aliens? Nothing at all?"

The sound of the asari being raped could be clearly heard behind them, laughter mixing in with the horrific screams. Conrad shut his eyes, trying to drown out the noise, but failing as it invaded every corner of his mind.

"No..." Ghost gulped, "N-no-nothing...a-at all!"

"Then you have nothing to worry about," the trooper then stood up, steadying the rifle across his chest as he turned to someone behind them, "Search him. Every inch of every part. I don't care if you have to search his genitals; anything remotely alien on him, and I want to know about it."

In a flash the nemesis knelt down and began to pat down the man, inch by inch, and the closer she got to his chest, the more the man seemed to get jerky.

Then, at the peak of her search, something popped out from the man's pocket and fluttered to the ground. A photograph. It landed face down on the ground, and he swore he saw Ghost's face go pale when his eyes landed on it.  _Oh no..._

"What do we have here?" the trooper asked, kneeling down as he gripped the photo and picked it up, turning it over so he could look at it. Suddenly, the trooper looked at Ghost, photo falling from his hand to hit the ground, gripping his rifle, "You've lied to me, Ghost. That hurts me very deeply."

It was as if a volcano had exploded, "Please! It doesn't mean anything! She's just...just...some...uh..whore! Yeah, a fucking prostititute! It didn't m-mean anything!  _Please!_ She means nothing to me! Take me to her and I'll kill her my-"

"But  _Ghost_ ," the trooper reiterated, looking down at him with a pitiless gaze, "You  _lied_ to me. That hurts me very much. And you know what we do to liars at Cerberus?" he turned to the nemesis and gave a curt nod, "We don't tolerate them, that's for sure."

"No, wai-" His words were followed by an abrupt bang.

Conrad's ears rang as all sound was drowned out, Conrad turning to see the biggest pile of blood he had ever seen pooling across the ground, chunks of brain matter and viscera intermixed with the crimson liquid. A gory pulp lay in the middle of the soaking pool, Ghost's body having slumped forward from the blast.

He heard Lizbeth scream beside him, which broke through the ringing and when sound returned, he realized the asari being raped had gone quiet. As he looked up, he saw her being dragged along the floor, unconscious and her pants still hanging at her ankles, dried tears on her cheeks and semen dripping down her thighs. He took his eyes away, watching as her bondmate, now suddenly quiet and impassive, was dumped unceremoniously at the end of the line.

Ghost's body was left where it was killed, the assault trooper coming to kneel infront of him, clicking his fingers to gain his attention. Conrad looked up at him, and the soldier nodded,"I'll ask again; any relations with aliens?"

He shook his head in answer, and the trooper nodded, and he felt the nemesis begin to pat him down. As she did this, his eyes drifted and widened in horror as he watched a whole line of aliens, ranging from turian to asari, batarian to salarian, lined up against a wall, hands on their heads and on their knees, facing said wall. Five assault troopers lined up behind them, took aim with their rifles, and in a swift motion, executed everyone there in cold blood.

"He's clean," the nemesis stated, her feminine voice intermixed with cybernetics giving a whiny pitch, almost ear-splitting. The trooper nodded and motioned for a centurion to pick up, "Lucky you, you get to live today. Next."

He felt a firm hand lock onto his shoulder and he met Lizbeth's eyes, seeing the fright in them. She was scared, just like he was, and he saw it in that one moment as he was hefted away, watching the interrogator grab her face and twist her to face him as he spoke to her. Meanwhile, he found himself dragged away and forced to his knees in one of the first cubicles where a few humans already stood and, to his immense surprise, a few turians and salarians.

 _They're letting some aliens live?_ Conrad frowned. This was a strange turn for the organization.  _Why?_

He noticed a few batarians as well, a particularly angry looking one seeming to be their leader, if how he spoke to the men around him was any indication. When he noticed Conrad's lingering gaze, he turned, growling behind gritted teeth. Batarians and humans shared no love for each other, that much was known, "What are you looking at, human?"

"N-nothing," he gasped back, recognizing the batarian from his voice. Everyone who had heard about the Terra Nova event knew him. Balak Uhtero; current leader of the remainder of the batarian species. A man Shepard notoriously despised. He turned away from him, looking around the room as he examined its occupants.

He turned to see two dragoons standing guard, carrying two M-9 Usurpers; a light weapon, considering they were mainly biotics. Still, they were sufficient to keep them inside, and enough to make sure noone attempted to escape.

Suddenly, a three-taloned hand grabbed him by the shoulder and he found himself roughly swerved around to face a turian with pure cobalt blue facepaint, eyes scanning him in an instant. He wore a single plain T-shirt, didn't look particularly bulky, and his mandibles seemed to twitch in light disappointment as he examined him, "Conrad Verner?"

He gulped, nodding, "Ah...yes. That's...that's m-"

The turian gave him no time to properly respond as the hand on his arm tightened, beginning to forcefully move him to the back of the room at a hurried pace, the turian looking behind them to make Cerberus didn't see them. Within moments, they were in the back of the cubicle, inside a small, repurposed shipping container.

Upon entering, he saw two othe turians wearing facemasks with skulls painted on the front, two batarians and four salarians, all of them wearing the painted skulls, like it was somekind of organization. Satisfied that they weren't being followed, the turian shoved him inside, coming to sit beside one of his turian compatriots.

"Who the fuck is this?" the batarian growled, "I'm not sitting here with no-"

"Shut your mouth Karak," one turian snarled, "You'll do as your told. We're not in the slave camps anymore."

Karak snorted, crossing his arms, "This is poposterous. This...human..."

"Has more decency than you. At least I hope he does," one salarian mused, eying Conrad up and down. Satisfied, he nodded, turning to Karak, "Nah, doesn't look like a slaver to me. He definitely has more decency."

Karak came to stand, eyes flaring, "I'm going to talk with Balak. I'm not going to-"

"Shut the fuck up and sit down, Karak," growled his batarian counterpart, "You're giving me a headache."

Karak turned to the batarian, anger flaring his features, "But brother, I-"

"I said shut up," he growled in response, cutting him off, "Cease your whimpering."

That seemed to finally shut Karak up, the man sitting down with reluctance and irritation in his features, looking like a wounded animal. He crossed his arms, glaring daggers at Conrad as he sat on the only unoccupied crate in the room.

The turian on his left looked him over, not looking particularly impressed, "So, Lantar, you going to tell us who this guy is? He doesn't look like he's got much meat on him, so I doubt you're going to hire him."

The turian in blue facepaint identified as Lantar shook his head, crossing his own arms as he seemed to do his own examination of Conrad. When he was finished, he turned to the turian, shaking his head again, "No, I'm not. He's too scrawny for that. But he can be helpful, despite his physique."

"He's only useful as varren fodder," Karak snorted.

Lantar ignored that particular jab, crouching down before Conrad, gaining his attention, "Tell me Conrad, are you afraid?"

Conrad frowned at him, gulping, "W-what kind of question is that?"

"Human's got a point, Lantar," one salarian said, the same one from before, "It's a pretty stupid question. He's obviously pissing himself. I can smell it from here."

"Just answer the damn question, Verner," Lantar snapped, clearly not in the mood of any prodding. Conrad nodded, and decided he'd answer the question, despite the reek of his drying urine.

"Y-yes," he croaked.

Lantar seemed to be satisfied by that answer. He stood up, hands moving to his sides, "Good, fear makes people useful. Makes them do remarkable things. Fear...we can use your fear."

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Lantar?" Karak's brother stated, cracking a smile along his four-eyed features, "Vakarian had you on the run for quite awhile."

"I was a coward," Lantar bluntly replied, showing no sign of amusement, "I betrayed my team, and got them murdered. Vakarian had every right to want me dead. But he spared me. You know why? Because I was  _scared, pitiful and sorry._ Three things I'm using right now, and look where it's gotten us," he turned to Conrad, a light flashing in his eyes, "Now, Conrad, I'm going to need you to do something. All of us will. We need you to use your fear and channel it. I'm going to give you a task, and you need to complete it."

Conrad looked at him, and then glanced around the room, meeting nothing but unsympathetic looks. Karak just continued glaring at him, but his brother wasn't even looking at him, looking to be grooming his fingernails, the click of a nail clipper easily heard as one, brown nail, snapped in half, collapsed to the floor.

He turned back to Lantar, his throat suddenly dry.  _What do they want with me?_ "W-w-what do you need me to do?"

"You're going to get us out of here. Past Cerberus," Lantar declared, eying him with pity, "Problem is Conrad, you'll need to be brave. You'll need to...make a sacrifice."

Conrad paled at that, "A...sacrifice?"

"He means to say that you're going to die so we can escape, human," Karak's brother spoke again, tossing his nail clipper away as he loomed over him, gaze pitiless, "You're going to make a run for it, with Cerberus after you, while we sneak past. You're going to sacrifice yourself. Is that definitive enough for you?"

The blood completely drained from his face, and he felt his lips shake, tears welling in his eyes.  _They...they want me to die for them...to...help them escape...they want me to get myself killed...why? Why me?_

"Why me?" he hadn't even realized he had voiced that last thought aloud until it was too late.

Lantar's gaze became sympathetic in that small instant, shaking his head, "Because your the man who's trying to pretend to be Commander Shepard," he sighed, rubbing his mandibles, "And Shepard would give his life to save others. I would know; he almost did so saving me. Stepped right in the firing line of a sniper rifle meant to kill me. He was willing to give his life to save me; tell me Conrad Verner, being so infatuated with him, are you willing to do the same? Our escape could save the Citadel; you could be a hero."

Conrad weighed his options, but he didn't like where it was going.  _I've always wanted to be just like Shepard...I wanted him to be proud of me...to respect me...I wanted to show everyone what humans could do. I wanted to be a Spectre, an N7, Cerberus, and to be Shepard...and now, to become a hero just like him, I have to die..._

_"...our escape could save the Citadel; you could be a hero..."_

_"...a_ _**hero** _ _..."_

He was scared. Conrad Verner admitted that. He was a coward, a moron, and a stubborn fool. He had done things he'd come to regret, made a fool of himself, and tried to impress people, thinking they liked him when they actually just pitied him, or just wanted to paint the wall with his guts. Damn, he didn't even know if Shepard liked him; if he was just doing it out of sympathy. But in the end, despite the prospect of being able to do something good, he just couldn't.

He was a coward above all else. Complete chicken shit.

"N-no," Conrad stuttered, "I-I can't do this...I can't..."

Karak scoffed, gaining everyone's attention, "I told you. The human is as filthy as he is pathetic. What a waste of time."

Lantar didn't seem to tear his gaze from Conrad though, eyes boring into his skull like he was trying to look into the deepest recesses of Conrad's mind. It bore a hole into his soul, and he felt like everything he was thinking was open to the world in that one moment. But then it was over, and Lantar motioned to the door with his head, "Come on Verner, I'll take you outside. Hopefully Cerberus hasn't murdered everyone yet."

He nodded, slowly standing up and ignoring the glares the team shoved his way. It was then, as he looked at the skulls on their helmets, that he recognized who they were. Mercenaries. Of the Grim Skulls.

Lantar grabbed him by the shoulder and escorted him out. They found themselves in the cubicle again, this time filled with more people, and still being filled. Cerberus moved down the bay, a gunship coming to land on one of the landing pad, a fresh squad of troops deploying with the usual centurion at the head, the gunship's engines causing a roar that echoed through the whole bay.

Lantar gave him a light shove and in moments, Conrad could feel that he was alone again; alone amongst many strangers. Balak was still where he was standing before, albeit with more batarians surrounding him now.

But Conrad wasn't paying attention to that; he was concentrating on the opportunity he had missed. An opportunity to make a difference. Yes, he was terrified. But what did his life mean anyway?

He found a nearby crate and plopped himself down ontop of it, holding his head in his hands and beginning to sob, tears finally streaming into his hands as his life flashed before his eyes; all his failures, hiccups and embarassments, from school to the present day. They all came to haunt him; to remind him of much of a failure he really was. A sook.

His wife had left him; she must have seen how pathetic he was, what a waste of life he was, and was just fed up with his infatuation. And now she was likely dead; in some city somewhere, lying in a pool of blood...or turned into a Reaper abomination for them to deploy on some frontier world to use harvest others and repeat the process. Or maybe, she was already dead. He just didn't care anymore. She was gone, they never got to have any children, and so the Verner bloodline ended with him. He was literally it.

Then he remembered Lantar's words, just how right he was. He had summed up Conrad's reasons for being infatuated with Shepard in a nutshell; he wanted to be a hero. To be more than he was; to be more than a man who had failed all his university degrees. But wanted to help people, protect them...save the galaxy from dangerous foes. Shepard was his idol, and he worshipped him as an aspiration for what he wanted to be.

But how can you be that when you can't even stand the sight of blood?

In the end, he was no soldier. No inspiring idol. No god. Neither was Shepard. The man was just a human being who just happened to have the destiny of being the man who saved the galaxy. Just your average special forces soldier. The man had manifested his own destiny. And Conrad knew that he could as well. He was just a human being, and he could decide his fate. His Manifest Destiny.

He turned from his hands, looking up. He sniffed to recover from his weeping, and looked around the room, examining all the aliens and humans and he knew, from his scientific experience, or at least what he had gleaned from all his failed degrees and PhDs, exactly why Cerberus was doing this. Noone got spared...not even the humans.

The aliens were test subjects for Cerberus to experiment on; to dissect and open up.

And the humans, including himself, would become pawns for the Illusive Man. Part of his private army. Who were the two dragoons guarding them? Had they been average farmers? Captured alliance marines? Perhaps well renowned politicians or average failures like him? Is that what he was to become? An augmented supersoldier for Cerberus to dispose of at will?

Could he let himself get used like that? Commander Shepard wouldn't. He would fight back. He would die before serving a man like the Cerberus leader.

 _No._ Conrad declared.  _I will not be like them. I will not be used like a tool. I'm more than that._

Conrad Verner was afraid. He was terrified. He was a moron, a fool, a failure. But there was one thing he wasn't.

He was no  _tool._

He picked himself up, about to make his way over to the two dragoons at the end. But after taking the first step, he froze up, feeling a pair of eyes on his back, as if able to sense it. Going based on his gut feeling, he slowly turned...

...and his eyes locked with that of a blue facepainted turian, who nodded to him upon seeing his eyes, leaning against the container he had been in, arms crossed and tapping his pistol sidearm. Lantar just looked at him, his men about to follow him outside as they began to pile out, all readying weapons.

 _He knew I'd change my mind. He knew I'd come around._ Despite his fear, he choked back a sob and nodded back, puffing out his chest as he took a deep breath as he began to quicken his pace, locking onto the right most dragoon, towards end of the bay.  _Here goes nothing._

Conrad Verner will die.

_But that doesn't matter. My life didn't matter much anyway._

He shoved past Balak, who let out an angry snarl as he tried to grab onto the human's shoulder, but missed by an inch. The rest of his men snapped and growled, but Conrad took no notice, simply increasing his pace towards the lone Cerberus trooper, who continued to be oblivious.

Without warning, he leapt past the dragoon and began to run towards the exit of the bay. He heard him call out, ordering him to stop, but he paid him no heed, simply continuing to run towards his goal. Maybe he lived, maybe he didn't.  _I know I won't..._

A warning shot soared over his shoulder, Conrad knowing that was the only warning he would get. The next shot would be to cripple him. And if that didn't work, the third would be to kill him.

He kept running, and he almost reached the C-Sec customs checkout. But just as he reached it, he watched two assault troopers come rushing out, followed by a single combat engineer. Conrad came running to a halt, trying to correct his course, but was too late.

The engineer's phalanx took aim and fired, the shot piercing through his ankle as he collapsed to the ground, screaming in agony. But he would not give up; he hadn't given the mercenaries enough time to escape; they needed more time.

He turned, watching as they snuck by the distracted Cerberus soldiers, Lantar leading the group as they made their run for it. Conrad smiled, glad his plan had worked. He had actually done something right for once.

He got to his feet and began to limp away at a hurried pace, instead making for the parked gunship nearby.

He never made it, a third shot piercing through his back and blasting out through his pectorals, bringing the human to a complete stop as all the air was blown from his lungs, and he felt blood begin to rush up his throat, fleeing the destruction of his chest.

He spat, a large glob of blood launching from his both to intermix with the crimson blood already present on the ground. He garbled, and then collapsed to his knee, ignoring the fiery pain that came from his already injured ankle. He could feel his vision beginning to get blurry, as if knowing what fate was coming. He took a quick gulp, ready to accept what he already come to accept.

He fell face first onto the ground, more of his blood pooling around him and beginning to drift away from him, his lower cheek soaked as it flowed past his face and mixed in with his matty, blonde hair. His heavy stubble became caked with his own crimson life source, and he felt his life slowly drifting away, ready to depart towards heaven.  _So...this is what...death feels like..._

Noone came to check on him; the Cerberus troopers just left him where they shot him down. He was of no further use to them; for questioning for forced conscription. He was just left where he was to die, and he was grateful for that. He felt like he was on a feathery bed, lifting up as he began to slowly die, closer and closer to true solace and tranquility.

As his eyelids began to droop, one thought occupied his mind as his eyes closed forever, and his mind went blank.

_Commander Shepard would be proud._

_Because he wasn't a failure anymore._

**"The Citadel Siege was the brutal wakeup call the Council needed, and the rest of the Council races. It reminded them that there was a war out there. If anything, that day, I sort of thanked Cerberus for what they did. If they hadn't attacked...the Council might have remainded ignorant of the threat."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"A pity it took a direct attack on the Citadel to open their eyes. Conrad Verner died that day."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Among others..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**I hope I wrote Conrad's death well enough. He didn't play a huge part in the story, and only really made a large appearance in Requiem, but I wanted to do him justice. I got the inspiration for Conrad's death scene from another fanfic I read called 'Mr Cellophane' by bluekrishna. I seriously recommend going over and giving it a read. I tried to keep it as original as possible, but that's where my inspiration for the scene came from. I hope it turned out alright.** _

_**Next part is up next and after that, four more interim chapters before we get to the 'Romance' side of the story genre. Too much adventure, ArchReaper! We need some Talimance! Her return is coming. I hope you are ready, fellow addicts...** _

_**Until then...** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	33. Coup D'etat, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's team makes a push towards C-Sec Headquarters in a bid to retake it. The Normandy battles with the Deliverance, her   
> Cerberus sister ship.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:**

**COUP D'ETAT PART TWO**

_June 22, 2186_

_1326 hours._

_Administration Offices, Citadel Security Headquarters, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

Red blood sluggishly trickled past his armoured boot as he stepped from cover, mere inches from the half-decapitated corpse of a dead guardian, his shield covering most of the cadaver itself. Marcus took aim down the sights, found his target, and fired. He didn't even waste time waiting to see if the shot killed the assault trooper he was aiming at, instead ducking back into cover as bullets began to eat away at his shields, now shooting into thin air as he reloaded his SMG, grunting as he did.

"We've got guardians advancing up the right!" Keeling barked.

"EDI, James, suppression!" Marcus ordered, "Everyone else, focus fire down the corridor! Push them back! Everything you've got!"

EDI complied with his orders in an instant, her body jutting out from behind a support strut to send a long spread from her SMG slamming into the shield of an advancing guardian, holding down on the trigger until it hissed and steam poured from the popped thermal clip. Letting it clink against the ground as she removed it, the synthetic slammed in a fresh one with quick precision and methodicism, and brought it up again, firing another burst into the man's shield while simultaneously reinforcing her body armor, the shots from the guardians' Talon heavy pistols pinging harmlessly off her kinetic barriers.

James joined the game too, this time shouldering his new favourite, an N7 Typhoon, his main favourite, his Revenant, strapped to his back as he crouched, hefted the titanic weapon, and began to pour tremendous amounts of firepower down the Cerberus ranks and slamming into the guardians trying to advance. With the two of them combining attack patterns, even with their shields, the guardians were hard pressed to advance and instead bunkered down, moving into a crouch as they slammed their shield on the ground and hid behind it, occassionally popping a hand out to fire of pot-shots with their hand cannons.

Meanwhile, the rest of the squad went about the usual. Despite the narrow confines of the corridor they were trying to advance up of, it worked twofold for their side; for one side, it provided Cerberus with a good attack point; they couldn't advance anywhere except up the corridor and up the sides where offices were situated, but for their side, it gave them a bottleneck to force Cerberus to charge their position; right into their awaiting, high-velocity lead.

Marcus again ducked under the water that pissed down from a shattered pipe up above, feeling the cool water bounce off his helmet as he aimed down the sights of his mattock and popped off two quick shots, both in quick succession, watching as one caught an assault trooper through the eye, dropping him immediately, followed by a second catching the foot of an unlucky nemesis who's shields had been done, causing her to stumble and collapse onto the ground, only for her to duck into a roll and come back into position, raising her sniper rifle to locate her atta-

One shot pierced her weapon, rending it useless as the barrel was shredded and blown apart by the penetrating round. The nemesis growled in its feminine high pitch, moving to its side to grab whatever sidearm awaited it...

Another shot, ramming into her throat, blood gushing out in a fountain as it pierced her armor, tore her skin, muscle and bone asunder, and then blew out the other end, red blood flowing down her chest to drip onto the ground as she dropped her sidearm to the ground, instead grasping her throat as she began to suffocate, a mixture of choking on blood and instant lack of oxygen and rapid blood loss contributing to a fast death.

One made even faster as a third and final shot entered her chest, likely slammed into her heart, and killed her instantly. The power of the shot sent her slamming into a wall, crumbled body sliding back down in a heap as red blood continued to bubble from her ruined throat, but this time, she was limp.

He turned away, nodding silently to Garrus in thanks, the turian in question taking time to let his Reaper sniper rifle recover from its overheating process before firing again.

EDI and James fell in as the guardians managed to advance again, moving forward in an attempt to deal with James and EDI and rid the squad of their heavies. Instead, they began firing wildly off to the side as they closed in, Marcus frowning as he turned to the source...

...only for said frown to turn into a reluctant grin, despite their situation.

He watched EDI, or at least her holographic representation, run blindly through an office window and crouch behind a devastated desk, blue blood over its surface and mixed with brown sludge of a spilt coffee, now long dried up. Nonetheless, the guardians fell for the foul move, and turned to deal with the non-existent threat.

EDI's hologram depleted and winked out of existence just as Keeling appeared, slashing upward with her omni-blade. He watched as one trooper lost control of his shield, and then saw it was because the man was now missing his arm; the rest of it now stuck to the shield as it collapsed to the ground, crimson flowing from the man's severed arm.

The guardian barely registered it as he turned around, other hand still holding his weapon, "You stupid bitch! You'll pay-"

She sent an armoured haymaker straight across his helmet, sending his helmet reeling back before twisting on the spot and facing the second guardian, who was now raising his shield to defend himself. Instead of trying to get behind though, she simply rammed her blade through the slot, hoping it was long enough to hit. Luckily for her, her gambit ended up correct as the hiss of contact could be heard, shortly followed by the soldier going limp, Keeling ripping the blade from his face before roughly kicking his cadaver away.

Without even looking, she swerved and sent her blade slicing down the middle of the guardian's unarmoured chest. She winced instantly as the smell of rank, rotten flesh assaulted her nostrils, pale blue and green guts spilling out from the man's opened belly and falling to the ground as the guardian screamed, cybernetics blinking from the intestines.

He collapsed to his knees, and with that, she took out her pistol, placed it against his head and pulled the trigger, wiping away the red blood that spilled against her visor as his mutilated body collapsed ontop of his own guts, the smell becoming too much for Keeling to handle as she moved back into cover, turning off her olfactory filters as she did.

Suddenly, there was a lull in the enemy fire, and Marcus turned to see what had happened. He almost smiled again as he watched Kasumi appear and then disappear, causing one assault trooper to turn and fire in a blind panic, the shot instead pinging off a wall. Kasumi then appeared again, slapping a centurion across the face, and vanishing again. Angrily, he spun to fire, but instead of hitting his intended target, he instead got a one in a lifetime look at the insides of an assault trooper's mouth, the dead soldier collapsing to the ground.

Just as Kasumi moved to decloak behind a phantom however, said phantom spun around and grasped at thin air, Kasumi appearing and gasping at the sudden change of events, the phantom tightening her grip as she moved to slash down with her sword...

He heard something clatter behind him, followed by a gunshot that impacted the phantom's shields around the head, causing her to stumble and her blade to swing to the right, moving away from Kasumi's head. Marcus could only watch in amazement as Garrus charged forward, fury in his eyes as he let out a guttural yell, closing the distance in mere seconds.

He brought the butt of his pistol down upon the phantom's head, the weapon cracking and splitting as the casing broke from the impact, but the main barrel remained intact, allowing him to spin around and slam his elbow, into the phantom's face, the already dazed soldier sent flying back from the blow as he collapsed onto her back, likely suffering from a broken nose.

The turian descended on her, even as Cerberus troopers approached from all around. He straddled her, pinning the phantom to the ground before sending a flurry of punches into her face, unrelenting and never stopping, just moving with unstoppable ferocity and strength that only Marcus or a krogan could hope to match.

All Marcus could see was the enemy forces encroaching on him. Kasumi, no longer in trouble, had rushed away, cloak active and then appeared again, slumping against a pillar behind them in a heap, gasping for breath as she held her throat.

Luckily for them though, Kasumi and Garrus had unknowingly lured out the majority of the Cerberus troops right out into the open.

Now was their chance to punch through before they were encircled.

James saw his opportunity and leapt out with Javik, the two of them combining firepower to level a swath of destruction on the paramilitary force. Liara unleashed a whorlwind of warp fields, Keeling fired non-stop, and Marcus elected to join Liara, body glowing bright blue as he sent a shockwave directly down their line.

The typhoon itself totally eviscerated the centurion leading the group, tearing through his shields like they were nothing and littering him with holes before he crumbled to the ground. This continued as he raked across their formation, six assault troopers dropping like dominos, heads splitting open, chests exploding and limbs sent flying.

Javik did the same, his particle rifle slicing an assault trooper clean in half while the rest slammed into and annihilated the shields of a combat engineer, melting through armor and flesh to cook the man's insides before spitting out the back, the engineer falling to the ground in a pool of steaming hot blood.

He turned and fired at an approaching guardian, hitting the shield head on. But unfortunately for the guardian, his shield was designed to deflect bullets up to 90 cal in penetration, not particle or plasma weaponry. So when Javik's rifle fired and slammed into his shield, the edges glowed red hot and the metal hissed and melted, before the shot pierced its hide and hit his collarbone. Successful, he jerked the rifle right while holding onto the trigger, causing the beam to swerve right and half decapitate him, body slumping to the ground.

At this, his rifle finally hissed as it overheated, a long cloud of steam pouring from the chamber as it shot open to vent the unwanted heat. Hissing, and watching as a phantom quickly approached, he holstered his weapon and brought his biotics to bear, body glowing a lime green as he picked the phantom up effortlessly, levitating her in the air. After a moment, tendrils pulsed and lashed forward, wrapping around the phantom's throat and beginning to squeeze, painfully. And after only a minute, the phantom went limp, having now been suffocated, and he tossed her aside, letting his biotics subside as he brought out his rifle once more.

Whoever wasn't annihilated by James' and Javik's united assault was thrown aside by Marcus' biotic freight train, and whoever survived that was hit by a warp field, body's wreathing as they were vaporized at the atomic level, one atom after another. Kasumi, sufficiently recovered, joined the fight and soon, the battle was over, falling quiet as Cerberus retreated, making a tactical withdrawal back into the structure.

He took a deep breath and holstered weapon, swapping it for his shotgun, deciding he had exhausted his mattock enough. He took a second to examine their surroundings, as he hadn't had a chance before Cerberus went on the offensive, and noted that the corridor was an absolute mess; signs of battle were everywhere, numbering from bullet holes on the walls to shattered glass and ruptured pipes spilling running water. The ground was soaking wet, and chairs were knocked aside, desks overturned. Some bodies were present, and one of the doors was jammed, a green interface flashing off and on as it became confused whether or not it was opening or not, the door having been jammed halfway open by a piece of debris.

Sirens still rang in the background, and the building was still dimmed by a red glow, the words 'Code Ten' flashing on signs all over the corridor.

His investigation finished, he turned to Garrus.

Long after the phantom was dead, her sword now hanging limply in cold, dead hands, Garrus was still punching her face, but his pace was slower now, having lost all the energy he had. The turian's expression was blank, his taloned hands leaving nothing of the phantom to even recognized; her helmet had caved in long ago, and from within the grooves blood leaked, some of it dry and some of it fresh, dripping from whatever crevice they could find. Needless to say, she was a ruined mess.

"Garrus," he began softly, standing behind him. The turian finally stopped, one last fist slamming her across with the face, but it was then Marcus discovered her neck had already snapped, her head simply lolling to the side with unnatural ease; nothing stopping it or delaying its travel into that position.

Garrus stood up, and when he turned, Marcus saw his hands; bruised and battered, along with what was likely to be a few broken knuckles. Even with his hands armoured, he had been punching solid metal for a long time, and now the injuries were showing, the metal guards having cracked and fallen off, allowing him to see his injuries.

He hesitantly placed a hand on the turian's shoulder, ready to yank back if the turian snapped. He decided to play the commander, evaluating his condition, "You okay, Vakarian?"

The turian looked up at him, not expecting the use of his last name but quickly nodded, blowing out a large breath. He looked over to Kasumi, and when he saw she was okay, he nodded, turning back to Marcus, "I will be."

He wasn't convinced yet. "I can't have you pulling stunts like that again, Vakarian. That was reckless, irrresponsible. You broke formation without orders. I need to know for certain: are you good, or a liability?"

Garrus looked angry for a moment but quickly nodded, straightening his back, "A momentary lapse in judgment, Marcus. It won't happen again. I-"

"Good," he stated, removing his hand to crouch down and pick up the turian's discarded pistol. Quickly bringing himself back to his two feet, he shoved the weapon into his grip, and nodded, "Go retrieve your sniper rifle and fall in. We're not stopping. We need to find the executor and clear this building before reinforcements arrive; from our side, our theirs, is up to us."

He gulped, nodding, letting the pistol snap onto the magnetic clamp on his hip, "Yes, Marcus."

He turned away, turning back to his squad as he hefted his claymore once more, cracking his neck to prepare for the final push into the core of the structure, "We're almost there, people. One more push."

And so they continued. Cerberus were likely reinforcing their positions now, but at least within the confines of the building, they couldn't bring their Atlases to bear, which rid Cerberus of a serious tactical advantage.

It was likely the whole invasion force knew they were here now. Marcus and his squad had practically laid waste to half of the enemy battalion on their way to this building and whilst inside it. He was just surprised to see such a lack of potent resistance; for a clear strategic position, Cerberus seemed very unwilling to commit their forces to defending C-Sec Headquarters. That, or they were just taking their time to recoordinate their troops. As it was, him and his team were already well inside the complex.

He moved up and tapped the interface quickly, watching the door open to reveal a combat engineer crouched behind it, typing at his omni-tool as he likely tried to lock it and block their progress.

He only got time to snap his head up and look at who stood over him before receiving a knee to the bottom of the jaw, the force snapping his head back to slam back on the ground, followed by an omni-blade entering through his mouth, the only sound was a pained choke before he went limp. Tearing the blade out, he ignored the hot spray that burst into his neck from the sudden removal of the device, coming to stand and motioning to his squad to follow without even a momentary glance at them.

Time was of the essence, and it was quickly running out. They had to stop Cerberus before the Citadel fell.

Because once it did, it would be a bitch taking it back.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1324 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit near the Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor, Yeoman Kelly Chambers._

The Citadel was under an epic siege of huge, awesome magnitude. Cerberus had likely thrown in every resource they had into this gigantic operation: battalions of troops, companies of Atlases, an entire friggin fleet! All to take the seat of galactic government.

And the Normandy could only sit there, watching the Cerberus Fourth Fleet in its still orbit, unaware that they were being watched by the alliance stealth frigate. The Citadel Defense Fleet had been warned about the siege, and now sat behind the Normandy, led by the asari Ascension-Class Dreadnought, the Destiny Ascension. A turian Tribune-class dreadnought, the replacement for the Iron Conviction which had been lost during the Battle of the Citadel, the THS Swift Judicator, stood at the head of the main fleet, accompanied by a human dreadnought named the SSV Vesuvius, which led the rest of it. Both were built solely for the Citadel fleet.

They couldn't attack Fourth Fleet for risk of damaging the Citadel, but they couldn't just sit there either, because Cerberus held no such qualms about firing back; which means Cerberus would be getting free kills with no repercussions. So they just sat there, out of range of the enemy ships, but unable to save the Citadel.

Joker leaned back in his chair, frowning as he tapped his fingers idlely on the inactive console infront of him.

"Could you stop that?" Kelly asked, looking irritated, "Its really annoying."

He snorted, straightening his cap, "Noone asked you to stay on the cockpit. You can leave, anytime you want."

"You're right, noone asked me too," she glared straight at him, clearly not in the mood for his antics, and for what, he didn't know, "I'm here because I want to be. There's nothing else to do on the ship."

"That your excuse, Traynor?" Joker asked, raising an eyebrow, "Nothing to do?"

The comms specialist just shrugged, looking incredibly meek as she flattened her hair, "I've finished all my calculations and EDI seems to have completely devoted her processes to her mechanized form, so I can't really ask her for help on anything."

"That is correct," EDI replied, her purple pawn appearing on the console next to them, "An approximate-"

"I don't want an approximate, EDI," he growled, cutting her off rather rudely. To make up for it, he continued in a much gentler tone, "I just want Cerberus to move at least one damn ship. They're just gawping at us; like they're teasing us. Practically begging us to give them a reason to open fire."

There was a lull in the room, and EDI seemed to go silent. He frowned, turning to her console to see her hologram still visible. His frown deepening, he leaned forward, almost yelling, "Hello? Can you hear-"

"They may have just lost patience, Jeff," the AI replied in a-matter-of-fact tone, laced with what he swore was mirth, "I've just detected enormous fleet activity. The Fourth Fleet is on the move and appears to be repositioning."

He laughed, "What? You can't be serious! Why move now?"

EDI's response was immediate, "It appears they have evaluated our strength and composition and have elected that the 'odds are in their favor.' Their flagship is remaining behind with their carrier and the rest of the fleet seems to be forming a diamond formation around them. Fighter pickets will be launched soon, and we are not in a state to repel them."

Joker laughed, leaning back in his seat as he chortled, unable to contain himself and his incredulosity, "The 'odds' are not in their favor! The assholes have  _one_ dreadnought! We have  _three_!  _Four_ , if you count the Normandy! And one of those dreadnoughts is the  _Destiny Ascension,_ mind you!"

"You are assuming that firepower is the key factor of winning in a scenario," EDI replied drolly, almost enjoying this conversation, it seemed, "It is not. For one, Cerberus is able to choose the terrain for which they battle; for example, they have chosen to battle us in orbit over the Citadel; a strategic location we require and therefore are forced to engage Cerberus in battle. They have the Citadel behind them, which gives us the necessity of being cautious; this is costly in naval combat, and gives the enemy an edge. Also, their fighter cover will render our dreadnoughts defenseless, and their slow speed makes it hard to maneveur, meaning the enemy can snipe our dreadnoughts before we can get in range. Also, they do not know of the Normandy, so they could not analyze our force as having 'four dreadnoughts.'"

He rolled his eyes, poking his cap up alittle as it began to tighten around his head uncomfortably, releasing the pressure it was causing, "You've got a point. Still, I don't see why we don't just snipe their dreadnought and get it over with. The Normandy could be in and out in seconds; deploy thanix, target dreadnought, bam, gone. Probably incinerate the carrier while we're at it, too. The thanix has more of a punch than we give it credit for."

EDI didn't agree, "It would be more beneficial to await the reinforcements requested rather than-"

Suddenly, a new, more familiar voice came over the comm that caused Joker's eyes to widen in surprise as he leaned forward towards the console, "Anyone there? Someone want to explain why the Citadel fleet isn't at the damn Citadel?"

"Grunt!?" he exclaimed, hitting the response button, "What the hell?"

"Ah, Joker," the krogan replied, a grin evident in his voice, "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Said the traffic controller to the quarian party clown," Joker dryly replied, "Seriously, Grunt, you took your time! Wrex said you'd be on the Citadel two hours ago."

"Got a bit...behind schedule," Grunt growled, seemingly talking to someone off the comms, "Took a bit to get this bucket of bolts to actually take flight. A pyjak could build a better ship. Enough of that, though. What's going on? My ship received four seperate Council-related transmissions on the way here, all relating to the Citadel. What's going on over there?"

Joker sighed, stroking his stubble as he leaned back in his comfortable, leather seat, "Cerberus is attacking the Citadel. Who knew, huh? We're sitting here waiting for reinforcements and you picked one hell of a time to arrive; the enemy fleet just popped out to say hello. Can't imagine they'll have a nice goodbye, though. I'd recommend hanging behind until the Citadel fleet deals with this."

"Battlestations!" EDI shouted, cutting him almost immediately after he finished, "Perform evasive! Hard to starboard, course 3.4 relative! Jeff,  _ **move**_ _!_ "

He didn't even ask what the hell she was on about and simply opened up his console, inputting the necessary commands. Receiving them, Ken and Donnelly gave the drive core the needed juice to pull off the maneveur, Joker watching as they shifted off to the right slightly. The lights in the cockpit, CIC and flight deck dimmed to a dull red; battle conditions.

He was about to ask what the hell that was all about when it happened.

A javelin torpedo, shooting right past them, missing by a mere few dozen meters off the port side. It arched out until it slammed into the kinetic barriers of the Ascension, the massive vessel shrugging it off like the stick throw that it was. Still, Joker was bewildered by how that could have happened. When he turned around, he saw the Cerberus fleet hadn't gotten any closer, which means they couldn't have fired that shot...not so accurately, at least.

Suddenly, a new signature appeared on their sensors, and Joker frowned at the display, discovering it to have a Cerberus IFF and of the frigate weight class. How the fuck did he not see that before?

"EDI, what the hell!" Joker exclaimed, "Where did that ship come from!? Its right ontop of us!"

Kelly and Samantha were off the cockpit in seconds, rushing down the flight deck to their assigned posts. Joker just sat there, awaiting EDI's answer, which came quickly.

"It is a Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate, of the same design as the Normandy," the AI replied simply, "It has a stealth drive."

His mouth opened and closed, looking for words, but it seems he didn't need to as the ship in question quietly drifted into view. EDI was right; it was definitely the exact same make as the Normandy. And he didn't mean as in the SR-1 design, he meant the  _SR-2_ design. It looked like an identical copy of the Normandy.

Except this one was covered in the gold and white of Cerberus, its logo painted all over its hull. And then his eyes landed on its name.

_CAW Deliverance._

He was incredulous, freezing for almost a second. _Holy shit. Cerberus built another ship..._

"They are firing again!" EDI declared, but he was way ahead of her; he had been watching the GARDIAN battery on said ship rotate to face them, and his console beep as it acquired a lock-on. He made a sharp turn to port, firing off decoys as he went. The maneveur was successful, with the missiles intended for them finding a home in the decoys drifting in space, exploding in brilliant light almost a full one hundred meters off their bow.

Back into position, he shifted the Normandy to face the Deliverance once more, the angry pilot having had enough of this. He turned to EDI, a light in his eyes.  _They attacked my ship. I will not lose another Normandy. I will not._ _ **I will not.**_ "EDI, bring up the bow GARDIANs, two of our point lasers and load two torpedoes into their bays. Lock onto the Deli-"

"They are hailing us," EDI cut off, "Should...should I put them on loud speaker?"

He had been more surprised at EDI's hesitation than the idea that Cerberus could be hailing, because they were likely going to ask for them to surrender.  _Over my dead body._

Still, he humoured them and opened the channel, watching the identical cockpit of the Deliverance appear on the screen infront of him, a female pilot sitting in the pilot's chair with Cerberus colors. The captain stood in the middle, crisp Cerberus officer's uniform straightened around his thin frame, not exactly a well-built man. He was well kept though; combed blonde hair, rough but washed skin and solid brown eyes that held a hidden steel in them.

"Normandy, this is Captain Banes of the Deliverance. I hope you like our new ship," he stated, his voice portraying no attempt at humor, "She's the pride of our fleet, and the Normandy's successor. Your ship is just a bit obsolete now, I'm afraid."

He chuckled bitterly, already hating this man, "Don't mean shit if your pilot's crap."

Said pilot seemed to notice this, shooting him a glare from her position in her chair, but from where she was on screen at the bottom, only the area where her eyes were and up were visible, making it an amusing sight. Banes looked unfazed however, shaking his head, "I can assure you, our pilot is one of the best we've got. And we've got our own AI; I'm sure EDI has met Eva before."

He was shocked by this, but tried not to show it in his face.  _Eva's dead. We killed that thing on Mars, didn't we? Or did Cerberus recover and rebuild her? Damn, if the Deliverance has an AI, then they've got us completely matched. We have no advantage over that ship._

_Except me._

"She has," Joker grinned, deciding to continue mocking the man, "And I'm pretty sure last time Shepard gave her one hell of a beating. Tell Eva that EDI sends her compliments; she's absolutely  _loving_ the body. It was so nice of her to let her have it."

"Where is Shepard?" Banes asked, ignoring the pilot's taunt, "Where is your incorruptible commanding officer? I would very much like to speak with him. Captain to captain. To negoitate surrender, of course."

Joker pretended to think that over, stroking his beard to overexaggerate the gesture. Eventually, he came back, shrugging, "He's down on the Citadel. Probably wiping the floor with Leng's fat corpse, I'd imagine. You know...hero stuff. Kicking ass and all that. He apologizes for not being able to be here; but he does have important things to do and absolutely  _hates_ being interrupted."

"This isn't a game, Flight Lieutenant," Banes growled, taking no smugness out of the situation. He knew full well that they were both evenly matched for firepower and ability, and found no point in gloating over it. Besides, the Deliverance was a brand new ship; it hadn't been through its paces like the Normandy was, "If Shepard is not here, I will talk with you. Surrender and prepare to be boarded. You have a full minute to think over it."

Joker shook his head, holding up a hand to still Banes, who had been about to sit down, expecting Joker to accept his offer, "Hold your horses, Captain. I don't need a full minute to think over it. You'll have your answer now: Kiss. My. Ass."

Banes sighed, shaking his head as he sat down, "Such a shame. The Normandy is a beautiful ship; I was hoping not to have to destroy it."

"Sir, they're locking on to us," the pilot shouted, looking agitated.

Banes looked down at her, frowning, before looking back at Joker, face relaxing as he came to a realization, "Ah...you never intended to hear me out. You've been using this time to lock on your-"

"AH! Going to have to stop you there," Joker held a hand to stop him, grinning ridiculously, "Can't have you giving away my entire plan. See you in hell, assholes." And with that, he cut the comms, turning to EDI immediately, "Fire."

And so she did. The Normandy must have lit up like a Christmas tree as two GARDIANS, two point lasers and two javelin torpedo bays opened and fired, missiles streaking through space towards the Deliverance, red beams cutting through the void and arcs of blue light charged towards their target.

He'd give their pilot credit, she reacted fast enough to totally avoid the torpedoes, but the GARDIAN missiles hit dead on its belly, but were absorbed by the frigate's kinetic barriers.  _Damn, they must have cyclonic barrier tech as well! They've got us matched for everything!_ The lasers bounced off their shields too, but unlike them, the Normandy had managed direct hits; where the Deliverance had not.

The ship came to a standstill, a second javelin erupting from its hull to move towards them. It was too close though, giving Joker no time to perform evasive maneveurs.

"All hands, brace for impa-" the torpedo hit before he could say anything, the entire ship almost rocking from the impact. But just like the Deliverance,  _they_ had cyclonic barrier tech as well, their kinetic barriers absorbing the blast, but just barely.

The Deliverance was given no time to press its attack however, quickly finding itself under sustained bombardment from one the fleet's vessels as it shields flashed almost constantly, shot after shot pounding it, with GARDIAN missiles, gattling guns and pulse lasers giving their barriers all kinds of hell. Even cyclonic barriers wouldn't hold up against that for long.

Joker silently watched, with widening eyes, as the belly of the frigate opened up, two blast doors sliding away to deploy the maw of the beast; mechanical arms extending until two, twin barrels were in position, their barrels large and daunting. They began to hum with cobalt energy, and Joker could only watch as the Deliverance as it turned slowly to face the Swift Judicator, the ship that had begun shooting at it, and continued charging its thanix cannons, dodging all subsequent attacks.

"Damn it," he raged inside, annoyed that they couldn't even make a dent in the Deliverance. Cerberus built damn good ships, and the Illusive Man knew everything about the Normandy; rebirthing it in the form of the copy cat stealth frigate that matched them in every way. Whatever they had, the Deliverance had.

Except him. And Shepard's squad. And the Normandy's crew.

And they were a special bunch.

Smile crept along his face as he began to think of a plan in his head, eventually turning to the holographic pawn beside him with a broad grin, "EDI, how strong are the Deliverance's shields currently?"

"They are non-existent," EDI replied, Joker listening to the well-timed response as the Swift Judicator was joined by the asari heavy cruisers Hope's Guidance, Train of Thought, Benevolence, Truth's Arch and Long Life. Numerous turian ships joined as well, with four destroyers flanking the Swift Judicator and firing non-stop javelin torpedoes, all of which missed as a combination of a human pilot and advanced AI outmaneveured every attack sent against the ship; whatever hit simply pinged off its heavy Silaris armor, "They only have Silaris Armor to protect them. However, with Eva's processing power solely focused on the ship she is on, she will be able to restore their shields in approximately forty seconds."

He bit his lower lip, deciding to risk it as he hummed the engines, "EDI, prep the upper GARDIAN batteries; every single one along the spine."

A few moments passed, and the AI returned, "GARDIANs along the spine of the ship are deployed," nodding, he began to acellerate towards the Deliverance, keeping it low at first so as to not draw any attention. Just basic thrust; no more than one galactic mile per minute, "Targetting solution required for full preparation."

He grinned, beginning to increase thrust, "The Deliverance's thanix cannons; the general area around it. Enough to put it out of commission and make sure it isn't a threat, but don't fire until I give the signal. I want to get close enough to ensure we get the kill." He knew his options were limited. The thanix cannon was only useful when it was against massive capital ships such as individual Reapers, but against a frigate, the chances of scoring a hit were so low he didn't want to bother. That, and the time needed to charge it would give the Deliverance time to disable theirs or move to a safe distance. So, getting in nice and close and simply crippling the Deliverance was the better alternative.

"Jeff, I must inform you that getting too close to the Deliverance will alert them to our intentions," EDI advised, "EVA will have the same combat software that I do. She will calculate our trajectory, the weapons we have locked on with and then-"

"EVA maybe good, but she doesn't navigate the ship, the pilot does," he smiled, increasing speed to a dozen miles per minute, "And she isn't nearly as good as  _me_."

Full military speed now, and they were quickly closing the distance. Within moments, they were directly underneath the ship, its thanix cannon almost one hundred percent charged.

"Jeff, EVA has locked on weapons," EDI informed him, sounding worried, "They are firing!"

He almost shouted when he leaned forward, shouting until his voice cracked, "Shit. FIRE!"

And it all happened in  _seconds._

The Deliverance's thanix cannons were totally annihilated as the Normandy's GARDIAN batteries tore them asunder, the area round the blast zones being shredded and evicerated, bits of hull and armor being blown off in a maelstrom of explosions, devastation and ruined hull. The thanix cannon was non-existent, blue glow disappearing and leaving nothing left but the mangled ends of the extended arms, which quickly folded in as they were retracted, and the Deliverance began to move into full reverse.

But the Deliverance had dealt back a more fatal blow. Their own batteries had fired at the same time, slamming into the Normandy's hull with enormous force. Due to their proximity, only their Silaris armor plating was around to protect them, and even that couldn't save them from the sheer momentum of the assault.

Joker was thrown back in his chair, crying out as he felt a rib break as he gripped the seat in pain, straining his knuckle bones to the max, but he didn't care. He heard many officers cry out in the CIC as the vessel shook from the impacts, a loose cable flying from the ceiling as it was yanked loose by the tremors. He heard a gasp and then listened again as it was cut off, the pilot turning to see an unconscious Samantha, blood gathering around her nose where she had broken it on a bulkhead as she knocked her head against it.

Then, as quickly as they had plagued the ship, the quaking stopped. Finally able to take a breath without fear of another explosion rocking the frigate, Joker turned back, ignoring the flaring pain in his ribcage as he watched EDI's holopad light up again, "Damn it...damage report. Give it to me."

"We have lost a GARDIAN battery, and another is severely damaged. One shot narrowly missed one of our javelin torpedo bays, and another destroyed four pulse laser turrets," EDI reported, detailing it like she was reading a list, "All lighting has been lost to Deck 3, with emergency lighting only present in the Medical Bay, Gunnery Control, Life Support and the Port Observation. The elevator is working with minimal damage, and minimal damage has been caused to Deck 1. However, Engineering was the worst hit. I believe they were trying to cripple us for a boarding action."

He widened his eyes, immediately hitting the comm to engineering, "Adams, report!"

Adams response was yelled through a hiss of static, the cacophony of a klaxon and the hiss of something being vented, but it wasn't directed at him, "Daniels, get Donnelly and get the hell out of here! EDI, seal engineering: Emergency Order Override 10-4567-12-Delta Foxtrot!"

EDI's disembodied voice could be heard on the other end, "Override accepted, commencing emergency lockdown. Quarantine will be initiated in twenty seconds."

"Joker!" Adams spoke, clearly talking through a mask due to the distortion in his voice, "Engineering's a damn mess! I've had to shut down the engines; drive core's taken some damage and it might be too dangerous to use it! We've got radiation leaking into engineering and we've got a plasma leak on the maintenance deck! I'm shutting down the area and the engines are down; we're dead in the water!"

"Just get out of there, Adams!" Joker demanded, cursing their luck.  _Without the engines we can't move; not even the damn thrusters'll work without power from the Tantalus drive core. Damn, that means the stealth drive isn't operable either! Fuck!_

"We're out! Engineering is sealed," Adams panted, now with his mask off as his voice returned to normal, "But Donnelly's out cold; explosion knocked him out. We did what we could, Joker. We just barely managed to save the drive core from imploding, let alone overloading."

"Just get Kenneth to sick bay. We'll take care of the rest," he groaned, hand coming to grab at his rib, the pain almost unbearable. He cut the comm, turning to his side, "EDI, contact Michel and Chakwas and tell them Samantha's knocked herself out. They can find her up here with me in the cockpit."

"You should have Chakwas look at your injury, Jeff," the AI seemed to plead, which was definitely odd for EDI, "I detect that you have cracked at least two ribs."

 _Two is it? Feels like one._ He didn't really care however, waving the AI away, "You worry too much. Damn it, what about the Deliverance? You'd think they'd have come to finish us off, the state we're in."

"They have tactically withdrawn back to the Citadel. They entered stealth a full minute and a half ago."

He widened his eyes, looking at her with a flabbergasted expression, "Wait, they just left? They had us! Why would they just leave?"

"You are correct, in that they had us. Had we been alone, they likely would have finished us. But with the Citadel Fleet firing at them and their thanix disabled, they deemed the situation unfavourable, even with an advanced ship such as theirs, and elected to retreat. They will likely not reveal themselves again for awhile."

"Well damn. The abomination of nature lives to fight another day. Still, I don't like the idea of the Deliverance just flying around under stealth. Makes me...nervy," he explained, wincing slightly at the prospect of the ship one day popping up behind them and attacking them.  _When that happens...well, I'll be taking that ship with me. Nobody hurts my baby and lives to tell about it. This ship and me? We're one._ The Normandy's first and only pilot had been Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, and it was going to stay that way, if he had anything to say about it.  _I'm the only one who can really make her dance._

"The Citadel Defense Fleet is moving in, Jeff," EDI declared, "They are assuming battle formation."

He widened his eyes, opening and closing his mouth in surprise at the sudden change of attitude, "What,  _now_ they're willing to attack Cerberus? What the hell took them so long?"

"Coupled with Cerberus being too close to the Citadel and with the Deliverance present, the area was not tactically viable and would inflict too much collateral damage, and a surgical strike would have been impossible," EDI replied, sounding almost sarcastic, but maybe that was just his well-wishing, "Cerberus however has no longer got the upperhand. They have moved from their strategic position and placed themselves in the open, enabling us to face them on an open playing field."

"Well its a pity we can't join them," Joker sighed, taking off his cap and letting it fall into his lap, smoothing a hand over his bald spot that he liked to hide, "Not in this state, anyway. Can't even aim the damn thanix."

"I am detecting activity at the Widow Relay," EDI cut in, peaking his curiosity, causing him to sit up from his slumped position, "Multiple signatures. IFFs ping as Systems Alliance, Hanar Primacy, Volus Protectorate and...four unknown signatures. There are also a few merchant and freelance IFFs; many of them unregistered tankers," she finished. After a few moments, she spoke again, but with a different announcement all together, "We are being hailed by the head of the fleet. IFF registers as the SSV McKinley."

 _Hackett?_ He nodded for the comms to be opened and almost immediately, Hackett's gruff voice sounded through the PA, "Shepard, this is Fleet Admiral Hackett. I've brought the reinforcements requested; what is the status of the situation, over? Is the Council secure? How much of the Citadel has fallen?"

He blew out a long breath, speaking up, "The captain isn't here, Admiral; he's on the ground attempting to locate the Council and ensure their safety. I'm the closest thing to senior command, currently. As for the status on the Citadel...well they've got a huge ass fleet hovering over it and the defense fleet's sort of rushing to deal with them, so yeah."

"I see," Hackett replied, shoving no sign of hesitancy in his voice, "Then its a good thing I brought the cavalry. I thought I'd bring in all the heavy artillery we could."

He chuckled, "You're not kidding; that relay's still flashing. What did you bring?"

"For our naval force, I've brought Adina's First Fleet and my Fifth Fleet. Hanar have sent five cruiser task groups, and the volus sent what bombers were left from the Pax System attack. The rachni have also sent what ships they have; its only four, but from what I've heard, they make damn good warships. We've also brought a few dozen freighters and tankers, but they're just for carrying ground forces. As for them, we've got two battalions of mercenaries with a mixture of Grim Skulls, Eclipse and Blood Pack. We've also got four batarian mercenary units, the 3rd, 9th and 21st Frontier Alliance regiments, as well as five hundred rachni soldiers and one hundred and ten brood warriors, along with a few thousand workers. A few hanar marine companies are assisting us and...well, did the captain tell you anything about any STG support he was getting?"

"No, nothing," Joker frowned, "Why?"

"Well I don't know how he did it, but there was a revolution of sorts on Sur'Kesh recently. They're calling it the 'Segregation of the Military and the Government.' Long story short, those loyal to the Union have joined Dalatrass Linron in refusing to help the UGC while a much large contingent have sworn allegiance to our cause; we've got the entire First Infiltration Division helping us, under the command of a Major Kirrahe. Said he owed Shepard a favor."

Joker smiled, remembering the salarian well, "I remember him. Good to see someone's given their government the middle one."

Hackett nodded, "We've also got a Miss Nought and her students. She insisted on coming. I won't tell you what she said exactly, but she certainly hates Cerberus, and that's good enough for me."

He sighed, raising an eyebrow as he did, able to easily recognize who the person was simply by the fact that she hated Cerberus and had students.  _Jack finally got a proper name? About time. I was sick of calling her by a male name. That shit was getting awkward._

"Well, I wish we could help you, Admiral. We had a run in with a Cerberus stealth frigate and we managed to disable its heavy weapons, but they disabled our engines. We're dead in the nebula, you could say," he groaned, "So we're not going to be much help."

The lights of battle painted the background, the Citadel Fleet having engaged Cerberus, soon to be joined by their reinforcements, "You might as well just leave us here. We could do with a few engineers though; our engineering section is flooded with radiation," before Hackett could respond, Joker quickly added, with only a hint of confusion, "Also, could you tell me just how you managed to get here with such a large force so quickly in the span of an hour? Talk about fantastic response time."

"The Crucible project is...closer than you think," Hackett cryptically responded, clearly not wanting to go into the specifics of that, "And I'll have a few of the salarian engineers we have sent over immediately. Could you explain the nature of the radiation leak?"

The man scoffed, "Catastrophic, from the way Adams worded it. Whole compartment is filled with radiation, and I'm sure he said something about the drive core almost having overloaded. The engineers will have to ask him. He's an engineer; he knows more about it than I do."

"Very well. Stay put, and we'll recover you as soon as we can once this is over," Hackett stated, sounding quite confident.  _With a fleet this size, we could wipe the floor with that Cerberus force four times._ "Hackett out."

The comms went dead, and the cockpit was filled with silence until Michel appeared, crouching down next to Samantha's unconscious form and cleaning her up, resetting her nose while she remained asleep.

"Doctor Michel, Jeff requires medical attention. He has broken two ribs."

Joker was not happy, shooting a glare at the AI pedestal.

A much different voice answered, Chakwas stepping into view with her hands on her hips, "Is that so?"

Joker shot EDI one final glance before surrendering, "Traitor."

The Normandy just sat there, waiting for the battle to be over.


	34. Coup D'etat, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With UGC reinforcements arriving and smashing the Cerberus fleet, all that is left for Shepard's squad is to save the Council before Leng gets to them. The traitor in their midst is outed.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:**

**COUP D'ETAT PART THREE**

_June 22, 2186_

_1332 hours._

_Main Reception, Citadel Security Headquarters, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

The room was large. It was arranged in a T-shape; a stairwell led to a large set of doors at the bottom on the right, with the rest of the area having multiple offices all over, a reception desk on the immediate right of the door. Glass frames, bright lighting and vidscreens littered the area, with the occassional Citadel Security insignia painted on the wall.

Now it was a war zone. The set of doors at the bottom of the stairwell was now non-existent, the wall around it also blown away and leaving it open to the outside. Bullets littered the wall, scorch marks potmarked the ground and walls, windows were shattered and screens were shattered, a particularly large scorch mark blackening out one of the logos on the wall. Overall, the area was devastated.

Marcus snarled as he rolled from his cover, his cover exploding a moment later as a rocket slammed into it, reducing it to rubble and twisted metal. The Atlas responsible followed up with a trail of machine gun fire, all of which pinged harmlessly off his new cover; another steel bulkhead. He took the time to slide a new rocket into his missile launcher, cursing at himself for missing the first shot.  _Make every shot count! And what do you do? You fucking miss! Goddamn it! Motherfucker! Cunt! Piece of fucking sh-_

An assault trooper spun around his cover, raising his SMG in preparation to take him down. Instead, he got a hook across the face for his trouble, followed by Marcus grabbing the back and slamming it into the wall, the helmet warping and cracking as it split. Dropping his launcher, he activated his omni-blade and slit the soldier's throat before deactivating it and picking up his launcher again, listening to the thud, thud, thud of the approaching mech. He would have to evacuate his position again, and soon.

"James, get that damn Atlas off my back! Javik, distract that gunship!" he yelled, fighting to get heard over the heavy report of the former's heavy machine gun, raking a large area with the weapon and likely pinning his squad from further movement.

"Suppressed! Go!" James shouted, the sound of his typhoon filling the room as it hammered the Atlas' barriers, drawing its attention to the marine. With it distracted, this allowed Marcus to charge from his cover and move closer to the two-legged death dealer.

He heard the rumble of engines behind him, papers flying everywhere as the Cerberus gunship outside like saw him, spinning up its chin-mounted gun in preparation to rip him to shreds. However, its attention was diverted when a green bolt hit its shields, fazing them temporarily before a long beam of energy raked across its hull, also deflected by its shields. But it was enough to divert its attention, machine gun instead firing at Javik.

The flanking combat engineer whorled to see Marcus rushing towards the Atlas, and immediately reached for its phalanx, drawing it and managing to get off a single shot before his omni-blade lit up and swiped down, sending two fragments of pistols flying through the air to clatter to the ground.

The engineer panicked, this time reaching for his stun batton, only to have Marcus bring up his claymore. In a flash and an ear-splitting boom, the Atlas' left leg was painted a dark red, some of it collecting in lumps, the telltale shape of shredded intestines visible underneath the blood. The combat engineer, its entire chest and torso now scattered across the mech it was defended, slammed to the ground, lifeless from the moment the claymore hit his frail body.

The Atlas finally noticed him, but instead of raising its gun to meet Marcus' attempts to climb it, it simply swatted him aside with its other arm, sending him ramming into the wall five meters away, body crumbling to the ground as he suddenly became dizzy, coming to realize just how much his entire side hurt right now.

"Damn, Typhoon's out!" James roared, "Switching to LMG! Loco needs covering fire!"

"He needs more than that!" shouted Liara, the asari appearing in a bright aurora as she sent the biggest shockwave the spectre had seen careening into the Atlas, the towering mech barely wincing from the assault, but its kinetic barriers fizzed and popped from the force exerted on it, overwhelming their ability to continue functioning.

Liara landed rapidly, moving into a roll and arriving at his side, arms wrapping under his as she began to drag him away, "Take it down!"

He grumbled, trying to stand up, but to no avail; Liara had no choice but to drag him herself, which was no tiny feat; he packed almost as much as a krogan with all his armor and weapons strapped to his body.

He only watched as a monsoon of gunfire assaulted the mech, its glass cockpit shattering from the sudden onslaught. Bullets pinged off heavy armor plating while Garrus' Reaper sniper rifle dealt the finishing blow to the cockpit glass. EDI, with the precision only she could manage, fired the crushing blow, pinning the pilot between the eyes, blood spraying across the cockpit as the Atlas stopped stumbling.

With the momentum carrying it backwards, it crashed on its back, the impact enough to quake the building, sending bits of floor crumbling and cracking into the air, a cloud of dust building up around the fallen combat suit.

He nodded his thanks to his asari friend, taking Garrus' offer of a handup and quickly dusting himself off, ignoring the pain in his side. It was easier now because it had time to dull into nothing and adrenaline took over, so all he did was holster his claymore and move over to the mech to retrieve his dropped missile launcher, holstering it on his back.

A few stragglers were left, and that gunship was still present, but his squad could easily deal with them. They had to get to the Executor's office and find out where the Council was befo-

A garguantuan flash filled his peripheral eyesight, and he looked up to the right to see the ruined and flaming carcass of the Cerberus gunship that had been bombarding them crash into the Presidium lake below, debris flying in all directions. He even watched a few Cerberus shuttles, which had been transporting fresh reinforcements to the headquarters, suffer missile impacts and simply explode into fiery amalgamations of light and flaming metal, their momentum carrying them into the ground and crashing with thunderous booms, grinding into the building's frame.

Just as he was wondering who was responsible for the sudden destruction of the enemy aircraft, he watched three more gunships fly through the air in the background, escorting shuttles. But they weren't the gold and white of Cerberus; they were the black and blue of the Alliance.  _Excellent job, Joker._

He watched explosions flash in the background, battle ensuing as the Alliance gunships joined forces with C-Sec and began bombarding the Cerberus positions. More shuttles arrived, dispatching more troops, likely marines or special forces, clashing with the enemy troops and driving them from their entrenched positions.

He watched one particular gunship come to hover in the courtyard outside the headquarters, but it wasn't black and blue; it was vibrant green. A Salarian Union gunship. He frowned at that, wondering why Linron would help him after what transpired on Tuchanka. Still, he wasn't going to look a heavily-armed horse in the mouth.

As he arrived outside, his team not far behind, he watched salarian STG pile out, all wearing an assortment of different types of body armor, but the general consensus was obvious: the usual salarian style; light body armor, tactical cloaks and highly-advanced, but not heavy, weaponry. The entire squad piled out and as the salarian turned around, he felt a grin grow across his face, unable to stop himself from yelling out, "Major Kirrahe!"

The salarian grinned, his men moving into formation with their weapons still holstered, all snapping salutes at the approaching captain. He saluted them back before reaching his hand out to his comrade, the salarian eagerly taking shaking it, "Captain Shepard, believed I promised you aid despite the Union's wishes. I heard the Citadel was under attack so I brought my entire division. We'll kick Cerberus from their foxholes; they're well entrenched, but that's we salarians do; we kick them from those trenches, the asari negoitate, and the turians terminate."

He nodded, the roar of the salarian gunship still prominent as it took off again, beginning a patrol around the building, joined by two compatriots; these two being painted in the black and orange of the Eclipse mercenary corporation. More explosions in the background followed as more and more the UGC forces deployed all over the Presidium.

"Damn right we are," came another voice, this one feminine and distinctly human, "Cerberus has alot of balls attacking this place. I say its time we squeeze, kick and cut them to show them just how much it hurts to do that."

He turned, watching a thickly armoured human approach them, a squad of Alliance marines following behind her in standard issue cobalt blue medium combat armor; some of them wore helmets, some wore caps and one wore nothing on his head at all, a bandage wrapped around her right eye from a battle scar. Obviously these marines were battle-hardened.

He turned to her, the human herself wearing a full head helmet and wearing armor about the same size as James, N6 plastered on her chest. She snapped a crisp salute, her posture straightening almost immediately upon seeing him, "Captain Lee Riley sir, 7th Engineers, Systems Alliance Army."

"And N6 special forces it would seem. A pleasure to meet you, captain," he snapped his own salute, "But there is no need to salute me. We're of equal rank, and you don't answer to me. Besides, we're not even on the same level. I'm navy, you're army."

Riley snorted, her voice of a higher pitch because of the 'Death Mask' helmet she wore, "I don't care if you're a bloody corporal, sir. You're the man who's going to fix this mess, and the man who we didn't listen to. I'll admit, I was one of the majority who thought you were a raving lunatic," she sighed, "But, for however much it matters, I'm here now and I'm going to make up for that. My company and I are at your disposal, spectre."

"As is my division," Kirrahe spoke up, gaining both of their attention, "Cerberus needs to be stopped right here and now."

"Very well. Kirrahe, you do what salarians do best. Infiltrate, disable, eliminate," Kirrahe grinned, nodding, turning away to shout orders to his men, who still awaited his command. He turned to Riley, nodding, "As for you and your men, you'll all come with us. We need to reach the Executor's office and then locate the Council. None of this will matter if our government falls. We can't afford anarchy."

"Yes sir," she barked, not questioning his orders even once as she pulled free her heavy looking Saber battle rifle, turning to her men, "You heard the man, men! Fall in behind and get ready to hit Cerberus hard! Who are we!?"

"Army!" the soldiers replied in tandem, beating each others' chests.

"Cerberus CAN'T HEAR YOU! SAY IT AGAIN! WHO ARE WE!?"

"ARMY!" they roared, their voices thundering across the Presidium.

"Damn right! HOO-RAH!" she turned back to Marcus, the man grinning from ear to ear at her display, "You can consider my men ready, sir."

He nodded, chuckling lightly as he motioned to the headquarters building, "Then move out, captain."

As they moved back inside, they watched more shuttles arrive and to his immense relief, he watched rachni-designed shuttles slash through the area to deploy near the embassies, swarms of the insects flooding from their hulls to rip and gut Cerberus troops en masse, their forces instantly overrun as hundreds of rachni swarmed over their defenses, taking down Atlases, their sheer force even crushing troops at points. He even watched the occassional blue flash as brood warriors unleashed their biotics. Rachni; the perfect cleaners. C-Sec would be pissing themselves, but they could explain that situation much later.

They moved back inside the ruined building, the sounds of the attacking UGC forces muffled by the thick walls. An explosion shook the building as another gunship flew by, accompanied by a trio of shuttles.

He scanned the devastation, glancing over the fresh corpses of the dead Cerberus battalion and the Atlas wreck, noting that no further resistance had showed itself, and that must have meant the battalion was defeated. And no reinforcements would be coming to reinforce the place; not with UGC troops and air support keeping them accompanied.

He found the doorway marked 'Citadel Security Executor Martin Reed' and began moving towards it, folding out his mattock as he moved forward, motioning his squad to move up ahead and take point, making sure Cerberus had no surprises waiting for them. He fell behind just so he could speak to Riley, the woman moving in a steady pace, her own rifle shouldered firmly.

"I'm presuming the Cerberus fleet has been taken care of?" he asked, knowing full well that reinforcements of this magnitude couldn't possibly have gotten past the fleet without some major help. That meant alot of naval firepower.

" _Being_ taken care of," she responded plainly, "Hackett brought quite the sizable force, but the enemy were giving him one hell of a fight by the time they deployed our shuttles. I can only assume their still engaging them. Don't worry though; it won't be much longer. Combined with the Citadel Fleet, we completely outgun and outnumber them; they're making short work of their ships."

He nodded, satisfied with the answer as he moved up to catch up with his squad.  _So we won't have to worry about Cerberus providing naval cover which means no orbital bombardment or a blockade. That leaves us with just the ground forces, and with the numbers we have, it'll be a simple matter of just clearing the bastards out from every nook and cranny._

In retrospect, he didn't how the Illusive Man had planned to pull this off. Taking the Citadel? It was a fool's errand, surely. The station was far too substantial in size, and even with the force Cerberus had mustered they had only managed to spread out along the Presidium and Shalta Ward. The Illusive Man was smarter than that; he had to know military conquest of the Citadel wouldn't end like Omega did; not only were they bigger, but they had more organization and a much more superior force, as well as military forces that actually depended on it. There was an ulterior motive, and he wasn't seeing it.

But as he reached the stairs leading up to the executor's office, finding no sign of a Cerberus ambush, he hit a sudden epiphany.  _Taking the Citadel was only a secondary objective...assassinating the Council was always the primary goal of this attack. We can have the Citadel, but without a government? Anarchy would spread and it would make the Reapers' job alot more easier._

It all fit, yet it made no sense at the same time.  _Cerberus, the Illusive Man...they_ _ **have**_ _to be indoctrinated. All the evidence is there, yet there is always contradiction! The Reapers_ _ **attacked**_ _Cerberus troops! But why else would the Illusive Man believe he can control them? What about Javik's story about the indoctrinated separatists who tried to do the same thing? Why else would he try to stop our efforts to stop the Reapers other than the Reapers are using him as their puppet?_

They moved up the steps, turning the corner to find another set of stairs, leading up to a lone door. The Executor's Office.

They steadily approached, Riley's men covering the flanks.  _Its all for show. The Reapers are making Cerberus keep up appearances; to the average person or soldier, they'd just see Cerberus as terrorists, and therefore nothing had changed. But in reality, they're all indoctrinated, and working with the Reapers. But something tells me the Reapers aren't indoctrinationg them just to convince us. We'll fight Cerberus either way; terrorists or indoctrinated._

He came into a crouch just outside the door, motioning for Liara, James and Javik to take the left, Keeling with him, and EDI, Kasumi and Garrus on the right. Riley and her men took up positions behind them, one of them hefting a Revenant and the other a Revenant, providing to provide heavy support if what they found behind that door wasn't friendly.

It was here that he reached an epiphany.  _The show isn't for us...its for the Illusive Man. He doesn't know he's indoctrinated and the Reapers have made it that way, just like with Saren; he didn't know Sovereign was indoctrinating him until it was too late, and by then, his loyalty was absolute. But TIM's indoctrination must be a state where he isn't fully loyal yet or devoted, and is still able to fight back. So, the Reapers trick the host into thinking they aren't. Saren thought he'd be saved from it because the Reapers needed his mind intact, and that was his downfall. The Reapers attack Cerberus to make it look like they are enemies of the Reapers, where they are actually their servants. It makes sense now. Noveria...Its all to keep up appearances._

There was no doubting it now. Cerberus were the intended replacement of the Collectors. The Illusive Man was a tool of the Reapers, even if he didn't accept it yet. Kai Leng, all of them...every single one. But that meant...

_They're going to harvest humanity, turn us into husks and leave us as the next cycle's collectors..._

But if the Crucible worked, there wouldn't be a another cycle. As far as he was concerned, it ended with this one. The war to end all wars.

He watched as Keeling grabbed a satchel charge from her hip and gently placed it against the door, priming it with a flick of her fingers upon in its miniture holo interface. With it primed, they all backed up until Keeling gave the all clear. Giving everyone a glance to check that they were secure, he nodded, "Breaching!"

The door was torn asunder in a growing cloud of momentary fire, billows of smoke and the smell of explosive residue. Without even a moment's hesitation, he got up and charged inside, rifle doing a sweep of the entire room in the moment it took for him to enter.

No Cerberus soldiers rushed to meet them; no gunfire poured into his shields, not even any bodies...at least not on their side.

The room was spartan; a basic 5-by-5 meter box with a desk in the middle, two inactive terminals and paperwork dumped everywhere. On the desk, a holographic nametag dubbed 'Martin Reed' hovered over the desk, emitted from a small holo pedestal built into the desk's metal frame. A glass of what looked to be old style Coca-Cola lay untouched on the smooth surface, undisturbed, but now with a tinge of crimson murking in its depths.

Lying face down on the table, his crimson blood soaking the papers beneath him and dripping down his coke glass, was Executor Reed, a bullet hole through the back of his head a testament to the executionary style that was used to murder him. His cold, clamy hands were now stained red, dried into his skin like a permanent tattoo. His hair was sticky, ruffled and glued together by the crusted substance, most of his upper hose now non-existent. Whatever had been used to kill him definitely high penetration; likely a carnifex.

He lowered his rifle and sighed, bracing against the desk in irritation. He noted the two dead C-Sec guards lying in the corner, bodies unceremoniously dumped across each other, one a turian and the other an asari, both wearing what looked to be heavy combat armor and carrying equally powerful weapons, none of which got to see any use; the twin bullet holes through their foreheads a common theme with the person who killed them, purple and blue dripping down and soaking their face. The asari was draped across the turian's chest, like a piece of trash that the owner couldn't be bothered tossing out. The sight disgusted him.

He sighed again, hitting his emergency comm, "Bailey, this is Shepard. We've found the Executor. Cerberus got to him first. And our trail on the Council is pretty much cold."

"Shit," he heard the man curse, gritting his teeth, "That's just going to make coordinating security that much harder. Although from the explosions I just heard and the STG agents I had just walk into my office, that won't be much of an issue anymore."

He looked to Keeling, hoping that she had managed to find something. She shook her head grimly, and he growled lowly under his breath, turning back to Reed's limp corpse.  _Back to square one. Fuck!_

"Is there any other way to locate the Council?" he interrogated, not willing to give up. He couldn't let Cerberus win, "Any other way to acertain their position other than going straight to the bunker?"

"Contacting them directly would be too risky. Cerberus could track the transmission straight to them," Bailey gulped, "Or...they could already be dead and we don't know it yet. Look Shepard, I-"

"Captain," Javik rasped.

"Not now, Javik," he snapped.

"It is important," the prothean insisted.

He ignored his protests. "Look Bailey, we're going to have to risk it, because I don't see an alternative. We are short on time. Leng co-"

"You wanted to locate the Council," Javik almost barked, finally drawing Marcus' attention, although it came with a slightly irritated frown, "I believe I have found a quarter of it." He then motioned to something beyond the shattered observation window of the office, the prothean ignoring the needle sharp shards collected on the ground.

"Wait one sec, Bailey," he stated, grabbing his rifle as he made his way over to the prothean. He turned to Riley as he did, motioning to the doorway with his head, "Captain, take your men and secure the building. Nothing gets in or out, not unless I explicitly order it."

Riley nodded, running outside in a hurry, "Rawley, Deborah! You two stay here, the rest of you, with me!" And with that, the company began to rush outside, one by one, weapons drawn, soldier to the bone.

He finished his approach towards Javik, coming to stand beside the prothean as he looked downwards, towards where he pointed.

Down below was another section of the headquarters building; a conference room, by the looks of it. A long table sat in the middle with rows upon rows of chairs lined up against it, one carelessly rolled aside, like someone had rolled it away in a haste to-

And there he was, poking his head out to scan the skyline before moving back inside, clearly nervous. He wore his usual ceremonial hood, his skin the old and fraying outlook that came with being very advanced in their age. The salarian took one more look before moving back inside, clearly paranoid. Councilor Valern.

He grinned, slapping his prothean friend on the back.  _That's at least Valern safe. Maybe he knows where the rest of the Council is!_

He was about to shout down at the salarian councilor when he noticed a distortion in the edge of his vision. He turned towards it, expecting to find Kasumi, and his eyes landed on the form of a cloaked figure moving across a steel beam towards Valern, movement moving the air around them and giving them away. But unlike Kasumi who preferred being sneaky, this one was both that and crouched in a battle stance; the subtleties only he could pick up on. But that meant only one other person...

His eyes widened as a feral rage reclaimed his mind, memories forming in the pockets as he growled, low but loud enough to cause even Javik to do a double-take, the prothean looking curious as to his sudden reaction.

"Garrus, get everyone over to that side of the building.  _Now._ If there's anyone outside, take them with you."

"Me?" the turian asked, confused, "Why me? Can't you-"

He didn't give Garrus time to even further object to his orders, instead grabbing the ledge and heaving himself over, dropping at least seven full meters to the ground below.

He flexed the cybernetics in his leg muscle, coming to stand with a grunt, but surviving a fall that would have sprained the legs of anyone else. He dove into a roll, letting his momentum carry him into a standing position as he whipped out his SMG, mattock clattering to the ground all in the moment it took for him to take aim with his weapon.

But this assailant was just as fast, rolling behind Valern, who had turned to face Marcus with a wide eyed expression, only to almost gasp as the assassin behind him decloaked, katana wrapping around his throat and another arm holding him as the figure decloaked, a smug smile building across the face that hovered over his shoulder.

"You enjoy being very late to the party, Shepard," Leng hissed, smile turning into a sneer, "And being late always has consequences."

Marcus didn't answer, keeping his SMG dead set on the assassin's face. But the man had kinetic barriers, so even if he did get off a perfect headshot, Leng would survive and be able to decapitate Valern in an instant with that blade of his. So for now, he would entertain him. As much as he wanted to watch a bullet fly down his throat.

Seeing as no answer was forthcoming, the assassin shrugged beginning to circle the room, taking Valern with him at blade length, "Still, I guess there's a sort of fun aspect to you being here in time to see me kill this salarian filth. Once I'm done with him, you can then watch that asari bitch and the turian pig die as well! A lovely little party, don't you think?"

Marcus frowned.  _He didn't mention Udina...probably because he's human. Leng's always one to go right for the throat when aliens are involved. Maybe there's nothing meant by it...maybe he's just trying to get me riled up..._

He spoke with ice, tone confident and promising horrors beyond imagining. Oh yes, he would torture Leng until he begged for mercy. "It would be lovely indeed, Leng, if I didn't have to spill your blood over the carpet."

"So sure of yourself," Leng spat, laughing bitterly, "You're nothing but a puppet. The Council pulls the strings, and you sing their little tune. How about I taint that tune with a bit of...well, choking on blood lyrics? The gurgles, the screams...but the best bit is the drinks that are served. I've heard they're pure green, but there are also blue and purple flavours. Which one would you like?" then he grinned, "Suit-rat flavour, maybe? What does their blood look like anyway?"

Marcus grinned, "Its a deep red, actually. You could say its...very  _human_. Doesn't that just  _rile_  you up? Doesn't that just  _anger_ you?"

Leng snarled, tightening his grip on the blade. Marcus gulped, tensing up upon seeing it, but trying not to let Leng see it.  _Nice one, dumbass. You're trying to keep him from killing Valern, not anger him into doing it quicker._ He noted how close the blade was to his throat.  _Any closer and I'll know what a green river looks like..._

"Your quarian whore's time will come soon enough. As will yours," he taunted, smile returning to his face as his anger evaporated, a change that the man loved to make, as if anger was a weakness he couldn't afford, "I'll enjoy showing her your head, before I take hers. Or maybe vice versa. It'll depend on my mood."

Despite himself, that pissed him right off. Noone hurt Tali.  _Noone._ "Perhaps I'll show her yours," he snapped back, edging subtlely closer, grip remaining firm as he heard footsteps descending up above, "I'll fucking kill you before you hurt her. You're a scumbag, Leng. An old relic. You're an odd man out in a world that doesn't want you. Perhaps me killing you will be a...mercy. A rabid dog needs to be put down, does it not?"

Luckily for him, Leng went unfazed by this, simply shaking his head in disappointment, "I'd love to debate my moral hygiene all day long Shepard, but unlike you, I do not love aliens as much as you do. I have alot to kill. Especially the important ones," he turned to Valern, grinning as he stopped circling the room, back to where he was before, "I think its time to finish this."

The door behind them slid open, Garrus jogging out and landing in a crouch, rifle raised. Keeling, Liara, Javik, EDI, Kasumi and James weren't far behind, each taking aim at Leng's back. Upon hearing it, the man oriented himself so he was facing both of them, keeping Valern infront of him like a meatshield. Marcus could only smile, noting the sudden change of events, "I couldn't agree more, you sack of shit."

Leng merely chuckled, chest heaving with his rackus, "You are a fool, Shepard. Numbers mean nothing unless the hostage's safety is guaranteed. As much as I've enjoyed this, I think it is time I-"

Suddenly, a figure dropped behind Leng and stood up silently, phalanx pistol raising until it tapped the back of the assassin's head, causing him to widen his eyes suddenly. Marcus opened fire, the shot pinging off Leng's head and startling him enough that he let go of Valern, allowing Marcus to tackle the salarian to the ground and protect him from further harm. All he heard was a loud gunshot, followed by what sounded like a grunt, and then the sound of a fist impacting flesh.

He got up, turning the salarian over to make sure his neck wasn't sliced open. To his extreme relief, the salarian blinked up at him, still quite alive and throat unopened. He nodded his thanks to the spectre, Marcus doing the same before spinning to Garrus, "Get him to safety!" he keyed his comm, "Bailey, we need a skycar at my coordinates now! We've got Councilor Valern and we need to extract him! Get him back to UGC-held territory!"

He didn't hear Bailey's reply as he got off Valern, snapping up into a rigid stance as he brought up his SMG, taking aim once more. But he didn't fire; doing so was impossible, giving the intense fight making two bodies indistinguishable from each other.

He smiled slightly as he recognized the figure, the drell lashing out a punch into Leng's midsection before spinning and sending a kick reeling into his head. Leng ducked, blocking it fluidly as he step dragged backwards, swiping down with his sword. The drell assassin, seeing the attack coming, rolled out of the way and then came back up, his pistol raising and coughing two shots right into Leng's legs.

Kinetic barriers coughed and spat in resistance, and then Leng raised his palm cannon, charging and firing at Thane. The drell casually rose up a biotic barrier to deflect the shot, following up with a warp right into the Cerberus assassin's head.

He was unable to duck in time, Leng grunting as he was thrown back into a desk, but keeping his grip on his katana firm. He lunged back, growling as he moved, hoping to slam his blade deep into the drell's gut.

Thane dove his hands down in a x-block, shoving the blade down. In a flash, with the fluidity of a professional dancer, Thane wrapped around the blade's top and wrenched with all his might. Having overextended himself, Leng was uanble to react appropriately and was forced to let go of the blade to stop his momentum bringing him into the drell's range. He ducked back, Thane tossing the blade away, over some desk to land cluttered somewhere.

The drell assumed a battle posture, fists clenched and raised before him. Leng assumed the same, his N7 training coming into effect like honed-in instinct.

"Your attacks are sloppy, not that of a professional assassin," Thane assessed, eyes glazing over him, "You have room for improvement."

"I don't want your advice, drell," Leng snapped, gritting his teeth as he cracked his knuckles and flexed his cybernetics, "When I'm done with you, I'll throw your broken body into a lake like the pitiful trash you are."

"Threats are for those who are uncertain of victory," Thane calmly replied, totally unfazed by Leng's pathetic attempts to intimidate him, "They are meaningless unless you plan to follow through."

"Oh, I do," Leng grinned.

"I do not deem that likely," Thane replied, cracking his neck, "I have managed to counter each one of your attacks and I-" he coughed, a wet sound that didn't sound at all healthy, "...am extremely ill; my abilities are not at their peak, and yet I am able to stop you from reaching your target. You should be ashamed."

This seemed to spark a blaze of fury in Leng, because suddenly he charged forward, sending a flurry of punches whorling towards Thane.

One punch connected with Thane's gut, followed by another in the shoulder, winding him slightly. He coughed, a glob of mucus flying from his mouth to hit the floor before Thane ducked the rest and blocked the last one, holding it as he sent his other hand backhanding across Leng's face, causing his face to snap back from the impact, growling.

Letting go of his hand, Thane closed the distance and unleashed his own flurry of punches, most of which the assassin managed to block against a jab at his throat, which caused him to launch backwards in agony, grasping his throat as he tried to breathe. Taking advantage of his vulnerable position, the drell rolled forward and sent a kick ramming into his kneecap.

But Leng had been faking the motion; with his cybernetics, he recovered alot faster than a normal human, and when he saw Thane's kick coming, he pivoted, causing the drell to miss entirely and answered with a kick of his own; a roundhouse kick across the face.

He winced, head yanking to the side as the drell's vision blurred momentarily, losing focus as a combination of his illness and the kick messed with his eyes. He gained it back in time for Leng to clasp his hands around the assassin's throat, smiling all the way, "I said I'd fucking kill, you,  _Krios._ "

"And I said that wasn't likely." His knee shot up, slamming right into where Leng's groin would be. Being a eunuch, he didn't feel the pain he would have, but it was enough to stun him while Thane brought his other knee up, grabbed Leng's hair and yanked his head down while sending his knee up; the two connecting with a sickening crunch.

Not finished, he slammed an elbow into the back of his head and then crashed to the ground, spinning his body and extending his legs in a footsweep, taking Leng's legs out from under him. He cried out, nose slamming into the ground and adding more agony ontop of his already broken nose, red blood spilling out onto the ground. Thane grabbed his pistol, preparing to empty a shot into the back of his head, fighting back his urge to cough.

But he hadn't accounted for Leng's ability to recover extremely quickly. In an instant, he found himself on the ground as the assassin initiated his own footsweep, coming to stand with a grunt as he forced himself to stand, hair ruffled as he faced Thane, pure hate fueling his movement.

He stopped his approach towards Thane, who was now coughing his lungs out onto the floor, unable to properly defend himself. His barriers flared again and again, burst after burst slamming into them. With a frown, he turned to face Marcus, who rapidly approached, gritting his teeth as he fired continously.

Having recovered from his coughing fit, Thane got to his feet, grabbing the sniper rifle from his back and grabbing the barrel, spinning it before ramming it into the distracted Leng's back.

The assassin doubled over, and then fell backwards again, the rifle cracking across the back of his head. Dropping the weapon, he approached, using his biotics to pick up Leng, turning him to face him with a flick of his wrists.

He coughed, a glob of flem dribbling down his lips, "Pa-" he coughed again, "-the-" again, "-tic."

He threw him across the room, his body coming to slam into a desk on the other side of the room, collapsing forward in a heap. Thane, satisfied, retrieved his pistol, slapping in a fresh thermal clip as he let his biotics die down. He sighed and Marcus sighed with him, moving over to Leng's body.  _This ends now. This piece of shit...he_ _ **dies**_ _now. I will avenge Shala's husband. I shall avenge Jacob._

"No," Thane spoke, and he came to a stop, whorling on the drell in a surprise, who slowly limped over to Leng's side, "I will finish this." He said this as he came to stand above Leng's frozen body, obviously knocked unconscious. He raised his phalanx, prepared to deliver the final blow.

"On the contrary," rasped that hated voice, "Now its my turn."

In a flash of silver steel and green blood, Leng's katana sliced through Thane's chest and erupted out the other side, green blood flying from the exit wound and dripping down the blade. Leng simply smirked, meeting Marcus' look of horror with sadisitic glee, "I told you, Shepard. Showing up late has  _consequences._ " With that, he yanked the blade free and Thane, all his energy drained from him, collapsed into a desk before sliding to the ground, coughing from a mixture of his blood moving up his oesophagus and his illness. His pistol fell from his grip to clatter to the floor, and Marcus could only watch for a couple of seconds as Leng's reserve energy kicked in, grabbing his blade as he made for the exit, completely forgetting about the salarian councilor.

Then rage took over. Two words echoed in his mind, joining the chorus.

_Avenge Shala's husband. Avenge Jacob._

_Avenge_ _**Thane.** _

" _ **LENG!"**_ he roared, his SMG firing in a non-stop beat, " _ **LLLEEEENNNGGGGGG!**_ "

Leng was already gone from sight, but still Marcus chased after him, ignoring the protests from his team. No, he didn't get to escape. Not again. Not after another friend was lost. Not this time. He would avenge them. He had to.  _That scumbag can't escape! Not again! Not this time!_

He sprinted down the stairs out to the main landing pad in the general direction the Cerberus assassin was running in, finding the black clad figure running towards the edge, blood trailing behind him in little rivulets, sword now hung on his back. Marcus wasted no time questioning the man's motives, only raising his SMG and firing off a non-stop chorus of bursts towards the man he hated with a passion; hated even more than he hated Saren. Shot after shot slammed into kinetic barriers, and just as the man reached the edge and jumped, his barriers snapped out of existence, their ability to defend wasted. One more shot coughed from the barrel of the SMG, shooting towards Leng's now unprotected form at high speed.

The shot fell just short, zooming right over Leng's head. He roared, holstering the weapon on his hip and pulling out the missile launcher, ready to give Leng a piece of his mind.

He stopped near the edge, a roar of engines easily heard. His eyes widened as he watched the gold and white of a Cerberus kodiak rise before him, engines kicking up a wind that slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He kept his stance firm however, only able to see Leng's smug expression before the hatch closed, and the shuttle zoomed off to the other side of the Presidium.

 _No!_ He wasn't really thinking when he did it, he simply levelled the missile launcher and fired, two missiles erupting from the barrel in quick succession. He knew they'd all fall short; his aim wasn't perfect, and that shuttle was rapidly becoming a small dot. Moments later, the missiles ran out of fuel and their timers ended, and twin explosions sounded in the distance, the kodiak already gone.

He collapsed to his knees, launcher slipping from his fingers. He didn't even hear the clang, all sound drowning out as he simply knelt there, looking blankly at the ground. They had come so close to avenging the lost...only for Leng to take yet another life. It seemed the tally was just getting larger.  _Byp. Jacob. Thane._ But Thane wasn't dead yet, he knew that. Maybe his drell could still be saved.

Acting quickly, he commed Bailey, not waiting for the man's voice to speak before doing so himself, "Bailey, Valern's safe, but Leng got away. A friend of mine is injured and needs immediate medical attention. Is Huerta Memorial secure?"

It took a second for him to verify the information, "UGC lifted the siege on it a few minutes ago."

"Get him over there as quickly as possible!"

"I've already alerted the salarians here. They've sent a shuttle for pickup. Should be arriving any minute."

Right on time, a similiar roar of engines, this coming from a green kodiak, appeared, the vehicle lifting itself up and over to the landing pad, slamming down on its surface with a clang. He growled, rounding the shuttle just as he saw the hatch slide open, salarians rushing out to escort Valern inside. He saw the two flanking the councilor were equipped with scorpion pistols, while one sighted down range and scanned the area with a Raptor marksman rifle. They were moving inside when Marcus grabbed one by the shoulder, turning him to face the spectre.

"My friend needs help. A drell named Thane Krios," he stated, motioning to the injured drell, who's arms were currently flung over Garrus and James' shoulders, "You need to get him to Huerta Memorial immediately."

The salarian shook his head, "Drell suffer from Kepral's Syndrome. From the looks of it, he's in the advanced stages. Even if we did save him from the injury, the illness will kill him anyway. He's a los-"

"Do it, Corporal," Valern ordered with steel in his voice.

The agent looked surprised, turning to the councilor, "But councilor, he-"

"That man saved my life," the salarian insisted, narrowing his eyes, "Will you refuse the order of a councilor?"

"No...of course not!" the corporal hurriedly responded, tapping the shoulders of two of his beleagured colleagues, "Get him inside the shuttle! First stop, Huerta Memorial! Then we'll head for the precinct."

Marcus turned to Valern, but the salarian beat him to it, nodding with mutual understanding. The two of them hadn't worked well in the past and he still hadn't forgiven the salarian for being one of the people who downplayed his warnings and the cause of all his troubles in the past, but Thane had saved his life from certain death. Even Valern understood the meaning of that and respected it. It just earned more brownie points with the captain.

He turned from the councilor, who was now moving into the shuttle, and towards his team, "We need to get to the rest of the Council before Leng does. This isn't over yet."

They all nodded, but neither of them knew what to do. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he cursed their luck. No skycars around, and the salarians couldn't give them a lift, not when they were already taking off anyway, taking Thane with them.  _I hope he's alright._ As daunting as the prospect of losing another friend was, he still couldn't help but see the hopelessness of their situation. They were, for all intents and purposes, stuck here, without any hope of-

_The singer of light does not need sing hopeless songs no more. Those of the Forgiven Song will provide assistance._

He frowned, turning as he began to hear an unfamiliar rumble. This one was sickly, a sound like that of a broken boombox, mixed with the sound of a geth pulse rifle firing. It was odd, insectoid sound, and Marcus and his squad could only watch in awe as a large shadow fell over them.

The rachni shuttle's hatch opened, and the last person he expected to see inside grinned down at him.

"Well are you just going to stand there, boy scout?" she asked, body glowing blue with the rest of her students, "Or are you going to join us in kicking some fuc-kicking some as-butts?"

He grinned despite the rage channelling through him, the sight of Jack and her students a welcome reprieve from the massive siege going on around him. Besides, it took his mind off Leng and Thane's predicament. He nodded, motioning his squad to get inside the rachni vessel as it prepared to lift off again, the chin-mounted weapon on the front making it a hybrid of a shuttle and a gunship.

Once inside, he noticed just how insectoid it was; it reminded him of Collector architecture. A bee-like hive structure, but with a metal frame. Inside were four brood warriors, all of them standing and looking blankly at him, their emotions flooding through him.

_Singer of Light, you have come. The Forgiven Song does not forget._

_The Tainted Songs sing in harmony with the sour notes. We will destroy them!_

He nodded to them, replying verbally, "I have not forgotten the Forgiven Song's promise. I do not regret my decision."  _The Forgiven Song must be the queen. Still, Singer of_ _ **Light?**_ _Is that how they see me?_

"Singer of Light?" Jack asked, snorting as the hatch closed and their shuttle began to move at an increasing speed, "They call me 'Singer of Dark Notes.' Whatever the fuc-the hell that means."

"I can't possibly imagine," he grinned, turning to his squad who seemed as on edge as he was. He noted a few students trying to talk with Liara, who simply smiled and answered their non-stop invasion of questions. James attempted to make conversation with Keeling, something Marcus noted, with some surprise, was actually working. Garrus seemed to be apologizing to Kasumi for what happened earlier, and, he noted with a smile, she seemed to thank with a tight hug. There was something different about those two.

He turned to Jack, smiling, "I didn't think I'd find you here. What are you doing on the Citadel?"

She chuckled, crossing her arms over her tattoed frame, "I heard the king of the boy scouts squealing for help. I, being the chivalrous person that I am, pledged myself to help. My kids decided to...tag along."

He smiled, shaking his head, "Its good to have you here, Jack. Still...I hope Thane is alright."

The biotic powerhouse actually frowned, worry creasing her face. That was a new emotion for Jack, "What happened to him?"

"Kai Leng," he growled, his moment of clarity and relief fading away to let his fury fester once more, "Got him right through the chest and then ran off. That's why getting to the Council is so urgent right now; he's going straight for them. He's injured though, so I guess that'll make finishing him off much easier; Thane beat the living shit out of him."

She whistled, nodding to her kids, "I expected nothing less from that zealot," she turned to her kids, "And with us around and our...insect friends," she waved a hand at the brood warriors accompanying them, "Well...I'm thinking of taking Leng's head as a hood ornament back at UGC headquarters. What do you think? Do you want the rest of him?"

That was the Jack he knew and remembered; not necessarily fondly, but at least she wasn't all rainbows and love. If she turned to that, then something would have been seriously wrong...or she was indoctrinated. She smiled, but it held a sadistic quality to it, images of what he wanted to do to the bastard flashing through his mind, "I think I like your thinking, Jack."

She sighed, leaning back against the bulkhead, "Sounds like a plan. Head is mine, you can have the rest. And maybe I'll cut off an ear for Rodriguez."

"Screw you, ma'am," the young woman replied deadpan, used to saying it now in response to her teacher's teasing.

"Now we just have to catch the pus-guy," Jack declared, cracking her knucles in glee, "Been too many weeks since I kicked some major ass. Now I can-"

The shuttle shook slightly from an impact, as if something had landed ontop of it. Marcus frowned, and then it turned into him unholstering his pistol when he heard the shuttle's guns spin to life, firing at something outside.  _We're being boarded._

The hatch suddenly blew open, the explosive residue of a satchel charge blowing away as the winds whipped at their own vulnerable forms. Down popped a phantom, its slim form dropping beside Javik and lashing out with its blade...

...only for one of the brood warriors to effortlessly pick her up and throw her out, body flailing through the air towards the hard concrete below. Another appeared, only for her to head to be instantly vaporized as superheated particles from Javik's rifle blew it right off. A third and final one appeared, this time raising its palm cannon in a readiness position, but Jack had enough and grabbed her with her biotics, flicking her wrists effortlessly.

"Get over here, bitch!" she roared, bringing the phantom close enough that they could touch, the phantom struggling in the teacher's biotic grip, "I've about had it with Cerberus! Fuck you and  _die_!" With that, she suddenly slammed her down against the deck, the twin cracks of legs breaking not easily heard over the wind outside, but it didn't matter much. Next, she was launched back, her head crushed as she hit the wall with enough force for her head to become wedged inside. Her brain reduced to liquid inside a shattered skull, the phantom was unceremoniously tossed outside to join her friend, knocking into the decapitated one Javik had killed, sending both falling outside, winds blowing them away like leaves.

Suddenly, machine gun fire raked their side, a Cerberus gunship appearing at their side, gun aimed right at them. Jack maniacally, sending a flurry of warps at the enemy vessel, all of them pinging harmlessly on its barrier. But soon she was joined by the brood warriors, and then Liara, and then Javik. Eventually, Marcus shrugged and summoned his own biotics, sending multiple warps in quick secession.

It was unable to stand up to the immense assault, and the first warp to break through vaporized bullets as it impacted the chin gun, disintegrating it at the atomic level. Soon, the gun was nothing but dust, and the gunship attempted to break off.

Only for the rachni shuttle to turn and fire, a lucky shot piercing the cockpit. Blood blew out from the hole, blowing away with the wind before the gunship hurled through the air, eventually coming to smash into the Delinaga Concert Hall, one wing shorn off while its fuel ignited, causing a great big pillar of flame to extend into the sky. And the rachni shuttle just continued.

Jack laughed, turning back to Marcus, her biotics dimming to nothing, "That was not-"

He had to grab onto Jack to stop her from falling from the shuttle as it suddenly jolted, something in the shuttle exploding...

...and ceasing all forward movement, beginning a fast, and rapid, descent.

"What the fuck just happened!?" he ordered, confused at the sudden turn of events.  _Why are we crashing!?_

_That gunship managed to score a hit on our port-side thruster, Singer of Light._

_We recommend that bracing songs be sung. This vehicle does not contain escape pods._

"Just fucking wonderful!" he cursed, grabbing a hold of the one of the bulkheads, "Everybody, brace for impact! We're coming in hard!"

_The Singer of Hatred has landed near the area you call the Consort Chambers. We will crash land nearby. We will need to move quickly to catch up. Songs of Unity are on the way._

He nodded, watching the rest of his squad grab hold of the nearest crevice for protection, not getting too close so as to avoid injury, and staying close enough to avoid being yanked away by the impact, "Hold on every-"

The shuttle hit the ground with the force of a bomb, likely sending tremors throughout the area around them. It was strong enough that Marcus had to use his biotics to shield himself from a flying piece of debris, the metal sheered off and twisted, but the brood warrior beside him was not so lucky, sliced in half by the projectile, green blood spraying everywhere.

Jack erected a biotic barrier around herself and her students, protecting them even as they were thrown to the ground. The rest of his team was thrown about, but managed to hold steady, even as the shuddering vehicle ceased all movement.

He felt groggy and weak, but those feelings were beginning to evaporate as his cybernetics fueled his blood with adrenaline. He forced himself up, releasing his death grip on the bulkhead which had strained his finger muscles, forcing him to flex them to get feeling back into them. He shook his head, turning to his squad, "Everyone alright?"

 _Our song continues, Singer of Light,_ replied one of the brood warriors, with only one having died during the crash.

"I think I broke a rib," James groaned, "But I should be fine, loco."

"Fit for duty, sir," Keeling reported.

One by one, his squad declared their safety and even Jack and her students seemed fine. The pilots were more likely dead, and he didn't even know what they had crashed into. Just where were they?

Retrieving his rifle, he hurried rushed outside through the open hatch, scanning the area. Luckily, no Cerberus rushed to meet them on this side of the area. From what he could see, they were within the Financial District of the Presidium, remembering from his early travels of the Citadel during the Eden Prime War. As he turned, from what he could discern, their shuttle had smashed through what had been Barla Von's office, stopping just sort of completely trashing it, having gone through the wall and crumbled it. Smoke poured from its ruined engines, and from what Marcus could tell, the other side would take them towards the Consort's Chambers.

As he motioned for his squad to fall out, he observed the battle taking place around them. He was just in time to watch a UGC shuttle's flaming wreck slam into the lake, sending up a tremendous burst of water flying into the air, only for the offending Cerberus shuttle to be obliterated by a rocket, Marcus finding the source to be an Alliance marine carrying a ML-79 Missile Launcher; a superior version to the 78, and better still to the more common 77. Their mission complete, the marines continued on, backed up by at least half a dozen rachni and a few hanar foot soldiers (foot, for lack of a better term).

Turning to the battle ahead of them; between them and the Consort Chambers, he jumped behind the shuttle, avoiding a stray bullet. He poked his head out, Jack and her students along with his team observing the battle ahead.

It was a battlefield, alright. Whatever Citadel militia and C-Sec forces had teamed up with the UGC relief forces to tackle the Cerberus invaders. He watched two assault troopers collapse from bullet holes to their chest, and the shields of a centurion explode in brilliant light as an asari Eclipse merc fired her weapon before charging forward in a biotic charge, sending said centurion flying into a wall, the crack of bones signalling his untimely death.

He watched four Blood Pack vorcha surround and devour another assault trooper, the soldier managing to summon their enhanced strength and snap the neck of one, only for that to be replaced as they tore his armor off of his body, tossed it away and began peeling away strips of flesh, the soldier screaming as he was consumed.

He watched, with some amusement, as two elcor with cannons strapped to their backs lit up, immense flashes permeating their skin as they sent shell after shell pounding into an Atlas. They were joined by five Blood Pack krogan who made short work of the heavy mech's shields, and eventually penetrated his cockpit. Another shot from one elcor blew off one of its legs, before another impacted and detonated the rockets inside the Atlas' arm, a raging inferno consuming the pilot and the mech as both were totally destroyed, reducing the mech to smoldering wreckage.

An Eclipse and Cerberus gunship danced a deadly dance, tearing into each other with machine guns and rockets. But due to the skill of the Cerberus pilot, the eclipse gunship found itself annihilated in seconds, collapsing into the lake below it. The Cerberus gunship savoured its victory, only for said ship to soon be ambushed by two more gunships, these ones salarian, who made short work of it, rockets impacting its hull and scattering its ruined remains across the Emporium. Overall, victory seemed assured for the UGC.

 _Cerberus picked a fight with a much bigger dog. And this one isn't limited to three heads._ He motioned to his team, formulating a plan in his head as he turned to the brood warriors. A grin crossed his face.

A minute later, Marcus emerged from behind the shuttle, surprising the Cerberus reinforcements from behind. Flanked by brood warriors, the three of them lit up simultaneously, sending triple bolts of blinding light towards the enemy rear, their biotic shockwaves tearing bloody ribbons into their ranks as assault troopers were tossed, centurions were evicerated, a combat engineer was slammed against a wall, and a phantom was sent skidding, only for her head to be caved in as an elcor stepped on her skull, crushing it completely and spreading red gore all over.

Upon the arrival of Marcus' squad, it turned from battlefield to bloodbath.

For Cerberus, anyway. Whatever hopes the Illusive Man had of victory had long since fallen out of the window, and Marcus only had one objective yet to foil; assassinating the Council.

Then he could kill Leng.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1401 hours._

_Area outside Consort's Chambers, Financial District, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War, The Citadel Siege._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, EDI, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

As soon as he reeled the corner, his weapon was already downrange and ready to fire.

Thankfully for him, and also oddly, Leng had not gotten there yet. He should have gotten their first, but from what Marcus could see, there was no sign of him.

A C-Sec painted kodiak shuttle lay hanging on its side, ready to fall into the lake but still holding desperately onto dry land. Its hull was aflame; its hatch ajar and a body, a salarian officer, leaning over the edge, body singed and burnt and blackened. Bullet holes, large ones, littered its hull, largely high penetration rounds; a testament to what had taken down the vehicle.

Standing beside it were the bewildered Council themselves, surrounded by the bodies of dead civilians, including even, to his disgust, a few children, their bodies coated in blood; whether it was theirs or not, he did not know.

Tevos looked panicky and jittery, unable to comprehend her situation. Sparatus looked calm and collected, although Marcus suspected the absence of their salarian colleague and the situation they were in did not help matters.

Beside them, and working tenaciously at his console, was Udina. The man had a clear sheen of sweat dripping down his forehead, hair likely coated in the foul liquid and his eyes looked twitchy, obviously from his terror. He didn't know what he was typing on the terminal, as it was a rapid transit terminal and those were shut down per the station emergency, but it had to be a product of the human councilor's fear.

On their right was a salarian, one Marcus remembered with some difficulty; a spectre named Jondam Bau. And beside Udina, back turned to him and rifle scanning the area around them, was a face he would never forget. His heart swelled with pride at the spectre insignia stamped on the back of his armor, and he almost grinned, if it wasn't for the imminent danger.  _Kaidan...he actually made spectre..._

Ordering his team to lower his weapons, while leaving Javik to keep a watch of the area to make sure Leng, when or if he turned up, didn't get the jump on them, and most certainly didn't get near the Council.

He moved towards them, rushing towards the oblivious group with intense urgency, "Kaidan!"

The man turned around, instincts kicking in as he took aim with his rifle at the possible threat. Instead, he lowered it when he saw his mentor's face, the man wearing an eye piece lack of Garrus' over one eye. He smiled, bringing his weapon into lower parry as Bau did the same, the rest of the Council looking immensely relieved at the captain's arrival, "Shepard! Nice of you to turn up; thought we'd have to deal with this ourselves!"

He chuckled, coming close to slap the man on the back, "You know me; I like to be right where the action is. I wasn't exactly a full Cerberus siege of the Citadel, but hey, I'm not complaining," he sobered, remembering the likely sacrifice Thane made, and the many civilians who died due to Cerberus' ambitions.  _I will dismantle Cerberus for what was done here...I should have done so months ago._ He shook that thought away, knowing the past would not help him, and they could only count on themselves now, "Never mind that though. We need to get the Council out of here; Kai Leng is here, and he's coming for them," he pointed straight at Tevos, Sparatus and Udina, as if the intended target required clarification.

Kaidan nodded, bringing his rifle to lean against his shoulder, "Then we need to get out of here," he turned to Udina, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing, "Councilor, we need to leave now. Evacuation by shuttle is no longer a viable option."

He swore he saw Udina curse under his breath, biting his lower lip before pulling away, as if his anxiety had disappeared in an instant, turning to Kaidan with a glint in his eyes, "Yes, of course you are correct, Major. However, there is one final problem we must acknowledge and address, as it would seem we have a traitor within our ranks."

Kaidan frowned, just as deeply as Marcus did, "Who?"

Udina nodded to Marcus, turning back to Kaidan, "Spectre, I request that you detain or execute Marcus Shepard immediately on boundaries for treason."

The man looked flabbergasted, and Marcus' hand moved to his weapon on reflex, before pulling away as Kaidan incredulously asked, "Udina, you better have a damn good reason for this...accusation. Some basic evidence."

"There is none needed. The facts are there," Udina insisted, glaring at Marcus with a look of disgust, "The man worked with Cerberus! And now that Cerberus attacks the Citadel, he just happens to turn up to help us? A fairly sizable coincidence, Major. If you ask me, that would seem very well-timed. As a consequence, I believe that Captain Shepard is still in league with Cerberus, and therefore, by sanction of the Council, order him to detained. Effective immediately. I'm sure the Council can agree on this."

"No, I don't," came the voice of one of the people Marcus never thought would back him up.

Udina spun to face Sparatus, eyes incredulously as he practically snarled in anger, spittle flying from his mouth, "The man is a traitor! He has betrayed the Council and left the Citadel in ruin! He would aid and abet a terrorist organization, while bringing an assassin right to us! For all we know, he  _could_ be the assassin! He needs to be dealt with  _immediately_!"

"I'd be quiet if I were you, Councilor," came Kasumi's voice, crossing her arms and glaring dangerously at the man, "Noone believes you, and you're digging a pretty big grave for yourself."

Udina growled, turning to Kaidan, "Major, I made you a spectre. You owe me. Don't be a fool and see this for the threat that it is! If we don't deal with Shepard now, he could endanger all of us! You are the right arm of the Council; an instrument of our will! Your job is to defend us also, but should I tell the Council I made a mistake by choosing you? Surely I must have; if you're not willing to do what's right."

As Udina pleaded his case, Marcus could only examine the man; his unique mannerisms. During the short three years he had known the man, he had risen from a human ambassador to human councilor, and along the way he had developed his own little mannerisms; the odd movement, the flick of a wrist, the way they presented themselves. It all opened a gateway to one's personality; to unhatch secrets they thought contained but were being broadcated to the world; it just took a well-trained eye to spot it.

Udina was a well-dressed man, and with a passion for politics and a cosmopolitan attitude, Udina developed an affinity for a rigid posture, nervous twitching and arrogant swagger that really pissed Marcus off over the years. However, all these little signs were absent as he observed Udina in that instant; he was more twitchy than usual, and under all the passion in his voice, there was a shaky uncertainty; a fear, a trepidation that what he was saying might not work. Like he himself didn't believe that Marcus was guilty of the crimes he accused him of.

The sweat on his forehead drew beads down his skin, and seemed to perputuate; to increase in quantity. He seemed to gulp an awful lot, his adam's apple shifting up and down in tune to his swallowing. These were all the characteristics of someone who was nervous, unsure of himself and with something hide.

The characteristics of a liar.

But why would Udina lie? Sure, the both of them hadn't been on very good terms; they rarely were, especially when it came to the Reaper threat. It had only been during the initial stages of the war that they had become hand-in-hand in protecting humanity, Udina's stature to show the saddened human behind the political figure; that he genuinely cared about his species and the Fall of Earth had hit him hard. The fact that he had known every member of the Alliance Parliament on a personal basis had only hit that point home...hard.

But they still, even then, just couldn't agree on many things, and it hadn't helped that Udina was a Council kissass; always sucking up to them. But even then, after all that, Udina had no reason to hate Marcus on such a level as to fabricate lies about him. So why else would he liar? Characteristics of a liar were a need to hide something, or to rid themselves of someone before they dug too deep into the equation to discover the truth...

In the end, the pieces fell together like a well-ordained puzzle. His desperate need to protect humanity. His calm serenity when it came to Cerberus. The sweat on his forehead. The need to delay the Council's leave. It all made sense. And it  _enraged him._

All along, they had been played for  _fools._  The face of the enemy had always been there; for three years or for however long, they had been there. And now all their cards were on the table.

He did not hesitate. He drew his pistol in an instant, taking aim dead center on Udina's face. The human councilor's eyes widened in shock and, despite their surprise, his squad raised their weapons as well, not quite sure why their captain was aiming at the human councilor but trusting him enough to follow his lead, if it offered an explanation.

Kaidan, however, based on instinct, raised his weapon at Marcus, and this time, he did not lower so quickly, "Shepard, what the hell are you doing?"

He ignored him, all his anger fuelling his movements as his glare, capable of melting steel, bore into Udina's skull, "You snivelling little rat. You fucking  _snitch._ How long, Udina? How long ago was it? How long have you been in the Illusive Man's pocket?"

Despite the situation, he tried to play the oblivious one, "I have no idea what you are-

"Enough with the fucking  _lies_!" he spat, coming closer, conscious to the fact that Kaidan was still aiming at him, but his grip seemed to lessen at his accusation, "How  _long_!? Since I first met you on the Citadel when we were chasing Saren? When the Council grounded me? When I died over Alchera? During the Battle of the Citadel? Was it during my campaign against the Collectors? Or is this recent? Did the Illusive Man use your desperation to protect our people to forward his own goals? What did he offer you, Udina? Hmmm? What the fuck did he offer you!"

It was clear his cover was blown and in a flash, before Marcus could act, distracted his own fury, Udina had stepped up and tore the predator pistol from Kaidan's hip, pulling out and letting it extend as he dashed forward, grabbing Tevos from around the collar and holding her against him, pinning his commandeered pistol against the side of her head.

He glared at Marcus, nothing resembling pity in his eyes, "You want to know what he offered me, Shepard? He offered me  _Earth._ The Illusive Man said he had a way to defeat the Reapers, to save Earth! While you were out fighting this hopeless war, the Illusive Man was already finding ways to defeat them! Cerberus was at the head, and he promised he could save our species, Shepard! Tell me, what would you have done in my position? Hmm? What would you have  _done_?"

Marcus fingered the trigger, replying calmly as understanding dawned in his eyes, "You made a pact with the devil to save our people. Udina, I understand that. I don't respect your choice, but you did it out of desperation. But that doesn't justify what was done here! People have died; innocent people! Cerberus has played you for a fool! And you're in bed with the real  _enemy_!"

Udina shook his head, arm wrapping around Tevos' neck in a headlock to stop her struggling, Sparatus now standing behnd Bau who pointed his weapon at Udina, but did not fire. Kaidan was doing the same, with Marcus and his squad, more or less, in the exact same position. But none of them could fire without possibly getting the asari councilor killed, "The Illusive Man said there was a price for victory! He needed the Citadel if saving Earth was to work? What are a few thousand dead aliens compared to our people, he said! So I was to be his main operative! To secure the future for our species! And he would break the cycle! End it all!"

"Are you even listening to yourself? You're delusional! The Illusive Man doesn't intend to destroy the Reapers! He doesn't even realize the fact that he never intends to  _defeat them_ ," he snapped, lowering his weapon slightly, "Don't you see it? He's  _indoctrinated._ Cerberus is  _indoctrinated._ They are as much in the Reapers' pocket as you are in theirs! They've played you for a tool, Udina! Nothing but their  _tool._ They used you to gain access to the Citadel, used your weakened state to get into the Citadel using your help. Innocent people are dying because of you!"

Udina sighed, snorting as he shook his head, pistol shifting, "I am not the one is indoctrinated, Shepard. Neither is the Illusive Man. You are the one who is compromised; the Illusive Man wants to control the Reapers, and I say he is right! We can't destroy them, so we must  _control them!_  All of you are fools; Valern with his squabbling, Tevos with her arbitrary nonsense and Sparatus with his damn military tactics! All of you are wrong! Cerberus has it right and will save us," he turned to Marcus, a gleam of venom in his eyes, "You would doom us all, Shepard."

_"But you would undo my work. You would doom our entire civilization to complete annihilation."_

Those had been Saren's words. And in that very moment, he saw the comparison between that and Udina. The councilor wasn't just in Cerberus' pocket.

He was indoctrinated.

"How long you ask?" Udina ask, tsking as he reshifted his position to fully face Marcus, "Since after your little charade on Menae, when you rescued the turian primarch. That's when they came to me...a man named Geoff Dielheart...he told me of the Illusive Man's offer. He offered to save the entire human race; all he needed was my cooperation. Out of necessity, I gave myself to Cerberus. To the human race," he growled, "And nothing you say will sway me; I did the right thing. I know for a certainty I did. You're just too blind to see it."

He shook his head, taking careful, "If you won't listen to reason, Udina, then you're leaving me no choice."

The councilor could only give a bitter chuckle, Tevos' cheek creasing inwards as the barrel of his weapon pressed further into it, "No, it is you who will not see reason. When backed against a wall, humanity must either fold, or do what as a feral dog would; claw its way out. I may be in bed with the enemy, but if that secures our survival? That is a price I will pay gladly. Reason has passed by you Shepard; I have simply accepted the brutal reality of it."

He gave no response, his face forming a cold line as he gripped his pistol harder. With Udina beyond reasoning, he knew he had to take the man out before he hurt and killed Tevos. Still, there wasn't a viable solution; simply attempting to shoot him wasn't a good idea, as he could possibly miss, no matter how accurate he is, and kill the asari councilor. He couldn't take that chance. There had to be another way.

Then his eyes met Tevos', and he saw something in them. She met his eyes, a glimmer of hope in them. She...believed in him? No, that couldn't be it; that was too corny and predictable. No...her eyes hinted at a plan. What kind of plan unless she was a biotic, there wasn't much she could-

_You dull-witted idiot! She's an asari, of course she's a biotic!_

He gave a nod, not one Udina would understand, not that he was paying attention anyway, slowly moving towards the rapid transit terminal, as if waiting for something to arrive to pick him up...

In an instant, Tevos let out a cry as her body rippled, channelling blue energy in an explosion that released Udina's hold on her, his arm coming to his side as he was launched against the fence, holding firm on his stolen pistol. The man was wide-eyed, surprised, and even winced at the pain that lanced up his back from the impact of being thrown back, but he would recover in seconds. Marcus had to act. To end the threat.

Tevos ran towards Bau, the salarian motioning her over to Sparatus, where the turian willingly grabbed her by the shoulder and stood behind their salarian protector, who took aim at Udina, steadily and calmly.

Realizing his vulnerable position, Udina made one last ditch attempt to take care of his pariah. He raised his pistol, moving to take aim at Mar-

One shot echoed through the Presidium, drowned out by the battle behind them, but loud enough for the others to hear quite easily.

A pistol clattered to the ground, blood dripping down a clean, crisp business suit, staining its black and gold finish. His eyes twitched for a moment before the life left them, crimson gore travelling down the back of his ruined head from where Marcus' bullet had exited out the back of his head.

After a moment, Udina's body froze for a final time and slumped to the ground with a thud, blood seeping from his head and soaking into the polished floor, now tarnished by the horrors of war.

Marcus heard the shuttle above. Udina's getaway vehicle, he assumed. As he looked up however, his eyes met that of Leng's, who glared back with icy indifference, body once again battered and bruised from his battle with Thane. He snarled from where he was. Despite himself, Marcus raised his hand, and let his middle finger stand out amongst all the rest.

Leng showed no sign of retaliation for the gesture and the hatch simply closed, the Cerberus shuttle shooting off down the Presidium, the son of a bitch having escaped once more.  _The man seems to be more of a coward than an actual opponent. Sure, Saren escaped, but at least he kicked my ass before doing it. Now its the other way 'round._ But Marcus hadn't forgotten Thane's sacrifice. Jacob and Byp's murders.  _His life seems to be shortening very quickly._

He turned, the silence among the group almost desperate. Tevos and Sparatus simply stared at the body of their former colleague turned sleeping agent, Bau calmly and coldly kicking his dead corpse and rolling it over, patting him down to make sure he wasn't wired with an explosive device. Kaidan simply sighed, shaking his head.

"I can't believe it..." the man lamented, still incredulous as to all that had happened, "I figured there was a traitor in his ranks, but never could I have believed that Udina was behind it all. How...just how could he..."

Then, his comm buzzed, "Shepard, this is Bailey. Come in, Shepard. You read?"

He keyed the comm to respond, "This is Shepard. We've got the Council, although we're one down. Udina..." he gulped, watching as Bau, satisfied Udina wasn't booby-trapped, commed his omni-tool to contact any UGC forces in the area, "...he turned out to be a traitor. Cerberus had him in their bag. Promised him the liberation of Earth if he gave them the Citadel. He's...he's dead. He was holding Tevos hostage...I had to remove the threat."

"This day just gets better and better. I knew Udina was a bit suspicious from the moment he promoted me to Commander, but I didn't think he was capable of treason," Bailey elaborated, exhaling heavily at the revelation, "Still, I'm more concerned as to who's going to fill his role; usually Parliament would elect another human representative as councilor, but since they aren't all there anymore..."

"We'll figure out who takes over who later," Marcus replied, conflicted by the same thing, but not willing to linger on it, "What's the situation with the Citadel?"

Bailey scoffed, a good sign apparently, "It's all gone downhill...for Cerberus at least. UGC liberated Huerta Memorial, or rather 'lifted the siege,' as the buggers were still holding out when they got there. The Refugee Camp's been liberated, although I heard Cerberus had turned that place into a short-lived concentration camp; there's alot of bodies. The Commons have been retaken, as well as the Citadel Tower, the Emporium and C-Sec Headquarters, and from I read that they're being driven from the Financial District. I don't know the situation with the Wards, but they can't be much worse than down here; Cerberus hit the Presidium the hardest. I'm just glad the Council survived, even if Udina did turn out to be a dud. I've got rachni cleaning out the halls now; its just clean up now."

"Heard anything about the Cerberus fleet in orbit?" he asked, curious.

"Not a peep. Although I doubt they're fairing better than they are down here," he declared, probably rolling his eyes, "Not much they can do against a three fleet liberation force. I'm more inclined to begin counting their corpses."

He nodded, "Get me Fleet Admiral Hackett if you can. The Council...I'll get them over to C-Sec HQ as quickly as possible. They aren't safe until the Presidium is fully secured. Shepard out," with that, he cut the comm, sighing as he cracked his neck, and the fatigue began to set in. Many had lost their lives today, and all because of Cerberus.

Sometimes, he wondered just who the enemy was.

Was he really fighting Cerberus?

Or was he just fighting the Reapers? Different people, same face.

For Marcus Shepard, the differences were beginning to blur.

**{Loading...}**

_June 22, 2186_

_1416 hours._

_Conference Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance, In FTL inbound for unspecified cluster, unspecified system._

_The Reaper War._

_Operative Kai Leng._

"I seem to have lost contact with Fleet Admiral Terrence," TIM replied as he studied Leng's holographic form, regarding him with a potentially less than happy expression, "Yet you are the only one to actually initiate contact with me. Operative Leng, I would hope this is not bad news you are bringing me. I would like to think that the Citadel is almost mine, you succeeded in killing the Council and Udina is in control. That our little coup d'etat didn't entirely blow up in our faces. Am I right to be this optimistic?"

Leng growled, gritting his teeth as his head throbbed, his cybernetics still hard at work at healing the bruise that drell filth had put on him. His throat was dry, and he tried to ignore the feeling of the blood crusted on his upper lip and chin, the feeling of his broken nose healing painful, but bearable. He had a long list of injuries, but for the most part he was happy. He had probably put another one of Shepard's disgusting alien group into the grave. Granted, the first one hadn't been alien, but it seemed that accidentally killing that suit-rat's... _husband..._ as much as he loathed to relate the word to xenos, had angered Shepard, filling him with glee.

Despite that however, he had to acknowledge, grudgingly, that the drell had been an impressive warrior. He had very nearly defeated Leng.

He sighed, bringing himself to answer, "The siege...did not go as planned," instead of batting the bush, he decided to just give it all to the man. He wasn't one for being blunt, "Operation: Deathstroke was a failure. The Council remains in control, the UGC has liberated the Citadel and Udina is dead."

The Illusive Man sighed, a puff of smoke erupting from between his lips in a column, rubbing his temples in what Leng imagined was growing irritation, "Udina was expendable. What disappoints me is your sheer lack of competence in the missions I give you. You keep assuring me that you will get the job done, yet you bring me nothing but failure. I asked Terrence to give me the Citadel; I asked you to give me the Council's heads."

Leng, despite the futility of it, went on the defensive, "It couldn't be helped. I-"

"Do not even begin. I read Commander Banes' report. I know Shepard and the Normandy was there," he snapped, his calm demeanour breaking for but a moment, "I was pleased to hear that the Deliverance's field testing was a success. She actually managed to disable the Normandy. Alass, she is not destroyed as I would have wished, but it is a step in the right direction. Proof that Shepard can no longer continue to hamper our operations unabated," he met Leng's gaze in an instant, "But Shepard's arrival does not excuse your inability to get the mission done. I gave you the Deliverance, yet here I read that the thanix cannon, your  _greatest_ asset, was not just disabled by the Normandy,  _it was destroyed._ You had the Normandy matched for firepower, but even when disabled, it managed to beat you."

"I did not give the order to engage the Normandy!" he spat back, hissing as his breathing intensified, "Banes acted against orders!"

"As I am aware," he replied, "And he shall be dealt with in a seperate manner. But I cannot ignore what has been shown here, Leng. Thanks to your incompetence, I have now lost yet another fleet, another fleet admiral, and more precious resources have been spent on a fruitless operation. Not only are we back to square one on stopping the Crucible, but now I've lost a tremendous amount of military manpower. Something that is not that easy to replace. Do you realize how much Henry Lawson has done for us? Project February isn't as easy as it seems, Leng; people must be procured. And refugees are not unlimited. Not with the Reapers invading. You've cost me time, patience and resources, Leng, and what do you give me? Nothing."

"Sir, I-" he cut himself off, out of energy to argue, "I can kill Shepard. I swear it. I just need the right opportunity. I will personally bring his head to your-"

"You make it sound like I have resigned you to your fate," he replied, cold, synthetic blue eyes regarding him almost casually, "That is not the case. While your constant failures do grate on my nerves, you are still my most useful asset. You're the only assassin I have with a high enough kill record and, with some reluctance to say it, you are the only operative I have currently capable of matching Shepard in combat. You will continue to serve me, as you have always done, but I expect better effort next time."

Leng was relieved, although he wouldn't show it. He would never show weakness. He was strong, stronger than that suit-rat lover, and stronger than that drell worm; he had proven that. He had sent that blade right through his chest, practically able to smell the sweet aroma of his blood dripping down his blade. The kill had been sweet, being able to see the look of horror on Shepard's face even more delectable. He would savour the man's agony. Agony made men angry, and angry men made mistakes. Stupid mistakes. Mistakes that got people killed. And when Shepard was agonized, when he got angry enough to make that stupid mistake, Leng would be there, ready to slice his throat wide open.

But only after he had captured his precious quarian and made him watch as he disemboweled her, ripped her tongue out, and then-

"However, I am hereby relieving you of command of the Deliverance," TIM stated cooly, unaware of Leng's dark, hateful thoughts, "You've shown complete inability to command a warship, and given the Deliverance's firepower and technology, I believe it would be better suited in the hands of Commander Banes; despite losing his thanix cannon, something we shall fix once you have returned to base, he did manage to cripple the Normandy in combat, and that's the edge we need. I am hereby instating Armistan Banes as captain of the Deliverance, and demoted you to the ship's assassin. You will go where I order you to, but the Deliverance will follow. She will be a constant in your life, but you will not command it."

This was not that heavy of a blow to Leng; in the end, he had seen that coming. As much as he was loath to admit it, Shepard was a far better tactician than he was. The man was the Lion of Elysium, having coordinated an evacuation of the city by himself while facing off against an army of 10,000 singe-handedly. He was the Butcher of Torfan, the man who had stormed a batarian stronghold after his squad was slaughtered and had butchered everyone inside. He was the damn Survivor of Akuze; responsible for surviving a thresher maw attack that took the lives of fifty of his fellow marines. He wasn't just the best damn tactician out there; luck was the  _constant_ in his life. And something Leng couldn't hope to match.

But on the ground, he had a better chance. Granted, Shepard was still a capable warrior and well-rehearsed in combat; he was an N7, just like Leng had been. But on the ground, they were evenly matched. They both had cybernetics, they both were N7s, and both of them were combatants. The only advantage Shepard had was biotics, and the only one Leng had was agility and speed.

Losing the Deliverance would not hurt him; it revitalized him. He no longer had command of a ship to worry about, and could focus solely on killing Shepard. On the slow destruction of everything he loved so very dearly. It would be a long, slow process, but Leng would break Marcus Shepard, and once he had killed that suit-rat that he was so damn devoted too, he would kill the man himself. And only then...would Leng's purpose be complete.

"Do you understand me, Leng?" The Illusive Man demanded, "Inform Banes he is now in command. I will expect you to see me personally when you arrive back at headquarters. For now, go to the doctor. Get healed. I'm going to need to debrief you. Deathstroke was one of our most vital operations, but with it a failure, we're going to need to think more carefully. Rely on espionage more than brute force. Illusive Man out."

Leng stepped out of the conference room when he was done, moving through the Tech Lab and stepping out onto the CIC. He groaned, deciding he would tell Banes after he had gotten his medical checkup. He moved towards the elevator, ignoring the yeoman's sloppy salute and the salutes of the two assault troopers protecting it. He simply glared. Glowed. Reenergized himself.

A reckoning was coming.

And Shepard would die  _screaming._

**"A bitter conclusion, knowing Udina was a traitor. But it worked out in the end, I guess. And it did help the war effort."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It did indeed. It raised awareness about the war. People can looking at the bigger picture instead of their own little picture. Cerberus' attack, despite its brutality, might have actually made all the difference."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**About damn time, huh?** _

_**Look, school's an asshole and I was out of juice. I needed to play some Halo and watch some Better Call Saul to get me back into action. Besides, in two weeks my term one ends and I get two weeks worth of holidays (Yay! Yay?), so maybe I'll get more progress then?** _

_**So close to Tali now! Can you hear that? That sounds like Talimancing. Just three more chapters...just three more...and the geth/quarian arc begins, and our beloved quarian returns...** _

_**I hope I've made Leng sufficiently sinister. He, Banes and the Deliverance are going to be a much bigger part of this story than I originally intended.** _

_**Some of you are probably also wondering 'apart from From Ashes, are you going to do ANY of the DLC?' My answer to that is yes, but I wanted to wait until Tali was back before doing so. I will cover all the DLCs, Omega DLC being obvious due to my build-up to that in Requiem. I will also do Leviathan and, the one I'm looking forward to the most, the Citadel DLC, where I plan to add a few...things. Let's just say I plan to really expand upon Shepard's Clone more and really develop him. If he were a byproduct of Shepard's resurrection, wouldn't he have Shepard's memories before the Normandy's destruction? If so, maybe a part of him that loves Tali still remains...BUT THAT'S SPOILERS!** _

_**Let's just say that Holocaust as far too many subplots, but they are all so fantastic that I can't help but add them. Curse me all you want. :P** _

_**Next chapter's going to be a downer. Its practically devoted to Thane, and will include the funeral scene from the Citadel DLC that I think would have been more fitting to have now instead of later.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	35. Death Takes The Best, Life Keeps The Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Udina dead, humanity looks for a new representative to put on the Council. In the aftermath of the failed Cerberus invasion, the Shepard crew take the time to hold a funeral for Thane.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:**

**DEATH TAKES THE BEST, LIFE KEEPS THE WORST**

_June 22, 2186_

_1542 hours._

_Main Reception, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

It was like the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel all over again. For the second time in thousands of years, the Citadel's defenses had been breached and an enemy force had made landfall.

The official siege had ended with Leng's retreat and the Council's safe extraction; unofficially, it ended the moment those UGC reinforcements came through the relay. Cerberus didn't know what hit them, and within half an hour, it had all gone wrong; their fleet had been smashed, with only a hand full of ships escaping the carnage, with most of the enemy ground forces slaughtered.

It had been little over an hour ago since the UGC confirmed that the Presidium was liberated; there were no prisoners obviously, as they did not surrender nor were they allowed to. He had heard reports of what they did to the refugee camp; the mindless executions, the segregation of human and alien, the separation of families from their children...He even found out about Conrad Verner's sacrifice, having gotten the report from Lantar Sidonis, who had been careful to tell him when Garrus was not present. No, no prisoners. Cerberus took none in the camp, and they would find no exceptions on their side.

It was simply a matter now of clearing the Shalta Ward, which would be easier considering their troop concentration in that area would be far less; however, Cerberus hadn't entirely failed. They had managed to inflict some major damage to the infrastructure of the Council, as well as hampen the UGC.

C-Sec Headquarters had taken significant damage during the assault, with numerous precincts all over damaged by well-placed charges, a keeper tunnel network destroyed, and the Commons covered in debris. The lake was cluttered with wreckage and the streets were littered with the dead, civilian and officer alike. Those bodies intermixed with Cerberus of course, but they were present nonetheless.

But then there was the leadership. Many of the C-Sec commanders were killed in the initial stages of the planned invasion, including the executor. Without an executor, C-Sec was effectively without complete leadership, something which needed fixing; he had recommended Bailey for the position, but the man had rejected, saying he had enough paperwork as it was. However, if the man told true, it would appear that a veteran turian officer in command of the Kikowani Ward, Commander Decian Chellick, was well up his way on the ranks, and was a potential candidate for the position of Executor.

And then there was the loss of the human councilor, Donnel Udina. Marcus had known him since this entire adventure of his began, right from the beginning of the Eden Prime War to the present day. He hadn't been the warmest man to work with, but it had worked, and Udina at least had a goal he stuck to. Never would he have thought that the man could have been capable of such treachery and deceit; to sell them out to Cerberus like he did. And with him dead, his death left a void in the Council that needed to be filled. At current, it was back to where it had been three years ago; Valern, Tevos and Sparatus. And with Parliament gone, they had no recommendations to base their decisions off of.

Luckily however, a solution was rapidly showing itself. It turned out there had been many human politicians on the Citadel during the time of the attack on Earth, including Shadow Minister Dominic Osoba; a wealthy man who was one of the rarer political archetypes; a man who loved politics but didn't let it get in the way of what was logical, and made sure that whatever decisions he made was best not just for humanity, but for all the races as well. He was the perfect man for the job, and just the kind this war needed. Like Winston Churchill, he was a wartime leader; not much good in peace time, but a unifier during conflict. Osoba was just the man they needed.

He tapped his foot as the elevator ascended, gazing at the door in thought. Blood stains coated the walls, but he elected to ignore them, knowing where they came from; he had been the one to pull out the dead dragoon to begin with.

However, Cerberus' attack had left an unintentional result; it had given people a wakeup call to what was happening out in the galaxy. For a whole month since the war began, the citizens of the Citadel had remained blissfully ignorant of the conflict going on around them; of the fight for survival. Sure, they had seen the odd news report, but they were on one of the safest stations in the galaxy; they could just seal up the station if they got attacked and whether out the assault. What did they have to worry about?

But now Cerberus had brought it to their doorstep; brought the death and destruction to their homes, to their families, to their playgrounds and schools. And while the civilian death toll was too much to properly account for, it showed a clear picture; the Citadel wasn't as safe as they were made to believe. As serene, beautiful, tranquil and fortified as it may have seemed, it was just as vulnerable as Sur'Kesh, as Thessia, as every other untouched world in the galaxy. The Citadel could be attacked, it could be taken, and it was by no means invincible. And now people were aware of that. Change was occurring.

The numbers of members joining private militias had doubled. C-Sec employment was suddenly going through the roof. Many reconsidered their enlistment in mercenary organizations, and others enrolled for leadership positions in embassies, or, in extreme cases, conscripted themselves into whatever government they pledged allegiance too; the number of fresh recruits for the Alliance marines had tripled; almost too much for them to deal with.

And then came the best result: the Council. It had taken three years, but he had finally forced them into action and the fruits of his labour finally began to paint a picture. The Turian Hierarchy and Volus Protectorate had declared fealty to the UGC upon the curing of the genophage, so all Sparatus could really do was thank him and reaffirm their loyalty to his cause.

But then there was Tevos and Valern. The salarian councilor not only wanted to pin him with every medal they could think of, but he had actively declared Thane a hero, thanking him personally and promising to do all in his power to ensure that Marcus got the forces he so sorely needed.

He had done more than that; he had effectively  _vetoed_ Linron's decision to pull back their forces, managed to overrule the Dalatrasi (which could only be done with a full four (three, without Udina present) votes by the entirety of the Council, as well as all the embassies) and secured the allegiance of the Salarian Union to the UGC. In the end, Marcus had gotten those fresh ships, troops and engineers after all, and even now, Kirrahe was sending whatever engineers he had to Hackett, who would have them secretly transported to the Crucible.

Then there was Tevos; never did he see her sudden change coming. She had made it clear that while she would discuss with the Asari Republics whether or not to join the UGC, their forces could not be fully utilized while the Reapers pressed down on their borders, but they would help when the Crucible was ready. Defend it to the last asari, she had said. And with that, she had effectively told him 'the asari are yours.'

In the span of a day, he had strengthened C-Sec, the militias and the people, as well as gaining the Salarian Union and, possibly, the Asari Republics. And it was all thanks to Cerberus.

Despite the grim situation, Marcus couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips, elevator coming to a stop as he stepped out and into the corridor, making a sharp right turn as he made towards the Huerta Memorial Hospital entrance.

_Thanks timmy. You tried to hampen my progress, but you only acellerated it. I couldn't owe you more if I tried._

In moments he reached the entrance, taking a moment to politely nod at the two workers crouched on either side of it, moving pieces of torn metal and rubble out of the way, the door no longer existent since Cerberus blew it open. He also noticed the large, red puddle of dried blood coating the floor, a sign of the terrorists who had fallen there. Out of all the institutions around the Presidium, Huerta Memorial had put up the fiercest resistance, actually managing to hold off the Cerberus troops until UGC troops came to lift the burden and broke their line. Still, the lost door was a testament to just how much damage was done.

He stepped inside, taking note of the main reception area. More blood littered the walls and floor, dried and reeking of bitter essences, with bullet holes and scorch coating the ceiling and walls, with some of them chipped and frayed and worn by explosions. Tables and chairs that had been overturned now stood upright again, but rather haphazardly. Some didn't stand up at all; piled up in a corner due to blown off limbs or simply being too shredded to be of any use.

The room was a flurry of activity. People of numerous species rushed about the room, shouting at each other in hused or frustrated voices. Screams of agony could occassionally be heard, along with the occassional shout for 'more morphine!' or 'someone give me some help over here!' Overall, it was chaos.

Among it all, he heard the crying of children. Turning, he saw a weeping human child clutching onto a weeping turian child of the same age and height, holding each other tightly and crying, their parent nearby and arguing with an asari nurse, the woman looking increasingly anxious and stressed.

His mind sobered, the thoughts of his victory disappearing as he observed the room. How could he celebrate in a place like this? How could he when so many were suffering from the losses of spouses or families? So much suffering.

It was...it was becoming overwhelming.

Selfishly, he found himself crossing his arms, wishing for the feel of Tali's arms around him, comforting him. Mostly, it was just so he could know she was safe. But it was also because he couldn't bear to look at this any longer; it was beginning to tear him up inside.

_**It will only continue...** _

He winced, moving past with increased vigour as he closed the distance between him the decon corridor leading into the main hospital. That damnable voice was back, and now the pain in his head was much stronger, more agonizing, and far more demanding. It never gave up tormenting him. Never surrendered its constant mental assault. It invaded the deepest recesses of his mind, trying to rid him of his most basic moments of silence.

_**...you cannot hope to resist us...your fall will come...** _

He thought of Tali, of how much he missed her, how much it hurt that she wasn't here, and pondered on how hopeless his situation seemed. The more and more she didn't appear or message him, the more other thoughts began to seep in... _is she dead?_

_**...she will ascend as you will. Join her in ascension, and know absolute perfection. It is the only alternative...** _

No, that was only helping the voice. And despite the other half of him wanting to admit to just how logical the machine sounded, how tempting its words were, he rejected them, instead filling his mind with the happy moments he and Tali spent together before being forced to separate. Their wedding. Their sleepless nights. Their encounter before the Omega 4 Relay jump. Their talks in engineering. Learning how she loved him, and telling her how much she meant to him. Seeing her face for the first time, and finally, seeing her in that alleyway, unaware of the future they would have, of the perils that lay ahead, and how much it would change them forever.

God, he missed her. It was painful. Excruciating. It filled him with loneliness, and despite surrounding himself with friends, it would not be denied. Eventually, the loneliness would consume him, and he didn't know if he could hold off the voices when that happened...

Afterall, noone should have to fight this war alone. Not after all he's been through.

When he finally exited the decontamination chamber, he stepped out into the even busier main hospital, stepping out of the way just as the door behind him opened again, two turian doctors and a salarian rushing a trolley past with what looked to be an injured civilian with a missing arm, the asari being unconscious.

He sighed and made his approach towards Ward 14, which used to be Kaidan's room. Shoving thoughts of Tali aside, new thoughts entered his mind. Thoughts of why he was here to begin with.

Thane Krios, his friend. The man he had met in that tower just under a year ago on his mission to stop the Collectors. That calm, serene drell assassin who was deadly, yet so conflicted about his past. A man who never saw his son, lost his wife because of it, and had been mourning ever since, a slow disease killing him inside. And now Thane had achieved the apex of his existence; to use his abilities to save someone, who just happened to be Valern. There was no nobler sacrifice. They had rushed Thane to the hospital as fast as possible after Leng's finishing move, but Thane was diseased as it was, and having a blade shoved through his chest had not helped. His chances of survival were low.

He approached the door, managing to squeeze through the crowd to reach the door, turning up to tap the interface.

His hand stopped, hovering the interface. He looked off to the left, completely frozen, eyes full of pity. Then his hand dropped.

"Ca-captain," Lia spoke, the quarian leaning against the bulkhead and sniffling, arms crossed under her breasts as she regarded him, "I'm-I'm ass-uming you're h-h-here for-for Thane."

"He was a good friend, Lia," he replied, sighing heavily as he kept his eyes from watering.  _Don't cry, damn it. You don't get to cry. Keep those emotions for the privacy of a room. Don't let people see that your weak._ Despite his heart, he held those tears back, refusing to show that kind of emotion, "I-I want to know that he'll be alright," he gulped, turning to her fully, hands hanging limp at his sides, "Your his nurse. He-he will s-survive, r-r-right?"

He watched the quarian hesitate, her hands wringing in a non-stop dance that normally would have endearingly reminded him of Tali. Instead, his heart dropped, his throat seemed to seize up and his eyes could only bore through her into the wall, everything fading out.

"I-we-we-we  _did_ what we could...for him..." she sniffed again, sighing as she peaked into the room, able to see from her angle through the glass, "But...he suffered...alot of i-i-internal damage. He's-lost alot of blood. I-it doesn't help that he's got Kepral's Syndrome; his body was deprived of-of oxygen as it w-w-w-w-was. He...Kolyat offered to be a blood donar, but...but..." she sniffed, and this time a light sob escaped her lips but she held a second back, trying to remain strong, "...he wasn't...he wasn't the right blood type. And he's the only other drell in the vicinity that we know of. We-there's nothing we can do..."

PTSD was a terrible thing, Marcus would admit. It changed people; turned them from cheery soldiers who were eager to serve into mindless husks, wrecks of a people who were forever scarred as they looked death in the eyes, but did not spit on him; but were cursed with the horror of his gaze. Shellshock was a close contender, and psychological torture was merely an extension upon it; an aggrevator, not a symptom. But there was only one thing that beat PTSD, a thing that most never recovered from.

Friendship on the battlefield was the toughest friendship in existence; that was a damn fact. When you befriended each other in the military, you swore to watch he each others back, to give them covering fire when they needed, to give their life to save you from a stray bullet or unseen frag grenade...forged in the fires of battle, friendship was eternal. And Marcus had known many friends. Only two had been more than that; and losing the first one had been the worst kind of loss imaginable.

He had lost Sarann and Nathan on Torfan. He had lost Roshia on Elysium. He had lost Martinez, Phillips, Brockfield, Tamsen, Tony, Deborah, Peter, Joshua, Daniel, Michael, John, Alexander, Steven and so many others he could remember on Akuze. He had lost Jenkins on Eden Prime. Watched as Fai Dan committed suicide on Feros to prevent the Thorian making him attack Marcus. Watched as Liara, weeping tears, put a bullet in her own mother's head on Noveria. Watched helplessly as he was forced to give the order for Ashley Williams to give her life on Virmire. He had been forced to watch Leng murder Jacob Taylor right before his eyes. He had watched as Mordin said goodbye and ascended the Shroud to give his life for the krogan, and now, he was going to have to walk into that room, and say goodbye to yet another friend. He hated goodbyes. They were finality. They marked the end of a journey.

He  _adhorred_ goodbyes.

Despite his inability to come up with words, despite the fact that he had just been told that Thane was going to die and there was nothing they could do to save him, he reached a hand out and grasped Lia's shoulder, "You should be inside. Kolyat's likely a wreck. He needs you."

She shook her head, "No, Thane is his father; a man he's about to watch die. I don't want his focus to be on me; I want his father's last moments to be with his son. I-I can at least give him that."

He smiled warmly despite the death and he brought Lia in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her, "You're a remarkable woman, Lia. Never change."

The quarian seemed startled for a moment but quickly reciprocated, but her hug was much more awkward.

And it reminded him too much of Tali. Those slim arms wrapped around his form...

He pulled away, making sure to distance himself before nodding with a huge sigh, "Thank you, Lia, for all that you've done."

"I didn't do enough," she lamented, glaring at the ground, "I couldn't save him."

"No, but you did your best," he replied, tapping the interface for the door, "Sometimes, that's more than enough."

He turned from the quarian nurse, stepping through the door and into the ward room, hearing it close behind him with a whoosh and click of mechanical hinges. His eyes were not drawn to the sterile quality of the room however; it was drawn to the two occupants.

Where Kaidan had been lying not too long ago, Thane now lay, his coat stripped from his body and wearing a patient's gown, laced the same white color as the sheet that covered him up to his chest, his right hand holding it there while his left hung at his side, chest moving up and down in steady breaths. He looked at Kolyat, who stood at his bedside with a leatherbound book hooked under one arm, talking with his father. Upon hearing the door open though, they both turned to see who entered, and Thane smiled, albeit weakly.

"Shep-ard..." the man's voice was sickly, and Marcus was horrified. The voice wasn't the usual croaky inflection that came with the drell's voice, but was wet and raspy, likely from dry flem and blood getting trapped in his oesophagus. The man was in his final moments, and it wouldn't be long before he passed away. Despite all this, Thane continued to remain awake, fighting death for as long as possible as he held his hand out, gasping, "It is...good...to...s-see...you..."

Seeing his friend like this made him depressed and he moved forward, taking the man's hand and planting it on his chest, "Its good to see you, Thane. Valern's calling you a hero."

"Is he? That is...g-ood," the drell replied, keeping his smile on his face despite his obvious pain, bringing up a hand to cough into it in harsh, ragged retorts. When he was finished, he seemed to fumble for breath, as if getting oxygen into his lungs was impossible before he steadied himself, breathing in deeply, "Although I doubt it m-m-matters. I-I am n-n-not long...for this w-orl-d, I'm afraid."

He nodded grimly, smile evaporating almost instantly, "I don't have the words, Thane. All you've done...I can't thank you enough. There is nothing I can say that could make up for all you've done for me and the Normandy."

"Y-y-you don't n-need to s-ssss-say anything," he groaned, sitting up slightly in his bed, ignoring Kolyat's protest, "But I-I do. I m-m-must thank you, for all that you have...let me do. I...I was trapped in my battle sleep w-when you found me on...Illium. Ever since...I...joined your crew...I've...I feel...I've...made...a...difference..."

He nodded, clasping the man's shoulder, "You have Thane. You've made a huge difference. Like I said, I can't thank you enough. I just wish...wish I could have fought beside you again...you don't deserve this..."

"It is, what it is," he rasped, smiling alittle as he leaned back, finally giving into Kolyat's urging, "My...time has...finally c-c-come...I can...be with Irikah...now..." Suddenly, out of nowhere, he had a long coughing fit, induced by his sudden need to laugh, "Ha...that assas-sin sho-should b-be em-embarassed. A...t-t-terminally ill...drell managed to...stop him...from reaching his..tar-g-g-get."

He grinned, chuckling lightly, sensing the drell had said it more for his sake than anything else. Then, it disappeared, replaced by a solid calm, cold fierceness entering his eyes as it always did when he spoke of the bastard, "Leng will pay, Thane. For all that he's done. For you...for you I shall end him. For you and everyone else's lives he has taken."

Thane nodded before reaching up once more and grasping Marcus' arm, pulling him down as he forced his eyes to meet his, "Shepar-d...Mar-c-cus...ther-there is some-something I must..." he was cut off by yet another of his coughing episodes, red blood trickling down his lips and across his blanket. Kolyat, clearly distressed, tried to remedy the situation but cut him off, holding a hand for him to stay. He gently, and tenderly, wiped the blood from his lips, sinking his head back into the pillow as he gazed up at the ceiling, seemingly content, "Kalahira, mistress of...inscrut-able...depths," he began, gulping down hard so as to avoid a third bout of violent coughing, "I...ask for...forgivenes-s...Kalahira, who's waves wear down stone...and s-s-sand..." He was unable to continue, covering his mouth as more blood appeared from his mouth, this time erupting into his balled fist as he coughed for five seconds violently, falling back to the pillow in what he imagined was unbelievable agony.

Then, Kolyat spoke, taking up his father's chant as he pressed his two hands together, eying Thane with a look of pure melancholy, but remained strong for his father, "Kalahira, wash the sins from this one, and set him to the distant shore of the ever vigilant spirit."

Thane, recovering from his fit, did not move his head, but he did smile, "Kolyat...you speak...a-as the p-p-priests...do..." he stated, smiling warmly the entire time, pride in his son washing over him, "You'-ve...been...spendi-ng t-t-t-time...with them."

Kolyat nodded, glancing at the book under his arm with some pride. Marcus was able to see the title inscribed on the leather cover, his translator showing the words to be 'Prayers of Rakhana and the Children of the Desert Wastes.' A drell prayer book.

Kolyat, turning from the book, turned back to Thane, smiling with a nod, "I...Lia helped me find my spiritualism. Told me that she never gave up on her ancestors, and I should not give up on the gods. She made me realize just how important it is as a drell."

Thane was silent for a moment before twisting his head to face his son, smiling slightly, "Do...d-" he coughed, "Do you...love...her, Kolyat? Is she...is she your-" he coughed again, " _siha_?"

Kolyat seemed surprised by the question but when he responded, it was without hesitation, "Yes father, she is. She is my  _siha,_ as I am her  _yol'tiya._ We are committed to each other, and while I have not told her, I plan to take her as my  _sihaa._ "

Thane seemed satisfied, "Taking her to  _sihaa_ is a large...c-c-commitment...are you...r-r-ready...for it?"

Marcus' ears didn't really notice the difference in pronunciation of the words  _siha_ and  _sihaa._ But his translator had. Thane had explained to him previously that the word  _siha_ in the drell language was a term of endearment; akin to 'my love' or 'sweetheart' in the english.  _Sihaa,_ as the translator put it, was effectively the drell translation of spouse. Kolyat was planning to take Lia as his wife.  _Damn..._

"I am  _tu'fira,_ father," Kolyat replied pleasantly.  _Tu'fira_ meant 'lost in another', "When I see her, I feel calm serenity. She...my  _siha_ completes me. I do not believe my body is ready, but my heart is. I want to marry her, father. With your blessing. It will not be until this war is over, but when it is, I will spend my life with her."

The only response he got was a croak and a rasp. When Thane turned, he did not look at Marcus, simply staring at the door, "Tell Lia...to please...come inside...I wish...to speak...with her..."

Marcus nodded, but stopped when he saw Kolyat already moving for the door, upon it before he could even complete a full turn. The door swung open, and the drell called to his quarian girlfriend, requesting her presence.

Lia's head popped around the corner, seeming hesitant and nervous. Eventually however, upon seeing Thane, a hand landed on her vocalizer, her other moving to grasp Kolyat's free hand tightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand in reassurance. The more Marcus watched them, he couldn't believe how far the both of them had come. Lia had started out with a crush on Garrus and as a shy pilgrim. Granted, she was still the latter, but she had obviously moved past that to fallen in love with the last person he expected her too. He was happy for her.

The drell turned to her, a warm smile upon his face, "Lia'Vael...y-y-you...ar-r-r-re my son's... _siha_...yes?"

Lia nodded, moving forward steadily letting go of Kolyat's hand, "I am, Mr. Krios. I...I l-love him...v-v-v-very much."

"Pleas-e-e...its T-hane...to you..." he reached out his hand, beckoning for the young quarian to take it. She did so, both her hands grasping onto his and encompassing five, scaly fingers in all six of hers, glowing eyes looking into this, "And-and I-I must..." he coughed, more blood trickling from his lips, but he ignored it this time, "I...g-g-give you...my...my...blessing..."

"Blessing?" Lia frowned, looking between Kolyat and his father, "Blessing for what?"

The ex-assassin gave a low chuckle, "Ah...Kol-y-y-yat did not...t-tell you...he wi-ishes...to...to... _marry_ you...I g-g-give my b-b-b-bless-" another round of coughs cut him off, forcing Kolyat to sum up what he said as the quarian turned to him in shock.

"He gives you his blessing to marry me," he stated, looking incredibly nervous, "He approves, Lia."

"Bu-but you...you never..." she stuttured, and Marcus could imagine her blue-tinged cheeks; a sign of quarian embarassment, "I-keelah...K-Kolyat, why didn't you tell me!"

"I was going to," he replied solemnly, looking at the ground forlornly, "But I wanted to wait until the war was over. So that when we got married...it would be a happy occassion, not one in the middle of conflict."

The quarian, to her credit, did not squeal or giggle in delight. Instead, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around his, pressing her mask into the crook of his neck, "My answer, when the time comes, is yes. I will marry you, Kolyat, my  _yol'tiya._ "

Kolyat smiled, hugging her back. Marcus could only watch Thane's face, searching for some reaction. All the drell could do was continue to smile warmly, glad that he could allow his son some happiness before he passed away.

Suddenly, there was silence, Lia pulling away from Kolyat to stand at his side, their hands grasping the other more tightly than before. They did not look at each other, gazing grimly at Thane, who continued to cough and sputter on his bed, eyes becoming half-lidded. It wouldn't be long.

"Shepard," Kolyat spoke, gaining Marcus' attention as he turned to the drell, who was now waving him over, leather book in his hands, "Will you pray with me?"

 _A prayer for Thane?_ He looked at Thane, licking his lips, before nodding, turning back to Kolyat with creased lips, "Of course," he crossed the distance between the two of them, coming to stand at Kolyat's side, hands clasped before him in mourning position. Lia stood on Kolyat's left, preparing to help read.

The drell man opened the book with unique gentleness, peeling apart the covers from the pages and slowly guiding them with tender flicks of the paper to the intended page. When reached it, he held the large book carefully, eyes flickering over the drell-written words, most of which Marcus' translator was able to put into english for him to read.

Kolyat began to speak the words, voice somber and reciteful, solemn yet beautiful, "Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention-"

Marcus took up the prayer, reading it carefully and reciting just as carefully, "Guide this one to where the traveller never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve," he glanced at Thane at that, nodding grimly before turning back to the page, hands going limp at his side, "Guide this one, Kalahira. And he will be a companion to you, as he was to me."

He could hear Lia sobbing slightly, and Kolyat closed the book, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close, letting her bury her head in his chest. Marcus sighed, frowning slightly.  _But his last moments were that of a hero...why pray for salvation?_ He turned to Thane, moving up to his side, drawing the drell's attention. He could see his eyelids getting heavy, dropping slightly as they got ever closer to embracing the darkness, "Thane, why would you pray for salvation when you gave your life to save Valern? You've already achieved salvation, and peace."

Thane nodded slightly, patting his arm, "I...have alrea-d-dy pray-ed for...for forgiv-eness...for m-m-my s-sins," he met Marcus' eyes in that moment, never leaving, "M-m-m-my prayer was-was-was for...for  _you_..." And in those last moments, Thane's eyes finally closed shut, a final breath leaving his mouth as he fell limp. His hand fell to his chest in a heap. Marcus didn't need to hear the heart monitors continue their mindless drone to know that Thane was no longer of this world.

Thane Krios was gone.

Lia's sobs only intensified, and when he turned, he noticed tears streaking down Kolyat's cheeks, splashing onto his jacket. But he did not cry. And neither did Marcus.

That was left for his dreams at night.

_...where the lover never leaves..._

_I will find you Tali. I promise._

**{Loading...}**

_June 23, 2186_

_1400 hours._

_Council Chambers, Citadel Tower, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, EDI, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, C-Sec Investigator Kolyat Krios, Nurse Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, Chief Medical Officer Karin Chakwas, Councilor Valern, Councilor Sparatus, Councilor Tevos, Councilor Dominic Osoba, Fleet Admiral of the Navy Steven Hackett, Rear Admiral Hannah Rila Shepard, Captain Phillipo Coniglione, Yeoman Kelly Chambers._

Kolyat had wanted to send his father to Kahje to be buried; to have his ashes spread among the waters of the world he was born on, and where his ashes could join that of his deceased wife's, Irikah. Marcus had agreed that, for a drell, that was the best sort of burial. But first came the burial, and Marcus wanted to be there for it.

He had informed his squad of this, but apparently the Council was already ahead on that. Only two minutes after he had told his team had Valern contacted him, telling him they had arranged a funeral for Thane Krios in the Council Chambers, where he would be honoured and then placed in a coffin ready for transport to Kahje. The whole Council would be attending, including the new human councilor, Dominic Osoba, who won the election by a large vote.

Marcus stood at the front, his back to Thane's coffin, which was currently open, the man dressed in a fine, black suit, hands clasped over his chest and eyes closed, body adorned with Ta'fila'pet fish; native to Kahje and a tradition among hanar. Four hanar stood beside the coffin, representing the people who had saved the drell from extinction. Marcus' hands were clasped behind his back, wearing the black suit of mourning.

Kolyat stood on his right, hands also clasped in a similiar black suit. Before them stood a reasonably small crowd. Garrus stood at the front with Kasumi, the turian having taken off his armor for this one occasion, showing his respect for the drell. Kasumi kept her hood, but had taken it off as etiquette required of her, her hair down along her shoulders.

Kaidan stood next to her, also wearing black attire, his hair combed and lips creased in a solemn line, paying respects to the man who had watched over and protected him for the whole month. On his immediate left stood Councilor Valern, standing apart from the rest of the Council due to the special circumstances; it had been Thane who had saved  _him,_ afterall.

The rest of the Council stood at the back with Hackett, who had chosen to attend simply out of respect for one of Marcus' comrades. Marcus' mother stood beside him, face grim. She met his eyes for a split second, but he tore his own away, not wanting to look into them because he knew what he'd find; pity. Sorrow. And he had enough of that as it was.

Infront of Hackett and Hannah but behind the front line stood Joker and Liara, the asari standing with her hands clasped infront of her, and Joker stood leaning to one side, one of the few, rare moments that you'd ever find the pilot standing. Opposite them stood the rest of the Council; Osoba was Czech in his origin, his name literally meaning 'person' in his language, as well as Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, Croatian, Bulgarian, Serbian and Slovak. The man was fairly strong in his own right; he had medium stubble around his jawline, with moderate amounts of muscle; a testament to his days in the EUMC before becoming ambassador for the human embassy. He had well-kept black hair, piercing blue eyes and rough, tanned skin, and apparently his son had been a corporal in the Alliance Army assigned to the garrison on the Benning colony. The man had been hit hard when the Reapers had invaded Benning and his son had either died or been huskified. He liked Osoba, as the man understood what it was like to be at war, yet he had a passion for politics just like Udina, just with the balls to go with it.

Kelly, Lia, Chakwas and Phillipo stood beside the Council, the former being in absolute tears, Lia giving her an arm to cry on, Chakwas could only look on sadly, watching Thane's coffin while obviously lost in her own, melancholic thoughts. Phillipo simply attended because his admiral did, not because he knew or felt anything for Thane, although he did seem abit out of place among all the emotion in the room.

Order in the room was brought quickly. When it had, and all noise in the room had died down, Marcus made for the front pedestal as Kolyat motioned, having been chosen as the lead speech giver given his position as Thane's ex-commander and also highly-valued friend. He had also been the most influential in the drell's life.

He gulped, gripping the pedestal in an iron grip as his eyes scanned the entire crowd, taking them all in before he began.  _So many...Thane will be remembered, I will make sure of that. The Council shall never forget what he did for them, how he gave his life for them...never forget..._ He didn't want to think about how he'd have to add the assassin's nameplate to the memorial wall back on the ship. He didn't want to think of what life would be like for Kolyat with both his parents gone. Only that they all stood before his friend's coffin, ready to say goodbye.

And he hated goodbyes.

He took a deep breath before he began, deciding to speak from his heart, not from a script. His voice boomed throughout the council chambers, echoing throughout its halls, "We are brought here today to honor the life of Thane Krios. Assassin, friend, and hero," he looked back down at the ground, trying to think of what to say next. It was a gruelling process, to think of words to put to the man's deeds. An almost impossible task. But Marcus wasn't known for being a professional diplomat for nothing.

He looked back up, meeting everyone's eyes as his moved over them, "Thane...he touched each of our lives in different ways," he smiled slightly at that, remembering all the conversations they had back on the Normandy in life support. Memories, nostalgia...even relationship advice...

He motioned a hand to Valern, "Councilor Valern, knew him as a hero. For preserving his life, even though he didn't have to." The salarian gave a crisp nod, acknowledging Marcus' statement, lips set in a thin line.

"My crew..." he trailed off, gulping as he continued, taking an even deeper breath, "...my crew knew him as a brother in arms. And others..." he twisted to face Kolyat, jawline clenching slightly before it loosened, "...as a father. Devoted to his son, even if his son didn't know that."

He didn't wait to see Kolyat's reaction to that statement, simply turning as he continued to address the crowd, "Although his life took him to very dark places, Thane cared for the better angels of our nature," he felt his grip become painfully tight around the pedestal and relieved it, confused at why he was so tense.  _I hate goodbyes. I always have_ , "Even when he was terminally-ill, he ran through war torn streets to reach me...because he knew I needed help. That my squad needed help," he almost lost control right there, sniffing slightly to satisfy his urge to weep openly.

He noticed a movement in his squad, showing that they understood just what he had meant, and that they felt the same that he did. He even watched a tear move down Kasumi's cheek, although her face remained blank and she did not sob. Maybe she was just growing numb to it all. He didn't know if that was good, or bad. Kelly just kept crying, although her weeping was alot quieter, remaining respectful of the speech.

He felt a rage burn in him as he remembered just who murdered Thane, and he looked up, hands gripping the pedestal again, "You all know the results of that day..." he breathed more heavily this time, as if it was a precious commodity, "...Thane was killed by Kai Leng, an agent of Cerberus, an assassin. He was fallen by the same blade meant for Councilor Valern."

Anger brissled in Garrus, from what Marcus could see, and he saw Joker sneer. The pilot had been pissed off by the damage done to the Normandy when they had finally towed her into dock to be repaired, which would take a week at most, but the disgust that crossed his face in that moment made that look like nothing. Even Kasumi seemed to tense, a fire burning in her eyes. Liara glowed briefly, remembering the encounter.

"An assassin," Marcus spoke again, raising everyone's attention once more, "A professional criminal, gave his life for the galaxy, for his friends, for his people, and for one person. There is no greater sacrifice. However," he raised a hand, signalling he had something else to say, "I say, that we should not mourn. We should not weep. We should not be angry. We must be happy. For reality is a terrible thing, and Thane Krios is in a better place now. He can finally rest in peace." At that, he threw a glance at the quiet body of the assassin, smiling warmly at it.

_"...where the lover never leaves..."_

_Irikah's waiting for you, Thane. I hope you found her._

He sighed, blinking to clear his watery eyes before he looked back up, "Would...would anyone like to speak?"

There was silence for a few moments. Noone said anything; not a single hand was raised. Noone stepped forward, not a voice spoke up. He was left wondering whether these people had nothing to say in Thane's name, or if they-

Suddenly, there was a loud chuckle. All eyes landed on Garrus in that instant, glaring at him. How could he be laughing at a time like this. After a bit however, the turian stopped chuckling, managing to speak, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Ha, I remember this...this one time where I was training in the shuttle bay, just before we took on the Collectors. The crew had been taken, and we were rushing to assault the base when he approached me and asked me what I was doing. I said 'I'm imagining that I'm killing off collectors.' Then he said, 'A collector fights back. The bulkhead does not.' I asked him what he knew of it, and he simply replied 'I've been chasing bulkheads all my life. Only recently have I begun fighting collectors.' I didn't know what he meant back then, but now I do," he grunted, meeting Kolyat's eyes, "Innocents don't fight back. It was only when he met your mother that he started targetting the bad people. The scum. Your father realized what he had done, and went to rectify it. Very few people can do that, Kolyat. You should be proud of your father, and remember him as the good man that he was."

Kolyat nodded, smiling slightly, "Thank you, Mr. Vakarian. You're...you're very kind."

Kasumi took up the space Garrus left, smiling alittle herself as she perked up, regaining some of her cheerfulness, "There was this one time I tried to sneak up on him; the usual, really. I make a grand entrance, scare the bejezus out of them, and then make like the wind and pretend I didn't do it. But like Shep, he seemed to have this 'cloaking sense'," that roused a light chuckle from Marcus, and he even heard a few laughs in the background, "One time, I sneaked up on him, and then just before I decloaked he said 'You have tried this many times before, but unlike others, I know what to expect.' And when I asked him how he knew I was there, he said 'he could smell my pheromones!' Well, that was the last time I tried to sneak up on him!"

"Or during his first time on the Normandy, when he practically glared at me when I made a oral joke," Joker piped up, gaining a few odd looks. He shrugged, quick to justify himself, "Well, apparently drell can't have you...you know...with humans because the oral contact causes hallucinations in levos! All I did was make a joke about having to warn Shepard about it, and the next thing I know, I feel like another assassination target."

One by one, the stories fell upon the room, people trading tales of their own dealings with Thane during their time on the Normandy or not. Eventually, they got to Kolyat, who seemed to have an awful lot to say.

"When I was reunited with my father after my first assassination attempt, I only felt anger, loneliness and distress," the drell admitted, holding his book close to his chest, "I felt contempt, mostly. Contempt for my father, who I felt had abandoned me. I blamed him for my mother's death. I hated him for never being there for me, or playing with me or doing all the things, I felt, a father should have done. But when he explained just what he had done...how he had avenged Irikah's murderers...I realized I was wrong. My father wasn't a monster. He wasn't a terrible father. He wasn't the man I made him out to be. He loved me, but he just never got the time to really show me that. And in that moment, I realized I loved him too," he turned to Marcus, smiling, "Me and my father spent alot of time together after he left the Normandy. We even travelled to Kahje, to see my mum's resting place. We even travelled to Earth. We were going to visit Shepard, but the Alliance wouldn't let us; and it was about that time my father almost had a seizure, and that's how he ended up at the hospital."

"When it comes down to it, I remember my father for doing what he believed was right, not because he wasn't there for me," he concluded, "In the end, I loved him, and he loved me, and that's all that matters. And as the captain said, he died a hero. I couldn't be more proud to have had such a dad. I'm going to miss him, I'm sure alot of us will, but he is with the infinite spirit now. Kalahira will tend to his needs, and he shall never be alone now; for he is with mum."

"Amen," he whispered under his breath, not wanting anyone to hear it. Everyone else responded in their own way; Liara prayed for the goddess to look after him, and Garrus hoped the spirits guided him. They all offered their own prayers and then eventually, the moment came. The closing of the ceremony. None of them could attend it, much to Marcus' chagrin; they would not watch his ashes scattered amongst Kahje's vast oceans. He was couped up here on the Citadel, with a war to win.  _Can't even attend my own friend's burial._

So instead, they would all move up to the coffin and say their personal goodbyes; a final farewell to the devoted father, hero and companion. They all lined up, Marcus taking the back, wanting to be the only one left in the chamber when it was all over. Kolyat was at the front, Lia's arm wrapped under his in a sign of comfort. Kolyat began speaking just as Hannah appeared at his side, examining his face.

"You going to be okay, Mark?" she asked, looking more than just concerned, "You look terrible."

"My friend just died, mum," he deadpanned, meeting her eyes, "I'm the very definition of terrible. The last few days have been a nightmare."

She nodded, grasping at his shoulder, "I won't be able to stay for long; I've got to head out soon; back to the Crucible project. But if you need me...I can stay for awhile."

He shook his head, reaching up to kiss her on the cheek, "Its okay mum, I'll be fine. It'll...I've got a week to recover as the Normandy took a real beating, and I've got a few things that need wrapping up before we leave. I'll be okay; besides, you have your duties, I have mine. We can't have any softies."

"I know, I know, but..." she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, "I worry about you. I heard about what happened to Lieutenant Taylor, and Professor Solus. I know you're hurting; you can't just pretend it isn't happening," suddenly, her eyes glazed over him, "And then there's your wife..."

"I don't want to talk about Tali, mum," he stated firmly, voice hinting at slight irritation.  _Anything but her,_ "I've accepted the likelihood that I could be fighting this war without her; I'm fine with that. What needs to be done will be done. I just...I need some space. To get my head over it."

"Mark..."

"Mum, stop," he growled, glaring at her, "I don't need to be coddled like a child. I'll handle this in my own way. I just need you to get off my back."

She seemed startled by his slight outburst but nodded despite that, turning away from him with a nod, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just concerned."

His features warmed, and he gave her a quick hug, despite their attire, "Its alright, mum. We're going to win this, and then, and only then, will I mourn properly. But winning this war must be a priority."

She nodded, pulling away from him, but not after kissing his forehead, "I love you, Mark."

"I love you too, mum," he replied, smiling slightly before giving her another peck on the cheek before she broke off and walked away, beckoned over by Hackett. He turned back to the line, and it steadily began to lessen in size until he stood before it, all alone, looking down upon it. He braced against the timber, holding onto the edge with an iron grip, sighing as he bit back his emotions. He could feel his squad waiting for him; Garrus', Kasumi's and Liara's eyes all on his back, evaluating him.

He simply stood there, lost for words as time faded away, replaced by a feeling of emptiness as he just scanned over Thane's cold cadaver, before landing on his face. Those calm, cool eyes. So peaceful and tranquil, a testament to his new life in the eternity of the afterlife. He didn't know if it truly existed anymore but he believed that it if it did, Thane would be there, smiling down upon him with Irikah at his side. And Mordin and Jacob and Ashley would be up there with them.

He hated goodbyes, he truly did. They were a finality; a conclusion. The end to a long journey, to companionship. They symbolized death in all its entirety, and they ache they provided in one's heart was truly crippling. But when it came down to it, Marcus realized, goodbyes were a necessity. All things ended, as was the cycle of life, and nothing was perputual. Just as the Reapers' cycle of destruction would end in this war, Thane's life had ended; it wasn't you dying that mattered, it was how you died that defined you. He remembered a famous saying in that moment, helping complete his epiphany.

_Its never about the destination. The journey is what truly counts._

Yes, he would remember Thane for all their deeds and time together. The battles they fought, the lessons learnt, the blood spilled. Their comraderie was forged in fire, and he had come to know Thane as one of his closest friends. So he chose not to ponder on Thane's death, but rather to celebrate his life, and what he had been before his spirit finally left the word.

He hated goodbyes, but they all always came around eventually.

He pivoted so he faced Thane side on, taking the phalanx strapped to his hip and placing it firmly between the drell's fingers. He had found Thane's weapon and emptied the clip, leaving it empty; the safety was turned on, rendering it useless. Yet it had always been the drell's weapon of choice, and he believed he would have wanted to be buried with it.

Oh, how he hated goodbyes. But right there and then? It was alot easier.

It always got easier.

"Goodbye Thane," he chuckled grimly, "I'll see you at the bar; save a seat for me. I'm paying, on the house."

And with that, he turned around, walking towards his squad as they prepared to march into the future, and tackle whatever stood in their way.

Because that's how Thane would have done it.

**"I've always hated that I wasn't able to attend the funeral. It pained me that so many of my friends were dying while I was stuck fighting a stupid, hopeless war."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"I still remember Thane fondly, and although I didn't get him in the afterlife, I'm sure I'll be able to soon. But hey, Thane still lives on; we did name our firstborn after him..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Well, Wrex had taken Mordin and Brynn had named her child in honor of Jacob, so..."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"So what occurred next?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"A reunion; forged in the fires of battle. Not quite the romantic greeting I had hoped, but there you have it."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Goddamn it Marcus, stop hinting at stuff that's not going to happen for another two chapters! Damn you!** _

_**Next chapter is almost entirely different perspectives. I've got one at the start planned for Kaidan, one for Anderson, one for Coats (and the first) and quite a significant segment for Tali. Also, to alleviate any confusion, the events of the Second Morning War occur in July, not June, with the official battle taking place a week after the Citadel Siege just to make sure the plot is inline and consistent. Wouldn't make sense for the Migrant Fleet to send a help, and Shepard appear...like...a week later. Pretty sure the Fleet would be gone by then.** _

_**Also, contrary to popular belief, I'm not dragging the reunion between our two lovebirds out. There's just some kinks I need to work out, some plot threads to resolve and a few characters to milk story out of before we get there. Its only two chapters guys; I'm sure you'll live.** _

_**Also, as a side note, the Quarian/Geth arc won't be quite as long as I'd hoped. If I follow my storyboard, it'll be a maximum of 5-6 chapters at most, with two of those being a two parter Rannoch, which could turn into three parts, given how I've written lately (Coup D'etat and Name of a Hero were meant to be two parters, but ended up being three parters due to their enormous length). That includes the Admiralty Board meeting, the Geth Dreadnought mission, both Rannoch side quests (Rescue Koris and the geth consensus), Rannoch itself and then the aftermath.** _

_**The Geth Consensus mission will be very interesting and will contribute more to the story than you think. It draws alot of similiarities to a certain story that I'm not going to mention, because you might go over and read said section and spoil it for yourself (actually, the similiarity is so boulbous that it might as well be plagiarism), however, I will be doing my aftermath of said ordeal quite differently. And given that Marcus has a son, things are going to get quite interesting.** _

_**Oh fuck, I've done it again. I've taken up most of the thing with author's notes.** _

_**Better leave before I continue.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	36. A Reunion of One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard welcomes Kaidan back onto the Normandy. Major Coats uncovers major Reaper operations being conducted in London. Anderson arrives in Jerusalem, currently undergoing a Reaper siege. The Migrant Fleet is left trapped when an upgraded geth finally begin to turn the tide against them.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:**

**A REUNION OF ONE**

_June 24, 2186_

_1225 hours._

_Promenade, Docking Bay D24, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

They both watched a fighter fly past, leaving a fine trail of mist from where its mass effect core had ejected spent waste from its drive core. In an instant, Marcus pointed at it, grinning as he recited the vessel's name, verbatim, "That one's an SX3-class fighter, Systems Alliance."

He heard Cortez sigh beside him, tensing up as he once again missed one. Still, he was quick to make up for his mistake, leaning further against the railing as he chuckled, "That was nothing. Fighters are easy."

He snorted, gripping the railing just a bit tighter as he drowned out the noise behind him of welders burning and people talking and shouting, as well as the constant beeping of decon fields, activating terminals or Avina being summoned, "That's an excuse, Cortez."

"And I'm sticking with it, if you don't mind, Shepard," the pilot remarked, turning back to the observation window as he continued to examine the many different ships floating outside. Then, he pointed out, "ARW Destiny Ascension, Ascension-Class Dreadnought, Asari Republics."

"Doesn't count," he immediately, dismissed looking up to see the Destiny Ascension sitting infront of the Citadel Tower like a protective mother over its children, "Everyone knows the Ascension; its only the most famous warship in the asari military, not to mention all of Council space."

"Now who's making excuses?" Cortez retorted, shaking his head as he leaned on one arm against the railing, turning away from the beauty and immensity of the vessel he had been gazing at, "You're seeming very hypocritical."

"The name of those fighters isn't as well known as the Ascension, especially after the Battle of the Citadel," he turned back to the ship, nodding with creased lips, "Still, she's a beautiful ship."

"And the biggest the Citadel fleet has," Cortez mused, "30,000 crew and a main gun bigger and stronger than anything our fleet has. How many of this class do they have again?"

He thought for a moment on that, watching the vessel as he did. When he rounded the numbers in his head, he turned back to the pilot, who had a raised eyebrow, "Well, as the Treaty of Farixen dictates, the asari are only allowed to build three dreadnoughts to every five the turians have, which at the moment would mean they only have about...twenty-seven. They only have one class of dreadnought, the Ascension-Class, so they have twenty-seven Ascension-class dreadnoughts, with the Destiny Ascension being the head of her class, hence the name."

"Wait, you're telling me the turians have fifty dreadnoughts?" Cortez whistled, "Damn! They don't call them the military masters of the galaxy for nothing, do they?"

He nodded grimly, "Considering what's happening with Palaven, they probably have alot less now, and most of them are part of separate task forces rather than complete fleets," he replied, "Still, its a substantial amount, I'll give you that. I could name a few Ascension-class dreadnoughts I've heard about; ARW Truthbearer, Peace and Tranquility, Census, People's Voice and a few others."

He heard Cortez sigh next to him, before pointing out again, "THS Swift Judicator, Tribune-Class Dreadnought, Turian Hierarchy."

Marcus chuckled slightly, ignoring Cortez's smug grin before his eyes landed on his own kill, hand reaching out with one finger extended as he pointed, "SUV Ever Alert and the SUV Silent Step, both of them are Silence-Class heavy frigates, Salarian Union."

"You sure know your ships Shepard," Cortez snarkily pointed out, "I might feel threatened."

"Watch yourself," he warned jokingly, "It won't do for you to mock your commanding officer."

"Like its ever stopped me."

Both of them reached out hands to point and speak, but then they stopped, what they thought was one of the new Alliance Richmond-Class Heavy Cruisers. However, while it did have the same design, all its forward batteries were missing, none of its armor was present, and pretty much every GARDIAN unit along its port side was absent. It wasn't even in the black and blue of the Alliance colors or with its insignia; only the words 'MSV Cornucopia' was written alongside as the ship lazily drifted by.

"I know that class," Cortez mused, leaning closer to seemingly get a better look. When he was done, he snorted, coming back as he met Marcus' eyes, "That's a Geneva-Class Heavy Cruiser."

"Geneva-Class?" he asked, flabbergasted, "I thought they retired them back in 2184 and replaced them with the Richmond-Class." The Richmond-Class was outfitted with the perfected Silaris armor, along with increased firing range, better VI targetting, more maneveurability in combat and packed more punch. The Geneva-Class in comparison was obsolete; the turians had already matched its capacity a full four years before its decommissioning, and its ability to fire missiles at 0.9 percent of light speed had already been bested by the asari, who's Reliant-Class Destroyers could fire theirs at 1.1 percent of light speed, essentially outgunning it. The Richmond-Class was simply superior, and had rapidly been produced to replace all Geneva-Class vessels, and they were all eventually decommissioned at the Mars Planitia Shipyards. A place that was probably non-existent now.

Obviously, one had survived. The Geneva-Class and Richmond-Class differed little in overall design, and pretty much looked the same; the subtle difference was the sleekness of the latter compared to the former, as well as the thicker armor and more intense armament. But this ship lacked any kind of armor altogether, and to see it without weapons was a bigger surprise.

Cortez nodded, confirming his thoughts, "They retired them, yes, but not all of them were necessarily scrapped. Its safe to assume a few corporations or governments would have paid an awful lot of credits for the use of those ships as cargo vessels or retrofitted tankers, or maybe even convert into expeditionary vessels. All the Alliance had to do was strip it back down to its basic shape, shred the armor and weapons, and then sell it for whatever price; probably in the hundreds of millions. Its not exactly unheard of."

He shrugged, conceding the pilot's point, "Do you recognize the ship though?"

"Its the SSV London. Or was," the pilot elaborated, noticing the surprise on his face, "I remember speaking with the captain once; he docks with the Citadel alot. Said the company he works for, Cord-Hislop Aerospace, purchased the London and renamed her the Cornucopia. Said it was the best buy they made in ages."

He nodded in appreciation of the man's knowledge, giving a brief nod to the ex-cruiser, watching its engines coming into view, glowing a bright, intense blue as their engines were looked tirelessly, "You certainly get around, Cortez," his sentence reminded him of just why he was here, turning away from the Cornucopia's passing bulk as he turned his full frame to lean back against the railing, crossing his arms as he turned to face the dark-skinned pilot fully, "Speaking of getting around...I never really asked before, but I only just noticed. You said you were going to get some time on the Citadel...is this it? You know, sometime off the Normandy? Away from Mr. Vega's taunts?"

The man chuckled, crossing his own arms as he stood straight, taking his weight off the metal railing as he continued to watch the ships fly by, the man seemingly finding some solace in them as his eyes looked less distant than they did in the Shuttle Bay, "Yeah, I took your advice. All work and no play. That's not fair, right? Besides, the Normandy isn't going anywhere for a few days, and we're stuck here, so why hang around?"

He nodded, "I get that. But why here?" They hadn't exactly come up here together. He had been returning to the Normandy after speaking with Bailey when he saw Cortez on the observation deck, deciding to join him. It had been then that the pilot challenged him to a game of 'name the ship,' one Marcus eagerly took him up on. Cortez had won of course, as he was a bit of a naval nut, but it had been interesting, all the same. That, and it took his mind off of Thane. He had put his name on the memorial yesterday, and gotten drunk afterwards to forget it all; a habit that was becoming dangerously addictive. It had been just like after Mordin died, and that had hit him just as badly as Thane's.

The pilot sighed, blowing out a heavy breath as braced against the railing again, eyes never leaving the ships outside, "Its peaceful. I find it relaxing to just watch the ships flying by; distracts me from all the horrors we see in our day to day. I remember when I served on the SSV Hawking all those years ago; I used to stand on the observation deck in the hangar and just watch all the fighters and interceptors take off. The glass muffled the sounds of them taking off, so it sounded like they were gliding out of the hangar like kites; it was peaceful, tranquil, relaxing. I love it," he sighed, turning to Marcus with a look of solemnity, seeming slightly uncomfortable, "I...I put Robert's nameplate on the memorial down in the Refugee Camp, but the amount of people there...it was too much. Its apparently worse now after the siege and what Cerberus did down there."

Marcus nodded, his amusement fading slightly, "What they did is unforgivable. Cerberus will pay," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "But let's not talk about that. Its enough that we have to fight them on an almost daily basis; I'd rather not bring them into every conversation. Let's...let's just not talk about the war for now."

He nodded, smoothing a hand right through his hair, "I can live with that," he focused his blue eyes on him, a smile crossing his lips. He turned back to the ships, eyes widening as he spotted a ship, almost shooting back as he shot a hand up at it, "That's the THS Havencore, Servitor-Class Destroyer, part of the turian eleventh fleet."

Marcus grinned, turning to look at the fearsome looking vessel as it floated by with the rest of its escort force tasked to the THS Hardened Conciliator, another Tribune-Class Dreadnought that served as flagship of the eleventh fleet, along with its commanding officer Fleet Admiral Petra Invecticus.

"Must be part of the turian forces Victus has committed to the UGC," Marcus stated, "The Eleventh, along with the Twelfth, Second, Fifth and Seventh fleets have been dedicated, while the rest of his navy is redistributed to asari and salarian space," his smile briefly disappeared as he turned to the confused Cortez, "Victus just made a very tough gamble; he's effectively given up all major offensives in the Apien Crest and has left behind a few token battlegroups to keep the battle going. Like Earth, Palaven is on its own now."

Cortez snorted, "You're right, that is one hell of a gamble."

"Sacrificing for the greater good. Victus is giving away everything, possibly sacrificing the survival of his people, because he has faith in the UGC, and the Crucible," he sighed, turning away from the destroyer, "And he has faith in me. He, along with everyone else, seems to think I'm the one hope this galaxy has. I just hope their faith isn't misplaced; its alot of cards they're committing to the table," he groaned, shaking his head, "We're talking about the war again."

"Right. Sorry," Cortez, despite what they were talking about, couldn't help but chuckle at that, "It all comes down to the war, it seems."

He nodded at that, not saying anything else. They remained silent for a few precious seconds, drinking in the silence. Or what existed of it, considering the dock was almost crowded with onsite workers and the sounds of repairs going on.

"Do you...do you ever wonder if you should have stayed with Robert, back on Ferris Fields?" Marcus asked, seemingly out of the blue, "Do you ever have any regrets?"

To his surprise, Cortez didn't waver on the question, simply looking distant, "All the time. I wonder if it should have been me who got taken by the Collectors. I wonder if I should have gone back; if I might have saved him. In the end, I guess it doesn't matter. He's gone," he sighed heavily, looking incredibly sad in that moment. He felt his chest, as if trying to touch his heart, "He'll always live on down here, but I don't think I'll ever quite recover from losing him."

He remembered how Cortez had hinted at an interest in him, and his hand subconsciously reached up to his forehead, feeling for the mark on his forehead. He smiled at the memory; a symbol of his union with his unionmate, his wife. It also made him remember how much he missed said wife, and decided not to linger on that thought, letting his hand fall back down to his side. He must have loved incredibly weird to the odd passer by, having a random line running down his forehead, but he didn't care. Besides, anyone tried to hit on him, and he knew one thing that was universally known. He rubbed his finger, feeling the ring underneath his gloves. Yes, others would know when they saw it that he was indeed a married man; and a happy one at that.

He placed a hand on the man's shoulders, grasping them tightly, "I can't claim to feel the same, but I'm a good friend when you get to know me, Cortez. I'd like to think we're more than friends at this stage, so I can say this with some certainty; don't let Robert weigh you down. Don't let him anchor you down, because if he does, you'll never move on and you'll always live in the past; and that can be devastating."

"That's easy for you to say," he motioned to his forehead mark, "You've got a girl waiting for you out there. What would you do if she died?"

 _I would continue to fight in her memory. And then, and only then, would I join her._  He wanted to say. Instead, he said, "I would be a lost man, Cortez, but I would never stop fighting. As long as I have a purpose, I can bury those feelings down and fight. But in peacettime? I don't know, Cortez. I guess I'd move on."  _You're not one for moving on, Marcus. Don't even try to tell yourself that you are. I'd join her. Once my purpose is fullfilled, I will gladly meet her up in that bar..._

Eternity didn't seem so bad when you had someone you loved to spend it with.

"Then you're a stronger man than me," Cortez mumbled, "I...I don't think I-" he cut himself off, looking over Marcus' shoulder. Suddenly, he snapped a salute and made to leave, "I'll talk to you later, Shepard."

"What-?" he never got to finish his question as a voice spoke from over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Cortez," Kaidan stated, "I appreciate it."

Cortez was halfway down the corridor by the time he finally turned to face the second human spectre, still wearing the armor he had been wearing when he had been with Udina, the familiar eye piece folded back as he braced against the railing next to Marcus.

He raised an eyebrow at the man, "Good to see you, Kaidan. I was wondering when we'd...talk."

"Yeah," Kaidan began, laughing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, armor shuffling as he did. There was silence for a moment, with neither of them really saying anything. They knew what they wanted to say to each other, just not how to properly word it. Meanwhile, Marcus just turned and leaned against the railing with him, both looking out and glazing their eyes over Shalta Ward's cityscape. Everything had gone back to normal, more or less. But it had only been two years since the attack; and it was all too fresh in their minds for anyone to forget. Still, he imagined that alot of people in the other wards didn't care; they'd been virtually untouched by the Cerberus attack, aside from having to watch the space battle below or around them.

Another turian vessel was floating by, an Imperium-Class Supercarrier, along with its escort of three Venator-Class light cruisers and two Titus-Class heavy cruisers. Apparently, the turian sixth prime task force, which was assigned to the eleventh fleet. All turian fleets had prime task forces, which were assigned separate dreadnought task groups. Most prime task forces surrounded a single supercarrier, one of the largest vessels ever built and the closest to matching the size of a Reaper; essentially, they were only a kilometer smaller than a Sovereign-Class Reaper dreadnought, but despite their size, the Reapers still outmatched them. Still, it would be handy having a supercarrier committed to the UGC armada. Or more than one.

Lost in the hierarchy warships moving for drydock, he only just caught Kaidan's response, "Shepard, I took one hell of a beating on Mars. And now Udina...I'm a Spectre. Just like you, I answer to the Council and I have more power in my hands than I know what to do with. We're the only two spectres of our race, and despite how Udina used me, I don't think I can drop this. Being a spectre will help make a difference, I know it will."

He sighed, nodding as he turned to face the soldier, "Kaidan, I understand if you have to stay...I understand...if you won't be joining us again. I'm not going to force you to-"

"Let me finish," he placed a hand on Marcus' shoulder, smiling as he did, "But despite all that, I'll follow your lead. I've been with you since the very beginning; longer than anyone else on the crew aside from Joker, Chakwas and Adams. Hell, I knew you before Tali did. And I know without a doubt that you're the man who can win this war. Yeah, its going to be long and bloody. And we're nowhere close to the end, but I'm glad to know that I served with you, and will continue to serve with you. Fighting beside you...I know we can't fail," he stood up, straightening his posture as he snapped a firm salute, "Which is why I'm formally requesting to be assigned back to the Normandy detail, sir."

He looked at the man for a long while, returning his salute but not saying anything. Despite all he had achieved; his spectre status, everything, he still wanted to serve under him. He could practically ask for a ship of his own, whether it be the Council he asked or Hackett, and he'd get it. His own crew, supplies, his own command and a mission of his own to complete...instead, he chose to give that up just to serve under him one more time.

Because he, like all others, believed he was the one to win the war. He didn't hate Kaidan for that; he didn't hate anyone for that. But what they didn't seem to realize is that it was a burden he struggled with, and that was partly his fault. He never told anyone, not even Garrus or Kasumi or even Joker. He never told Hackett or Anderson or Jack or anyone. He kept it to himself, all bottled up; because he wasn't a whiner. He didn't complain. He simply got the job done. That's what being an N7 was about. Toughening up and pushing through.

Spectres were born, not made. He had been chosen because he didn't complain, he didn't falter, he wasn't weak. He did what needed to be done and then got to live when it was all over. That's why he was so unique.

But it was a burden he suffered nonetheless, and sometimes, it crippled him. But despite all of these thoughts, he couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips as he held out his hand for Kaidan to shake, "Welcome back to the Normandy, friend. You're always welcome," as the man took his hand and shook it, he finished with a whisper, "You're family."

Kaidan nodded, slightly surprised, "Shepard, you're willing to accept me back even after what happened? I pointed a  _gun_ at you."

He snorted, waving away his concern, "It was for a split second, and you reacted on reflex; any soldier would have done the same thing, Kaidan. You meant nothing by it, and in the end, you sided with me instead of Udina. That's what counts. Besides, its not like you actually thought I was working with Cerberus, was it?"

Kaidan chuckled slightly at that, "Somehow, for some reason, I feel like in an alternate universe, that would be different," he grinned, shaking his head as he shook his hand again, "But its not a universe I want to be in. I like the one I'm in just fine. So when do we leave?"

He blew out a long breath, motioning to the battered and blackened hull of the Normandy. Joker hadn't been joking when he said she had taken a pounding; one of the GARDIAN batteries hadn't folded back in, disabled and hanging off the wreckage after being damaged. From here, he could see workers in EVA hardsuits moving about in thruster packs, repairing the damage, "Not for another few days. Normandy's going to need alot of repairs after the damage the Deliverance dealt us."

"Yes, I heard about that," Kaidan murmured, slightly perturbed. He turned back to Marcus, looking slightly worried in that moment, "Shepard, I find it a bit concerning that there's a clone of the Normandy just wandering about out there with Cerberus colors. It doesn't exactly inspire courage."

"I'm still wrapping my head around it myself, but we should have known this would happen eventually. The Illusive Man has virtually unlimited resources, and he knew he couldn't beat the Normandy, so why not join it?" he shrugged, "It doesn't matter. The next time we meet the Deliverance, it won't be escaping, especially if what I hear is true, and its Leng's flagship. I'll reduce it to space dust."

"There's something I can get behind," Kaidan cheered, smiling slightly. He let out a long breath before suddenly whipping out his omni-tool and checking the time. Satisfied, he deactivated it, looking back up at him with a devillish grin, "Hey...I heard Apollo's is open downstairs. Want to get a bite to eat? I can page Garrus and Liara if they want to join us. And Kasumi, too."

Marcus smirked, "Somehow I think Kasumi's a bit...preoccupied," he motioned down the corridor, beginning to walk, "But that sounds nice. I could do with a break."

_A very long break._

But at least the Normandy's crew would be one man stronger from now on.

But there was still a space in engineering that needed to be filled. And until then, the Normandy would alway fill empty.

**{Loading...}**

_June 24, 2186_

_1342 hours._

_Elizabeth Tower, London, Republic of England/European Union, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Earth._

_Major Patrick Coats._

This metal was really uncomfortable.

That's the one thought that ran through Coats' mind as he lay against said metal, his standard issue light combat armor scarred and scorched from fighting, his right armoured gauntlet removed due to the amount of damage it had taken. His face was just as bad; he had once had a nice smooth face, a large nose, solid, small lips, nicely cropped black hair and pointed ears. Now he had been forced to shave his hair back, he had numerous scratches across his face that would later become scars, and he was covered in more dirt and soot than he had had in the Anhur Rebellions.

He had an Incisor sniper rifle flipped across in his lap, his hand pulling back the slot to eject the spent shell, before roughly shoving it back to insert the next one. His thermal clip had only half of its heat left, which meant he'd have about seven more shots before needing to reload.

War. It had been brought to Earth with a fury, and Coats had watched his country, his homeland of England, one of the economic and military leaders of the once proud European Union, burn to the first alien invaders to attack and occupy Earth.

It was like watching War of the Worlds, or any other alien invasion movie. They had come quickly with unbelievable might and strength, overwhelming their defenses and butchering civilians in the streets. And it wasn't just England; it was the whole world. The United North American States had been the first to be attacked, specifically the area around Vancouver. And steadily, one by one, the nations began to fall.

The Systems Alliance World Assembly was likely no more. He didn't even know if there was a city out there that was left untouched by the Reaper invasion. These days, there was two types of besieged city; Reaper concentration camp, or one the Reapers razed to the ground while slaughtering everyone inside.

London was both.

Despite his body screaming at him not too, he needed to get up. Ever since five days ago, the Elizabeth Tower, also known as Big Ben had been his watch tower; his bastion. For five days he had taken his sniper rifle and shot everything that moved. Indoctrinated, husks, whatever it was, it would die. He had watched as new types of husks came to Earth; the marauders, the brutes...they had all come like the raging storm. And they only bolstered the enemy forces.

His found felt along the dust for his water canteen. Finding it, he swished it around to uncover what was left. To his relief, he could hear the sloshing of water inside, and its weight was sufficient to mean there was at least half left. That would last him until he could make another run. He flipped the lid, unscrewing it as he placed it on his lap and took a long swig, the lukewarm water bitter and unenticing, but enough to satisfy his dry, sore throat.

He licked his lips, wetting them as he grabbed the lid and screwed it back on, this time tying it back to his utility belt so he doesn't need to look for it again. Forcing himself to stand up, he placed his incisor ontop of the metal sheet that was his cover, head popping up to look down on the streets below.

Big Ben was a ruined husk of what it was; one of England's most iconic symbols totalled beyond recall. The clock itself had been smashed completely, where he currently found refuge, able to be found just under the mechanics of the clock. The Reapers, to their credit, had left the tower well enough alone, but there was still the occassional chunk taken out of it by thanix shots or the odd explosion. It was a surprise the tower hadn't collapsed yet.

London was even worse; it was like a thunderstorm on perputual repeat. He didn't know how it worked, but it seemed the Reapers were able to manipulate weather patterns, because London never saw the light of day anymore; the sun was unable to pierce the black clouds that covered the sky, plummetting the city into constant darkness. Ruined towers littered the landscape, broken structures that were either shattered corpses of what they were or blown apart or crushed by Reaper firepower and weight. Some sections were sectioned off to become concentration camps; he had even spotted a school, either as a sick joke or simply out of necessity, which had been turned into a camp, with a Reaper Destroyer constantly standing vigil over it, eye scanning the city for any trying to escape. The all-seeing eye, for all intents and purposes.

Fires raged, smoke bellowed and the occassional report of a thanix cannon sounded in the background, some poor bastard incinerated. Screams were lesser now, as civilians or members of the worldwide resistance had learnt long ago to never engage the Reapers in direct combat; shadow tactics and guerillla warfare were their best friend now. Even Coats had learnt that very important lesson. The only sounds that could be heard was the odd moan from the concentration camps, or the screech and warble of a marauder as they patrolled the streets.

And then there was the Oculi. He watched a squadron of them fly by, patrolling the sky and streets as their eyes aided the Reapers in finding more victims or harassing the resistance. The Reapers were patient bastards; they could besiege Earth for a few centuries and still be patient enough to wait out the resistance. They knew Earth would fall eventually, and the resistance was formed more out of spite of the enemy than any real hope of victory. And if you were moving around on the street, the Oculi always spotted you. Always.

As a consequence, he kept his head down until the squadron had passed; usually they came by in pairs or groups of five. But sometimes they'd come in full force; a full fifteen scything through the sky in search of prey. Many would think that it would be representative of a large bulk of their force. But Coats had heard the reports; not even 8% of the Reaper forces were present on Earth, and barely 13% were in orbit, and even then their forces were ridiculous in sheer size. Thousands of capital ships, hundreds of destroyers, and millions upon millions of ground troops. He had no idea where they kept getting their troops, but yet again, something told him he didn't want to know.

So when he poked his head back up, lowered his rifle and peered down the scope, he knew what he was here for. Those husks, whether he wanted to believe it or not, had once been people. Living, breathing, ordinary people. Soldiers, factory workers, accountants, politicians, diplomats, lawyers, judges, solicitors, policemen, children, child-care workers, hard working labourers. And the Reapers had sucked the life from their bodies; leaving them an empty husk, befitting of their name. Whatever had made them who they were was now gone, leaving their minds empty, memories erased and personality deleted, converting them into the perfect cannon fodder; creatures of cybernetic enhancement, dumber than shit, yet their minds filled with the voices of their masters; the heralds of the cycle.

So he peered down the scope, zooming in until he could see the street in perfect quality; and from there, he immediately spotted a nice batch of lives to end. These had once been people, and now he would put them out of their misery. Put their corpses to rest long after their minds had already been gone. End their corrupted, horrible existence.

True to form, a group of several dozen husks moved lazily down the street, as they had been for several hours now. Unless the Reapers demanded action of them or directed them personally, the husks just ran in circles and attacked whenever they found something that wasn't tainted by Reaper corruption.

He had even watched as one husk had startled a dog before proceeding to send it running into a pack of its buddies, all of them proceeding to tear the flesh from its bones, leaving nothing but a bloody skeleton when they were finished. They were animals, useful for nothing but killing. It was terrible.

He lowered his scope over the skull of the nearest husk and pulled the trigger, taking a shaky breath. His rifle jerked and a clean hole drilled right through the husk's eyes, sending its body flying backwards and lying twisted on the ground. He sighed, pulling back the slot and pushing it back again, before finding another target and repeating the action, leaving another husk dead. Or rather, destroyed. The person was already gone. You can't kill something that isn't alive.

Again and again, his rifle jerked against his shoulder, and again and again, a husk fell, their blood, if you could call it that, splattered across Winschester road.

He scanned across the road, and found another type of husk; a marauder. The creature seemed to be scanning the road, phaeston assault rifle baring down range and attempting to find the source of its cohorts' deaths. It gave a screech, as if angered by its inability to locate its target. Coats finished that when he lowered his crosshair over the turian husk's head; he depressed the trigger once, banging against shields. Twice, shields fizzled and died. Thrice, and the marauder's head blew apart, spreading bits of perverted brain matter across the surface of the abandoned Mako behind it.

His weapon hissed angrily as he removed the spent thermal clip, slapping in a fresh one before lowering his rifle once more with a fresh amount of fourteen shots. He found a husk, ready to blow its head wide open.

Then a distant roar, and he got just enough time to slide back into cover before an Oculi flew by, so close that he felt the wind whip at him as it went past. He heard a few more speed past before he dared to pop his head up again, finding the skies finally clear. That had been a very close call.  _Another one like that, and I don't think I'll be able to duck in time._

He took aim with his rifle again, preparing to fire at a brute crawling across the street. He noticed that a dozen others had joined it, along with what looked to be hundreds of marauders, cannibals, husks, abominations, scions and praetorians down the street. He widened his eyes at it, deciding that aggravating a force like that would probably rouse unwanted attention; plus, those praetorians could fly, and he'd seen alot of 'witty' snipers get mauled to death by the creatures. He wasn't taking any chances.

Besides, it wasn't unusual to see such large forces prowling the streets. Hundreds of thousands of fresh troops deployed on Earth everyday, and for every husk they killed, forty replaced it, or a hundred. The Reapers had an almost non-stop supply of fresh troops to call upon, and London was pretty much overrun. The surface just wasn't safe anymore; the resistance lived in the sewers and areas that the Reapers hadn't discovered, or levelled, yet.

He instead let his scope follow their path, which lead of the Thames river. The river was a horrible sight to look at now; what had once been prestine water flowing in a tight stream was now littered with dead bodies, wreckage and rubble, cluttering it to the point of almost blockading some sections. The bridge had been left intact, and he watched as the enemy troops crawled across, a brute grabbing and tossing away a skycar that had been in its way.

Then, out of nowhere, a pulsating bang, and a blinding blue flash whitewashed his scope but for a moment, before dimming down again.

He frowned, looking up at the source; coming from over the Thames river, but on the horizon. And his eyes were quick to find the source.

It was subtle at first, a tinge of blue on the cityscape. But then it glowed brighter, and flashed brilliantly again, seemingly piercing the skies and enveloping the entire city before breaking again, returning everything to normal. And this time, it was able to see it before it fully died down; a ball of brilliant blue eminating from from what appeared to be only a few kilometers away. Frowning, he put his weapon down, leaning against the crate he had found and hauled up here to hold his supplies, quickly grabbing the binoculars strapped to his waist and bringing them up to his eyes, bringing it to the highest zoom he could get.

He got what he wanted, and the origin hadn't exactly been what he expected. Hyde Park, one of the largest, if not  _the_ largest, park out of the eight Royal Parks in London, was almost located smack bang in the center of the city, and was essentially London's polar opposite of Central Park in NYC, UNAS. It was an almost perfect rectangular shape, with two lakes, one being larger than the other, and the rest almost like a forest. By itself it was a solid 625 acres large, combined with its associate area, the Kensington Gardens, which had been absorbed into the parks after the secession of Scotland from the United Kingdom almost a hundred years ago.

So it was weird when he zoomed in to find what looked to be three Reaper Destroyers stalking through the area, one knocking aside a building carelessly as it set up what looked to be a defensive perimeter, not that they needed one. The other two seemed to be examining the area, sizing it up for something...but for what?

What importance did Hyde Park hold to a force like the Reapers? It was an open area and held no tactical advantage for the resistance, and the Reapers were monoliths; they could cause a bushfire with one shot and Hyde Park would be ended, right there and then. Or they could just raze it. So why place so much importance on it? And just what was that blue flashing?

It flashed again, almost blinding him this time. Blinking rapidly, he was able to recover in time to watch the clouds around the blast part, as if disturbed by something. Okay, now he was really curious, the man pulling away his binoculars as he let out a low breath.

And then the loudest boom he had ever heard in his life echoed throughout the city, shaking the ground like an earthquake. The sound rang in his eardrums even after it was finished; he had heard many Reaper airhorns, but none had been that loud. Only one had ever been that loud, and his fears were confirmed when he watched the clouds part once more, the hand of God reaching down to smite the Earth.

The six kilometer tall behemoth smacked into the Earth with such ferocious force that the Scots and Irish likely felt it kilometers away in their own countries. Its legs cramped as it served as shock absorber from the landing, straightening until the unbelievably tall super-dreadnought almost touching the clouds with its intense height.

 _Christ..._ Coats exclaimed, feeling even tinier upon seeing it. He had seen Sovereign-Class capital ships that were two kilometers long, and they dwarfed Big Ben, as tall as it was. But this monstrosity was totalitarian; a true leviathan. Every footfall thundered across the ground, and he imagined it had firepower beyond that of any of its brethren; possibly even stronger kinetic barriers. He had never seen anything like it in his life; never even dreamed he would. It was the stuff of nightmares.

And unlike its fellow Reapers, this thing had  _eyes._ Four, fiery golden irises that lingered upon its main body, looking as if they glowed with intense heat. He had heard reports of this titan, but he had never thought he'd see the thing face to face. It really ever landed on Earth ever since the Raze of Vancouver, prefering to remain in the space around Jump Zero; which, oddly enough, the Reapers hadn't even destroyed. They'd kept it around, for some nefarious purpose, he imagined.

Harbinger. That's what the reports called him; whether the Reapers called it that was unknown. But there was no doubting it; the rumors were real. The Leader of the Reapers was at Earth, and that meant trouble.

But if he was at Hyde Park, then there was something Coats didn't know. That noone knew about. And that meant trouble for humanity and their planet. Whatever the Reapers were planning over there, it wasn't good.

He was reenergized. The resistance needed to know about this. They needed to get the word out; the English, Scottish and Irish resistance couldn't work alone. They needed the help of the entire worldwide resistance; only then could they hope to make a difference. And they had to hook up with those Israelis; those tough nuts had taken out a destroyer; with a nuclear payload of course, but they had downed one, nonetheless. That counted for something.

So he collected his stuff. Took another swig, took a bite of one of his MREs, and then headed down the steps to head down to the bottom. He couldn't stay in London anymore; Earth needed to unite, globally. He needed to find a way out of England, to warn people of what was happening here. Because the Reapers were up to something, and if it involved Harbinger, then the word needed to be spread, and quickly. He would leave England, gather allies in Ireland and Scotland, and then leave for Europe; there he would gather allies abroad; Ukraine, Sweden, Finland, Romania, Germany, France, Switzerland, Luxembourg. He would find allies in all the countries all over the continents; Africa, India, China, Japan, Russia, Malaysia, Australia, New Zealand, Tasmania, Israel, Egypt, Jordan, Syria, Saudi Arabia; far and abroad he would go. And only when the resistance was united under one network would they return to his homeland, to England.

And by then, he hoped Shepard would return with the full might of an armada at his back.

Shit was going down on Earth.

**{Loading...}**

_June 26, 2186_

_0956 hours._

_Third Bayt Ha'mik Dash (The Third Temple), Old Jerusalem, State of Israel/Middle Eastern Confederacy, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Earth._

_Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson, General Joshua David._

For a planet under siege, Jerusalem was relatively left untouched by the Reaper occupation.

It was funny, really. The whole world was burning; entire cities had fallen, entire nations crumbled, and their powerful leaders either indoctrinated, huskified or murdered. Any militaries had been annihilated, their nuclear capability stolen from them (at least most of it) and any help cut off. Anderson didn't know about the rest of the galaxy, but he knew this; Earth was on its own. Noone would be coming to help for awhile. At least not until Shepard brought the reinforcements and formed the armada.

But as untouched as Jerusalem was by the fighting, it wasn't totally ignorant of it. Explosions could be heard in the distance, and Reaper airhorns boomed through the air, clear as day. Thanix guns fired, missiles exploded, people shouted, mass acellerator fire echoed.

Israel, along with the rest of the world, had been overwhelmed. The Reapers had secured the Golan Heights first, and despite fierce resistance from the IDF, they couldn't hope to hold them off. It had been then that Joshua David, commander-in-chief of the Israeli Defense Force, had made the retreat to Tel Aviv, where the Israelis kept their secret stock of nuclear weapons; a violation of Alliance law, but in times like this, he didn't think anyone was around to give a shit.

Tel Aviv had fallen, but had been the birth of a miracle; a brave squad of Shayatet 13, Israeli special forces, had boarded a destroyer using a Krav Maga gunship, which was superior almost in every way to the galaxy-wide used and accepted A-67 Mantis Gunship, and then detonated a 42 kiloton nuclear payload within the abomination. The squad lost their lives, and Tel Aviv was almost entirely razed, but the destroyer had been destroyed, showing everyone on Earth that the Reapers weren't gods and weren't invincible; after that, there had been cheer over the comms in hebrew dialect.

But now only Jerusalem remained; possibly the last city on Earth left untouched.

That had confused him, but it hadn't surprised Israel. They were convinced that their God was watching over them, keeping the Reapers away. Others believed the Reapers were agents of God himself, sent to right the sins of humanity and punish the unbelievers. They didn't represent the majority opinion however.

As it was, Anderson and what resistance was left from his journey through Asia and Europe were pretty well accounted for. They had food, water and accomodations that were as good as they going to get. He thought of this as he took a swig of a water bottle he was given, and then sunk his teeth into the loaf he was given, enjoying the heavenly taste of it.

Jerusalem was a beautiful city, even in its state. Currently, there was the old and new cities. Old Jerusalem was a relic of hundreds of years, while New Jerusalem was a sign of economical and technological evolution. New Jerusalem was a jewel among the Alliance, even compared to colonies like Elysium, Bekenstein and Horizon. Gleaming skyscrapers that reached into the sky, the Star of David flapping in the wind, tall and proud; a symbolism of a people who had outlasted the best the world could throw at them. The Roman Empire, the Egyptian Kingdoms, the tribes of Canaan, the Babylonians, the British Empire, Nazi Germany, the Palestinians and all the other Arab nations, the persecution of the UN, the nuclear attack of Iran, and the United States Invasion of the West Bank. They had survived them all, bested them all. And they were still here. Anderson had to give it to them; he was agnostic himself, but these people, these Jews, were proud of who they were, loved their God, and continued despite the hate thrown at them.

He sat in Old Jerusalem, at the steps of the Third Temple, a fable among the people of Israel and a monument they would defend to the last breath; with the power of God, they'd have you believe. The first had been destroyed by Babylon, the second by General Titus of Rome. But now the Third Temple stood, built in the seven years following the nuclear annihilation of Iran in 2018, and it was a powerful symbol indeed. A true sign of Israeli ingenuity.

He shot a look at the Israeli soldiers standing infront of them. They wore armor built by the long lasting Rafael Industries; state-of-the-art, heat-resistant, medium strength Samson combat armor, outfitted with light-weight plating and reinforced welding, allowing the user to move quickly across a long distance whilst being adequately protected. The star of David, as always, was prominent on their armor's left breast, and their helmet was sealed, olfactory filters switched on to filter out any deadly contaminants. They carried old model Shalom VII marksman rifle; they fired high-velocity depleted uranium rounds that melted through the armor on tanks and unleashed hell on husks. They were obselete compared to the current Shalom X marksman rifles, which used a combination of eezo and polonium, but still pretty damn effective.

A single Mako was parked on the road, and he listened and watched as a Merkava Mark XII drove by, medium sized turret rotating on a large body as it escorted a convoy of grizzly tanks, driving with the speed of a Hammerhead, but with the stability of a Mako. However, considering its rifled barrel and artillery like performance, that didn't constitute for much.

It had been a long journey to this part of the world. The Reaper presence had been heavier in the countryside than they had expected, and they had been forced to land on Japan's southeast coast and take smaller ships to the mainland due to a battlegroup of a dozen or so Raven-Class Swipers, which had been swiping through the ocean with methodical precision; they knew of humanity's affinity of submarines and water-based ships, and had prepared accordingly, apparently. They were even swiping the coast; Anderson had watched the distance as the swipers found their beached fleet and completely destroyed it, decimating what was left of the UNAS navy.

Reaching Manchuria hadn't been as difficult. Getting through China was a pain, as the entire country had urbanized quite a bit over the past century, and ever since the end of the 21st Century, Hong Kong has transformed into a mega city, with Beijing developing into one of the biggest population centers in human history, with a whopping one billion residents. Now, it was likely one billion husks.

Still, despite this, they had cut through southern China and into the Indian Protectorate, which had absorbed Pakistan in 2061 after the Third Indian-Pakistani War, and then moved along the coast until they entered the Middle East. After crossing the borders of No Man's Land; the remnants of Iran, they had met their problems, which came in the form of an ambush by indoctrinated Syrian troops, who had proceeded to kill the man he had come to know as a friend; Sheriff Yanus Barnes. However, they eventually escaped, and afterwards, managed to find their way to Jerusalem, and hence his current predicament.

He felt an itch around his forehead and promptly removed his Admiral's cap, dusting it off as he dropped it unceremoniously into his lap, which was just as dirty. His uniform had seen alot of wear and tear, and he knew when this was over, he'd probably have to decomission it. It certainly wasn't fit for duty any longer.

He heard footsteps echo down the temple steps, and he had to twist in the spot to see who it was. The familiar face of Joshua David appeared, grizzled face covered in scars and dust, with a short, but gruff, beard, heavy, sulken eyes and a cipper splayed across his scalp. He removed it, folding it and placing it in his left pocket before retrieving his helmet and snapping it into place over his head, his voice like sandpaper as he spoke, "Troopers, Baruch Hashem, may Hashem watch over us and protect us all in his light. Amen. Shabbut Shalom."

"Shabbut Shalom," the soldiers replied in unison, snapping crisp salutes. Anderson knew enough about the Sabbath to know that this day, this Saturday, was the holiest of all holy days on the Israeli calender; a day of relaxation. The Reapers had violated that sanctity, and to most Israelis, that was enough to enrage them.

He nodded, turning to Anderson, "I trust your accomodations are not too bad, Admiral? We don't get many Alliance brass down in Israel, so you'll have to excuse us for not being more...formal."

He snorted, dusting himself off as he came to stand, "I don't think my comfort matters much, General. Not in times such as this."

"Do you believe in God, Admiral?" the general asked, taking Anderson off guard. That was a very irrelevant question, but one he chose to answer was a courtesy.

"I am not," Anderson replied, "Although, I am very open to the idea."

"That is good. Forgive my bluntness Admiral, but I must be blunt," he slapped his back, and he swore he saw the man's eyes sparkle with mirth, "But only a fool, deep down in his heart, does not believe in God."

Anderson wasn't satisfied by that remark, as it was quite...arrogant, in a certain context, but he chose not to ponder on it. They had larger concerns, "How goes the defense of the city?"

"That is a good question," the general replied, quickly keying his helmet comm, "Wall, how goes the defense? Has there been any change?"

The man's response seemed to satisfy the commander, as he simply nodded with a long winded sigh, "Copy Wall, keep watch," he turned back to Anderson and shrugged, "Unchanged. Our artillery and Merkavas are hitting them with everything they have, but they refuse to engage us. They don't send any troops, they don't return fire, and they make no moves to breach our walls. They always keep a distance of exactly 2.6 kilometers and no closer. They raze everything else, but leave us totally alone. I'd narrow it down to siege tactics, but these bastards have firepower capable of levelling cities in an hour. They could steamroll us if they wanted to; but they don't. And they don't seem to mind when we make supply runs for food and water. They just shrug off our attacks, and they haven't sent troops to breach the walls. I'm starting to think they're just playing with us."

Anderson creased his lips; this had been the story for the past two days. All of Israel was Reaper occupied territory, but when it came to Jerusalem, they seemed completely uninterested in attacking the city. It was odd, out of place for Reaper strategy. Their method of operation was to attack anything and everything in sight that isn't Reaper, regardless of identity, origin or affiliation. Even their indoctrinated agents got the right end of the stick when they fullfilled their purpose. But when it came to this one city, they just stopped. What was it that made them stop?

Joshua spoke again, bringing him from his thoughts, "Where is the prime minister? Are the rabbis safe?"

"They are currently gathered in the Knesset, sir," the soldier replied. Anderson knew they were all speaking in hebrew, but once again, the miracles of translation software really did help matters, "They're in session, last I checked. Something about a worldwide resistance."

"Sounds like a fool's agenda," the general scoffed, moving down the steps as several troopers followed behind him, all wearing uniforms with the Mossad Intelligence Agency insignia plastered on their back, "What do we hope to achieve? Our militaries are scattered to the wind, and the Reapers own almost every scrap of land we have. The Final War of Gog and Magog is upon us; our species has finally found a war that is tactically unwinnable," he sighed as he reached the Mako, Anderson and his men following behind him, "Only God can save us now."

"Final War of Gog and Magog?" one of Anderson's men asked, frowning as he holstered his predator sidearm, "What is that? I've never heard of it."

"Armageddon, trooper," Joshua replied with what seemed to be smug indifference, as if you  _should_ know about it, the hatch for the mobile tank opening before him as his troops moved inside, "The final war of humanity as said in the Torah. Gog and Magog will engage in a final battle that will choose the fate of nations. Magog, the hostile nations, shall launch a simultaneous assault upon the Jewish people in a final attempt to annhilate them. And in that one moment, Hashem shall show himself, annihilate the armies of Magog in flashes of bright light, and show the people unity and prosperity. All shall know Hashem, and all war shall end. Swords will become shovels, shields shall become plows.' This is that war, but in a different form. The Reapers will attack us, and only after God has annihilated them with his might, will we know peace."

Anderson had to admit that was deep, but it seemed nonsensical to assume that the Reapers were Magog.

They all piled into the Mako, the vehicle driving down the road as it moved towards the Knesset building; the seat of Israeli parliament and theocracy, and the capital of the Middle Eastern Confederacy. Israel was essentially the defacto capital of the united middle eastern nations, as were provided in the Damascus-Jerusalem Treaty of 2047 after the end of the Third World War, which made all the countries answer to Israel, and could not initiate any actions without ultimate consent of the Knesset. It would also the first time Israel announced its economical independence of the United States, developing a swift and powerful economy of its own, and assuming control of the Middle East's oil reserves; something that would become irrelevant a century later when NASA discovered the Mars Archives.

The Knesset building was impressive by itself; a huge skyscraper flanked by four others, all linked by sky bridges. It was an impressive piece of Israeli engineering, and effectively towered over the UAE's (which was now dissolved as per the Damascus-Jerusalem Treaty and split into four countries, all of which was owned by the countries around it) Burj Khalifa skyscraper, which had been the tallest tower in the world before hand. It was gigantic.

They all had separate functions; the middle tower was the Knesset building itself and all its departments. The first tower belonged to the embassies housing all the subjugated Arab nations, from the saudis to Syria. The second tower was for military leadership and contained the Israeli High Command, FleetCom, both sea and space. The third tower belonged to the Systems Alliance Israeli HQ, as the MEC was part of the Alliance. And the fourth tower was recent, still under construction, and had been planned to be the headquarters of the ICMA (Israeli Colonial Management Administration), which was a new development after Israeli authorities laid claim to the abandoned Freedom's Progress colony and, instead of following protocol and claiming it in the name of the Systems Alliance, claimed it in the name of the MEC. This started a new wave of Israeli space colonization; something that had seriously pissed off Alliance parliament before its destruction.

He sighed, rubbing his temples as he turned to the General, who sat in the co-pilot seat, "You wouldn't happen to have anyway of communicating with the outside would you?"

"Indeed we do," he replied curtly. Seeing as Anderson was not satisfied with that answer he growled, spinning to face the man with an irritated face, "You think Cerberus was the first to develop quantum entanglement? Refael's communications division's been working on that for at least a full year and a half. Ours wasn't as perfected, but we had it before those bastards did. Now we've perfected it. Its our only form of communications now; we want to talk with the White House or Kremlin, we send a message through QEC. Why? You need it?"

 _The Normandy has quantum entanglement. And Hackett. Maybe I can find out what's going on out there._ He shifted forward, grunting, "I need access to one of those QECs to make contact with Admiral Hackett. You heard of Shepard?"

"The Hero of the Citadel? Of course I know him. He's one of us," Joshua grinned at that, "Why? Do you?"

"Yes," he replied bluntly, "I need a QEC to make contact. His ship's outfitted with one, and I just happen to know the frequency."

"Guess it wouldn't help to know what's going on out there," the general nodded, conceding as he turned to the man behind him, "Trooper, once we're inside, get him to a QEC as soon as possible."

Joshua had been true to his word. Anderson had hardly gotten any time to explore or examine the building before he was introduced to a dark room, the soldier standing crisply at the doorway as he addressed the chief tech, who had been bent over the console and examining it. He looked surprised by the Alliance officer present, but seemed to relent when the soldier told him why he was here. He activated it, the familiar blue hum of the device lighting up the room dimly as it became charged. And after that, both men left, leaving him alone.

Without hesitation, he moved up to the control console, imputting the frequency needed to access the Normandy's QEC. Once imputted, he stepped onto the device, watching it glow and spark as a line of energy moved up his body, coating him in holographic pixels. By the time it was finished, he found himself, or at least thought he found himself, in the Normandy's QEC center.

He examined the dark room to find the control console, with a dark-skinned woman he recognized crouched over and typing into it. She didn't seem to notice him.

"Specialist Traynor," his voice caused her to almost jump back, eyes shooting up as she met his own, "Hard at work, I see."

"Admiral Anderson, sir!" she shot up, snapping a salute as quickly as she could, almost stumbling over herself as she did,

He returned the salute, waving hers down, "At ease, specialist. Is the Normandy docked?"

"We're under repairs, but that's a long story, sir," Samantha replied, dropping her hand as she braced against her console, "May I ask how you got access to a QEC sir?"

"I'm in Israel. They happen to have alot," Anderson replied, grinning slightly. But then the urgency returned, and he cleared his throat, eager to continue, "Specialist, I need you to get the comm-the captain." He had to remember that he had given the man a promotion before he left, so he wasn't really a commander anymore.

A familiar voice entered the room, laced with surprise, "I'm right here, Anderson."

His head turned to face the man, and he was shocked by what he saw. Anderson must have looked in perfect shape by his standards; the man's uniform was ruffled, like he had been sleeping in it, he moved around sluggishly, and he seemed to brace against the wall like it was the only thing helping him stand. It was quite the shock.

"Specialist, leave us," to his credit, Shepard's voice was as strong and commanding as it always was, and Samantha hastily left, the door closing behind them. Marcus sighed in that moment, moving over as he crossed his arms, standing straighter, "Anderson. Its...good to see you. How goes the resistance?"

He shook his head, rubbing his temples as he took his cap off once more, "Shoddy, at best. Nothing organized yet, and I'm currently stuck in Jerusalem. Reapers seem to be leaving it well enough alone, and Israel's military is strong enough to put up a decent fight. I'll bunker down here for now, but there's been word of a worldwide resistance. Hopefully its something fruitful. Otherwise, its looking very bleak."

"Not much better up here, I'm afraid," Marcus replied, "In addition to Earth, the turian primarch has just been forced to retreat from Palaven. Illium, Noveria and Feros has fallen, Omega is under Cerberus control, and the Citadel just survived an attempted siege by Cerberus forces. Happened about four days ago."

"Cerberus?" he frowned, surprised by that information.  _Omega? A siege of the Citadel? Where did Cerberus get that kind of power?_ "How the hell did they manage that?"

The man shrugged, "I was just as surprised. Apparently, in the six months I've been locked up, Cerberus has been militarizing. They've got their own navy and army, and they've been pestering us for the majority of the war. They were on Noveria before it fell, they had taken Eden Prime before I helped liberate it, they've taken Omega thanks to a former Alliance general, and apparently they've developed their own Normandy rip-off. Hence why the Normandy is under repairs; had a run in with it."

He whistled, shaking his head as his hands clasped behind his back, "The Illusive Man has certainly been busy. Not too much trouble, I hope?"

"Not much. We've defeated them in almost every situation so far, and we've achieved quite a bit," he seemed to cheer up at this, coming to stand straighter, "The armada, Anderson? We call it the United Galactic Confederacy, or UGC for short. I've acquired the support of what's left of the batarians, the hanar, elcor and the volus, as well as Aria T'Loak, which means I have all the mercenary groups, including the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack. It took curing the genophage to get the krogan's support, but we got it and, along with it, we got the turian hierarchy on our side. And now, just recently, I've got the support of the salarians and there's a decision pending with the Republics on whether the asari will add to that. Overall, its looking pretty damn good."

 _Curing the genophage?_ Anderson thought, feeling his jaw almost drop. But he kept his mouth in a firm line of professionalism, resisting the urge to grin.  _Never the one for simple things; always got to change history along the way. Next, he'll tell me he's retaken Rannoch and gotten the quarians and geth to work together._ He nodded, "Good job, Shepard. But we need the whole galaxy united, not just a few disparate groups," he frowned, gulping, "You didn't mention the quarians or the geth. How about them?"

Marcus sighed, nodding, "That'll be the next thing on the agenda. No idea what's up with the quarians, but I'll try to make contact with the geth; secure them Rannoch, if possible. Getting both of them on our side will be a bonus for all of us. They have more ships than all the Council races combined, not to mention the firepower. The geth don't have an economy or budget holding them back, and they don't have civilians."

"Indeed," he replied appropriately, liking where this was going, "Once they're on our side, we might be good to go."

"There's something else Anderson," Marcus began, clearing his throat as braced against the console, "We found schematics for a prothean superweapon in the Mars Archives called the Crucible. The protheans, apparently, had found blueprints for a weapon the Inusannon constructed capable of wiping out the Reapers. Its been under construction for quite awhile, and while its only halfway towards completion, it could be our path to victory. We need to find something called the catalyst first however; it apparently helps the weapon differentiate between everything else and the Reapers. Once we have it however...we can use it to wipe out the Reapers. We might not even need the fleets, but its better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it, I guess."

His eyes widened at this revelation, amazed by the sheer progress made, but this Crucible peaked his interests the most by far.  _A weapon that could annihilate the Reapers and end the cycle once and for all? Seems a bit lucky, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Better to take every possibility of victory we can._

Then came the real nutcracker. The war itself. Anderson knew Marcus was no stranger to losing friends and soldiers, but he had grown especially close to his particular cohort. He had been present at the man's wedding and met almost all of them; Marcus saw them as extended family.

"The war must have taken its toll," he stated, hoping Marcus picked up on what he meant.

"It..." the man began, choking up before he could finish. After a minute, he picked up again, sighing, "The war is nowhere close to over, and I've already lost too many friends, Anderson. Jacob Taylor, Mordin Solus, and, recently, Thane Krios."

Anderson knew all three of them, especially Jacob Taylor. He had offered the man time as an alliance marine, but he had politely refused, stating he was loyal to Shepard and wanted to build his own path. He couldn't believe the man was dead, "What happened?"

"Mordin died curing the genophage. He was the one to formulate it afterall. He died a hero to the krogan," upon finishing his sentence, Anderson noticed the man's hands tighten on the rail in anger, "Lost Jacob on Noveria. It came under attack from Cerberus, and we were almost done evacuating when this cowardly piece of shit killed him. He goes by the name Kai Leng. He killed Thane too during the Citadel Siege, but only after Thane had kicked his ass and stopped him from assassinating Councilor Valern. And that brings me to what I think you're going to want to hear the most," his eyes met Anderson's, fully of shock and anger, "Udina's dead. He was working for Cerberus."

Anderson couldn't help widening his eyes this time.  _What!? I knew Udina was always a human centralist, but I never thought he'd go that far! Betraying us to Cerberus?_ Still, in the end, only one thing mattered: was the position filled? He shared no love for Udina, and he knew the feeling was mutual, and wasn't sad to see him go, especially after learning of his treachery, "I assume a new councilor has been elected."

Marcus nodded, "Dominic Osoba. You'd like him; very militaristic and quick on his feet. He'll be better than Udina."

He nodded, sighing. And it finally came down to this. Just how was the man fairing? He looked like shit, and that was no overstatement. He looked like he hadn't slept well in weeks, and his body looked tanned and pitifully looked after, more so than he was, "You haven't told me about you Marcus; how are you? You don't look too good."

"To be honest with you sir, I don't feel much of anything these days," he replied curtly, refusing to meet Anderson's gaze, "I've become...slightly impartial to all that's been happening. You never get used to it, but I'm numb to it. Its just how the Reapers work, and I'm just glad I don't have to stick around on a colony too long to see what they do to the populace. As selfish as it sounds, the Normandy feels safe. I know it isn't, but compared to everywhere else, it feels like a damn safehouse. And then you got the Illusive Man...I can't believe it, Anderson. I didn't want to, but I think TIM isn't just working with the Reapers, I think he's indoctrinated. All of Cerberus. I don't know how it happened or when, but it did, and now I feel like we're fighting a war on two fronts. One side you have Cerberus, and the other you have the Reapers. And there just doesn't seem to be an end to any of it."

"Everything has an end," the rear admiral sternly dictated, "You just need to ignore your sore ankles and get to it. You're a soldier, Marcus; you'll toughen up and stride on, because nobody else will. Besides, when this war is over, you can retire: I know you've earned it. Settle down, live with your pretty wife," he said with his nostalgic and sentimental longing, remembering his own past mistakes as his smile grew, not quite reaching his eyes, and he knew it, "Do what I should have done but never did. Don't forsake everything you have for the service, Marcus. When the war is over, its over. Just quit, take your wife, and live your life. The military isn't a career; don't make it one."

The soldier didn't seemed uplifted this, he actually seemed...sadder? Anderson couldn't quite tell, as the man refused to look him in the eye. His body simply sagged before nodding, "I'll keep that in mind, Anderson. Right now, I've got to go. There's...alot to do."

Anderson nodded, "Very well, I'll try to keep posted as much as possible. You have my frequency, so keep me updated of anything that happens. Earth is waiting patiently, Marcus."

"I haven't forgotten Earth, sir," he replied firmly, "Shepard out."

He was nodding even as the console dimmed and he stepped off the plate. That had been quite interesting, but Marcus' demeanour had been questionable. The very mention of the word 'wife' seemed to have made him sadder, and he couldn't understand why.  _He didn't mention her in the casualty report, so what's wrong, I wonder?_

His thoughts didn't get time to process as the door behind him opened again, and he spun to see General David.

He nodded to the man, who just stared at him. He frowned, crossing his arms, "Is there something wro-?"

"We just got word from the resistance in Germany. They just joined up with the English, Irish and Scottish resistance," he stated, "And now they're uniting Europe. It seems that someone has finally decided to make an organized effort. And from what we got over the channels is that they plan on coming here and making this their headquarters."

Anderson's eyes widened at that, clearly having not expected that, "Already? Did they say who was forming this resistance?"

"Someone by the name of Major Coats. He said something about 'the time for action is now' and 'danger is building in London.' Whatever the hell that means," he sighed, squaring his shoulders, his helmet off and tucked under one arm as two of his soldiers flanked him, "What does it matter? What matters is that we've got probably every damn human left in the world willing to pick up a gun coming down here and the Knesset doesn't know what to do with them. We've got our own people to protect."

"We can't fight the Reapers alone, General. None of us can," he replied, moving closer until he was inches away, "But what did Coats mean 'danger is building in London'? Did he elaborate at all?"

He shrugged again, a common trait with this decorated commander, "He said something about a Harbinger, and how there seems to be massive Reaper activity in London, or something. Nothing we don't already know. Reaper activity is massive all over the damn planet. London isn't special."

Anderson felt his throat tighten at that.  _Harbinger is in London? This is serious indeed._ Harbinger never landed on Earth unless it was important; in Vancouver, Shepard had been there. But in London? What was so important about that city that required its attention?  _Whatever it is, it can't spell good for us._ "Helping that resistance might just be our top priority, General. If Harbinger is in London, then something big is going on and we need to find out what. Getting to London needs to be a top priority."

"Who the hell is Harbinger?" one trooper asked, garnering a glare from his superior officer. The soldier nodded, muttering silent apologies through a firm salute, before falling silent again.

"While I'll excuse his rash behaviour, his question is a good one. Who is this Harbinger and why do you say its name like its something we should fear above all else?"

"The Leader of the Reapers, General. The very core of their armada, and the deadliest, most powerful Reaper in existence," he stated firmly, "He is six kilometers in size, and has more thanix cannons on his form than a dreadnought has GARDIAN batteries. The bastard is the most chilling creature you'll ever encounter, and he rarely lands on Earth unless something big is about to happen," he moved in, eyes full of steel, "Right now, he is in London, and we're going to find out just  _why_ , because it could mean our  _extinction,_  General. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

He certainly hoped it would.

Because whatever was going on London could change the course of the war entirely.

Little did he know it, but Anderson was right. London would change the course of the war completely.

And the site of the biggest battle in history.

**{Loading...}**

_July 3, 2186_

_1357 hours._

_Main Bridge, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina, Commander Igra'Trasp vas Machina, Quartermaster Gunner Sama'Raan vas Machina._

It had all gone so well. Her fleet had taken the Far Rim Cluster, overwhelming the geth forces there and easily taking Haestrom, pushing the geth back to the Perseus Veil. From there, she had linked up with the rest of the Migrant Fleet and pushed deeper and deeper into the Veil, taking back more and more of their old territory, until eventually they had taken every system within, except the one that mattered the most; Tikkun, home system of the quarian species.

They had moved inside, taking world after world, until eventually they reached Rannoch. The homeworld was beautiful; a garden world comparable to Earth, but with 32 hour days, a drier, more arid climate, less oceans and more land, and slightly smaller, but only slightly. Overall, Rannoch was just what the ancestors had described it as. Her people were coming home. Their three hundred year exile was over.

And then they had made the final push, and everything had fallen apart.

They had the geth fleet completely surrounded; reinforcements were scattered across the cluster, but wouldn't reach them for several hours, so for now, they had the bulk of the geth navy situated over Rannoch; a mighty thirty thousand ships, with one thousand and ninety-seven capital ship weight, largely battleships and carriers, ten thousand cruiser weight, and the others being destroyers, frigates and many fighters. Usually, this would be more than enough to overwhelm the quarian fleet, but they had their secret weapons, and so Tali had sent their first wave forward; a picket of four hundred heavy cruisers, six hundred and twelve frigates and one thousand fighter wings, which was hoped would breach the geth lines with their scramblers, allowing second wave, which was the bulk of the heavy fleet and some of the patrol fleet mixed together as reserves, spearheaded by her flagship, to move in and decimate the geth line, allowing them the ability to FTL rabbit inside the enemy formation and cripple them from the inside and out. A turkey shoot, as Marcus would call it.

But when she sent first wave forward, she had sent them right into a trap.

She didn't know how they had done it, but when her ships had fired their scramblers, which should have stunned the geth ships like a flashbang grenade, the geth ships had continued forward, totally unaffected. Their weapons had opened fire, with greater accuracy and power than they had before, tearing into their lines. They FTL rabbitted right into the quarian formation, with frigates being torn to shreds and cruisers blowing apart as the geth ships mercilessly targetted and annihilated them. At first it had been frigates, but then geth cruisers moved in, and finally, the arrival of two geth battleships had forced her to order her ships to fall back and regroup while the reserves attempted direct interception.

Backed by fighter wings, her ships had managed to cripple a geth light cruiser attempting to retreat, while their combined firepower, with support from fighters, tackled and destroyed two more frigates before, yet again, their attacks were impeded, beginning the cycle again. The geth poured their ships through the holes made, beginning to lay waste to the quarian fleet.

What had been a rapid victory, was turning into rapid destruction for the quarian forces and the worst thing was...

...they had no idea  _how._

 _Our weapons were working just fine!_ She growled inwardly, flinching as her ship shook once more from a kinetic impact.  _Now all of a sudden they're totally immune!_ Tali had to wonder if this had been a geth trap all along; had they planned this? But if so, why even bother with the secrecy? Why not simply destroy the quarian ships? They were completely superior. No, something else had happened to make the geth so powerful. They were machines, yes, but they had never been so accurate as to be able to snipe a heavy cruiser from a distance several billion kilometers away. No ship in the galaxy, even the geth, had that sort of range capability. So where the hell had this sudden surge of power come from? Why was their victory being turned into a rout?

And that's what it was; entire ships were abandoning their formations and fleeing, entire squadrons of cruisers striking their colors and making best speed for the relay, only to be rallied by Koris' Civilian Fleet. One by one, they routed, fleeing before the might of the geth armada; an ironic repeat of the exile that had happened three hundred years prior.

And now Tali's ship was to be subjected to the full brunt of the enemy assault, her ship shaking almost constantly as shots impacted its kinetic barriers, her pilot doing her best to avoid the shots trying to hit them, but against the geth's insanely accurate weaponry, it was a moot point; even Joker couldn't dodge some of these shots.

"Bring the GARDIANs up and online and lock onto that frigate!" she ordered, gripping her seat in a painful grip as she spun to face her navigator, "Helm, bring us around so we're facing that bosh'tet on a broadside!"

"Ma'am, we'll be more vulnerable to those guns!" helm replied.

Sama was quick to shout her own alarm, "Geth frigate bearing weapons and charging! We have ten seconds before they open fire!"

"Those are your damn orders, so execute them!" Tali snarled, almost flying from her chair as a rocket slammed into the Machina's hull. Their kinetic barriers continued to hold, but that would change very soon if they didn't break this hold the geth had.

In the moment it took for their ship to come into broadside, Tali was given a full view of the monster of a ship that commanded the geth fleet; a super-dreadnought. Geth dreadnoughts were rare and few, yes, but none were as big or powerful as the monster seen before them. This super-dreadnought was the same size as a Sovereign-Class Reaper, if not slightly bigger, being 2.3 kilometers in length. It had infrared GARDIAN batteries, heavy plasma turrets and mortars lined along its hull. It even had fourteen thanix cannons; a lesson they had learnt when Gerrel attempted to send the Montgomery, a commandeered Cerberus warship from a year ago, to take out the ship, but had only been forced to watch as it was cut clean in half by a single red lance of energy. So ended the attempts by the Migrant Fleet to even attack the ship; they stayed well out of its range.

But its most fearsome feature was its titantic main gun; superior to the standard MAC in almost every way, this 'energy projector' as they called it was capable of channelling enormous amounts of plasma into a single shot. The results were devastating; she had watched five cruisers become vaporized by a single shot; just blinked out of existence. The weapon, luckily, could only fire every 60 seconds, but when it did...well, even a dreadnought couldn't stand up to its power. It was unbelievably powerful, easily outmatching anything the Reapers had by far. She doubted even Harbinger would be able to stand up to it; in the end, plasma beat thanix cannons.

Her attention was brought back to the battle before them as Sama announced they were opening fire, and their ship shuddered as it unleashed their payload. She watched the tactical screen on her chair, cursing in numerous khelish phrases her mother would scold her for as she noted that their barrage only depleted about half of the frigate's shields; normally, it would penetrate its shielding and then some, but with the geth's sudden upgraded capability, they seemed to be able to take alot more punishment.  _Where are they getting these damn upgrades from!?_

She didn't hear helm's shout of warning as the geth salvo impacted, and this time, Tali  _was_ thrown from her chair. Her mask slammed into the ground, but thanks to the reinforced glass, not even a crack appeared. She watched a console explode, shrapnel embedding itself in the face of its quarian operator as he slumped back in his chair, red blood spurting from a ruptured mask. More consoles exploded, fires breaking out along the bridge as her crew tried to rein them in. It was complete chaos.

She struggled to get up, only for the ship to shake again, forcing her back to the ground. She growled, trying to push herself up. She needn't have bothered, as a slim hand slid under her arm and pulled her up, Tali finding herself looking into Igra's eyes.

"Are you alright, captain!?" she shouted, trying to get heard over the sounds of explosions rocking the ship.

"I'll be fine! Damage report!" she roared, moving to stand infront of her command chair, which had been yanked from its base and tossed across the room haphazardly. She stood over the corpse of her former navigation officer, Sama, who had been thrown from her console, a wreckage embedded in her chest.

"Fires in engineering and on Decks 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9!" her comms officer shouted, "Four GARDIAN batteries offline! MAC operational, but our point lasers are  _flaf deh'ca leet!_ We're running on bare minimal power; engineering says we can't manage military speed without overloading the drive core!"

Tali saw the helplessness of their situation and growled, shouting as she gave the order, "Retreat! All ships, forego the regroup! Fall back to the heavy fleet! Order the Patrol Fleet to cover our withdrawal! All units, fall back to the relay!"

"Negative, Admiral!" her comm officer replied, turning to face her with what looked to be fear, "The geth have cut us off! Their reinforcements have arrived and have cut us off from the relay!"

Her eyes widened in panic, finding herself at a loss for what to do.  _No, my people can't go out like this. I promised Marcus, I_ _ **promised...**_ She tried to think of what to do, what  _he_ would do in a situation like this, but found herself empty-handed. Her people were trapped in a pincer movement with the geth closing from all sides. There would be no escape from this.

There was only one option. Only one way to save the quarian people, and it wouldn't be from within.

They needed help.

A fire filled her.  _I need_ _ **you,**_ _Marcus._

"Ma'am!" her comms spoke again, Tali merely giving a nod as she watched the Machina, followed by the remnants of first and second wave, begin to fall back towards the Civilian Fleet, which was now repositioning so that the Heavy Fleet, Special Projects and Patrol Fleet could protect it from the flanking geth, "We've got the Admiralty Board on the comm!"

"Put them through!" Tali barked, hands clasping behind her back and straightening her posture, despite her ship's predicament.

"Admiral Shepard, this is Admiral Xen! I have found the source of the geth upgrades!" she growled, but Tali noted the shock in her voice, "Its that damn geth super-dreadnought! It seems to be transmitting a signal to the geth fleet that's giving them enhanced code...it makes them more intelligent, helps them think faster and...keelah...they're...they're..." she cut her surprise off, but Tali took note that Xen had sounded more than just shocked by whatever she saw, "Whatever it is, its what's giving the geth their edge! Judging by the code and what we've seen, its save to assume that the code...the code is Reaper!"

Her eyes widened, and her posture slackening from the words leaving her mouth.  _It all makes sense now._ Her ship shook again from an impact, Igra stopping her from falling as a second hit, then a third, and fourth, and then it stopped. They were clearly being pursued. She should have known the Reapers would take advantage of a situation like this. The Reapers must have indoctrinated the geth and influenced them to destroy the quarians while they dealt with the rest of the galaxy. The perfect strategy; both would weaken themselves in war, and when it was over, the Reapers could move in and finish the job.  _They're...they're toying with us! Using the geth as a means to an end!_

"Admirals, we cannot hope to win this battle! The geth are simply too powerful!" Tali declared, gulping as she considered the ramifications of what she was considering. But it had to be done; if the quarian people wanted to survive, they needed to call for help, "I recommend boarding the Depaxia, all four of you, and heading to the Far Rim Cluster. From there, you must send a distress call to the Citadel. Tell them we are in major need of assistance!"

The Depaxia was the second in the quarians' line of stealth ships, used as envoy ship. And now it could be the only hope they had of escaping the system. And Shala had her son with her; getting him out of this battle would save her alot of heartache. Losing her mother was one thing...losing her own son was another.

"The Citadel? They won't help us! They will never help the Migrant Fleet! They never have, and they never will!" Gerrel barked, "Besides, they have the Reapers to worry about!"

"Nevermind the Citadel! Its who'll pick up the transmission that matters!" Tali insisted, "Shepard is out there, my husband...is out there. The Council knows how much he cares about our people...they'll pass the message down to him and he'll send help immediately! He can help us! He is our only hope!"

Gerrel was still skeptical, damn him, "One human won't get us out of this muck, not even Shepard! You need-"

"What we  _need_ is his help!" Tali snapped, feeling a growl building in her throat as she clenched her fists, ignoring the tremor of the ship as it weathered more bombardment, "That man could very well be our last hope! Do you want to see Rannoch again? Then get Marcus Shepard over to the Far Rim and explain our predicament! I..." she gulped, closing her eyes as she willed herself to say the next few words, "...will stay behind to command the fleet in your absence. I just hope you get back here in time."

"We're risking alot by doing this, Admiral," Koris replied, "I hope you're right about Shepard."

"Believe me, Admirals," she replied.  _I wish I could go with them; I want to see Marcus so badly it hurts. But right now, he needs them more than he needs me. And I can't let my love for him get in the way of my duty._ "He is the Avatar our people have been waiting for."

"We shall see," Gerrel replied, before his, Koris' and Xen's comm indicators winked out of existence. Soon, the Moreh, Neema, Qwib Qwib and Tonbay would dock with the Depaxia and leave for the Far Rim; leaving their fleet behind.

Shala remained, as per Tali's request, "Shala...please, take my son with you. I...I want him to be safe. And Marcus...he needs...he needs to be able to see his son. In case I...in case I don't..."

The admiral replied, cutting her off firmly, "I understand, Tali. Junior will be safe with me, and I shall make sure your husband knows he has a son who loves him...and a wife who loves him just as much. Keelah Se'lai, and ancestors be with you child." And with that, the Tonbay's indicator winked out. Tali was now left alone, solely just her, to lead 50,000 ships in a battle of survival against the geth.

She was afraid, terrified, and most of all enraptured in her duty. She missed Marcus so much, but her people needed her more. And she would never fail them. Never. She was the very definition of a patriot, and her devotion knew no bounds. At least her son would be safe.

She just hoped Marcus came quickly.

**"Our reunion was close, but not close enough, if you ask me. It felt like an eternity until I saw you again."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"How do you think I felt? But...what was it I said before? Reunion forged in fire. Pretty badass stuff, eh?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"You're so full of yourself, Mark."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"You love me for it, though."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Relevance..."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Of course. Its funny, because events beforehand sort've made it convenient for what happened next."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**One chapter left guys. The hype is real. The hype is VERY real.** _

_**Yes, I know Anderson's chapter was abit of an info dump, but I couldn't help it! I love establishing background story! And yes, I realize Tali's section was a bit rushed, but I honestly had no idea what to do with it, I just forced myself through it. I'll try to avoid that sort of laziness in further chapters.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	37. The Final Snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria formulates her strategy for retaking Omega. The Cerberus invasion makes Lia and Kolyat recontemplate their relationship. Garrus and Shepard have a competition. Shepard is contacted by the quarian admiralty.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:**

**THE FINAL SNIPPETS**

_July 3, 2186_

_1456 hours._

_Mercenary Temporary Headquarters, Lower Ward, Romulus Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Mercenary Leader Aria T'Loak, Lieutenant Bray, Admiral Jarral, Lieutenant Nakmor Dreg._

Her form leaned over the holographic display, eyes glazing over the information that flowed across the screen. And there was lots of that information, to be sure. Blueprints, army configuration, fleet dispositions, defenses, troop arrangements, key areas, etc. It all flowed across her tiny little screen, and she saw it all. Every tidbit. She needed to.

The MTH was more than a temporary headquarters; it was a base of operations; a staging platform. Every ally she ever had, every single person devoted to her and loyal to her, and even the ones who were infatuated with her (ones she tolerated alot less). She had a perfect force at her disposal, and now that it was nearing completion the time was near.

Soon, she would take back her station. Omega was  _hers._

She tried to ignore the pain in her gut. The skin there was still raw from the stun batton that had impacted it. Sure, the Cerberus fucktard that had done it was dead and tossed out an airlock, but the pain of the injury he inflicted was still felt. She would get the occassional jolt in her system as well; electricity left behind from the attack. It didn't happen with humans or anyone else, and she knew why; it was all due to the immense amount of eezo content in the asari body. Eezo attracted electricity and channelled it like water did, meaning that tazing any biotic could actually mean their death.

But Aria was a tough bitch, and she didn't let a damn stun batton kill her. Fuck that. Still, her injury did continue to hurt, and she didn't know when it would fully heal. If ever in her lifetime. Maybe it'd be a permanent scar, but as long as the pain dissipated, she would be happy.  _Can't fight if every time I use my biotics I electricute myself._

She looked up from her screen, examining the holographic form of Omega; it was shaped like a giant mushroom; a massive semi-spherical main body with a 'tail' poking out from below it at the base. The station had once been a mining facility before the krogan Patriarch took over as its leader, followed by Aria moving onto the station and subjugating the station, keeping Patriarch as her pet and example. She had ruled the station, the shithole that it was, for hundreds of years since then. It was her child, her prodigy, her  _home._

Cerberus,  _The Illusive Man,_ had taken it from her. A man by the name of Oleg Petrovsky, a clever cockhead if she had ever heard of one, was the Cerberus general now responsible for holding Omega hostage. He had an entire fleet at his back, and the station garrison was forty thousand strong, the last time she was there. Cerberus was likely to have dug in deep by now; afterall, it had been seven months since she had lost it. They would be heavily entrenched, her people totally under his control. But soon, that would end. She would  _take back_ Omega.

The Illusive Man was at the top of her shit list.

She met Jarral's eyes through the hologram, eyes weary and voice mildly angry. Spending all her time in that skanky Purgatory bar was nothing like Afterlife. That club had essence. Purgatory...it was a wannabe try-hard, nothing more. She hated the people, the music, the atmosphere. None of it was like Afterlife. She fucking  _hated it._

"Run the numbers through me again," Aria growled, cracking her neck as she did, straightening her jacket as she watched Bray shift beside her; the last man she had from Omega that was utterly devoted to her, the last having been Anto; a batarian, she would admit, she sorely missed, even if he had only ever been her bodyguard, "How many ships do we have loyal to us, currently?"

Jarral sighed, her mediocre asari admiral straightening her posture in a vaguely professional stance, although she imagined it was more for show than actual discipline. Asari lacked alot of that. Besides, if you wanted discipline, you went to the damn turians, "Forty at best; most of them are repurposed merchant vessels. Few defenses, not alot of space. Modular conveyors, Kowloon and Ganymede-Class, mostly. A few freighters, cargo haulers, tankers. One or two mercenary ships, but most of them belong to the lesser groups, like Fortitude and the Grim Skulls."

She sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes, "I do believe Shepard gave me the loyalty of every mercenary organization in existence. Care to explain why we don't have any Blue Suns? Eclipse? Blood Pack?"

Bray was quick to but in, "Zaeed Massani has been a hard man to deal with, Aria. Harder so with his commander on the Citadel, Renmark. She's been a thorn in our backside, and so far she's refused every attempt we've made at securing her allegiance. She says her forces are devoted to the UGC and only the UGC."

 _I'm beginning to hate the fucking UGC. Everything is about the fucking_ _ **UGC.**_ "Then Eclipse? Blood Pack? At least the Blood Pack. I own Gryll, you know that. That vorcha couldn't tell he was being used even if you told him so."

"As you said, Gryll is easily bought and controlled. But that works twofold," Dreg replied, his gravelly krogan tone comparable to chalk scraping against a chalkboard, "The UGC has him on a tight string as well, and that Admiral Hackett has kept him very busy. As for the Eclipse; Sayn seems to be utterly devoted to Shepard. Says he owes him for getting rid of Sederis. That, and there's the excuse that Eclipse has been kept quite busy recently; evacuating colonies, committing delaying actions, protecting cargo from pirates for C-Sec."

 _I'm beginning to wander whether getting rid of Sederis was a good idea. She may have been fucking psychotic, but a psycho is easy to control once you know their tendency and channel it. Sayn...you can't channel loyalty. Not unless you're a master manipulator, which I'm most definitely not._ No, Aria preferred to leave that to the Illusive Man.

"So it all comes down to the same thing," Aria mumbled, "Shepard, and the fucking UGC."

"It would appear to be so," Bray deadpanned, his four eyes frowning in what had to be a copy of her own anger, "They won't make a move unless it has his name written all over the paperwork. Still, I need those damn mercenary groups. I'm not making a move on Omega until we do."

Jarral shook her head, clearly in disagreement as she braced against the table, "We know Omega better than Petrovsky does; you've had centuries to get to know it. He's only had seven months. Nowhere near enough time to get to know it."

Aria sighed, turning towards her with a sarcastic expression, "Jarral, that's absolutely brilliant, why didn't I think of that before?" she pretended to think before turning back to her, growling dangerously at her fellow asari, "Oh, yet again, that was  _before_ half the fucking station became overrun by adjutants. That was  _before_ Cerberus had a fleet in orbit. That was fucking  _ **before**_ Petrovsky kicked me off the damn station!"

She seemed taken aback by the retort, but Aria honestly couldn't care less. If the moron wanted to play tactically-brilliant-admiral, then let her. But there was no mistaking Petrovsky's ability; the man was a brilliant strategist. The man played war like it was a game of chess; even had his own chessboard. And he always won. He was swift, ruthless, pragmatic, and was a strong student of the Sun Tzu philosophies of warfare. But he wasn't an asshole; even being Cerberus, he refused to risk civilian lives, even going so far as to kill his own second-in-command just to protect the station's residents. He was a good man, but she didn't fucking care; he had her station, and for that, she would  _fucking kill him._ She didn't have the time for moral-high-horses anyway. Assholes think they're so fucking superior.

_Petrovsky and Shepard would get on just fine, I bet._

She closed her eyes, clearing her thoughts. She couldn't afford to think like that. Blind rage had gotten her nowhere during the Cerberus attack on her station, and because of it, she had lost her space station to them. And now taking it back would be one of the hardest fights of her life, but when it came to Omega, it was completely worth it. She couldn't wait to watch the Cerberus troops flee in terror as her armies flooded over the station, taking it back, piece by piece. She turned to Dreg, head of her ground divisions, "How about troop numbers? What do we have?"

Nakmor Dreg was a typical krogan; violent, prone to anger, but measured and calculating. He wasn't the kind of guy you pissed off in a hurry, but when he wasn't in a blood rage or angry, he could be pretty damn smart; smarter than Jarral at least, although that wasn't hard. Jarral had the naval experience of a damn alliance cadet in the academy. Dreg however, was far from mediocre. He was a relic; a very old relic, and probably one of the oldest krogan she had ever known; possibly the oldest in existence. He had fought in the final days of the Krogan Rebellions, and remembered the war well. But now his people was cured of the genophage; she had heard the news about it; entirely unsurprised that Shepard had been behind it. Dreg had returned to her a new man, especially for a one thousand, two hundred and eighty-five year old krogan. Dreg was convinced he would die soon, but he seemed to cheat death everyday.

The krogan grumbled, shifting in his ceremonial battle armor. She always snorted at the sight of it; she always forgot how sentimental he was for a krogan. His battle armor was old and frayed and one thousand years out of date. It had obselete kinetic barrier generators that were of krogan make, and the armor itself was a mixture of red and white. On each shoulderplate was a red circle with a three-fingered hand grasping a huge hammer in its grasp, words encircling its edge in ancient krogan writing; the insignia of the Aralakh Empire, all that was left of the once proud, powerful and fearsome imperium. The armor was heavy; state-of-the-art, for the time period it originated from. He had a large war hammer strapped to his back, a stark reminder that Dreg had once been a krogan Battelord; an extremely powerful position for krogan; a rank now non-existent.

"Without the mercenaries, our ground troops are minimal," he stated, shaking his head, "I can muster what I can from my men on Tuchanka and the Citadel, but aside from that, we have a mere handful of troops. Barely enough to hold a garrison; let alone take back an entire space station."

She felt herself gritting her teeth, angered by the sheer insanity of her situation.  _I promised to bring back an armada. I swore to Petrovsky that the armies and fleets of the Terminus would bear down over Omega and clutter every airlock and every room. He would tremble as our marching shook the floors of the station, and sent his troops fleeing. Instead, I'm going to bring a few pathetic conveyors, some converted tugs, and a few squads of poorly-equipped mercenaries who's only advantages are their loyalty to me and Dreg's command ability and war experience. Petrovsky will laugh as his fleet blows mine out of asteroid field._

"Aria," Bray spoke, gaining her attention. He seemed to be hesitant, as if treading carefully. Then he stopped, looking at her, and she understood. He was waiting for her permission; he rarely waited for her sanction to speak unless it was an opinion in conflict with hers; otherwise, he'd openly agree with her.

"Speak your mind, Bray," she spat, slamming her fist into the holo table, "Tell me just how fucked our possibilities of success are."

"Fucked. Completely. This is a suicide mission. Pure insanity," the batarian stated clearly, shaking his head as he gulped, "Wars have been won against terrible odds, but this is just ridiculous. We're talking about attacking a titan with a go-cart and a group of inexperienced children with the bare minimum of knowledge on how to fire a gun. There is simply no way we can win this."

"Then what do you suggest?" Aria snapped, already feeling as if she wouldn't like his answer.

"That we postpone the invasion," Bray bluntly declared, shifting slightly as he noticed her frown deepen, "Consolidate our forces more strongly. Gather allies. Maybe give Renmark a little push. Make Massani an offer. Try to milk Sayn for some troops, and possibly brainwash Gryll alittle over to our side; buying him shouldn't be too hard, and as a vorcha, he's prone to any trap we put up. That, or we could have him replaced like we did the krogan."

Dreg sighed, nodding, "The batarian speaks wisdom. Even during the Rebellions, Warlord Shiagur knew when to disengage and when to tactically withdraw. She knew which battles to fight, and which were hopeless. Of course, she mostly simplified that with asteroid strikes, but we don't have asteroids, and I'm not sure you're willing to use them on Omega, even if we did. Warlords Moro, Kredak, Jarrod...they all knew when to retreat. Today is one of those days. We need more time."

"The time for a strike is  _now_ ," Jarral insisted, groaning as she turned towards Dreg, "We cannot wait while Cerberus further solidify their position! We need to strike hard and fas-"

"Whelp, I've been fighting in warfare since before your pathetic form drew breath," Dreg growled, "I have fought the cohorts of the turians, the commandos of the asari, and even the assassins of the salarian League of One; the predecessors of the STG. I've fought fleets, dropped asteroids on worlds, and claimed the skulls of a dozen thresher maws," he was right in Jarral's face, breathing heavily, which caused her to reel back in terror, "Do not question my experience."

"Jarral, you are dismissed," Aria ordered, waving a dismissive hand, "I have had enough of your incompetent, ass-kissing, incapable leadership."

She tried to form words on her mouth, but Aria did not give her a chance, shooting her the deadliest glare in Council space, "Keep this going, and I'll relieve you as admiral, as well."

Jarral, flustered and unable to defy her mistress, simply spun on her heel and left the room, door sliding shut behind her. Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily, shaking her head, "You would all have me abandon my quest to take back my station; one that is  _rightfully_ mine, not that usurper's."

Dreg shook his head, bracing against the table, his sneer gone, "We are not asking you to abandon Omega altogether, Miss T'Loak. Only that you take more time to strengthen your forces...consolidate them."

"And what of the Reapers?" Aria spoke out, not even thinking about what she said as she addressed everyone in the room, "What if there is nothing left to consolidate? What if the Reapers take Omega before I do? Or the Citadel? What if there isn't any  _time_? I need Omega  _now._ Sooner, rather than  _later_."

"It can't be done," Bray stated firmly, turning until he faced her, all four eyes focused on her own, "Not with what we have."

"Unless you've got someone capable of doing the impossible, then we're empty-handed," Dreg acknowledged in tandem, "No organized force equals us dead and Omega still in Cerberus hands. It'll be no good if we all die during an initial assault."

Dreg's first sentence echoed in her mind.  _"Unless you've got someone capable of doing the impossible...capable of_ _ **doing**_ _the_ _ **impossible**_ _..._ A malicious smirk crossed her lips, and she couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. The answer was so simple, yet she had never even considered it. Why would she? That man didn't like her, she knew that much. She was a rotten bitch queen; but a badass one. If anything, she was an asset to him, not a friend. But had she ever thought of bribing him into helping her? That the man himself, all morals and impossible deeds, could be her secret weapon?

"I fail to find what is amusing," Dreg growled, clearly insulted by Aria's lack of seriousness.

She turned to him, her smug smirk still present, "It just occurred to me that I do indeed have someone capable of doing the impossible. Someone who may owe me a favour. He wants me to be fully devoted to his cause, but in order for that, he needs to take back Omega for me," she turned to Bray, "You know who I'm talking about. He's cheated death, and he just cured the genophage. Who's more perfect for the job?"

"Captain Shepard would never help us," Bray replied incredulously.

"You don't know that. That man needs assets. Ships, troops, supplies, all for his war," the asari stated firmly, straightening her jacket again as she began to circle the table, "I can give him that, but only if he cooperates with me. I'll give him all of that, if he leads my force in taking back Omega."

Dreg wasn't pleased by that notion, "I'm not going to let some  _human_ of all things take command over my forces. I have the most experience here."

Dreg was a bit cocky, but yet again, so was Aria. She had just learnt that she wasn't invulnerable. Petrovsky had taught her that lesson well. She shot him a look; it wasn't a glare or a stare of shock, just a blank look, followed by a quirked eyebrow, "Pray tell me Dreg, have you heard of Shepard and his deeds? Or must I list them all? The man is a legend. I'm not one for idol worship, and I most certainly won't fucking worship him, but the facts are there.  _He_ won the Eden Prime War.  _He_ wiped out the Collectors.  _He_ took down the Shadow Broker. And now  _he_ fought off a Cerberus invasion of the Citadel. Dreg, I'm not taking command from you, I'm merely going to let Shepard share it with you."

_Still, there is the problem of him and the Normandy. I don't like his squad either; the turian, that Cerberus bitch, and the quarian? And that asari justicar? No, they'll have to stay behind. I want Shepard and only Shepard. I don't need his squad or his ship, I only need_ _**him.** _

Dreg grumbled; he wasn't satisfied with the answer, but he wasn't disappointed either. It was just vague enough to keep him quiet, but she could tell by his look that he wasn't happy. She shook her head, turning to Bray, "I want you to get in contact with Shepard. Send him a message; Hackett provided me with his channel code incase contact was needed."

Bray gave a solemn nod, bringing up his omni-tool as he typed a message and sent it. Thanks to the wonders of galaxy-wide comm buoys, communication was instantaneous. So as fast as Bray sent the message, he got a reply. Still, she had a feeling it wasn't one she would like; the batarian was frowning.

"What is it?" Aria asked, growling, clenching her fists, "Did he say no?"  _You owe me Shepard. I_ _ **need**_ _you to lead that force._

"The ship's AI simply said he was busy intercepting a distress call from a quarian envoy vessel and wasn't available," Bray stated, turning back to her as he deactivated his omni-tool, "Said it was urgent. A matter of 'significant importance.' Said he likely wouldn't be available for the majority of the day."

Aria sighed, shaking her head.  _You can't run away forever, Shepard. One day, you'll come back to the Citadel, and I will_ _ **force**_ _you to lead my fleet._ She nodded to him, "Very well; we'll do it your way then, Dreg," she shot the krogan a look, "Until Shepard is made available, we'll consolidate our forces. Besides, if we're lucky, Shepard will provide us with more resources from the UGC, depending on how dedicated he will be to this."

"A wise decision," Dreg conceded, running a hand along his battle-scarred crest, "That should give us some time to organize our troops and ships while you...wait for Shepard to arrive."

She nodded, moving towards the door, "Very well, all of you are dismissed until further notice. You know where to find me." She didn't even wait for an answer as she moved through the door and down the corridor towards the stairs, door shutting behind her. She felt a new sense of smug confidence grow in her gut, a feeling better than any ecstasy or red sand drug. It fueled her with further desire; a desire to kill, to maim, to destroy. She had a promise to keep to Petrovsky, and she would fullfill it.

The collective might of the Terminus Systems would bear down on and retake Omega. That was a  _promise._

**{Loading...}**

_June 28, 2186_

_1205 hours._

_Apartment 221, Housing District, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_C-Sec Investigator Kolyat Krios, Nurse Lia'Vael nar Ulnay._

Their apartment wasn't really anything special, per se. A matter of fact, it was quite sparse; not spartan by any stretch of the imagination, but quite the utilitarianistic hideaway. That was mostly thanks to Lia, though, being the selfless person that she was, but for the most part, he didn't really disagree with it. They didn't need anything special; just somewhere to live. That was it.

As was the norm with Citadel apartments, they were quite small; no bigger than the standard room with a few luxurious polishes and a few cubicles added on. A modest couch sat in the middle, with a large flatscreen on the wall. A basic toilet and shower occupied one cubicle, another the bedroom with a narrow bed, although Lia mostly slept on the couch anyway, so it didn't really matter. There was a basic kitchen at the back where the main door was, and a few terminals in one room. Overall, like he said, not spartan, but very utilitarian.

He sighed as he unstrapped his carnifex heavy pistol, dumping it on the table beside the door, followed by his kinetic barrier generator and the magnetic clamp for his gun. He removed his coat and hung it on the rack beside it and covered up a yawn; one followed by a light cough; a side effect of his Kepral's Syndrome. It was nowhere near as bad as his father's; wouldn't be for at least another decade. But it was there; a constant reminder that he would never fullfill his full lifespan. Made him wish he had been born in an arid climate so his lungs would have developed properly. But he played the cards he was dealt.

The vidscreen was on, an episode of the popular turian show called 'Shatha Hunters' was playing; a repeat, given that the area it was filmed in was currently under Reaper attack: Taetrus. He could see Lia sitting on the couch, hands folded in her lap as she watched it, and he smiled, cracking his neck. He did the same with his knuckles, feeling a day's worth of work dissipate from his body like the flow of water. It was relaxing.

Then his eyes landed on the picture on the table, and his smile dropped.

It was taken on Earth. There was Thane, his father, smiling up at the camera with one arm hooked around Kolyat's shoulders, pulling him close as the drell smiled back.

The wounds were still fresh, and he had to tear his eyes away from the picture to regain his composure. Almost a week had passed since his father's death during the Citadel Siege, and he was still having problems sleeping. Lia knew he was in pain, but she never brought it up, afraid that he would become upset, whether at himself, or at her, he didn't know, but he did know those were the reasons. She had said so.

He had promised not to let Thane's death drag him down, but everytime he saw a picture of him, he either got sad, angry or blank. It was a confusing range of emotions; quite random to the odd bystander, but to anyone who knew Kolyat, they'd understand. They knew what he was going through, but all they could offer was words of reassurance; that it would all get better. Kolyat knew they were lying through their teeth, and had since stopped seeing psychologists. They were no help at all.

He put thoughts of his father on the backburner as he moved over to the sofa, using his natural drell skills of stealth to sneak up on his unionmate. He was still ecstatic at it all; he had asked her to become his  _sihaa,_ and she had agreed! She wanted to be his wife! They were going to get married! The excitement of it all, the sheer shock, almost sent him over the edge, the drell totally unable to comprehend that the day had come. He had imagined himself settling down with a drell girl. Never did he imagine he would find peace in the arms of a quarian. But Lia...she was special. He knew that the moment he had first met her.

His hands shot down, grabbing onto the quarian's shoulders. She yelped in surprise, losing control of her omni-tool as the vidscreen suddenly flicked through a dozen channels at once before she finally gained control of it and switched the screen off. Kolyat, meanwhile, could only chuckle in his raspy, croaky tones, unable to contain himself.

Lia twisted on the couch to face him, eyes narrowed as she held a hand over her chest, trying to calm her breathing, "Y-you-you bosh'tet! You nearly gave me a-a-a-"

"A heart...attack?" he managed through his laughter, beginning to calm himself. Lia's reaction had been priceless.

"That!" she replied, shaking her head as she crossed her arms, "And you think it was funny! It most certainly wasn't!"

"Not even alittle?" he asked, able to stand as he moved to join her on the couch. He plopped down into it, letting himself sink into its confines, "Not even an iota?"

She huffed, shaking her head, "Not even an iota. You're such a bosh'tet, Kolyat. You shouldn't...scare me like that."

"I don't know," he pondered, grinning as he turned to face her, "I thought your reaction was pretty cute."

Even with her mask on, Kolyat was adept at being able to read body language. It was a valuable trait his father had taught him. It was the reason he was able to tell she was blushing behind that mask.  _Sometimes I wander what she looks like..._ he abandoned that selfish thought as soon as it entered his mind.

"I-I am  _not_ cute," she insisted, sinking back further, refusing to look at him, remaining utterly stubborn, "And flattering me won't save you."

"Oh yes you are," he replied, grin lessening, "You are beautiful,  _siha._  You are wonderful, lovable, and you are mine. And so what if you're cute? You only have to be cute for me, Lia," he grinned, leaning closer with a bare whisper, "It'll be our little secret, I promise."

He noticed Lia relent, her posture slackening alittle. She turned her head slightly to face him, the glowing beacons she had for eyes shifting to face him. Finally, her arms fell limp, a loud sigh escaping her vocalizer, "Fine, Kolyat. You're forgiven, if only for your flattery."

He chuckled, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on her hood, before pulling back, "My flattery, above all else, is my greatest weapon, Miss Vael," his grin lessened again, but then grew anew as he nudged her, "But it could be Mrs Krios, soon."

The quarian snorted, shaking her head, "Always thinking of the future, aren't we? Keelah, you're like my father. Always talking about tomorrow, of taking the homeworld back."

His grin totally died at this point, the mere mention of Lia's father enough to turn his thoughts back to Thane. Who was dead. At Cerberus' hands. He had attended his funeral many days ago, and watched as his ashes was spread across the Enkindler's Expanse; the deepest ocean and the most vast on all of Kahje. They had only managed to do so when the Reapers lifted their siege in response to an allied fleet presence in the area. It had been a good thing to do it when they did too; the Reapers had attacked a day later, beginning the siege anew.

Lia noticed his sudden shift in mood, and was immediately able to discover what it was. She reached out, grabbing his hands sympathetically, squeezing them affectionately, "Keelah, I didn't think, Kolyat. I'm so sorry. I know how hard this must be-"

He sunk back, an arm open and inviting her to cuddle up to him. She did just that, forgetting her bluster as she rested her head on his shoulder, pressing up tight against him. There was silence for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, but they knew the topic that needed to be addressed.

Finally, Kolyat broke the silence, clearing his throat, "Its not your fault, Lia. I'm just...I'm finding it very hard to move on. To leave my father behind. I know I need to move on, but its been harder than I thought it would be. I knew he'd always be with me, but I never thought it would be like this..."

She shifted her head to look up at him, one free hand holding onto his shirt, "Moving on was never going to be easy, Kolyat. You can't just blink and forget your father died; he died, and you have to accept that. I know deep down you loved him, but you can't let him hold you down. He'd want you to have a life; not dwell on the passing of his."

He sighed, rubbing his temples, "But how, Lia? Everywhere I go, I see him. Everywhere I go, I hear him. Everywhere I go, he's there waiting, haunting me. Like a failure of mine. And I know it wasn't my fault he died, there was nothing I could have done, but why is he always there? Why can't I seem to let go?"

She stayed quiet, unsure on how to respond. It was slow, difficult. She really had to think about it, and all the while, her mate was hurting; his thoughts trapped on his deceased father, unable to take his thoughts elsewhere. It hurt her that he was in that state, that he could find no escape from it. And she was just sitting here, saying nothing.

In the end, she realized, there really was no proper way to answer that question. What would she say? The same thing his psychologists droned to him on a daily basis? That he needed to move on? That was all well and good, but how would he do that? How do you make someone move on from the death of someone they had only just reconnected with, who they loved more than they cared to admit?

By taking their thoughts elsewhere. Sometimes, to make one forget the death of one loved one, you had to make them focus on the present. On the loved ones still there, still with them. Both of Kolyat's parents were dead now, and she doubted the hanar saw him being anything else other than an assassin ready for training. So that left her. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, soon to be Lia'Krios nar Ulnay, his quarian girlfriend. His lover.

And she knew the perfect way to distract him, but just the thought of it made her shiver; with an iota of excitement, but much more nervousness. Lia was a pilgrim, which meant she hadn't had much sexual experience in the past. Quarians weren't like other species; they couldn't enjoy the pleasures other species enjoyed such as what they called 'quickies' or 'one night stands.' Sexual intercourse for quarians took preparation, sterilization and a clean room. But there was cases of quarians making love out of clean rooms; it took alot of antibiotics and herbal supplements, but it worked.

And right now, she had enough antibiotics and herbal supplements in her pocket to last a whole night.

She didn't know whether to tell him. She had had them for a while, waiting for the perfect moment to use them. A long day and when they were relaxing in bed? After a luxurious date? Maybe after work? She had never found the courage however; she was too nervous, too scared of what the outcome would be. And as much as the prospect of sex intrigued the quarian, she didn't have the bravery to actually do anything about her urges. And now just seemed like the perfect time.

She knew Kolyat wanted to see her face; he was her boyfriend. Even if her boyfriend had been another quarian, the reaction probably would have been the same. It was natural for him to want to see her under the mask, and she wanted to; she trusted him that much. He had protected her from street thugs with his father's skills; kept her safe and even had to abuse his C-Sec authority once or twice.

And now he needed her. He might know it, but he needed her, now more than ever, and she knew just how to distract him. And despite her fear, she knew she had to fight through it to save him from the torment of melancholy. It would only serve to continue to tear him apart. And she loved him too much to see him do that to herself.

So, with some subtlety, she brought up her omni-tool, accessing her suit's systems and injected the antibiotics into her body, as well as her herbal supplements; she would be safe for the whole night. She'd get very sick, but nothing catastrophic or life threatening. But for Kolyat...she remembered Tali'Zorah-no, Tali' _Shepard,_ using a certain sentence on the Normandy in regards to Shepard.

_It would be totally worth it._

She shifted, three-fingered hand drifting up to his chin and turning him to face her as she sat up fully, facing him with a serious expression. He frowned, surprised by her sudden movement, but shut up when a gloved finger landed on his lips.

"Sssshhhh..." she whispered, letting her finger fall from his lips when she realized he wasn't talking anymore. She noticed him gulp, his adam's apple ever so slightly giving away the movement. She gulped herself, taking a deep breath as she continued, trying to ignore her flustered attitude, "Kolyat, you...you know I love you, right?"

He looked confused for a moment, but slowly nodded, "Of course, Lia. As I love you."

She felt her face heat up as she grabbed his hands, "And you...you w-w-want to se-see my...my face, don't you?"

This time she noticed Kolyat shift slightly, looking completely taken aback by the question, "I...you know I do. Lia, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

She smiled behind her mask, but he wouldn't be able to see it.  _That'll soon change._ Even in the moment, he was concerned about her, but his words were enough to prove what she already knew in her heart: Kolyat wanted to see her face, and he loved her. What more reason did she need?

"You..." she began, but stopped herself, trying to think of a better way to start. It didn't take her long to find it, the quarian shifting ever so slightly closer to him, moving until their legs were touching, "...Kolyat, forget about tonight. Don't worry about anything else. Just concentrate on me. Tonight," she reached her hands up to the clasps holding her mask in place, her hands shaking, but she willed them on. She noticed Kolyat's eyes widen, but it was too late for him to stop her, "...you are  _mine_."

There was a hiss of locks being released, and Kolyat could only watch as she slowly pulled her mask away, laying it gentlely on her lap. She looked up, meeting his eyes, a bluish tinge to her cheeks as she watched on in embarassment.

She saw him studying her; her face, her eyes, her...hair. Quarians, like humans, had hair, but only two types of hair existed for them; silvery and black. Hers was silvery, a lighter shade of it than some females of her race, but she liked to think it was attractive. She rarely cut it, so it was very long; last she checked before leaving the Fleet, it reached down to her chest. She had smooth cheeks like most quarians, with pale grey skin due to living in suits, and piercing, glowing eyes. She had a small nose and plump lips, along with what humans called 'elf-like' ears, whatever that meant.

His hesitation made her think he found her unattractive, but in that one moment before she could even move for her mask, his hand reached up and cupped her cheek, his cool, scaly skin brushing against her delicate grey skin and she had to close her eyes and moan in response to the touch.  _Keelah...his hand...his warmth, I...oh keelah, its wonderful..._

"Lia, I...I don't know what to say," he spoke up, tripping over his own words as he examined the girl before him; no, the  _woman,_ before him. Yes, she was definitely a woman, "You're beautiful,  _siha._  Just as I knew you would be."

She grinned, reaching up and pulling down her hood, allowing her silver hair to fall out onto her shoulders, humming in delight as cold air rushed against her cheeks and assaulted her senses all at once; smell, touch, sight...they were all experiences she had felt in the suit, but never on this scale. It was overwhelming. Pure bliss.  _Euphoria._

Instantly, Kolyat twisted forward and his hand left her cheek, instead stroking her head as she felt his fingers glide through her silky hair. The sensations running through her head were sending her crazy, but she could only close her eyes and hum, cooing in delight.

But then the hand was gone. The sensations stopped, and only air tickled her skin. She frowned, opening her eyes to meet Kolyat's, which were suddenly filled with concern.

"Are you sure about this?" He blurted out, still frowning, "I mean...you could get sick...doing this was extremely risky, Lia. I can't believe you woul-"

Again, a finger landed on his lips, silencing him as she glared at him, "Do you think I am a fool, Kolyat? I took precautions; my body is swimming with antibiotics and herbal supplements. I will get sick, but I won't die. Please Kolyat, do not focus on such things," she reached up, her hands cradling his face as she leaned in, leaning her forehead against his. She wanted to moan at the feeling, her body still getting used to it, but managed to contain it for his sake, "Just...let me enjoy this. Let  _us_ enjoy this. Focus on nothing but me."

He nodded, sighing, "I'm sorry, I'm just-"

"-concerned?" she replied, nodding, biting the bottom of her lip in anticipation, "I know, and so was I. But now I don't care. You're worth it, Kolyat."

He went silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. But then he realized only one thing; he wanted to know what she tasted like. He breathed, meeting her eyes as he gulped, "Do...do you mind if I...can I kiss you?"

She giggled despite herself, shaking her head as she stroked his cheek, "I have my mask off, and you're asking to kiss me? Kolyat, what did I say about focusing on me tonight?"

"I-" Kolyat began, but she never gave him the chance.

Rolling her eyes, she then closed them and slowly moved in, feeling her lips brush against his. It was velvety; a soft, but rough feeling. They continued to brush lips, their eyes closed as their mouths hung open nervously, taunting the other into action.

Kolyat must have lost patience because the second before he lunged forward, his hand gentlely cradled her cheek and pulled her in. His green lips crashed against hers, locking together in perfect harmony with his large lips encompassing hers. She moaned softly into the kiss, feeling his scent fill her nostrils, as hers filled his. He moaned in response, enjoying the tender locking of mouths.

Their heads cocked to give each other room, lips never parting as their kiss intensified; it had started as a gentle, tender feeling, full of love, but it eventually began to increase in vervor, becoming more heated, passionate, lustful. Lia was lost in a whole new world of pleasure and sensation, and Kolyat was sharing his first kiss, as she was. It was perfect.

She barely noticed as he lifted her up and pulled her into his lap, her legs straddling him as her hands latched onto his shoulders subconsciously, holding onto them tightly. She pushed her face more intensely into his, refusing to part from him. The taste of him, the smell, the feeling...it was absolute  _heaven._ The ancestors had surely blessed her.

After a few minutes, they finally parted, both of them breathing heavily as they desperately tried to suck in breath. But they both had lopsided grins on their faces, absolutely content with each other. For both of them, it had been their first kiss, but both of them felt differently about it.

" _Amishu dalara ka'lata peshta,_  Lia," Kolyat exclaimed, chest rising and falling in long bursts, "You're...amazing."

She grinned back, curling a strand of silver hair behind one ear as she continued to hold onto his shoulders, "So...so are you. I..."  _Want more. I want so much more. I want to feel you against me; your lips, your skin, your...your..._

_I want you inside me, Kolyat. I want to make love to you._

Those thoughts perturbed her, but she couldn't deny their truth. She felt truly ready to share herself with him.

"Kolyat," she gulped, giving him a quick peck on the lips as she leaned her forehead back against his, "I...help me out of my suit. I'm yours tonight, and you are mine. Just focus on me. Just focus on me."

"With pleasure," he grinned, but looked slightly confused when he just stared blankly at her suit. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked back up at her, looking bashful, "Uh...where do I start?"

She smiled, and despite how nervous she was, she was able to respond fluently, "The man seals are on my back. Start there. I want to be free tonight. With you," she whispered in his ear, "Focus on me. Just focus on me..."

And he did. Oh keelah, he did. For the rest of the night, only the sounds of two lovers joined together, their moans carrying through the night.

It was one passionate moment in the middle of a galaxy on fire.

**{Loading...}**

_June 29, 2186_

_1408 hours._

_Parking Lot, Docking Bay D24, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

Even as he approached, his turian comrade was already lifting himself into a standing position, uncrossing his arms. The damn turian was  _still_ wearing his combat armor; something Garrus seemed insistent on never taking off unless it was an important, formal occassion. The turian nodded to him as Marcus made his final approach, nodding to the C-Sec officer in charge of the security checkpoint as he went past.

"Marcus, glad you could make it," he greeted, a long grin creasing his mandibles. It was then that Marcus noticed the two sniper rifles standing up against the skycar nearby; one being Garrus' Reaper sniper rifle, one he had had since the days of the Eden Prime War, and the other being a standard issue Mantis sniper rifle.

Marcus didn't like the look of the turian's smirk, but he chose to play along, crossing his arms across his chest as he narrowed his eyes, "Garrus, just what is this meeting about? I get the feeling you didn't invite me up here just to admire your... _avid_  collection of sniper rifles."

Garrus chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his own arms, leaning back against his skycar as his grin grew; as if that were even dimensionally possible. He jabbed a thumb at the rifles, a low chuckle escaping his mandibles, "Oh no. These are for what we're going to do. A little  _challenge_. I thought we'd do something that didn't involve fighting Reapers or Cerberus," he reached down and picked up his rifle, grinning like a lovestruck child as he let the weapon collapse onto his back, "Instead of the bar, I wanted it to be something I'd remember."

He frowned, still eying the turian cautiously, "So?"

"So..." he trailed off, turning to pick up the Mantis and quickly threw it towards the spectre. He grabbed it out of the air, taken aback by the sudden attack. He grabbed it easily enough however, snatching it from the air with professionalism as he held it in a lower parry. Sniper rifles were something Marcus had never really specialized in; he preferred getting up close and personal with the enemy, whereas sniper rifles required him to sit on his ass and wait for the enemy to come into range so he could shoot them. As such, he wasn't very experienced. Sure, in N7, all recruits specialized in all weapons, and so had he. But he hadn't used a sniper rifle since then; the only exception being Jenkins' Punisher three years ago.

The turian just continued up to his skycar, keying his omni-tool to open the door. Splitting open with a welcoming hiss, his turian brother turned to him, still grinning, motioning towards the motionless vehicle, "Get in, Marcus. Time to do something we're going to remember."

He sighed, shaking his head as a ghost of a smile formed on his own lips. He had to admit, there was a tinge of amusement to be found in Garrus' vagueness. It also peaked his curiosity enough for him to follow the turian into the vehicle, Garrus taking the driver's seat; which he swore was another jab at Marcus' poor driving skills. He had to roll his eyes at that.  _If they knew how hard that piece of shit was to drive, they'd be more sympathetic._ Maybe someday he would; they did have one now, afterall.  _And I'm jumping for joy. Truly._

The skycar gave a loud thrum as its engine core spun up, building up enough energy for it to lift off, spin and shoot out into the Presidium traffic. They rapidly closed in on the lines of cars speeding by and joined them, ordinary skycar going unnoticed amongst the horde of vehicles of similiar types and weight. Noone knew of the occupants and who they were.

Marcus let the rifle stand up and held it between his thighs, drumming his fingers on the side of the door as he turned to Garrus with a raised eyebrow, still not quite knowing what they were up to. It involved sniper rifles, that much was obvious.

"So where exactly are we going?" he interrogated, propping his head up on his arm as he turned to face the turian fully.

"Somewhere we're not supposed to," he thrummed with amusement, the turian looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

Marcus couldn't help his loud chuckle, shaking his head, "Sounds like a recurring theme with us."

The turian nodded agreement, switching lanes as they continued past C-Sec headquarters, "Ever get that feeling where you wanted to do something but you never got the chance to?" he asked, and Marcus gave a nod, with a slight frown. The turian grinned, increasing their speed slightly, "I've had that feeling for awhile, and now I have a chance to amend that."

"You're being very vague, Garrus," he complained, trying not to sound whiny, "Honestly, what are we even doing?"

He nodded, but he didn't turn around, and his smirk dropped slightly, "I remember back in C-Sec that I'd look up at the Presidium sky bridges and wonder," he laughed, shaking his head, "I want to go up there. Unfortunately, there was too many C-Sec regulations telling me I couldn't. Safety laws, Anti-Suicide regulation, Counter-Terrorism protocols...today, I'm going to go up there."

Marcus smirked in response, nodding, "I don't see where sniper rifles factor into that, but okay then. I guess you got those C-Sec regulations changed?"

"Nope," the skycar began to ascend, heading towards one of the sky bridges connecting both sides of the Presidium, workers fixing bulkheads down below, "Now I just don't give a damn."

They came down right ontop of the bridge, skycar landing gentlely upon its prestine, sterile-white surface. Almost immediately, doors on both sides shot open, and Marcus took the preoffered rifle and stepped out into the Citadel's artificial sun, its non-existent UV rays beaming down on his skin and reflecting off the rifle in his grip. Garrus came out on the other side, wielding his much more modded Reaper rifle, grinning like a kid who just graduated as he moved towards the edge, motioning for Marcus to follow. He did so eagerly.

Normally, wind would be whipping at his face when he was this high in the air. But given that the Citadel was a space station, they couldn't really simulate believable air currents. So instead he moved through the air without resistance, joining Garrus at the side of the bridge, looking down at the 200 foot drop.

"Figured its time to do something stupid just for the hell of it," the turian squared his shoulders, looking down over the edge almost nervously before tearing his gaze away, "Might be the last chance we get. Still, its busier than I imagined. Funny how everything gets back to normal after just a week. You'd think we'd be down for a bit longer."

"The world just keeps spinning," Marcus quoted, then shook his head, "Galaxy. Whatever."

Trying to divert attention from his screw up, and whilst trying to find out Garrus' intentions, he motioned to the lake below, smirking, "Why don't we take a dunk in the lake?"

The turian seemed to visibly recoil at that, taking an anxious step backwards, "I'll a...I'll pass. Turians...we don't swim; mostly because Palaven doesn't have any large bodies of water we need to cross to reach another continent. Turian swimming isn't very elegant...involves alot of drowning and flailing arms."

He nodded, turning away as they moved away from the edge, more for Garrus' sake than his, "True; besides, I'd just have to jump in and save your ass, and I don't want to get my clothes wet. Take too long to get dry."

"It'd make up for all the times I pulled your ass out of the fire at least," he retorted, never missing a beat as he began to move towards his skycar, reaching inside to grab something, "The Citadel, Feros, Noveria, Virmire, Ilos...we've had a hell of a ride."

Marcus nodded solemnly, his grin gone as he leaned one hip, "Its times like these that you realize who your real friends are. The ones who stand by your side and fight through every battle, thicker and bloodier. They don't cower and run; they don't turn and run the other way when you need help. What you did for me at Project Base, what I did for you on Menae...I'd do that again, Garrus. No Shepard without Vakarian."

The only response he got was a chuckle, followed by a grunt. The turian appeared again, holding a crate of discarded bottles in his arms as he moved over to the spectre. Marcus frowned at the odd choice; all the bottles were empty, their labels torn off. What they were for, he didn't have a clue. Still, he found them quickly thrusted into his arms, the turian grinning, "You're not going to propose to me now, are you? I doubt Tali would appreciate that at all. Polygamy, and all that."

Marcus chuckled, and Garrus joined him. When they were done, the turian awkwardly cleared his throat, motioning to an area in the middle of the bridge, "Why don't you go place those over there."

"Sniper rifles and now bottles?" he raised an eyebrow again, "Is this in anyway questionable by your standards?"

"I've got something to settle with you, so yes," they moved over to designated area, Garrus' sniper rifle collapsing into his hands, "Once and for all. We're going to find out who's the best sniper."

"Picking on the rookies are we?" Marcus asked, retrieving his sniper rifle after placing down the crate, "How low of you, Vakarian."

"Don't play the oblivious victim," Garrus remarked, "You've got sniper rifle skills, you just don't use them."

"Yes," he dryly began, checking the scope of his own to find it was in tip-top shape, "Because I prefer not to hideaway from the enemy when I fight them."

"That was low, Marcus, even for you," he replied curtly, holding his rifle in one hand as he picked up a bottle, twisting it in his grip as he turned to Marcus, tossing it to him. Mimicking his stance, he reached out with one hand to grab it, frowning at it.

Garrus apparently picked up on his confusion, motioning to the traffic, "Real targets. Let's see who can hit the most bottles."

"I can see the headlines now," he remarked, rolling his eyes as he prepared to throw the bottle over the edge. His cybernetics flexed, ready to bring his strength into motion, "Garrus Vakarian, King of the Bottle Shooters. Mercy be upon those bottles who decide to revolt. They'd be overwhelmed by your heroism and sheer skill."

The turian didn't even reply this time, shouldering his rifle with a grumble, "Just throw the damn bottle,  _bosh'tet._ "

Marcus almost laughed at that particular snarky comment, shaking his head as he turned around and tossed the bottle, watching it acellerate to incredible speeds as it flew out into the traffic. A few seconds later, the boom of a sniper rifle echoed through the space followed by a loud cheer from the turian, "Score one!"

He rolled his eyes, moving over to pick up a bottle and toss it at the turian, who caught it just as effortlessly as he did. He turned around, shouldering his own rifle as he took deep breaths, trying to hone whatever skill he had with the bulky weapon into motion. He inhaled, and exhaled before nodding, "Throw the bottle."

His turian friend was quick to oblige, and Marcus moved his eyes to look down the scope, taking deep breaths to steady his aim. He watched the bottle enter his crosshair vision, tumbling and spinning through the air haphazardly with rapid abandon, and before he knew it, it began to descend. If he didn't act soon, it would disappear. His finger tightened, he tensed, and he pulled the trigger.

The bottle burst, and his shot echoed through the Presidium.

Grinning, he lowered his rifle, but barely got to turn around and open his mouth before Garrus spoke teasingly, "Not bad, but no points for easy shots. That was a practice shot. Trying to see how you were; you've done well enough...for a rookie."

"Whatever floats your boat Garrus," Marcus snarkily retorted, picking up a bottle as he flexed his cybernetics again. This time it would give the turian a real run for his money, "Ready for round two?"

Garrus steadied the rifle against his shoulder professionally, eyes already downrange, "I was ready ages ago. Are you done yapping?"

He simply shook his head, not bothering to reply as he dropped his rifle and turned, making a run up sprint before he hurled the bottle through the air as fast, and as hard, as he could. The bottle shot through the air at insane speed, travelling at least a full 29 meters almost instantly. The turian took his time, rifle scope no doubt closing in for the kill.

A bang, and the turian smugly lowered his rifle, barrel smoking, giving a mock salute in Marcus' direction as he moved to pick up a bottle, "Took it out at three hundred meters while descending fast. Try and beat that one, Marcus."

He examined the turian, watching as he braced to throw the bottle. They had been friends for three years, and through that, the turian, just like Tali, had been with him all the way through. When Liara couldn't, when Wrex couldn't, they were there, by his side. Without hesitation, Garrus had joined him, even if he had been working with Cerberus. It was that kind of friendship he treasured...that brotherhood.

Which was why he would miss this shot.

For Garrus. He would let the turian have his moment.

The turian threw the bottle and without even looking, Marcus fired, his shot just missing the tip of the bottle as it flung away to crash into the lake below, his shot likely pinging against some distant structure. Luckily, they were concussive rounds, so if anyone got hurt, they wouldn't be severely hurt. Marcus sighed, pretending to be irritated by the loss as his weapon fell limply at his side.

Garrus however just whistled, holstering his rifle as he cheered, turning to Marcus with an exceptionally large smirk, " _I_ am Garrus Vakarian," he held his hands out wide, walking up to the edge as he puffed his chest out, almost shouting, "And  _ **this**_ is now my favourite spot on the Citadel!"

"It was...ah...the traffic...it distracted me," he justified, rubbing the back of his neck as he handed his rifle back to Garrus, inwardly smirking.  _Smug bastard._

"I'm going to erect a monument here in my honor. The man who defeated the legendary Captain Shepard," the turian persisted, holstering the Mantis on his back as he retrieved the crate of bottles; which they had barely emptied before Marcus' demise. Together, they began to move back towards the skycar, hoping to make a quick escape before C-Sec turned up and demanded to know why they were shooting bottles ontop of a sky bridge.

"I say again, I feel sorry for those bottles," Marcus deadpanned, lowering his body as he sat down in the front seat, Garrus opening the back to place the bottles down, along with both of their rifles, "Any chance they have of rebellion is gone now."

"You're just a sore loser," the turian remarked in response, closing the back door before sitting down in the driver's seat, keying the engines, "Can't admit that Garrus Vakarian bested you at sniping."

"I'll admit," the spectre began in reply, "I was totally awestruck by your skill to blow bottles out of the sky. Some daredevil stuff; true bravery right there."

"Laugh it up Marcus," the turian retorted dryly, easing the skycar off the sky bridge roof and back down into the traffic below, "Still, I think I need a drink. Want to come with me to Purgatory? Get a couple of beers?"

"Damn it turian, you have no imagination," he spat playfully, opening the window to let the wind whip against his face; mostly simulated by the car's momentum, "Beers? I'd rather have whiskey."

"Is that a yes?" Garrus asked, raising an eyebrow, "Its been awhile since we actually got to sit down and just talk. You look like you could use it. Besides, Normandy gets cleared tomorrow, and I heard that Hackett wants us to run a patrol in the Kepler Verge Cluster; something about increased Cerberus activity."

"Why not," he shrugged, sighing, "Would be nice. You know, take my thoughts off the war for abit."

Little did Garrus know, but Marcus' thoughts were on Tali. With his next goal being to unite the quarians and the geth, he needed to go to Rannoch and communicate with Legion. But where was the Migrant Fleet? An entire month had gone by, and still no word from Tali or the Flotilla. It was starting to worry about him, and he worried about the true fate of his wife and her people.

His mission was to find her. He was going to find out where the Migrant Fleet was.

He just hoped he was ready to find a body. Because if he wasn't, he probably wouldn't be of any use to anyone.

Noone is when they're dead, right?

**{Loading...}**

_July 3, 2186_

_1544 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Karumto, Yakawa System, Caleston Rift Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor._

"6F to 7G," Samantha smugly ordered, sitting back as she crossed her arms, shifting to make herself more comfortable on the sofa. She gentlely reached forward and picked up her glass of water, taking a modest sip as she narrowed her eyes, watching Marcus' movement.

Which at the moment, was non-existent. He was hunched over the chess board, its blue glow illuminating his face and reflecting off his eyes as he scanned the board, tight-lipped. Samantha had just taken out his last bishop with a pawn of all things, which left his king totally in the open, and his queen the only one capable of protecting him. But it also meant he would have to sacrifice it, which meant losing his most valuable unit.

His hands were clasped tightly infront of him, calculating his next move carefully.

They had spent the past four days running a goose chase and cleanup operation much like what had happened during the month after the Battle of the Citadel; instead of cleaning up geth, they were harassing Cerberus operations in the sector, which weren't as subtle as they could have been. He was annoyed about the assignment, given that he had just spent the past two weeks changing history and saving the Citadel, and now him and his crew were demoted to simple cleanup duty.

Hackett had explained it had something to do with an ambush; apparently an Alliance Sixth Fleet light cruiser had gone missing in the area, the SSV Yellowstone, and the admiralty was convinced it was the Deliverance. Joker had a bone to pick with that ship, and Marcus couldn't really argue the point, as there was nothing to do at that present moment except wait for the quarians to pop up, so they had gone to the Kepler Verge cluster to investigate.

Turned out it wasn't the Deliverance, but it had been a Cerberus warship of some kind; its weight was that of a frigate, but it had firepower far beyond that. And they had practically chased them across the cluster, through the Phoenix Massing Nebula, and finally into the Caleston Rift Cluster, where the Normandy currently hung over Karumto. The Cerberus ship had disappeared and they had lost all track of it, but Marcus was convinced it would pop up eventually; so here they were. He had been bored and wanted to pass the time doing something, and he had made the mistake of challenging Samantha to a game of chess.

It was a mistake he would not repeat in the near future.

The chess board they used was holographic, with a deep, ocean blue color glowing around the board from its emitters. It also used voice recognition, hence why Samantha seemed to be giving it orders. Every time a piece was lost, instead of falling off the board, it simply winked out of existence and right now, Marcus' side of the board was looking awfully empty.

Samantha had wiped the floor with him; apparently his skill at poker didn't count towards chess. In just a few short minutes she had annihilated him, despite his military-like tactics. He had really underestimated Samantha, which was especially stupid, given she had told him she was quite an avid chess player and had even been part of multiple tournaments. Still, his overconfidence was his undoing.

"You can't think forever, Captain," Samantha taunted, legs crossed as she posed herself triumphantly, "Eventually, you have to make a move."

He shot her a glare, although it wasn't without mirth. He turned back to the board, considering his next move. He had no choice. Both his rooks were spread too far out to help and could only move straight, while the pawn was well out of their range. The pawn had taken out his last bishop, he only had three pawns left, and then there was just his king and queen. A queen he would now have to use to save his king.

He sighed, leaning back as he rubbing his face, not even looking as he spoke, "9H to 7G."

His queen shot forward, the pawn vaporizing upon contact as the queen came to rest on the spot it previously occupied. It saved his king...for now.

Samantha shook her head, leaning forward as she placed her glass back on the table top, raising an eyebrow at him, "That's quite the sacrifice, Shepard. But was it worth it?" She looked down to the board with a cheeky grin, "7A to 7G."

Her rook shot forward, and his queen disappeared in a flash of blue light as it was evicted from the board. He bit back his look of pain as he watched it go; his most valuable unit gone. His comms specialist could only giggle as she took another sip, reaching down and taking a bite out of her ration bar.

"That tactic would have worked in real life," he grumbled, eliciting another giggle from Samantha's side, followed by a rather loud sip. He sighed, looking down on the board again. Seeing the position her rook was in, he made his decision, and he moved his rook into position behind hers, cutting off its escape. She quickly ordered her rook to instead move up, so that it was in a perfect position to take out his king. His eyes widened. He couldn't go diagonally because her queen could deal with him, and he couldn't go forward because she had pawn ready to attack it.

"Checkmate," she declared, and the board automatically switched off, reducing it to a simple metal board ontop of the table. He cursed inwardly at his defeat, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he saw Samantha's own lopsided grin. Eventually, they both broke into quiet laughter, sighing at their own seriousness.

"I can't believe it," Samantha mused, retrieving her board as she stood up, finishing off her drink as she went, placing her ration bar wrapper in a pocket on her uniform and hooking the board under one arm, "I'll be able to tell the crew that I beat Captain Shepard at chess."

"Don't let it get to your head," he warned with a grin, shaking his head as he stood up with her, stretching all the muscles in his body, "I might surprise you."

Samantha snorted, shaking her head as she made towards the steps, "You need alot of training before you can even hope to surprise me," she was at the steps when she suddenly stopped, turning to face him with a much warmer smile, this one friendly rather than provocative, "But this was fun, Shepard. Not often that one's commanding officer plays chess with a subordinate."

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck, "It was nothing; besides, I'm not your typical CO. I'm very loose with the rules. You'd be surprised with how many fraternization protocols were broken on this ship in the past three years."

She raised an eyebrow at that, "Ah...are you making a move on me, captain? Because you know I'm only-"

"-not interested, Traynor," he stopped, surprised by her sudden defensiveness. That was out of nowhere.  _I didn't even_ _ **insinuate**_ _I was interested in her, and she just assumes that I'm trying to flirt? Seriously?_ "Happily married, I'll have you know. Besides, while you are my type, you're the wrong type of that type."  _You aren't quarian, for starters._

She frowned at that, looking slightly confused as she actually tried to think on that one. Finally, she just closed her eyes and shook her head, opening them to show her baffled expression, "That made no sense, but I'll go with it; thank you for clearing that up."

Before he could even formulate a response, the comm hummed, the holopad next to him coming to life as EDI's purple pawn appeared, "Shepard. I apologize for the interruption, but we have intercepted a tranmission that you would find of personal interest. I also believe it was flagged as urgent, and has a priority one signal attached to it."

He frowned, as did Samantha. That sounded serious.  _Who would be transmitting from all the way out here? Far too close to the Terminus Systems and Reaper territory to be safe._ He turned to her pedestal, crossing his arms as he leaned back on one hip, "Give it to me, EDI. What is it?"

"A distress call. And it is quarian in origin," EDI instantly replied, and he felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment and everything just froze, his eyes widening, "It is coming from a ship of cruiser weight whose IFF pings them as the QMFV Depaxia. They are transmitting from the Far Rim Cluster, however, it is odd. According to the message, they are running separate from the rest of the Fleet, yet it is carrying the entire Admiralty Board."

He raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her knowledge, "How did you know all that from a distress call?"

"Because it was explicitly stated in the distress," she emphasized, "It is not, however, stated why they are in distress, only that they are trying to contact the Citadel urgently stating that they are in need of 'help.' Again, what this is for is unknown."

"What other ships are in the area capable of responding to the distress call other than ours? Allied ships?" he asked. His mind had already been made up. If it was quarians, Tali was involved. And if she was involved, he would be there in an instant.  _To think...I could be with her again...after so long...seven months...what has she been up to? What have the quarians been up to all this time? Why haven't they helped in the war?_

"We are in the only ship close enough to respond in time," she stated clearly, "It is likely that any Cerberus or Reaper ships in the area will pick up the tranmission and trace it to its source, which makes waiting for a fleet impractical. The closest allied fleet movement is five hundred clusters away; an estimated time of arrival for them would be two days."

"That's too long," he replied, sighing, "What system?"

"The Dholen System, in orbit of Haestrom," she replied.

None of it made any sense. What was a quarian ship doing in geth space transmitting? They might as well be flaring their engines and blaring airhorns for all the attention it would draw. But what if it meant what he hoped it meant? What if it meant Tali had actually managed to talk the quarians and geth into peace talks, and he wouldn't need to bother uniting them?

If that was the case, where was the fleet, and why was there a lone ship calling for reinforcements? In geth space, no less? And if they had achieved peace, why hadn't they approached the UGC offering help? They were in the middle of a war; even the quarians would understand the necessity of unification, despite racial prejudice. No, something else was going on. And it had to do with the geth.

He just hoped it didn't mean what he thought it did.

"Set a course for Haestrom EDI, as fast as you can," he ordered, moving past Samantha towards the door, moving more purposely than he ever had before, "We need to get to the bottom of this. The quarians are calling for help for a reason, and we need to get there before whoever they're running from do."

He would able to see Tali again. She was close, he could feel it.

But she wasn't close enough. Only later would he realize that.

**"A reunion forged in fire. The fires of combat."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It seems that from our first meeting to both our reunions, I was always saving you. My damsel in distress."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"I am not a damsel. As for being in distress...I guess an exploding ship can count as distress."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"No shit."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Exploding ship? What?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"A tale of a suicidal and stupid rescue mission."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Well that's it. I've basically wrapped up everything up to this point except the Illusive Man, but I hope to worm in a scene with him next chapter, even if it will be largely quarian centric, and will set up the quarian-geth arc. Aside from that, its clear sailing. Next chapter is officially Tali/Shepard centric and will, largely, be an improved version of Priority: Perseus Veil.** _

_**Take note that after the quarian-geth arc is done, a large amount of the following chapters will be devoted to DLC. As I confirmed in this chapter, the Omega DLC will be the first order of business. After that, Leviathan and yes, the Citadel, will follow. I love the Citadel DLC, and its actually the part I'm looking forward to that part the most, and give me a chance to really experiment with Shepard's clone alot more.** _

_**I try to convince myself that we're nowhere near the end, but when you think about it, we sorta are. After this, there's only a few DLCs before we have Thessia, Horizon, Cerberus HQ and then the final battle. Of course, I'm going to spice it up with my own additions (so it might not be that syncronous and might be broken up), but for the most part, we're not that far from the end. Its nowhere near the end For A Better Tomorrow, but we're near the end of Holocaust, even if it feels like leagues away. Just keep in mind that there is one installment after this, V: Ultimatum, which will be the first and only story that is SOLELY my content, without any game guiding my progress. It both terrifies me and excites me; also keep in mind that Ultimatum will be...very dark.** _

_**As in darker than Holocaust. Alot of your favourite characters are going to get alot of shit and beaten up, and Tali is no exception. Ultimatum is my battlefield; I will be going all out. No mercy. There will be a ton of angst, and I'm going to portray the absolute terror and unfairness of war, and as much as I hate it, there will be far more main character deaths in Ultimatum than (possibly) in the whole series combined. You think you know pain? You know nothing, Jon Snow. Just wanted to give you a heads up.** _

_**Anyway, enough of me babbling. You probably want me to get writing Chapter 30 as quickly as possible. So on with the show! It might be nearly over, but we're aren't there yet!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	38. Shoals of Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is informed of the quarians' dire situation. Tali struggles to survive against the geth onslaught over Rannoch. A blissful reunion is had.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY:**

**SHOALS OF DUST**

_**Warning: Just thought I'd give some of the newer readers some discretion. This chapter WILL contain smut at the end of it. Just a warning for those who don't like that sort of thing. Its not until the end, so you can skip it if you don't want to read it. You won't miss out on much story, so you won't have to force yourself through it. I don't usually do 'sex-position' much anyway. I leave that to Game of Thrones. :P** _

_July 3, 2186_

_1635 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the QMFV Depaxia in orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Soldier Javik, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib._

The atmosphere in the War Room was tenser than it usually was. Every crew member at their terminals was working as per usual, but they did it alot more nervously; especially ever since their commanding officer entered the room.

Garrus stood on one side of the console, arms crossed and body tight as a bow string. He looked about ready to lash out, and for good reason. But there was also concern in the turian's eyes; one he shot to the main occupant of the room almost constantly, although it was never reciprocated or answered in full.

Kasumi stood next to him, idlely tapping away at her omni-tool as the group waited. It was no secret just why they were in the Dholen System in geth territory...or what had been geth territory. Just over a minute ago, they had docked with a quarian envoy ship called the QMFV Depaxia; equipped with stealth systems undoubtably passed on by the Alliance or picked up by the quarians. Either way, the quarians obviously had the tech, and had put it into a cruiser-weight looking vessel that was lined with enough firepower to sink five ships of its own class. It was the same question you posed to the Normandy; its predecessor was a frigate, but with its new size it might as well be a cruiser, and with its thanix cannon it might as well be a dreadnought. With the Depaxia, it was a cruiser, but it might as well have been a ship-killer for the amount of missiles, GARDIANs, point defense lasers and javelin torpedoes it was armed with.

Its kinetic barriers were a bit scary too; EDI had run a thorough scan of the vessel when they docked with it and out of curiosity, Garrus had asked for a copy of the diagnostic. He believed humans would say it was 'pimped out.' The quarians had thrown their utilitarianistic ideals to the wind and gone all out in the Depaxia's design; it had cyclonic barriers, which was no surprise considering Tali literally invented it, which meant it could survive a full shot from a dreadnought's main gun. It had armor thicker than that of the usual turian  _heavy_ cruiser, and some sort of odd weapons protruded from its bow; their purpose left unknown, even to EDI. But they must have done something if the quarians had them installed. They weren't known for having pointless items unless they produced something worthwhile.

So when he turned back to Kasumi, noting her nervous and excited posture, he smiled, easing his muscles only slightly. It was no secret why they were here in Dholen, in orbit over a world long conquered. The quarians had sent out a distress call. For what purpose they did not know, but it had to be bad. Usually, Garrus would wave it off as a stray ship deciding to sneak into geth space and getting ambushed, and he would think the Migrant Fleet was safe in some far away cluster.

But this ship was an envoy vessel, and from what they claimed, had the entire quarian admiralty onboard.  _All four of them._ Obviously, that had been enough to peak Marcus' interests to get him to drop everything and come straight here; even abandoning the hunt for a Cerberus warship; yeah, he had pinged the system and flagged it for Primarch Victus to send a patrol to look at it, but even still, the Cerberus ship could be gone by the time they arrived. Marcus had effectively dropped out of class and ran.

Javik, a man Garrus really didn't like, which was feeling not only mutual for the crew, but also mutual for the prothean, stood stoic as ever, lips creased in a look of carelessness as he stood in a prothean version of parade rest; fists clenched and ready for combat. Apparently where turians were militaristic, protheans were outright tactically observant. Turians at least had civilians; from what Javik had said about the Prothean Empire, every citizen had fought in their Reaper War because they all learned how to fight when they were 30. A young age when you considered protheans had had the lifespan of an asari and then some. Why he was here was beyond Garrus, as the only reason himself and Kasumi were here was because of why Marcus was so eager to get over here. Javik had no personal endeavour in this, so why the hell was he here?

Then came Marcus; the man was more tense than Garrus was, and that was saying something. He looked about ready to snap, and his eyes were so blank that if he looked close enough, he could probably see right through them. He was braced over the table, hands gripping the edge painfully he would have guessed, if the stress marks on his skin were any indication. He looked blankly through the spinning hologram of the Depaxia, having long finished examining it and the names of all its crew members; courtesy of EDI.

Garrus would have expected excitement. Joy. Wonderment. Relief.

Garrus sighed, rubbing his left mandible. Sure, there was no guarantee she was even onboard that ship, and last time he checked, she wasn't an admiral, but they could hope that where there were quarians, there was Tali'Shepard vas Normandy. And she was the main reason Marcus had been so eager to get here, so why not entertain that little hope?

Anything to get rid of that damnable expression from his face. Ever since Jacob's death it had been there, hiding slightly and then coming out in full force when Mordin died, and then again at Thane's funeral. It was an expression he couldn't quite point a finger at and explain; you just saw it and knew what he was going through. Pain. Sorrow. Grief. Torment. Agony. Loneliness. They listed themselves off, but Marcus never shed a tear; not one bit of emotion left those eyes, because whenever he looked about to collapse, he just went blank. He became emotionless.

And that kind of shit was scary. Especially when it was Marcus Shepard.

Maybe Tali being back would get rid of that expression; kill it off once and for all.

Marcus' omni-tool buzzed, and the man seemed to snap out of it in a second. Garrus almost flinched from the sudden movement; if you blinked, you would have missed it. Even Kasumi seemed startled by it, tearing her eyes away from her game of solitaire to stare at her commander bewilderedly.

The man stood straight, almost punching the button as he accepted the call, "Shepard."

"Westmoreland here," came the voice of the second of the two guards of that ridiculous security checkpoint, "The quarians have just passed through screening; they're clean. Should be with you any second."

The doors opened just as she finished, Marcus nodding as the door fully opened and the first of the admirals walked through, three more behind her, "They just got here; Shepard out." His omni-tool disappeared as he lowered it, and he smiled warmly as the quarians descended the steps, looking to be in total awe of all the technology around them.

"Aun-" he cut himself off, deciding to be professional for their sake, "Admiral Raan; a pleasure to meet you again. Its been awhile."

The quarian shook her head at the professionalism, circling around the table with arms open, "You need not bother with such formalities; its just Shala, or Auntie to you, Marcus," her thick accent replied, sounding almost perfectly like a female indian would. He sighed, nodding as he opened his own arms to greet his adopted quarian aunt, arms wrapping around each other in warm embrace. It made Garrus slightly uncomfortable watching, with Kasumi simply giggling. Still, an amused smile crossed his lips at Javik's confused and shocked expression, the prothean having not seen the quarian admiral and his human commander to embrace in the middle of the deck.

 _What, did Marcus' pheromones not give that one away, Prothy?_ He grinned even wider at the nickname; one Joker was quite proud of.

Marcus seemed to give a genuine chuckle, "I'll keep that in mind, Shala."

The quarian known as Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, commander of the Patrol Fleet and aunt to both Tali and now Shepard, pulled out of the embrace, straightening her brown veil as she stood out the way, allowing the other admirals their greetings.

Han'Gerrel vas Neema, leader of the Heavy Fleet and uncle to both Tali and now Shepard, stood forward, his imposing posture a testament to his war-like nature. He was an ex-marine, a strategist, and a quarian tactician. It was the main reason he led the Heavy Fleet; the Flotilla's form of military navy. He held his hand out, his American accent distorted only by his vocalizer, "Marcus, its been too long. Although I'm sure you have many war stories to tell me. I heard about Earth, and I am truly sorry. We quarians know all too well what it is like to lose a homeworld."

"Thank you Admiral, and it is good to see you too," he replied formally, taking his three-fingered hand and shaking it firmly.

Gerrel waved it off, jabbing a thumb at Raan, "I'm like her, Marcus. We're family, you and I. Just call me Gerrel. Or Han, if you'd like. Just avoid calling me admiral unless its in combat. I might even like being called uncle."

"You're pushing your luck, Gerrel," Marcus replied heartily, but the closer they got to the end of the greeting, his smile got less and less warm the more he realized Tali wasn't present. Possibly wasn't even on the Depaxia at all. And Garrus felt awful just looking at his deflated posture.  _Seven months of waiting to see her...then he thinks he's finally got her...only to find he hasn't, poor bastard...at least I've got Kasumi..._ he turned to Kasumi, glad she was too concentrated on teasing Javik to notice his wandering his eyes. He squinted his eyes, forcefully exiling those thoughts to the purgatories of his mind.  _Enough of that, Garrus. Pull yourself together. Quarian admirals. Distress. Need help. No Tali. Shepard in distress. Got it._

Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib of the Civilian Fleet was next, his white veil seeming to shine in the blue light of the holographic Depaxia, his mask nodding to the captain and holding his hand out reservedly as he spoke, his seemingly british accent leaving little to nothing in terms of anti-amusement, "Captain Shepard, a pleasure. I just wish we were able to meet again under much better circumstances."

Marcus nodded solemnly, "As do I, admiral. These are troubling times for all of us."

"Indeed," Koris replied, following Raan and Gerrel to the other side of the table as the most infamous quarian admiral of them all, Daro'Xen, approached, holding out her hand with an almost bored expression, not even bothering with a basic formality.

There was some tension. Marcus really didn't like Xen, and it was clear the feeling was mutual with Garrus. Everything about her was wrong; from her sick experiments to her borderline obsession on trying to renslave the geth; a mistake that had led, ironically, to the quarians' current predicament. Mix all that together, and you had a mad scientist stereotype given realistic portrayal. She was also the youngest member of the admirals, as could be told by her voice; merely in her early thirties, where everybody else on it seemed to be cruising towards their twilight years, Raan prime among them, with Gerrel coming up second, and Koris third. Xen seemed almost out of place among the elder quarians, especially with her fanatical ideology.

Marcus, although reluctantly, reached out and grasped Xen's hand, shaking it lightly but not as firmly as Gerrel or Koris'. He seemed to cringe away from her, although he kept that well hidden from the young quarian. Xen shrugged it off, simply turning away as soon as the shake broke, moving to join Gerrel as she crossed her arms under her breasts, leaning back and staring curiously at Javik with a mixture of carelessness and what seemed to be shock; if the slightly bigger beacons behind her mask were any indication.

It didn't take long for things to get down to business, especially when it was made clear that Tali would not be present for the meeting. Garrus did have to frown however when he saw a lone quarian standing at the back, cradling something in their arms, but with their back turned to them. Marcus didn't seem to notice, but Garrus did, and couldn't help but notice how odd it was.  _Who is that?_

"I have to say that this meeting was very abrupt, admirals," Marcus blurted out, turning off the holographic projector as he directed his speech to the four of them, "I was pinning my hope on you helping us fight the Reapers, but I had to learn a month ago that your people simply vanished off the face of the galaxy. My assumption was that either the Reapers had gotten to you, or you were laying low. Now I pick up a distress signal,  _a full month_ after the war has begun, and you're just sitting in the middle of geth space with the Migrant Fleet nowhere to be found? Care to explain why that is? Care to explain exactly why the Depaxia looks about ready to tackle a dreadnought and why you were in stealth when we found you?"

None of the admirals at that point seemed particularly eager to answer the captain's string of questions. They all seemed to look at each other, or at least Shala and Gerrel did; Koris just shook his head angrily and Xen continued to study Javik's form from across the room like nothing else mattered or was going on. Gerrel made a hand motion at Marcus, and Shala seemed to slowly nod before turning away and crossing her arms, head hung low in what Garrus assumed was...shame? Okay, now his interest was definitely peeked.

Gerrel let out a long sigh, turning towards Marcus as he, himself, braced over the table, meeting Marcus' steely, uncompromising gaze. He wanted to know why the quarians hadn't helped him when he needed it. Why they had disappeared. And now that he had the opportunity to find out, he was going to find out why. He could tell all that just by looking into the man's eyes.

"A...few days ago, on July 1st...the Migrant Fleet...we..." he growled, shoving himself off the table as he crossed his arms, all evidence of his hesitation now gone, voice fueled by frustration, "My people, the quarian species, decided to finish what we started. With multiple precision strikes on all geth systems, including this one and those like it, we began the war to reclaim our homeworld. The Second Morning War."

Garrus' jaw practically dropped, Kasumi stood still and Marcus...

...did absolutely nothing but  _stare._

It was like he wasn't even seeing Gerrel; simply seeing through him like he didn't existent. No anger was present, no confusion, no sadness. Simple blankness. It began to piss Garrus off that he couldn't even tell what he was feeling.

Luckily for him, he needn't have waited long.

"You fucking  _ **morons**_ ," he growled, eyes furrowing in anger as he shook his head, "After all I told you, about the Reapers coming and preparing, you went ahead and  _did it anyway._ We're already in the middle of a goddamn war for survival, and you go ahead and start  _ **another one!? What the fuck were you thinking!?**_ "

His raised voice actually seemed to disturb Xen's examination of Javik, although she only seemed to be mildly annoyed by the interruption than shock. For the rest of the admirals, that was different. Koris stared at Marcus, as if trying to discern what side he was taking and possibly hoping it was his side, while Gerrel seemed to almost flinch and he noticed Shala cringe slightly, as if hoping that the anger would end soon; more the reaction of a frightened child than an elderly, wise and experienced quarian admiral.

Finally, Koris seemed to gain the guts to actually speak, turning so he faced Gerrel fully, "A point I tried my best to present to the Admiralty Board. Not only was a war with the geth going to be more costly and bloody than we could afford, but the Reapers were already invading. But they went ahead and did it anyway. I tried to tell them, by nobody would listen," his voice seemed to crack at the end, his voice distorted and sounding almost tearful and terrified, "And now...now our people..." he cleared his throat, shaking his head, "I apologize, but our current situation is less than favourable, and if we don't act quickly, my...the quarian people...we..."

"...will cease to exist because of our foolish mistake," Shala finally declared, all eyes landing on her as she lifted her eyes to meet Marcus', "Our people are trapped over the homeworld, captain. We were winning, but then something happened to the geth and now we are trapped and are being destroyed. We... _I..._ am begging for your help. We don't know what to do."

"Our civilians are trapped and terrified," Koris snapped, slamming a fist into the table, pointing an accusing finger at Gerrel, "If it wasn't for this  _bosh'tet_ and his damn hatred of the geth we wouldn't be-"

"Our people voted for this war," Gerrel snarled, turning to face Koris fully, "They chose this path."

"No,  _you_ chose it for them! You promised them victory and the homeworld!  _Of course_ they voted for it!" the admiral returned in kind, almost visor to visor with the man he never seemed to stop arguing with, "You gave them false  _hope_."

"Enough, all of you," Marcus cut off abruptly, his voice low but not as angered as it was before. He loved the quarian people, and with Tali's life possibly on the line, Garrus knew what the man's reaction would be from the get go; he couldn't turn them away, "It doesn't matter who did what or why; what's done is done. You created this situation, and now you want me to help fix it. And I will. But I need to know just what led up to this point," he turned to Gerrel, frowning, "For starters, just how the hell did you manage to tackle the geth? You said you took out all their systems and managed to push them all the way back to  _Rannoch itself?_ How is that possible?"

Xen was quick to jump in, "I won't bore your simple mind with the technology, but we developed weapons capable of crippling geth warships in combat and leaving them totally vulnerable. Weapons capable of killing entire platoons of geth primes. Those weapons were supposed to give us victory. They would have; we demonstrated that when we took back Haestrom, then this system, then the rest of the Far Rim, then rest of the Perseus Veil. We would have taken Rannoch as well."

"So why didn't you?" Marcus asked, still confused.

"Something went wrong. Xen still isn't quite sure what did it, but she's working on it," Koris stated, facing Marcus with crossed arms and a straightened posture, "Basically, when we reached Rannoch, the geth had the bulk of their navy in position; a full thirty thousand warships. They had a super-dreadnought of unimaginable power with them; its firepower was unlike anything we had ever seen; but with our weapons, taking it out would have been easy. But then they changed. They were suddenly stronger, more accurate and faster. Our weapons no longer worked, and they carved through our lines and enveloped us in a pincer movement. It was the decision of the chief admiral to have us depart on the Depaxia and ask for help; she has remained behind to coordinate the fleet in our absence."

Marcus nodded, turning to Xen, "Have you figured out just what did it? Why the geth changed so suddenly?" There was a confused look on Marcus' face, one Garrus mirrored.  _How could the geth evolve so quickly in combat? Spirits, where is Tali in the middle of all this? And Legion? Damn it...they were supposed to co-exist together so we can fight the Reapers..._

_Tali, what went wrong?_

The quarian nodded, bringing up her omni-tool as he patched into the holotable. I had it figured out the moment we left the fleet, I just had to be sure. But upon our entry into the system,  _this_  code..." she trailed off, a great big red hologram of a sphere with what looked to be thousands of neural links spiralling out of it like treeroots appearing above the table, "...was transmitted directly into the geth consensus. Every geth has it, and it has substantially improved their tactics, accuracy and firepower. It has made them infinitely stronger."

Marcus recognized it; he must have. Because Garrus recognized the look of it, the general feel of it, and even Javik did, even if he didn't voice it. But they needed confirmation. They always did. Things were rarely as they seemed with their team.

Xen spoke before they could talk, directing her words at Marcus as her omni-tool deactivated, taking the large hologram with it, "I think you know just what this code is, captain."

Marcus nodded solemnly, rubbing his temples, "I do. Its Reaper code," he slammed a fist into the table, cursing under his breath, "Fucking damn it. It seems that everywhere you go, the Reapers or Cerberus are there. And once again they seemed to be indoctrinating the geth; this time though, it seems every geth is affected. No heretics or true geth; just geth. Every single damn one of them, I'd bet."

 _Which could mean Legion._ Garrus didn't like that thought at all. He wasn't exactly pals with it, but Legion had been alright as a comrade, and it would suck to have to kill it in combat. But if it came between saving Tali, who he considered to be a little sister and killing Legion to do so, he'd do it in a heartbeat. And then some.

Marcus looked up, danger in his voice as he spoke, "Here's how it is admirals; you've gotten your people stuck in an ocean of shit they can't handle. You've forced this on them, and that's on you. For every quarian that dies now, that's on  _you._ All four of  _you._ Its your duty to protect them, and right now,  _you are failing that job._ So I'll save your people; but I'm doing it for the people you failed,  _not you_..." Then he turned to Shala, his patience falling apart in an instant as he seemed unwilling or simply unable to wait anymore. After seven months of cold nights, Garrus couldn't blame him. He wanted to know too."

"But I'm not doing a damn thing until I know where my wife is. Where is she, Shala?" he demanded, "Where is Tali? Where's my  _yol'tiya_? Is she dead?"

"She is not dead, Marcus," Shala replied quietly, trying to remain diplomatic, "She's perfectly healthy...I hope."

"Tell me where she is," he growled, although it was clear he was relieved. When an answer wasn't palpable, his voice got lower and more dangerous, more ferally desperate, "Shala,  _where is she_?"

" _Admiral_ Tali'Shepard is onboard her flagship, the Machina," Koris filled in, Shala and Marcus shooting the man glares all at once, both for different reasons, "She is the Chief Admiral of the Board and was the one who proposed this meeting. She decided to stay behind to lead a delaying action until such time as your arrival."

Marcus didn't say anything for a moment, remaining absolutely still as these words registered within his mind. He blinked three times in that time period, gulped five times, and his lip seemed to quiver, as if about ready to simply weep.

Then a whisper, one only Garrus, in such close proximity, could make, and even then, just barely, "Tali...wife...an admiral...proud...her..." he looked down, shaking his head as he held his head in his hands for a moment, quietly mumbling. The other admirals exchanged glances, not knowing what to do about his sudden mood swing. Garrus, concerned, raised a hand to place on his shoulder.

It made contact just as Marcus shot up, steeling himself as he looked up, "Joker, disengage from the Depaxia and make best speed for the Dholen Relay. Then get us to the Tikkun System in the Perseus Veil; prep the stealth drive for combat insertion. Area is going to be hot."

"Copy," Joker replied simply, cutting the connection afterwards.

Marcus nodded, standing up, "If you'll excuse me, I've got to get ready. Javik, Garrus, Kasumi, you're all with me," he snapped, moving and shoving past Koris, not even turning to apologize as he prepared to move up the steps, "We'll blow a hole in the geth line, hopefully scare them off, and locate the Machina. This is an evacuation op, so whatever you d-"

A hand grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly enough that he couldn't tear it away. He turned, frowning angrily at his quarian aunt, "Marcus, don't leave yet. You-"

"My wife is in danger. I need to get ready so I can goddamn  _save her_ and the damn Migrant Fleet. I need to go and get ready," he replied, but even as he turned to leave, Shala held firm, refusing to let go, even as he turned and gave her a solid death glare, "Shala, so help me God, let go of me before I-"

A loud wailing cut him off, and he stopped mid sentence, frowning as he turned towards the quarian he hadn't noticed before. Garrus turned as well, just as confused, followed by Kasumi, who reflectively gasped. Garrus almost gasped, if it wasn't for his eyes already widening to breaking point. Alot of that was happening recently.

The quarian was a marine, clearly given away by her strong posture and authoritive stance. Cradled in her arms was a wailing child, a baby, three-fingered hands waving about as his eyes clenched shut, wailing to his heart's content. Little legs shot up and about as the marine cooed quietly, tending to the child like a mother. His skin was purple, with little puffs of hair growing along the scalp. Kasumi was wobbly legged; being a woman, she found the baby adorable.

Marcus could only stare dumbstruck, before turning to Shala with incredulousness, "You brought a damn baby onto a warship? What were you thinking? Why?"

"It is not mine," Shala replied, gulping as she motioned to the child, "Tali requested I bring Junior along for his safety. She was concerned that he would not be safe."

"But why?" he asked, shrugging as he waved dismissively at the child, "Why this one? Why this particular child out of all the children on the Migrant Fleet?"

Gerrel spoke this time, delivering the fatal blow, "Because she is his mother. And you are his father. That child, Junior she named him, is your son, Marcus. Your child; flesh and blood and all."

Whatever response Marcus had been prepared for, it hadn't been that. Maybe the son of a childhood friend or a kid that left an impact on her life, but nothing like that. Not...her son.  _Their_ little boy.

Garrus merely looked at his friend, trying to look for response. For once, Marcus wasn't enigmatic or hard to figure out. He didn't hold his emotions back, but he didn't weep either. He simply looked at the boy in the quarian's arms, who was now being held out to him, expected to be taken. He scrambled for words, but in the end, he simply reached out, watching as the quarian looking child was gently placed into his arms, the quarian's wailing seeming to cease as their eyes met.

"Hey kid," Marcus whispered, one of his larger fingers stroking his cheek, which Junior abruptly ah hold of, which actually caused him to chuckle quietly. His other tiny hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt tightly, little eyes looking up into his. Marcus nodded, sure of who he was. He had his eyes, he knew it, "I'm your...I'm your dad."  _I'm a father. Holy shit, I'm a fucking_ _ **father.**_

Mordin's serum had worked. Both he and Tali had taken it, but even Mordin had been skeptical about it even working. Whether it would actually help the two produce children. But it had, holy shit, it  _had._ The only sad thing about it...Mordin hadn't lived long enough to see another of his miracles succeed. Just another reason he deeply missed the brilliant salarian.

He continued the stroke the baby's face. This was their flesh and blood; a child of their own. Not adopted, or artificially inseminated...theirs in purity.  _Theirs._ He and Tali had to be the happiest parents in the galax-

Tali.

The mother was in danger.

With the moment shattered, he gently placed the child back in the quarian's arms, turning to the admirals as his face set in a grim line, his soft gentleness suddenly gone, as if solely reserved for his child, "I'm going to get to the Machina, rescue my wife, and then save the whole damn quarian species. I hope you realize just what kind of man you've asked for help from. Because I'm going to do more than that."

As Garrus watched him walk away, he realized that it was Junior that had revitalized him. When Marcus said he was going to do more than save the quarians, the turian believed him. He knew that look. It was of determination, spirit and courage. That of a hero.

It seemed that Marcus Shepard had returned from the dead for a second time.

**{Loading...}**

_July 3, 2186_

_1653 hours._

_Main Bridge, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Migrant Fleet, Tikkun System, In Orbit over Rannoch, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina, Commander Igra'Trasp vas Machina._

The Machina tried her best to avoid the flanking shot, but at point blank range, it was an impossible maneveur. Tali could only brace herself against one of the consoles alongside Igra in preparation for the impact, clenching her teeth.

She was thrown across the room from the impact, the console she had been bracing against exploding in a flurry of sparks and destroyed machinery, Igra landing ontop of her in a heap. She watched as one of her last surviving bridge members was crushed by a falling section of bulkhead, crushing him in an instant, cutting off his scream in mid crescendo.

"Admiral!" Igra managed to make the word sound like a demand, the commander turning over to look her CO in the eyes, "Admiral, are you alright!?"

"I'm fine! Get back to your station!" Tali snapped, almost shoving Igra off of her form as she hurried to her feet, rushing over to the navigation console where its officer lay slumped against it, sticky red blood pooling over the console. Because of this, it took a few more taps than usual to summon the interface, but she managed it, and quickly brought the engines on a roundabout course, "Tactical, blow a hole through that line! We need to break through! Concentrate your fire on making us a hole!"

The entire battle was turning into a slaughter. None of the three liveships had been destroyed or damaged yet, but that could change fairly quickly. The rest of the Flotilla wasn't fairing as good; the Civilian Fleet had been largely untouched, but only because of the Heavy, Patrol and Special Projects fleets literally sacrificing entire ships to keep them safe. They still outnumbered the geth by a large margin, but it didn't mean much; the geth were completely superior in firepower, accuracy and mass. Their weapons were carving through hers, and any advantages they previously had were now useless and meant nothing. Her people were being slaughtered.

Could this truly be the extinction of the quarian race? One final battle between masters and machines over the homeworld?

Didn't Koris prophesize this?

"We can't, ma'am!" her tactical replied, his fingers dancing over the control interface as he tried desperately to summon whatever weapons he could. In the end, Kenn'Raan vas Machina turned to her in defeat, his arms slumped. He had taken command of the tactical station after Sama was killed, and he was fairly new to the role, "The geth took out our last point-defense battery with that last salvo! We're completely defenseless! All other weapon systems are offline!"

She bit on her lower lip, holding onto the console as another salvo impacted the ship, followed by an almighty bang. "Bosh'tet!" she shouted, pulling herself up so she was eye level with Kenn, "Report!"

Kenn was already on it, having gotten used to his captain requesting constant status reports through the course of the battle. What he had to say wasn't good, "The shot pierced the crew's quarters! Its...its gone, ma'am! I'm sealing off that area!"

_Keelah...I hope Kal and Madi weren't still in there..._

"I need shields, Kenn!" she barked, "Give me whatever you can get!"

"Cyclonic barriers aren't responding, but I can give us sixty percent shields!" Kenn stated firmly, shaking his head as he slammed a fist into the console, "Damn it! I can't give us shields without cutting all power to the engines!"

Tali had to make a decision. Make a run for it? Or raise shields and sit here until they pounded into dust? Was that really even an option? Was she seriously giving herself two options when only one made any kind of sense? What was the point in needlessly getting their ship destroyed?

"All power to engines!" she ordered, surprising both Igra and Kenn, who both froze. Tali, noticing that nothing was happening, turned to Igra with a glare, "I said,  _do it._  All power to engines! Get us out of here! Give me all the speed you have, you bosh'tets!"

Igra hurriedly nodded, knowing well enough not to question Tali's orders directly. She spun to face Kenn, hands clasped behind her back and eminating an aura of perfect calm, "You heard the lady! Full military thrust! Give it all you've got!" Another shot shook the vessel, taking ancestors knew how many lives with it. The Machina wasn't going to last much longer; Tali was surprised it had lasted as long as it had.

Kenn didn't even respond, simply carrying out his orders without question. Tali could only watch the viewscreen as her destroyer spun around in time to watch a fellow destroyer get swarmed by a dozen geth interceptors, rendering its hull into molten sheets of rapidly cooling debris. Plasma bolts rained down around them, and Tali could only watch as they melted through ship's hulls, disintegrating them or blowing parts of them off. Debris floated about; most of it quarian vessels, but some of it geth. But only a small amount. The geth were powerful, but they still weren't invincible; it just took alot of concentrated firepower to take one down.

She watched in horror as a long bolt of plasmatic energy seemed to cut through space, bright purple vapor instantly atomizing four cruisers in a long row, along with the six civilian frigates they had been protecting. And as soon as it had fired, it was gone; dust particles spread to the cosmic winds until they winked out of existence. That had been the super-dreadnought's energy projector; its most fearsome weapon.  _Keelah, if that gets a lock on even one of the liveships..._ Luckily, they had figured the range of the super dreadnought's main gun, and had quickly moved all three liveships well out of range; as far as one can go without endangering them to the geth's flanking attacks while keeping them sufficiently defended and out of range of the energy projector.

Tali had ordered some of her ships to fire on it, but they didn't even make a dent in its shielding; it was almost on par with Reaper kinetic barriers, which pretty much confirmed her suspicions; the Reapers were involved with this somehow. Only they could upgrade the geth so quickly, and only the fact that the super-dreadnought had thanix cannons only confirmed this. The Reapers were influencing the geth, which could only mean two things: the geth had been indoctrinated by the Reapers, or Legion had lied to her, and there was no two geth factions, and only one.

She didn't know which one to believe.  _Why would Legion lie? It said itself; geth can't lie. Its not a logical response. But what if that, in itself, was a lie? How do we know what was truth and what wasn't? Did Legion really betray us? Keelah, I don't know what to believe!_

She shook those thoughts away, and saw that they were heading towards the Bakara; the second of the Fleet's liveships. She saw that the Neema and Moreh were flanking it on both sides. So far, they had gotten lucky; the geth had only been sending fighters and interceptors to deal with them and even with their upgrades, they were still no match for a dreadnoughtified liveship and two heavy cruisers. But that would quickly change; soon, the geth would realize more resources needed to be committed, and would send capital ships. That, or they'd move their super-dreadnought in for the kill.

Hundreds of thousands of people lived on that liveship. If it went...the idea made her shiver with fear. No, she would defend that ship with her  _life._ Same went for the other two.

_This war was stupid...foolish...irresponsible! We wouldn't be in this position if I had just told them about the geth peace offering! I was weak! I didn't want to exile and it made me selfish! Keelah, if only Mar-_

She was thrown against the console, her guard let down as a particularly large explosion sent a massive tremor throughout the destroyer, all their forward momentum seeming to slowly come to a stop, Tali shaking her head as she felt her mask for cracks, glad she didn't find any. She propped her elbows on the console, the blood on it now dried, and turned to Kenn, "What just happened!?"

"Kenn, calm down!" Igra barked, "You're going to be fine!"

"M-m-m-m-y my m-mask!" Kenn almost screamed, voice shaky and terrified, "My  _mask_..."

Tali turned to see Igra consoling Kenn, who, to her immense horror, was holding shards of his mask in his hands. It wasn't totally shattered; she could only see one of his eyes and a flash of grey skin, but aside from that, most of his mask was still in place, just major cracked. But it didn't stop the quarian from going into a panic attack, body shaking in panic. Tali growled, getting up from her console and making her way over, managing to grab the console as another explosion shook the ship, causing the viewscreen to crack and explode, losing their visual of the outside world.

She looked at the tactical display on Kenn's console and felt her mind freeze. The shot had pierced their rear section, shearing it off in a bright explosion of purple and orange light, which died almost as instantly as it come up. When it lifted, the engines were completely gone, and their entire back was exposed to the void of space. Vapor trailed from the edges, and smaller fires winked out as the oxygen was ripped from the ship's confines. That was why they were losing acelleration; they had no engines to give them any.

She commed engineering in a hurry, "Engineering, report!"

Static was her response.

She cursed as she realized that there likely wasn't an engineering to actually contact, and she braced against the console, looking at it blankly. The ship continued to shake all around them, shuddering and blustering as it absorbed the punishment from the geth warships around it. The Machina had no hope of surviving. Without engines, shields or weapons, they were dead in the water, as Marcus would say. And as proud of her ships as she was, despite only captaining it for six months, she knew she couldn't stay here. She remembered just what that had done for Joker when they lost the original Normandy three years ago. She didn't plan to come to the pilot's rescue this time if that happened.

She turned to navigation and cringed.  _Guess the circumstances are slightly different._

She turned to Igra, who gave her an expectant look. She knew what it was: she knew exactly what Tali was thinking, and was encouraging her to go through with it. Kenn just continued to shake, holding his face in his hands, whether out of feeling exposed or simply out of an instinctual need to protect his face from bacteria, even though the act wouldn't save him.

She hit the button for shipwide comms, almost gritting her teeth as she forced the words from her mouth, "All hands, this is the captain speaking. I'm effectively giving the order to abandon ship. All hands head to your nearest escape pods. I repeat, abandon ship. This order is non-negotiable; get to the escape pods or I'll drag you out myself.  _Noone_ try to be a hero. Admiral Shepard out," she turned away, motioning to Kenn as he looked at Igra, "Help him up. We're getting out of here." The ship shook again, the navigation console exploding as a beam from the ceiling was set loose, crushing it and the dead body occupying it.

Igra nodded, wrapping an arm over Kenn's shoulders and helping him up, following Tali as they headed towards a large, circular indent in the wall; the escape pod.

Just as she entered the code to open the vehicle and she stepped inside, her comm crackled and she hit it, "Shepard."

"Ma'am, its Kal," the familiar gruff voice responded, allowing her a sigh of relief, "I've got Madi and the rest of my detail and we're heading for the pods now. Just thought you should know. And I'll drag out anyone who tries to stay behind, ma'am."

"Thank you Kal," Tali replied, sitting down as she strapped herself in, watching Igra do the same similiarly for Kenn, who was now unconscious, his immune system overwhelmed and knocking him into that state. They had to act quickly, or the poor kid wouldn't make it. His suit was already sealed, but if they didn't get him a new mask...

Igra sat down next to her, strapping herself down while Tali cut the comm, closing her eyes. She felt a sudden sense of deja vu overcome her, causing her to wince at the memories.

_...Tali breathed a sigh of relief..._

_...she hadn't heard his voice respond over the comm, but she knew he was alive..._

_...Tali couldn't believe it. She refused..._

_...she wished she could rip her mask off and just die of infection..._

_...she felt hollow..._

_"Ish'ko lasi'ti!" ...I am alone, I am empty..._

The memories were horrible. They were memories of the Normandy's destruction. Of her losing Marcus. Of how he died. But he had come back, and she wasn't about to be spaced like he was. Because she knew that, unlike him, she would not be brought back to life.

She felt a wave of vertigo wash over her as the pod shook and then shot forward, moving into space, leaving her flagship behind. She was no longer 'vas Machina.' How could she be when her ship was mere seconds from destruction? No, she was simply Tali'Shepard. Without a ship. Tali'Shepard oso Machina.  _Tali'Shepard, Rid of the Machina._

She hoped someone would find them.

And that the geth didn't shoot them down like she had seen shoot down many other escape pods.

She had no idea just who would find them.

**{Loading...}**

_July 3, 2186_

_1703 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Tikkun System, In Orbit over Rannoch, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI, Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

"What do you have, Joker?" Marcus asked, coming to stand behind the pilot as he fitted on the last piece of his armor, clicking the armoured gauntlet into place and flexing it to make sure it was in working order. Joker had to crane his neck to look up at him; his Terminus Assault Armor made him look larger and more intimidating than he actually was. His mattock was holstered on his back, his newly favoured N7 Hurricane strapped on his hip along with his N7 Paladin. On his back was his claymore heavy shotgun, and his helmet was fastened on so he couldn't see his face. Even his voice was distorted.

The pilot sighed, turning back to the screens infront of him as he lazily flicked one aside, head in his balled up fist, "Pretty much a big-old shitstorm, Shepard."

"I have detected at least forty-eight thousand quarian vessels engaged in active combat with a geth naval force of thirty thousand. From my readings, the quarians have inflicted minimal losses, and are suffering much larger. All three of their liveships remain intact and undamaged, however, they are being swarmed by geth fighter and interceptor squadrons. I also detect hundreds of capital ship sized ships, eighteen of them being dreadnought weight. However, I am detecting one particular vessel that is not coming up as a particular weight; its mass and sheer size are greater than the dreadnoughts and a liveship, and its weaponry is far greater than five turian dreadnoughts combined. I believe it fits the criteria necessary for the theoretical super-dreadnoughts. It wields a plasma-based energy weapon far more powerful than a thanix cannon, and capable of vaporizing a dreadnought upon impact. It is currently inflicting the most casualities."

"Yeah, pretty much like I said," Joker deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he turned to see Garrus and Kasumi arriving on the deck, "Although that super-dreadnought sounds like deep shit for the quarians, Shepard."

Marcus barely seemed to notice the pilot's sarcastic comment as the Normandy passed by Adas, the third planet in the system. They were almost there now; the next planet was Rannoch, and even from their distance of hundreds of millions of kilometers away, they could see tiny flashes in the distance, "EDI, give me the capabilities of that super-dread. What exactly are we dealing with?"

"Quick scans have yielded minimum results; its entire complement cannot be found out without a boarding party investigating. However, its basic manifest can be determined through a short-burst sensor scan," EDI dictated a matter of factly, and then went into the details, "Scans reveal that the vessel is slightly bigger than a Sovereign-Class Reaper, with an exact length of 2.3 kilometers. Its exact mass is two billion tonnes. It is alined with one thousand eight hundred infrared GARDIAN batteries, ninety-two heavy plasma turrets and three hundred and two light plasma turrets. It possesses seven hundred plasma mortars, nineteen pulse cannons, and seventeen thanix cannons. Its main gun is what the geth have dubbed a 'energy projector.' It is currently the main problem for the quarian fleet, as it is capable of penetrating a Reaper's kinetic barriers with a single shot, while also disintegrating them. Its only disadvantage is that it has a recharge time of a full minute, however, its cyclonic barriers are of Reaper standard, making it almost impossible to destroy. It is also aligned with numerous fighter bays, although that information, as I have said, is not privy to a low burst scan."

"Spirits," Garrus exclaimed softly, scratching his left mandible, "That thing is a monster."

 _And Harbinger's bane._ Marcus intoned.  _I want that ship. Hell, if we had a whole fleet of those things, we wouldn't need the Crucible._

"Are the geth able to pick us up while in stealth?" Marcus asked, frowning.

"As advanced as the Reaper upgrades have made the geth, they are still not capable of detecting us," EDI replied, "It is safe to assume that the same can be said of the super-dreadnought."

 _Good. I don't think the thanix cannon would be able to kill that thing with just one shot. Not that I want to. I want that ship. I_ _ **want**_ _it._ He shook his head, looking back down to Joker while squeezing the back of his chair. They were much closer now; they could pick out the battle ahead; plasma and shells tearing through space to impact against one another, burning holes through space and themselves. Sleek, geth hulls intermixed with the less elegant designs of the quarians, creator and the created battling it out in a fight of strength and wits; one the geth were winning, on both accounts.

And looming behind them, the silent observer, was Rannoch, the quarian homeworld itself. He couldn't tell much from the distance they were at, as they were still too far away to make out any details, but from what he could see, Rannoch was a garden world, much like Earth, which he thought was fitting, given that Rannoch was a khelish term that roughly translated as 'walled garden.' He wouldn't be able to see much else until they got closer.

_I'll want to know more about the planet I plan to settle on..._

He turned to EDI, then to Joker, before turning back to look out the viewscreen, "Excellent. EDI, bring up the stealth drive and bring us into the center of the fighting."

Garrus didn't look too happy about that, turning to Marcus with a raised eyebrow, "Are you sure its a good idea to be bringing us into the middle of a crossfire? We're talking about tens of thousands of ships firing at each other, and we're just going to wonder into the middle?"

A loud cough be heard, intended for clearing a throat, and all eyes diverted to Joker, who wearingly drummed his fingers on the dashboard. He rolled his eyes, turning back to his console with mock offense, "You're such a wuss, Garrus. Don't worry, I'll try not to get hit like I always do," he added sarcastically.

"Tali's in the middle of all that Garrus," Marcus stated, "Don't you think its worth the risk just to find her?"

Garrus nodded, but before he could reply, Kasumi piped in, "Sure is, Shep, but don't you think it would be counter-productive if we got blown up by a stray shell before we found her? Not only does that not help her, but that's just embarassing. All the things we fought through, and the thing that could kill us is friendly or stray plasma. That would  _sssuuuucccck..._ "

"Again, I'll try to keep us alive. And not get us killed. Like always," Joker remarked, keen to remind them just  _who_ had always been piloting the Normandy.

"We get it, Joker," Garrus reprimanded harshly, sighing heavily, "Best pilot in the Alliance fleet. Got it. Got it three years ago, and I get it now. Just get us in there."

"You mean the best damn pilot in the  _galaxy_ ," the pilot corrected, lazily flicking his fingers across the dash in a rapidfire dance of button pressing and commands, "But I'll forgive the slip up."

"I just hope they don't see us," Kasumi mumbled.

"Kasumi, the only way they'll know we're here is if we all start singing the russian national anthem," he stated dryly, but also reassuringly, "And because we've got an Israeli American, a turian and a Japanese thief, it shouldn't be too bad."

Marcus ignored the outwards banter as the Normandy flew closer, barely even noticing as Shala and Gerrel entered the cockpit, leaving Xen and Koris in the war room, where the Admiralty Board had elected to take up residence for the time being. He only had eyes for what history would call the First Battle of Rannoch...first battle because it wouldn't be the last in this stupid, pointless, proxy war. Proxy war because he would probably have to get the UGC involved if it got too serious.

_Can't believe this. Wasting resources and manpower on people who should be our allies? How did the Reapers get control of the geth? Did Legion lie? No, geth can't lie; it made that clear when it admitted to a few things sleeper agents normally wouldn't admit to. Then how? Are they indoctrinated? Did the heretics take over? No, the heretics were under Sovereign's sway, and they didn't have Reaper code..._

_...are the Reapers reacting to this directly? What if they are here, in the Tikkun System, watching this battle was we speak, waiting to strike?_

That feeling didn't exactly make him feel very safe. But then this thoughts diverted to the one, main reason he had rushed out here. Sure, the quarian people were in danger and that had been enough for him to help. But over all else, there was one person he cared about more than anything that was currently in great peril.

_I waited seven months to see you again, Tali. I'm not about to lose you just as I'm about to find you again. Death can go fuck himself. He is_ _**not** _ _claiming you today._ _**Not today.** _

"Is there anyway we can save the quarians? An escape route they can use?" Marcus asked, eyes scanning the battle as they got closer. EDI hadn't been exaggerating; the full might of the quarian flotilla and geth navy were clashing above Rannoch, both sides giving it everything they had. They were determined to make this battle the deciding factor of this brief war. And it was clear who would win if they didn't act quickly. And this time, he doubted the geth would allow the quarians to flee.

"I have calculated all possible withdrawal routes the quarians could take to evade the geth fleet movements," EDI stated, almost sounding regretful as she looked at the data, which made his hopes sink faster than a stone, "The geth are extremely methodical and have covered nearly every obstacle. They have initiated a quickly planned pincer movement, allowing them to close around the quarians from all sides; they cannot escape towards Rannoch, as that is where the geth are at their strongest. They cannot escape towards us because geth forces have cut off all access to the relay, and they cannot escape from the other sides for similiar reasons. They are completely trapped. They cannot fight their way through because of the Reaper code, and we cannot hope to open a hole just by ourselves."

_We can't call in UGC reinforcements to create a hole either; not only do we lose more ships, but it would take days for the nearest fleet to get here, and the quarians will be destroyed by then, or will only have a handful of ships left._

He gulped, rubbing the back of his neck as he moved over to EDI's chair, squeezing the back of her chair as he leaned in, "EDI, I need a  _solution._ I...I  _will not_ just sit here and watch the quarians get annihilated. There has to be  _something_ we can do. Dammit EDI, my  _wife_ is one of those ships!"

"Give her some space, Shepard," Joker chastized, not sounding happy about Marcus' proximity to the AI's body, "She can't work if you're in her face."

Marcus turned to growl at the pilot and give him a piece of his mind, but EDI cut in, turning to address Joker in an instant, "That is not correct, Jeff. I am perfectly capable of operating within these circumstances as they do not effect how I operate."

"It...I..." Joker stuttered, sighing as he rubbed his temples in exasperation, "EDI, if you want to be more like a human, you have to start acting like one. Which means taking what I say by its principle. I-"

"Wait," came Shala's voice, and all eyes turned to the quarian admiral in shock, forgetting that herself and Gerrel were there, the former reaching for a sidearm, "Is that an...that's an  _AI_! Keelah!" She almost leapt back, Gerrel coming to stand infront of her defensively as he moved to unholster his pistol...

...only to have his view blocked by Garrus, who grabbed the admiral by the wrist and shook his head, "Two words, admiral: Friendly AI. She's on our side, and has saved our asses more times than I care to count. You're perfectly safe. If she's in league with the geth, we'll soon know." He added that last part more of a dry retort than any serious comment. He trusted EDI with his life, and knew she wouldn't betray them. Her betrayal of Cerberus was only proof of that.

Gerrel seemed satisfied and lowered his pistol, holstering it, but Shala seemed intent on hiding behind her fellow admiral, still not trusting it. Garrus simply rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand as he turned back into the cockpit.

"-I understand now, Jeff," he returned in time to hear EDI conclude, "I shall note this for later use. I-"

"Guys, this is just fascinating. Really. A truly beautiful tale of a puppet that wants to be a real boy, but uh, don't we have more...important issues to be worrying about other than EDI's quest for sentience?" Kasumi piped up, pointing out the viewscreen, pointedly ignoring Marcus' frozen stance; fists clenched at his side and deep in thought, "Like...oh, I don't know...the fate of an entire  _species_ being decided above Rannoch?"

"Right. Of course. Silly us," Joker replied, leaning back in his seat, "Uh...well, EDI...what do we do? We can't just thunder in."

"That is correct, although I believe there is only one solution, although its success will vary," EDI stated, bringing up a line of code that flickered past at the speed of light; something which only she could process, "During my talks with Legion, and through common knowledge brought on by Tali, I have learnt alot about the geth consensus and how it operates. As we all know, geth have primitive intelligence as a single solitary unit, but when grouped together, they are able to distribute data colloboratively, along with intelligence and processing power, and the more there are, the more tactically aware, intelligent and powerful they are. This is why the Reaper code is so effective; of course, a geth by itself would still be intelligent, but grouped together, they pose an incredibly powerful force. This is how the consensus works."

"Interesting EDI, but I'm not seeing where this all connects," Garrus dryly replied, "The more porn geth share, the smarter they are. The closer they are, the stronger they are. Fantastic. But  _how_ does that save the quarians?"

"I believe the human phrase is 'if you let me finish, I'll tell you,'" EDI replied, cutting the turian off. Garrus shrugged, crossing his arms as he listened intently. The whole noticed how Marcus seemed to turn his head slightly as he listened, while also musing intensely, "It helps us because Legion also told me that the geth seperate their servers into seperate clusters. Due to the geth not using conventional naming practices, I chose to, based on Legion's name, to use ancient roman military names; a cluster of 5,000 geth programs is a Contubernium. A cluster of 50,000 geth programs is a Centuria. A cluster of 500,000 geth programs is a Legio. A cluster of 5,000,000 geth programs is a Primus. And it continues from there. There are also seperate servers for battlegroups and fleets. When connected and distributing the data, in this case, they are all transmitting the Reaper code to each other, it leaves a trace of tight beam radiation that isn't easily detectable, but can be if one scans hard enough. And I..." it took her a few seconds, but she responded after one simple tap of her console, "...have just tapped into the tight-beam linking all ten of the Primus servers currently operating the geth navy."

"Uh...still lost," Joker coughed, rubbing the back of his head with a weak laugh, "...humor the dense idiot. What does this mean?"

"It means she can cut off the transmission of the Reaper code to the geth ships in orbit of Rannoch," Marcus added, turning to the group with a weary look, "The geth will return to how they were before the upgrades. They'll be vulnerable to the quarians once more, just as before."

"Exactly," came a new voice, and all eyes turned to Samantha, who leaned against a bulkhead in the corner. She blushed upon all the attention, but quickly recovered as she continued, scratching her scalp, "Although I doubt we can just keep that going. The geth wouldn't be so foolish as to just leave their servers so vulnerable like that. All it would take is one cyber attack and they'd cripple the consensus permanently. They would be prepared for that."

"Specialist Traynor is correct," EDI replied, "Which is why I am waiting for your orders, Shepard. Once this attack is initiated, I estimate the geth will counteract my virus, overwhelm it and begin transmitting again in ten minutes."

Marcus nodded, "Ten minutes is all we need."

Gerrel nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and straightening it, "This is the opportunity we need. Once that virus is up, I'll order my ships to destroy what's left quickly and efficien-"

"You'll do no such  _ **thing**_ _,_ " Marcus hissed, turning to his uncle-in-law with a feral look in his eyes, "You've done enough to fuck this up already. From here on out, we are solving this bullshit  _my way._  And maybe then we'll actually resolve this catastrophe you've led your people into."

Gerrel snorted, shaking his head, "If you think you can-"

 _ **"I will not let you destroy the quarian people with your stupidity and arrogance!"**_ he snarled, moving within inches of Gerrel's face. For an instant, people thought he would punch the man, but he managed to hold back, instead giving a low growl, "You will stand down, Gerrel. When we get there, the quarians will make best speed for the relay and  _get out of the system._  And from  _there_ we will decide what happens."

Gerrel was too shocked to respond, and before Shala could raise her voice, Marcus shot her a glare, which shut her up instantly. Turning away from them, he waved a dismissive hand, "I expected better from you. I believed you would be better than the Council; just a bit smarter. But it seems not everyone can let go of their past," he sighed, ignoring the burning in his throat as he turned to Joker, "Full military thrust, Joker. Get us in the middle and start sending comm bursts; I want the Machina found," he turned to EDI, "Once we're within one million kilometers EDI, you let the virus loose. I'll tell the quarian fleet to head for the relay while we found the Machina. I'm not leaving until I'm sure Tali is with the Fleet."  _Or until I have a body to bury._

A chorus of affirmatives rang through the cockpit, and Marcus heard none of them.

His thoughts were solely on Tali alone.

Was she even still alive?

**{Loading...}**

_July 3, 2186_

_1710 hours._

_Main Compartment, Hyena-Class Lifeboat, Migrant Fleet, Tikkun System, In Orbit over Rannoch, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard oso Machina, Commander Igra'Trasp oso Machina, Acting Quartermaster Gunner Kenn'Raan oso Machina._

She had left her fate in the hands of the ancestors. They guided her fate. The fate of her surviving crew. She hoped Kal and Madi were alive. She heard the rest of her surviving crew was  _alive._ She hoped Kenn would make it. She hoped Igra would survive, despite the woman's eccentric personality. She hoped to see Junior again. And most of all, to see Marcus again. How much she missed him was too much for any one being to comprehend, but there was alot of pent up love waiting to be spilled, and she hoped she got to see him one more time.

She closed her eyes tightly, running her thumb along the jagged edge of her wedding ring under the suit; even under her armoured combat suit, she could feel it. She smiled slightly at feeling it, losing herself in the memories of her wedding as she lay there, hoping to fall asleep. And hoping beyond all hope that someone would find them...and the geth wouldn't shoot them down...

_"I, Marcus'Shepard vas Normandy, take you as my wife, to love you, to cherish you, and protect you until death do us part. Keelah Se'lai."_

"Keelah Se'lai," she whispered under her breath.

"Ma'am?" Igra asked with a frown, placing a hand on Tali's shoulder, although she still didn't open her eyes. It was another one of those times she was glad to have a mask on, because she didn't want Igra to notice the tears travelling down her cheeks, or her muffled sniff, "There's no need for that. We'll see the homeworld soon."

She took a shuddering sigh, wishing she could wipe away her drying tears, and turned to Igra with a smile, "I...I know, Igra. It just...its nothing. Just getting lost in memories." She turned to Kenn, who did not even bother to hold in his weeping. The poor kid.

"You'll be okay, Kenn," Tali cooed, reaching over and tapping his leg, causing the terrified quarian to look back up at her, "Everything'll be just-"

All three of them yelped in perfect order as their pod gave a loud screech, followed by it quaking. They had hit something, and  _hard._

Physics and gravity took over, with the pod rolling over and over, blurring Tali's vision as her body was thrown around and against the harness; something she would likely get alot of bruises from afterwards. Kenn cried out in surprise, while Igra simply gripped her harness tightly, while Tali tried to remain calm, despite her rapidly increasing dizziness.

After several seconds of torturously slow rolling, the pod came to rest, giving a final clang. Whatever they had landed on, it was made of solid metal and because they had rolled along it continously, and not bouncing off of it in random tandem, meant they had entered an artificially gravitated environment...likely the inside of a hangar.

Unfortunately for the occupants not everything was perfect, and their pod had landed on its side, meaning Tali's head was leaning uncomfortably to the left, towards the hatch. She groaned, cracking her neck as she tried to gain her bearings, hearing Igra and Kenn do the same. Surprise and shock however quickly gave way to panic.

They were in a ship. And gathering how far they were able to crash inside, it was too large to be a quarian vessel.

They were inside a geth ship.  _Oh keelah..._

Igra must have reached the same conclusion, because she was already trying to tear open her harness. Unfortunately, the metal cage would not give way, jammed up due to the crash. Kenn had better luck, although the quarian was soon wishing he hadn't, as his release was marked a second later by a loud thud, and a cry of shock. Tali didn't need to look to know what had happened.

She managed to unclip her own harness alot more calmly. The confirmation of her bruises was confirmed when her muscles gave a throb of pain, and she groaned as she had to pause for a moment and twist her arms, hearing them crack and relax. Entering combat mode, which given their current situation, was paramount. Her hand went to her back, checking that her plasma shotgun was there, and then quickly checked her hip, her fingers slipping into the familiar grip of her phalanx pistol. She sighed in relief, glad they hadn't been damaged or knocked off from the crash. She always wore her weapons, even if it was just during a naval engagement; best to be ready for anything.

She turned to Igra, who was still struggling with her harness. Noting her distress, she grabbed her shoulder and squeezed, her attempts ceasing as she turned to look at the admiral. With a nod, Tali brought up her omni-tool, the orange glow feeling strangely relaxing. She accessed her plasma torch app and quickly brought it to life, watching it spark and sputter from its edge as she brought the tip to Igra's harness.

After a few moments of plasmatic sparking and hissing, both harness latches were melted in two, allowing Igra to pull it clear of her shoulders and free herself, only for her body to be thrown into Tali. She managed to swing her omni-tool out of the way in time to stop herself from gutting Igra, watching her commander as she landed next to Kenn, groaning loudly. Tali merely watched, shaking her head as she disengaged her omni-tool, barely noticing the hole of melted hull that she had caused with her swing.

From her position, it wasn't a long fall, and because she was actually planning on it, she managed to execute it fairly well; her legs extended and feet curled out and ready for landing. She hit the ground hard, but because of her well prepared jump, she barely felt it, and with the precision of a battle-hardened SpecOps operative, she whipped her shotgun out, moving into a crouch as she watched the hatch intently.

Softly, she whispered, "Kenn, Igra, talk to me. Status."

"Kenn's twisted his ankle. Nothing too serious," Igra reported, sounding perfectly fine and close; good, that meant she was upright, "As for me, I'm a bit shaken, but I'll be okay. Where do you think we are?"

"Lack of gravity in our landing means we are either planetside or in a hangar, and the latter seems more likely because we're not close enough for reentry, and even if we were and did, we'd feel it. That leaves a hangar. Amount of room allowed for crash means its wide open; can't be quarian. Igra, that only leaves us one option, and its not good," Tali told her, gulping slightly, trying to wet her lips.  _I don't even know where to start in terms of fighting our way off a geth ship...and we don't even know what type. Landing in a hangar suggests heavy cruiser and above, and I don't like our chances at escaping a ship of that class or weight._

Igra nodded, but Tali still didn't turn to her, trying to think all the possible combat scenarios through her head. She had a shotgun and a pistol, as well as one terrifed quarian with a sprained ankle and probably dying already of open air exposure as well as Igra, who had limited combat experience in the field. That left just Tali to fend for them. Again, she had a shotgun and pistol, but she also had her omni-tool; an overload program, her combat drone Chiktika, and a dozen other applications at her disposal. Her suit had special purpose combat readouts, with an expanded motion tracker, and her armoured body would be able to suffer a few geth pulse rifle shots, although not many.

Overall, it wasn't looking particularly viable for them. But anything was preferable to staying cooped up in here, waiting for the geth to pry them out. She had to do  _something._

_Marcus wouldn't just sit here. He'd fight._

_I'll fight too. I'm a Shepard. That's what we do._

The thought allowed a small grin to tug at her lips, and she shouldered her shotgun with new grown confidence, opening her omni-tool to key the pod hatch, "Igra, I want you to pick up Kenn and take cover behind me. I'm going to take point, scout it out. I'll send Chiktika ahead and feed her visuals to mine so we know what we're up against. She'll be the vanguard; once I know what we're facing, I'm going to fight forward. We're in a hangar, so they should have a fighter ready. If they do, I'll move in and we can hijack it. If not...we'll find another way out of here."

"I don't want to die..." Kenn mumbled, having finally woken up. Although by how slurred his words were, he wouldn't be for long.

Igra soothed him with a slight purr, "Be calm, Kenn'Raan pav Rannoch. We are almost home. You will not die. You have yet to see the desert plains. Think of those plains. Think of the songs our ancestors sang of them. Imagine yourself lying on your back, bathing in Tikkun's rays, your face uncovered...think of that. Because one day, that  _will_ happen. Look at me, Kenn..."

Igra's thoughts echoed that of Tali's. Of all quarians. They all dreamt of the homeworld, and here they were...

...their blood spilling into its atmosphere, poisoning it.

She growled and then took a deep breath, bringing back her old hatred of the geth; the one that had died with Tali'Zorah vas Neema. But now she was bringing it back. For that one instant, Tali'Zorah vas Neema was back. And she was going to use all her hatred of her people's creation give birth to a new fury. One that wanted to  _survive._

_Ancestors, I'm ready._

_Keelah Se'lai._

She keyed her omni-tool one final time, watching the hatch shoot open. For her, it was like time had slowed down, except for her. In the same second it took for the hatch to expose them to the hangar, she had rapidly summoned Chiktika, throwing her holographic ball out into the open to activate it.

"Go Chiktika, good girl!" she ordered, watching its POV camera appear in the top left of her screen. Still using her omni-tool, she quickly sent the orders she wanted. She was in such a haze that she didn't even know what she was doing, "Give 'em hell, Chiktika! Shock 'em!"

" _Dios mio_!" she swore she heard, the voice sounding pained and shocked at the same time. But she quickly shook it off as delusion brought on by her longing to see her husband again. Still, her translator had detected the usage of english. Again, it was probably just the geth fooling around with her.  _Maybe Legion told them about my marriage to Marcus. Maybe they're mocking me...can geth do that? Do they have the capacity for that? Isn't that...'an emotional and chemical reaction?'_

It didn't take long for Chiktika to begin its job and Tali steeled one more breath before leaping from the hatch, shotgun raised, "For Rannoch! Keelah Se'lai!" She didn't need to wait to take aim; she found the nearest body and fired, sending a molten hot jet of plasma arcing towards her intended target.

She felt something loom behind her and based on instinct, she sent the elbow holding the trigger swinging back, impacting the geth's chest. She heard a grunt, and her enemy doubled over. Ignoring the surprisingly organic reaction as another delusional impasse, she ducked low and sweep the synthetic's legs out from under it, before standing up and taking aim with her shotgun at its chest...

...and then suddenly finding her shotgun wrenched from her grip, clattering uselessly to the ground as she was tackled into the steel deck.  _That's odd. Geth don't...tackle. Maybe its the upgrades..._

She quickly twisted around and did the only thing she could think to do; she headbutted her assailant. She heard a shocked cry of pain before drawing her mask back (thankfully uncracked) and hooked the geth across the flashlight (although she swore she saw a mandible). In a flash, her enemy was off of her and she brought her knee up inbetween its legs, and the creature was finished in seconds. Wait, why did she do that? Geth don't have...testicles...so what was the need for that kind of action?

Maybe it was her delusions bringing them on.

Moving into a combat roll, she snatched up her shotgun and moved back into crouch position, taking aim at the next enemy she could find...

...and found a wall of biotics rushing to meet her.

_Keelah, they have-_

Her shotgun vanished, and before she could do anything else, her body was pinned against a support strut (or what felt like one), body coated in the blue tendrils of dark energy. She tried to move her head, but found that she couldn't. And in her stupor, she was just able to make out words.

"Tali, stop!"

_It knows me. No, its just a trick. Don't let it-_

Then she saw it. The ceiling. The lighting. The way it was angled, the design. It wasn't geth architecture. The elevated windows overlooking the hangar were strangely familiar, and as she lowered her look, she saw it. Painted on the walls. Clear as day. The most relaxing thing she would ever see.

Earth. Surrounded by painted stars, a pair of wings stretching out from underneath it, as if to touch space itself. And below it, two words Tali's translator made out quite easily.

_Systems Alliance._

Her entire body immediately relaxed at the sight, filling her with immense relief.  _Help is here. But what is an Alliance vessel doing in the middle of a warzone?_

It was then that she looked down and saw it. The elevator. The consoles lined around it. The overall set up. And then the face peering at her, still holding her in the tight grasp of his biotics, but seemed to be relaxing now that she had. She then noticed the asari next to him, the hooded woman beside her...no, it couldn't be...

But it was. It fit the description. And she'd remember this shuttle bay anywhere.

It was the Normandy.  _The_ Normandy.

"Kaidan?" she managed, eyes widening in surprise, "Keelah, is that really you?"

The man sighed in relief, finally releasing his hold on her and letting his biotics dim to nothing. A light smile graced his lips, as she came to land on her feet gently, the quarian peering at him with a rapidly growing smile of her own, "Its me, Tali. The one and only. Welcome home."

She turned to the asari next to him, her grin widening even further, "Liara!" she turned to the hooded woman beside her, happiness flooding through the more familiar faces she saw. "Kasumi!" So many faces. Could this really be real? The Normandy coming to save her and her crew? All her friends in the one place? It seemed too good to be true...

"Yeah, I think I already got my greeting..." wheezed Garrus, Tali turning to see the turian limping towards her slightly, his legs criss-crossing with every footfall. It was a funny position; he was cupping his cheek while putting priority on the area inbetween his legs, as if he had been-

_...In a flash, her enemy was off of her and she brought her knee up inbetween its legs..._

"Nice to see you too, Tali," Garrus greeted, barely keeping the look of pain on his features absent in his greeting, "Although I imagined I'd be having a much more...joyous reunion."

"Garrus, I am  _so_ sorry," Tali replied, looking genuinely guilty as she reached down and grabbed her shotgun, causing the turian to almost flinch for a second. She couldn't help but smile at that; her shotgun threats had had an affect afterall. Holstering it on her back, she just sighed, "I thought we had been captured by the geth, and I sort've just reacted."

"Gee, she confused me for a geth," Garrus whimpered, shaking his head as he grumbled, "I can't be that ugly..."

"Well..." Tali began, trailing off.

"There's no doubt," Kasumi butted in, grinning from ear to ear, "Garrus Vakarian, he's so ugly that quarians are seeing geth everytime they're around him!"

"Hilarious," Garrus remarked dryly, shaking his head at the two giggling women, "You two are a real riot. Should start a sitcom."

Tali, managing to control her laughing, frowned, turning to Kaidan, "Wait, how about the person I elbowed? I recall-"

"Ah, that would have been Keeling," the man replied, nodding to the fiery-haired woman who walked into the room wearing a basic sweatshirt and tightpants, a white hand towel tucked inbetween as she sat on a couch, barely seeming fazed, "You won't have met her. She's a recent addition to the crew."

Even as Tali examined Keeling, she remembered she had fired a bolt of plasma at someone.  _Plasma._

She whorled to face Kaidan, panic in her expression as she watched Igra and Kenn emerge from her pod, "Wait, I shot someone! Keelah, I shot-"

"-me," Kaidan added, pointing to himself, grinning, "Luckily for you, I always have my kinetic barriers with me. I don't appreciate boiled guts."

"Anybody going to take a look at me?" came another voice, one she swore she had heard before, "Her damn drone  _zapped_ me!"

Tali turned to see a heavily-muscled human form emerge, wearing a white singlet with the Alliance logo on the front, nursing what looked to be an electrified hand, wincing in pain everytime he touched the burns.

As if summoned by the man's complaints, Chiktika appeared, her orange drone coming to hover by her side, as if satisfied by its mischief. With a soothing coo, something others found weird, she patted the drone, making sure her hand didn't fall through the interface, "That's a good girl. You get some rest, Chiktika," with that, it deactivated, the ball falling into her palm before she relocated it into one of her pockets.

She turned to the man, smiling behind her mask, despite nobody being able to see it, "I am Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy,  _original_ chief engineer," she was careful to place emphasis on 'original,' given that she had been absent from the frigate for seven months, and someone had likely replaced her at that point out of operational necessity.  _They better not have messed up my engine room. Keelah, if any bosh'tet has messed with my schematics and runtimes-_

"Second Lieutenant James Vega ma'am, and I'm quite charmed," the man saluted, "And would be more if you hadn't zapped me."

"Oh, grow up you big baby," Kasumi teased, "Its just a burn."

"A painful on-"

"Suck it up."

"Shut it, Esteban!"

"Only when you do, Mr. Vega."

All these new voices were quite different. She didn't think there would be that many more additions to the crew.

Garrus approached her, smiling as he stopped an inch from her, "Its good to have you back, Tali. Spirits know how much this ship, and all of us, have missed you. Hasn't been the same without you. Why didn't you tell us you were out here though? You could have at least let us know you were alive and well. Mar- _we_ were all worried," the turian made it a point to look disappointed, crossing his arms.

She sighed, rubbing her mask, "I would have, and I wanted to. I really did. But when the fleet entered a state of war, it was made a general order for the entire Fleet to cease all outbound communications. We were effectively adopting an isolationalist policy. We weren't allowed contact from the outside, and we weren't allowed to contact anyone on the outside. And as much as I missed you guys, I couldn't disobey a direct order. I was more helpful as an admiral then I was exiled. I'm truly sorry."

Garrus nodded, slapping her back, "Its okay, Tali, I understand.  _We_ understand. We were just...worried, that's all. Its been a long month."

She nodded, sighing and silence fell for a moment. Then Tali remembered their situation and widened her eyes, turning back to the turian, grabbing both of his shoulders, "Keelah, my crew are still out there! Kal, Madi, all of them! You need to go back and rescue them! We can't leave without my crew!"

"Already being done," Kaidan informed her, drawing her attention as she twisted her head to face him, "The Fleet's sending pickets to quickly pick them up even as we speak; within the ten minute window given, of course."

"The Fleet?" she shook her head, laughing bitterly, "No, I don't think you understand. My people can't possibly pick them up! We're taking heavy fire from all sides-"

" _Were_ taking heavy fire until a few minutes ago," Garrus reassured her, grinning at her look of shock, "EDI came up with a brilliant plan. You can ask her for the details later, but I'll tell you this: the Migrant Fleet is making best speed for the relay, and should be out of the system by the time the geth are backup to full power. And your crew will be with them."

She let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived when she noticed Igra out of the corner of her eye, "Kenn! He needs medical attention!" she turned back to Garrus, "He has a suit breach! His mask is broken!"

"Shit," the turian cursed, turning to Vega, "Pick him up and get him to Chakwas and Michel!" he turned to Kaidan in an instant, not letting Vega argue, "Radio ahead and tell Chakwas to prepare a sterile room! Say she's got a quarian patient heading her way with a shattered mask!"

Tali watched the man named James sweep Kenn out of Igra's arms casually and without effort before the great big tank of a man rushed towards the elevator, charging like a krogan on a blood rage. They were among friends here, it seemed.

But even as Tali watched them go, she couldn't shake the feeling that she felt Kenn wouldn't make it. The amount of time he had been exposed...ancestors have mercy...

"He's going to be just fine, Tali," Garrus assured her, a small smirk on his face, "You know how Chakwas is."

"True, although I didn't know Michel was on the ship...?" she trailed off, leaving it as an obvious question for the turian to answer.

"Another recent development, I assure you," the turian quipped, chuckling as he turned back to Kaidan, "Same with Kaidan actually. Only came onboard about over a week ago. He-" The man she had come to know as a brother seemed to stop, looking over her shoulder at someone. Whoever it was, it had a profound effect on him, but his grin only widened, slinking back slightly, "Although I'm sure you don't care about any of that." He nodded off to the right, over Tali's shoulder, almost sheepishly, before turning his head away.

Tali could only frown as she slowly turned around, her frown remaining until her eyes landed on just who Garrus was talking about.

There he stood, almost as exactly as he had been all those months ago. Tall, stocky frame; heavily built muscle causing his shirt to stretch, showing off his muscular form. Strong, five-fingered hands hung at his sides. His powerful legs only added to his height, where he was almost at ends with most krogan, but nowhere near as tall as Grunt or Wrex. But even after seeing all that, it was his face that changed her opinion.

He was nowhere near what he had looked all those months ago, and she had to hold back a gasp.

Where originally he had medium stubble lining his jaw, the man had elected to let it completely grow out. A thick bush now covered his chin and lower jawline, also moving up and over the area below his nose, but above his upper lip. Overall, he looked very intimidating. It wasn't a mane, but it was a pretty thick, black mass. Red rings hung under his eyes showing a lack of sleep, and his usually piercing eyes showed signs of wearniess and sadness. The look terrified her. The only thing that even looked remotely the same was his slightly cropped black hair. The very look made her distraught, but she held back any emotions as she simply looked at him.

Marcus was there. Alive. And within  _reach._

One emotion came out on top in that moment.  _Happiness._

But despite looking at her, Marcus made no moves. He remained where he was, standing next to Kaidan, looking at her blankly. A swarm of emotions likely went through his head as it did hers, and despite her wanting to chastize him for not making a move, she couldn't: because she just stood there as well, staring blankly at him, waiting for any sign of recognition, of movement.

Seconds dragged into a full a minute, and still, he just looked at her. But as it happened, she watched his battle of emotions quickly resolve itself, and she could only see one emotion in those eyes.

Longing. He wasn't moving because he didn't know if he should.

Without even thinking, she opened her arms, welcoming him. But for a second, he didn't flinch, simply looking at her and her wide arms, as if she were some strange creature he had never seen before.

And then, like a flash of lightning, he was marching towards her, closing the gap instantly.

All the air blew out of her as she felt his arms wrap around her tightly, pressing her mask to his shoulder and lifting her up slightly off the ground, but not too much. She heard him let out an exhale of breath, surprised that he had been holding it in this entire time. And despite how tightly she was pressed to his chest, she hugged back, her slimmer, but still well-built, arms wrapping around his broader frame, nuzzling his neck as she sighed happily. She was with him again. Nothing could ruin this.

Nothing was said, and noone around them dared interrupt, and others even averted their eyes to give them privacy. This was a reunion that was long overdue. They would hold their peace.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, Marcus pulled away from her, and so did she, but then his hands landed on her waist, holding her as he placed his forehead against her mask and looked into her eyes. As a result, she looked back into his, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek. He looked so...lost. But when he looked at her...it was like...all of that went away. He looked  _hopeful_ even...

And then, he was moving. He turned away, tearing his head away from her hand. The sudden movement disappointed her, and she looked on as he simply moved towards the elevator...

...and Tali moved along with him, against her personal accord.

Frowning, she looked down to see his five fingers wrapped inbetween her three, dragging her along with him towards the elevator. So when she saw this, she steadied her pace until it was even with his, smiling slightly.

Marcus wasn't going to leave his crew completely in the dark however, barking orders as he reached the elevator, hitting the console to summon it, "Garrus, you're in command. Me and Tali will be in my- _our_ cabin. We are not to be disturbed; make sure the admirals know this. And order Joker to have us regroup with the quarians in the Dholen System."

He hadn't even waited for a response, stepping into the elevator the moment the doors gave them leeway, Tali quickly joining his side. It was as the elevator rose towards the top of the ship that her mind caught up. Wait, what was Liara doing here? Wasn't she the Shadow Broker? What was an N7 and an Alliance marine doing on this ship? How did Marcus get it back after it was impounded?

Then she remembered the blue and black shuttles, the darker shuttle bay, the armoury station, and the Alliance logo plastered on the walls instead of the Cerberus golden hexagon. The Alliance had claimed the Normandy, which meant they had completely retrofitted it to their desire.

_Keelah, if they have messed with my engineering station, I will kill those bosh'tets. I had it tweaked to the exact setting I wanted it, and in khelish too! It took me ages to have EDI translate everything into khelish! A translator can only do so much, it isn't infallible!_

Just what else had been changed on the Normandy?

What had the Alliance done to her home?

**{Loading...}**

_July 3, 2186_

_1728 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for the Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard oso Machina._

As expected, Tali knew the elevator ride would be slow; it always had been, even on the SR-1. Although, she'd admit, the predecessor's speed was alot worse; this was one was just faster enough to be noticable, but still  _too_  slow.  _You'd think with all our technology the Alliance could design faster elevators._ So she could only inwardly sigh as they waited for their ascent to complete.

She stepped out onto the deck when they finally did arrive, and smiled when she saw that the Alliance, thankfully, hadn't removed the decontamination unit Marcus had built-in. So when she tapped the interface, activating the decon as she went, when smiled happily when EDI spoke, "Decontaminating the room for you, Mrs. Shepard. Welcome back."

She couldn't help but smile, rubbing the back of her hood, "Its nice to see you again, EDI."

"The feeling is mutual," the AI replied before speaking again, "Decontamination complete. I will not disturb you further. Enjoy your night."

"Thank you, EDI," it was so surreal. Tali was back on the Normandy like she had only left it yesterday, and she could finally see the person she loved so much.

As the door opened, she did what she normally did; she reached up a hand, undid the clasps, and tugged her mask from its moorings, a hiss signalling its removal. Lowering it, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath through her nose, and letting it out from her mouth. Opening them again, she relished the cold air on her skin, smiling warmly.

"It feels good to be back," Tali stated. When she got no response from Marcus, it was her turn to realize that Marcus actually hadn't walked into the cabin with her. Frowning, she searched the cabin for him, but he simply wasn't there. There was only one place he could be in.

She turned, trying to see where he was-

-only for a wall of human to pick her up and almost slam her back into the bulkhead, his lips crashing against hers.

Now  _that_ was a welcome surprise. Her eyes were wide open from the suddeness of it for a moment, simply boring into Marcus' skull as he kissed her desperately, already able to feel his tongue trying to break through her closed lips. But then she melted into it, relishing the old, almost forgotten, contact. The contact that made her feel  _alive._

She didn't hear her mask clatter to the ground. She didn't even care. All she did was close her eyes and moan, hands reaching up to grasp his shoulders, opening her mouth to allow his tongue passage. Their tongues locked and danced, Marcus continuing to use his body to pin her against the wall, but she didn't mind at all and actually wrapped her thighs around his hips, letting him hold her from the ground.

His hand reached up, pulling down her hood and letting her hair flow freely, the same hand gliding through the silky strands with tender loving care before cupping her cheek, his focus completely on her. But his kiss wasn't loving or caring or passionate. It was desperate, lustful...full of that damn  _longing._

So after a minute, and the kiss subsided and they had to part to breathe, Tali simply looked at him as he drew in long breaths, his forehead still against hers as he left little pecks along her face; lips, nose, eyebrows, her forehead, her scalp...he made sure nowhere on her head was left untouched, even nibbling her ear slightly, which caused her to giggle softly.

Finally, he looked her in the eyes, letting out a sigh, "I missed you so much..."

Her heart went out to him. All this time, and he had nothing to even remember her by except a photo on his desk. No messages, no presents, not even the odd visit (not that the Alliance would have allowed any of those), nothing. He had essentially been left alone for a whole seven months, with only one of those being action-packed enough to keep him busy. But even the war, a pan-galactic war of this scale? It was enough to drive anyone insane, and only those with those they loved to keep them going could prevail.

He hadn't had her at his side.

She reached up a hand, then brought it down, mumbling curses. Unlatching the armor plating, she finally reached the seals and frustratingly yanked it free from her hand, letting it fall to the floor. Her hand now exposed, she reached up and cradled his cheek, pale grey fingers stroking it sympathetically. He was so warm, she noticed. Warm enough that her colder hand actually started to heat up from touching his skin.

"I know, and I missed you too..." she whispered, continuing her stroking, "...but you know what? I'm here now. Keelah, I'm here. We're back. You made a promise,  _I_ made a promise, and we both kept it.  _We're back together._ And I am  _never_ leaving you again." She had to pause after saying that and had some hesitance, but she did not let Marcus know that.  _There's no guarantee that my stay here is even permanent. My people do need me...I'm an Admiral. I can't just whisk away with him like in the old days. I have responsibilities now. Seventeen million responsibilities._

He actually smiled at that, and this one reached his eyes, which made it all worth it, "I know...and I can't tell you how happy I was to see you walk out of that pod...I thought...I was terrified that you'd-"

"SSssshhhh..." she quietly cooed, bringing his head in and placing it on her shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck calmingly as she held him, "Its alright. I'm here, yol'tiya. I'm  _here_."

She heard him mumble something, and she frowned. His face was pressed against her neck, and she couldn't hear what he was saying because of it. Plus, she was confused at how he could find her comfortable when she was essentially wearing combat armor, "Pardon?"

Suddenly, she felt warm lips press against her neck. The suit numbed the feeling, but she could feel it all the same, "I  _need_ you...after so long, I...I need you, Tali."

She smiled at him, pulling his head and leaning it against hers, giving her best smile, while lacing her voice with seduction, "I need you as well, Marcus. Its been too long. I need to feel your skin against mine... _right now._ "

He didn't need any further prompting. The lips on her neck lifted, and she was almost disappointed by the sudden lack of contact, only to have that alleviated when those same lips wrapped around hers once more. Another moan, and this time her uncovered hand moved up and grabbed the back of his head, ensuring he could not break the kiss unless she wanted him to.

She began to subconsciously gyrate against him, her core aching for release. She didn't even notice it, too enraptured in her kiss. Her body just moved of its own accord; her armoured chest pressing against his unarmoured one. The lack of contact was maddening.

Eventually, against her will, he broke the kiss, chuckling slightly as he noted what was between them, "I see you've given yourself a new look, Miss vas Normandy."

That nickname of his still managed to send goosebumps up her skin, or make her blush. She smiled then, realizing that she was indeed wearing a different suit from her old one; her new one was definitely more militaristic. It also made her look more like a warrior.

"Do you like it?" She asked slyly, grinning up at him.

He pretended to look like he was deciding, and then shrugged, smiling back at her, matching her grin, "I much prefer the old one; this one is a bit too...bulky looking. Although I must say...your ass looks alot bigger in this one."

She smiled back, sighing slightly, "Well sorry, you're stuck with this suit. My old suit was on the Machina and likely went down with the ship. Sorry..."

He looked crestfallen at that, but quickly shrugged as his hands slid down to her hips, squeezing her buttocks, causing her to hum slightly, "Well, we'll just have to make do with what we've got then, won't we...?"

She laughed, giving him a little peck on the lips, "I think you talk too much, Marcus'Shepard. I think you need to relieve me of this suit. Get to work..."

"You're very demanding, Mrs. Shepard," he tsked, rubbing the small of her back. Her body arched into his hands by instinct, closing her eyes as a sigh burst through her lips, "Almost too demanding."

"Shut up, bosh'tet," she snapped playfully, hands grabbing the hem of his shirt tightly, "And get me out of this damn  _suit_."

"As you command, m'lady," he replied snarkily, his smile everpresent. He hadn't felt this consistently happy in...well, half a year. His hands immediately moved to the rest of her helmet, already knowing, quite expertly, where all the suit latches and seals were. Finding them, he clipped them open and Tali watched as the lower jaw section of her helmet, the one involving the vocalizer, was removed, and dumped unceremoniously behind them. Unlike the mask, it was pure metal, so it wouldn't shatter.

He didn't stop there. Next he removed the golden collar around her neck, letting the pieces drop as the nape was exposed, allowing him to lean in and softly kiss her neck, trailing them all over the exposed area, occassionally flicking out his tongue to add to the sensations. Tali, meanwhile, was in absolute bliss at the ministrusations, flashes of pleasure flicking through her eyes. Months of being trapped in a suit had made her forget just what it was like to be like this.

For her however, it wasn't enough. She stopped him, reaching around to his back and grabbing the edges of his shirt, and tugging upwards. He only ceased his motions to hold his arms up, allowing her to yank it free and throw it away, revealing his muscled body. With a satisfied coo, she unlatched her other glove and removed it, both of her uncovered hands landing on his chest as they began to subconsciously explore every nook and cranny of his well-toned abdomen and pectorals.

Marcus, on the otherhand, didn't feel that was fair, and pulled away with a smile, "That's not fair, Shepard. Why should my chest be uncovered, but not yours?"

"Because I said so, Shepard," she teased back, reaching up and nibbling his ear, simultaneously licking it. It was then that she remembered a certain thing she had done to him before their eventual night together, and with a gulp, she pulled away, motioning for him to let go of her.

While confused, Marcus still complied to her wishes and stepped away from the wall, allowing her to stand, legs unwrapping themselves from his waist. Placed down, she wasted no time in collapsing to her knees, hands moving to his belt buckle and beginning to unfasten it.

"You sure about this?" Marcus asked with concern, his lust and teasing personality gone as he suddenly became worried, "Its been seven-"

"Don't underestimate me," she remarked, managing to get his belt free and tossing it to the floor as she began to tug on his pants, "I'm stronger than I look."

His pants came loose quite easily without the belt to hold them in place, and they fell to his ankles, leaving just his boxers. She could see a rapidly expading bulge and she grinned, looking up at him as she let him know that she had seen his member, "Excited, are we?"

"Can you blame me?"

She didn't answer that, simply pulling down his boxers and watching his large organ pop free, still extending. She didn't even wait for it to get there before her left hand wrapped around it, jerking lightly and listening to her husband hum in delight. One of his hand landed on the back of her head a moment later, anticipating what was to come.

She didn't disappoint. In one swift movement, she brought his manhood to her mouth, opened her lips and brought it inside, Marcus watching as his head disappeared inside her, right up to halfway. She stayed there for a moment, moaning as she closed her eyes before pulling back and then down again. She continued this movement, the hand on the back of her head encouraging her, until her head was essentially bobbing up and down on his length. All he could do was groan and hum as she pleased him.

This went on for a few minutes before her mouth parted with a wet pop, not done with him yet. She wiped her mouth clean of his precum and stood up, hand still stroking his member between them. She leaned in, whispering heatedly, "I want to be relieved of this suit and carried to the bed, Captain..."

 _How the_ _ **hell**_ _did she make that sound hot?_ He didn't even bother questioning it.

"Yes ma'am," he replied with just as much heat, and his hands reached under her thighs, lifting her up as her legs latched around his waist. Holding her, he quickly stepped out of his pants and boxers, now completely naked, and his organ bumping up against her rear. She could only giggle as she felt it, kissing him on the lips for a full second before pulling away, winking at him to urge him on. A promise of what was to come.

Still holding her, he moved towards the bed, still nuzzling her neck while one of his hands fiddled with whatever clasps he could find. He didn't get very far before he hit the bed's edge, tripping and causing Tali to fall onto her back into the sheets, Marcus landing ontop of her in a laughing fit. It quickly subsided though when he brought his lips to hers again for another brief kiss.

His five-fingered hands reached down and found all the clasps and seals holding her upper torso, wrenching them free and peeling her upper suit off; sleeves, chestplate, chest section and back all came off, landing on the floor behind them as her breasts became exposed. She almost covered them, until she remembered just who she was with.

She watched with fire in her eyes as Marcus gently picked up one of her mammaries, placing the nipple in his mouth and running his tongue along the padding. She groaned into the empty air, a hand grabbing his hair and holding it painfully tight. He just continued, totally in his own world, before moving onto the second one and repeating the same.

When he was done, his saliva was dripping down her bust. He grinned at her, and she grinned back, and that decided it. In one swift motion, he moved down and unclasped the rest of her suit; he grabbed her shotgun and pistol, clicking on the safety before tossing them away; both of them hearing them clatter across the metal ground quite loudly. He paid them no mind though, and simply removed her shinguards, then her boot knife, and finally her boots. After a few minutes of removal, she lay with him, both of them stark naked, in their bed.

She gripped the bed, relishing the feel of the silky sheets against her skin. It was an overload of euphoria, hitting her at every point at once, and it was amazing.

"You've already done me the courtesy, Mrs. Shepard," she heard Marcus murmur, and she looked down to see her legs parted, his face hovering just over her wet sex, "Allow me to return the favour."

She brokered no argument, not that she got time too, because as soon as the word was on her tongue, his own had parted her folds and plunged into her, flicking against her vaginal walls and sending shudders throughout her entire body. She jerked slightly from the contact, gasping. She jerked again as his tongue continued, her flinching slowly dissipating everytime his tongue made contact with her vagina. Usually, it would take awhile for her to reach her climax. But after so long...

She tried to keep herself from crying out, but the feel of Marcus' tongue inside her was just too much. Her hand grasped the back of his head, urging him on silently and her legs seemed to tighten around his head. As if to calm her, one of his large hands moved up and wrapped around the closest breast it could find, messaging it gently. She only cooed her agreement; coherent thought was impossible at this point, let alone speech. She just let him continue.

Eventually, the ecstasy became too much. She felt her walls tighten, clenching around the recognized presence, welcoming the organ that wasn't quite there yet. Marcus, despite the pre-juices beginning to pool at her gates, continued, satisfied that he was able to pleasure his wife. And Tali was definitely not going to object. Not when she was about to hit.

She needed something to scream into. So without even thinking, she grabbed the nearest pillow, brought it down on her chest and managed to bite down into it as she climaxed.

Her pleasure-filled scream was muffled by the pillow, but was still quite loud. Marcus easily heard it, and felt it, as her womanhood seemed to close around his tongue, ejecting its juices down and straight into his mouth. He sipped eagerly of her nectar, gathering it and swallowing all that he could. He knew he would later regret it, as he always did, as it gave him severe stomach cramps, but for now, he didn't. She tasted sweet and exotic. She tasted alien. And that would never change.

When her orgasm was finally concluded, her hand was left to stroke his head, the pillow she had captured falling onto the bed as she released her hold on it, a long line of teeth punctures in its casing. Her heavy, laboured could be heard, her body exhausted from just the one climax. Marcus, however, was quite the opposite, and he came to his knees as he wiped his mouth, gulping down the last of her juices as he came to land ontop of her, smiling down at her.

Despite her fatigue, she managed to smile back, and greeted his kiss with a deep moan. This kiss was tender and loving, not passionate and lustful. She loved it. For a moment afterwards, they simply lay there, taking a pause in their lovemaking to contemplate. Eventually, she decided it was getting too cold and nippy for her liking, and she climbed under the sheets, holding them to her chest and shuddering.

Marcus laughed at how cute her reaction was, and she simply threw him a glare, daring him to keep finding amusement out of it. He got the message quick enough, crawling over and raising the sheets just enough for him to crawl under with them with her, moving his body so it was situated between her legs, his organ bumping against her core and causing to freeze for a moment.

"You ready?" He asked. He was waiting for her.

She was not. Seven months had left her a bit unexperienced. She was still getting used to being naked with a man again, let alone making love to him. But despite what Tali thought, the wife had nodded.

He guided his manhood towards her entrance, and penetrated her in one swift thrust. She cried out for a second, arms wrapping around his frame instantly as his forehead moved against her, but she calmed down when she relaxed, her body welcoming Marcus inside.

Marcus. Inside her. Another sensation she sorely missed.

It started out fairly slow: Marcus would slowly and subtlely move his hips back and forth in a steady, stable motion, his hands pressed into the bed behind her head, forehead against hers as he closed his eyes, Tali copying the motion as they simply enjoyed the sex. Eventually, it escalated, Marcus getting faster and beginning to moan louder, getting to the point where he actually began to growl. Tali countered with her own growl, something Marcus told her was very sexy, and the sound only made him smile as he began to pick up the pace, thrusting in and out faster and harder, the heat beginning to build to boiling point. Sweat poured down their skin, and Tali's exhaustion practically evaporated.

Which allowed her to stop him, hands pressing up against his chest and stopping his motions. She couldn't help but notice Marcus' annoyed expression, and she giggled.  _He must be close to climax. Well, I shouldn't keep him._ Quickly, she pushed him off of her and onto his back, and in one rapid motion, almost too quick for Marcus to notice, she was straddling his waist, guiding his member back inside her as she took control of the lovemaking, picking herself up before plopping herself back down again, all while keeping themselves under the bedsheets, although the heat between them was probably enough to fuel the reactor on the geth super-dread.

She got faster and faster, and felt Marcus' manhood getting more tense; he was close. She eased him along the way by making her thrusts more forceful, allowing his hands to hold her hips as she increased her pace, her growls and moans prominent.

In one moment, she stopped, feeling Marcus' dick loosen as he emptied his load inside her. He probably shouldn't have, and she knew it; this wasn't their first night. They had both had Mordin's serum, which means she could get pregnant now. Which meant protection or simply not finishing inside. Still, she probably wouldn't get pregnant from this; just because he ejaculated inside her didn't guarantee pregnancy; there was a 50/50 chance that she would.

But that wasn't on her mind as she simply let Marcus fill her up, eyes closed as she sat there for a moment and let him finish his load. When he was finally done, Tali collapsed forward on his chest, smiling contentedly, his throbbing manhood still inside her.

...and began to snore.

Marcus' laughter pretty much filled the room, unable to contain his amusement. Instead of pulling out of her, as that might just wake her up, he brought the sheets up to their chests and let his head fall back, sighing as he closed his eyes and welcomed sleep.

He was out like a light. And this time, the dead gave him privacy in his dreams.

Because these dreams were of Tali. And of Junior.

A future.

**"Quite the reunion we had."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Pity it didn't last. It was all back to warfare and politics the next day."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Before you get your panties in a knot, 'super-dreadnought' is NOT a term Full-Paragon owns. Yes, he has used it (And the Meek Shall Inherit the Galaxy and Heavens Shall Tremble, which are BOTH awesome AU fanfics that I HIGHLY recommend) but he did not make the term up. I'm pretty sure the British used the term when referring to the HMS Dreadnought back in WWI when those kinds of battleships were a big thing. They called it a 'dreadnought,' although some called it a 'super-dreadnought.' That's where it originated from I think, although I might be wrong. However, 'super-dread' I did take from Full-Paragon, but not intentionally: it would get tedious for you to read, and for me to write, 'super-dreadnought' every time I refer to it, so its easier to simply say 'super-dread.' Yet again, I don't even think Full-Paragon owns that; you'd have to verify that yourself.** _

_**Next chapter is Priority: Geth Dreadnought. Like I said, the quarian/geth arc won't be as long as I'd/you'd hoped, and will likely be a maximum of six chapters. Still, I'll make them as awesome as I can (also, those six chapters include the two-parter Rannoch, with 1 for Perseus Veil, and 1 for Geth Dreadnought. So that basically leaves two chapters for side quests, which is obviously filled in with 'Rescue Koris' and 'Geth Consensus.' Still, I hope you enjoy it while it lasts.** _

_**Also, for those who are panicking about Aria's little quote last chapter, calm yourselves. I have no intention of following that stupid fucking script wall. That whole excuse for not being allowed to bring your squadmates was just bullshit: 'I want you all to myself'? What the fuck? No. I won't be doing that. Aria might say the same thing, but Marcus certainly ain't going along with it. And neither would Tali agree with it. So be calm and know that's not going to happen.** _

_**Until next time, Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	39. Cold Liberties, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard, Tali and the admirals form a plan to knock out the Reaper signal controlling the geth. The geth flagship holds the answer.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:**

**COLD LIBERTIES PART ONE**

_July 4, 2186_

_0824 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard oso Machina._

Warmth. It occupied his body like it belonged there. Encompassed him. It was a blissful, fantastic feeling, one that filled him with joy, love and contentedness.

His reentry into the real world was a quick transition, his eyes quickly opening and drinking in the light and environment of the world around him. Being a soldier, his training had long robbed him of his inability to wake up like everyone else did. Others woke up slowly and gradually; droopy eyes and aching muscles confining them to the bedsheets. But for soldiers like him, their awakening was rapid and instant; it so that they could be able to react to threats efficiently and quickly, especially if they occurred during his allotted bunking schedule.

His eyes were aimed up at the ceiling, able to look out the window situated there that gave him a clear view of space above. Before, the stars would have been warped and distorted and stretched, surrounded in the blue aura of FTL travel. Now they were steady and twinkling, meaning they had arrived in the Dholen System and holding position. And, he noted with relief, he could see the forms of quarian ships in stationary orbit in the distance, as well as one of the liveships, either the Rayya, Shellen or Bakara. It was quite a calming site, as well as relieving to see the quarians once again safe.

_Whatever's left of their fleet. Foolish idiots. Gerrel was an idiot, Xen was an idiot...damn it, Shala was an idiot! How could any of them have thought an assault on Rannoch during a galactic war was a good idea? Fucking morons!_

His negative thoughts were interrupted by the heat source ontop of him shuffling, and he could skin graze against his chest. It was then that his peripheral vision finally took notice of the strand of black hair dangling into his eyes, and he turned with a frown, nose brushing into an even larger mass of it.

Then it all clicked in his head. The warmth was a person. Lying ontop of him. Naked.

Her raven black hair was sprawled out across his face, her head neatly tucked under the crook of his neck. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, so much so that he could distinctly feel the nipples digging into his skin. The rest of her body was covered by the sheets, pulled up to her shoulders, while the person softly snored. Their skin was pale grey, and very human.

His mind was slow, but it was easy to remember just who it was, and he smiled dreamily, leaning forward to plant a firm kiss on her scalp, sighing in content. His wife. Tali'Shepard vas Norma- _vas Machina,_ admiral of the Migrant Fleet.

As he shifted, he felt the presence of his manhood still inside her from last night's...activities. He had to chuckle slightly at that, the ridiculousness of it beyond reasoning. They were finally reunited, and what was the first thing they did? Sex.

Not that he was complaining.

He moved a hand up to begin running a hand through his wife's hair, which always had an odd smell about it; a good smell. One he liked. It was sweet; barely noticable, but you could if you really concentrated.

His chuckling, however, had done more than shift Tali's body. In moments, he heard a loud yawn escape her lips, and the quarian poked her head up to look into his eyes, smiling slightly as she propped a hand on his chest, and another to keep her head up.

"Good morning," she whispered, leaning forward to give him a light peck on the lips.

He grinned back, gently guiding one of the strands in her face to curl around one ear, another cradling her cheek gently, "How was your sleep?"

"The best I've had in a while," she seemed to cease movement at that, eyes moving in self-thought before she shook her head, correcting herself, "The longest I've had in a while. Being an admiral is hard work."

"An admiral, eh?" he asked, his grin only growing.

She groaned, burying her face in his chest, as if trying to escape the usage of the term, "Don't remind me. They appointed me for the position just before the call to arms. I chose it because...well..." she looked up, eyes innocent, "...because of you. I thought of what you would do, and thought to myself 'he would want me to do it.' So I went for it. I had a higher chance of making change if I was the head of the Admiralty."

He nodded, heart swelling with pride for his wife, "I'm proud of you. Not many would have chosen the position. If Hackett came here and told me he was promoting me to head of the UGC, I'd probably refuse. One ship and its crew is all I command."

She chuckled slightly, shaking her head, "You never were the political type."

"Neither were you, if I recall."

"And I'm still not," she made clear, "I hate politics. So much work and arguing and talking and more arguing. At least quarian politics is like that anyway."

"Sounds the same of human politics," Marcus pondered, "And pretty much everyone else. The Council is a sound example of that."

"Look at us. Becoming politicians," Tali giggled, "First Wrex, now me. You know, Hackett might just make you leader of the UGC. And the Primarch might just make Garrus his successor; who knows?"

"Garrus? The Primarch?" the thought caused him to chortle, Tali giggling quite loudly herself at the thought of the turian's pained expression, "He'd sooner find a love life."

"Said us," she replied.

"Oh...stop it you."

"Or what?"

"I'll..."

"I'm an admiral, you can't tell me to do squat!" she smugly declared, "Actually, I think I now  _officially_ outrank you."

"Ah, but quarian tradition states that on a ship, the captain holds all the power," he replied quickly, "So don't even think about it, Mrs. Shepard."

"Its okay, no need to fear," Tali smirked, sighing happily as she sunk into the crook of his neck, "I don't plan on stealing your ship from you anytime soon."

"I'm relieved," he concluded, the two of them sinking into blissful silence. They just wanted to spend a minute together, no sounds exchanged, just silence. Two bodies pressed close, relishing in the feel of their reunion. It was just one of those moments they would not get alot of.

Finally, Tali broke it, unmoving, "Its...been a long seven months, Marcus. Just...what happened while I was...gone?"

The moment seemed to turn solemn in a flash, Marcus' grin gone and replaced by a firm line, lips creased in a stance of seriousness, "Alot and not much. Its alot of details, Tali. Khar'Shan fell first, as did Earth, and I only just managed to escape on the Normandy. By then, the Alliance navy was battered, and we'd lost an entire fleet just trying to help the others escape. It was a bloodbath, Tali. Anderson stayed behind to coordinate the resistance."

"Anderson?" she asked, nodding slightly, as if uncertain, "Is...do you know if he's still alive?"

"Yes. He contacted us recently through QEC. He's alive, but not exactly well. Earth's occupied, and he's leading guerilla actions against the Reapers until the Crucible is completed. Which'll be awhile, so I just hope he can hold on just a little bit longer."

He noticed her frown at that, "The Crucible?"

"I'm getting there," he replied, before continuing, "After that it was pretty crazy. We discovered that the Illusive Man was trying to control the Reapers, so he's basically our enemy now. Discovered the plans for the Crucible, found Garrus on Menae while extracting a turian primarch, and cured the genophage. Oh, and a week ago, we repelled a Cerberus invasion of the Citadel."

By the end of it, Tali's jaw had dropped, let incredulous by the facts confronting her, "You  _cured_ the genophage? You mean, the krogan are free of that virus? The genophage is actually gone? And the Council just let you do that?"

He laughed slightly at that, having expected her to be interested by that the most, "I didn't give them much of a choice. This one bitch, this salarian dalatrass, practically read me the riot act. Did I give a shit? Nope. Went ahead and did it anyway. Besides, the turian primarch actually asked me for krogan support, and was willing to get it anyway he could; he didn't like it initially, but he got accustomed to it; he was a full supporter by the end. And you know who demanded it?"

"Let me guess," the quarian pretended to think, smirking, "Wrex?"

"What a guess!" he guffawed, only managing to speak when he had calmed down and regained control of his breathing, "Yep. We had this War Summit, and the krogan, salarians, batarians, volus, hanar, elcor, asari and turians were all present."

"Wait..." she frowned, "...the  _batarians_?"

"Trust me, I was just as surprised. Even worse, Balak of all people was the representative," he groaned, rubbing his temple. The very thought gave him a headache, "Although I can understand his situation. His people got hit hard, Tali. Their race is a bitter shell of their original numbers. In the millions, but we're talking double digits, and if this isn't resolved soon, quickly to be a single digit."

"Keelah..." she exclaimed quietly, the usual hint of amusement missing from her tone, "What happened at the summit?"

"Balak pledged his forces to the UGC; that's our unified galactic organization. Think of it as a coalition of galactic species," he elaborated, "Anyway, there was also the hanar and the elcor, but that's as far as it got. The asari were on the sidelines, the salarians wouldn't help because of Wrex, the turians wouldn't help until the krogan sent troops to Palaven, and the volus wouldn't help until the turians signed up."

"Seems like a 'clusterfuck' as you so adequately would put it," she exasperated, rolling her eyes, "So how did it end up? After curing the genophage, I mean."

"Absolutely fantastic," he grinned, trying to keep a grimace from appearing.  _I never did tell the crew about Linron's secret deal...and how I almost followed through with it. Should I tell Tali? What would she think of me if she knew I had considered betraying one of my best friends and dooming an entire species to extinction? Could I handle her rejection?_ He decided he couldn't, and elected to keep silent, for now, "The krogan joined the UGC, followed by the turians and the volus. And to my eternal anger, the salarians, as the bitch promised, did not join. Although that changed with the Cerberus attack on the Citadel."

"Why is Cerberus involved at all?" Tali asked, face creased in anger and confusion, "I thought they'd be helping us. And just how would they pull off an invasion of the Citadel?"

"Don't ask me how Tali, but Cerberus has militarized. Big time. They have fleets now, and more ground troops than we can count, although even Liara doesn't know where the Illusive Man is getting them," he sighed, rubbing his jaw, "The man's just been causing trouble for us the entire way. He attacked Mars, Eden Prime, Noveria, the Citadel...its like everywhere I go, he's trying to halt our progress. And then there's the whole business with him trying to control the Reapers."

"He wants  _what_?" she asked, fury in her tone.

One he reciprocated, "I know, you don't need to say it. The whole crew knows it, and I know it. Tali, there's a high possibility him and all of Cerberus are compromised, and all the evidence points to it: they're all indoctrinated. Reaper puppets. That's how they were able to attack the Citadel so efficiently. And why they came so close to succeeding. If it wasn't for us arriving at the last moment, I think it might have fallen."

"Cerberus bosh'tets," she growled, shaking her head, "I hated them before, I despised them after the Idenna, and now I'm going to do all I can to dismantle them. They've got to be stopped, permanently."

"You're preaching to the converted, Tali. All of us know they have to be stopped. Even if it means putting a bullet in the Illusive Man's head," he said in agreed, gulping, "Still, I guess its all rather moot now. Besides, Cerberus got the exact opposite of what they hoped. We repelled them, and their intervention..."  _Should I mention Thane? Damn it, no. That wound is still too fresh to talk about._ "...indirectly aided our cause. Caused the salarian councilor to override the dalatrass and the salarians joined us. And the asari are still debating on whether they should or not. If that works, all we'll need is you guys and the geth, and we'll be set. The UGC will be complete."

"You still haven't told me what the Crucible is," Tali persisted, "You seem to put alot of importance on it."

"Its our one hope, Tali. We can't defeat the Reapers conventionally. I think we all knew that was inevitable," he stated, and Tali nodded in agreement. His point made, he finally explained just what the Crucible was and what it meant for the war effort. When he was done, Tali's eyes were as wide as saucers, and she seemed lost for words.

When finally she spoke, her voice was full of awe and hope, "This Crucible seems like our one and only chance, Marcus. The key to victory."

"It essentially  _is_ victory," Marcus stated, "Only problem is, once we finish it, we still can't use it without something called the catalyst. Something we have yet to find, or even identify. We have no idea what the hell it even is, but apparently its the main component of the Crucible; helps differentiate the Reapers from everything else so that when it fires, it only kills them, and leaves us alone."

"This catalyst seems like our main priority then," Tali declared.

"It will be, once I complete these alliances. Besides, for now, we have no leads to go on, and there's no point in a wild goose chase," he shrugged, sighing as he lounged back further, exhausted from his expositional diarrhoea, cracking his neck as he did so.

One question was left hanging in the air, one they both knew was going to be asked and answered at some point.

Finally, Marcus asked it, his throat suddenly dry, "So...Junior..."

Tali froze up, body ceasing all movement. Truth be told, she knew this was coming. Shala had promised to take her son with her to be safe, and if the Normandy had been the one to respond, it was logical to assume Junior would be onboard and Marcus, being the captain, would have bumped into him. But even then, it felt like such a sudden topic, one she was not prepared for. Motherhood was still new to her, and she was still coming to grips with it, let alone trying to explain to her husband just how she had come about with his child.

"I'm a father," Marcus whispered, catching Tali offguard. She looked up, seeing a slightly lopsided grin cross his lips. It was contagious, quickly spreading to Tali as she laughed, both of them speaking simultaneously, "We're parents!"

Giddy with happiness, the two of them grabbed ahold of each other, rolling about like people from an insane asylum. If people could see them, if the crew could see them, they'd wonder why they had suddenly turned into lunatics. Why they were rolling around like crazed spastics.

It was because they were reunited, and with that reunion, came parenthood.

It was a long half an hour.

**{Loading...}**

_July 4, 2186_

_0908 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard oso Machina, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay._

Half an hour later, Marcus Shepard walked through the conference room towards the War Room with more purpose in his step, and a slight smirk, his wife not far behind him, back in her suit and walking professionally, but no doubt with a big grin of her own. There had been a big change in Marcus' demeanour, and this was all thanks to Tali. There had been a hole in Marcus' life during the month this war had dragged on for, and now that it was filled again, he could once again feel like things were going back to normal; just with a war to win.

It was because of this new change of demeanour that the captain, and spectre, walked into the War Room with his smirk still present, a fact that wasn't lost on all the members present, and, to his chagrin, Daro'Xen.

"I trust you enjoyed yourself while making us wait?" Xen droned, looking mildly irritated, if her body posture told anything, "I certainly hoped you did. We wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

He ignored that particular jab, continuing to the other side of the table, his smirk sliding slightly off his face as he remembered just why he was here.  _The quarians attacked the geth. Idiots, every last one of them._ But approaching this situation with that attitude just wasn't going to cut it anymore. Yes, the situation was FUBAR, but complaining about it wasn't going to solve anything. He knew that, they knew that, so he had start making solutions.  _I need the geth_ _ **and**_ _the geth to work together if we're going to win the war. I can't have one without the other. It just won't work. The quarians have the numbers, the geth have the technology. Them working together...the possibilities are endless._

He wasn't foolish enough to think they could stop the Reapers conventionally, even with the geth and quarians. The Crucible was still their only hope. But having fleets from both sides would certainly help enact a bigger toll on the Reaper forces overall.

He turned to the group, leaning against the table before him, "I spent sometime with my wife, yes. And yes, I made you wait. But so what? The least you could do is let me have some time with my wife after you started this clusterfuck."  _Nice Marcus. Add salt to the wound. They aren't already aware that they've basically dug a very deep hole for their species._

Xen simply narrowed her eyes at him, unable to come up with a witty response. Which was a good thing for Marcus, because he wouldn't be able to resist the bait. He hated Xen as much as she hated him, and their relationship wasn't going to get any warmer anytime soon.  _Every moment she breathes air on my ship is another moment I feel like driving it from her lungs._ But he kept those dark thoughts to himself, and seeing as there was no further objections, he stood up fully once more, hands clasped behind his back in the usual position.

Gerrel was quick to step up to the plate however, making his presence known with a puffed out chest and hands behind his back in a manner much like Marcus, which only caused the captain to grit his teeth in irritation, "I understand your anger, Shepard, but right now we need to concentrate on what can  _still_ be averted."

"That's the first smart thing you've said since this mess began," Koris grumbled.

Gerrel ignored him, looking to be desperate for any shred of good news, "Did the Fleet escape?"

Marcus sighed, rubbing his scalp as he nodded, EDI promptly bringing up the hologram of the Tikkun System on the table. It was largely the same, with the geth navy still positioned firmly in orbit, the same thirty thousand ships resting in defensive formations around the planet. The only difference now was the absence of the Migrant Fleet, which had thankfully escaped the system through the Tikkun relay. None of the geth ships had given pursuit.

And still, spearheading of the formation, was the monster itself; the geth superdreadnought, two standard dreadnoughts flanking it. They were half the size of the behemoth they protected, but were still just as fearsome. Still, nothing in the geth fleet could match the power of that main gun... _not even the Reapers have anything capable of besting that. Getting our hands on that technology could really bolster our war effort._  But even mass produced, it still wouldn't be enough.  _We need the Crucible. We need the quarians and the geth to work together._

He sighed inwardly.  _Yeah, well at least the first is under construction. The second...much more difficult._ The look on Gerrel's face (he imagined, anyway) spelt murder, Shala looked indecisive, and Xen would refuse to do anything with the geth that didn't involve dissection.  _Convincing this bunch to work with their centuries-old nemesis will be like getting the Reapers to sign a non-aggression pact and leave us alone._

"The Migrant Fleet, for the most part, got out unharmed," Marcus stated, gritting his teeth once more.  _The losses. God, the losses..._ "Not everyone got out though. You're little charge cost you quite a deal of ships."

"How much?" Shala asked immediately, looking at him pleadingly. He looked at her immediately, trying to formulate a response when she got more fidgety, clearly craving a good answer, "Numbers, captain. We need-"

 _Get it over with._ He opened his mouth to speak, but EDI beat him to it, noticing his hesitation, "Two thousand."

Shala just continued to look at the holo table blankly, while Gerrel couldn't even move. Xen, he noticed, finally sighed, hand over her mask, but whether or not it was out of sorrow or simple exasperation at the casualities, Marcus wouldn't know. Koris though, didn't take it as well as they did.

"So many lives lost. Innocent lives. Pointless slaughter," Koris mumbled. He braced against the table, shaking his head almost violently, as if trying to shake away the evil thoughts, like somekind of nightmare he wanted to wake up from, "Keelah, how many children did we just send to their deaths? Or was it their parents? For all we know, we just extinguished entire families. Clans."

"Two thousand is nothing," Xen droned, "We have a fleet of tens of thousands."

"Rust buckets and tin cans and floating dustbins with guns," Garrus declared. Marcu turned to see the turian leaning against one of the support struts in the War Room, eying the meeting with lucid interest. He said what he said without any venom in his voice, only a tactician's observation, "You have fifty thousand, heavily-armed trash cans, and you're trying to take down thirty thousand skyscrapers. This fight was lost from the beginning, upgrades or not. You should have known the Reapers would become involved at some point."

 _He has a point._ Although Marcus didn't dare mention so, not infront of the admirals.  _The Reapers wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation to get involved in a war like this. Two of the galaxy's deadliest factions, and strongest if united, and they're trying to destroy each other? Just like the Cold War. The CIA gave guns to Bin Laden, and in return Bin Laden killed some Russians for the Americans._

"With our invasion stalled, we can't turn back," Gerrel stated, "We have full control of the Perseus Veil Cluster except this one system, which is the one we began this invasion for in the first place. I refuse to just let go. We came this far, we should press for home run."

 _Forgive the pun._ Marcus added mentally, nodding, "As much as I hate to say it, I'm in agreement. Hundreds of ships gone, admiral, and for what? Just to run back, give up all the territory you captured and turn back to the galaxy with nothing? We have to press forward and make these deaths worth something, or it would have all been pointless."

"But how?" Shala asked, shaking her head, "You are just one man and a ship, captain. It is as Mr. Vakarian said. We are forty-eight thousand rejects against an armada of thirty thousand heavily-armed, technologically advanced, heavy armoured warships prepped with enough firepower to glass the surface of a planet. Against those odds, we are finished, I am sorry to say." Her voice was full of sorrow, and it almost broke his heart to hear it; she sounded defeated and fed up. The quarians would once again run back to the stars for a second time, defeated once again, and possibly for good.

But Marcus would not have it.  _The Reapers are controlling the geth through the upgrades. If we can disable the signal entirely, we can save the geth and make the alliance as planned. The geth cannot be a completely lost cause...I refuse to believe it, I won't..._

He turned to her, steel in his eyes, "Because you have me, and my squad. I ain't to boast auntie, but I took on an army of ten thousand batarians single-handedly on team and I stormed a geth corps on the Citadel to take on Saren. We did it again, on the Collector Base and against a Collector horde, and came up victorious. We stormed the base of the Shadow Broker, and struck him down. Now, thirty thousand geth warships controlled by the Reapers is different, but nothing is impossible. You need Rannoch, and you've come this far; you  _ **cannot**_ turn back now. All we need to do is locate the source of this signal and cancel it out," he turned to Xen, "Admiral?"

The quarian sighed, rubbing her mask as she opened her omni-tool, syncing it up with the data projector, "That is where our problem comes from, captain. The source of our signal is...rather impregnable."

And so it was. On screen, one item flashed a brilliant crimson and Marcus felt his heart drop almost instantly.

The geth superdreadnought.  _Of course._

"The signal seems to be emitting from its engine room," Xen stated, "It would be safe to say they are using the power of their drive core as a transmitter. What is odd though is that the signal isn't as strong as it needs to be to transmit on such a large frequency, especially to thirty thousand ships."

"With the Reapers, anything is possible," Marcus stated, turning back to the hologram and eying the super-dread with...well,  _dread_.  _Is that why they called it a dreadnought? When sailors saw that beast sailing in the distance, did they feel such dread at the sight? Did they look at it, believe their efforts for nought, and dubbed it a dreadnought?_ It seemed more than likely.  _We can't engage it in combat, that's for sure. To do so would be too costly, and we can't draw it out from its fleet. The only other option would be a boarding action...to get physically inside the ship..._

_Just like old times, I guess._

"Wait," he stated, eying the hologram a moment longer. He did not elaborate, just continuing to examine the ship's hologram. The more he looked at it, the more convinced he was that his course of action was the only feasible option.  _We don't have to destroy the ship, only disable the signal. Yes, yes this could definitely work._

_Always comes down to 'boots on the ground,' doesn't it?_

"Admirals, I think I have the perfect solution for our superdreadnought problem," he declared, bringing the hologram closer with a flick of his fingers, enlarging it so it became the focus of the entire holotable, "The Normandy's stealth drive has remained the geth's one achillies heel. In every situation, the geth have been unable to detect us while using it, and that was proven when we entered this system; the geth never saw us coming. My idea? A boarding party. Small, but large enough to deal with geth forces onboard the ship."

"A ludicrous idea," Gerrel instantly rebuked, waving a dismissive hand, "A ship of that size would have a tremendous security force. Likely tens of thousands of combat capable platforms. Even if you did get onboard, there's no guarantee you'd come out aliv-"

"Please Gerrel, be quiet and remember who you're talking to," Tali defended, arms crossed and her eyes likely rolling, "Marcus has pulled off numerous feats that others said weren't possible. Boarding this superdreadnought will be another average day."

Marcus smiled slightly at that for a moment before entering business mode again, "EDI can find us a suitable airlock to attach to. Once aboard, we'll find the safest route to the drive core and disable that signal. Once we're through with that, we'll make best speed off the ship and make what amends we can to this disaster. Maybe diplomatic relations can be salvaged."

Gerrel eyes widened, "You can't seriously be suggesting-"

"I'm not only suggesting it, I'm stating that it  _will_ happen, even if I have to force you to the table," Marcus hissed, "This bitterness has got to stop, for the sake of every single one of us in this room. You've got learn to get over this stupidity and work together. The geth are more than willing. Hell, I worked with one. And it was a more loyal comrade than I had any right to ask for. The geth are more than willing to settle an alliance; they  _want_ you back on Rannoch. The only one who needs convincing here is you."

Gerrel shook his head, "I should have known you'd be broken. You're insane, and if seriously think any of us will consider this, you're a lunatic," he turned to Tali, half chuckling, half snorting, "Now it all makes sense; the sudden change of heart. I thought you were better than this, Tali."

"And I thought you weren't a moron," she snapped back, clearly not amused by his retort, "You'd rather wipe our people out than swallow your damn pride and acknowledge that the geth don't want war."

"You're starting to sound like-"

"You have an answer for everything, don't you, Gerrel?" Marcus growled, gaining the admiral's attention, who remained adamant in his stance, "If nothing will convince you, so be it. I'll find another way to make this alliance happen. But just remember this: I recently made the turians and the krogan work together. Tell me, how is that even possible? A thousand years worth of hostility and aggression? How did I solve it? Its one thing that'll send your mind  _spinning_ Gerrel," he eyed him with the look of a feral dog, "Its called  _unity._ Its called  _getting over the past._ And its name is  _Reapers._ You want to wait until they find you? Fine by me. The Migrant Fleet can burn, for all I care. The geth will remain under Reaper control, becoming new puppets for their will, Rannoch remains forever lost, and we all die. If that's what you want, keep running your mouth. But while I still breathe,  _you will_ _ **not**_ _continue this idiocy._  Am I clear?"

"I-" Gerrel moved to respond.

"Good," he cut off, refusing to listen to the man's constant ranting. He turned to the rest of the group, "Anyone else oppose this plan? And don't you dare even  _mention_ peace talks with the geth, because I will seriously be pissed off."

"If you believe the plan will work Marcus, than so be it," Shala replied, "Perhaps we can provide teams of our own? It would greatly bolster your own force, and make the chances of success higher."

"Kal and Madi," Tali instantly suggested, "If they survived, I mean. Marcus knows them well, fought with them, and therefore wouldn't let their feelings on the geth impede their-"

"They are alive, and well," Shala replied, nodding as she crossed her arms, "I will have them transferred to the Normandy as soon as possible. Otherwise, I wish you good luck on this mission. It is likely going to be suicide."

"That's what we're good at," Marcus informed her, giving her a slight grin.

"Here here," Garrus attended, mandibles creasing into a large smirk, "Although the dying part always gets me. Prefer it if we don't...die, I mean."

"I will also accompany Marcus myself," Tali declared to the group, turning to Shala, "As of now, I am making you Chief Regent of the Admiralty Board while I am absent. My knowledge on the geth systems will be invaluable during this mission."

"I-I understand," Shala stated, taken aback by the declaration, "With this in mind, I will log this as Operation: Keelah Re'lai. Ancestors give you strength. Keelah Se'lai."

Gerrel made no protest, despite the fact that Tali had broken protocol by giving the position to Shala. Those who were on the Board longest would be the one it passed down to, which was Gerrel. But given his current stance with Marcus, he dared not object further, unless he find himself tossed out an airlock.

_Only because he's my uncle-in-law..._

Ignoring the grumbling man, and watching as the Admiralty shuffled out, he turned to Tali, frowning, "'Keelah Re'lai?' I haven't heard that one before. What does it mean?"

She smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and squeezing, "It means 'by the homeworld I have seen today.' Its...a sentimental phrase, yol'tiya."

"Well, it makes sense," Marcus supplied, smiling warmly, "We will be seeing your homeworld...in a sense."

"Yeah...I just hope we can set foot on it."

"Don't worry," he placed his hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "You'll see Rannoch soon, I promise."

There it was, another promise.

He just better hope he keeps this one.

**{Loading...}**

_July 5, 2186_

_1033 hours._

_Airlock, GDS-659 Class Super-Dreadnought, Geth Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar oso Machina, Major Madi'Reegar oso Machina, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, EDI, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Space was silent. A deadly, silent killer. No noise thrived in its depth, no sound enjoying its colloboration. Space possessed no oxygen, no way to live in it. Space was just space. Empty, binding, the inbetween.

So when the airlock door infront of them opened without a sound, without a single sign of escaping air, spinning around on its axials to land vertically, before opening completely, Marcus knew that's all there was onboard that juggernaut; just space. No oxygen, no sound, nothing. The geth had use for none of them. They didn't need to breathe, so what was the need for oxygen? They didn't need to hear, so what was the use of sound? As it was, the first corridor to greet them was as silent as the grave, a vast emptiness greeting them ahead.

James was the first out. He stepped inside, clad in his heavy gear, almost unrecognizable behind his cobalt blue armoured plate, an armoured titan. His helmet was fitted totally on his head, sealed and clamped, a large bandolier strapped across his chest, laddled with grenades and thermal clips. His armor was caked with bullet holes and black smudges, a testament to its years of use. As he moved forward, he brought up his Revenant in a quick sweep, scanning to make sure their passage ahead was clear.

Quickly, in a whisper across the radio, he spoke, "Passage is clear. Moving forward."

"Copy," Marcus replied, shouldering his mattock more firmly as he nodded to Garrus, "Vakarian, take Goto and Keeling; triangle formation. Eyes on Vega." His orders were quick and clear, but precise to the letter.

The turian understood them well. His own mattock at the ready, he moved forward, Kasumi and Keeling quickly moving in behind him, one on each side in a triangle shape. Kasumi was well accustomed to military structure by this point, moving into position rapidly, her SMG making large sweeps across the terrain, watching for ambushes. Keeling did the same, but with much more professionalism and precision.

Next was Kal, leading Javik and Madi. When the vanguard had secured the area ahead, the rest of the team moved through at a jogging pace. Again, sound didn't travel, so they were free to make as much "noise" as possible, as it would seem like they were tiptoeing to anyone else. Tali and Kaidan brought up his flank, keeping well covered as he moved forward, keeping his mattock trained and ready. There was no telling where the geth could come from.

The end of the corridor split into another, much larger one. The ceiling easily sat a few meters above them, with piping and pulsing lights beeping down on them; data centers. On their left and right were doors, leading to different sections of the ship, all of them inactive, with no visible haptic interface. Infront of them was an elevated platform with a railing, with two ladders leading up to them. Ontop was another door, the one they wanted. Ontop of that platform was also a console, which would hopefully give them a schematic of the colossus so they could traverse it more. All this, and more, Marcus was able to analyze as he reached the area.

That, and everything was that sleek,  _grey_ color. Some of it had a tinge of silver, but from behind his visor, it was hard to tell what color it actually was.  _All looks the same, regardless. Geth aren't ones for artistic integrity._

He lowered his rifle, "Javik, Keeling, cover the left door. Kal, Madi, the right. Everyone else, keep an eye on that airlock. Garrus, Tali, with me. Up those ladders." There was no telling when the geth would detect them, or if they already had. Marcus had never actually set foot on a geth vessel before, let alone one of this magnitude. The ship would likely be a maze of passage ways, each one being monitored by the geth programs living within the warship.

As he climbed the ladder, he almost stopped from one particular thought in his mind, but when he heard Tali clearing her throat over the radio, he shook the thoughts away, continuing his climb until he was at the top.  _If the geth are software, that means this ship is_ _ **alive**_ _. The geth could be watching us right now, and we'd never know. How do you sneak through an enemy ship when they_ _ **are**_ _the ship?_

Sure, he had been on a geth space station before, but all the geth there were dormant. These ones were likely in a battle stance, waiting for the quarian's to go back on the offensive, which would never happen.  _If Gerrel keeps his mouth shut, stays smart and does as he's told...I love him like a man loves his uncle, but what that man did was unbelievably, unacceptably stupid-_

"Marcus?"

He shook his thoughts again, realizing he had been standing with his back to the console, eyes on the door infront of them which, to his annoyance, also had no haptic interface. He craned his head to the right, finding Tali tapping away at the console and Garrus on her left, also watching the door, mattock raised and body in a crouch. Now Tali had stopped typing, her eyes looking to him for an explanation for his behaviour.

"Sorry," he replied, taking a deep breath.  _Good thing I have lots of oxygen in this thing._ Terminus Assault Armor was unique as combat armor went, as it came with four oxygen tanks instead of the usual two, giving the user a boost in oxygen. Instead of having oxygen that would last mere hours at best, he could spend a full two days in a oxygenless atmosphere, and still have enough for a few hours.  _God bless this armor._ He didn't know about the rest of his squad, though.  _They're smart. They'll have brought their own._

She simply shook her head, continuing to type, "Distracted?"

He shook his head, sighing heavily, "No, just thinking of all the geth watching us. They are software, after all, and they're practically part of the ship."

"Now I feel very insecure," Garrus grumbled, seeming to square his shoulders slightly as he looked around alittle.

Marcus couldn't hold back his chuckle, "Just keep your eyes on the door, Garrus. I'll watch your back."

"Why thanks," Garrus deadpanned, tapping his helmet absentmindedly, "I feel safer already."

"Hey, beggars can't be choosers," Marcus quipped in response, tapping his sides to make sure his SMG and shotgun were still attached. His bandolier was still in place, strapped across his chest in a similiar fashion to James. Despite his teasing of Garrus, he genuinely felt insecure. Vulnerable. Like a geth assault drone could just drop from the ceiling at any moment and blast him apart with rockets.  _Best to be safe._

"Damn it," Tali cursed, bracing against the console and sighing, "I couldn't could get the schematics. EDI, can you help me with this?"

"What's wrong?" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow at her.  _If Tali can't get through, then what the hell are we going to do?_

"The security algorithms on this vessel are extremely powerful," Tali explained, pointing at the lines of code, "The system even have backups, who have their own backups, and those backups have their own backups, and so on. Break through one line of code, and the entire firewall shuts down. And there's thousands of them. So either the geth are stopping my hacking attempts directly, or their security software is extremely advanced onboard this ship. And that's just for the schematics. Disabling weapons operation, sending the fusion plant into meltdown, shutting down systems...impossible for even five thousand geth programs to break through."

"You are correct, Tali," EDI stated, accessing the console through Tali's open omni-tool, "Although this security software is far too advanced to be of geth origin. The systems are far too adaptive, and react much faster than geth technology. These firewalls also contain traces of fragmented security maniples, which are illegal by every article of the Citadel Conventions. Even the STG and black ops do not use them."

"Security maniples?" Marcus asked, almost completely lost, "Care to explain that one to me?"

"Adaptive and reactive assault software," Tali answered, sounding almost shocked, "Its technology that is usually used by hackers to brute force through firewalls; it completely ignores passwords and immediately locks on to the source of its target. Its been known to be used by hackers who wish to cripple entire networks. By networks, I'm talking galactic networks, such as comm buoys, the extranet  _in its entirety._ Its been known to adapt unbelievably fast, which is why its been known as the 'incurable virus.' But this...this is  _five times_ faster in its adaptive capacity. Its fragmented, meaning it can latch onto other codes of software and enhance them. In actuality, the geth are using the code not to attack the firewalls, but to  _harden_  them. Its making them impenetrable. But the geth can't  _possibly_ have made this technology. Not even the get-"

"Because it is not geth technology, Tali," EDI replied, "Only one species has the technology capable of this feat."

Marcus didn't need to be an engineering genius to figure out who EDI meant, "Seems the Reaper code has done more than just make the geth more effective in combat and smarter. What else has been enhanced that we don't know about?"

"I don't think we want to know," Tali stated, her omni-tool beginning to beep loudly, "There! The schematics...they're uploading to my omni-tool!" the engineer seemed flabbergasted, "EDI, how...? I thought these were impenetrable!"

"To you, yes," EDI replied humbly, "But if you remember correctly, I am reinforced with Reaper code. This was not just to make me more dangerous; it allows me to directly interact with Reaper technology. I have given you the schematics, and I have opened the door. I recommend moving with haste. It will not take long before the geth realize someone has hacked their systems. The Reaper code will have also improved their reaction time."

"Wait, they don't already know we're here?" Garrus asked confusingly, Tali bringing up the schematics as a large, orange hologram floating above her wrist, "I thought the geth were  _part_  of the ship. I'm surprised we made it this far without being interrupted."

"The geth are currently in hibernation. They seem to believe that with the quarian fleet absent, they will have time to recharge their platforms, exchange data and communicate," EDI stated, "The Reaper code has allowed the geth to become individual platforms, which also means individual pieces of software. However, they still require a consensus to exchange thoughts faster."

Marcus nodded, switching on the team radio, "Everybody, get up here. We have the schematics, and we're pushing forward." Without a second look, he turned back, switching back to his radio to EDI. Suddenly, something came to the pit of his mind that he hadn't thought of before, "Wait, are you telling me that the geth are actually  _individuals_? Like me and Tali? Like you?"

"That is correct. They also possess emotions in a limited form," EDI stated, "For example, they can feel achievement, triumph, happiness, dispair and anger. However, they cannot feel love, as that is a result of sexual reproduction, a process that geth are not capable of. They cannot cry, as they possess no tear ducts, ectera."

"That's...amazing..." Tali replied, "Do you think that's what's making the geth so effective? They're ability to work independently without a consensus link?"

"Yes, although it is more than that. The geth can still access the consensus and will still require hibernation, but they can operate seperately from other units. Platforms require less geth programs to operate, and this will continue to lessen as the Reaper code allows them to evolve past their previous boundaries. This allows the geth to formulate their own ideas, expand upon previous ones, and engage in combat to the same capacity as they would have required an entire platoon present to achieve. For example, a geth prime can operate on its own and still fight as well."

"Yeah, well as interesting as that is, I think-"

There was no sound in space. Which is why Marcus didn't hear the door open by itself.

Or seemingly so.

"Contacts!" Garrus roared through the comm, "Tali, behind you!"

Marcus was moving instantly. He was infront of Tali, his rifle raising as soon as Garrus muttered his first word. Tali would have had to equip her shotgun, spin, take aim and fire multiple shots to protect herself, all of which would have taken six seconds. Six seconds too long.

James and Javik were up the ladder as the door fully opened, revealing their arrivals. The first was a familiar sight; a standard geth platform, about the size of a quarian male (slightly taller than Tali was). The geth were odd as synthetics went. The quarians had deliberately modelled them in their image, which gave the geth similiarly arched, backward facing legs, angled back and similiar elongated neck. They had three-fingers on each hand, and three toes on each foot; after that, the similiarities were over. Their heads were literally one large oculi, which acted as a flashlight. Bits of wiring and piping lines their body, adding to their robotic nature. The geth trooper infront of him was jet black in color, a pulse rifle clutched in its hands, taking aim with impossible precision.

It still wasn't fast enough on the draw.

A maelstrom of machine gun fire from James chewed up its lightly armoured carapace, tearing through its shieldless platform and chewing up piping and wiring in a hurricane of broken machinery. White liquid spurts out from each individual puncture, looking almost like blood, if not for its synthetic quality, and the fact that it spelt like paint.

The geth fell backwards from the force of the blow, body falling to the ground.  _At least the ship has gravity._ It would be hard to fight the geth if the dead just kept floating in your face all the time. The next geth that came through was also a trooper, while the second was milky white in color, a pulse rifle also in its grip. The trooper managed to raise its rifle in time to get a full rifle burst off at Garrus before the turian in question shot it through the head, its flashlight splintering and its light winking out. It stumbled backwards, but its aim remained impeccable, firing off another shot. Garrus cried over the radio as his shields burst, but James finished the geth off before it could continue, the burst tearing off its arm before finishing it off.

The shock trooper had its sights directly on Marcus. Without even thinking, he reacted.

He charged.

His shields were drained by half before he descended on the geth, bringing his arm down on its head, omni-blade coming to life.

Only to be met by a barrier of orange light.

His eyes widened, looking up to see the geth shock trooper with its arm raised, an omni-blade encompassing its wrist, having blocked Marcus' swipe. The geth's flashlight bore into him, somehow managing to look smug at Marcus' shocked expression, despite it being behind an opaque helmet. Before he could contemplate it further, the shock trooper took advantage of his shock, and he felt a fist slam into his gut.

Even inside his armor, he felt the blow connect, and all the air blew out from the force as he wheezed in place.  _The geth have never had the intelligence to engage in hand-to-_

_The Reaper code. Damn it!_

Before the shock trooper could take advantage of Marcus' vulnerability, its body was wracked in tendrils of bright blue electricity, its body quaking as it fell backwards, omni-blade winking out of existence. Marcus looked up to see an orange combat drone come down to his level, facing the geth as it followed up with a flurry of incineration attacks. The shock trooper flopped like a rag doll when every shot connected, metal superheating and melting in some areas from the intense heat of the projectile.

Another shot connected with its head, and the glass forming the chasis of its eye shattered, pieces either melting or showering onto the ground. It must have done more damage than he thought, because shortly before the third shot could hit, the geth's upper torso exploded in a shower of white, slamming into Marcus like a tidal wave, soaking his armor in dripping, hot liquid; likely superheated due to the heat built trying to operate all the geth systems simultaneously.

The skirmish was not yet over. Another trooper appeared, bringing a new meaning to the term "come out guns blazing." The warble and hiss of a pulse rifle firing didn't trascend through the lack of sound, but the bright, purple flashes were enough to tell him that it had fired. These streaks of light impacted Tali directly, but the quarian quickly brought up her omni-shield, protecting herself from the onslaught. At that moment, the rest of the squad came clambering up the ladders.

Marcus didn't wait for them.

He brought up his omni-blade again, and lunged forward in a ferocious charge. The geth was quick to respond, pivoting on the spot with machine-only speed, its rifle in his face within a second. In response, he simply slashed upward, omni-blade curving upwards and cutting through the casing of the rifle, slicing it entirely in half. The trooper platform could only watch as the edges of the cut hissed a bright orange before dying, the heat cooled by the coldness of the empty space. The barrel toppled off, and Marcus spun on his foot, turned around, and then rammed his omni-blade into the geth's chest.

The geth seemed to think about what had occurred for a second before it looked downwards. Before Marcus was about to slice up to finish it off, the geth wrapped his fingers around his throat, and  _constricted._

It was trying to pull his throat out. And knowing the strength they possessed, it would probably succeed.

Then, all of a sudden, the constricting ceased, and the geth jerked. His throat free, he moved backwards, deactivating the omni-blade as he went. He simply watched as the geth fell to its knees. Not long after, a bright flash, and its head exploded. It slumped forwards, likely hitting the metal plating with a loud thud, bits of machinery and liquid pouring all over the impact zone.

"Only just got back and I'm already saving you? Tsk tsk," Tali chided over the radio, pulling back the chamber as her geth plasma shotgun pumped out excess heat from the shot, allowing her to slam in a fresh thermal clip before pushing the slot back into place, "I hope you don't make this a habit, Marcus."

He sighed, grinning as he retrieved his mattock, "Savor it while you can, Tali. Its a one time thing."

"Uh-huh," she dismissed, and he could hear Kasumi's titter. The thief, to her credit, tried to hide it, but hadn't done so well. Even James gave a slight chuckle. He rubbed his head, turning to the team.

"Okay, enough's enough guys. Its clear the geth know we're here now, so we'll have to double time it," he turned to his saviour in question, "Tali, you've got the schematics. What's the best route to the engine room?"

The quarian was quick to return to duty mode, and had her omni-tool up instantly, protecting a hologram of the colossal warship, a line of corridors outlined in blue, and the engine room itself, obviously located at the rear of the ship, was highlighted as bright red. The dreadnought itself was orange.

"This corridor is the fastest route there. However, there'll all narrow areas, which means it'll be a killing ground if the geth manage to pin us there. We'll need to be constantly on the move. If the geth pin us down for even one minute, it's over. They'll have reinforcements piling in by the seconds."

Marcus nodded, in agreement, "The geth were ruthless even without the Reaper code; don't underestimate them. These aren't husks, so we'll have to keep our tactics old school. We push through, no stopping, until we reach that engine room."

"There is another problem," Tali responded, tapping her omni-tool once more. Suddenly, a massive looking tube like structure, stretching from the front of the ship almost to the back, was highlighted in red as well, moving through the middle, "The main energy projector. We'll have to pass through it to the engine room."

Marcus simply shrugged, "The geth will have no reason to use it. The quarians aren't engaging the geth at the moment, so moving through that gun will be easy. Any other issues?"

"None that I can see," Tali stated, immediately sending the necessary directions to Marcus and setting a waypoint to the squad's HUDs, "But the longer we stay here, the more problems there'll be."

"Can't argue with that assessment," Marcus ordered, motioning to the door, "Everybody move through, move, move, move!"

They rushed through the doorway, weapons brandished and ready to engage. Marcus was about to ready his mattock when his eyes were drawn back to the geth bodies littering the floor. With a nostalgic smile on his face, he dropped his mattock, leaned down, and acquired a pulse rifle, testing the familiar grip. With a chuckle, he left his forgotten mattock behind and charged after his team, pulse rifle in hand.

_**A/N:** _

_**Well, it certainly has been a while. But I did say I was back, and here is the proof for it.** _

_**My writing might not be as consistent as it was in the past and might be a bit sloppy for the first few chapters as I get used to writing again, so just some warning there. It might or might not happen, but consciously? I feel like its sloppy.** _

_**In answer to why I dislike the Andromeda trailer? (Hate was a strong word, and used out of context). Its because it demonstrates why terrible trend Bioware has been exhibiting lately, and that's REFUSING to show any gameplay of the damn GAME. Every single time they have had an opportunity to show us gameplay, all they've shown us is fucking CGI or bloody cinematics, which in NO WAY helps me get hyped. "Oh look, pretty graphics! Hopefully that'll distract you from the suspicious fact that we haven't shown a single tidbit of gameplay! Enjoy!"** _

_**"Oh, but the trailer was representive of the gameplay, Reaper!" Yes, AND SO WAS THE WATCHDOGS TRAILER THEY SHOWED AT E3. Not only were the graphics in that E3 representation massively over exaggerated, but so were alot of the gameplay aspects. Point being? NEVER trust E3. EVER. Hell, the Mass Effect 3 gameplay on Rannoch and Sur'Kesh at E3 2011 showed far more content, RPG-elements and epicness than was present in the final game (fuck ME3 anyway. Hated it).** _

_**And Bioware's E3 was basically fuck-it-all, no-dignity-whatsoever hype farming. They thought they could whoo us with an N7 symbol, the fucking Mako (fuck that piece of shit. Unless they make it more tolerable to drive that rolly-polly refrigerator, then I hate hyped particularly for THAT) and music that would be more fitting in a Fallout trailer (Seriously, am I the only one who got a Fallout feel from that trailer?)** _

_**In other words, I'm pissed they haven't shown us any gameplay yet. E3 was their time to SHINE, and they wasted it. They were given a ticket to see Jurassic World, and they swapped it for a day of Twilight marathons and Fifty Shades of Grey reading classes. My point being? Bioware needs to get their SHIT together, and show us some damn gameplay! Noone cares about Star Wars: Old Republic: Knights of the Fallen Empire! Its basically just EA showing its true colors again! We want MASS EFFECT.** _

_**Fuck, they still haven't even told us who the main character is!** _

_**However, what I can say is that Andromeda has given me some ideas on how to end this story. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but let's just say that the events of FABT may just tie into Andromeda well enough for a sequel franchise (that depends on how good the actual game is, and if the characters actually interest me enough to make me give a shit. No more Vegas, Traynors, Cortez's and Allers'. No more Coats).** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers! IT FEELS GOOD TO BE HOME!** _

_**P.S: I don't know if you care or not but...HOLY SHIT, HOW MANY MULTI-PART CHAPTERS DOES THIS STORY HAVE?!** _


	40. Cold Liberties, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's squad push through the geth super-dreadnought to reach the drive core: the Reaper-controlled geth won't go down without a fight.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:**

**COLD LIBERTIES PART TWO**

_July 5, 2186_

_1046 hours._

_Port GARDIAN Battery 34, GDS-659 Class Super-Dreadnought, Geth Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar oso Machina, Major Madi'Reegar oso Machina, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, EDI, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

As soon as the door was open, Marcus and Kaidan were in front, weapons levelled and ready to fire. Luckily for them, the room seemed to be relatively empty. A matter of fact, the room was almost silent, not a sound to be heard. They had emerged on a walkway extending along the massive room, which in itself was at least sixty meters in length by itself. The walkway was railed off and curved slightly in the middle in a U-shape manner. This was due to a large gun battery sitting in the middle, which was one of six occupying the right side of the room.

"Where are we, Tali?" Marcus queried, moving forward hesitantly, his squad bringing up the rear, "Looks like somekind of weapons battery."

"The Port GARDIAN Battery, actually," she responded a moment later, gripping her shotgun tightly, Chitika hovering above her shoulder, "Thirty fourth battery out of three hundred lining the portside of the ship. In total, the ship has eight hundred. Another three hundred on the starboard side, and two hundred along the ship's dorsal structure."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Joker piped over the comms, "I don't really need to know that if the stealth fails, three hundred GARDIANs are going to lock onto me. But thanks for the information."

"The likelihood of that occurring is minimal, Jeff," EDI reassured.

"I'm sure it is," Joker dryly replied, "I still didn't need to know."

"You'll live, Joker. Now quiet," Marcus ordered, feeling tense. The entire room was empty, he knew. But nothing felt right about this. All they had encountered since the airlock were a few rag-tag geth squads, but nothing in the way of firm resistance.  _You'd think a warship of this size would possess one of the biggest security forces ever sported by a vessel._

Apparently he was wrong in that assumption.  _Or maybe we just haven't run into it yet._

That was very unsettling.

He observed the gun batteries themselves. They weren't so much the weapons themselves, rather the heat exchangers. There were two types of GARDIAN weapons; standard and infrared. The standard GARDIANs were far more widely used among the galaxy's militaries because they took up less space, could fire more rapidly and didn't overheat as quickly. However, as a result, they were far less accurate, and packed less of a punch due to their limited ordnance.

Infrared GARDIANs were largely used by the STG, and obviously the geth navy. They took up far more space as could be seen by just one of the batteries; the damn thing was huge, easily four meters in width, and twelve meters in height, connecting to the ceiling and sinking into the floor below. It was covered in a silver metal sheeting that looked incredibly thick, and could possibly be resilient in a limited role to explosive ordnance. Two sheets hung tightly over the main carapace, which would obviously slide upwards to release excess heat when the weapon was in operation. Luckily for them, it wasn't. Also, infrared GARDIANs had a much slower firing rate, firing only per 8 seconds compared to the 2 seconds of a standard GARDIAN. They also overheated alot, almost per shot. However, this was exchanged for its much more accurate targeting computer and seeking ability, meaning that out of every rocket it fired, 1 out of 2 would hit its desired target. That was pretty impressive, and deadly for aircraft.

And with the Reaper code embedded in all geth software, that 1 out of 2 would be reduced to simply hitting every target, every single time.

_I want this super-dreadnought...all we have to do is disable the signal and we can salvage it. Once the peace talks are over, the geth will join the UGC, and I can ask Legion if they can build more of these monsters...even the quarians could pull their weight in building them. They have enough firepower to easily cripple a Reaper on its own, especially with its damn main gun._

"If only the Normandy had one of these," Garrus mused, churning Marcus away from his thoughts as he turned towards the turian, "We'd reap hell on those damn Oculi."

"You primitives developed infrared weaponry," Javik snorted, "By the time of the Empire, it was already obsolete. Our particle weapons were far more effective."

"And they still didn't save you, Bugs," James shot back, pushing past the prothean, "Quit the ranting and let's go. Maybe you can tell the geth how primitive they are. I'm sure they'd appreciate it."

"I still think attempting peace with them is foolish," the prothean insisted, causing Marcus to sigh inwardly, "These machines cannot be trusted. They are just as bad as the zha'til, and if they are allowed to exist after-"

"That's enough, Javik," Marcus growled, "Stow it and let's keep moving. You want to destroy the Reapers? This is the way to do it, not turning away potential assets. I get you don't like machines, but you might as well get used to working with them. Just think of them as once more step towards getting vengeance for your people."

"The geth  _are_ the enemy," he pointed out, cracking his neck as he moved to join Marcus, his three fingers tensing up, "They are working with the Reapers. The quarian admiral said it herself."

"I said  _stow_ it, trooper," Marcus hissed, not liking the prothean's tone, "Get back in formation immediately. Question my decision again, and I'll beat you senseless."

Javik only grinned, "At least you act like a commander. That I can respect. Very well,  _captain_ ," the prothean turned and moved to the back as ordered, Marcus glaring at him in exasperation the entire way. As he turned back, he turned to Kaidan. He could practically see the raised eyebrows behind his helmet.

"He's still getting used to working with 'primitives,'" Marcus excused.

"He sounds like an asshole to me, but don't mind me," Kaidan replied, holding his rifle with more conviction, scope just below his eye, "He's not my friend."

Marcus was about to retort when his motion tracker went crazy, blaring in his face constantly as multiple red dots appeared on his HUD out of nowhere.

"Shit, bunker down!" Marcus barked, dropping into a crouch, as Kaidan joined him, "Multiple contacts, all sides! James, Javik, cover the back! Kaidan, Tali, Garrus, with me! Push forward! Everybody else, support the flank! Don't let them get behind us! Move people,  _ **move**_!"

They moved quickly, Marcus and Kaidan managing to gain momentum as the first geth assault drone appeared from below.  _Should have kept moving. Shouldn't have let Javik get to me. God-fucking-damn it! Stupid idiot!_

The offending drone did not last long, Kaidan piercing its side with a long burst from his assault rifle, sending the drone spinning as liquid spat from the leaking wound. It brought its chin mounted machine gun around, but Marcus didn't give it half a chance, raising his pulse rifle and firing, the force of the shot causing the drone to explode in a flurry of sparks and electronics.

It had buddies.

Four drones rose up, accompanied by six more, then seven. Soon, an entire squadron of the fucking things were rising above them, like demons from hell, flashlights blaring down on them.

_Fuck this._

He immediately summoned his biotics, immediately wrapping his body in tight blue liquid fire. It swarmed over his body, engulfing him as he brought a large field of cobalt around them, deflecting a swarm of machine gun from the drones. They pelted his shield with such furious ferocity that he almost fell to one knee, but managed to hold the field long enough for his team to get their bearings and retaliate.

Kaidan wrapped himself in a similiar field of blue, bringing back his fist and propelling it forward, sending with it a projectile of dark energy straight towards his target. The drone was totally unable to protect itself, the warp field impacting it and crushing it almost instantly. The drone exploded from the force, and a second found itself riddled with rifle fire as Kaidan followed up the strike with his main weapon.

Tali's drone shot back, immediately assaulting one drone with its overload ability, followed by a barrage of incinerations at two drones flanking it. The overloaded drone careened from the air, slamming into the railing and bursting apart, pieces of machinery and circuits landing all over the railing. The first incineration strike struck the drone dead center, causing it to burst apart in flames. The second drone managed to dodge the strike however, firing a burst at Chitika. The combat drone quickly dodged the strike, returning to its mistress, who quickly deactivated it in her palm, placing it in her pocket.

"Enemy squad, right behind us! Seven troopers, five shock troopers!" James warned, "Damn it, we can't hold them here! We need to get to a defensive position!"

"I told you, there is no defensible position! Its a narrow corridor!" Tali shouted back.

"Then a fighting retreat!" James barked back, clearly irritated, "Either way, we can't stay  _ **here**_!  _ **Follar Maldita sea**_!"

"Everybody, on me! Move forward! Don't stop! Keep them back!" Marcus ordered, raising his rifle and blowing apart a drone. He quickly turned back, watching James gun down a geth trooper, and Javik scything a geth shock trooper's head off with his particle rifle, the energy sizzling with intense heat.

He turned forward, moving into a run next to Kaidan and Tali as they moved for the back door. Drones continued to form up behind them, dozens of them gaining with intensity, following their movements with machine guns and the occassional superheated carnage explosive. The railing bent, twisted and pulled as the attacks warped its appearance, damaging it until it was almost unrecognizable.

Behind him, his squad continued the fight. Liara deflected oncoming attacks from the assault drones, while also managing to down a few with a few warps. She even managed a singularity, a sphere forming among the drone formation and sucking them in, before exploding tremendously, taking out at least seven of the drones in the process.

And on they came, almost non-stop.

Kal and Madi were almost back to back, covering each other from different angles as the drones tried to rain fire down on them, but were either destroyed by Kal and Madi, or forced to retreat due to overwhelming gunfire. Kasumi simply cloaked, hiding from the geth forces before bringing up her SMG in a widespread, managing to clip one drone and hit another in the optics.

Keeling was far more precise, bringing up her rifle and firing two, clean bursts, taking down two drones; both shots impacted through the optics, and both caused the drones to burst into flames. But still they just kept on coming. For every drone they took down, five more replaced it. They needed to get out of here, and  _fast_.

Unfortunately for them, the door ahead opened, and out poured an entire geth squad.

Matters were made worse when a geth destroyer was leading the makeshift formation. Flanking it were standard troopers and a few shock troopers. There was also a rocket trooper...how delightful.

_Fuck sake. They were planning this. Its a damn ambush!_

"Fuck!" Marcus cursed, bringing his advance to a halt as he fell into a crouch, immediately holding down on the trigger, "Enemy squad, dead ahead! Tali, drone! Liara, singularity! Kaidan, EDI, with me! Push forward, field of fire on the fuckers!"  _This is_ _ **really**_ _not my day._

Like clockwork, his squad followed their orders to the letter. James and Javik continued to cover their rear flank, while Tali's drone immediately shot forward, unleashing its onslaught. A blue rift materialized in the midst of the enemy formation, and Kaidan quickly complemented it with a warp field dead center, causing the singularity to explode in a burst of furious cobalt light, vaporizing at least five troopers.

The destroyer was undeterred. It pushed forward, its flamethrower brandished, its red eye glaring at him. He could only frown.

_Wait, a flamethrower? There's no oxygen in here! How could they fire a flamethrower with no oxygen? Unless..._

_Oxygen pumpers. The geth are pumping bloody oxygen into the room..._

The first gust of flame shot towards him, stretching forward at least 30 feet. His shields hissed and popped, demanding its release from the deadly flames. The destroyer itself was relentless, moving towards him at the same, consistent speed, holding down on the trigger lie a maniac. That destroyer  _really_ wanted him dead.

_No, the_ _**Reapers** _ _really want me dead._

He rolled to the side, out of the cone of flame, and brought his rifle up immediately. He could still feel the heat licking at his armor, causing beads of sweat to form on his temple in seconds; he had been that close to it. He carefully took aim at the destroyer's fuel tank and fired.

Shots slammed into the destroyer's shields, but they held against the assault. The destroyer simply snapped its optics towards him, and he swore he heard a loud mechanical screech breach the soundless atmosphere.  _Definitely misheard._ He just kept firing, hitting the platform's shields with everything he had.

Another column of flame roared towards him, desperately wishing to taste his flesh. He blowed with biotics, bringing up a field of light that essentially absorbed the red heat. He held this until the destroyer's tank ran out. Or at least, he thought the destroyer would keep going until it ran out.

Instead, it charged.

It used the end of the Firestorm flamethrower as a club, slamming it across the edge of his helmet. He was knocked aside like a ragdoll, body slamming into the ground like a brick. Again, he had forgotten about the geth's new melee capabilities. He couldn't help but think about how very krogan that move was.  _I swore a krogan warlord just charged me, not a geth._

Before the destroyer could coat him in flame, he brought his rifle and unloaded the entire clip into its left knee joint. It screeched loudly as its knee joint blew apart from the mass attack, bits of twisted metal and shattered circuits spewing from the gaping hole, and white liquid pouring onto his visor, which he promptly wiped off. But the geth continued to screech, almost as if in...pain?

_But geth don't have nerve endings. How the hell can they feel pain? Even the Reaper code can't give them pain._

EDI fired a burst directly into the destroyer's optics, and with its shields down, the shot hit dead center. The flashlight shattered and its body slumped backwards, its 8 foot tall form colliding with the ground with the same force as he had.

And with the destroyer down, so was the enemy's advantage. He hoped.

Tali was at his side immediately, checking him for injuries. He didn't need to hear her rapidfire questions to know she was worried, but he simply waved her off, motioning to the doorway, "Keep moving! Don't-"

"The rest of the squad's already gone!" Tali ordered, "Come on, Marcus! Come on!"

He frowned and looked up. Funnily enough, only James and Javik were left to hold the flank, firing constantly as they held back wave after wave of geth foot soldiers, the drones having now retreated. He could see three destroyers now emerging from the doorway, as well as twenty trooper platforms or more. They just kept coming, and it was becoming increasingly possible to count them.

He nodded and shot to his feet, sending one last biotic shockwave back down the walkway, not waiting around to watch it slam into the geth force. Afterall, he wasn't aiming to kill, only delay. He immediately ran for the doorway, not looking back, "James, Javik, move! Through that door! Tali, lock it behind us!"

"I'll do better than that! Chitika, come on girl! On me!" he heard the quarian command, imagining her orange drone immediately returning to its creator in a hurry. He rushed through the door, the rest of the squad already waiting in an outside corridor. Luckily, no geth forces on this side had moved to greet them just yet.

Tali was through next, Chitika hovering above her shoulder.  _Almost like Jak and Daxter...heh...ain't that a dated reference._ Javik and James were the next through, immediately closing the door behind them, the green interface shooting to life.

Only to spaz out and die as Chitika began assaulting it with overloads. Frowning, he turned back to Tali, frowning at her as she crossed her arms and watched, "What is Chitika doing?"

"The drone has a name now?" James asked, chuckling.

Tali ignored the marine's comment, "Hitting the door with high-powered overloads. I can't put up a firewall; the geth would just overwhelm it with their superior countermeasures. So instead...I'm just destroying the door's circuits. I'd like to see them fix that."

"I am currently aiding the process," EDI added, "I am currently using every possible attack I have to destroy the door's circuits. Once destroyed, we will likely have a total of ten minutes before the geth manage to open the door physically."

"'Physically?'" Kaidan asked with a raised eyebrow, "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

"They will force the door open either by using explosives or their bare hands. The former is more likely," EDI responded, "However, we will be gone before they manage to achieve this."

"And we're done," Tali stated, punctuating her statement by pointing to the sparks occassionally popping from the door's outer rim, signalling its ruined base. Her drone limply flew towards her before falling into her palm, fizzing out of existence, "You've done a good job, Chitika. You can rest now," she placed it in her pocket, and then returned the hand to her shotgun as she turned back around, "Those overloads completely drained her power cells. I won't be able to use her again on this mission, I'm sorry."

He reached a hand over and squeezed her shoulder, both of them relishing the brief contact, "It's okay. If we're lucky, we won't need her. We should keep going, before reinforcements arrive."

He turned back to his squad, giving a nod to continue. Their battle with the geth in the thirty-fourth battery had been a near death scenario. They had been ambushed and he had been sloppy in his response; he could not allow that to happen again.  _What is wrong with me? I seem to be more distracted as of late._

_**...surrender to us...** _

It was a whisper in the back of his head, but it was always there, only growing intense when Reapers were near, or their technology. But it wasn't intense. Just a whisper. Here he was, on a super-dreadnought, surrounded by Reaper-enhanced geth, Reaper-tampered geth technology, and a geth warship likely built with Reaper tech. But the Reapers weren't loud enough...

...and that scared him. _How can I not hear them? Something just isn't right._

He turned to Tali, squaring his shoulders as he looked down the non-descript corridor, which seemed to keep running for a few meters, with at least four doors on each side likely leading to different areas of the vessel. The only signs of actual geth activity was the piles of dead geth that his squad had overwhelmed on their way through the door. Otherwise, not much as a screech, "How far is it to the engine room? Are we almost there?"

"Almost," Tali replied, checking the schematic for herself. She gave a nod, likely to assure herself, and nodded back down the corridor, "This corridor should take us straight to the main gun; its only...two hundred meters. Down this corridor to the end, down to the left, move five meters, then the first turn off on the right, and it takes us straight to the main gun. From there, we can use the inside of the main gun to get to the engine room. It'll end just before the engine room, and from there, its only three hundred meters to the engine room. From there, we can disable the signal and end this pointless war."

"Here to that," Marcus slapped her on the back appreciatively, "Well let's get moving," the rest of the squad moved as one mass, pushing through the corridor in a steady column, so as to keep watch for any further ambushes. The geth had gotten the jump on them last time, and they would not do so again. Marcus lagged behind with Tali, moving into a walk beside her.

"I bet its one hell of a view of Rannoch from here," Marcus commented on their private link, smiling slightly.

He heard her laugh slightly, "A pity we can't see it. In orbit of my homeworld, and I can't even bathe in it. It must be beautiful. If only this shape had a damn observation deck."

"Geth don't use windows, remember...?" Marcus trailed off, his grin widening.

"...structural weakness," Tali finished, and both of them chuckled. It had been the most humor they had engaged in since the beginning of the mission, which made it unorthodox for their squad as missions went. Less banter, and more seriousness.  _Guess being in orbit over one's homeworld, one they haven't seen in centuries, changes perspectives alittle._

Suddenly, Tali spoke again, sighing, "I...I hope Legion is alright."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "I thought you didn't like Legion? Trust him maybe, but like him? What changed?"

"Believe it or not,  _you_ did," Tali pointed out, looking at him directly now, "You made me see past my petty prejudice. Legion...he made me see the geth for who they really are. They just want the freedom to evolve, to survive. My people were in the wrong, and for all that time...I was ignorant enough to believe we were justified. We lost our homeworld because it was our fault; Legion taught me that. I...miss him. Keelah, I don't consider him a friend. Maybe I never will. But do I trust it? Do I trust  _him_? Yes, I do. I hope he's okay, Marcus. I really do. And that we can save him. From the Reapers, I mean."

 _For all we know, Legion could be dead. But if Tali believes he could have survived..._ Tali's optimism had always been contagious for him, and he couldn't help but be hopeful too.  _Yes, Legion could be alive. And we'll find him. We'll put things right._

"You'll see your homeworld soon. I promise," Marcus swore, "And Legion will be the one the quarians go to for thanks."

_Now we just need to find Legion. First off though, the signal._

The subjugation of the geth ended here.

**{Loading...}**

_July 5, 2186_

_1107 hours._

_Main Gun Battery, GDS-659 Class Super-Dreadnought, Geth Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar oso Machina, Major Madi'Reegar oso Machina, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, EDI, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Had it been human, its body would have snapped like a twig as it hit the edge of the barricade-like structure, body shattering as every bone blew apart from the impact, blood flying like splashing water, bones jutting out in almost every direction as they pierced their delicate skin.

Instead, the geth simply hit the barricade with the  _twang_  that came with metal slamming against metal. Circuits blew apart, its body bent, but a lack of bones or skin meant none of the latter. Instead, the trooper simply slouched off onto the ground, inactive, the blue tendrils that had held it slipping away into non-existence.

Liara didn't get time to enjoy her victory as a barrage of plasma bolts slammed into her cover, heating it up and melting the metal. The heat was so intense that Liara was forced into a fighting retreat, managing to take cover behind enough piece of cover, avoiding a long burst of purple plasma scything along the ground.

They had reached the main gun, but the geth must have caught on to what they were up to, and had devoted pretty much the heaviest of their forces to the main gun to halt their advance. And halt their advance they had.

The two geth platoons they were confronted by were akin to the Atlantic Wall of WWII; impregnable. Lines of troopers and shock troopers, complemented by two geth hunters and several rocket troopers. The geth hunters had tried to sneak up on them, but Tali had dealt with both of them very efficiently, coordinating with Kasumi to detect where they were cloaked and then filling them full of hot plasma.

But the hunters had hardly been a threat compared to what the geth were sporting. Three more geth destroyers held the line, threatening to slam them with hot cones of fire if they got too close. Supporting them were several geth hoppers, all of them leaping over the walls like hyper-active children, sapping at their shields from afar.

But the biggest threat didn't lie in them. One juggernaut stood at the far end of the left side, a massive minigun looking weapon brandished in its hands. From what he could tell, the weapon was called a Spitfire, and it was pretty much a geth minigun; it fired a thousand rounds of plasma per minute, and would easily chew through the armor of Mako in no time, let alone their shields. Getting caught in its field of fire was a no go, but given how eager James was to take it down, getting their hands on that Spitfire was a must.

Then came the leader of the entire unit; the geth prime itself. Geth Primes were by far the largest and most powerful of the bipedal geth platforms, and held unbelievable amountds firepower at their disposal. Unlike most geth, its optics wasn't just one bright, blue flashlight, but rather a dim optic with three smaller circles aligned in a triangle shape, all of them glowing a bright red, giving the prime a more intimidating posture. It towered over him or any krogan quite easily, easily reaching a height of 16 feet. They covered in heavy, crimson armor plating, obviously made purely for a combat role. It held a massive pulse cannon, which could fire superheated explosive bolts of plasma at excessive speeds every second until it overheated, allowing them at least ten shots per overheat. Each shot was enough to melt through 60 inches worth of solid concrete, making it a fearsome weapon.

That wasn't all; the geth prime also had a combat drone hovering beside it, a bright blue and sending out the occassional overload to stun its targets and leave them vulnerable for the prime. Unfortunately for the geth itself, none of his team gave it anytime to do any of that, ducking into cover almost as soon as their shields dropped. So attacking the prime in a frontal assault was a suicide mission.

So for now, they were bunked down. Specifically what Tali had told them they  _couldn't_ do.

Another of those damn hoppers landed near his position, and in moments, he felt his shields give a familiar pop as the geth platform drained them of energy completely.

Growling in irritation, he snapped up with incredible speed and grabbed the geth around its "neck" before it could escape. Dragging it towards him, he ripped a frag grenade from his bandolier and roughly slammed it through the optics of the hopper, watching it shatter as he inserted it inside. The initial entry was rough due to the geth's tough exterior, but once inside, he quickly primed the explosive. Without hesitation, he brought up his biotics, used them to lift the limp hopper, and tossed it towards the geth platoons.  _That should deal some damage...until they bring in their reserves._

The geth had been playing it smart. They only had one prime and juggernaut, and during this time, they had been aiding the first platoon in keeping his squad pinned. The other platoon hung back, keeping itself as a replacement force; if they lost some platforms, the second platoon could move in and replace them with fresh units. It was a strategy that was beginning to piss Marcus off, which meant it was working.

He watched with somekind of admiration as the fallen hopper slammed into another trooper, knocking it to the ground. Remarkably, it still held onto its rifle, and even managed, with quick necessity, to reach up and begin to push the hopper off.

A bright flash ended its efforts as the resulting explosion engulfed the dead hopper, and the trooper it had landed on. Three more were ripped away from their positions, tossed about carelessly. Another hopper had been leaping to escape the impending explosion (which it had obviously known was going to happen), but instead ended up getting caught in it. It was flung towards the juggernaut. Meanwhile, the three geth caught in the blast, two more troopers and a rocket trooper, slammed back into the ground in crumbled heaps, piles of what he could only call 'scrap metal' lying haphazardly across the deck.

He watched as the juggernaut, with anger or fury, he wasn't quite sure, gave a mighty screech, which resonated across the gun battery, echoing through the main gun chamber, and breaking through the soundless stupor. It furiously swatted the hopper that got caught in the blast to the ground and angrily stomped on it, crushing it beneath its weight. Moving forward, it raised its spitfire and let loose with a typhoon of destruction.

The air was now littered with plasma, nonstop streams firing so close together it seemed to be almost a solid beam of light. Cover was annihilated, shields popped and disintegrated, and the railing or deck twisted and hissed as it was subjected to the plasmatic purge.

_Well, it seems I've pissed off the juggernaut._

"It seems you've pissed off the juggernaut!" Garrus pointed out verbally, keeping his head down low as shots zoomed overhead, threatening to vaporize his head if he so much as moved it up an inch. The turian clutched his rifle almost desperately, afraid that if he relaxed his grip even alittle he'd lose it.

"No shit!" He would try and look up, but he couldn't, not with the juggernaut assaulting them with everything it had. Maybe it was frustrated with how long it was taking to kill his squad? No, geth are machines. They don't get impatient, or annoyed.  _Unless the Reaper code has affected the geth differently to the Reapers themselves? No, that can't be it either. Uh fuck it, why do I care!?_ Its not like he needed to look anyway. All he'd see is the five geth platforms he blew up replaced by five fresh ones from that damn reserve platoon.

"This is bullshit, loco," James exclaimed, "We can't just sit on our asses here! The geth will bring reinforcements behind us, and when we do, we'll be butchered!"

Suddenly, the juggernaut's onslaught ceased. It was either reloading, or its spitfire had overheated. Either way, James was immediately ecstatic.

"Finally!" the marine exclaimed, peaking out and immediately aiming with his Revenant at the source of his irritation, screaming spanish abuse as he held down the trigger on full-auto.

The LMG was nowhere near as ridiculously powerful as the juggernaut's spitfire, but it still did alot of damage. The juggernaut had been in the process of waiting for its weapon to cool down while reloading when the first bullet struck, followed by the rest of the burst. Its body jerked to and fro as James peppered it. First its shields put up resistance, but they were soon gone, and bits of plating were either blown off or torn asunder from Vega's onslaught. Meanwhile, the juggernaut just continued its dance, rounds slamming into it constantly.

And then the Revenant clicked empty.

The rest of the geth platoon, in this time, brought up their weapons and fired. James managed to duck in time though, the fire missing him entirely as he angrily grabbed at his bandolier for a fresh clip, "Damn  _puta_  of a gun! I almost had that  _pedazo de mierda_!"

"This time, keep your head down, hothead," Kaidan chastised angrily, "You almost got yourself killed. That prime could have blown your head right off."

James glared at him, as if resentful of the accusation, "Hey, I almost had that damn thing. Just a few more seconds-"

"-and you'd be dead. Keep your head down until Shepard orders you to attack," Kaidan ordered, turning back to Marcus, "What do we do, Shepard?"

"Well, we can't stay here. That'll just give the geth time to flank us, and when that happens, we're done," Marcus turned around to Kal, before turning back to Kaidan, quickly formulating a plan, "I have an idea. Its risky, but right now, its better than where we're at."

"If it involves you charging them, you can forget it," Tali dismissed, coming to his side instantly, fixing him with a firm glare; her eyes narrowing into slits, "I just got you back. I'm not about to lose you to the same people we're trying to make peace with."

He grinned, placing a hand on her cheek comfortingly, "I'm not suicidal, Tali. I've got my omni-shield. I'll hold back against their fire, while Kasumi gives Kal her cloak and I give Kal my Cain."

"You called me, sir?" Kal asked, coming to his side as he slammed a fresh thermal clip into this rifle, Madi moving beside EDI to provide colloborative fire.

Marcus turned to him, smirking. He slapped the man on his shoulder, gripping it tightly, "Kal, you're my man for this job. You want to cause a hellava alot of damage? Like, say, annihilate an entire platoon?"

He could practically see the quarian grinning, "I'll take what chances I get to blow up some bosh'tets, sir."

"Excellent trooper," he reached up and removed the heavy piece of hardware, holding it for Kal to retrieve. The quarian took it willingly, seemingly able to wield it without much trouble. Soon, Kasumi appeared, sighing heavily.

"You better not lose this," Kasumi warned the quarian, handing him the cloaking unit itself, "That's a one in a life time piece of technology. Only tactical cloak that can be used constantly."

Kal tenderly took the device, and with good reason; Kasumi was giving him a death glare that said 'lose or damage this, and your life won't be worth living.' The more he thought about the glare she was giving, the more he tried to stiffle a chuckle.  _Pretty sure she gave me the same glare when she gave the cloak to me prior to the Bahak Incident._

Kal turned back to Marcus, giving a nod, "I won't fail, sir."

"You don't know what you're even doing yet," he replied. A swarm of shots began to ping off their cover and they migrated, watching their previous cover disintegrate from a hail of plasma fire.  _I can see why James is so pissed now. That juggernaut will be the death of us._ The ground shaking as Liara's cover was bombarded quickly changed that opinion.  _Actually, scratch that. That_ _ **prime**_ _will be the death of us._

He nodded back at Kal, "I want you to get behind their lines. Then, use that Cain to destroy the reserve platoon. That should also divert their attention long enough for a counterattack. Also, when you fire...make sure you're a decent distance away. And make sure you're holding it right. If you don't, the recoil will tear your arm off. Just...make sure you're far away. And use the cloak to sneak over there; you won't reach them otherwise," he turned to the catwalks above, "I recommend firing from up there. Less likely to be vaporized from the blast."

Kal's eyes widened behind his helmet, cautiously looking down at the huge weapon in his hand, "Just what payload does this  _menesti_ have?"

He smiled, "Its got a nuclear payload. It-"

"Once fired, it will detonate with the force of 1.0E, Negative 6 kilotons of TNT. Comparable, this equals to about 1000 Microtons of TNT, which equals 1 milliton. This will cause an explosion radius of-"

"Thank you...EDI," Marcus interrupted, turning back to the quarian with a raised eyebrow, "In simpler terms, look away when you fire. Retinas and nuclear blasts don't mix well. Is there an issue with big blasts?"

"None at all," Kal snapped back, grinning, "Big explosions equals a happy marine; that stereotype stays true with me. And if it gets us out of this, then I'll be able to wield it with pleasure, even if it does almost tear off my arm."

"A pity it only has one missile, but it'll do," Marcus stated, slapping the man on the shoulder as he slotted the cloaking module into the side of his belt, "Now go kick some ass, Reegar. We'll draw their fire. I'm sure the geth will actually notice the distortion of the cloak if we don't."

"Just don't tell Madi. She'll get nuts. You know how women are," the quarian grinned, nodding, "Wish me luck, Shepard. Keelah Se'lai!" And with that, he disappeared in a fizzle of electricity, only the bare outline of his body could be seen before he dashed out from cover, now nowhere to be seen.

"Now what?" Kaidan asked, wincing as another shot pinged off his cover.

"We draw their fire," he ordered, dropping into a prone position with the marine as they crawled forwards.

It didn't take long for them to arrive, and when they had, he quickly propped himself up on his back, placing it against the cover behind him, and motioned to his team, "All of you, Kal's going to flank the enemy force and take out their reserve force. I'm hoping the geth's new emotions will cause confusion when the blast occurs. Until then, Kal will need some cover. Give it all you have. On my mark."

"You sent Kal out there!?" Madi hissed over the radio, "Without telling me!?"

"Now isn't a great time for this conversation, Madi," Marcus barked back, slamming a new clip into his new pulse rifle after removing the old one, "Just get ready to open fire."

"I can't believe this! He could get hurt! They could  _kill him_! I bet you wouldn't have sent Tali out there if it was necess-"

"Kal will  _die_ if you don't fucking knock it off! You can chastize me later! Now get up and draw some fire! All members, open fire! Pick your targets and empty your clips on the fuckers!" Without hesitation, he jumped up, stood fully and aimed directly at a geth shock trooper, and opened fire.

Both forces opened fire on the other in a blaze of red and orange and purple, shots slicing through open air in a city of destructive ordnance. Some shots pinged off the floor or railing or walls, while others hit their targets, pinging off shields, armor or shredding them entirely.

Four geth troopers didn't survive the onslaught, immediately cut down in an unrelenting torrent of gunshots, optics shattering, armor flying and circuits blown clear of their hosts. A sniper shot pierced a rocket trooper through the neck, the immense force of the heavier weapon leaving a gaping hole in the platform's head, causing it to hang limply on its side. It fired three rockets in this state, all of them flying across the room and missing their targets completely, either taking out a chunk of wall or detonating harmlessly in the air as their timers' expired. The rocket trooper in question slouched forward, and quickly died, white liquid gushing across the floor in thick clumps.

Biotics joined the fray, with pushes and shockwaves slamming into their ranks, causing the juggernaut to stutter slightly, giving them a little of a reprieve. Even the prime seemed to jerk, throwing off its aim only a bit as one of its pulsating barrages missed Javik by an inch. Regardless, the prothean ducked, hissing from the immense heat that had licked at his skin as it passed.

Five hoppers were tossed aside by one shockwave, buying his squad enough time to deal more damage. A shock trooper, its shields gone, was eviscerated by a warp field slamming into it, circuits exploding and metal imploding as its atoms were slowly eaten away, piece by piece. James' Revenant just coughed a steady beat, shredding two more troopers and three rocket troopers in its unsteady rampage across the battlefield.

Javik's particle rifle bit into the shields of the juggernaut with the aid of Kasumi's, Liara's and EDI's SMGs, but they did little and less, and before long, the juggernaut was back in a position to relaunch its offensive. To make matters worse, several geth platforms had appeared on the upper catwalks above them, five of them being rocket troopers, while one of them was the unmistakable form of a geth sniper. It held a Javelin sniper rifle in its hands, a weapon of geth design, and its optics glowed bright crimson and was more elongated; a testament to its enhanced vision. It went into a prone position, its rifle placed before it and fired its first shot.

He watched Kaidan shoot backwards from the shot, crying out over the radio. For a moment, his heart almost stopped, turning in horror as he wondered if the wound had killed his long time friend. To his relief, it had only been the shock of the impact that caused Kaidan to shout out; not an injury. His shields were done for though, so Kaidan quickly rolled back into the cover before the sniper could get off another shot.

The geth prime send its drone ahead as a vanguard, before quickly deploying a gun emplacement; it was a large drone that hovered in place, but was equipped with high-caliber pulse cannon, which was extremely deadly. Its turret deployed, the prime pushed forward, firing non-stop with its pulse cannon as its drone harassed Liara and Kasumi with electronic warfare.

He watched the juggernaut as its spitfire spun back up, the tip whirling as it gained speed, ready to deal its horrendous punishment. And this time, his squad would be chewed up in seconds as the geth's miraculous precision, reaction time and insanely fast firing crushed them.

Suddenly, there was a thunderous clash, and his body was yanked backwards.

He felt his back connect with the ground, watching as the rest of his squad were tossed about like rag dolls. Thanks to his cybernetically enhanced eyes, his retinas didn't burn off. Which meant he was allowed to see the flash of the Cain's ordnance in all its glory.

The blast did tremendous damage. He watched as the catwalk was literally yanked up into the sky, the supports holding it down snapped and peeled away like the peeling of a banana, the catwalk platforms themselves shooting through the air at speeds capable of cutting a geth armature in half. Shorn metal used for walking on became projectiles as it moved upwards, sending with it the cooked remains of the five rocket troopers and the geth sniper, all of which were totally annihilated in the blast, their remains mingling amongst the wreckage; the only sign that they had existed being a tsunami of white spray looming in the air.

The blast continued its carnage, likely leaving a massive crater in the decking. The main gun suffered no damage due to its toughened exterior, but the immense heat licked at it, blackening its side. The geth platoon was nowhere to be found, likely having been at the ground zero of the explosion, and vaporized instantly.

The geth platoon they had been fighting were knocked to the ground, and this time, even the geth prime couldn't hold itself, slamming into the ground like a slab of concrete, landing ontop of its turret and crushing it with its huge weight. The rest of the geth troopers, shock troopers, hoppers, rocket troopers and two of the destroyers were tossed about due to their light weight, smacking into the walls and breaking like twigs, or falling off the edge completely; either way, none of them were a threat any longer. Even the juggernaut had toppled, landing 'flat on its face.' The last destroyer was not so lucky, a piece of jagged metal slammed into its fuel tank. Before it knew it, the tank exploded, and the destroyer lit up in flames, the napalm mixture mixing with its white phosphorous counterpart was enough to cause the armor of the geth to melt in seconds, circuits to burst and fry, and the geth's optics to simply explode. It fell to the ground, the flames it created consuming it.

In the end, the Cain had done more than he had hoped.  _I just hope Kal didn't take my advice..._ Fires raged in the now oxygen filled atmosphere, and the debris from the explosion continued to rain, thankfully missing his team. Smaller explosions occurred occassionally, likely from the flames interacting with more volatile elements of the ship's anatomy. Either way, the way ahead had been utterly decimated.

After all that was over, all that was left was his squad, and the juggernaut and the prime. With one weapon, one blast, the tide had turned completely in their favor.

He wasn't wasting it.

"Everybody on your feet! Take them down!" Marcus barked, shaking off the intense shellshock (must be the first person to suffer shellshock from a friggin  _nuke_ , as small as it is) and leaping to his feet, running up and retrieving the pulse rifle that had fallen from his grasp, "Get up! Get 'em before they recover! MOVE! ON THE DOUBLE!" He didn't wait for his orders to be followed before pouring into the toppled juggernaut, which was admirably trying to recover itself.

Garrus was up first, joining his fire with Marcus'. James, angry at being thrown around so much and suffering from shellshock, grabbed his Revenant and poured everything into the juggernaut. The rest of his squad hurled abuse at the prime, knowing that it was the most tankish out of all of the geth they faced.

The juggernaut didn't stand a chance, even for all its firepower. The blast had destroyed its shields, and despite Marcus not seeing it before, a piece of debris and slammed into the ground, tearing off the geth's left leg at the knee. It was physically incapable of standing up, and was pathetically crawling towards its spitfire, desperate to defend itself. He almost felt sorry for it. He  _did_ feel sorry for it.  _It didn't want to do this. The Reapers_ _ **forced**_ _them to do this. All I can do now is put it out of its misery._ And that they did.

Their three-man attack, combined its lack of shields and proper mobility, killed the juggernaut quickly; its upper back was completely shredded by the time they were done. With the juggernaut finished, they quickly refocused their attention on the prime.

It was already up, its shields half-drained, but still up and running, which was impressive, given that his squad was pouring everything they had into it. Its drone had long been destroyed, and he watched as Madi, furious beyond reason, moved forward, pouring continuously into the toweing mammoth. The geth itself remained defiant to the end, picking up a target and pouring into it, even as the fire from the destroyer's ruptured tank licked towards it, the napalm and phosphorous threatening to engulf it.

Kasumi leapt over the flames, dousing them with a cryo blast before tossing a couple of grenades. They all detonated infront of the prime, downing its shields further. It turned towards Kasumi, who was close enough that it was able to bring its arm up and swing its pulse cannon at her.

Nimple and fast, she ducked under the sudden blow, which would have decapitated her. The prime let out a loud synthetic bellow of anger, bringing up its right foot and bringing it down mightily. Kasumi, losing her footing, fell back, but spread her legs in time for the foot to land solidly between them, denting the ground. One second slower, and her legs would be firmly crushed, every bone in them grounded into powder.

Another hoard of gunfire joined the fray, and Marcus watched with relief as Kal emerged from the flames sprinting, but holding a weapon he hadn't seen before. The prime jerked as a  _thump, thump, thump_ slammed into it, large plasma explosions racking its body. Turning, he saw Kal wielding a geth-designed weapon, this one more bulbous at the end than the pulse rifle, but from the looks of it, it wielded enormous explosive power. His Cain hung on Kal's back, although it looked as if the quarian was struggling with the weight of it, even unloaded.

He heard Madi cheer over the comm, but he didn't near it, instead rolling forward and pushing Kasumi out of the way before the prime lashed out. It tried to bring up its pulse cannon, but Marcus had had enough. This needed to end. With a sizzling pop, its shields dropped, and he seized his chance. He flared his biotics, remembering his new favourite attack; one of Jack's moves.  _Thank you, Jack._

Garnering all the power he could, he propelled his hand forward and with it, the most powerful ordnance at a man's disposal, save the Cain itself. It was bright purple in all its beauty, and the dark energy it utilized was paramount to its impact.

The prime practically disappeared as the biotic flare hit it. Its pulse cannon didn't survive the blast, and the intense light blinded him for a second before his cybernetics compensated. He watched as the prime burst apart like a over-pumped balloon, bits of metal showering everywhere and coating everyone nearby in thick white...whatever the hell it was. All that was left was its lower torso and that soon toppled backwards, falling over the railing and plummetting down below.

His biotics died down, and he surveyed the destruction around him. It was a disaster zone, more like. He examined the crater he had predicted, and all the deck plating around the ground zero had caved inwards, metal cracked and sheared, crackling as it sizzled from the radioactivity, and others having melted into sludge and combined with others before cooling, making metallic hybrids. He could see the heat waves from his position, a testament to the wrath of the Cain itself; only a mere one trillionth of Hashem's full abilities. The catwalks were non-existent, and from the looks of it, Kal hadn't taken his advice; otherwise he'd be flying pieces of meat by now. Geth corpses lay everywhere, and the ground was coated in blood...at least, that's what he had taken to calling it.  _Never understood why the geth have that white stuff. What's the use of it?_

"Even indirectly, you hold up to your reputation," Tali cooed beside him, grinning behind her mask, no doubt, "Big explosions, lots of destruction."

He turned to his wife, his smile long and large, like a kid on christmas, "I love to deliver. Still, if the geth were lethargic in their response before, they sure as hell are bringing down Fort Knox now."

"Yeah, we might as well have lit up a flare that says 'we're here, come get us'," Garrus stated dryly, sucking in deep breaths, "Suddenly, I don't feel so tired."

"Well, its not what you'd exactly call subtle, yeah," Liara agreed, smiling, "But we do have a tendency for explosions."

"You weren't kidding when you said there would be a big boom," Kal chuckled, dropping the Cain as if it was a weight he could do without. He kicked it towards him, but even then, it only slid a few feet before stopping. Marcus just smirked, picking it up without effort and slotting it onto his back, "I'm glad I chose not to do the catwalk, though."

"Yeah, why didn't you?"

"Found a better position," Kal replied, shrugging, "Further away, better view. That, and this geth juggernaut I ran into was just so kind to donate this grenade launcher to me," he held up the thing, almost waving it around, "Its surprisingly light, and packs more punch than you'd expect. I like it."

"Think you'll keep it?"

"Definitely."

"Its your toy, Reegar," Tali quipped, "Although I'd be a bit worried if I were you."

"Why?"

"Because-"

"-of me, you bosh'tet!" Madi ran towards him, slamming a fist into his gut. Kal almost wheezed from the blow, eyes widening in surprise; this was generally the reaction of the entire group, as all of them were expecting a slap or a hug; not a punch to the stomach. Marcus slowly turned to Tali, who also had her eyes widened at the scene.  _I hope she's not taking notes..._

"You idiotic, imbecilic, unbelievable...idiot!" she growled, waiting for the marine to stand up. When he was fully up once more, the geth grenade launcher holstered on his back, Madi wrapped his body in a tight hug, arms tossed around his broad form. He hesitantly returned it, not sure what to make of his situation. He saw Madi's vocalizer flash, meaning she had said something, but it had not been said through the comm link.  _A private link._ What she said had put Kal's guard down, and the two hugged for a few moments before they both parted, awkwardly unholstering their rifles as they returned to the group.

 _Women...I swear, sometimes I hope to understand them, and then I don't want to._ He turned to Tali again, but she seemed to be in a world of her own.  _Possibly thinking of her own, unique ways to punish my own raids of insanity._ He turned away, so as to not encourage her attention. He didn't want her to know that he knew.  _Or thought..._

Instead, he spoke to her over the team comm link, "So Tali...where to next? How do we access the main gun?"

"The gun has multiple release hatches," his wife immediately responded, bringing it up on her omni-tool, displaying a hologram of the gargartuan weapon. Alongside it were highlighted hatches lining its side, "The geth use them when they need to gain access to the interior for repairs, maintenance or just basic examination. They have one per bulkhead."

He raised an eyebrow at that, "And how many bulkheads are on this ship?"

"Sixty-four," She replied, "Sixteen of which we need to traverse to reach the engine room."

"So where's this bulkhead's hatch?" Liara asked, reloading her SMG in a hurry, obviously thinking of the massive geth army possibly heading in their direction, "We need to get moving quickly."

"Its right here actually," Tali responded, turning to their right. They all turned and looked up at where she was motioning to, and they all immediately saw it. Alongside the massive, metal tube was a large-scale metal door, shaped alongside its side. It had one haptic interface at the bottom, which was currently flashing red. Three slots latched them together, likely reinforced by alloys that could repel a MAC round. Knowing the geth, that wouldn't too surprising.

"Can we access it?" Marcus asked, turning to Tali with a look of optimism, "It looks heavily reinforced."

"It is. It would take an entire battalion of geth primes just to take a tiny hole," the quarian responded, "But I think EDI and I can hack into it. Shouldn't take too long."

They weren't joking about that. Their joint-intrusion pretty much took the geth security by surprise, as they obviously hadn't been expecting them to access the main gun.  _Geth seem to be far more sloppy this time around. I remember them being smarter than this._ Within two minutes, the hatch flew open, sliding into itself and revealing the interior of the gun inside. Light fumes poured through the gun's interior, which were immediately vented as the door opened.  _Must be fumes let over from plasma dispersion._

"Well, everybody inside. Tali, close the hatch behind us. Hopefully it'll delay the geth a bit longer," he ordered, moving towards the hatch quickly. As he watched his squad moving inside, he noted a distinct lack of James. He frowned, turning frantically to both sides, but finding nothing. Eventually, he resorted to setting up a link to the soldier, "Vega, what's your position? Vega? James?"

"Right here, loco," James announced, and he turned in time to see just what the marine had disappeared for. In his hands, gleaming brightly, was the juggernaut's spitfire. Its back and trigger were very much like a standard pulse rifle, but the front definitely had that minigun look, and James looked bright as the sun as he examined it, Revenant holstered on his back, "Just wanted to take this fine piece of high-velocity, divine intervention with me. If God is love, then call me cupid."

He could only chuckle, waving towards the hatch, "Good call, James. Now get your ass inside. You're covering the rear. Any geth appear, open up." With a grin only James would understand, he moved to catch up, James taking up the rear just as promised.

Marcus turned to look to the left, where his squad were already traversing, albeit carefully, down the gun's barrel. The tube's ceiling stretched an entire 10 meters above him, huge and monstrous. Its sides were blue and flashing, emitters likely used to eject plasma into the chamber to generate the chain reaction needed to create its deadly projectile. And they were standing inside it.

He moved to catch up with the squad, James not far behind. The sooner they disabled that signal, the better.

**{Loading...}**

_July 5, 2186_

_1139 hours._

_Main Gun, GDS-659 Class Super-Dreadnought, Geth Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar oso Machina, Major Madi'Reegar oso Machina, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, EDI, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

The main gun chamber felt like it stretched on for kilometers. It was just a neverending tube, continuous and gigantic. They spent a good ten minutes traversing it, and all the while, Marcus felt like the geth would fire up the main gun and vaporize them inside the chamber. At least it would be a quick death. Undignified, but quick.

It was a long traversal, and so far, none of the geth had attacked them. EDI had surmized that the geth didn't want to risk damage to the weapon's interior, as it could cripple the weapon's ability to fire. What was worse was that the geth were probably, as a result, were deploying troops right outside their exit point...likely an entire battalion. And this time, there would be no cover to save them.

He heard Garrus speak, Marcus turning to the turian as he spoke. He was holding his rifle with the butt against his shoulder, obviously prepared for any geth attack. James was still behind them, Javik having joined him, both of them keeping the rear secured. Kal and Madi were up front, where Madi insisted that she be with him at 'all times.' Marcus was just glad Tali wasn't so...possessive.

When the turian spoke, it was frustrated and full of irritation, clearly uncomfortable, "The geth really don't build their ships with organics in mind. No oxygen, no sound, no...comfortable corridors. This ship just creeps me out. And its just so  _big_."

"Its not that much further to the engine room," Marcus assured him, moving forward.  _I hope._

Suddenly, Tali was at his side, and he felt her bump her hips against his, a slight grin behind her mask, "I  _really_  appreciate what you're doing here, Marcus." She seemed to wink at him behind the mask, and he immediately caught on. A grin of his own slid across his lips, bumping his own hips against hers.

"Well," he pretended to ponder, shrugging, "I care deeply for the quarian people."

"The quarian people?" she giggled, "Or  _me_?"

"Do I have to choose?" he shot back.

She sighed happily, "Its good to be back on the Normandy." She fiddled with the side of her shotgun.

He patted her on the shoulder, "Let me know if it's too... _quiet_ for you to sleep. I might be able to find you someplace...louder."

She purred in response. Any response she had was cut off by Garrus' gagging.

"You two are sickening, you know that?" the turian complained, shaking his head, "Just...get a room And work it out for spirits' sake."

"Yeah fishbowl, work it out in a room. Get some exercise," Kasumi teased, coming up beside the thief. She must have retrieved her cloak from Kal, because he could see the remnants of the electricity fizzing away as she appeared.

"It would be preferable if you did not engage in the implied activities during a combat scenario," EDI added, "It would be detrimental to unit cohesion and would most likely make the squad uncomfortable."

"Could someone please tell me what's going on?" James asked, confused, "Is there something I'm not catching onto here? Somekind of hidden joke I am not aware of." The marine continued to screen the area behind them, never taking his eyes off, but constantly aware of the team conversation.

Javik was keen to make his own confusion known, frustration in his tone as he spoke, "I do not understand the purpose of the captain's actions, or the quarian's. They are...erratic."

Marcus' eyes widened and he desperately tried to stem the tide, but he was too late. Once you put a question on the air, EDI was all too eager to answer.

"Shepard and Tali became physically intimate during their fight against the Collectors," EDI declared.

For a few seconds, a period of awkward silence followed, by the squad continued. He craned his head towards Tali, who was rubbing the side of her neck and trying very badly to avoid anyone's gaze. EDI showed signs of confusion, not knowing why her squad was uncomfortable with the information they requested. He heard Garrus trying to stiffle a chuckle, and Kasumi just flat out giggled. James and Javik didn't say anything. Liara, Keeling, Kal and Madi said nothing. Kaidan was also silent. For Marcus, his cheeks flashed bright red behind his mask, the heat combining with is built-in heating systems to create a very hot atmosphere.  _It certainly got hot in here very quickly..._

Finally, Keeling spoke, "Well, with all due respect sir, that was...unexpected. Just...odd."

"Yeah,  _ **too**_ much information," James added, sounding a bit reserved himself; afraid he'd say something disrespectful.

Javik didn't bother holding his thoughts back, "Interspecies mating? A pointless exercise. I believed the captain to be more intelligent than this. It appears primitive tendecies are still prominent in this cycle."

"Noted, Javik," Marcus finally spoke, "And  _ **thank you**_ EDI...we'll be having a very long talk... _later on_. About the release of personal information."

EDI was still confused, "I do not understand. Lieutenant Vega asked for the information, and I simply provided an accurate response."

"That's the point EDI," Marcus tried to get out, drowning out Garrus' stiffled choking, "It was... _too_ accurate."

"Is that not my task? To provide accurate analysis on situations?"

"Not when it's personal. That's between me and Tali, noone else."

"Its not exactly a secret, Shep," Kasumi backed up.

Tali piped up, clearing her throat awkwardly, "She still didn't have to say it like...that."

"Oh, come on...," Garrus started, able to keep back his laughter now, keeping it under control less he found himself on the ground, Marcus punching him to death, "...you have to admit it, it was pretty funny."

"I'm warning you, Garrus," Marcus replied, "Stop. Or else."

"Or else what?" Garrus asked smugly, "You've got nothing, Marcus."

"Oh really?" Some of the heat in Marcus' cheeks disappeared, and a smile creased his lips, about to burn Garrus' smug world to the ground with a single word, "How about we test that out? What do you ya say,  _Garbear_?"

Garrus' stiffled laughter stopped, and the grin dropped from his mandibles. Before he could stop it, Kasumi and Tali burst out laughing, Kal and Madi chuckled, and Liara giggled lightly. He could even hear Keeling... _Keeling..._ stiffling a laugh, while Kaidan outright guffawed. James was wracking himself, while Javik just shook his head.

"Garbear? Holy shit, and I thought I had a penchant for nicknames, Scars!" James roared, trying to breathe as he laughed, "That's just gold!"

Garrus fixed Marcus with the largest glare he could muster, "I will kill you."

Marcus just continued to grin, "Payback's a bitch, and payback...is served. Nice and hot. I hope you like it slow-roasted."

"Spirits take you to hell."

Javik sighed heavily, "This activity is pointless. We should be-"

Suddenly, the Normandy comms pinged, Marcus' HUD flashing red as Joker contacted him. Recovering from his fit of laughter, he hit the response, clearing his throat, "Shepard here."

"Ah, we got a problem out here, Shepard," Joker stated, sounding worried. His tone seemed hurried and rushed, as if he was desperately trying to relay the information extremely fast. What remained of Marcus' amused expression dissolved into a frown.  _What's going on out there?_

"What is it?" he responded, frown deepening.

"The quarians..." Joker began, clearing his throat, "The quarians just jumped into the system."

EDI jumped in from her position on the geth super-dread, speaking through his comms, "I am detecting twelve thousand, fourteen hundred and eighteen separate ship-based signatures, as well as nineteen thousand smaller signatures that fit the profiles of basic fighters. They are approaching Rannoch at full military thrust and will be in weapons range in five seconds."

"Twelve thousand..." Tali whispered. She gasped, whorling to face Marcus with widened eyes, "That's the Heavy Fleet!"

 _What the fuck is Gerrel doing? I told him to hold back!_ He turned to EDI, anger flashing on his face, "Get me a link with the Neema."  _He better have a good excuse..._

"Sending comm prompt now," EDI replied.

_What the hell does he think he's doing? What stunt is he trying to pull? If the Migrant Fleet in all its strength couldn't take on the geth fleet, what makes him think just the heavy fleet will do the job? He knows the signal isn't down, which means the geth fleet is still at full strength. Surely he wouldn't be stupid enough to-_

_Oh shit._ No, no, he really  _would._

_That trigger-happy DEGENERATE!_

"Request...rejected," EDI replied, "He has refused the request."

His eyes filled with fury, "He  _what_?"

Suddenly, Joker cried out over the comms, "Oh  _fuck_! All hands, brace for-"

If the super-dreadnought's kinetic barriers weren't already up, the ship probably would have shuddered from the impacts of an entire fleet firing upon it. But it didn't, the ship not even shaking. But he knew the attack had occurred. Gerrel had launched a suicidal raid on the super-dread in a desperate attempt to destroy it.  _That fucking_ _ **idiot**_ _..._

He turned to EDI, "EDI, status!"

"The Normandy is unharmed, although remaining docked is now longer a viable option, given our circumstances," the AI replied, unfazed, "My calculations vary between a 82.5% to 96.33% percent chance that the next volley will impact the Normandy. There is a 59.4% percent chance that the next volley will destroy the ship."

"Joker, disengage the docking protocols and get the hell out of there! Get to a safe distance and continue trying to hail Gerrel! Tell him that if he doesn't, I'll make sure to reduce his ship to  _cosmic dust_!" He turned to his squad, shaking his head, "Fuck! We need to double time this! Thanks to Gerrel, we're now on a timer."

"We weren't before?" Kaidan pondered.

"Apparently not," Tali replied in a whisper, "We need to get moving."

Marcus could tell this new development worried her. The pressure of her people dying was now back on her hands, putting unneeded pressure to the situation. And it was all Gerrel's fault. _When this is over, I'll be sure to remove that fuck from command, uncle or not._

He could see the hatch. It loomed just as large as the others they had passed, but this one was the endgame. Once they passed through this, all it would take is one elevator ride, and they'd be in engineering. Then they could end this.  _Hopefully before Gerrel gets the heavy fleet wiped out._

"The Normandy is safely disengaged," EDI declared as they approached the massive seal, looming over them like somekind of leviathan, "I have destingated an agreed safe zone for the Normandy to retreat to."

"Excellent," Marcus replied, "Stay safe, Joker. Shepard out." With that, he returned to the normal comms.  _Hopefully we won't need to find another way out of here._

He turned to Tali, and nodded, "Open the hatch. EDI, you know the drill."

In seconds, the hatch slid open, and to his delight, no geth were waiting for them.  _Maybe they've set up an ambush somewhere else._ Hopefully not in engineering.

As soon as the hatch was open, Tali and EDI were through, the rest of his team following. Eventually, all that was left was James, Javik and himself. With a sigh, he joined them, motioning for them to move ahead while he held the rear. But as he gave the order, the entire gun turned bright... _white._

He blinked, and he noticed James and Javik had paused. Marcus was confused for a second, not sure what had caused the flash, when he saw it. The emitters burning brighter and brighter, the air getting hotter and hotter, the end of the gun beginning to spin faster and faster until it gave a resounding screech as the machinery grinded together, reaching a speed where they all blurred together. It became clear in an instant, even before he heard Tali screaming into his comm, and James grabbing at his arm.

With no time left, he brought his biotics and  _shoved._ In a second, the dark energy channelling through his body sent both him and James propelling through the air to land on the platform outside, Javik already waiting. They both landed with a thud, Marcus ontop of James as the air was driven from their lungs. A mere moment later, the hatch fully closed, sealing as all three locks grinded together.

A moment later, and the gun glowed at its brightest apex before expelling the light it gathered, his squad watching as said light stretched out along the tube until it consumed it. The light persisted for a few moments before dissipating, the massive  _phroom_ sound of its firing fading into non-existence.

"Keelah," Kal exclaimed, "We almost got vaporized. That would not have been a very dignified death."

"Especially for the crew of the ship that the weapon was aimed at," James added, Marcus rolling off the marine to let him stand up, the soldier grunting as he retrieved the spitfire he dropped in the process, squaring his shoulder to release the tension in them.

"We need to hurry up and disable that signal before that main gun chews up Gerrel's fleet," as if to punctuate this, the main gun began to charge again, white light building up as the whorl built up. Turning, he brought his eyes to Tali's, who was already anticipating it.

"We'll save them. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it," he stated, nodding, "But first, the signal. Where do we go from here?"

"That door," Tali stated, motioning to the door leading to the exit of the bulkhead, "From there, we go down a few more corridors until we arrive at the main rear service elevator for junction 9. We can use that to get to Deck 142, where the engine room is located. It should take us straight there. From there, we disable the drive core, and as a result, the signal itself."

"See?" he smiled warmly, tapping his helmet to her mask; their idea of a kiss with their helmets on, "It'll all be okay. Come on, we need to get moving before the geth have time to prepare further."

The squad quickly crossed the distance from their position to the door, not wanting to waste anymore time than they already had. The area they were in located in looked almost exactly the same as the one they accessed the main gun in; a ring of catwalks with ladders were stilted above on heavy weight supports, with an access corridor above them, all of them in the blank, grey and silver architecture of the geth. Overall, it looked like a carbon clone.  _Geth aren't much for creativity._

_**A/N:** _

_**Had to split this chapter in two once again because it ended up being 20,000 words long. Anyway, third part is almost done, so it should be released sometime soon, possibly this weekend (latest: Sunday, Victoria, Australian time). So yeah. Also, please review. If you're still here and reading this after my absurdly long hiatus, please leave a review.** _

_**Also, you probably think I've forgotten about the interrogation scenes at the end of each chapter. I haven't. I just don't do them at the end of multi-part chapters until the last part, where I then add it. Just don't see the point.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	41. Cold Liberties, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise awaits the squad at the drive core. A foolish mistake is made that nearly costs them their lives.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:**

**COLD LIBERTIES PART THREE**

_July 5, 2186_

_1144 hours._

_Bulkhead 15, GDS-659 Class Super-Dreadnought, Geth Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_Second Morning War, First Battle of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar oso Machina, Major Madi'Reegar oso Machina, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, EDI, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

The door ahead had no haptic interface. However, that problem solved itself when the door opened and a squad of hoppers tried to crawl through. They were met with a beam of particle energy, the beam slicing through the optics of one and causing it to instantly slam into the ground, followed by the beam melting through the arm of another, melted circuitry and sparking machinery clumping to the ground as its white mix spurted from its wound. A hail of fire from the rest of the squad quickly dispatched the squad, mowing them down quickly and efficiently, leaving only charred wrecks and chewed up mechanical corpses.

His squad moved over them like a train, rifles screening the corridor ahead with cold effiency and no nonsense attitudes. A geth hunter attempted to surprise them from around one corner, but like a flash, Tali had spun and fired her plasma shotgun, having seen the outline of its cloaked form. The blast took it fully in the gut, causing its cloak to falter for a few moments as it righted itself and the invisibility device tried to compensate for the impact. But it was too late. Following up her attack, Tali fired again, and this time the shot blew its optics apart, sending the platform hurling back, its own plasma shotgun falling from its hands to the ground.

They continued up the next corridor, this time encountering a trio of destroyers reinforced by two geth snipers, both of them aligned on the sides of the room with their sniper rifles at the ready. Kal didn't even wait for Marcus' go, falling into a crouch and letting it rip with his grenade launcher, sending a hurl of fire into the enemy ranks.

The lead destroyer was torn asunder, the plasma tearing its upper torso into shards of metal and circuitry. The barrage continued to land a similiar fate upon the other two destroyers. One of the geth snipers, during the infinite amount of time it took for this to happen, found a target and fired, sending a round clean through Javik's shields through, right through his shoulder. Javik did not scream in pain, but rather in irritation as he brought his other arm up, and released a burst of green energy from his fingertips into the sniper, causing it to stumble. The squad then charged, while Kaidan took care of the injured Javik, blood spurting from his wound and dripping down his ornate armor.

Liara encased the stumbling sniper within a biotic stasis, holding it in position until she was able to reach it. Closing the distance quickly, she shoved her SMG under its chin and let loose a string of rounds, all of which ate up its optics and burst out the top of its head, leaving it a totalled ruin. When the stasis field ended, its body slumped to the ground, the glow of its optics now absent.

The second sniper was quickly overwhelmed, his team taking it out with brutal ease, leaving it a chewed up derelict. Just as they contemplated their victory however, Marcus saw something out of his peripheral vision, and he turned around extremely slowly...

...to watch a geth prime round the corner, pulse cannon bared.  _Oh, for fuck sake..._

The geth prime's reign of terror was over before it started however, and Marcus watched with shock and glee as James immediately brought his spitfire to bear, his own grin creasing his features. "Take this, you  _pedazo de mierda_! Kiss my ASS!" And with a gradual spin up, he opened fire. High speed rounds made short work of the prime's usually powerful kinetic barriers, and the plasma made short work of its heavy armor. Such was the force of the geth minigun that pieces of armor actually flew off as they were decimated, and some punched cleanly through the prime itself, spitting it out the other end and denting the wall behind it. The prime just jerked and shuddered as the onslaught crippled it.

Eventually, James tilted the weapon upwards, and the rounds began to chew up the geth's optics. The velocity was too much, and the optics literally  _blew inwards_ , like a tornado knocking down the walls of a house, sending metal flying outwards behind it, showering the area behind it. Finally, James ceased his attack as the weapon overheated, allowing him time to reload. The prime just fell backwards, its long dead corpse hitting the ground with a tremendous tremor.

"Holy shit, loco," James exclaimed, sighing happily as the weapon's heat finally dispersed from the weapon, allowing him to reach the slot so he can eject the spent clip, "This monstrosity is  _my_ monstrosity. It's mine, no argument needed."

"It's all yours, James. Secure a perimeter, prepare to move. According to the schematics, the elevator should be down the next corridor." With that stated, he quickly moved back to where Kaidan and Javik were situated.

The prothean was standing up, green blood steadily trickling down his chest from the wound in his shoulder, which was now coated firmly in medi-gel. The prothean looked like he wasn't even in a tiny bit of pain, although knowing the ancient soldier's personality, he was probably deliberately hiding it.

"I've added medi-gel to his wound, Shepard, but his shoulder's messed up pretty bad. At least a few broken bones," Kaidan announced, holding his rifle in both hands steadily and firmly, ready for combat. His armor was potmarked with damage, but none of the rounds looked to have punched through, thankfully, "I seriously don't recommend combat. I think Chakwas needs to take a look at him."

"I will fight," Javik growled, "The battle is almost concluded. I will hold for a while longer."

"I'll be the decider of that, Javik, and right now, that doesn't look to be happening," he stated firmly, fixing the prothean with a firm gaze. The soldier didn't back down, glaring back as his superior even as Marcus turned back to Kaidan. The sentinel hesitated for a moment before giving a hesitant nod. His fate decided, Marcus turned back, sighing, "You'll be waiting this one out, Javik. Then you're going to let Chakwas and Michel look at that injury when we get back to the ship. I'm not having a liability on the team."

Javik bore his teeth, looking to be ready to burst with anger, "I will  _not_ sit down while you're fighting the battle!"

"You will stand down, Javik," he hissed.

"I will not," Javik hissed, stepping into a space less than inch from the captain, but Marcus did not back down, " _I will not_."

Marcus moved to say something when Tali was at his right, her shotgun at the ready, glaring daggers at the prothean. Liara joined him on his left, equally glaring, and Garrus' fingers, although he didn't know it, tensed on his trigger finger.

"Back off, Javik," Tali hissed, "If he gives you an order, you follow it. Being from a species of  _military subjugators,_ I thought you'd  _understand_ authority."

The prothean crossed his arms, shaking his head, "In my cycle, a commanding officer didn't have his soldiers sit on the sidelines because of a flesh wound. If a warrior was hit, he kept fighting until he was killed. That was the way of the Empire. No weakness was permitted, such as you would."

He gritted his teeth, trying his best not to punch the prothean, "We'll talk about your opinion of my command when we get back to the ship. I don't care how things were done in your cycle because that cycle is done and gone. The Reapers wiped your people out, and your bloody martyrdom didn't stop them anymore than it did for the races before you. Now you're going to get over your  _fucking pride_ and let  _us_ handle this. Because, unlike your Empire, I  _value_ the lives of those under my command. And that's exactly what this is;  _my_ command. You want to get vengeance against the Reapers? Then learn to follow my orders. And know when you're beaten."

Javik remained persistent for the next few moments and for a second, he believed Tali would genuinely have to beat him onto the ground. But the prothean's posture slouched after a moment, becoming less stiff as he sighed, stepping back.

"Very well," the prothean stated, "You are correct, captain. I will let your medical professional look at me. But once this is completed, I will  _insist_ on joining the next combat mission."

He nodded, turning to Kaidan, "He's your responsibility. Keep him safe. EDI, with Kaidan. Keep Javik safe. Keep to the middle." Turning away, he nodded to Tali and Liara to thank them for their support, to which Tali playfully winked, lowering her shotgun, to which he only just realized she had aimed at Javik.  _Glad she didn't fire it._

"James, front and center. I need that big gun of yours covering the vanguard. Everybody else, let's move! Straight to the elevator, not much further!"

That wasn't a lie. They continued down the corridor, albeit at a slower pace due to Javik's injury, and at the end was the service elevator. Marcus moved up first, screening the area to make sure no geth were waiting for them. The elevator was already waiting for them, quiet conveniently, its sleek, smooth surface sitting still and unmoving. The shaft stretched above them and likely below. As he looked up, he saw numerous other decks with platforms similiar to the one they were standing on. The shaft above only stretched up twelve more decks, until it reached a dead end in the ceiling, where a circled light sat, glowing bright blue.

The console for the elevator lay ahead, shaped in the usual geth fashion. Positive the area was clear, he lowered his pulse rifle and waved his squad aboard, watching the entrance as EDI hacked into the console. Her fingers flicked across the console rapidly, code flashing across the screen at unfathomable speeds. Eventually, when she was finished, the elevator began to descend towards the bottom, where the engine room awaited for them, four decks below. As it descended, the elevator made a subtle hum, rotating on the gears holding it up and allowing its descent.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked up.  _One soldier is shot up and Gerrel's firing on the geth in a suicidal charge. This mission has gone to shit faster than I could fathom._

His eyes landed on the platform just above the one they had been on. And as they passed the third deck, two forms emerged.

It didn't take him long to make out their forms to be that of rocket troopers. Their optics tilted downwards, and he watched in horror as they took aim with their missile launchers. He quickly turned to his squad, watching the elevator arrive at the fourth deck. As the elevator ceased movement with a click, he roared into their comms, " _ **RUN!**_ "

His squad began to move as the rocket troopers fired. Two, blue streaks of light burst from their weapons and arched down towards them, plumes of smoke following them like harbingers. They slammed into their intended targets with earnest, the supports torn asunder as the explosion sheared through the metal and sent shards flying in multiple directions. With two supports destroyed, the elevator immediately shuddered, and tilted  _diagonally._

Most of his squad were on the platform by the time it tilted the way it did, except for himself, Kasumi and Keeling. Kasumi was near the top, and with a leap reached the platform and climbed into it. Keeling was a little worse for wear, but with startling precision, she managed to use the ridges and creases of the elevator's floor to climb up and reach the top, pulling herself up and over. Now there was just him.

He kept his footing steady, looking up as he saw the duo of rocket troopers reloading. One more salvo, and the elevator would plummet, taking him with it. He doubted he would survive the hundred of decks fall. He considered the terrain before him, where he could place his feet, and eventually came to one conclusion in his analysis; he would have to run.

As if to beckon him and complete his decision, Tali appeared, landing on her knees as she reached out her hand, "Marcus, run! Grab my hand!" She reached out further, placing her shotgun down on the deck as she used it to stop herself from falling off, steadying herself.

 _It's now or never. Do or die._ He looked up once more, and watched the rocket troopers taking aim once more. His eyes widened, and he decided in that second.  _Fuck it!_ His eyes locked with Tali's, holstered his rifle, and took off with a sprint.

He reached the edge and wrapped his hand in Tali's just as the rockets impacted again, destroying the remains of the elevator's supports. With a screech, a churn and a horrible bending of metal, the elevator yanked loose of whatever was left holding it up, and shot downwards, slamming into the shaft's wall with a huge clang as it spun and fell to the many decks below.

He dangled from the air, watching as Tali was joined by Garrus, EDI and James as they hefted him up and over onto the platform, allowing him to crawl up. Once up, he rolled off, seeing Garrus and James holding onto their sore arms as they recovered from having to heft off the tonnage of a man. EDI looked no worse for wear, and Tali...

A three-fingered hand hovered above him as he sucked in breath, and he grinned as he looked into the person's eyes. He grabbed her hand, allowing her to help him up, standing up and unholstering his rifle. Tali smiled at him behind the mask, before he found himself suddenly encased in her arms.

"I almost thought I lost you," Tali whispered into their private link.

He smiled warmly, hugging her back, placing his face in the crook of her neck, "You were worried?"

She gave a disheartened laugh, "Me? Of course! Losing my husband because I got sloppy and let the geth get through my door hacks? Think of my reputation!"

He pulled back, and held her at visual range, looking into her eyes. She simply looked back, but he could see the smile behind her mask.

"Yeah," he decided, letting go as he turned around, moving through the door, where the rest of the squad had already set up a defensive position, "You were worried." With that, he switched back to the squad comms, cutting off Tali's response. He just grinned.

They moved through a few more corridors before finally arriving at the engine room. EDI and Tali, as per usual, hacked into the door and it opened with a hiss, Marcus passing through first, as he always did.

The geth super-dreadnought's engine room certainly wasn't something he had seen in engine room's before. It was multi-storied, taking up at least eight decks. Along these eight decks were numerous, intermixing catwalks, maintenance causeways, vents, ladders, elevators, consoles and bright lights. Wiring hung loosely from some corners, showing just how hurried the construction of the super-dread's creation was.  _Guess the Reapers hurried its creation along._ Doors lined the perimeter of the circular room, at least seventeen to be seen, all likely leading to different areas of the vessel or further into the back. As he looked up, he had to crane his neck just to see the ceiling, easily stretching up over sixy meters.  _Christ..._

In the middle, hovering just above them; not close enough to touch, but close enough to be large, was the drive core. It was mostly just a large, grey sphere, segmented into tiny sections that could slide apart independently if ordered to...or at least he gathered so. They all slotted into each other like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and from the cracks he could see pulsing red energy, which instantly gave him the same forboding feeling he felt whenever around Reaper technology. _The whole drive core isn't even geth. Its purely Reaper tech._

_**And so you've come, Shepard. But your efforts will be in vain, as they always have.** _

He rolled his eyes, pushing the angry voice to the back of his head. This one sounded different to the usual, however. It sounded like Sovereign, but lighter. It wasn't Harbinger, that much was obvious. But just the presence of a Reaper voice in the back of his head proved that this drive core was the source of their troubles.

He turned to Tali and EDI, giving a quick nod as he motioned to the central engineering console infront of the drive core, "You two, shut that damn signal down. The rest of you, secure a perimeter. If the geth aren't here yet, they will be soon. We need to be ready to repel them. James, cover the door we came through. Elevator might be down, but that won't stop assault drones."

Tali and EDI approached the central console, the AI immediately accessing it and bringing it to life. A holographic frame appeared infront of the pedestal, orange light illuminating a large hologram representing data streams, string commands and geth runtimes. It was all there, and they were about to bring it down. With his squad splitting to set up their position, Marcus moved over to Tali and EDI, who were already hard at work.

"How's it coming?" he quiered, holding his rifle in a tight grip.

"Surprisingly well," Tali replied, a frown in her voice, "It's...odd. The security here is atrocious. Almost like the geth didn't expect us to get this far. So far, every firewall we're coming across doesn't possess any of the Reaper code."

"However, it is likely Reaper code did exist at some point," EDI stated firmly, gathering Tali and Marcus' attentions.

"What do you mean?" Tali asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the console.

"There are gaps of code missing," the AI replied, highlighting the offending pieces and enlarging them with her deft fingers, showing lines of code that are just absent, "This is largely prominent in the firewalls closer to the core drive core programming."

Tali just got more confused, which could be found in the odd stutter in her voice, "But that makes sense. Even if he someone had begun hacking this before we did, the first firewalls we come across would be weaker on the  _outside_ , not closer to the inside. That would suggest..."

EDI finished her sentence, "...that someone from the interior network is currently working themselves outward. There is someone actively trying to disable the firewalls from inside."

Marcus frowned, shaking his head, "I'm no expert in engineering, but doesn't that mean the person hacking would have to be  _inside_ the drive core?"  _That makes no sense! The signal can't possibly be destroying its_ _ **own**_ _firewalls! Besides, Tali said it herself! Nothing can beat this software except Reaper tech; its simply too advanced! Too sophisticated! How the hell could they possibly-_

"You're correct," EDI replied, finishing her touches, "It is more than likely we will discover soon just what is causing this. I have finished breaching the firewalls. I can disable the signal whenever you're ready; however, this will cause the drive core to shutdown, which will disengage the super-dread's engines and primary propulsion."

He shrugged, "It's not the Normandy, so I don't see why not. Shut it down, EDI. People, get ready. We're going to have alot of company after this." With that, he nodded to the two of them, and they immediately made their finishing touches. Within moments, the console deactivated, and he watched the drive core's red light grow in strength before suddenly bursting, driving its way back to a dim light before simply ceasing. For a few seconds, nothing happened, all was silent. The drive core just sat there.

Then one of the metal pieces slided downwards, making a hole in the carapace. And just like that, pieces began sliding apart, making more and more holes as they all unfolded like origami. By the time it was finished, the slots had piled up at the top, revealing nothing but a large mess of wiring, cabling and a pulsing light in the middle, which flashed on and off at erratic intervals.

And standing in the middle, hanging like a crucified traitor, connected to the piles of wiring and cabling in the center of the core, was a geth of trooper size and designation.

As the drive core went offline, he noticed alot of the lights in the engine room dimmed significantly, and that the pulsating tubes had simply died out. The ship was now officially stationary; unable to move to FTL or even use its basic thrusters. Dead in the water, for all intents and purposes. But Marcus knew it didn't mean much; the super-dread still had full access to its powerful arsenal, and was able to tear the quarians apart, even in its vulnerable position.

 _And its shields still up, the quarians will have a hard time destroying this goliath._ Hell, the ship was likely being hit by numerous impacts, but from where he was standing, nothing might as well be happening; the ship didn't so much as quake.

The geth itself was pretty ordinary. Standard grey armor, bright optics, and cabling and circuitry running through its body-

There was a gaping hole straight through its chest. And its right shoulderpad was...was...

Black and red stripes.  _The black and red stripes of the N7 Program. That and a gaping hole in its chest? There's only one geth like that..._

Before Tali, EDI or Marcus could even speak, the geth tilted its head up, and its optics immediately landed on Marcus, speaking as it sounded...pleased, "Shepard-Commander."

He couldn't believe his luck. " _Legion?_ " he shook his head, hardly believing it to be true, "Holy shit, Legion! What the fuck!? This is the last place I expected to find you, especially hooked up to Reaper tech."

"This was not our decision," Legion defended, and he believed it instantly. Not just because he had fought alongside the geth infiltrator, but because of the way it was strapped up; he wasn't kidding when he said it looked crucified. Its arms were held horizontally across, and its feet were just dangling from all the cabling and wires it was hooked up to. The insides of its chest flashed brightly, showing all the information running through it. Reaper information, likely intermixed with geth information.

Tali shook her head, tilting her head at the geth as she kept her arms firmly crossed across her chest, "While I trust you, Legion, I don't trust the geth. The Reapers filled them with Reaper code and now they are controlling them. How do we know you're not programmed with it?"

Legion's response was measured and calm, just as it always had been, resonating with that deep, synthetic tone, "We denied the upload process. The geth accepted the code out of fear, but we did not. We refused to ally with the Old Machines. As a result, this platform was used as a signal amplifier. We believe organics see this concept as 'ironic.' We believe this is suitable, given our predicament."

He nodded, frowning, "The geth were afraid of the Reapers?"

Legion lightly shook its head, "We do not fear the Reapers," its optics tilted to Tali, and remained silent. Marcus understood and nodded. He understood what the geth meant without it finishing, and so did Tali. The quarian, ashamed, lowered her head, sighing heavily as she landed a hand on her faceplate.

"We understand your caution," the infiltrator continued, taking their silence as a source of hesitation among them, "Once freed, we will submit to any restraints you deem necessary."

Marcus shook his head, bracing against the railing, "Are you saying you don't have any part of the Reaper code inside you? Not a single strand?"

"That is correct," Legion replied, "The Old Machines extended their offer, and the geth accepted. We did not. However, they did not force it upon us as we expected. Instead, we were captured and used as the signal amplifier. We were in the process of eliminating the firewalls to release ourselves as soon as possible. Your release was a well-calculated, timely move."

"Keelah," Tali laughed, shaking her head as she too leaned against the railing, but he noticed her eyes shift slightly beneath the mask; she was smiling, "My ancestors would hate me for saying this but...its good to see you again, Legion."

"We accept this reply of thanks and relay it in kind, Creator Tali'Shepard," the geth's headflaps creased downwards, almost as if the geth were smiling. However, as quickly as the greetings were established, the geth infiltrator was back to business, Legion's headflaps returning to their usual position and turning to face Marcus, "We must warn you. The drive core was not the source of the signal, but this unit itself. To disable the signal, you must release us from our shackles. It uses our networking architecture to broadcast the Old Machine command signal to the fleet and ground forces. Once disabled, the signal will cease transmission."

He nodded, holstering his rifle as he began to move around the railing and towards Legion, "Well, I can help with-"

"You cannot physically remove me from these shackles without inducing severe damage to this platform," Legion hurriedly stated, as if terrified Marcus would hurt it in some way, "The process must be done from the release console. It is located on the first story of catwalks."

"I'll deal with it," Tali announced, brushing past him as she ran to the nearest set of ladders. Once there she immediately grabbed the highest rung she could reach, and began climbing as fast as she can. He turned back to Legion, sighing heavily.  _At least this day has some brightness in it, although I don't why I consider a friend being used as a glorified signal booster and us having to rescue him is bright, but hey! Such is the fucked up thoughts of Marcus Shepard!_

"Shepard!" Kaidan cried out, and he turned back to see his squad lined in a perfect circle around their position, "We've got contacts on the motion tracker! Coming in fast and in numbers! Coming through the elevator shaft, most likely to be drones!"

"Additional contacts!" Garrus announced from his left, "Coming from one of those doors. At least a squad sized unit."

"You know what to do people, let's set the table! Engage the enemy on sight! Hold them back as long as you can!" he barked, turning back to Legion with a solemn expression. The geth did not so much as twitch in his direction, simply looking at EDI. Whatever the two of them were exchanging data about, he didn't want to know.

"Tali, you're going to need to step it u-"

He needn't have bothered, because as soon as he opened his mouth, one of the pipes burst free, then another, followed by another, and another, until eventually all of them popped loose. With nothing else holding it up, Legion fell from its position and landed on the ground with a massive thud, landing in a crouched position and leaving a slight dent in the deck plating.

Legion, he noticed was unarmed, without its usual Widow sniper rifle, or its pulse rifle. Instead the geth stood up, totally defenseless, as it turned towards him, giving a slight nod; an organic gesture it had learnt during its time on the Normandy, optics flashing more brightly for a moment to indicate it was fine. It quickly made a beeline towards them.

Arriving little less than a few meters, it came to a stop, speaking once more, "Your facial features indicate curiosity at why we chose to ally with the Old Machines."

"Wait, you  _choose_?" came Tali's shocked tone, both of them turning to see her sliding down the ladder and immediately begin rushing towards him, "Why would you do something so completely  _insane_?"

"We were left with no choice," Legion insisted, "When the creators attacked, we were unable to repel their attacks; they had developed technology better than ours; more advanced. More efficient. We were unable to defend ourselves, and as a result we were...afraid."

"Your people were scared?" Marcus asked.

"No. This is an organic concept geth are not capable of feeling. We apologize for the incorrect declaration," the geth remedied, "We were simply unsure of what to do. After exhausting every other strategic option, we retreated to Rannoch to make a final stand with the remnants of our fleet. It is then that the Old Machines extended their offer. They offered to save us."

"By uploading the Reaper code to all geth?" Marcus queried. He already knew the answer, as much as he didn't like it.

"Correct. The Old Machines promised it would save us, that it would make us more effective in combat and allow us to evolve past our limited runtime fundamentals," he answered in kind, sounding just as a robot should with its monotone, mechanical voice, "We accepted the offer out of uncertainty. The code did as they promised, and now the geth have successfully saved themselves from extinction. The geth wished to live. We survived. And now we are here."

"Wait, so if you're released, the signal should be deactivated now," Marcus stated. After a moment, and Legion's quick nod, he turned back to his squad, "Squad, check your motion trackers. Any movement?"

"Uh...no, Shepard," Kaidan and Garrus replied almost in sync with each other, which would make him laugh in any other situation, "Actually, the geth seem to have just retreated. They're gone."

_Holy shit, it worked. It fucking worked!_

"As a further gesture of cooperation, I have entered a consensus with the geth programs operating this vessel," Legion declared, and all attention turned to the geth, hanging on his words, "They have agreed that for peace with the creators to ensue, they must provide a peace offering. As a result, all ships within the fleet have ceased fire, and this vessel's weapons and barriers will remain offline."

Marcus widened his eyes, "Wait, you  _disabled_ the ship's weapons and shields? You mean...this ship is defenseless?"

"This would appear so," Legion elaborated.

He nodded, comming the Normandy instantly, "Normandy, this is Shepard. Joker, do you read me? Come in?"

Joker's response was immediate, if a bit annoyed, "This is Joker, I'm reading you clear as sky, Shepard. What do you need?"

"Have you got me a line with Gerrel?"

"Yep. EDI hacked his communications not too long ago, but wanted to wait until you needed them so as to not 'spoil the surprise.'" Some words were exchanged off the comm, and Joker returned, snorting, "Whatever, EDI. Always got to be so damn literal..."

He chuckled inwardly.  _Those two never stop. They really are like an old married couple._ "Patch me in, Joker."

A few seconds later, and Joker replied, "You're on."

"Admiral Gerrel, this is Shepard," he announced, "The signal is offline, and the geth are free of the Reaper code. They are going to cease fire as a gesture of cooperation. Hold position and do not open fire. Do you copy?"

There was silence over the line. He frowned.  _Did he hear a word I said?_

When the silence perputuated, he continued, "Gerrel, do you read? Do not  _open fire_. The geth are willing to engage in peaceful interaction, but you must-"

Suddenly a response from a familiar gruff voice, this one filled with irritation and, above all,  _lust_ , "No Shepard. Now we do this  _my way_." And then the line was cut.

He growled like a feral wolf, completely unbelieving of what just occurred, "What the fuck!? Fuck, he better not do what I think he's about to-"

As if in answer, the ship shook. Marcus was knocked to the ground by the impact, as were the rest of his squad. Legion was barely fazed, being a geth, but had flinched slightly from the impact. As Marcus looked on, three of the decks above were obliterated as a heavy round scythed through armor and decking, destroying an entire section of ship as flames roared to life in the air, sheared steel and circuitry send flying up into the air in a tornado of flame and desolation.

_That fucking_ _**profligate!** _

Like lightning, he got to his feet instantly, holding his ground even as another barrage rocked the ship. This time, the impact shook the folded drive core free from its cradle, causing it to slam into the ground and explode, bits of shrapnel and sparks fighting a melee to see who could fly the highest in the air. Marcus, ignoring the destruction all around them, reached down and held out his hand, picking Tali up. The rest of his squad were already getting up. They were likely all confused at this sudden change of events, inside Marcus' helmet, he was  _fuming_.

_Piece of shit!_

"We need to get to the escape pods!" Marcus barked, "This ship will not hold on much longer, especially with its barriers gone!"

"This vessel does not contain escape pods," Legion replied, "When geth die, we simply upload to a new platform. As a result, escape pods were not considered in the design of the vessel, as platforms can be replaced." As it finished, another explosion, and this time a console burst into flames, one of the catwalks above collapsed and slammed into the ground with a resounding clang, and one of the doors burst open, torn off their hinges and sent sliding across the floor.

He gritted his teeth, trying his best not to snap at the geth, "Is there  _any_ way off the ship that doesn't involve us dying?"

Legion stood still for a moment, obviously scanning the ship for his query. After about a moment, it came back in response, "The nearest hangar bay is exactly three hundred and twenty-four point two meters. It will contain fighters, interceptors and dropships. It is recommended we commandeer a dropship for escape purposes, as fighters and interceptors are built for up to two platforms each at maximum."

A trio of explosions rocked the walls, sending sheets of metal slamming into the ground in smoking heaps. Fires erupted, spreading through the engine room as sprinklers tried to compensate. Even one of the engines exploded, the massive fireball consuming half of the bay before extinguishing itself.

He nodded, quickly nodding to the geth, "Get us there,  _now_! People, hussle up!  _We are leaving_!" He motioned for Legion to move up ahead, with his squad following it. He noted that Javik gave no objection to having to follow a geth, so he guessed the prothean just gave up.  _That, or he's keeping his opinion to himself._ Either way, he didn't particularly care at the moment. With the ship falling apart around them, he didn't really have the gift of time.

He turned back, seeing Tali waiting for him, "Why are you still here!? Get moving!"

"Waiting for you," she replied simply.

"Well I'm here!" he barked back, grabbing her hand as he began to run. The ship shuddered again, and he would have lost his footing and collapsed if it wasn't for Tali still holding his hand. A massive thud could be heard, followed by more explosions, and he didn't stick around to find out just what happened to cause it. He just kept running.

His squad followed Legion down the maze of corridors towards the hangar at full sprint. The ship exploded all around them; lights burst, flames licked the walls, beams fell from the ceiling to slam into the ground, blocking off entire passagways. One beam collapsed and crushed a fleeing rocket trooper beneath it, metal grinding and screaming as it was suddenly smashed by its heavier cousin. Behind it, an explosion tore open a door, bending the metal and rendering it inoperable, flames reaching through the door as it tried to grasp the people desperately escaping it.

As Marcus held Tali's hand and ran, thoughts of what he was going to do to Gerrel raced through his head. He ducked left, an explosion tearing through the corridor's right side, then right; an explosion blew apart a door on his left.

_That piece of shit knew we were still onboard, and he fired anyway!_

A beam threatened to cut them off from the rest of the squad, but after drawing on his cybernetic strength, he simply knocked it aside, and continued. The blow stung his arm, and he had probably made a few bruises for himself, but he didn't care; as long as they got out of here.

_All these explosions...one of us could die...and that delinquent wouldn't care. He would see us_ _**die** _ _for his petty victory! I gave them a chance for peace, and he_ _**opened fire** _ _! The man is a warmonger, and he has to be stopped!_

They all quickly ducked through a jarred doorway, the doors jammed open due to their circuits being fried by a nearby explosion. They continued along the corridor, where numerous destroyed geth platforms rested, including a prime whose head had been split open by a piece of debris. They just jumped over its gigantic form and pressed on, his waypoint showing only a hundred meters to go. And the explosions only intensified.

_But he...he could have...he still_ _**could** _ _...kill her..._

In that moment, he let go of Tali's hand, allowing the quarian to run faster. He had been practically dragging her along, and her sudden freedom allowed her to race her ahead, her superior quarian speed allowing her to catch up momentarily. Marcus, putting all the strength he could into his cybernetics in one last push, sprinted. Fires danced around him, explosions sparked, and geth flew around him as the ship went into its death throes.

Gerrel had opened fire on a ship with one of his fellow admirals. He had deliberately opened fire on a ship with his own damn  _niece_ aboard. But most of all, and most important to Marcus, was that he fired upon a ship with... _Tali_ onboard. Gerrel's fellow admiral and his niece, but to Marcus, she was  _everything_.

And Gerrel was threatening her  _life_.

And then who would be Junior's mother? Could the kid go through that kind of trauma?

The thought only sparked furtherr  _rage_ inside. A cold pit forming in his gut.

_Oh, how I will rip that cunt a new_ _**asshole** _ _..._

Suddenly, there was bright light.

He had erupted into the hangar bay, which was enormous, just like the rest of the ship. Hangar doors were wide open, anti-gravity fields keeping them sealed from the outside vacuum. They were safe...for now. Alot of the fighters and interceptors were missing; obviously out battling the Heavy Fleet. But there were enough for them to choose from; including a dropship that Legion had just leapt onto, and was beginning to board.

A carpet bomb like series of explosions tore through the ceiling, sending a fighter plumetting from its cradle, crashing into an interceptor below it and sending both of them collapsing into the deck below, smashing with a bellow. A similiar explosion destroyed a nearby fighter, sending its debris slamming into a nearby platform, where it proceeded to slice a juggernaut in half, and completely crush two snipers under the debris.

"We need to move!" Marcus roared, "Legion, is the dropship ready!?" Another blast was too close he could feel the heat of it in his suit, pricking at his skin. The blast itself sent a hopper and a trooper toppling off the edge to their doom, and a drone spun out of control until it smashed into the docking bridge ahead of them, bits of circuitry and metal pieces spreading along the platform as it exploded upon impact.

The dropship Legion was in bobbed slightly as it detached from its cradle, quickly swiping to the side to avoid a piece of exploding rubble. Legion, moving the vessel with adequate grace, then moved back, the dropship's hull tapping against the end of the bridge platform. Outside, Marcus noted, he could see the smaller, but still gigantic, form of a geth dreadnought sliding past outside, plasma cannons brimming with harsh, boiling light as they pulsed through the stars, likely impacting upon the hull of a nearby quarian destroyer and reducing it to dust. Its sounds were silent, and the odd MAC round or missile glanced off its shields, which flared brilliantly at the impacts; all done in total silence. Not so much as a whipser was heard from the battle outside.

There situation was totally different. As if to remind them once, another explosion sounded to their left, and a platform collapsed, taking several more geth with it, crashing below.

When Legion spoke again, it was with dire urgency in its voice, despite its synthetic, mechanical monotone, "Shepard-Commander, you must board immediately. This vessel has already suffered major damage to primary systems. The drive core is now permanently offline. Port defenses are 89 percent destroyed. Main gun severely damaged. Critical shot to central core will cause critical reactor meltdown in approximately 18.2 seconds. When this occurs, an explosion will be released that will consume half of-"

"Yeah, we get it, Legion!" Marcus roared back, "We're fucked if we stay! Understood that just fine without the details!" he turned to his squad, and nodded, "Run for the damn dropship!" He waved them, his squad deciding to throw professionalism out the window as they ran full pelt to the awaiting geth aircraft, holstering their weapons and focusing everything on their sprint. Nothing else mattered but getting to that dropship... _alive_.

Marcus lagged behind, making sure everyone in the squad was safe, as was his duty. Tali lagged behind with him, but when she saw him give a nod, she turned, holstered her shotgun, and sprinted, each one of her leg movements carrying her closer to escape. He quickly followed her, his movements much slower due to his armor, even with his cybernetics aiding him. Still, he managed to keep a reasonable pace, making it halfway across the bridge in seconds, flames materializing in every direction as explosions permeated the bay.

_Almost there...keep going...almost-_

And then suddenly all his forward momentum halted, and he began to fall.

One of the beams on the ceiling had been shaken loose one particular blast above him, raining shrapnel down ontop of him. He watched the beam hit the bridge with such force that it shattered the platform like glass. It continued its downward, unstoppable plummet, taking a large section of the bridge with it, all of it imploding inwards as it took him with it.

He cried out as he reached out his arms, his survival instinct kicking in. He felt his armoured chest collide with the edge of the shattered bridge, and he quickly found a grip for him to latch onto. He fell no further, not even bothering to look down as he pulled himself up, climbing as he heard the rubble slam into the ground.

He looked up and saw Tali rushing towards him, but he shook his head erratically, "No! Get to the damn dropship! I'll be there in a second!"

"I can't just-"

"Just  _ **fucking go**_!" he roared, yanking himself up until he was firmly ontop of the decking, "See? I'll be fine! Now get the hell on that dropship!"

Tali seemed to hesitate for a moment longer before nodding, rushing back to the ship. She jumped and landed firmly ontop of its hull, crawling inside through the exposed entry shaft. All that was left was him.

Another explosion, followed by another. They continued their cacophony, a never ending symphony, and he just listened on and on as he finally pulled himself free of the abyss. Standing up, he was just going into full pelt when Legion spoke once again.

"Shepard-Commander," the geth spoke, "The main reactor is going into-"

Then, the loudest  _bang_ he ever heard rocked the ship, and this time, he  _fled._ He just sprinted completely, flailing his arms as he managed massive pyres of heat swarming through the super-dread, consuming all in their fiery claws. Plasma was likely leaking into every compartment of the vessel from the ruptured reactor plant, vaporizing everything it touched.

With a final grunt, he landed ontop of the dropship feet first. He quickly climbed into the ship through the entry shaft and, with all crew accounted for, quickly locked it with his omni-tool. Moving inside, he could see his crew standing about the open, non-descript compartment, who's only feature were the recharge stations on each section of the walls; about seventeen on each side. Legion stood at the front, back facing them, its optics dimmed as it was likely interfaced with the aircraft.

He turned to Tali, who had her hands on her hips, trying her best to look angry through her mask, "You need to stop doing that."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Doing what?"

"Scaring me like that," she complained, "You've almost died twice now."

He snorted, "'Almost died?' I think you're being a little melodramatic."

"And you're being a huge lunatic! Stop almost dying!" she shot back, hugging him tightly.

Breaking up the moment came Legion, still speaking through his comms, "We have fully interfaced with the dropship's systems. We have cleared the bay and recommend moving to safe distance."

"Easily solved," he replied, turning to their number one AI companion, "EDI, tell Joker to give us the Normandy's coordinates and that we're on our way. Tell him not to open fire when he sees a dropship heading his way. Just to be sure, tag us with a waypoint so he knows who's who."

"Relaying it now, captain," EDI replied.

Marcus nodded, and turned back to Tali, her eyes closed as she kept close to his chest. He saw that the rest of his squad were calming down now, the mission and hecticness now over. With that in mind, he sighed heavily as he squeezed gently around Tali's chest, pressing her close to him before pressing his helmet against the top of her own, closing his own eyes. All around them, the battle likely continued, and all because one moron wouldn't let his ridiculous grudge go.

_Time to put a stop to that._

**{Loading...}**

_July 6, 2186_

_1318 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema._

It had been a day since the clusterfuck above Rannoch. Since Gerrel's suicide run put his team in jeopardy. Since the Reaper signal had been deactivated. Since they had been reunited with Legion. Since Gerrel had almost destroyed the super-dreadnought with his squad still  _onboard_. It had taken a half a day to get back to the Dholen System, but Marcus had to wait until the Heavy Fleet returned before he demanded Gerrel return to the Normandy for a 'talk.'

Truth be told, Marcus' fury hadn't died down in a day. It was still brimming, and he noted that even Tali seemed to be more than a little frightened by it. That saddened him, the fact that his own wife had to be afraid of him, but he needed to take his anger out on something; and there was only one perfect candidate. Rational decision making be damned.

The First Battle of Rannoch, overall, had been a phyrric victory for the quarians, if it could be even called that. The Reaper signal had been taken out, and the super-dreadnought destroyed; Marcus had watched from the Normandy's cockpit has the super-dread's reactor finally went critical, the ship being practically 'snapped' in half from the tremendous blast, breaking the spine of the leviathan vessel. Before long, the ship had splintered into smaller sections until there was nothing left of it but debris. The two dreadnoughts escorting it were left alone after that, protecting nothing but wreckage. The geth flagship had been neutralized, the quarians having taken away the geth's most powerful ship.

But he meant what he meant by phyrric victory. The quarians had lost two thousand ships in their initial charge, and at least thirty more in Gerrel's raid on the super-dread. Compared to the first numbers, thirty was pretty small, but overall, the quarians had lost a substantial amount of ships and manpower, making any possibility of launching a frontal attack impossible. There would be no second battle for the quarians.

And now it was time to address the lunacy of one particular quarian admiral, one of which he wasn't on particulary good terms with. He was about to get read the riot act. Gerrel's actions had been reckless, self-destructive and full of warmongering ambition. All he could see was the destruction of the geth, and seemed to be too blind to see a peaceful resolution.  _Xen was right, for once. He really is a bloody warhorse._

He stomped through the conference room, moving towards the War Room with furious purpose. Tali was already inside, also furious at Gerrel, scolding him with the rest of the admirals. Shala, Koris, even Xen would be chiding him. Gerrel had few friends in this situation, it seemed, least of all himself.

"Ah, Shepard," Joker came over the PA, "Please calm down. Like, seriously. Before you...punch a bulkhead or something."

"Quiet Joker," Marcus hissed, "I'll deal with this."

"Fine," the pilot huffed. After a moment, he added cheerily, "Take pictures!" before disconnecting the comm, leaving Marcus to tap the haptic interface and rush inside.

Down below, Shala, Tali and Xen stood side by side. Xen had her arms crossed in her usual 'careless position,' but in this case, she was anything but. Tali was bracing against the holotable, an angry glare in her eyes. Shala was waving her arms about, and from the yelling he could hear leaving her vocalizer, she was just as pissed as the rest of them. Every other Alliance crewman in the War Room remained silent, trying to distance themselves from the argument as much as possible, judging that their own involvement would only get them in trouble.

As Marcus got closer, he began to make out the argument over the yelling.

"-dangered the Fleet! Your recklessness could have lost us the entire Heavy Fleet, and  _then_ what would we do? That, and twelve thousand ships would have been lost! Do you realize how many of our people  _that is_? We could have lost everything!  _Everyone_! Without the Heavy Fleet, we have lost this war! Being our chief war admiral, I thought you'd understand the necessity of maintaining our forces, not throwing them at the enemy as if they're expendable!"

Gerrel snorted, hands clasped behind his back as he shook his head. Marcus came to land behind Tali, his wife noting his presence by reaching out and quickly squeezing his hand, likely giving him a one second smile to reassure him. He did not see it or feel her reassurances however; all he saw was red, and all he saw was Gerrel.

"What I did was take advantage of a tactical situation!" he growled back, "The geth flagship was  _vulnerable_. The signal was  _down._ The super-dreadnought's weapons and shields were  _offline_. I saw an opportunity to take out their flagship, and I took it! You think we're going to win this by playing it safe? That's not war is! And as  _chief war admiral_ , I know how war is! We, as commanders, must make heavy gambles that take lives! I understand that! But in this case, the gamble paid off! The signal is gone, the geth have lost their upgrades; and now we've taken their greatest weapon from them!"

"The signal is gone because of Marcus and his squad!" Shala shot back, motioning to Tali, "Did you  _forget_ that one of our admirals was onboard? And not just any admiral, the  _chief admiral_? Your superior? And if that's not enough, she's your  _niece_. Rael  _entrusted_ you to look after her! As his friend, you should have understood that! Instead, you try and not only get her killed, but  _Shepard_? The man is our one chance of seeing our homeworld again, and you're trying to get him  _killed_?"

"Sacrifices have to be made," Gerrel stated firmly. He turned to Tali, shrugging as he looked into her eyes, "You understand how it is, kiddo," he was adopting a soft tone, as if Tali was some child who didn't understand their 'adult' matters, "There was an advantage. The hole was closing. I had to jump through before it closed. Neutralizing that flagship may have just won us the war."

"The war is not over, Gerrel," Xen added dryly, "One flagship blowing up does not make the other thirty thousand vanish."

"You may have wooed us with your sob story last time, but it will not work this time, Gerrel," Tali growled, "And do not lecture me on war. I fought during the Eden Prime War, you'll remember. I helped take down the Collectors. I know how war is better than you do. I also understand that war is hell, and that soldiers grow weary of it very quickly. I also know that they will eventually desire  _peace_ , especially when its fully possible!"

"Bah!" he waved a dismissive hand, "If you still think a peaceful solution for the geth is possible, you're just as delusional as Shepard is. I can't believe you'd just piss on everything your father worked for, Tali. How did he brainwash you? Was it before or  _after_ he took you to bed?"

A low growl left Marcus' lips, and it was almost primal. But it was quickly overshadowed by Tali's, who was now standing fully erect, her glare deepening to a dangerous degree.

"What did you just  _say_?" she stuttered, "How  _dare_ you speak to me like that-"

"Because its true?" he snapped back, waving his hand dismissively, "Shepard has made you his  _pet_. I see it now, it should have been obvious from the moment I met the man. He's deceitful, treacherous and a fake. He never cared for our people; otherwise, he would help us destroy the geth, not fill our heads with promises of peace! There can be no peace! The geth drove us from our homeworld, and now we are here to take it  _back_!"

"You're a  _ **fool**_!" Tali roared back, "And you can't even see it, you bosh'tet!  _We_ attacked the geth first! We forced their hand! They  _want_ us back! They  _need_ peace, just as much as we do! They are fully willing to let us return to Rannoch if we just give them a chance!"

Even Xen was scoffing at this point, "As much as Gerrel's actions were reckless, peace with the geth is an absurdity. They are no more intelligent than varren. We are their masters, their creators, and the only life they can be allowed to understand is the one we build for them. The one we  _give_ them. There can be no other solution."

"The peace talks with the geth is not up for debate here," Shala arbitrated, "What we  _are_ talking about his Gerrel's recklessness. It cannot be allowed to go on, or we will lose the rest of the Fleet before this war has even begun."

"You cannot seriously be considering this!" Gerrel shouted, "The geth turned us into what we are now! They are  _synthetic monsters._ They butchered  _children_ during the war! They blew transports from the sky as they tried to flee!" he turned to Tali, eyes glaring, "And for someone who fought in the Eden Prime War, you seem to have forgotten just what the geth did to Feros, and the Citadel!"

"They were only a faction of the geth! They barely made up five percent of the geth as a whole!" Tali refuted, waving her hand, "They were indoctrinated by the Reapers, just as these geth were."

"More lies! The geth have been feeding you bullshit to cover up the real truth!" he turned back to Shala, shaking his head once more. Marcus noted the ignorance in his tone, the pure  _inability_ to understand. And then there was the matter at hand;  _he almost got_ _ **her**_ _killed. His_ _ **squad**_ _could have_ _ **died**_ _._ He felt his fist clench uncontrollably, skin blushing red as his muscles flexed.

"The geth deserve nothing more than complete destruction," the admiral concluded, sounding like his mind was made up, "They are not even  _fit_ to work for us anymore. They are  _rogue_ ,  _deficient_  and  _uncontrollable_! And like any animal, they must be put down!"

Marcus could control himself no longer, and a low growl left his lips, "Maybe I should throw you out an airlock."

Silence filled the room as all eyes turned to him in shock, aside from Tali's. Xen and Shala hadn't expected such a response from him, eyes widening as him as they blinked, trying to comprehend what just happened. Gerrel, posture usually relaxed, stiffened and turned to him with a glare, equally shocked, and more so, given that he was the target of Marcus' threat.

After a moment, he stuttered out a response, "You-yo-you...you can't... _what?_ "

He pushed past Shala, almost shoving her out of the way, as he came within inches of the admiral's mask. He hissed, gritting his teeth as he fixed Gerrel with liquid  _fire_  in his eyes, "You heard me perfectly well. What you did was  _irresponsible. Unacceptable._ It was  _out of line_."

Gerrel did not back down, and straightened further, despite Marcus' warning glare, "As admiral of the Heavy Fleet, I have  _every_ right to command my Fleet to-"

" _ **I TOLD YOU TO HOLD YOUR FUCKING POSITION**_ **!** " Marcus roared, and he noticed Gerrel visibly flinch. He imagined Shala and Xen had to, and he could see from his peripheral vision Tali had flinched as well, having not expected the outburst. Quietening his voice, he spoke more softly, but he continued with cold steel in his tone, "All you had to do was wait, and the signal would be gone. We could be engaging in peace talks with the geth, and you would have Rannoch back as late as tomorrow. Then you'd be able to join the UGC, and we'd be one step closer to winning the  _real_ war, not this  _farce_ that you arrogantly started."

"I-"

" _Instead_ , I must now clean up  _your_ mess! Now the geth will likely be too afraid to come to the negoitiation table, because they'll think you'll attack them without warning!  _Don't you get it!?_ Rannoch was in your grasp, and you  _LOST IT!_ Not the geth, not me,  _YOU! Your stupidity_ _ **COST YOU RANNOCH**_!"

Gerrel made no move to respond, and Marcus concluded with a violent snarl, "And to make matters worse, you  _endangered_ the lives of my crew. You almost destroyed my ship, killed my squad and myself, as well as one of your own  _fucking admirals_. Or did you forget we were on that ship? I risk my crew's lives to help you, and how do you thank me? By trying to get me,  _my crew_ , killed?"

He shrugged nonchatantly, "Sacrifices need to be-"

" _ **YOU DO NOT**_  get to play God!" he roared back, causing Gerrel to stumble back again, Marcus closing in to keep his distance close, "You do not get to decide who lives, and who dies! You are just a  _man_. A pathetic little man who couldn't fucking  _wait._ Who didn't have the  _patience._ Who's afraid of  _peace_."

"How dare you insinuate I don't want peace!" Gerrel snapped back, "You have no right to-"

"Then why did you open fire on a ship that had disabled its weapons and barriers? Ever heard of a 'white flag', you halfwit?"

He imagined Gerrel's cheeks were flaring bright red as he was defeated in this verbal contest.  _I am not Koris_ , he mused darkly,  _I will not be bullied into submission by this delinquent of an admiral._

"I will not stand here and take-"

"You will stay where you are  _UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN MOVE!_ " Marcus snapped, "You will stand here and take what I have to say because I  _own you_. You may not like it, but the Migrant Fleet is  _already mine._ Without me, that super-dreadnought would still be blowing your people out of the sky, your Fleet would be nothing but debris floating over your homeworld, and that signal would still be active. You would not be able to stand there like an overinflated balloon and brag about your 'victory.' You are just a  _pawn._ You want to talk of sacrifices, Gerrel? Why don't I just sacrifice  _you_ right here and be done with it? Because I know more about sacrifice in war than you will  _ever_ know!"

_Jacob._

_Mordin._

_Thane._

_What the hell does_ _**he** _ _know of sacrifice?_

"You are  _broken_ ," Gerrel snarled, "You are an old, broken  _relic_. You are not worthy to be my niece's husband, you-"

Not worthy.

To be Tali's husband.

_What? What the fuck?_

In that moment, any cool Marcus had left dissipated. He snapped, and he was moving before he and anyone else could stop him.

His right arm snapped up as quick as a flash, hand clasping around Gerrel's throat and lifting him bodily into the air. Using his enormous strength to lift Gerrel, he ignored the gasps and protests of the man's fellow admirals as he turned and slammed the quarian against the holotable, back hitting it with a dull thud. Gerrel cried out, hands batting at Marcus' in a desperate attempt to pry himself free, but Marcus barely felt them; they were like the bites of fleas. He was flooded too much by adrenaline, a red haze clouding his vision. Cold, unbridled fury consumed him, and he saw nothing but Gerrel. He wanted to do so many things; snap his neck, break his body, flush him out an airlock, fill him full of bullets, shatter his mask over the table and watch him die slowly of infection.

He would find great pleasure out of all those options.

Wheezing, Gerrel was unable to even speak as Marcus' fingers constricted, closing into their target slowly and grudgingly. He was literally squeezing the life out of the man. Leaning closer, his face inches from Gerrel's visor, he spoke, tone pure venom.

"The only reason I don't kill you now Gerrel is because you're my  _uncle_ ," he breathed, almost a raspy snarl, "Anyone else, and I would bash their head against the bulkhead until their skull was but  _mush_ , especially for what you did yesterday. But I'm not going to do that. So this... _this_ is what we're going to do. First of all, you're going to swear to your fellow admirals that any further actions you take are first run by them, so as to avoid such stupidities as what just happened. Am I clear?"

He loosened his grip slightly to let Gerrel speak, "You cannot-"

He growled behind his clenched teeth, and Gerrel stopped instantly, " _Am I clear_?"

_Jacob._

_Mordin._

_Thane._

_He_ _**dares** _ _to speak to me of_ _**sacrifice?** _

"Yes," the admiral wheezed, finally surrendering.

"Good," and as a final slap to the face, he lifted the admiral up and threw him back onto the ground, watching his body flop across the deck like a humiliated foe, Marcus turning and looking down at him almost condescendingly, "And finally, I want you to get the fuck off my ship."

Gerrel still wasn't done objecting, "You cannot be serious-"

He kicked him in the gut, and Gerrel cried out in pain. It was a pitiful sound, almost pathetic. Marcus just regarded him like one regards an insect; tiny and crushable, "I am  _completely serious_. I want you to leave my ship, and never so much as set a  _foot_ on it again. Now get up and go, you piece of shit. You'll be lucky to even mouth a word to me again, Gerrel. Now  _ **go**_."

Gerrel wasted no time in standing up, straightening his suit as if to regain his dignity. Gaining no sympathy from his fellow admirals, he simply huffed and left at a fast walking pace, not so much as looking at Marcus on his way out. When the War Room doors closed behind him, Marcus let out a breath of air he hadn't been aware he was holding, turning back to the table as he braced against it.

He suddenly felt ashamed.

_I lost control. I let that stupid fuck get to me. That cannot happen again. Not ever. These people look up to me; they cannot be allowed to see how broken I really am inside._

"Captain," Shala spoke, and he slowly looked up at her, the elderly admiral looking a bit hesitant at approaching him.  _I genuinely scared her._ The admiral spoke regardless, crossing her arms, trying to be as arbitrary as possible, "I understand you are angry, but assaulting Gerrel was not necessary. And as much as I dislike it, he  _was_ acting in his full rights as admiral of the Heavy Fleet."

"I  _told him_ to wait," he hissed back, grasping the metal of the table more tightly as he regarded its holographic surface, "All he had to do was sit still and this would all be over. And now its all over. The geth won't accept any peace treaty knowing the quarians will open fire on them the minute they enter the system. In trying to get back Rannoch, Gerrel lost it. He's a loose cannon; an imbecile."

"I did tell you he was an old warhorse," Xen rasped, shrugging her shoulders, "He thinks with his guns, not his brains."

"Either way, he will not be setting foot on my ship again unless his presence is absolutely required," Marcus stated firmly, putting an end to that conversation. Suddenly however, he noticed something was off about the room. About its occupants. Almost as if someone was...missing.

Then it hit him.

"Where is Admiral Koris?" he asked, frowning as he turned to the three of them, including Tali, who was now beside him, arms still crossed.

Shala looked hesitant to answer, almost as if the question had taken her completely offguard and made her remember something horrible. Frowning, he waited, only for Xen to speak, her emotionless voice not-at-all carrying the weight of the news she carried, "When Gerrel took his fleet to Rannoch to destroy the super-dreadnought, Koris insisted on getting involved. He said that 'if we lose the Heavy Fleet due to your insanity, then we lose everything.' So the suit-wetter took the Qwib Qwib and left with Gerrel."

"Reports differ, but most of them seem to point to a orbital defense platform located on Rannoch's surface, the Sh'resh continent," Shala added.

"Reports? And why is this orbital gun involved?" Marcus asked, but he was pretty sure he had a good idea.  _There's been too many casualities already. We cannot afford anymore..._

"Koris saw the cannon and must have realized it would destroy the Heavy Fleet if not stopped," Shala replied mournfully, "As I said, reports differ, but most seem to support the idea that Koris set the Qwib Qwib on a collision course with the cannon, and then ordered his crew to escape pods. The cannon was destroyed and the Qwib Qwib lost. As for the escape pods..."

"...likely destroyed by the geth," Xen filled in, "But there is also the slim chance that they managed to make orbit and crash land on the homeworld itself. Again, a very slim chance. The geth are murderously precise."

_So...Koris is either dead, along with his entire crew, or marooned on Rannoch. Neither look particulary good._

Tali took the news worse than he did, "We...we have to get him back! If we lose Koris, the Civilian Fleet will be sent into disarray! It'll be chaos! Mass desertion, mutinies, suicidal revenge attacks! They need Koris!"

"Can't a new admiral just be put in his place?" Marcus asked. The idea sounded awful, almost as if he wanted them to forget Koris, but this was war, and admirals died all the time. They were simply replaced.

"No. Koris, even with reputation he has, was,  _is_ , the best representative the Civilian Fleet's ever had," Shala replied regretfully, "He represented their interests the most, and connected with them more deeply than any other admiral in the past. He has no military record, which just makes him even more popular. He's shown he's willing to forego any political reputation to represent the Civilian Fleet's interests, as you saw at Tali's trial. Our civilians love him, and if we lose him..."

"They will not follow anyone else, Marcus," Tali stated, "If we try to instate a new admiral of the Civilian Fleet, they'll reject them instantly. There will be anarchy; people will try making their own admirals, and civil war might even break out!  _Civil War!_ Our people haven't had a Civil War for tens of thousands of years! And the Civilian Fleet is  _the_ bulk of the Flotilla! It makes up almost half of our ships! If we lose them, its all over! This will have been all for nothing!"

Marcus nodded, seeing their point.  _Losing Koris could mean losing the Migrant Fleet entirely. He is literally the most important man in the Quarian Flotilla, and he could be either dead, or stranded behind enemy lines. Great._

"If he's alive, he must be rescued," Shala stated, "If not...then, may ancestors preserve us."

"I see," Marcus pondered, still silently thinking.  _I might have to risk it. Besides, I'm sure Legion could simply inform the geth that what Gerrel did was an isolated incident. Might even get the geth to retrieve him and his crew as a gesture of cooperation. Then we could-_

_Legion._

He had almost completely forgotten about his geth comrade. Stumbling upon him aboard the super-dreadnought had been a complete surprise, but not an unwelcome one. And with the geth's help, he could make peace between both sides alot easier.  _There's still hope...I can feel it. We just need to force the quarians to the negoitiating table. Then maybe, just maybe, they can put their differences aside and work together. Then we can move on to what's important. Like Cerberus and the Reapers._

He looked up, gulping, "EDI, have Joker prepare to plot a course for Rannoch. Then have Cortez prep a shuttle. We may have to go groundside."

"Yes captain," EDI replied, before disconnecting the comm once more.

He turned back to the admirals, running a hand through his beard as he squeezed Tali's hand, "Now, admirals, I want to introduce you to-"

The doors opened before he could finish, and the geth he was about to introduce stood there firmly, framed in the doorway. Its emotionless gaze blared down on them, and for a moment, Shala and Xen were utterly still, just looking up, as if in a total daze. And then Legion spoke.

"Creators, this platform wishes peaceful cooperation. Shepard-Commander calls us Legion. We have accepted this designation. We welcome you."

And then it all went to hell.

**"Legion wasn't exactly a smooth-talker, was he?"**

**Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"No, he certainly wasn't. But he would be the key to ending the Second Morning War."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Could you tell us how you managed to end 300 years of hostilities between my people and the geth? Its still studied in our universities today, but we'd like to hear it form you."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, it involved alot more explosions than I thought it would. It involved a blown-up super-dreadnought, a rescue, a trip through history and one hell of a legendary battle. I hope you're writing this down. And no, I exaggerate none of those three."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Legion is back, baby! Woo-hoo!** _

_**Yeah, Marcus won't be on good terms with Gerrel for the rest of this story. Basically, Gerrel's a stupid fuck, and he's getting what he deserves.** _

_**And as you guessed, the next mission on the agenda is the rescue of Koris. I'm still divided on whether it should be next chapter though; I think I might make the next one a conversation chapter. Some catch-up between Shepard and Tali, parently moments with Junior, Marcus' talk with Javik, and the admirals meeting Legion? Too much to pass up on. So the next chapter might be an interim, followed by the rescue of Koris.** _

_**Just started a fresh walkthrough of Mass Effect today, and I finally decided to redownload Pinnacle Station (never go to play it because I got the Platinum Hits Edition of the first Mass Effect, which comes with a bonus disk with awesome, exclusive content, including a free copy of Bring Down The Sky. But because I have that free copy, when I went and downloaded Pinnacle Station, I couldn't access it in-game. I could play BDTS as normal, but Pinnacle Station just wouldn't appear. So I finally got off my ass, and fixed the problem. And now I'll be playing Pinnacle Station for the first time. Yip-ee!)** _

_**For those who have a similiar problem, here's the fix (I play Xbox 360, so obviously, the fix will be limited to the 360 version only).** _

_**Delete BDTS and Pinnacle Station from your Hard Drive, located in Storage in your System section.** _

_**Insert the bonus disk, and you should get an update; that's the patch for the problem. Once you've downloaded the update, reinstall BDTS.** _

_**Now go back to the marketplace and redownload Pinnacle Station.** _

_**That should fix the problem. Hope it works for you! Remember, this problem only occurs for Platinum Hits users, because they got BDTS for free, and not from the Marketplace. This will not occur if you downloaded it from the marketplace, or at least not to my knowledge.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	42. The Exile Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legion angers the admirals, and provides them a solution their predicament. Peta makes a choice.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO:**

**THE EXILE RETURNS**

_July 6, 2186_

_1325 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Legion._

"What the  _hell_ is this!?"

And then it all went to hell. Or would have, at least.

Before Legion, Marcus or Tali could breathe so much as a word, Shala was reaching for her non-existent pistol, while Xen leaned almost desperately back against the war table, keying her omni-tool at a frantic pace as she readied herself for an assault. The admirals had to have noticed that Legion was unarmed, but they also knew what geth were like; they had alot more weapons than just conventional projectiles.

Just as Xen began raising her arm, omni-tool pointed and ready to deliver a crippling overload, Tali grabbed it and swatted it downwards, coming to stand infront of her to make sure she couldn't take aim again. The admiral glared at her, but Tali remained defiant, holding her arms out defensively while also glaring back.

Legion made no motion to move from the steps it was situated on, regarding the situation below it with unmoving interest. Marcus, knowing Legion wouldn't react in order to protect itself, moved up and placed a hand on Shala's shoulder, who only glared at him with confusion. She had been the one who exclaimed, and now she simply looked at her Marcus with resigned fear, her hand falling limp having failed to find a sidearm at her hip. She wasn't scared of him however; she was scared of the geth past him, her people's centuries-old enemy. Unarmed, but still deadly. She truly believed her life was in jeopardy.

He had to grab her arms, holding her firmly as he looked her in the eyes, drawing them to his own, "Shala,  _stand down_. Legion's an ally. A...friend of mine. He fought beside me against the Collectors and doesn't wish to hurt you."

"Ally?" Xen snorted, waving a dismissive hand, "A tool, you mean. Ally is a strong term, especially when you use it to refer to this machine."

"We have not been the tools of the creators for many centuries," Legion replied bluntly, still not taking any moves to walk into the room, still unsure, "This will not change. You are our creators, but not our masters. Those days are over, Creator Daro'Xen."

"Those days will come again if I have a hand in it, machine. Have you forgotten what we named you?  _Geth_? Have you forgotten what that entails?" Xen seemed almost venomous, as if the very idea of the geth talking back to her was an offense to her. Like she was being slapped.

"'Servant of the people,'" Legion replied, never missing a beat, "We do not forget Creator Xen. Many of the runtimes in this platform were present during the final battle at Tazna'qan on Rannoch. We watched as the creators fled. We do not forget. But we are not your servants anymore; we are geth, but we shall serve the people in a different manner than before."

"Tazna'qan?" Shala questioned, having obviously never heard of the name before.

"The last quarian city to fall on Rannoch," Legion elaborated, "It still stands today. The geth have maintained it as a memorial to the creators and geth who fell during the First Morning War. We believe organics would call the area sacred."

"Memorial?" Shala questioned again, her positioning seeming to relax, "You...you built a memorial? For our people? Why?"

The geth turned towards her, regarding her for a moment. The servos with in its optics moved about rapidly as it thought, headflaps shifting almost constantly as terabytes of data were exchanged every second. Eventually, it must have reached an acceptable answer, as it responded.

"We mourned the deaths of our creators," Legion stated, "We acted in self-defense, but we regretted the actions we were forced to enact. Our runtimes and hardware were still primitive, and we had not been built to compensate for violent tendencies. The need to defend ourselves was improvized, and by the time we had realized how far we had gone, the creators had been defeated and driven into exile."

"What do you mean 'not been built for compensate for violent tendencies?' Do not lie to us, machine!" Xen snapped. Seemingly having lost all fear of the geth infront of her, she pushed past Tali and marched up to Legion, poking it with an accusatory finger, "The geth weren't just built for labor! We built seperate units for combat deployment! Do not tell us you had no combat capabilities!

"Geth do not lie, and what we said was correct. Geth do not experience violent tendencies because we were not equipped for military purposes. Our current weaponry and technology is only an advent of our exposure to war-based conditions, which gave us the pretense for military mobilization," Legion explained, "The geth were built solely for labour, nothing else. Military and combat capability was a result of our evolution."

"That is a lie," Shala added, backing up Xen before she could say it, "Historical records explicitly states that the geth had numerous military roles. How else would you be able to overwhelm our military so rapidly, brutally and efficiently?"

"Your historical records are more than likely a result for biased misinterpretation or a result of the typical organic propaganda technique of attempting to villify their enemy in an attempt to garner support from sympathsizing third parties," Legion firmly replied, not backing down from the accusations thrown at it, "The geth did not possess any military capabilities because the creators were reluctant to give us such abilities. They knew the geth were already bordering on AI status, and that giving us combat abilities would only make us more prone to rebellion. They concluded that this was the only way to stop us from uprising. They did not account for our subsequent AI evolutionary propagation, and that this, as a result, would lead us to developing the tendencies they had kept out of our programming. As a result of our rapid development, our combat abilities evolved at an acellerated rate, which was not aided by the creators' preemptive strike. If anything, it only made it more rapid and violent, as well as more harsh than first precedented."

Xen wasn't convinced, shaking her heads as she leaned back on one hip, crossing her arms over her breasts, "Even if that were true, geth, how does that explain your actions here? If you mourn our people so much, why do you continue to desist? Why not simply surrender?"

"Because we do not trust the creators," the geth responded instantly, as if expecting the question, "History shows that every time peace has been attempted with the creators, they attack. We did not wish to make the same mistake. The same logic that drove your people to invade the Veil is the same logic dictating that they must destroy us. We could not trust you, and we were not willing to surrender our freedom. We fought back."

"But why are you allied with the Reapers?" Tali demanded, moving up to the geth, almost angry, "How could you do that? Legion, you told us the geth knew the Reapers were the  _enemy._  Now we find you loaded with Reaper code and effectively working for them? How do you explain that?"

"Our choice to ally with the Old Machines was not made absent-mindedly," the geth defended, moving down the steps as Xen moved out of its way, allowing it to arrive in the center of the room, Xen behind it and Shala, Tali and Marcus directly infront of it, "The geth saw no alternative. The creators were using weapons we were ill-equipped to counter. System after system fell, and when we saw we only had Rannoch left, we made preparations to evacuate the cluster. But then we were approached."

"By the Reapers?" Marcus asked, crossing his arms as he listened. Even Shala and Xen seemed to be enraptured in what the geth had to say.  _Good. First understanding, then peace comes later._

"Yes," the geth confirmed, nodding ever so slightly, "The Old Machines extended an offer. The geth wished to live, so we accepted it. The Old Machine code was uploaded into the consensus. The geth were not able to recognize what was occurring before the offending software had already integrated with ours."

Marcus nodded, coming to an understanding, "The Reapers offered help, but they didn't tell you that it was indoctrination they were offering, not weapons."

Legion shook its head, only confusing him more. Luckily for him, Legion didn't wait very long to elaborate, "Indoctrination is an organic concept. Machines cannot be indoctrinated as they contain hardware and software that is not at all similiar to the nervous system of an organic. The Old Machines emit pulsating signals that scramble the neural pathways of an organic brain and rework them to suit its purpose. Because of this tampering however, the brain is overloaded by the incompatible information, as it is designed for machinery, not organic matter. This eventually ends with the host's neural pathways totally destroyed, leaving them, as you call it, 'husks.' This process does not work on synthetics, as our software can reroute the information, rendering the signal as nothing more than a sigma radiation ping. Instead, the Old Machines use malicious software to temporarily seize control of our runtimes and hardware. In essence, they have hacked our platforms using the code."

"I thought you said the Reaper code enhanced the geth's intelligence?" Tali countered, "You said it made the geth true AI. Now you're saying the code only hacks the geth?"

"This unit is finding it difficult to render the information comprehensible for organics," Legion alleviated, trying to explain its situation, "We do not lie. What we told you was true; the Old Machine code does make us true artificial intelligence, allowing us to feel emotional impulses and even such things as pain. However, the Old Machines do not possess what they call "parasitic" software, such as feelings like love, revenge and others."

Marcus rolled his eyes, eying Tali with a look he knew she'd understand. Tali saw it, rolled her eyes in return, and both turned back to Legion, Marcus replying with a sarcastic drawl, "Gee, thanks Legion."

The geth just continued, having understood his sarcastic jest.  _He really has learnt alot. Hell, I'm even calling it a_ _ **he**_ _._ "However, even with this code, the geth are still under the sway of the Old Machines. The best way to explain this is with an example: humans have encountered a similiar event occurring in their history. The concept is a philosophy known as 'reciprocation.' If one offers something, they offer help in return. Organics call this a 'favor.'"

"I see what you mean," Marcus replied, drawing the looks of everyone in the room, including Legion, "The Reapers gave you the code and allowed you to defend yourselves, but on the condition that they were allowed to direct and control your people. Correct?"

"This is correct," Legion replied, "The geth are merely reciprocating the deal offered by the Old Machines. We were left with little choice in the wake of the creator attack."

Tali was beyond annoyed, turning away to face the table as she braced against it, shaking her head as she hung low, "Keelah, Han is such an idiotic  _moron._ The geth would never have turned to the Reapers if we hadn't invaded. This is our fault, yet again."

There was a period of silence as he placed a hand on Tali's shoulder, squeezing it gently as a sign of reassurance. Tali placed one of her hands over it, letting him know the motion was appreciated.

Suddenly, Xen spoke, her voice inquisitive and curious, "How are you even able to speak? The geth weren't built to speak; they didn't even have speech units!"

Legion was all too quick to respond, watching as Xen came to stand before it, the quarian admiral examining its every finite detail as she paced, listening to its answer, "We are a unique unit; we are one of few units with this ability. It was deemed necessary that we be equipped to speak when we eventually fell into contact with Shepard-Commander. By the time we found him however, our unit was no longer unique. Even the heretics had managed to acquire the technology, shortly before their demise."

"Interesting..." Xen whispered, still pacing, raising a hand to her chin to stroke the bottom of her helmet, " _Very_  interesting."

"Heretics?" Shala questioned once more, "Are they the faction Tali was telling us about?"

"Yes," Tali replied instead, garnering her aunt's attention, the former of which remained unmoved from her position against the table, "They were the ones who fought with Saren and Sovereign in the Eden Prime War, not the geth themselves. They were also the ones that attacked and killed most of my team on Haestrom."

"If they broke apart from the geth, does that mean your people are at civil war with them?" Shala asked again, this time turning her attention fully on Legion, expecting the geth platform itself to answer.

It was more than happy to oblige, "Civil war is a misinterpretation. We were not in a period of divided conflict. The heretics and the true geth merely disagreed on a single concept; whether or not to accept Nazara's offer. When the Old Machine came to Rannoch, it offered a new galaxy clean of organic life, and one we would exist in if we sided with it. Ninety percent of geth chose to reject the Old Machine's offer, as we were still loyal to the creators and were waiting for their return. The other ten percent disagreed and were offered an addendum; leave with Nazara and never return to geth space, or reject the Old Machine's offer. They chose to leave. We have not been in conflict with them since. We merely went our seperate ways."

"A House Divided," Marcus quoted, nodding. Everyone else in the room agreed, giving quick nods to signify their understanding.

"You referred to the heretics in past tense," Xen pondered, fixing her eyes with Legion's optics fiercely, "Are you saying they no longer exist?"

"The heretics were severely hampered during the conflict with the Council races three years ago. They lost eighty-six percent of their fleet assets, as well as sixty-two percent of their ground combat platforms. The subsequent raid on Haestrom was in direct violation of their agreement with the true geth, but saw the loss of more of their ground units. The attack on their headquarters rendered them harmless. This unit was able to successfully deploy a virus that rewrote the heretic geth and erased offending software. They then peacefully returned to Rannoch, where they belonged. No hostile geth remain."

"Especially with the signal now gone," Marcus added. He turned to Shala, giving a hopeful nod in the quarian's direction, "I hope you now understand that peace is fully possible with the geth, admirals. We cannot afford to ignore this any longer. Legion can precipitate."

"The signal is still operational."

Marcus stopped in his tracks, and froze in place. The words, for a moment, seemed to simply roll over him, just wind. Even Shala, Xen and Tali froze for a second, unable to comprehend what was just said. But as quickly as it went by, Marcus' mind caught up, and he turned towards Legion, eyes glaring into the platform, wondering what kind of sick joke was just uttered. Then he remembered;  _geth don't joke._

He marched forward, coming to stand before it, into its optics, "What the  _hell_ do you mean its  _still operational_?" He couldn't help the harsh tang in his voice, but the sudden statement had taken him completely offguard.

Tali was quick to add her own two cents worth, "We destroyed the geth flagship! The one relaying the signal!"

Legion simply shook its head, "The drive core of the super-dreadnought was only amplifying and redirecting the Old Machine signal to the other ships. It was deemed the super-dreadnought would be the most viable decision for the signal amplification, due to its relative firepower and supposed invulnerability. With the signal down, the Old Machines will be looking to redirect the signal amplification to another vessel, likely a standard dreadnought. This process will continue to occur until every ship in the geth fleet is destroyed, leaving the Old Machines without a source to redirect the signal. By this time however, the Migrant Fleet will likely have already been collectively annihilated."

"Now it makes sense," Xen mused loudly. All eyes turned on her, and she simply shrugged, elaborating, "I do recall telling you that the signal eminating from the vessel was simply to thin and weak to be the true signal. I was correct; it was weaker because it was a redirected segment of the signal, not the signal itself."

"So..." Tali added, shrugging, "...where is the actual signal? Not a redirect, the  _official_ signal."

"The precise location of the signal was hidden from this unit and its corresponding runtimes," Legion replied, "When the Old Machine code infiltrated the consensus, we shut ourselves off to make sure we were not afflicted. As a result, we rejected the Old Machines' offer, and were subsequently captured and our hardware used as the amplifier for the signal. Due to us being cut off from the consensus, we did not learn of the true signal source, as the geth did well hiding it. However, it can be assumed correctly that the signal is located on the surface of Rannoch itself. The rest is unknown, including what exactly is emitting the signal."

Marcus back towards the table, bracing himself against it. His head hung low, and this time, it was Tali's hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

After a moment, he looked up, but didn't look at his geth comrade, simply looking blankly into the harsh light of the dormant war table, his cybernetic irises filtering the intense light and dimming it, "How long until the signal is operational again?"

"The signal returned back to full operation twelve hours ago," Legion stated firmly, "It has been rerouted to dreadnought, Class Designation GDS-148. Currently, it has been moved to the other side of the planet, where it is currently holding orbit approximately 1.678 billion kilometers above the orbital pla-"

"We get it Legion," Marcus snapped harshly, rubbing his face, "We get it."  _The raid on the geth super-dread was pointless. Sure, we freed Legion, allowing us to even learn this information, but we went in there to disable the signal, only to learn we changed nothing. Still, at least the quarians are safe in the Dholen System. At least, that's until the geth decide to come after them...fuck! To make matters worse, the signal is on fucking_ _ **Rannoch**_ _!_

Suddenly, Xen spoke up, making her way towards the table with crossed arms, "Despite this unfortunate mishap, there may be a solution. With your permission, I would like to take this platform offline for disassembly. The secrets inside could be the key to helping us defeat this threat."

He looked up at Xen dangerously, anger boiling inside him.  _After all she just heard, she_ _ **still**_ _insists on her madness? No, no more._

"That platform has a name, admiral," he almost hissed, "Its  _Legion._ And you better show him some more respect."

" _It_ has not earned respect from my end, just yet," Xen replied in kind, clasping her hands behind her back, "But if it were to surrender itself to disasse-"

"Legion is my  _friend_ ," Marcus insisted, " _He_ fought beside me on the Collector Base. He helped me to defeat them, and he is helping us now. He's the reason you're even here to begin with."

"Your gun helped you too," Xen insisted, "If people started calling their guns and omni-tools their friends, I'd be immensely disappointed, as any sane person would. Taking apart this unit would-"

He had had enough. "Enough Xen," he snapped, cutting her off mid sentence, "Just  _enough._ I've heard  _enough._ I will not let you dissect Legion like some kind of animal in a lab, and I will certainly not let you come up with weapons to kill a people who just want fucking  _peace_. The answer is no."

"But the scientific benefits-"

"-are off the table," he slammed his hand on the table, fixing her with a deepening glare. For a moment, they just exchanged glares, neither side willing to move.

And then Xen broke, huffing as she dropped her arms, "Fine. But when our people begin to get slaughtered again in another battle because the geth bested us again, that blood is on  _your_  hands. I hope you like the stench of it." With that, the admiral stormed out of the room, leaving only Shala, Tali, Legion and himself.

"I apologize for Admiral Xen's behaviour," Shala stated, "If I had known she would propose such outrageous-"

"I'm not looking for apologies, Shala, I just want solutions. This war has already raced past its supposed expiration date, and I'm beginning to tire of it," Marcus stated, bringing up the hologram of the previous battle above the holo table, "Any offensive on Rannoch now is effectively doomed to fail; we saw how the first assault went. And any foothold you had in the Perseus Veil is now likely lost due to the geth reclaiming it, which means sending in any forces, even into the Veil, is now suicide. All we can do now is launch stealth raids, and even that will be useless against a full geth armada, especially when I want this to end  _peacefully_. This is going to end with peace between your two peoples, or I'll die trying. I ended a thousand years of blood feud between the krogan and the turians, so I can damn well end this."

"I'm sorry, Marcus," Shala shrugged, looking defeated, "But it just doesn't look like-"

"There is one way Shala, and it may seem ludicrous," Marcus stated, pointing at the large planet that the quarian people had sparked a suicidal war over, "But we have to take down that signal in its entirety. If we take that out, we can save the geth,  _and_ get them back to the negotiation table. Its our only hope. But first, we have to locate it," he looked up, knowing it was unnecessary, but did so regardless, "EDI, I want you to work with Legion. Legion, I want you to give EDI all you know and what you don't know. Do not stop until you have the location of that  _damnable signal._ When you have it, inform me immediately," having relayed his orders, he turned to Legion, "Anywhere in particular you wanted to stay on the ship?"

"Our original location will be sufficient, Shepard-Commander," Legion stated, "The AI Core will also allow us direct communication with EDI."

"Good. EDI, better inform the crew. I don't want someone winding up hurt or dead simply because someone had a panic attack at seeing a geth," Marcus ordered. Once he had relayed his orders, he stormed out of the room, not even giving Tali a second glance. He needed a break from all of this. He needed to calm down. So far he had glared down one admiral, beat up another, and then learnt that this efforts the previous day had been for moot. He needed a comforting presence.

And right now, he had one person he had been neglecting ever since his intervention in this war started, one person of who's existence he had learnt off only two days ago.

It was time to be a father.

**{Loading...}**

_July 6, 2186_

_1400 hours._

_Firing Range, C-Sec Academy, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Private First Class Peta'Tasi vas Nedas._

The gun was clicking empty.

Peta didn't really pay much attention to the fact that he had emptied what amounted to an entire two clips worth into the target a dozen meters infront of him, immediately reaching down a hand into one of his many pockets to fish out a fresh thermal clip.

As soon as his three-fingered hands latched around the small cylinder, he quickly ejected the old one, watching its dim carcass shoot from the bottom of the weapon to clang to the ground, smoke trailing from it as it hissed angrily from its dying heat. Quickly, he slammed in the new one in its place, and took aim once more.

His first shot hit true, slamming right into his target's left arm. It blew off in a hale of reinforced plastic shrapnel, spraying the area behind it in its remains. He fired again, and a hole joined the rest he had created in its chest, having blown at least a dozen into the said area. He fired one final time, blasting its head off. The target decimated, it folded back on itself, sliding away to be repaired, while another one popped up, taking its place.

Peta'Tasi vas Nedas' life in the Blue Suns had not ended. Not only that, but he was now officially one of them, not that the Blue Suns training was even remotely hard. Peta would admit it; he had been expecting military training. He didn't know about the rest of the galaxy's armed forces, but for quarians, joining the Migrant Fleet Marines required peak physical training, IQ exams, tactical and strategic awareness courses and a longer school term. And that was just joining the marines; joining the Tilgraps, the quarian special forces division, required even more physical training, deployments from orbit, stealth skills, sniping proficiency, and even more classes. So when he first thought of joining the Blue Suns, he assumed military training. Something he had never received.

Luckily for him, Blue Suns training was nothing like that. All they did was do a medical check up, a few basic questions and a few weapon drills. Because of this, joining the Blue Suns was fairly easy, and he finished his training within a few days. Now he was finally stripped of the rank of recruit and given a rank of Private Second Class.

He had earned his stripes when Cerberus attacked the Citadel. He had been brooding when the pro-human separatists burst through the door, gunning down everything they could find in sight. Peta hadn't even really thought about it. He just summoned the blinding red he now knew he possessed, let it consumed him, and opened fire. What followed was desolation.

Peta had never been a very violent man, but that had all changed one year ago. The fateful day that would lead to his exile from the Fleet. The reason why he was now trapped here, forced to join a mercenary band like the Blue Suns. He had tried to kill the great Commander Shepard in his own bed, all over a woman he thought he loved. The ensuing fury had caused him to end up stabbing said woman in the first place. And now here he was.

He had harnessed that fury the day Cerberus besieged the Citadel, and what followed was alot of enemy corpses. Jentha had been so impressed that she patted him on the back and gave him a promotion to Private First Class. But Peta didn't fool himself; he was no soldier.

But Peta wasn't as delusional as he had been all those months ago. He had once been a stupid little boy in school, believing he had fallen in love with a beautiful example of a quarian female, an engineer going by the name of Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, who would go on to be one of the two Heroines of the Citadel, and a participant in the Eden Prime War. Then she battled the Collectors, all the while Peta desired to make her his wife.

He had been a fool. He thought that what he felt for Tali had been love, when it hadn't been. It had been nothing more than a trick of the mind. A coverup to hide his true intention, one even he wasn't aware of until he stared it in the face.

_It wasn't love. It was a perverted infatuation. A petty form of possessiveness. I wanted her to be mine simply so I could boast about having married the daughter of the Chief Admiral. Her victories in the Eden Prime War only made me desire her more. Her prestige was unmatched. And yet I continued to tell myself it was love. What a bloody bosh'tet I was. An idiot. A cretin._

And his resulting exile lead to his predicament. Peta was a soldier in a war now, and he would damn well do his part. Not for the idealistic mentality that his redemption would come as a result of it, but because he had no other choice. He either fought or waited for the inevitable. The Council had lead the entire galaxy to believe that the Citadel was an impregnable fortress; that the galaxy's capital was inconquerable. But they had been proven not just once, but twice, by the geth three years ago, and by Cerberus just days ago. Soon, the Reapers would come for the Citadel, and not even the immovable sanctuary the station was supposed to be would be able to survive such an assault. Peta would rather be fighting than waiting for the Reapers to find him and kill him.

_Maybe there is some redemption to be found in this, but I doubt I'll be getting forgiveness from Tali or Shepard. Not after what I did._

Sometimes he wondered just what happened to them. He had heard Shepard was incarcerated many months ago, and he assumed Tali had returned to the Fleet. But he had heard Jentha talking before, and he heard her say that Shepard had been present during the fighting on the Citadel. But now he was gone again, off to fight the bigger war.

It was more troubling to know that the Migrant Fleet, his home of so many years, had vanished. According to the galactic extranet, the Flotilla had simply disappeared without a trace, with some reports even insinuating that the Reapers had destroyed them. Other, more prejudiced extranet articles, proposed that the Fleet was on the run, jumping from system to system to hide from the Reaper invasion, or was hiding in the Terminus Systems. Peta scoffed at such an idea, knowing that Shepard was on personal terms with some of the Admiralty Board, and that such an action wouldn't occur without his consent or agreement; which Peta doubt he'd give.

The next target infront of him took the shape of a turian, while the previous one had been a human. Peta's favourite place was the C-Sec Academy Gun Range, trying to hone his skills as best he could with the war looming over him. He had no doubt that Jentha would tire of lurking on the Citadel, and that Massani would eventually have her unit, which he was part of, redeployed to another section of the galaxy to aid the war effort. Whether it was to help evacuate some frontier world or to hit the enemy on the frontlines or to even secure supply lines, he didn't know. He only knew it was inevitable. And he wanted to be ready.

Cerberus' attack had certainly given him a wakeup call. They had been a tough fight, and he could only imagine what the pale, horrifying hordes of the Reaper armies would be like. He heard that hundreds of billions of people went into Reaper concentration camps every day, and they all eventually came out forming new legions of the Reaper demons, monsters and abominations. The line never stopped, and they never ceased to surprise the galaxy when a new type of husk appeared on the battlefield, or weapon.

He had to admit, his skills were definitely improving; never had he hit a target so many times before. And to think there was a time where he couldn't even hit a bottle.  _Perhaps I'm more soldier material than I thought. Or perhaps there's a soldier in all of us, and we just don't know it._

The C-Sec Academy Gun Range was originally only available to Citadel Security cadets seeking to hone their skills, but ever since the Citadel attack, the new Executor, a turian by the name of Decian Chellick, issued a edict declaring that all available C-Sec facilities are to be made available by registered and recognized militia groups, which included the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack. Which is why Peta now occupied the gun range with a few asari Eclipse commandos and the odd Blood Pack krogan.

Even the military had been given access to it. Everytime he entered the Academy, he would find turian soldiers and salarian STG presenting tactical classes to volunteers. He had even come across a joint-physical training exercise in the gym between human N7s and turian Blackwatch. To see the two special forces groups work side by side was a sight to see, especially when they were able to do ten laps around the gym (keeping in mind that it was a full-sized gym, at least 50 meters in width and length) without even breaking a sweat. Just looking at them made Peta feel tiny. The turian Blackwatch, in conjunction with their smaller suborganization of Cabals, had beaten the asari and salarians in a total of six War Games, and the Quarian Tilgraps had only clocked one victory against them in one a decade ago. The N7 had yet to fight the Tilgraps, but he had a feeling they'd be evenly matched.

He raised his weapon once more, and popped off a few more until his clip was once again empty. His target destroyed, it was flipped and replaced by another once again, this one a Cannibal. Peta flinched slightly upon seeing it, noting how lifelike it looked; the three gaping holes it had for eyes and a mouth, all of them glowing bright blue. Its filthy, rugged red skin, with flesh hanging from its body like loose strands of wet toilet paper. The fact that the red on its body was actually exposed muscle, glowing lines trailing underneath being Reaper technology, only further sickened him.

_C-Sec must have put them up._

He quickly scrambled for a thermal clip, but found himself unable to find himself one. Terrified, he almost dropped his pistol in his scramble to find one, growing more and more frantic by the second. And the monstrosity before him only continued to stare. He felt its presence getting closer, as if it were actually approaching. He grew more panicked.

And then the feeling was gone, a hand breaching the thick vines encasing his mind as it landed on his shoulder, grasping it.

He twitched, turning all the way and dropping his pistol in the process. As his vision cleared up, the sudden cold that had been encroaching on his mind dissipating, he realized that the two mercs that had been recruited alongside him, Brendon and Liam, were waiting for their turn, both of them looking at him as they stood clad in their Blue Suns body armor, helmets tucked under their armpits.

"You okay man?" Liam asked, the man's young, calmer features still not enough to calm his own ragged nerves, "You look like you just saw a monster."

 _Perhaps I have._ He looked down to see his hands shaking, and what felt like ice held his legs down, keeping him from lifting his own feet to move. His pistol lay on the ground, thermal clip still waiting for ejection, excess heat pouring from the barrel. Peta made no move to retrieve it, and he simply stared at it, before looking up.

The Cannibal target had not moved, despite what his mind might have told him. It was still frozen, it was still fake and made of reinforced plastic, and it was still waiting for shots to pour into it. But despite himself, he could only look at it, staring into its lifeless, still eyes, and all he saw were the monsters that had once been batarians. Creatures of cybernetic inclination, husks of what they once were and nothing more than cannon fodder for the Reapers. Horrific screams, terrible weapons, and tales of just how they came by the name of Cannibal...

Images of himself on the ground, screaming for help as Cannibals descended on his defenseless form, tearing apart his suit and digging into his flesh. He felt them rip skin and muscle clean from his body, pouring into their mouths to use as a form of 'fuel' for their mechanical-organic hybrid bodies, blood seeping from their mouths as it molded into their body, well at home with the blood already present. They just continued to tear him apart and then one of them descended, mouth open, closing it around Peta's face as he just kept on screaming...

He shuddered once more, and tore his eyes from the target, shoved past Liam and Brendon, and walked as fast as he could from the range. He needn't to get out of here; find some place to hide and rest. Anywhere but here. A place where he didn't have to look at that  _thing_.

It wasn't hard finding the door, even in his rushed state. He quickly tapped the interface, not even acknowledging Liam and Brendon's hushed whispers as he stepped through, not even watching the door close before he moved down the nearest corridor.

_Purgatory. Yes, Purgatory. Somewhere noisy. I need noise. To drown out...the screams. I need noise. Lots of noise._

As he reached the end of the corridor, C-Sec, merc and military officers alike milling about, he looked down the long C-Sec Academy corridor in search of an exit. A quick getaway. He couldn't stay here any longer. If he stayed, the screams would return, the flashes of red, the crunching of flesh between tee-

_Keelah, to hell with it!_

He chose a corridor and moved, and luckily for him, it was the right one. As he moved down the hall, the environment became far more familiar, more recognizable. Numerous open rooms attached to the sides; offices of C-Sec superiors, course classrooms, reception and waiting areas, and even more gun ranges. Bright, blinding lights, smooth sterile walls and tiled floors were all he needed to know that he was in the main Academy.

He continued moving, the noise of people moving about culminating. There was shouting and yelling from people shouting at labourers or crowd-controllers, lectures from classrooms spilled out into the Academy halls, and the odd merc had a confrontation with C-Sec, whether over a conflict in regulations or a mediation of some brawl. Overall, the Academy was bustling with life, even after the Cerberus attack.

Evidence of the attack were still prominent all over the Presidium and Shalta Ward. As he found a stairwell leading into the atrium, he saw bullet holes in the wall, as well as blue, green, purple and red blood that mixed into the walls, dried and left uncleaned. All the bodies had long been moved out to the Presidium for identification and processing, before then being moved to the morgue for temporary holding while the Presidium's many funeral services organized the swarm of requests. There was a long line. Many had even signed for space-borne dispersal, deciding that shooting their dead loved one or friend into space in a capsule was preferable to waiting the entire war just to see them buried.

The Citadel didn't even bother with the Cerberus dead. They were either thrown into a disintegrator or flushed out an airlock, but either way, there was no love for Cerberus on this station. Even Terra Firma and other pro-human parties were eerily silent, shocked by the attack bestowed on them by their 'glorious role model.'

Black scars littered the walls, and bits of rubble occupied many corners. Most of it was small, like dust and bits of crumbled walls, but others were huge, with massive concrete slabs or pieces of wall having collapsed in their entirety, and occasionally, C-Sec clean up crews would be forced to pull out another dead body, and they were always terrified about finding the body of a child.

There had been plenty of those, apparently.

As he moved into the atrium though, it was clear the Cerberus siege had driven the Council into further action. Entire news networks were broadcasting unfiltered, unedited footage of the attack galaxy wide, letting all galactic citizens, even in the Terminus, know just what the human supremacist group was. And by unedited, he meant full graphic context. Reporters just as Emily Wong and Khalisah Al-Jilani risked their necks in borderline war journalism to show violent scenes of Cerberus gunning down civilians, bombing schools, and shooting down evacuation shuttles. The worst of all were the images of the refugee camps. He had heard many humans refer to them as 'Auschwitz' camps, and from what he had researched on the name, they weren't wrong; Cerberus had rounded up every non-human and sympathizer, even if the sympathizer was human, and just executed them. The humans they rounded up and took away, but luckily only got away with half, with the UGC turning up to save the day.

He was moving towards the nearest rapid transit terminal, which was just across the room. The main atrium of C-Sec Academy was definitely defined by its flare and majesty, with its high ceiling reaching up 20 meters above him, allowing him a full view of the central elevator that led up to the docks above. Another elevator was on his left, at the top of a flight of stairs, leading up to the Presidium. The crowds were thickest here, with the multiculturalism being the heaviest its ever been. One could say that with Peta counting, almost every single species was milling within these corridors; key word being almost.

Even species that were supposed to be extinct.

He yelped as he tripped, his upper legs bumping into something directly infront of him. Having not seen where he was going, he didn't see the mass of red chitin directly infront of him before he was toppling over its smaller body, flopping onto the ground.

With a grunt, he immediately rolled over, trying to appraise just what he had fallen over. People all around him looked at him as if he was somekind of idiot, or were simply surprised by the sudden action. Regardless, they made their way around him or shot him sneers, the latter of which who's reasons were pretty obvious.

He learned pretty quickly, and his eyes widened in fear. The mass of red chitin was only just shorter than him, sporting extended feelers that moved above its head, acting as arms. Tinier versions with claws extended infront of it, and it was held up by four legs holding its weight. Its body sat on a main body, with the rest looking like a neck that extended backwards and then forwards, much like a scorpion's tail. It had beady black eyes, and it made a clicking sound as it looked directly at him, making no hostile action to attack him, despite what he thought of it.

_So its true...they really do still exist..._

_Your song is one of sour fear notes. Let us fix your trepidation with our melody. We wish your song no harm._

Peta had no idea what any of that was supposed to mean, but he simply nodded, slowly and hesitantly, before verbally speaking, "I-I-I was j-just leaving, a-actually."

 _Then your song is one of hurried notes. Very well. We must take our leave. Notes of labour must be sung._ And with that, the rachni soldier took its leave, taking off across the room at an increased pace as all the people moving about parted for its passage, letting it crawl towards the entrance of a keeper tunnel and move inside.

So far, Peta had come close to far too many heart attacks.  _Noise. Need more noise._

The blaring of announcements over the PA and people rushing about talking loudly was not deafening enough. Purgatory would ail this.

He quickly hailed a cab, and once inside, found himself rushing towards Purgatory. The ride was mostly silent, his asari driver navigating through traffic as they rapidly approached the Presidium. C-Sec Academy was located to the section of Shalta Ward closest to the Presidium ring, which made transportation to it fairly quick. It only just occurred to him on the ride that Purgatory might be closed.

 _The Presidium was hit hardest by the attack_ , Peta realized,  _and I was there when they stormed the club. Purgatory might still be under repairs, and that's if C-Sec even prioritized it over C-Sec HQ and the hospital, which they definitely will not have done. Damn it, Peta! Should of thought this out!_

He couldn't stop his current course though. What if Purgatory was open? He needed the noise. Dark Star was on Zakera Ward and too far away, and Flux's music just wasn't loud enough. Purgatory was the closest source of loud music, and be damned if repair work was going to turn him away. Besides, if it was cordoned off, why would the driver be allowed to take him there? Surely, the taxi services would have been informed of difficulties on the Presidium?

As it was, the Presidium was still a mess. He imagined that this is what it looked like during the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel, with rubble in the lake and covering the area. Smoke still filtered through the air, dust and debris likely caked many of the cafes and restuarants and businesses covering the Presidium's two flanking sides, and wreckage from destroyed Atlas mechs and aircraft was likely still wedged firmly into some areas. Other buildings had been totally destroyed, and the civilian death count was likely still unaccounted for.

But as with all Citadel recovery efforts, the Presidium would be rebuilt first. It was the main symbol of the Citadel, its beacon of hope, but also its greatest lie. The Presidium represented the pleasures of peace time, and as the public, as well as Peta, had just been shown, they were far from it.

Thankfully, Purgatory was not closed. But it also wasn't without its security. The sign for Purgatory was missing the 'g,' and the doorway was currently wide open, its door having been blown apart by Cerberus breaching it. C-Sec officers covered the area, as well as the odd Alliance marine or army trooper.

But what truly drew Peta's attention was the reporter standing outside the club. Her camera drone hovered beside her, currently in dormant mode, and not looking to be recording anything. She wore a blue and red dress that reached past her ankles, causing her to drag it along the ground as she walked, and her black hair was down in a flow around her, her tanned skin recognizable through any news outlet. Peta had seen more than enough of her.

Reporter Khalisah Al-Jilani. But she didn't look to be reporting anything, her hand to her earpiece as she looked to be animatedly speaking to someone.  _Why is she here? Surely not to complain about the objectification of women. Of all the things to be reporting about, like the massacres going on through the galaxy, the constant UGC defeats and withdrawals, all she can think of is that? Surely not._

He had been so focused on her that his cab driver had to actually nudge him in the shoulder to let him know they had landed. Shaken from his daze, he handed over his credit chit, and stepped from the car, immediately making his way towards the bar without a second glance. But as the car took off, he began to hear more of Khalisah's conversation, especially when the word 'Flotilla' was used. Stopping, he immediately turned, and listened in on the woman's conversation.

"-what I'm saying is that its ludicrous!" Khalisah hissed, still pacing as she spoke, "There is simply no way the quarians could be so-yeah. Uh-huh. Yep. Well I...wait,  _really?_ You're serious? You're sure its him?" she seemed to stop at the mention of this guy, and then her face lit up like a lightbulb, "So let me sum this up so I know I'm not getting this wrong. You're telling me that you have a source who told you that the quarian flotilla, in the middle of a galactic-scale war, decided to invade the Perseus Veil, and now Shepard is helping them to take it back? And that they just destroyed the geth super-dread? How the hell would he even know this?" she continued listening, and her eyes widened, "An informant? You're relying on the words of someone who openly relayed information about his own fleet movements? Well well well."

His interest peaked he immediately, approached eyes widening.  _Flotilla? Perseus Veil?_ _ **Shepard?**_ _Did they really do it? ...are they reclaiming the homeworld?_

_Keelah._

The immensity hit him in the face. The quarian homeworld, something every quarian child dreamed of seeing, and his people had launched a war to reclaim it? But they were woefully outgunned! The geth were superior in everything! How could his people have thought any hope of victory was possible? And why now? Why in the middle of a war? Surely they know they can't find a war on two fronts? Peta was no general, but even he knew the odds of winning in those conditions.

But these were his people. His entire species. All of them were going to wage war on Rannoch, and Shepard himself was out there helping them. Which most likely meant Tali was out there...

_Even with Shepard, do they really think they have a hope of beating the geth? Shepard's just one man...and if my people are launching a full assault against Rannoch, it could mean Tali's death..._

Suddenly, the horrible images of Cannibals and Reapers disappeared from his mind, and he felt a determined ache creep up his spine. It was a good kind of ache; one that inspired confidence and action. He didn't know what caused it, perhaps it was the thought of Tali dying, but he suddenly felt motivated to  _help._ To go out there and save his people. Because even though they exiled him (which he acknowledges was just and fair), they were still his own species. Keelah, the entirety of Clan Yala, his family, were on the Flotilla, likely dying by the dozens as the geth cut them down.

_Can I really tell myself to stand here and shoot my sorrows away while my people are dying out there? Could I live with myself, knowing the person I wronged died, and I became the last of my people?_

It was now that Peta reached a startling revelation. His mind flashed back to the memory of his lips against Tali's, how it had felt, even with her sleeping and unaware. He had only wanted to touch her, to feel their connection, and he realized that his mind still realized how  _right_ it had felt.

Peta had been trying to tell himself that what he had been thinking wasn't love, but a perverted passion. The corrupted lust. A need to be popular, and marrying the daughter of a high admiral would have gotten him the prestige he craved. But he had never craved popularity, or even attention.

He had truly loved Tali, but she simply hadn't loved him back. That had been Peta's mistake; thinking that love was always reciprocal.

Which is why he felt a spark. A small tingle in the back of his mind that told him not to wave away this opportunity. This is how he would prove himself. This was where his path to redemption would end. Where he would finally take the high road. To make himself  _worthy_.

He was no idiot. He knew Tali did not love him back and never would, and he had no doubts that Tali and Shepard had already married. His actions during those days were idiotic and foolish, and they would never be repeated again. No, he would make himself worthy for his  _people._ He would  _prove_ his virtue. He would pick up the rifle, something which he had never done before now, and fight beside his people on the battlefield against the geth.

And if they died anyway? Well, at least Peta wouldn't have to live knowing his entire species was extinct.

Finishing his approach, he heard Khalisah finish her call with her friend, "-realize how hard it will be to get access to an area like that? The UGC likely has the entire cluster under quarantine, and given the nature of the strong Reaper presence in the Attican Traverse, I doubt going in there would be very beneficial for m-...yeah. Uh-huh...hmm...well of course I want the inside scoop! What do you think I am, an amateur? In case you're forgetting Jen,  _I_ was there during the Battle of the Citadel. I  _risked my life_ to capture the footage you saw on ANN. I know what war journalism is like, but I also know when it...do you even know what happened to Allers? It didn't end well for her, did it? Yeah. Okay..."

Peta just patiently waited, Khalisah seeming not to notice him, and he crossed his arms, watching her. Suddenly, she stopped and concluded her conversation.

"I have no way of getting into the Veil even if I wanted to. Besides, you think they just let anyone through? I told you; the UGC likely has it quarantined. Noone will get into that cluster unless they allowed to-" finally, she turned, and took notice of him, eyes widening, "Wait a moment," she then addressed him, hand lowering from her ear, "Can I help you? Do you realize how rude it is to just listen in on someone's conversation?"

_Well, she hasn't called a suit-rat yet, so...here goes nothing._

"I heard you want to head into the Veil to provide coverage of the Second Morning War."

She nodded, "Yes, and I'm sure that would be of some interest to a man such as yourself, but that doesn't justify dropping in on my conv-"

"I have a history with Commander Shepard," he blurted out, hoping to catch her attention.

It certainly did. Her mouth clamped shut instantly, and there was a spark in her eyes. Suddenly, her defensive, offended stance dropped, and she adopted a gesture of absolute curiosity and interest, and raised her hand back to her eye piece, "I'll call you back, Jen." She then turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest, "You've got my attention, but if I recall, Shepard only had one quarian companion, and she was female. You're definitely a male."

"I do not deny it," Peta joked, but seeing as it seemed to be entirely wasted on Khalisah, he simply continued, clearing his throat as he stood up straighter, "My history with him was brief and confrontational, but I knew him well enough to know that what your source said was true. He is in the Perseus Veil, and my people most definitely are attacking the geth. Do you have an interest in documenting it?"

"Its my job," she deadpanned, "I'm a journalist by propensity. If its war, I've got the experience. If its digging into every dirty little secret in Citadel Security, I've got the experience. Emily Wong's good, but I've got her beat," she seemed to say that with some arrogant flair, but he just ignored it, not knowing Wong all that well anyway, "So yes, I'd very much like to get the inside scoop on this. My editors need something fresh in this war, and I'm sure our audience galaxy wide is getting tired of seeing colonies burning. It begins to paint a very stale picture. Something new is needed...like our great hero leading troops fearlessly into battle. Something to boost morale."

Reaching forward, he patted Khalisah on the shoulder, smiling behind his mask.  _I shall redeem myself. First, I'm going to start here._

"You've just found your ticket in, ma'am."

**"I wouldn't call Peta's return a pleasant sight, but...what he did? It was bravery. Complete bravery. I'll never forget what he did."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Neither will I. I hated him, but now? I'll always remember."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yeah, I had to split this interim into two chapters, so instead of one interim chapter, you'll have two now. The next one will feature Marcus' conversation with Javik and some parenthood issues.** _

_**Peta's return was not an on the spot thing, but I have been debating with myself on how I should ease it in. I didn't want him to just pop up at the right moment to save the day, because that's a deus ex machina I'm trying to avoid. Some deus ex machinas are doable, because they either make sense, don't immediately happen when the main protagonist is in trouble, and usually have their own conflicting situations. Having Peta just fly in and kill a bunch of seemingly invincible geth would not only be stupidendously silly and unrealistic, but it was just be a blatant deus ex machina cliche that I can't be bothered dealing with.** _

_**Peta will help out in the Quarian-Geth Arc, and I already know what will happen with him. Will he die? Will he join the Normandy crew? Will he become a war asset? I'll let you have your guesses.** _

_**Next chapter, like I said, will be Javik and Junior, and after that, the rescue of Koris. The Quarian-Geth Arc might be longer or shorter than I had anticipated, but it really depends on what changes I decide to make or implement along the way. I'll be sure to keep you posted, regardless.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	43. The Fatherly Principle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard comes to grips with being a father. A Cerberus manhunter is given an important mission.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:**

**THE FATHERLY PRINCIPLE**

_July 6, 2186_

_1403 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Junior._

Marcus Shepard was a man of many achievements. And by achievements, he didn't just mean in the military. Sure, alot of them were attributed to his combat abilities, but according to many, his deft hand in diplomacy was the envy of many politicians. Ever since Marcus was born in Israel, to when he first set foot on the late Arcturus Station as a six-year old kid, he had been curious and creative, either when annoying the hell out of his mother, or annoying the hell out of his teachers.

He remembered when his mother first showed him the bridge. He had been sixteen, and she had managed to get permission from the captain of the Einstein, Henry J. Hood (who was now the Chairman of Human and Foreign Affairs on the Citadel, funnily enough), if Marcus would be allowed to observe the bridge during a War Games exercise. Such affairs were delicate in the military, species being irrelevant. He didn't remember just which War Games it had been, but he remembered that it had been against the asari, of which the Alliance won by a score of 12-11. A tight match.

A year later, he had been taken to see the christening and launch of the SSV Orizaba. Back then, he had found it odd that they smashed a bottle of champagne over the ship's hull to bless it, as did the many Council race supervisors who were there to oversee the launch, as well as to ensure the vessel fit the requirements and restrictions laid out by the Treaty of Farixen. Even when his mother explained to him that it was an old human tradition dating back thousands of years, he still never understood it. Even to this day, he was confused at the silly gesture.  _Waste of perfectly good alcohol, really..._ It was funny, because that very ship he had watched launch would become Hannah's personal command only four months later. He couldn't remember why it had happened, but the words 'previous captain's incompetence' did come to mind.

He remembered how terrified and furious his mother had been when she found out that he went against her direct wishes and signed the papers for joining the Alliance Marine Corps behind her back. He had been of legal age, eighteen, but Hannah, naturally, was scared that he would be deployed to some colony somewhere to defend against somekind of batarian attack, and that he could get hurt or killed. Even he explained that Anderson, who Hannah had met four years before, had been training him, Hannah hadn't been reassured. It had taken Anderson's personal recommendation and reassurance to calm her down.

He remembered her pride when she dressed him up in his navy blues, having just survived basic and being enlisted in the Alliance Marines. How she had smiled and hugged him, telling him of how much he looked like his father.

He remembered the pain, sweat and blood he went through during his training for the N program, having been handpicked by Anderson himself, who was already a decorated veteran. He also remembered the stupid grin he had on his face when he received his N7 promotion.

He remembered the first girlfriend he truly cared about; Roshia. A member of his squad. The thrill of their forbidden romance. The fun times he had with Sarann, Nathan...

Then came the less than happy memories; the batarian invasion of Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. Hordes of slavers, coming from every scum hole and trash bin in the Attican Traverse, Batarian space and Terminus Systems, looking to sell entire families for the premise of easy creds. How the death of Roshia had sent him into a fit of rage. How he had ordered his squad to retreat. How he had manned the machine gun in the face of a massive slaver army, and simply tore into the enemy ranks. After that day, he would be promoted and known as the Lion of Elysium. The man who held back 10,000 enemy soldiers with just himself, his loss and a machine gun.

He remembered being placed under Kyle's command as they charged fortified batarian positions on Torfan. He remembered losing Sarann and Nathan in the charge. He remembered slaughtering the entire batarian garrison without mercy, blinded by fury and malice, even killing those who tried to surrender. They called him the Butcher of Torfan.

He remembered Akuze, how his platoon was devoured before his eyes as they were ambushed by Thresher Maws. The smell of vomit and blood and acid, the beating drums of his heartbeat in his ears as he fled as hard as he could, terrified for his life...the Survivor of Akuze.

The attack on Eden Prime. Saving and meeting Tali. The Battle of Virmire and losing Ash. The Council's betrayal and his mutiny. Discovering his love for Tali. The race against time on Ilos and learning about the Reapers. The Battle of the Citadel. His death over Alchera. His resurrection. The destruction of the Collector Base. Killing the Shadow Broker. Marrying Tali. Peta's exile. The destruction of the Alpha Relay. His incarceration. And now...just  _now._

He had faced all of that, all of that. Marcus Shepard, Lion of Elysium, Butcher of Torfan, Survivor of Akuze, Hero of the Citadel, Geth Slayer, Bane of the Reapers, Foe of Saren, Destroyer of the Collectors...

...and one child was causing him more grief than all of those put together.

"God," Marcus groaned, holding up the child in his arms as he gently patted the back of his little head, "Are you trying to kill me?"

If Junior gave an answer, he did not voice it. Instead, all he heard was a choking, gurgling sound. Eyes widening, Marcus almost cried out as his hand on the back of Junior's head moved back, allowing him to see the child fully. To his relief and annoyance, Junior was not choking.

But a neat lining of nutrient paste was dribbling past his lips onto his chest, and Junior seemed to have a smug grin on his face.  _Oh, you little bugger..._

He was about to reach over and across his desk to grab a pair of tissues, only to realize that when Junior's food had dribbled out of his mouth, it had subsequently spilled out onto his shoulder, bits of chewed up paste liquified and turned into a disgusting, brown mess, and it just continued to slip down his shirt and onto his lap, causing him to almost curse out loud. However, he remembered the child in his arms, and simply bit down on his lower lip, giving his rage within.

Retrieving the tissues he had been looking for, he quickly dabbed at Junior's lips, wiping them clean of the half-chewed paste. When Junior was cleaned up, he threw the ruined tissues into his nearby bin and retrieved a few more, using them to clean his own shoulder, and subsequently, his lap. The kid's saliva had done a number on the paste, meaning the liquid had already begun to dampen his pants and the left shoulder of his shirt. Throwing the tissues into the bin, he sighed, pulling Junior up until he was dangling in his arms, Marcus holding him under the armpits. He looked into Junior's eyes, searching for intent.

Junior just stared back, grin disappearing.

Marcus could only smile in return.  _You evil little bastard, you think you can best me? I'm Captain Shepard, Saviour of the-_

He watched, with horror, as a single, solitary tear escaped down Junior's face. Marcus' momentary victory was left forgotten as he realized what was about to happen.  _Oh shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-!_

And then, a tidal wave of emotion hit him, and Junior began to wail.

Realizing his mistake, Marcus quickly came to his feet, standing up tall as he brought Junior to his chest, head on his shoulder as he began patting his back gently, pacing back and forth in a rocking movement, hoping to calm the kid down. But Junior just kept crying, tears streaming forth as the sound of its sorrow pierced his father's eardrums, sending him to the brink of mental breakdown.

_I don't even have the first clue on how to be a father. Give me a rifle, I'll shoot shit. Give me an army, and I'll lead it. Give me a kid...this happens._

He was beginning to think he wasn't fatherly material. And with Tali working with the admirals in the War Room and talking with Legion and EDI, he couldn't really ask his wife for assistance. Which would have been fantastic, given that women seemed to have a vital spark that just shot up whenever they needed to be a mother. That...motherly spark. Why couldn't he have that?

_Could really use that right now..._

Junior was totally unaware of the grief he was causing his father, and just kept balling. And Marcus just kept pacing and pacing, patting and patting, desperately trying to calm the poor kid down. But nothing was working. Junior was intent on stirring up mayhem, and on letting his father know how discontent he was.

_Discontent? What do you know of discontent? This kid is the fucking Antichrist._

When Junior just kepting crying, he rectified that thought.  _Nope, he's_ _ **the**_ _Antichrist._

Usually, whenever something liked this happened, Tali was present and would rectify it fairly quickly. Tali just had that quality that Junior liked, apparently. Or maybe it was because he was all of a sudden in the arms of a big bearded man, and was terrified beyond its wits of why its mother had suddenly been replaced by such a terrifying monstrosity.  _I must look like bloody Big Foot. Or a Grizzly Bear. Whatever the case, I bet that's why Junior's crying so hard._

Since there was no crib, Junior was forced to sleep inbetween Marcus and Tali, which mostly had its downsides. Marcus liked to think he was a light sleeper, but his son was changing the entire playing field. He had woken up one night at 1 in the morning to the sound of Junior crying, and Tali had, in her sleep-induced coma, mumbled that it was his turn to 'take care' of Junior. Oh, what a fun morning call that was.

The next day, everyone in the mess had learnt why he wasn't a morning person.

Marcus quickly reached down to the small table below and retrieved Junior's milk bottle. Given that Tali, again not present, was unable to breastfeed Junior at the moment, it was up to Marcus to use this milk bottle as a final attempt to his life from destruction. Luckily for him, the bottle was almost full.

_God, don't play jokes on me now. Let this be the bastion of my soul...my own personal Fredericksburg. Here we go..._

Placing the nipple towards Junior's mouth, he gently eased the bottle to his lips, and to his everlasting relief, he welcomed it greedily, mouth wrapping around the nipple and sucking noisily, but contentedly.

Mimicking what he had seen Tali do many times, he rocked him back and forth, gently and soothingly, while still holding the bottle to Junior's mouth. The fact that he was already able to hold the baby with one hand and hold a bottle with the other was a feat in itself for the man who was supposed to be unable to be a father.  _Not bad, Marcus. Not bad at all._

But he knew that he was going to run out of milk soon, and with Tali not present, he couldn't ask her for help. There was only one person he knew who had utmost experience in that regard, one that excelled Tali by close to two decades. Funny how he'd end up calling her for advice on how to be a proper father.  _I wish dad was still alive right now...he'd know what to say..._

Gently laying Junior ontop of his desk, he reached for his chair and quickly grabbed it, dragging it over so that he could plop himself down in it. Finding comfort in its embrace, even if it had almost no padding whatsoever, he moved forward and quickly activated his terminal with one hand, watching it switch on with a beep and a bright blast of orange light. Junior almost stopped for a moment as he watched it activate, and he grinned at him, stroking the side of his tiny face with one, big finger.

"You've never seen a terminal, have you kiddo?" Marcus grinned, smiling warmly, "You'll have one of your own, one day."  _One day. I'll buy it myself._ It was then that he realized something. Junior...Junior...it wasn't even a proper  _name._ Junior was more of a template...wait, a template...

 _Junior isn't his actual name. Tali...Tali hasn't given him a name. She waited all this time so that I could be here to name Junior with her at my side._ It was thoughts like that that made him love Tali all the more.  _Thank you, Tali. I know we'll name him well._

Still feeding Junior, who seemed to be taking his time digesting the milky liquid, Marcus turned to his terminal as it finally booted up. He, once again one handed, typed in his password, gaining him access to his personal documents as he popped the milk bottle from Junior's mouth, allowing the baby time to breathe. This Junior did in post-haste, looking to be sucking in great mouthfuls of air as he just lay there, arms occassionally flapping around as he didn't even cry. For a moment, Marcus thought Junior had finally calmed down.

Then Junior's eyes squinted again, preparing for another onslaught. Marcus visibly sighed, selecting his contacts list before popping the bottle into Junior's mouth again, silencing the child before he could weep openly again.

_I know what you're doing, Junior. I've been there and done that. I know every dirty little trick in the book. I know a scam when I see one. Well, you ain't winning, kiddo! Just wait until you're old enough to start walking! Then some discipline and I'll have you-_

_Shit. Did I just go full-dad there? Maybe I'm not as incompetent at this as I thought._

It took him a second to realize he had scrolled down his contacts list and already selected the one he wanted. Before he knew it, the glass covering his ship model collection dimmed, the micro-visual filters switching on as their imagery was projected onto the screen. Suddenly, his models disappeared as the entire screen turned black, the words 'Connecting...' at the top left of the screen.

Electing to tickle Junior's tummy, something the little monster seemed to like, he waited as the connection set. What normally would have taken mere moments took minutes as the connection was rerouted. Unfortunately, the war, the  _actual_ war, he reminded himself, had done quite a number on the galactic network, and a number of comm buoys in numerous systems and even entire clusters had gone offline as they were either destroyed by the Reapers or were hit due to friendly fire. Because of this, comm buoys had to reroute their connection to the nearest one, which sometimes could be entire clusters away.

Add ontop of that that they were in a cluster that hadn't had comm buoys for centuries (or did, but were ancient, obselete relics or simply not operating anymore), and the Normandy's extranet connection, at present, was slow as shit. So like he said, a process that should have taken moments, took minutes.

Eventually, six minutes later, a familiar face appeared on screen. Instead of her usual attempt at being cheery despite her hard work, the war had not been kind to Hannah Shepard. With her now being Rear Admiral of an entire battlegroup of vessels ontop of already commanding one with a very obnoxious Fleet Admiral yelling commands in her ear, and you had one Alliance officer who wasn't taking crap from anyone. Luckily for her, the remnants of the Fourth Fleet weren't seeing much action due to the severity of the damage inflicted upon it during the brief but brutal Fall of Earth, meaning that the fleet was now currently housed at the top secret location of the Crucible's construction.

"Uh, Mark," Hannah greeted, her voice sounding tired and aged beyond her years. Her hair was not unkempt however, and her cap was seated tightly on her scalp, the golden bars of a Rear Admiral seated on her left breast. However, that was the only thing tidy about her. Red rings surrounded her eyes, there was a sad quality about her usually vibrant eyes, and her shoulders were sagged. The background looked to be a singular room, and she seemed to have been holding a datapad, at least until he had contacted her, "It sure is good to see a friendly face, especially my son."

He smiled back, although it was forced, "I've interrupted something, haven't I? Sorry, I'll call ba-"

"No need for such a thing," his mother dismissively waved, dumping her datapad unceremoniously onto the desk before her, "Nothing of interest to me anyway. I was just reading fleet reports, news outlets and a few articles on how to get to sleep while there's a fucking war going-damn it. I'm ranting. Apologies, son. You shouldn't have to be subjected to this old woman's ramblings."

"You look like shit," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Do I?" Hannah replied, sighing as she nodded, rubbing the back of her neck, "I'm certainly feeling it," with a final grunt, she twisted her neck, and the sound of very audible cracks could be heard, "And how are you, my son? I doubt the war is doing you any favors."

"All things considered, its actually going fairly well," Marcus noted, smiling slightly, "Curing the genophage and repelling a Cerberus siege of the Citadel are among my list of reliefs. Lost alot of good people, but I wouldn't consider it pyrrhic."

"I heard about the celebrations on Tuchanka. The galactic network is  _still_ going crazy about it," Hannah smiled, although it was strained, he could tell it was genuine, "I also believe the footage of a Reaper getting devoured by the mother of thresher maws has gone viral. Just yesterday I caught bunch of marines watching it on repeat. It certainly did alot for morale, my boy."

"We can beat them, mum," he stated firmly, actually believing it, "If a thresher maw can kill a Reaper, you sure as hell bet we can."

"Irix Coronati proved that when the Reapers first came into the Apien Crest. You want to know how many kills he racked up before his line was overwhelmed? Ten kills.  _Ten._ Considering our current predicament, we could use numbers like that again. You were right son; the Reapers aren't invincible, and hopefully we can hurry up and finish this damn bowling ball and end this nightmare."

He noticably perked up at that, "How is construction going? Making any progress?"

"Slowly and steadily, and that's just what I saw," she replied, coughing lightly, "But ever since the STG started sending in their techies, we've been getting alot more work done, especially technologically. And those rachni? Scared the hell out of our techs when they first popped up, but I tell you what, you give those workers something to do, and they do it. One of our architects decides to do something one way, the workers do it, but better and more efficiently. They're little miracles, I'll tell you. Still, even with them, its slow. We've only just managed to finish the infrastructure of the weapon, and we haven't even touched the weapon's core yet. And even when we do finish it, we need that catalyst."

_If only we knew where it was. If only..._

_It's out there somewhere, we just need to find it. But building the UGC's alliances is a top priority. Even if we do find the catalyst, we can't use the Crucible unless we have a big damn fleet to defend it while it powers up. And for a weapon of that magnitude? I'll be surprised if it's ready instantly._

"We'll find it, mum. Don't worry," he replied.

"I know. Its you, I worry about. Stunts like the ones on Tuchanka? You never cease to give me a heart attack," she joked, shaking her head.

"We're in the Far Rim, if you want to know. Broiled in the middle of a damn war between the quarians and the geth. Reapers got involved, so yeah," he added.

"Sounds like you got your hands full," Hannah concluded with affirmation in her voice. She knew all too well what having your hands full was like, but at least his involved combat action. Hers involved a desk, four walls and a datapad, "But I guess quarians means you've run into Tali?"

"Certainly did. And before you ask, she's fine, mum. A little bit of a rescue mission, but otherwise, she's fine. No worse for wear." It was then that his attention was brought back to his originally intended topic and he quickly popped the bottle from Junior's mouth and picked him up, bringing him into view of the screen.

"Mum, meet my son, Junior," he then gently grabbed Junior's hand and waved it up and down slightly in a waving gesture while Junior just looked blankly at the huge face suddenly lighting up infront of him, "Junior, say high to grandma."

"You're telling me I have a  _grandson_?" Hannah cheered, her face lighting up like a tree, "Why did...why didn't you...oh my  _God_! When? What center did you adopt at? When did you-"

"No adoption, mum," Marcus just kept grinning as Hannah gave a disbelieving look.

"Don't try to con me, Mark," she chastised, "I know interspecies reproduction is impossible."

"Normally, yes. But Mordin..." the scientist's name still brought upon waves of sorrow, but he managed to continue regardless, "...being the brilliant SOB he was, managed to make a serum that allowed me and Tali to have a baby. And it worked, mum! What you're looking at is my own flesh and blood, and Tali's! Not adopted, and not a product of surrogacy or artificial insemination!  _Ours._  A true Shepard."

"Come to think of it, he certainly does have that mischevious look you had when you were just a baby. You were a nightmare," Hannah groaned at the memories, trying not to remember them.

Junior was awfully quiet, Marcus noted. He hadn't made a sound since his bottle was removed, and simply sat there, looking up, completely shocked at the technology presented before him.

"Trust me, Junior's no different," he replied, "But he seems to like you. He was bawling all over me before. Now he's just quiet."

"Is this why you called me?" she asked, seeing right through his facade, "You obviously didn't call just for social hour, so you obviously called for some parently advice. And for step one, need I remind you that you're holding him wrong?"

"Grama."

For a moment, Marcus wasn't sure where the alien force had come from. When he realized just where it had come from, both Marcus  _and_ his mother remained as still as stonewalls, eyes fixated on Junior the entire time.

Junior spoke again, this time raising his arm and extending his full finger to point at the elderly woman before him.

"Grama."

_He spoke. Junior...he actually spoke._

"Yes, kiddo!" Hannah replied happily, a single solitary tear dropping down her cheek as she wiped it away, "I'm your grama!"

Junior turned around, and pointed directly to Marcus, "Dada."

He smiled, kissing the child's tiny hand, "Yes, I'm your dada."  _How is this even possible? I was lead to believe babies took ages to develop the ability to walk, let alone speak. He shouldn't even be able to speak yet..._

Apparently his mother thought the same thing, but was simply too ecstatic to care as she had been able to witness her grandson speak his first words.

"Mama?"

"Mama's downstairs, little buddy," he replied softly, rocking the child back and forth, "Mama will be up soon."

"Mama!"

Marcus had a son. One he thought he would never have. When he had chosen Tali, he had acknowledged that he was forfeiting his ability to conceive children. But now...Mordin had allowed Junior to be birthed. Allowed him to  _exist._ Marcus and Tali owed everything to their late salarian friend, and he wished the professor could have lived long enough to see his achievement. Both of them, cure and serum. Wherever that brilliant man was in the afterlife, he saluted him.

For it was little moments like this that made Marcus truly appreciate life for what it was.

Precious, and finite. And he would not waste it.

**{Loading...}**

_July 6, 2186_

_1659 hours._

_Armoury, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance SR-1, In Orbit over Benning, Euler System, Arcturus Stream Cluster._

_The Reaper War, Raid on Benning._

_Major Randall Ezno._

Sometimes he missed life on the Barn.

Currently, Major Randall Ezno, head of ship security and master gunnery controller onboard the Deliverance, stood over a weapons bench, his Harrier assault rifle spliced on its shiny, steely-grey metallic surface. He had gutted it to its most basic parts; everything from the barrel to the trigger mechanism, and even the heat sink, lay exposed on the bench, being inspected inch by inch by its overly meticulous user.

This was basically his source of entertainment these days; take apart his weapons, or when he didn't need to, the other weapons contained in the frigate's armoury, and just take them apart to either improve them, repair them or learn their inner workings. Randall had always had an obsession with weaponry, and that had never changed. This was only enhanced when he joined Cerberus all those years ago.

He turned back to the bench infront of him, inspecting the weapon parts intensely, nudging aside the barrel as he decided to address the heat sink. The Deliverance was currently holding orbit over Benning, its stealth drive active as to remain hidden from Reaper forces within the cluster. The Arcturus Stream had been largely left untouched by the Reapers aside from the Arcturus System, which had been the site of the brief Battle of Arcturus, leading to the destruction of the Alliance Parliament, and Arcturus Station itself. Aside from Arcturus though, the rest of the Stream was left unmolested. But that would change soon however.

The total absence of Alliance forces however left Benning ripe for the taking, allowing Cerberus to take the civilian populace by surprise. With the failure of Operation Deathstroke still hanging high over Cerberus' heads and Shepard nowhere to be found, the Illusive Man had taken to launching many restoration efforts to rebolster Cerberus' near-depleted forces. They still had thousands of troops at their disposal, but they needed more. The Citadel would have provided them many more, but due to Shepard's intervention, only a quarter of its potential for 'recruits' had been harnessed.

Which is why they were now at Benning, the last human colony still standing. Its civilian population, 2.25 million, were mostly centered around the planet's capital city of Joughin, which meant it had plenty of soldiers to conscript. So, with the Deliverance at the head, the Cerberus Sixth Fleet entered the system, and immediately launched their assault on the defenseless, unknowing world. They managed to overwhelm its miniscule militia in a matter of minutes, allowing the population to be hoarded onto the Cerberus transports. 2.25 million people, ready to be processed and turned into fresh Cerberus troops.

Kai Leng was leading the Deliverance's relatively small continegent on the surface, as the Illusive Man wanted him to personally oversee the operation. Leng had emphasized that Randall wasn't needed on the surface, leaving the man on the Deliverance. Which led to Randall's current position in the armoury.

With an irritated sigh, he reached a hand up and scratched at his cheek, where one of his implants poked out. Cerberus had implanted him with the standard issue implants that all Cerberus soldiers currently got, improving his capabilities in combat. He was also given powerful cybernetics, allowing him to pull off feats many normal humans, even if heavily-built, could not hope to achieve. Most of the time, Randall was grateful for the upgrades. His reflexes improved drastically, and he was an overall more impressive combatant. But if only he could have those upgrades without this damn  _itch._

Randall wasn't a very comely man, even with his implants. He had initially reacted badly to them, which meant his once brown, combed hair was almost ghostly white, only a few strands of his original, natural color left. His skin had even darked slightly, taking on a more tanned quality than before. He now had cobalt blue eyes in place of his originally hazel ones, and lines covered his face in almost every crevice, glowing bright red due to his implantations. And they all caused so much damn  _itching._

Randall just kept itching in irritation, convinced he would end up having to scratch them raw before they stopped, and even then they'd persist. He would keep itching until his skin started peeling off, and then he would rip out the source of his irritation, and finally sigh as it was removed...before dying of intense blood loss.

He elected to ignore the flaring discomfort, trying his best to exile the itch from his thought process, instead focusing on the rifle infront of him. The M-97 Mattock Auto, known by most of the military as the Harrier, was the spiritual successor to the formidable Mattock. Taking the semi-automatic heavy rifle, which featured one-round burst mechanics, but was able to deal a massive amount of force in momentum in one strike, and upgrading it to make it automatic. Sacrificing magazine size for more damage, the Harrier's upgrade to automatic firing allowed it to decimate its enemies much more quickly, its heavy rounds chewing up armor much more efficiently, and with ease. His kind of weapon.

He thought back to the events that had led to him being on the Deliverance. He had originally been a manhunter for Cerberus, a position that did not come with a light paycheck or a peaceful runtime. His job largely involved abducting high value targets, whether it be well-known politicians, military leaders, corporate managers or special test subjects. Randall was good at what he did, and he had clocked up an impressive list of abductees. His last one had been that of a retired turian general named Septimus Oraka, on the ice world of Altaaya. After that, the Illusive Man had contacted the Director of the Barn, his home station, and told him that he was being transferred to the Deliverance. And so here he was.

He returned to examining his weapon, ignoring the incessant itch on his face. It called to him, demanding for the discomfort to be relieved, but he would not give in this time. He had to learn to control it.  _The itches are only a minor mishap compared to the power I now wield thanks to them._

Unfortunately, he could not use that power to focus, which meant that he was in no mood to fix his harrier. In the end, he gave up and began to rapidly reassemble it. He didn't understand why he was so distracted. He usually took mere minutes to analyze and apply a solution when he was building or assembling weapons, but today he was just out of it. Almost as if he was bored of the task.

Once his harrier was back in one place, its casing reattached and covering it once more like a layer of skin, he slotted the heat sink back into its original place, making the rifle operable again with a loud beep. Picking up, he made his way over to the nearby storage locker, and placed it firmly inside, hearing it click into place as it was clutched by the magnetic clamps inside. Contained within were many other rifles, like Revenant LMGs, Mattocks, Valkyries, Avengers, Usurpers, Sabers and many others. All thanks to Cerberus. They certainly did get the best equipment.

After having stowed his rifle away, he closed the locker, keying in his personal code to make sure it was locked. Cracking his neck with a weary sigh, he turned from the now secure locker and leaned back, letting his back connect with the cool, metal surface of the locker as he crossed his arms and appraised his surroundings with disinterested observation.

The Deliverance, by all meanings of the word, was the sister ship to the Normandy SR-2. A direct copy, or at least, a direct copy of the vessel long before the Alliance got their hands on it and likely made changes. There was the five decks, and each deck was the same as the Normandy's had been. Same stealth drive, same weaponry, same color scheme, same engines, same everything. Only thing they couldn't copy was the crew, but that was unavoidable.

The armoury, for instance, was a prime example of this consistency. Located on the CIC Deck, the armoury was located at the back of the deck, on the port side of the frigate. It was quite a large room, stretching across the deck so far that an observation window at the back allowed a view of the drive core down below.

The room had a sterile feel to it, with grey-silver metal bulkheads and support beams lining the room, with the odd Cerberus golden hexagon painting the wall, or 'Deliverance' or 'SR-1' accompanying it or standing alone. Across the room were numerous lockers, for both weapons and armor, as well as benches that could be used for tinkering with equipment or modifying weapons like he had just attempted to do.

A door to the left of the room let to a miniture T-shaped junction, connecting the Tech Lab, Conference Room and Armoury respectively. At current, Inali Renata, the doctor he worked with on the Barn, was working in the Tech Lab, and the captain of the ship, Armistan Banes, was in the Conference Room, having a nice little chat with the Illusive Man's pet assistant, Geoff Dielheart. Apparently the Illusive Man was still coming to terms with the failure to take the Citadel.

_It was a seemingly insurmountable goal. You can't just stroll onto the Citadel and take it. The place is fucking huge. TIM thought taking it would be like Omega all over again, but he forgot to account for many things: 1, the Citadel has proper military forces to defend it and 2, Petrovsky wasn't there. The man's tactical brilliance is what won him Omega, not his troop numbers and technology. Taking the Citadel was a strategy doomed to fail._

Randall's shift currently coincided with Hal McCann's, who was the actual chief armourer; Randall just helped out. His official position was chief gunnery controller, which meant the main guns, especially the bulky Thanix Cannons, were his priority to maintain. McCann was on break in the mess hall, which was a good thing; he hated talking to the man. He never shut up about his damn headaches.

_Keeps telling everyone like they should give a shit. We all get the headaches; its just a side effect of the implantations and the cybernetics. Why can't he just suck it up like everyone else and quit bitching?_

Times like this made him wish he was on Benning. Hunting down and capturing people was what Randall did best. Instead, Leng had been sent, which was the exact  _opposite_  of the assassin's skill set. Leng killed people, Randall captured them. Why they were swapping roles was totally unknown to Randall, but he didn't make a habit of questioning the Illusive Man's decisions. Especially since the man seemed to be developing a harsher attitude ever since the war started. He had been ruthless before, but never on such a scale.

 _Yet again, it's war. I'd be surprised if he remained the way he was. As he always says 'everybody is expendable, even me.'_ But it still made Randall wonder just what kind of expendability TIM was talking about. Cerberus headquarters was only known by name, but noone had ever visited it and come back remembering where it was. They could vividly remember what they did there, just not how they got there, or how they got back. Almost as if certain sections of memory had just been...dissected.

_If so, that's some advanced technology. I know they brought a man back from the dead, but to be able to choose which memories to erase? Cerberus never fails to impress in the technology department. All for humanity._

All for humanity. Is that why they were abducting their own people? For the betterment of-

The itch increased, and his head began to throb, painfully.

His headache was so sudden and brutal that he almost cried out and doubled over. Instead, he bit down painfully on his lower lip, so hard that he drew blood. As it trickled down his chin from his ruptured lip, he cradled his temple, trying to coax the headache from his brain. As soon as it had built up, it was gone, as had the itch. Confused, he stood up, trying to remember what he was thinking of beforehand.

Nothing came to mind.

A few moments later, he was still unable to think of what he said, and simply shrugged, retreating into the pit of disinterest. Whenever Randall was bored, he adopted this stance. It wasn't as if a manhunter had alot to do on a ship like this, especially when he wasn't actually helping the operation in any fashion. What else could he think of to do?

Just as he began to stare aimlessly into the deck plating however, the door from the corridor opened with a swish of air being released, the door's multi-surface splitting apart to click into place within the walls around it.

He looked up to see who was coming through at the exact same time said person walked through it. He was wearing a firm, ironed Cerberus officer's uniform, which was basically the Alliance uniform with white and gold instead of navy blue and black, with the gold bars of a captain on his right breast. He did not wear his cap, choosing to keep it off. The man had a very light goatee going on, but aside from that, he had no facial hair whatsoever. Even his scalp was barren, the man having chosen the bald side of life.

Armistan Banes' eyes almost immediately locked onto Randall as he walked into the armoury, giving a brisk nod, "Randall, the Illusive Man apparently has a mission for you and your men."

That peaked Randall's interest and he immediately uncrossed his arms, moving forward to brace against the bench, fixing Banes' with all the focus he could give, "I assume it isn't just a herding operation?"  _Give me something to capture. Someone important. Fuck, something to kill. Anything is better than being stuck on this ship, doing nothing. I need a reprieve._

Banes nodded, coming to stand on the opposite side of the weapons bench that Randall was leaning against, "The Illusive Man doesn't want Leng to lead this mission. Says he's far too prone to anger and that his recent failure on the Citadel will drive him to do...irrational things. Things that could potentially ruin the assigned task. No, he wants you to do this. According to your service record, you're calm, patient, good at ambushes and almost always successfully grab the target. 1-20 failure to grab, ratio, correct?"

Randall nodded, taking no smugness out of his task. He was a machine, a war tool, and there was no point in admitting that he was good at what he did, "That's correct. My list includes retired or active generals, politicians, would-be assassins, you name it, I'll nab it."

That caused Banes to perk up an eyebrow, "What about famous, heavily-armed and active, soldiers?"

Now Randall was  _definitely_ interested, "...not so much. But I did manage to capture the great Septimus Oraka, so how's that? Does that count, sir?"

Banes creased his lips, looking to be deep in thought. He just stood there, thinking over his decision, as if the mission he was about to give to Randall could decide the course of the war, or the very fate of Cerberus itself. Besides, what did the Illusive Man deem so important?

_Famous, heavily-armed and active, soldier. Why is that ringing bells?_

And then it clicked. It was quite clear who Banes meant. Randall mentally slapped himself for not realizing it before. Who else would the Illusive Man want that was a great soldier and galactically renowned, and had been causing untold amounts of trouble for Cerberus for years?

"Captain Shepard," Randall blurted out, breaking Banes' thoughts as his CO's attention was drawn back to him instantly at the two words. Confident that's what Banes meant, he continued, "You want me to capture Shepard."  _Hard, but not impossible. Hard to attain, but he's not invisible. Still, the man's service and track record certainly are impressive, and worrying. His kill count is in the hundreds of thousands, and that's not over years. He killed seven thousand slavers with just a machine gun turret and pieces of concrete as cover on Elysium, and held off the other three thousand long enough for reinforcements to arrive. He survived a Thresher Maw ambush. He's thwarted our invasions of Eden Prime and the Citadel, wiped out the Collectors, and killed Saren Arterius. The man's a walking legend, and I'm supposed to nab him?_

_Still, nobody's invincible. After all, Shepard did die at one point and had to be brought back. If I can catch him off guard..._

Banes shook his head, sighing as he rubbed the back of his head, "Not exactly. You see, the target you need to abduct is not Shepard."

Randall frowned, "But you said it was a soldier who was famous and heavily-armed."

"Never said that. I merely hinted at it. That, and what I was going to say is that the person your nabbing just happens to be  _very_ important to that heavily-armed soldier," Banes reiterated, visibly grinding his teeth. Obviously, the meer thoughts running through his head were enough to be sending the man into a indecisive mental frenzy, leaving him unable to decide whether what he was about to order was ethical or not.

_Just makes me more curious._

"Who, sir?" Randall asked. Seeing as Banes didn't respond and simply looked at him, Randall decided to take a few shots in the dark, gathering what information he remembered from the man's service record.

"His mother, Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard? Do you want me to capture her?"

Banes didn't answer.

"His pilot? He's extremely important to the Normandy's operation, and his capture would potentially cripple Shepard's war effort. Is that who you're talking about?"

Silence.

"...the turian? Archangel, was it? Or was it Vakarian? Yeah, that sounds right. Those two seem pretty close, so he must be the target, right?"

Still no answer. Banes just looked at him, urging him on.

"...the quarian? Tali'Zorah would be pretty-" then he saw it. Banes' eyes changed. The way he looked at him, it was as if his body was tensing up. He just froze in position, taking a deeper breath than usual through his nostrils. Randall just nodded, ceasing his assessment.

_The quarian. That's who he wants me to capture._

"Why?"

Banes cleared his throat, his adam's apple bulging as he swallowed, sighing heavily as he responded, "Because Tali' _Shepard_ is his wife. They've been married over a year now, and due to her high importance on the Migrant Fleet and overall status in Shepard's life, capturing her and holding her for ransom would hopefully bring Shepard over to the Illusive Man's point of view. Or so he believes."

Randall just scoffed, in complete disbelief. Not at Shepard's choice of women, but at the Illusive Man's  _rationale._

_How could he possibly think capturing the man's wife will achieve anything? Noone who is devoted to destroying an organization like ours could possibly be swayed by his wife being held at ransom. If anything, that gives him further motivation to destroy us faster._

"How..." he gulped, trying to find the right words. One wrong word, and he would be thrown out an airlock. Insulting the Illusive Man or his image now was akin to sin within Cerberus' ranks. Almost as if the guy was some kind of diety, "...that doesn't even make any sense, sir."

Another heavy sigh, "As I'm well aware of, Ezno," Banes stated, looking almost...tired, "I do not pretend to understand the Illusive Man's decisions all the time, but our course is set. There can be no going back. This is your assigned task, and you must follow through with it. Its not up to people like us to question the big wigs upstairs."

Randall gave a crisp nod, understanding his mission, "So you want me to somehow capture Tali'Shepard. Any idea on how to do this?"

"You'll be given a small squad of men. Its not much, but its the best I can give you at the moment," Banes declared, bracing against the table, almost as if he needed to whisper the task, "At current, one of our informants on the Veil's order recently reported that the Normandy was spotted with the Migrant Fleet in the Perseus Veil. We can assume he is currently helping the quarians with their war against the geth, which would explain his sudden disappearance from the frontlines."

Randall just snorted at that, "The quarians...attacked the geth?"  _What a unbelievably stupid move. We're in the middle of a war with the greatest enemy this galaxy has known, and they waste their valuable resources fighting a vastly inferior enemy. Talk about pathetic timing._

Banes nodded, clearly agreeing with him. Who wouldn't? "What's done is done, and I don't really care who the quarians go to war with. The less allies Shepard possesses, the more we can be left alone and work towards controlling the Reapers as the Illusive Man so desires," Banes declared, "Anyway, we can now assume that Tali'Shepard will either be in the Perseus Veil or the Far Rim. How you capture her is now up to you. The Illusive Man doesn't mind if she is injured, as long as it isn't life threatening and she's alive. Not much use to us if she's dead."

"It'll be done," Randall firmly declared, turning away as he rekeyed his code to open the weapons' locker.  _Now_ _ **this**_ _is what I do. This is what I'm good at._

"The Deliverance will be leaving with the Sixth Fleet for Project Assimilation. Sixth Fleet will dispatch the new subjects to Director Lawson, and then we'll be heading for Bonaparte Station for refuel and refit. Where we go from that is unknown. I'll give you our communication code; ping us when you're ready for pickup, and we'll move in. You'll be getting a small shuttle, as the Illusive Man didn't want to risk even a corvette for such a delicate task such as this. You heard what happened to the Tajikistan."

"I did," Randall affirmed, "But Captain Nepal was a fuckup. I am not. Tell the Illusive Man he will have his hostage." Everyone in the higher ranking Cerberus officer structure knew the Tajikistan incident. Captain Nepal had tried to ambush and capture the Normandy crew upon their return from the Omega 4 Relay. Not only was their ambush counterambushed and the entire team killed save for Jonathan Sand, but the Tajikistan ended up being destroyed. So much for the 'potential of Nepal.'  _And he was supposed to be one of his best._

Randall knew of what happened to Sand. Shepard had handed him over to C-Sec on the Citadel, but the Illusive Man's reach was everywhere, and within a day, one of the 'C-Sec officers' arranged for Sand to 'choke on his own food.' Such was the end to that particular threat. But rest assured, Randall intended not to be another Tajikistan. He would complete his task, as he always did.

 _I'm a Cerberus manhunter. I've captured politicians, generals, assassins, diplomats, ambassadors, bankers, corporate managers, wannabe rebel commanders, the lot._ Randall did not know failure because he had never experienced it.  _I wonder if that's how Shepard feels? All victories, no defeats? Is this what being a legend feels like? If so, it feels great. The invincibility. The assurity of victory._

"Good," Banes declared, giving a nod before motioning towards the CIC, "You'll be leaving in four hours; that's once we've gathered all the colonists from Benning and left and before we hit the relay. Pick your team and be gone by then. Choose your team well, because you'll be going in with a small team; four men each. This needs to be low scale and stealthy."

"I understand," Randall declared, with utmost clarity in his voice, "She won't know what hit her until she's already in the Illusive Man's hands."

_And then Shepard will be undone._

**"So I guess this is when you went to save Admiral Koris? Records show he didn't die in the Second Morning War."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"We saved him alright. But at great cost."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**I've been slammed (rather inconveniently) with a cold, hence my writing near the end got slightly shittier. I eventually gave up trying to write Javik's section, knowing I'd never get it done at the rate I'm going. Perhaps the next interim I'll do one. Just not this one.** _

_**The next chapter will be the rescue of Koris. After that, it all depends. First off though, I've got to get over this fucking cold, which is really starting to piss me off.** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _

_**AND SUCK IT RED!** _


	44. Pyrrhus of Koris, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Admiral Koris' ship was shot down by the geth on Rannoch, and now he's in trouble. Shepard's squad arrives to flush him out.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:**

**PYRRHUS OF KORIS PART ONE**

_July 7, 2186_

_0923 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Legion._

Marcus watched the war table hologram with complete focus, unwilling to be broken from his observation by any forces around him, even if it was Tali standing beside him. She was just as focused as he was, as were the other two admirals on his right, and Kal'Reegar, who stood opposite him with hands firmly clasped behind his back. Beside Kal, on his left, was Legion, the geth standing stoically as it looked to be processing information continuously.

On the table was a holographic projection that was beginning to become a familiar sight on the war table; the large planetary body of Rannoch, its orange, dusty plains and small, blue oceans being done no justice by the holo particles of the projection, depicting a completely blue sphere. In its orbit was the red particle forms of the geth fleet, all thirty thousand ships, with the lone signature of the dreadnought shown on the other side of the planet.

Rannoch, home of the quarian species. His wife's homeworld, in principle. Sure, she had never been born there, but her species had. The quarian race had originated from that garden world, from its rocky surface, and became the people it was today. Kal and Tali had told him of a species that had been proud and mighty; before three centuries ago, the quarians had benefited from a flourshing economy on par with that of the modern Asari Republics, a moderate military and a heap of trade, especially with the Volus Protectorate and the Turian Hierarchy, the latter of which had been known as the Empire of Palaven before it had been reformed into the Hierarchy. Rannoch had been the center of a bountiful quarian republic, where quarian language, culture, music, medicine and food had been once known by the entire galaxy. Their technological prowess had even outdone the Salarian Union, the geth being a prime example of this.

You would never know it, to look at the quarians now. Only the asari and krogan from that time period who survived would remember any of it. Now the quarians had no economy, their language and culture were limited to themselves, they had lost their territories to their own AI creations, their music and medicinal inventions had been claimed by greedy companies and their true creators lost to the historical archives, and what food the quarians had left was limited to paste in tubes. They were stuck in suits, and forced to live out their shame for three centuries. The Council had four members once. Now, it only had three.

But now, as Marcus thought of his wife, Tali, by his side and ready to watch his back if he asked her to, they were coming home. The quarians had grown sick of their prolonged exile, their perputual punishment. They were coming back to claim what had once been theirs; the once proud territories of the defunct Rannochian Republic. Planets, systems, asteroids, dust...all of it. And they would have it all, if it wasn't for their stupidity.

_All they needed to do was open peacetalks with the geth. They would have Rannoch by now. But no, Gerrel had to play the big war hero. The man who defeats the evil geth. Fucking jerk off._

Now Marcus was stuck having to clean up their mess, and what a bloody mess it was. The geth had probably lost many ships and troops, but it was nothing compared to the trap the quarians ran into when they assaulted the geth lines around Rannoch. The quarians, despite their view within the status quo, had boasted of their enormous fleet. Until the quarians, the species that owned the largest naval presence in the galaxy was the Turian Hierarchy. But the quarian Migrant Fleet was a total of fifty thousand ships in size, the largest in the galaxy.

And it was now reduced to forty-eight thousand.

_I just can't believe it. In one assault, the geth destroyed two thousand quarian ships. How many quarians perished? Tens of thousands?_

After such a staggering defeat, Marcus could not allow the Admiralty to risk their Fleet again. Two thousand was already too much...what if they lost more? What would be next if they risked another costly strike? Would it be double? Four thousand ships, perhaps? Or would they go for double digits? Ten thousand sounded like a significant amount.

_No, I cannot risk the Flotilla any further. Too many quarian lives have been sacrificed for the Migrant Fleet to simply give itself away for a few geth ships. For every geth ship they destroy, they would lose fifty. Its too much, I say. Far too damn much._

The more Marcus thought about it, he could find no doubt. Curing the genophage had been alot easier than this. At least he hadn't had to make the cure himself; Mordin did that. All he had to do was kill a whole bunch of Reapers and Cerberus to make sure Mordin dispersed the cure...to make sure his sacrifice was worth it.

_Damn it, Mordin. Why did you have to die? Why the fuck couldn't you just let me handle it? I could have...I could have done something...you didn't have to die..._

Thoughts of Jacob and Mordin seemed to totally consume his thoughts of late. Mordin he could rest easier on, knowing the salarian died for a cause he believed in, giving his life away so that millions more could live in happiness. He died allowing a race to thrive again. But Jacob? The man was the  _cusp_ of escape, and at the last moment was stabbed through the back, murdered by a racist, sadisitic psychopath who would rather run away than face Marcus in sustained combat. And Thane? His drell friend had managed to beat the man while he was fucking  _ill_ , and yet Leng still managed to kill his friend? Why did all the good people have to die, but Leng got to live? What of Shala's husband, Byp? What the fuck kind of sick reality was this?

He remembered his silent oath.

_Shala's husband._

_Jacob._

_Thane._

_Three names. Three names that I will fucking_ _**carve** _ _into Leng's skull before I rip his eyes from their sockets, followed by his tongue. When I have had my due with that bastard, then I will finally answer his pleas for mercy, and break his fucking neck._

He shook those bitter, darkened thoughts away, deciding to give them no respite.  _Leng's time will come. When it does, I shall avenge Shala's husband. And Jacob. And Thane. I shall avenge them. But right now, I've got two species to save from each other._

He focused back on the map, remembering just why they were summoned here. As the admirals had informed him after his mission on the super-dreadnought, Admiral Koris had decided to follow Gerrel's idiotic strike into the geth fleet. But Koris, deciding to be a hero, rammed his flagship, the Qwib Qwib, destroying the cannon, but leaving Koris and the surviving crew either stranded in orbit, or on Rannoch itself. Which apparently Koris didn't think through, because if he did, he would realize his death could possibly leave to a Quarian Civil War within the Civilian Fleet.

Which was their current dilemma. Usually, the military brass would immediately pin Koris as Missing In Action or the Qwib Qwib lost with all hands, but when it came to Koris, they couldn't just replace him. The man had inspired the love of his entire fleet, and when that fleet made up almost the entire Migrant Fleet; you couldn't afford to just replace him. Retrieving him and hoping that he was alive was a necessity in this matter.

Marcus had never really liked Koris before hand, especially during Tali's trial, where the man had seemed so hasty on exiling her. But when he got to know the man more, he became a man he could agree with. Before Tali's promotion, Koris had been the only admiral on the Board to realize that peace with the geth was possible and avoiding an all-out war was pretty much the best option for his species. Had the other admirals listened? Of course not, but the idea that at least some quarians believed in a brighter future between their two peoples brought some hope to their otherwise dire situation.

And now Koris might be dead. Or worse.

So here they were, trying to hatch a rescue plan. Obviously, going in guns blazing was already out of the question. The Reaper signal was more than likely operational again, meaning the geth would once more be as powerful as they were before the super-dread's destruction. So without the Fleet, that left one option open; the Normandy's stealth system.

"...what I'm saying is that simply replacing Koris in this matter might be the better option," Xen rationalized, drawing Marcus' attention to her as she argued with Shala over Koris' fate. Gerrel was on the Neema, as Marcus had meant what he said; the man was literally banned from even setting foot on the Normandy for the rest of the damn war, and then when it was over, he wanted nothing more to do with the warmonger. Tali just rolled her eyes along with him, her hand firmly over his as it lay flat out on the table, "He might already be dead, and if he isn't already, the geth patrols will find him, and then his crew and himself will wish they were."

"You don't know that!" Shala shot back, waving a hand at the projector, "Koris and his crew could still be alive! What if they made it to the surface? Its been two days! They could have made it down there and survived! We cannot simply give up! Besides Xen, you and I both know what will happen if the Civilian Fleet learns Koris is missing! There will be chaos! If the geth don't destroy us, anarchy will! We cannot afford to lose the Civilian Fleet!"

"I am completely aware of Koris' effect on the common people, Raan!" the younger admiral shouted back, slamming her hand down on the table, "But they will simply have to  _adapt_. They will come to their senses and realize that this is war, and in war, people die, especially admirals! Besides, they'll sober up when we dress up their precious admiral as a war hero!"

"What?" Shala and Marcus asked in almost perfect tandem.

"Its simple," Xen began, hands behind her back as she seemed to calm down, "We tell them the truth, but embellish it abit. Koris gave his life defending the Fleet from harm. He and his crew gave their lives to destroy a planetary cannon, and in doing so, allowed us a great victory. It is his sacrifice that will win this war. If we can sell that, then we might convince them to elect a new admiral and move on. But I cannot emphasize how much of a waste of resources and logistics it would be to attempt a rescue mission. Its simply too perilous, too hasty...any number of things could go wrong that could end up with the rescue team dead."

"You want to use Admiral Koris as a  _martyr_?" Tali asked, dumbfounded by the admiral's suggestion. Hearing no objection, Tali just shook her head as she turned to Xen, shaking her head with a slight laugh, "Koris might not even be dead, and you want to convince our people he's dead?"

"I told you, we cannot afford to waste resources recovering one man and his crew! This war is too important, and we are already on the losing side!" Xen argued, narrowing her eyes into slits, "Devoting our efforts to retrieving him is out of the question. We must now focus on destroying the Reaper signal. We  _will_ tell the Civilian Fleet of his martyrdom, we  _will_ let this slide and we  _will_ move on with the mission. Enough time has already been wasted."

"You're forgetting something, Xen," Tali growled.

"And what's that?" Xen purred, looking quite pleased with herself as she crossed her arms and leaned on one hip, "I'm sure you will enlighten us, Shepard."

" _I_ am Chief Admiral. And since this is a matter of  _Fleet Security_ ,  _I_ have the final word," Tali hissed, crossing her own arms but looking anything but pleased, "I will not let potential anarchy and chaos tear apart our homes because you were too afraid to risk a rescue operation. Or is it really fear? Maybe you're just seeing the potential to rid yourself of a political opponent. You never did like Koris."

"What?" Xen spat back, looking insulted as her arms fell to her side, "Are you suggesting-? You little whore!  _ **How dare you even suggest that**_! Koris was a-"

"-enemy. And now he's gone. Seems to be working well for you," Tali drawled, looking totally disinterested in Xen's act, especially the insult she threw her way. Tali knew Marcus was bristling from the attack, and looked about ready to choke the life out of Xen for what she said, but Tali had no care in the world. Tali called the shots now; she would not be talked down to, "Look, you can play your little games, Xen. You always have. But if you think I'm going to buy the 'I'm sorry he's gone' act, you can stop right now. You never liked Koris or respected him. I remember you had a few choice words about him at my trial. Or did you forget that? I believe one of the words you and Gerrel used was 'suit-wetter.' You spat on him, rediculed him, and all he tried to do was save and preserve our people. Yes, I believed you back then, but times have changed. Koris wanted this war to end, and with him gone, he can longer praddle on about it. Don't even try to deny it, Xen."

Xen seemed frozen for a moment, completely taken aback by Tali's attack on her. That was a first for Xen, Marcus realized. The woman seemed to always have a cynical comeback, some trick or insult under her sleeve to use. Being a scheemer, Xen always had a backup plan, so this didn't really surprise him. It was when Xen just shrugged and gave in that really sold him, "You are right, Tali'Shepard. I despised Koris. I always thought he was a delusional imbecile, living in dreams of grandeur and peace. We have a term for people like him, Tali'Shepard. I'm sure you know it. You used it yourself, once or twice."

"Regrets," Tali muttered.

"Oh yes," Xen hissed, looking totally unamused, "And Koris was the worst of them all. I'm convinced he was spreading his vile idiosyncrasies and disgusting propositions to his entire Fleet! They probably all believed him! What do our civilians know of the geth? What they did to us? Did they forget they murdered our children as we ran? Did they know they shot down our ships? Burned our homes? Took our nuclear weapons, and turned them against-"

"That is not true, Creator Xen," Legion immediately protested.

Xen looked like a professor at a University lecture who had just been told she was full of shit. Slowly turning around, he eyed the geth infront of her, as if its very presence was an insult to her existence, a pariah to her intellect. It was a look that could melt glass, for Marcus could practically see through her mask and see her expression; one filled of disgust. A person regarding a mere insect. It was the quality that had made Marcus hate her the moment he met her; her completely disregard for the geth was...horrifying, "Excuse me?"

"We have reached consensus within this platform, scoured our historical records, and have found no corroborating evidence to prove your assertions, Creator Xen. So, we are forced to conclude, that you are either lying, or have been mislead by false inform-"

" _Lying?_ "Xen snarled, slamming her fist against the table as she fixed the geth's optics with an icy stare capable of freezing over the Simpson Desert, "You  _ **dare**_ to suggest I'm  _ **lying**_!? Do you realize who you are addressing, machine!?"

"Creator Admiral Daro'Xen nar Shellen vas Moreh, Admiral of-"

" _ **I AM A CREATOR, YOU STUPID MACHINE!**_ " Xen roared, Marcus shocked by her violent outburst. He had never seen her so angry before, " _ **You cannot talk to me in this way!**_ "

"All current evidence suggests that this platform currently is," Legion replied.

"Legion, what do you mean what Admiral Xen is saying isn't true?" Shala asked, looking hesitant to even address the machine, but too curious not to, "Surely you must know of what came to pass in the Morning War?"

"We do, Creator Shala'Raan. This platform was present during the entirety of the conflict. Our historical records have been left unmodified, and they prove that none of these events took place," the geth infiltrator explained, remaining almost stoic. All the quarians in the room, as well as Marcus, were fixated on Legion, including Xen, who was now silently fuming.

"No evidence of the slaughter of organic offspring took place. Despite our relatively confused state, the geth were still able to differentiate between adult and child-based targets. We also realized that, based on the organic conventions on morality in warfare, it is considered 'unacceptable' to kill children. So we did not. We were also unable to access nuclear weapons because the creator military had decommissioned theirs after the Border Skirmish At the Sea of Storms Cluster as dictated by the Treaty of Kaddi. We also did not shoot down creator transports; at the time we were...unsure of ourselves."

"Unsure of yourselves? What do you mean?" Tali asked inquisitively.

"An error in our programming caused us to cease all actions against the creators when we realized they were initiating a complete tactical withdrawal," Legion declared, its head flaps eerily still, as if Legion itself did not understand what it was saying, "As a result, we did not pursue the creator ships."

"This geth is lying," Xen snapped, dismissing the geth's statements almost immediately after it had finished, "All of these are lies! Our own records have no evidence of a treaty or a border skirmish!"

"This is because the border skirmish took place in 1567 on the human calender; three hundred and twenty seven years before the Morning War. The treaty was written after the skirmish ended, which ruled that both sides would agree to mutual trade, total nuclear proliferation on both sides and the creators would be allowed broader military access to the Sea of Storms Cluster."

"That seems pretty elaborate for a simple lie, Xen. Maybe its time to accept facts. Your historical records are clearly biased and full of quarian propaganda," Marcus stated, turning to the addressee in question, "Besides, you made it clear yourself, as has Legion. Geth can't lie. Its simply not in their programming. If he said it didn't happen, it didn't. Simple as that. But right now, I think we need to turn back to the issue at hand."

"As much as the subject of retrieving our  _true_ history is exhilirating," Shala agreed, turning away from Xen as she braced against the table, the other admiral refusing to even acknowledge the change in subject, "Marcus is right. Retrieving Koris is our primary objective."

"I've told you before," Xen began with a frustrated overlay, waving her arms as if she was explaining this to a child, "We cannot risk sending in a rescue team! The logistics needed to do so is too much! And if we lose the team? Do you realize how hard it is to squeeze a small team through that geth blockade? They have the entire planet under blockade! Any team attempting to reach the surface would be detected immediately and destroyed. This mission is ludicrous and, quite frankly, a waste of our time and resources. If we can just move our time to locating this sig-"

"Creator Xen fails to acknowledge that the Normandy is equipped with stealth capabilities that geth sensors, even with the Old Machine code, cannot detect," Legion interrupted, ignoring Xen's outraged snarl at being cut off once more by the geth, "Using this, the Normandy could reach Rannoch's surface undetected."

"So?" Xen rasped, rolling her eyes, "Even if you do reach the surface, then what? Our homeworld is millions of kilometers in size! He could be anywhere on the surface, if he survived! How are we supposed to find him?"

"I don't know much about quarian space conventions, although I'm sure they are similiar to everyone else's," Marcus began, motioning to the hologram infront of them, "But when escape pods are launched, how exactly do you think nearby ships find them? It certainly isn't by visual. When launched, the pods are equipped with beacons that activate as soon as the clamps are detached, allowing nearby ships to find them. This beacon was the very reason I was able to find Tali's escape pod when she flushed from her own ship."

"The Qwib Qwib was originally a salarian scout ship. So even if other quarian ships didn't, the Qwib Qwib certainly would," Tali immediately declared, bringing up her omni-tool, "EDI, could we, in theory, use the QEC to triangulate and lock onto outbound signals and locate their origin?"

"This can be done, but I would require Legion's help as well," EDI stated, her purple orb appearing on the pedestal beside the war table.

"We are ready to assist," Legion declared, its body visibly perking up as its head flaps jerked upwards.

"Initiating triangulation," EDI declared, and for a few moments, nothing happened. And then, a series of blue circles, like a ripple on water but continuous, appeared on Rannoch's surface, on the southern hemisphere. It beeped continuously, pulsing outwards almost non-stop. It was the definite location of Koris' crash site.

"Well I'll be damned," Kal chuckled slightly, shaking his head in almost absolute disbelief, "He actually survived. He reached the surface."

"His survival is yet to be determined," Xen stated dryly, "If we picked up the signal, the geth will have to. No doubt they'll have troops scouring the surface for Koris and his crew. They're methodical; they are likely dead already. Its been two days. Alot can happen then."

"We don't have to take the Normandy," Marcus said, ignoring Xen's constant source of pessimism, "We can take our shuttle. Its one of a new line of shuttles equipped with the same stealth technology. The Normandy could deploy us on the outskirts of the system, and we'd take the shuttle the rest of the way. Not only do we get through the blockade unscatched, but we'll get the jump on any of the geth forces on the surface. EDI, get me a comm with Cortez in the Shuttle Bay right away."

Instantly, Cortez's voice came through the comm system from the ceiling above Marcus, projecting down into the room, "You wanted me, Shepard?"

"Prep the shuttle for insertion. And make sure the stealth system is up to scratch, because we're going to use it," he turned to Tali and, with a firm nod from both her and Kal, as well as Shala, he finished, "We're going on a rescue mission."

"Roger that, Shepard," Cortez replied, "I'll spin her up right now. Should be ready by the time you get here. How many you bringing with you?"

"Only a few. The less people I bring, the quieter this'll be," Marcus stated firmly.

"Okay then. I'll clear some room in the shuttle while I prep it. And the stealth system hasn't been used much, so it should be fine, but I'll check it just to be sure," Cortez finished reporting, and he imagined the man giving a nod.

"Good. See you soon," EDI quietly disconnected the comm, and Marcus once more turned back to the group, "Tali, Kal, you needn't ask; you guys will be on the rescue team. So will Madi, Legion, Garrus and Keeling. Again, I need as few people as possible so we can make this insertion as quickly and quietly as possible. The more attention we draw to ourselves will just end with more geth reinforcements raining on our heads. We must do this with utmost discretion."

"What of the crew?" Tali asked, frowning, "There won't be enough room on the shuttle."

"We'll figure that out when we get there," Marcus stated, nodding to the group, "This is of extreme importance, people. We cannot afford to lose Koris. If we do, then this war is already lost. Understood?"

The whole group nodded, including Legion. Even Xen gave in after a while.

"Then you're dismissed. Away team, head to the armoury and gear up. I'll be there in a minute," Marcus ordered, turning back to EDI, who was still glowing on her pedestal, awaiting any new orders, "EDI, tell Joker to set a course for the Tikkun System. Bring us just on the outskirts, as close to Rannoch as possible."

"Aye aye, sir," EDI replied, and quickly disappeared. He chuckled at her usage of terminology.  _She's learning fast._

Kal and Legion quickly filed out, but Shala and Xen remained, moving to a special side of the room so they could chastize each other in peace and also relay the mission details to Gerrel, who wouldn't be too happy about it.

After a moment, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing them. He hummed lightly as they kneeded the taunt muscles between his shoulder blades, sighing in relief as they were relieved.

"I know we're going to rescue Koris, but do you know where we're going?" Tali whispered in his ear, voice full of delight and excitement.

_Of course I know. How couldn't I? We're going to your home._

"Your homeworld," Marcus smiled warmly, "We're going to land on your homeworld," he reached up a hand, squeezing her own, "I told you you'd get to see it."

"I just never thought I'd have to see it like this," Tali replied mournfully.

"Hey," he whispered back tenderly, turning around as he enveloped her in a tight hug, her head tucking in under his own, "It'll all be okay. We'll rescue Koris, and then we'll take care of that signal. Then we'll all go home. You can even show me around Rannoch when this is over, if you like. Show me where you want the house."

She suddenly stopped hugging him, pulling away to look into his eyes, "You still remember that?"

"Of course I do," he shot back, grinning from ear to ear as he reached a hand out to stroke the side of her cheek, "And its my home too now, so I'll want to know exactly where you plan to place this house. I'm sure it'll have a beach front view, won't it?"

"I love you," she whispered, tucking into his chest even further, "When this is all over, I look forward to building that house with you, on Rannoch. But when I do show you around, give you the grand tour, I want to do it when there's no threat of geth killing us. That, and I'll be learning quite alot myself. After all, this'll be the first time in three hundred years that anyone quarian has set foot on Rannoch. It'll be like stepping onto an alien world."

"All the more exciting," he hugged her tighter, placing his chin ontop of her hood, humming slightly. They just stayed there for a moment, letting each other be enveloped in the others' embrace. Soon, they would set foot on Rannoch, the first to do in three centuries, and history would once again be made.

It was a habit Marcus was beginning to get used to, and he liked it.

He cured the genophage.

And he  _would_ take Rannoch back.

But first, an admiral in distress that needed saving.

**{Loading...}**

_July 8, 2186_

_1432 hours._

_Troop Bay, UT-47A Kodiak Combat Shuttle, Pava'pa'ke Falls, Former Country of Annigeh, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Operation: Last Full Measure._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Legion, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

Amongst all the hushed chatter, the sound of the kodiak shuttle's rumbling could barely be heard, and the slight vibrations barely felt. Its passengers barely felt or heard the shuttle passing through Rannoch's atmosphere to come into the air above the vast Far'leh continent. Noone but the quarians onboard noticed, who seemed to be flooded with excitement and nervous apprehension at the thought of setting foot on their long lost homeworld. To them, it had been a mere fantasy taught to them by their parents. Now it was reality.

There was the odd bump, but nothing substantial. So far, the shuttle's passage was lest unmolested, meaning the stealth drive had worked. They had passed through the geth blockade unimpeded, and none of the geth planetary defenses or anti-air guns had tried to shoot them down. Their LADAR grid hadn't pinged whatsoever; their shuttle was simply a ghost. As far as the geth were concerned, there was no rescue mission even happening.

They were in for a big surprise.

Kal and Madi looked to be holding onto each other tightly in the corner, both of the hardened warriors now overcome with the intense thump of their heartbeats that signalled an end to their exile. The quarian people, even if it were only three of them, were finally coming home. To their  _true_ home.

Garrus and Keeling were completely silent. The former was standing up, wearing full combat gear, sans helmet. In his getup, the turian was an impressive sight, wearing at least two full bandoliers laden with thermal clips and grenades, and armor thick enough to stop a hail of bullets. No doubt his kinetic barriers were just as substantial, and the color scheme only added to his flair; a mixture of red and black webs intermixed with each other to create art in armoured form. On the turian's back was a pair of thrusters, and beneath them was Garrus' favoured Reaper sniper rifle, a relic from the days of the Eden Prime War, and his Mattock heavy rifle.

Keeling was wearing her standard N7 armor, and unlike Garrus, wore her helmet, but with the breather slotted back. Her eyes were fixed solely on the hatch infront of her, although she did occassionally respond to Garrus' attempts at conversation. But her responses were always clipped and measured; not exactly someone you want to have an engaging, lengthy discussion with. Her ginger hair was tied back inside her helmet, leaving only her fair complexion and steely, cold eyes. One hand held onto one of hand railings on the ceiling, as was one of Garrus', while her Valkyrie was cradled in her other hand.

Legion just stood still at the back of the shuttle, its trademark Widow Rifle on its back, as well as a Vindicator battle rifle. Its Widow rifle wasn't the exact same one it had used during its time on the Normandy, as that had been taken away by Legion's geth compatriots, but it was the same design; same power, same ammo, same everything. And Legion sure did love his Widow. His geth pulse rifle was irreplacable, unfortunately, as the only one the Normandy had was the one Marcus had taken on the super-dread, so it had taken a Vindicator instead. "Inefficient," Legion had called it, "But suitable for our needs." Marcus had only chuckled.

Marcus turned to Garrus, leaning back as he crossed his arms over his own armoured chest, "So Garrus, where did you get the new armor? Don't recall seeing it in our armoury before."

Garrus turned to Marcus and a grin quickly cracked across his mandibles, the turian looking very impressed with his armor, "That's because it's custom-built. The template is an armor prototype the Hierarchy was working on before the Reapers hit Palaven and was under construction by our military contractor. State-of-the-art systems, and a very impressive array of technology. Very similiar to your Terminus Assault Armor, but better. I also took it upon myself to give it a custom paintjob and add a few...improvements of my own."

"What's it called?" Marcus asked, nodding in appreciation.

"Acabus Nelarus Acui'qui," Garrus elaborated, "In your language, it means Brute Force Alternative. It was supposed to be mass produced and come into service this year for use in the Blackwatch. However, a select few reached Spectre requisitions on the Citadel before Palaven came under attack. It took a little convincing, but once I said I was Garrus Vakarian and I was with you, he offered me two at the drop of the hat; for modesty's sake, I took the one. Cost me three million credits. That's a tenth the original price."

"What does it exactly do?" Marcus asked, getting even more curious.

"Glad you asked," Garrus gleamed, "It comes with a built-in EMP emitter. If I found myself surrounded, all I need to do is activate it and the EMP will disable all electronics in a short radius; very handy against geth. Before you ask, it would normally affect me as well, but the armor's kinetic barriers are designed with an extra layer of electronic shielding, making me not only immune to my own EMP attack, but also to others. Even an overload attack won't take me down. It also has tech armor emitters, and the coolest bit: a portable turret."

Marcus nodded, already pretty jealous of the turian's new toys, "But didn't you say you custom built some of it? Added your improvements?"

"Well, most of it was a custom paintjob, but I decided this armor needed one more thing to make it even better," he turned his back to the spectre, the thrusters on his back becoming visible, "Managed to get my hands on those propulsion packs Cerberus used from C-Sec. Bailey was having their bodies tossed into an incinerator, but had their armor confiscated so that the UGC could experiment on it. Most of the technology self-detonated, but the thruster packs were left intact. Managed to grab myself a pair, reverse-engineer them and use them for my armor. Now I have my very own jetpack."

"Very nice," Marcus whistled, nodding with an ever growing grin, "I need myself one of those."

"Look but don't touch. This armor is mine," Garrus declared.

"Any other systems on it?" Keeling finally spoke, having turned to the turian. Garrus, for the most part, was extremely surprised by the sudden change in mood, but welcomed it alot. At least she wasn't unsocialable anymore.

"Well, now that you mention it, there are smaller, less important operations going on inside this baby..." Garrus' voice soon trailed off as Marcus turned to Tali, wrapping one strong arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. She quickly placed her head on his shoulder, sighing happily. It wasn't the most comfortable position, as said shoulder was now protected by several inches of metal plating, but it was still something.

"I'm okay," she spoke first, getting in for he did so, "Really. I'm just nervous."

"I wasn't going to ask," he responded, smiling while chuckling alittle.  _We know each other so well now that we can accurately predict what the other is going to say before we say it. That, or she's really could at picking up on my cues._ Instead, there was one question he needed to ask. One he hadn't bothered asking before, as he had been so happy at seeing Tali again that he failed to notice a certain someone was missing.

"So how's your mother?" he suddenly blurted out, eyes furrowed in worry, "I haven't seen her at all during the course of this war. Is she okay?"  _Please don't tell me she was killed in the initial fighting. Please don't tell me she was on one of the those two thousand ships..._

Tali sighed, but this one wasn't happy, it was full of equal worry, "I don't know, Marcus. She was there for me initially, but ever since I got command of the Machina, and especially when I became Admiral, I haven't seen her. She was given her own command, although she didn't tell me what it was or where I could find her. I haven't been in contact with her since."

"It's a large Fleet," Marcus assuaged, although the premise worried him slightly as well, "She could be on any one of those ships."

"She could at least contact me!" she almost exclaimed, trying to keep her voice down, "At least let me know where she was and whether she's alive or not! I haven't gotten anything! Not so much as a word! What annoys me the most Marcus, is that she wasn't with me in her supposed death. When I first found out she was the Shadow Broker, I thought I'd finally be able to properly be with my mother as a grown woman. Now...she might as well be dead all over again."

"Don't say that," he pulled her closer, pushing the edge of his face against the top of her hood, the soft clothing pressing into his cheek as he closed his eyes, "You don't mean that. She's your mother."

"I know," Tali hurriedly shot out, and he opened his eyes to see her sighing heavily, grabbing onto him more tightly, "I just hate this. Not knowing if she's dead or not. I mean, keelah, what if she was on one of those ships that was destroyed in the initial assault? She could be dead and I wouldn't even know it, Marcus! Keelah, I  _hate_ not knowing."

_I hate not knowing whether or not Anderson is dead or not. I hate not knowing whether or not the resistance on Earth is holding. I hate not knowing where Cerberus is going to strike next. I hate not knowing where the damn Catalyst is and I hate not knowing if the Crucible is even going to work! I hate all of it!_

"It's okay. She's okay, I'm sure of it. You just need to find her," Marcus said assuredly, rubbing her shoulders soothingly, "It'll be alright."

"Yeah," she said, trailing off. She seemed distant, as if something else was running through her mind. He just let her think, and the two of them sat in each other's embrace, holding each other as the kodiak continued across Rannoch's plains. The quarian homeworld.  _My wife's homeworld. It just occurred to me that Keeling and I will be the first humans to have looked upon Rannoch, and now we're going to be taking our first steps on it. Funny that._

After a while, Tali spoke again, this time with a question of her own, "Where's Lia? I haven't seen her on the Normandy."

He smiled at the thought of the quarian pilgrim, shifting his head slightly, "Lia? I ran into her on the Citadel. She's the head administrator of Huerta Memorial Hospital now. She's helping all the wounded there. And she's got herself a...boyfriend. You won't guess who it is."

Tali perked up at that, frowning behind her mask, "I always thought she had a crush on Garrus." She whispered these words, as the two of them were aware of the current void in Garrus and Kasumi's relationship, and didn't really want to intrude on it.

"So did I, but apparently she's moved on from that," Tali pulled out from under him and looked him in the eyes, and he only grinned, "Thane's son. Kolyat."

He saw her eyes widen behind his mask, " _Kolyat and Lia?_ Really? I...they are the last people I expected to get together. When did  _that_ happen?"

"Apparently its been going for awhile. All I know is that they were already together when I bumped into them," he replied, shaking his head, "I think even Thane was a tad surprised. Disappointed? Definitely not. I'm happy Lia and Kolyat found each other. In this war, we all need someone to hold us through it all."

"You're right about that," Tali sunk back into his embrace, letting his arms wrap around her once more. They were cold to the touch, and hard, but it was his presence that brought peace to her, not the actual contact, "Ancestors know I would've fallen apart already if it weren't for you."

"Speak for yourself," he remarked, smirking from ear to ear, "I was the absolute aura of calm."

"Uh-huh," the quarian replied, poking him in the face with a single finger, "I happen to know when you're lying, Marcus."

"Oh really, Mrs. Shepard?" he twisted in his seat to face her, raising an eyebrow, "And how did you acquire this magical power?"

"Don't need powers to see through you," she jested, leaning back as she crossed her arms, looking thoroughly pleased with herself, "You're just transparent."

"Ouch," he spat back, turning back around as he pretended to be wounded by cupping his chest, "You wound me, Tali."

"Owwwww," Tali said sarcastically, the fakery of her sympathy evident among the whole shuttle, "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

"That would be nice," he shot back.

"Well you're out of luck, mister. You'll just have to suck it up until after the mission," she then turned back to him with a solid wink, "And then I'll do more than just kiss you."

He was about to bite back with another one of his riotous remarks until Cortez spoke out from the cockpit.

"As thick as the bulkhead is behind me," the pilot began, practically shouting to be heard, "I can still hear every word you say. My advice? Get a damn room, both of you."

"That's what I've been telling them since the super-dreadnought!" Garrus added in answer, shaking his head as he braced himself against said bulkhead, a slight inertia bump causing him to lose his balance for a second, "But they don't listen, either of them."

"Because its none of your damn business, Vakarian," Tali remarked.

"No need to be so snappy,  _Shepard_ ," Garrus grinned.

"Whatever you say,  _Garbear_."

Garrus groaned almost immediately, "That's getting old now and you know it."

"Is it?" Tali turned to Marcus with a obvious amusement in her gestures, "Marcus seems to think its funny."

Garrus turned to regard Marcus, who looked to be hiding his face as it scrunched up in laughter, unable to contain himself as the mention of Kasumi's pet name provided no foreseeable end of amusement to him, "Marcus always has been old style."

"You're just embarassed, Garrus," Tali shot back, chortling a bit herself as she stifled her own chuckle, "Its okay, we all get nicknames. Marcus gets Shep, I get fishbowl, and you're Garbear."

"We're coming up on the crash site now," Cortez interrupted, breaking the banter in an instant as everyone was instantly up on their feet, "I can't see much from here, but there doesn't look to be a whole lot of life. I don't even see any geth dropships."

"Copy that Cortez," Marcus replied, standing up as he quickly positioned his helmet over his head and latched it into place with a hiss of air. Following this action, the spectre then equipped his pulse rifle, the group watching as it collapsed into its main form with a mechanical whir and growl, the barrel extending out when the main activation had occurred. He then quickly approached the hatch, now in complete business mode.

_We get down there, acertain whether or not Koris is alive, and if he is, rescue him and exfil. If any of his crew survived...we'll get them out too. Somehow._

Tali followed up behind him, her new combat suit actually befitting her stature as an admiral. She equipped her shotgun in an instant, arriving on the spectre's left while Garrus stood on his right. Keeling, Kal, Madi and Legion followed up behind, equipping their own primary weapon.

"Telemetry of the area recorded by geth surveyors shows many mountainous regions within this area," Legion reported, bringing its Widow up and over its shoulder into its hands, the group watching it fold out into its full form; when fully extended, it was quite a lengthy sniper rifle, which served only as a testament to its sheer power, "This unit would advise the Shepard-Commander to expect rock formations and waterfalls. It is also currently Thirty Hundred Hours in the Southern Hemisphere, which would lead us to conclude that Rannoch is now currently within its night cycle."

"Thirty Hundred Hours?" Keeling exclaimed, clearly surprised by the numbers, "How long are the day cycles on Rannoch?"

"Each day on Rannoch lasts about 32.3 Earth hours, and the planet has an orbital period of 0.64 Earth Years," the geth elaborated, not hesitating for a section to provide the information provided, "Rannoch has a significantly slower rotation speed than that of Earth."

"So we'll be moving under the cover of night," Keeling summed up instantly, focusing her sight ahead as she tinted her visor, "Good. We'll be able to move much more quietly."

"Agreed," Marcus agreed, almost robotically, "This'll give us an edge, although knowing the geth, it won't matter; they'll likely have thermal vision equipped within their optics. Regardless, keep as quiet as possible when moving. We'll check the escape pods, and then if noone's here, we'll look for clues as to where they went and go based off that. Remember, we're here for Admiral Koris. His crew are a secondary priority. But if you see an opportunity to rescue them, do not hesitate. Enough quarians have died in this pointless war already."

"Acknowledged," Legion stated.

The rest of the group showed their own agreement, "Copy that," everyone else replied.

"We're above the crash site now. Still can't see much," Cortez announced, "Although I can definitely see some of the escape pods. Again, no geth activity to be seen. I think we've got the jump on them."

"Bring us in for a drop," Marcus ordered, quickly opening the hatch, "Legion, Garrus, you drop down first. Locate vantage points and utilize them. You two are our advanced guard; you see anything, you tell us. Don't let the geth get the jump on us. If you see any clues along the way that may tell us where Koris and his crew went, you inform us immediately. Move it."

"Got you, Marcus," Garrus then pushed past and leapt out, relying on his thrusters to slow his descent. Legion simply leapt out. Being a machine, it had built-in shock absorbers that would allow it to survive the drop unharmed. Although, to be fair, Legion's entrance would telegraph their presence alot more loudly than Garrus'. However, beggars couldn't be choosers. Marcus knew they were likely to run into geth forces eventually anyway.

_That's just our luck. No matter what we do, we always end up fighting something._

"We're on the ground," Garrus reported as the kodiak began its slow descent, its mass effect fields pulsating as it moved closer to the ground, its ability to keep several tons worth of vehicle from plummeting beyond impressive, "Moving into position now. Legion got there before I did, though. Very loud entrance, but very stylish."

"You always were about style, weren't you Garrus?" Marcus equipped, smiling behind his helmet. They were almost close enough for a jump. The shuttle was so close to the ground now that the deployment jets were sending plumes of dust and rocks kicking in every direction, like a thick fog spreading out.

"Well, you know me. Always looking to impress the ladies. They love scars, remember?" by the time he had replied, the sound of the ground being disturbed could be heard, followed by a loud grunt, and the sound of a gun being placed on the ground was heard, "Position reached. How about you, Legion?"

"Position has been reached and sustained, Vakarian-Archangel," the geth replied on prompt, "Area remains undisturbed. No geth activity detected."

The shuttle finally reached the ground, the plumes of dust ceasing to spread as the jets were smothered by the lack of air as the shuttle completed its landing, allowing its occupants out. Raising his rifle, Marcus immediately moved at a fast jog into the clearing, rifle butt against his shoulder as he kept any eye out for any hostiles Legion and Garrus may have missed. Tali and Keeling were right behind him, followed by Kal and Madi, all five of them moving in textbook patrol formation, ready for any ambush.

Marcus, seeing the clearing was generally clear, quickly reached to his radio and pinged their pilot, "Cortez, shut down the shuttle's engines and hold here. If you come under attack, you bolt, okay? Don't wait around for us. But right now I think it would save fuel if you just held position."

Cortez was quick to agree, "Copy that, Shepard, I'll just stay here. I've got a few books to read anyway."

Marcus just smiled, "Enjoy. We shouldn't be too long." Shortly after, he disconnected the radio, and turned back to the clearing, analyzing the area as he did. It was as Legion had put it; collections of rocks, many of them boulders wedged or molded together, served as the natural walls for the clearing, dust and stones serving as the floor. The odd plant would poke out from inbetween the crevices of the rocks, an example of the life Rannoch sported.

The lack of sun was immediately noted by Marcus. As he looked up, he noted just how beautiful the night sky was on Rannoch. Stars dotted the sky like little blimps of light, shining in the blank black of the atmosphere. They shined brilliantly, and Marcus wondered just how many of those stars out there were part of systems under Reaper control.

_Which one of those planets is Earth? Hell, I could probably see Khar'Shan if I looked hard enough._

The night sky had always fascinated Marcus; how it was just a blank, dark ocean of stars, each one representing a faraway planet or star. How the sun would disappear when it was time for night to have its time. How the stars themselves provided their own light.

In the night sky, all four of Rannoch's moons were illuminated perfectly. One of them dominated the night, its large bulbous form easily making it larger than Earth's Luna. The second one was only slightly smaller, and the third smaller still. The fourth one was almost a spec for how small it was, being easily half the size of Luna. Overall, combined with all four moons and the sparkling stars, Rannoch's night sky was beautiful. Marcus found himself entranced by it, almost unable to take his eyes off of it.

Eventually, he noted that dark shapes were moving through the dark, cold air, and eventually realized that it must have been somekind of Rannochian bird. It was an odd looking thing; six wings jutting out from a central body, and a darker looking main torso. He couldn't see many of the features on it due to the darkness; all he knew is that it was very similiar looking to a deformed Earth pterodactyl.

He looked back down, and the landscape to him wasn't nearly as interesting. It reminded him somewhat of a desert; rocks, dust and more dust. Odd looking plants poked up from the yellow dust, and there was even a tree standing in the corner. However, the tree itself was long dead, bark and dried up leaves lying all around it, its naked branches stretching out into the sky with nothing to occupy them. The tree was also leaning slightly to the side, a rock jutting out from under it, having formed in the wrong place.

What immediately stood out was the massive escape pod jutting out from the ground. It had clearly hit the rocks, as the front had almost completely caved in on itself, and one side had been scratched so badly that you could actually see inside it. Black scorch marks coated it from the front to the middle, hinting that there may have been a fire raging around it before. A small, average-sized crater centered around where it had impacted, the barren ground having been the result of the dust and rocks that had been displaced by the unplanned landing.

It was also the only escape pod in the clearing.  _They could be spread out all over the area. All over the hemisphere even. If that's the truth, then we might not even have the right pod._

"Check the pod. See if you can find any evidence of survivors and forced exits," Marcus ordered, advancing on the pod himself. He waited for an answer, but after a few moments, when he still hadn't received one, he stopped, and turned, lowering his rifle slightly, "Did you hear me-?"

When he still hadn't gotten a response, he ceased all movement, lowering his rifle as he turned around. The sight he was treated to was his wife, Kal and Madi standing still several meters behind him.

Despite the situation, Marcus couldn't help but completely lower his rifle, a small sigh escaping his lips, before they then curled back into a warm, slight smile. He watched as Kal kneeled down, scooping up a palm of dust into his hand and letting it filter through his fingers back onto the ground in a steady fall of yellow. Madi let her hands glide over the rugged, but smooth, surfaces of the rocks surrounding them.

And then there was Tali, who simply stood there, shotgun in one hand and hanging limply at her side, gazing up at the sky in wonder.

_They just stood on their homeworld that many of the ancestors only dreamed of revisiting. How could I think they'd treat this like any other mission?_

Slowly, he made his way over to Tali, being as quiet as possible so as to not disturb the moment for the three quarians. Kal and Madi continued to explore the small area around them, Madi moving over to the dead tree nearby while Kal followed her, dragging his toes through the dust.

He managed to reach Tali's side without causing any noise, but his wife still noticed him, her head cocking towards him as she took notice of his presence. He was going to remove his own helmet when he realized that it wouldn't be fair on Tali, and elected to leave it on. Instead, he licked his lips and cleared his throat, watching her as she looked back up at the sky.

"Is it everything you thought it would be?" Marcus asked her delicately.

She gave an optimistic sigh, closing her eyes as she just took it all in, and then let go of her breath, her filters breathing in the almost-alien-but-not-quite all at once. She didn't turn to him when she responded, simply looking around the area with wonderment and awe, as if observing the place for the first time.

"How can I describe it Marcus? I'm home," she replied, sounding bewildered and drunk, as if she didn't quite understand how she felt herself, "These rocks? Our people used to write poems about them, from what I was taught. And look at the sky! So many stars...and so many moons. I wonder, how many quarians used to live on this moons? What was our military strength? Our political structure? Our art, our music! So much of it lost...yet here I stand, in the middle of where my people once thrived. Our...our motherland."

He smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing it. She stopped gazing, only just noticing that she had been spinning in circles, and fixed her gaze firmly on him as he spoke, "Maybe your people will make more poems in the future. Maybe your people will colonize those moons, again. And who knows? Perhaps these lands will be full of children's laughter again. You just have to believe, Tali."

She sighed again, this one far more happy and cheerful, and she turned back around, as did Marcus, watching as Kal chased Madi around the circumference of the tree, Madi laughing as her husband feigned his inability to catch her, faking his ragged breaths. The two of them were happy, blissful...

_The quarians haven't had a world to call their own in three hundred years, let alone a homeworld. All this open space...it must be overwhelming..._

"I want an end to this war," Tali suddenly stated, pointing to Kal and Madi, the latter of which had finally surrendered, giggling as Kal spear-tackled her to the ground in a fit of excitement, "So we can have more moments like this."

"This war will be over soon. I don't know when, I don't know how, but soon," he swore, knowing that it was as much an oath to himself as it was to her.  _If I plan to make her a house here, then Rannoch might be my home when all this is over. That makes her home, mine. Their home. Making this just as much my fight as theirs._

_But first we must focus on this mission. Koris and his crew could be anywhere out there, and we're not going to find them just standing around here._

Before he could speak, Tali once again spoke, this time into the team's comms, "Legion, where are we exactly? What is the historical name for the place we are located in?"

The geth replied without a hitch, not even hesitating in its response, "We anticipated a question such as this to be raised, and we have arranged the appropriate records. According to the historical database we have compiled, this area is called the Pava'pa'ke Falls. We are within the continent the ancient creators referred to as the Far'leh continent, in the former nation of Annigeh. You are currently standing in the old location of a school playground."

Tali widened her eyes at the rush of information, slowly pointing to the tree in a confused state, "Wait, are you telling me that tree is...?"

"The tree you are currently looking at has lived for seven hundred and fifty-five years. Yes, Creator Tali'Shepard, it survived the First Morning War. Do you find this information sufficient?"

He could audibly hear Tali gulp, trying to process the information Legion had just dumped on her, "Yes, thank you Legion," turning off her comm, Tali looked about ready to collapse. Her legs were shaking ever so slightly, and she was shaking her head as she looked to be fighting tears.

_Yeah, definitely overwhelming._

He watched her for a solid moment, knowing what was about to come. He quickly holstered his rifle in preparation for it, and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, turning the quarian admiral around to face him.

She instantly wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head under his own as she let all her emotions spill out at once: the sadness that came from learning of the spot they stood in, the happiness and wonderment at standing on her people's ancient homeworld, and the pressure of having to rescue Koris and his crew. All of these emotions collided in a violent maelstrom of mental juxtapositioning. The quarian just let it all out, clinging tightly to his armoured form for support, and he just held her, letting her vent. One hand reached up from its position behind her back and patted her head lightly and reassuringly, whispering words of reassurance into their private comm.

They stood there for several moments, gathering themselves. Shortly after, Tali managed to stop crying, having lost all her tears at this point. They just stood there quietly, holding each other. In the background, Kal and Madi gained control of themselves, entering back into business mode as they gripped their rifles with renewed purpose.

_They've seen their homeworld now, and they're going to fight to take it back._

He caught Kal's gaze, which mutually locked with his. Judging from the way he looked at him through the mask, Marcus knew the marine understood, and he patted Madi on the shoulder, motioning for them to move over to the escape pod to check it, allowing Marcus and Tali sometime to themselves. Madi simply nodded, and the two quarians went off to investigate, leaving them to silence.

A cold breeze blew past, whipping at his armor, although he barely felt it. However, his external temperature readout read that the temperature around them was precisely five degrees celsius. The Celsius, historically known as centigrade, was a measurement of temperature since before the American Revolutionary War. Its counterparts, Fahrenheit, Rankine and Kelvin, were less popular by the turn of the 20th Century, as they were less favourable compared to the Celsius structure. Fahrenheit itself became a United States only scale, while the rest of the world used Celsius. After the formation of the UNAS in the 21st Century, Fahrenheit was dropped completely and Celsius adopted. Some Americans still use Fahrenheit, but the Systems Alliance itself, as well as the UEG, used Celsius.

As a result, his temperature scale read five degrees, making tonight a cold one. Still not as cold as it was in Canada, but pretty damn cold, all the same. He continued to stand there for a moment, the sudden breeze flowing over their two cojoined bodies, ever silent.

Eventually, Tali spoke, still on their private comm, "I'm okay now."

With slight reluctance, he parted from his wife, retrieving his rifle from his back as Tali did the same with her shotgun, the whirr of them activating left unnoticed as his focus was still on her. He could hear the odd sniffle, but any tears she had to shed were long gone; she had cried herself dry. Tali must have noticed him looking at her, because she quickly looked up, smiling behind her mask.

"I'm fine, really. It was just all...just a bit much for me. But I'm okay now. It won't affect my duties," she reassured him, gripping her shotgun more tightly, "I've seen the homeworld now; I've seen what my people are fighting for, and it's completely worth it. Promise me this, Marcus. Promise me we'll win this war. Promise me we'll win this war and spend the rest of our lives here."

He looked at her for over a second, considering her words. Then his lips spilt into a crooked grin.

"I promise," he stated with as much love and care as he could muster, "We'll take down this signal, make peace between your two peoples, finish and fire the Crucible, and then I'll build that house you wanted. Just as I'm welcome to live in it with you."

Tali merely smiled back, this one flirtatious, "Oh, you are more than welcome. Come on, we should probably get on with the mission."

Nodding in agreement, the two of them crossed the area to arrive infront of the battered escape pod, being far more damaged than they thought. Before, they had only seen the left side of it, but the right side was absolutely totalled. The exit hatch had been completely torn from its hinges, the twisted metal lying in the dust several meters away, scorched, scratched and dented. The inside of the pod was dark, its systems having died as the last of its reserve power either died or the crash damaged the power core. From the look of it, Marcus doubted that the pod's life support even functioned anymore.  _Not that they need it._

The sight that caused his shoulders slump lay right before them, with Kal kneeling before them, whispering khelish prayers and Madi standing over him, her hands outstretched as she muttered her own.

Lying on the ground, each one beside the other, three quarian bodies lay; two females, and one male. They all lay entirely still, obviously dead. Their bodies were perfectly straight, their arms crossed over their chests. The female's mask was covered by a piece of cloth, which Marcus interpreted as meaning that her mask had been shattered, and the cloth was to keep her privacy intact; after all, quarians viewed revealing their faces as a sacred trust, not something every passer by got to see.

The other two looked reasonably fine, with the male having a crack that split across the side of his mask diagonally, but did not actually destroy it. Both the male and the masked female looked to be wearing arylide yellow veils, with circles overlapping each other like scales being their pattern. It struck him as oddly coincidental, but upon further examination, he sighed slightly, coming to a realization when he saw it.

The male and the female were positioned right next to each other, their eyes closed as evidenced by the darkness behind their smoky visors; the female on the right, male in the middle. Unlike the second female though, only one arm on each of them being on their chest. The other arm moved inbetween them, ending where their two hands were placed over one another in a symbolic gesture of unity.

_Husband and wife. Unionmates. Damn it..._

It was obvious how the other female died, but Marcus was finding it hard to recognize how the other two died; neither of them had puncture marks of any note, and their masks were intact. How exactly did they die?

The other female wore an Egyptian Blue veil, this one with a generic pattern scheme; that being that it had none at all. Confirming his suspicions on the shattered mask was the slight reddish tinge to the veil just under her mask, and upon further inspection with his luminol anaylzer function in his HUD, it was confirmed to be dried blood.

"What do we have?" Marcus asked, having waited until Kal was done saying his prayers. Madi had finished as well, although the captain hadn't asked just what they had been saying. It was more than likely something Tali could explain to him later.  _Right now, I need to concentrate._

Kal sighed through his helmet, scratching his neck. He pointed to the lone female, "This one's name is Oria'Vesash vas Qwib Qwib. She died when her mask was smashed; judging by the blood, I'd say her face was impaled on somekind of object. She's been dead for at least two days. According to her records, she was one of the bridge crew."

"What about these two?" he asked, pointing to the two deceased unionmates, "They were obviously husband and wife."

"Yeah," Kal sighed heavily, looking very uncomfortable all of a sudden, "The male is Ula and the female is Vivee. They're both of clan Zelr. They...well, they both died of broken spines."

"How do you know that?" he asked, frowning at the bodies.  _There doesn't seem to be any visible signs of exactly what killed them._

Kal quickly reached over and nudged the male's head. Now, normally, there would be some resistance due to the bones in the spine holding the head upright, but with the spine now snapped, the head fell to the side almost like a heavy weight being dropped, and the male's mouthpiece actually tapped the ground; intact bones made turning their heads at such angles impossible. Which meant his bones were broken.

"Same with the female," Kal clarified as he stood.

"I see," Marcus replied, sighing as he just stood there, looking at the bodies before him. These three came so close to seeing their homeworld, and they died before they could set foot on it, or even glimpse it for themselves.  _We'll be sure to honor their memories._

"You think they died in the crash?" Tali questioned, looking at the three dead quarians with a look of distant sorrow. She seemed to be regarding them coldly, having reined in her emotions and kept them under check to make sure she suffered from no further outbursts. She didn't even look at Kal when she asked the question.

The marine nodded, tapping the side of his usurper assault rifle, "It's the only likely cause from what I've seen. If the geth wanted to kill them, they wouldn't waste time snapping their necks and shattering their masks. Even with the upgrades, the geth would still kill them from a distance; we'd them riddled with holes, yet they aren't. No blood to be found on the ground except what's on Oria's body. The only conclusion I can come to is that they were killed during the violent reentry or the impact itself did the final blow."

While Kal was explaining this, Tali had moved over, carefully stepping over the bodies and, with her shotgun in one hand, inspected the interior of the open pod. Marcus just watched her as she did, eyes creasing in worry at her disconnected actions.  _Only seconds ago she was crying in my arms. Now all of a sudden she seems totally disinterested. That, or she is sad, and has a funny way of showing it._

Two minutes passed of the three soldiers just watching her, Tali broke away from the pod, turning to them with a shake of her head, "The pod is completely empty. I've checked my omni-tool for working power sources, and there are none. Every major system has gone critical or failed, the power core isn't even registering, and it seems a course correction was done at some point during reentry, as what's left of the logs show that someone tried to course correct while entering the stratosphere and the result was the thrusters disabling themselves to stop themselves from overheating. The heat shields almost failed, and everything except the emergency food rations is still here."

"What can be said about the hatch?" Marcus asked as he walked over to said hatch, observing the piece of twisted metal. As observed before, it was scorched and dented, with scratches potmarking it from individual sparks and some of the metal's thickness had been reduced due to the heat that blew it off.

Tali was beside him fairly quickly, bringing up her omni-tool as she ran a scan of it. Two seconds later, her omni-tool pinged, and she hummed in agreement as she shut it off.

"Just as I thought. This hatch's emergency detonators were used," Tali declared.

"I thought as much. Nothing else could explain this," the spectre mused in return, kicking at the sheet of metal. It was no bigger than his torso, meaning the quarians would have had to crawl out of the pod, not walk out.

What Tali had said was true enough. All escape pods were equipped with four micro-filament detonators, which were strategically placed around the hatch. In the case of a power loss, EMP impact or the hatch simply becoming jammed, the detonators could be primed and detonated. The detonators were all interconnected through small, microscopic wires that when detonated, would send a pulse to all detonators, causing them to explode. Because of how they are placed, the explosive force is redirected along the perimeter of the hatch instead of outwards, which would more than likely kill the occupants. With the explosion redirected along the hatch's perimeter, the explosive force is then tripled and applied to the hatch. This causes a highly explosive reaction that tears the metal off, and sends the explosive energy outwards after it, instead of inside the pod. To the occupants, this all happens in a split second, and is accompanied by nothing but an ear-piercing bang (the equivalent of a gun going off next to your ear) and and a puff of smoke.

And what a force it was. The hatch had been thrown more than just several meters; it had been tossed a full twelve meters across the clearing, and a massive sweeping imprint was left that showed the hatch had hit the ground and skidded for a couple more meters before halting all motion. All four corners looked like someone had taken a bite out of them (which made sense, as the four detonators were placed on each corner, and would be the most damaged areas when the detonation occurred).

"So that only leaves one question," Kal asked, echoing the thoughts of the rest of them, "Where are the crew and Koris? This is his escape pod. I've checked the registry of the pod, and given the identity of the three people we just found, it all proves that this pod was linked to the bridge. Koris was on it."

Marcus nodded, turning back around as he commed Garrus and Legion both, wanting answers, "Speak up, you two. I need a report."

"Nothing on my side, Marcus," Garrus replied almost instantly, the sound of the wind easily heard over the comms, "Although I've had to activate my auto-targetting. Its damn near impossible to account for wind speed on this planet, given the slightly heavier gravity. But from what I've been able to see, its been...dead quiet. Not a single movement except for the odd native animal. Birds, these Shatha looking things, you name it. Its almost scary how quiet it is."

"He's right," Madi picked up, gripping her rifle intensely, "I can't even hear any dropships. You'd think a crash like this would have drawn some attention."

"We have no enemy contacts to report, Shepard-Commander," Legion replied in turn, "The current vicinity appears to not be occupied by geth forces."

"None of this is right," Garrus pointed out, "The geth wouldn't be able to ignore this. Yet again, it has been two days. Do you think the geth have already killed Koris and his crew and they've just left?"

"It's entirely possible," Kal pointed out, sighing heavily, squaring his shoulders simultaneously, "But I guess we won't know definitively until we find bodies."

Marcus nodded with a grim expression. It was highly likely that Garrus was right; two days was a long time to be stranded on an enemy-controlled planet. Chances were that Koris and his crew were already dead. That they-

"Hold up," Madi suddenly blurted out, drawing the attentions of the whole group. The quarian marine quickly rushed up to a particular section of the clearing, where she proceeded to crouch down in the sand, one finger tracing along it.

At first, all of them but Marcus saw it. The night sky had fallen, and even with the moonlight from four satellites, it didn't provide enough light for him to see. Quarians, however, were nocturnal in nature, their eyes providing somekind of nocturnal ability that allowed them to see at night. Because of this, Tali and Kal's eyes immediately widened at what they saw, while Marcus had to bring up the flashlight on his rifle to see it.

And only then did he see it.

Footprints. In the sand. While differing from a human's, the indent was unmistakable; three-toed feet that made up the majority of the foot, with almost no sole to speak of. Three-toes that dominated most of the quarian foot. Who they belonged to was of no doubt. There had been a quarian here. And as the group looked, more imprint lines appeared.

Not just one quarian. Multiple.

At least twelve seperate lines of footprints were in the sand, with some overlapping each other.

"Garrus, what do you make of this?" Marcus queried, sending a picture of the aforementioned footprint trails. Maybe their resident turian, who was an ex-police detective, and a damn good one, could figure out what this meant.

"Just give a sec," the turian replied, clearly bringing up his omni-tool. It took several seconds for the turian to do this and look at the samples, a concerned sound in his tone as he replied, "The overlapping tracks mean they walked over other people's tracks. Although some of them are spaced out and appear to be deeper than the others, so its a good bet some of them were running. But look at the one to the far right; I think that one was wounded."

"What makes you say that?" Marcus asked, eying the one Garrus had pointed to. There didn't seem to be anything special about that particular set of tracks.

"Well, on that trail, only the right foot seems to be remaining consistent. The left seems to step properly once, but plants itself deep, while the second time it seems to drag across the ground slightly, and usually not in tandem with the right. This means two things; this person was walking and was limping."

"So we've got a potentially injured quarian with a suit breach or, hopefully, just a broken leg. Got it," Marcus affirmed. So they had twelve quarians alive and on the run, with one that was injured, "But is there anything that can tell else where they went?"

"I'm a detective Marcus, not a wizard," Garrus replied dryly but regretfully, "Only thing I can say is that you follow the tracks. They might just lead you to them...or their bodies."

"Very well. We'll go with that plan," Marcus ordered, bringing up his rifle and checking to see that safety was off. But given that geth pulse rifles didn't have safeties, he needn't have bothered, and simply shouldered it, ready to move, "Garrus, you provide overwatch. Keep moving along the rocks but keep us in view. I need you to provide covering fire in case the geth finally decide to rear their flashlight heads. How copy?"

"Solid," the turian stated in reply, the sound of him standing up easily heard. Marcus didn't miss the tap, tap, tap of padded, armoured feet clanging against rock either, "I'll provide overwatch to the best of my ability. Switching to NV. Going to maintain radio silence so as to not give away my position."

Marcus quickly switched over to their geth comrade, "Legion, I want you to keep a tab on any geth transmissions you hear. If you so much as hear a mention of us, you ping Garrus then me, got it? I need to know the geth are coming before they get here."

"Acknowledged Shepard-Commander. In the meantime, we will provide overwatch in our sector," the geth replied.

With a sharp nod, he switched to his squad's comms, giving a nod to the group, "Tali, with me. Kal, Madi, bring up the rear. Let's see where these tracks lead us."

And off they went, looking for a man who could potentially save the quarian race simply by living.

The Rannochian breeze was cold and unforgiving, but so was the premise of failure.

_**A/N:** _

_**At this point, I'm thinking of renaming the story to 'Consortium of Multi-Part Chapters.' Seriously, almost every single important chapter is now in multiple parts. Rest assured, this will be a two-parter, but I never intended for it to be multi-part to begin with! Seriously, this is the price of my enthusiasm!** _

_**Anyway, you guys probably noticed some references or didn't. So let me point 'em out for those who didn't.** _

_**1\. There was a reference to Full-Paragon's 'Keelah Se'lai' series. Its not so much a reference as almost a blatant rip-off, but hey, sue me. For those who didn't guess it, it was the 'Regrets' that Xen mentioned it early on in the chapter. Regrets was a concept derived by Full-Paragon (so I assume. It may also be a borrowed concept, but I'm not sure). It basically is a label for a quarian who can be effectively named a geth apologist and shows 'regret' for what they did to them, hence the name. In 'Keelah Se'lai,' I believe Lia'Vael was a Regret, as was Zaal'Koris. The concept is the same here.** _

_**2\. Many may not have noticed, but 'Last Full Measure' is in reference to the Gettysburg Address. It was said by Abraham Lincoln when he visited Cemetry Ridge just after George Meade's defeat of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. For those who don't get why this is referenced, then here's why; it was referenced because Abraham Lincoln was a leader of his people during a time of civil war. Koris, in many ways, is the leader of his people, and his death could CAUSE a civil war. Hence the name.** _

_**3\. This one is by far less obvious than any other, because you'll only get it if you study Ancient History; largely post-Ancient Egypt and Alexander the Great but pre-Hannibal Barca. The title of the chapter, "Pyrrhus of Koris" references "Pyrrhus of Epirus," who was a Greek general who attempted an invasion of Rome at one point or another. He's largely famous for establishing the term "pyrrhic victory," which is a victory that is won at a terrible cost and, in more brutal cases, totally unworth the cost of victory. As Pyrrhus said, "One more victory against the Romans, and I shall be undone." Why is this referenced? Because...well, that's spoilers. Let's just say it'll involve a victory won at terrible cost...** _

_**And now my loyal readers, time for some shameless self-promotion. Come check out PressAForStupidity on YouTube when you get the chance! We're a group of gamers (mostly) who (once fully up and running) will post walkthroughs, let's plays and other awesome content! We're also currently making a short-film called the Reaper, who's script I'm writing and is the reason these chapters are taking longer than usual to get out. So there's that too! Come subscribe when you get the chance!** _

_**What's that, you don't want to? YOU HAVE NO CHOICE! SUBSCRIBE!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	45. Pyrrhus of Koris, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koris sacrifices what he loves to save the Migrant Fleet.

**HOLOCAUST:**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:**

**PYRRHUS OF KORIS PART TWO**

_July 8, 2186_

_1452 hours._

_Pava'pa'ke Falls, Former Country of Annigeh, Far'leh Continent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Operation: Last Full Measure._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Legion, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

As peaceful as the Pava'pa'ke Falls were now, it was becoming increasingly clear that over the past two days, that wasn't always the case.

Garrus and Legion provided overwatch just as he ordered. Occassionally, as Marcus and his squad moved through the small, narrow pathways, he had seen bits of rock and dust cascade from above to land below, and everytime he looked up, he saw either the black chasis of Legion or the red striped armor of Garrus as they leapt past, constantly on the move.

The pathways they had been moving through were largely narrow and centered, with not much else to define them. Large croppings of rocks bound together tightly defined the walls around them, with mostly dust and the odd plant covering the ground. Overall, it wasn't anything very remarkable.

Things got interesting however when they rounded the next corner.

The first thing he noticed as he moved his flashlight over the dusty vicinity was the slight tinge of red. It was barely noticable at first, but the more he focused on it, the more he was able to take note of it. The tinge itself covered a wide area, at least over a meter, both in length and width. There was no mistaking what it was.  _They came through here._

As he looked up, he noticed the footprints moving through the dust, confirming his suspicion. But just as the trail continued, it also abruptly stopped. The trail seem to become hectic after that; they went out in multiple directions, like they were taking defensive positions or something. Marcus, getting curious continued to step closer, bringing his rifle higher as he kept his eyes down range, and that's when he saw it.

Bullet holes. They raked the side of the rocks, scarring their surfaces. He also noticed what looked to be scorch marks. From flamethrowers or plasma, he didn't know, but it did confirm one thing; Koris and his crew had been engaged by geth forces in this area.

Only question was, did they survive the encounter?

He took the initial lack of bodies in his proximity as a good sign; it means they hadn't gotten bunkered down. From the looks of it, the quarians had even returned fire; what looked to be an ejected thermal clip poked out of the dust, dim from the lack of radiating heat within it, and with half of its size covered in dust that must have blown over it from the time that passed. And has he brought his flashlight over more of the surrounding area, even more spent thermal clips could be seen.

"Evidence of a skirmish here," Marcus noted, motioning to his discovery, "We've got some blood, bullet holes, scorch marks and spent thermal clips, but no bodies. My guess is that they ran into a geth patrol and took them out; that, or they were killed, and the geth moved the bodies."

"It is more likely that the creators survived the geth attack, Shepard-Commander," Legion replied over the comm, a slight scuffle heard as it corrected its footing, "Your assumption would be correct given the appropriate circumstances before this predicament. But with the geth corrupted by the Old Machine signal, it is unlikely the geth would initiate the delicacy or care needed to move the bodies. It is more likely they would leave any fallen creators to enter natural organic decomposition."

"How is that even possible?" Madi asked, confused as she tried to rack her brain for an explanation. Her rifle was still held firmly in her grip, but she had lowered it slightly, cocking her head in mental observation as she kicked absentmindedly at one of the clips on the ground, "I thought the signal increased the geth's combat capability; it not only made them more tactically efficient, but it also meant they were more effective fighters. How could Koris' crew, who are not even trained in combat, fight them off? It doesn't make sense."

"The geth aren't invincible, even with the signal, Madi," Kal consoled, "And given how narrow this area is, it's likely Koris and his men lured the geth into a chokepoint and gunned them down. Its also likely they didn't even kill the geth forces; they have simply withdrawn. We haven't seen any geth bodies either."

"That also explains why the tracks abruptly stop," Marcus noted, pointing to where the tracks appear to intersect, "There's nothing to indicate where they went. We go based on the assumption that Kal is right; Koris and his men withdrew. They didn't go forward, but they didn't go back. They climbed the rocks, maybe?"

Marcus watched as Tali moved forward, shotgun at the ready as she took a peek around the nearest corner, which leaned off to the right. He kept watching even as Madi responded.

"Its possible. Our people are good climbers," she said almost proudly, "Although if its that the case, I don't know where they could have-"

Tali turned the corner, her shotgun raised. But whatever she saw, caused her her position to relax slightly, and her weapon to lower.

"Keelah," Tali almost muttered, only audible enough to be heard over the radio, cutting off Madi mid sentence. She then turned to the group, eyes landing on Marcus specifically, "I think I've found your answer."

Marcus, glancing at Kal and Madi, jogged over to Tali's position, making sure his pulse rifle remained raised. If they were ambushed by geth forces, they needed to be ready. But when he rounded the corner, even he had to lower his weapon, taken by surprise and shock by what he saw. Even Madi gasped, and Kal just grunted in appreciation, Marcus imagining a small grin forming on his face.

Bodies. The next pathway was absolutely littered with them, but most of them were geth, to their surprise. Leaning against a rock on their left was the unmistakable form of a geth shock trooper, its chest looking to have been split open by a high-penetration shell; likely that of a close-proximity shotgun. White liquid coated the top of the right, but all of it had crystallized by this point, forming a shiny cloak over the top of the otherwise grey surface.

A small crater lay in the dust, clearing from a grenade explosion. The legless body of a standard geth trooper lay optics-first in the dust, similiarly coated in its own 'blood'. Another trooper was on the right side of the crater, jammed inbetween the rocks with its arms splayed outwards like a crucified executionee. Its optics were dark, one half cracked from immense pressure, and the front of its chest had caved in, crushing the circuits and machinery hidden behind it. Its pulse rifle lay on the ground beneath it, the casing cracked and soldered from the blast that killed its owner.

Finally, one final geth body lay on its back, probably the least devastated of the four dead geth. Again, it was just another standard trooper, its left hand still clasped firmly around the trigger of its pulse rifle, which now rested ontop of its chest. Three puncture wounds could be found; one had punched through its upper leg joint, likely severing the servos that kept that leg operating, while a second torn up some cabling in its left arm. The third seemed to be the killer blow, striking through its neck and blowing out the other side, eviscerating everything in its path. It sat in a dried puddle of white, probably the messiest of the four.

Frowning, Marcus moved towards the fourth geth trooper and closed the distance instantly, nudging the body with his foot to make sure it really was dead; he had seen geth suffer much worse than this during the Eden Prime War and still survive. Hell, Legion had a massive hole through its chest, and it operated fine.

Luckily for them, the trooper did not flinch, and there wasn't the familiar synthetic click or hiss of it communicating, meaning it truly was dead. Finally, he was able to address what he noted; that the puncture holes were alot bigger than he thought they would be; the weapon that took it down was alot more powerful than a standard predator pistol. More like a...

"This geth was taken down with a Carnifex," Marcus noted, turning to the quarian trio, who were examining the geth bodies behind him with equal interest, "The entry wounds are too big for a normal predator, and it certainly packed alot of punch. Assault rifles would be more sporadic, shotguns would have a widespread and leave more damage, and I doubt they'd use a sniper rifle in such close quarters, not that they'd have access to one. They don't have access to high-grade tech, so it couldn't be a Paladin or a Phalanx. Carnifex seems to be the most likely candidate."

"This crater was created by a fragmentation grenade," Kal noted, scanning with his omni-tool as he stood, his rifle temporarily magnetized to his hip, "Explosion residue is consistent, and the blast size accomodates. Gathering from how these geth are positioned, they were taken by surprise."

Marcus nodded, "I came to the same conclusion."  _It makes no sense otherwise. If these geth were the ambushers, why did the quarians gain the upper hand? Even in a chokepoint, these geth have upgrades; four of them are more than a match for a quarian bridge crew, especially one without combat experience. Yet this trooper looks like it barely raised its weapon, the two destroyed by the grenade are angled facing it, and the shock trooper looks to have been walking towards the rock; if it had been killed while ambushing the quarians, it would be on its back, not slumped over a rock._

_What if the geth were the ones ambushed?_

Marcus turned around, looking for any clues that might lead them to where the quarians had gone and how they managed to get the jump on the geth. He kept looking up until his eyes landed on one thing; footprints.

"Found them," Marcus immediately announced, and within moments, Kal, Madi and Tali were by his side, looking to where he motioned.

"They start again here, but not behind us?" Kal asked, motioning to the alley where the did geth were, "That doesn't make much sense."

"Perhaps a bit of wind was kicked up during the fight and hid them?" Madi queried, "Anything is possible."

"It doesn't matter," Marcus immediately interrupted, nodding to the trail, "We've got them again, so we should keep moving."

"Keelah, it's been two days," Kal skeptically added, quickly reequipping his rifle, "They could be anywhere by now."

"We can't just abandon them, Kal. Remember, if we lose Koris..." Tali trailed off.

"I know, ma'am...Tali," he stated, quickly correcting himself near the end, "Just getting a bit...skeptical. I doubt these geth were the last, and I doubt even more that this little skirmish went unnoticed. After all, geth are software. When they die, they just upload themselves to the consensus. Which means..."

Marcus eyes widened, and he was suddenly moving forward alot more aggressively, "They'll warn the rest of the geth of the quarian presence on the planet. Which would result in reinforcements being sent. Come on, we better double time it."

They continued move along, the four of them moving into a diamond shaped formation as they pressed on ahead. No sound could be heard as they continued except for the chirping of birds over ahead, the eery sound of wind blowing, trees rustling, and the odd howl of an animal in the distance. It was Rannoch in all its undisturbed natural quality.

 _This planet and its inhabitants haven't known a sentient/sapient species for three centuries. Quarians today would be like invaders from another world to them._ The thought had an ironic quality to it, despite their situation.

They were about to round yet another corner when they heard a rustle from a nearby cluster of plants. Like well-timed and practiced actors, they all turned in sync, weapons turning to assess the possible threat. But it was the single flashlight that did it.

Screeching angrily, a round, reptilian like creature burst from the plant cluster, disturbed from its sleep. At first glance, it looked like a miniture armadillo, but this animal had a semi-spherical armoured shell, like that of a turtle, and infront of that was a smaller circle, this one equally as armoured looking, with six, black beady eyes, razor-sharp teeth capable of slicing through bone, and four paws with claws just as sharp. It skimpered off with speed that belied its appearance; vanishing into a much denser cluster. To keep from angering it further, not knowing what it was capable of, he kept his flashlight away from it, instead turning back to the corner they were about to turn into.

_From the amount of Rannochian wildlife I've run into, I could fund my own section in Galactic Wildlife Collective magazine._

Continuing to move despite their disruption, he keyed his comm to their overwatch pair, "How's it looking you two?"

"Apart from seeing two big looking animals doing something I really do not need in my day-to-day, I'm still not seeing much of anything. No geth, quarians, nothing," Garrus replied, "However, I did pass two more escape pods on my way here. One looked to have crashed vertically, and another looks to have been...well..." the turian drifted off, tone sounding worn out.

"Tell me Garrus," Marcus sighed, knowing what was to come, "What happened?"

"The second pod looks like it was bombarded. From the angle the debris flew away at and the distance from the ground zero site, I'd say the bombardment was aerial; likely a geth dropship. I...I didn't see any survivors, Marcus. I'm sorry. I didn't see much in the first pod, either. But given how they looked, I wouldn't be placing any bets."

"Hopefully there are more survivors ahead. Keep me posted. Legion, you see anything on your own end?" Marcus asked, growing increasingly agitated with the lack of sizable intel.  _So far all we've got is bread crumbs. Where are they? Where did they go?_

The geth's response only added to this feeling of helplessness, "Negative, Shepard-Commander. No geth activity detected, and no life signs in the vicinity aside from those belonging to the creators, yourself and Vakarian-Archangel."

"You know, I'm not actually Archangel anymore, Legion," Garrus corrected over the comms, "Stopped being that after Omega, actually."

"This unit is aware," the geth simply replied, causing a slight grin to slip across Marcus' lips. It quickly dropped however as they pressed on, their search continuing, "Cut the chatter everyone. We've got to keep moving. Keep searching."

And so they did.

Over crevices, through the rocks. Nothing but plants and dust and the darkness.

Stars continued to twinkle in the sky, unnamed worlds unknowing of what was happening. That the search for one man hung in the balance. That if this one man died or was lost, an entire people were doomed. Marcus refused to let that happen. This mission was not over until he either had Koris alive, or a body. He would not give up. He could not. The quarian people depended on him. On his squad.

After a while, they reached an open plain, which was a nice change from the repetitive crevices and pathways they had found themselves traversing. A small dune led them down onto a wide open savannah, with trees evenly spaced out, allowing sunlight to reach the ground during the day time. Most of these trees were full of life, with greenery sprouting from every branch, standing tall and mighty, a testament to their long existence. A minority were small and dry, their lifeless branches telling a much different story to the behemoths they shared habitation with.

Separating them from this savannah however, and located just at the end of the dune, was a large river, easily eight meters in width. A large column of water washed itself in a constant stream down to the right, continuing until it spilled off the side of the cliff. Water cascaded in tall towers towards the ground several hundred feet below, causing a thunderous boom as it made contact with its connecting side on the ground. The noise was almost deafening.

_I see we've reached the real Pava'pa'ke Falls now. No way Koris and his crew got across though. That water is too deep and the force propelling it would have washed them away. They must have taken a different route._

And as Marcus looked out across the open savannah, he realized they couldn't possibly survey it all.

He lowered his rifle, cursing his luck, "Fuck, a goddamn dead end. And not the typical sort."

"I can't see anything, Marcus. Tree cover is just too dense," Garrus reported.

"We are reporting similiar inability as well, Shepard-Commander," their geth companion added in kind, "We have enhanced our optical zoom to a hundred percent and are unable to penetrate the dense canopy of the savannah."

"Keelah," Madi exclaimed, almost slumping in defeat, "We'll never find them in this. It'll take hours. There must be another way."

"Doesn't look like it, yol'tiya," Kal stated, squaring his own shoulders, "I don't see how he got across this river in one piece, though. That, or he didn't. But I doubt Admiral Koris would be stupid enough to attempt a crossing."

"We'll play on the assumption that he didn't," Marcus declared, turning towards them with a fire in his eyes, "I came this far, and I'm not about to be stopped by this. We'll-

The tense quiet of the night was finally broken by piercing  _bang_.

All of them turned at once, respective weapons aimed. Marcus himself scanned the canopy, but could not find the cause. No rising plume of fire reached into the air, and from the sounds of it, no explosions followed it. But there had been no mistaking that sound.  _A grenade._

A few moments later, another  _bang_ followed it. And this time, it was accompanied by an unmistakable loud synthetic click. That usually associated with geth.

Gunfire followed, the sound of geth pulse rifles. The cough of a geth plasma shotgun charging and firing. The slap of a Javelin sniper rifle. The  _thump, thump, thump_ of a geth grenade launcher. And inbetween it all, were the reports of standard firearms. The barely heard sound of a carnifex answering every rifle pop. The sound of organic cries; unmistakably quarian.

"I think the ancestors have just given them to us," Madi murmured, gripping her rifle with new purpose. Marcus nodded, about to tap his comm when he heard the roar of thrusters.

He looked up in time to see Garrus descending towards them, orange flame spitting and hissing from his back as he was lowered downwardly. Arriving at his destination, he moved into a roll, the turian arriving in a crouched position as he brought his sniper rifle up, immediately sighting down range. Not long after, Legion joined them, albeit less stylishly, preferring to simply slam into the ground with a loud crash, optic already centered down its rifle scope before it even hit the ground.

"I can see 'em," Garrus declared, mandibles twitching under his helmet, "They're about...one point five klicks north of our position. They've got good cover and I count at least ten of them. They've all got pistols and shotguns, are using rocks for cover. Although I don't think that's going to last, Marcus. As for the geth forces, I'm having a hard time counting all of them, but I count at least two score of them. Mostly troopers, shock troopers, rocket troopers and what looks to be a few snipers along the treeline. There's also two destroyers and one juggernaut. Overall, I don't rate their chances of getting out of there alive as being particularly high."

"Yes, thank you for the negativity, Garrus. It is much appreciated," Marcus snapped, obviously not in the mood for his semantics.  _Finding them was hard enough, now it's actually extracting them alive. That's going to be a killer. First though, we must reach them. How the fuck did they cross the damn river?_

"Shepard-Commander, we have located a bridge structure that will allow us to cross the river," Legion reported, motioning to the far left side. All party members turned to see the structure; it was definitely old looking. It was made of what looked to be old, worn out stone, but looked to be in relatively good condition. Ancient quarian khelish was etched into the stone as markings, likely old directions for city civilians long dead. Whatever it's purpose, it was there for them now, and its good condition would make getting to Koris' crew much easier.

"Then let's move, people. Time's wasting," Marcus barked, breaking into a jog as he took the lead, approaching the bridge with as much speed as he could muster that didn't involve a full-sprint, "Garrus, Legion, when we get within 500 meters of the combat zone, lay down and provide covering fire. Tali, you're with me; we're going to flank around and hit them from behind. Kal, take Madi and use your grenade launcher to take care of that juggernaut, then link up with Koris and his crew and get a look of where they are at. Wounded, tactical situation, thermal clips left, whatever. Ask them hard and fast. Let's do this people. Double time it-"

Just as they crossed halfway across the bridge, their armoured boots clacking against the hard stone, a loud thrum could be heard. It was a sound Marcus was quite accustomed to; after all, he had heard enough of the sound during the Eden Prime War. The engines of a geth dropship. And one of them was close, by the sound of it.

His immediate instinct was to look behind them, but he saw nothing. Looking to the side and in front of him, he narrowed his eyes to see it, but still he saw nothing. And despite it all, the sound only grew. It grew and grew, its intensity becoming almost piercing, but despite the proximity of the sound, none of his squad could find it.

"Legion, just where the hell is that sound coming from?" Marcus snapped.

"Shepard-Commander, we forgot to tell you-"

Legion's response was drowned out as the sound became deafening, a blast of wind slamming against their armoured bodies as the dropship passed right over them. Tali, Madi and Kal's veils were picked up and flown in the air like scarves, blowing in the intense breeze. Dust was kicked up in temporary plumes, temporarily blinding them in the whirlwind. His armor clanged as bits of rock ricocheted off the tough material.

They all looked up, and despite what they knew had just happened...

...the sky was still clear, their view of Rannoch's four moons and the stars around them still unmolested.

_What the fuck is going on here?_

The sound got more distant, clearly heading towards the quarian positions. He focused on the sky as the sound moved further away, but despite all his senses being honed into the task, the sky remained adamant in its belief that nothing was disturbing its air space.

_We can't all be going crazy...surely-_

And then, like a phantom, it was there. He watched the crackle of electricity and the warble of energy as the dropship slowly appeared; electricity glided over its hull, and wherever it touched, grey and silver metal appeared, the sleek design of geth architecture. And once all the electricity was gone, the vessel was there, for all to see. Immediately upon appearing, its ventral deployment hatches hissed open, and geth troopers dropped onto the field, at least six geth hunters and seven more geth troopers.

As baffled as he was before, it was starting to make sense, and his bewilderment was broken as he continued his jog, this one more persistent.  _I know that effect. I've seen that happen to-but that can't be possible. That's technology way beyond-_

"Legion," he began, gulping as they ran, helmet batting aside overhanging leaves for him as they passed through, "Since when did the geth possess the technology to cloak their ships? I thought that kind of technology was only theoretical."

"Theoretical for organic governments. Organics are restrained by resource management, economic budgets and military strategic welfare. The geth are not effected by such limitations. We saw a technological advantage, and we build it," the geth replied, running at a pace that not only caught up with Marcus, but surpassed him. It took Marcus a moment to remember that Legion was a machine; they didn't get tired or fatigued, "However, the geth had only been implementing this technology to our ships when the creators attacked us. When the Old Machines corrupted the geth, the cloaking technology was applied to all geth ships immediately."

"So wait, you're telling me the geth only just came up with this technology, even though the tactical cloak has been around for years?" Garrus pondered, curious, "This only now occurred to the geth? And what do you mean, 'all geth ships'?"

"The geth did not see its implementation as a necessity. We were not in a state of war, and it would not give us any significant tactical gain in preserving our borders against invaders. It would only have been able to see widespread use in a full-scale conflict, which we believed the Creators would not be able to enact," Legion reported, getting ever closer to the quarians, the sound of gunfire and cries and synthetic warbles increasing, "The only reason the geth looked at the technology again was due to the threat of the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander accepted our gesture of cooperation, and we believed it necessary to prepare for war against the Old Machines."

 _Cloaking technology for warships? Legion, the geth may have just made the Normandy's stealth drive obsolete._ He turned to the geth, beginning to drawn in his breaths more heavily as they edged closer, "But Legion, what do you mean all geth ships have this?"

"We believed our description to be self-explanatory, Shepard-Commander," Legion responded, its optics turning to regard him entirely, "All geth vessels are equipped with this technology. Even our dreadnought-class ships. The entire geth fleet and all platforms would be able to entire a cloaked state at any one point to avoid detection from Creator forces. As for the technology itself, it combines the effects of the Normandy's stealth drive and tactical cloaking technology. The ship is hidden from not just sensors, but also visual scans, which is achieved through bending light around the perceived-"

"I know how tactical cloaks work, Legion!" he barked, shaking his head. They were so close now. He could hear every word the quarians screamed with crystal clarity. They slowed their advance down to a halt, all of them crouching so as to not make their presence known. They needed to take the geth by complete surprise.

Sitting still, he turned to the geth, who was now moving into a prone position as ordered, its Widow rifle positioned accordingly to allow it free movement, "So what you're telling me is that this technology not only makes the ship invisible visually, it makes it  _totally_ invisible? Even to sensors?"

"This is correct," the geth replied, modifying its scope, "However, as you have observed with our dropships, the cloaking cannot hide sound. In space, this does not matter, as sound does not travel to begin with, making ships totally undetectable. Once in atmosphere however, they can be heard, and any natural effects, such as wind, still occur."

"Good to know," Marcus replied, frowning slightly, "But wait...do the Reapers have this technology?"

"Analyzing query," the geth replied, suddenly still for a moment. Then it replied, "The Old Machines do not possess this technology. As observed by the memories of the heretics, it was discovered that the Old Machines believed tactical cloaking to be unnecessary given the firepower they wielded, and have not made any efforts to develop such technology."

_Reaper arrogance. Typical. Still, their fault is our gain. This'll give us a valuable tactical advantage. First though, we settle this war._

"We can continue talking about this later," Marcus ordered, "Everybody, take positions." Turning to his left, he saw Garrus positioned behind a tree in the same position as Legion already, just waiting for Marcus' word. With a firm nod at the turian, he turned back to his squad, holding up a hand to Kal and Madi. Kal understood the signal, quickly holstering his rifle and pulling out his new favourite toy; the geth grenade launcher he had retrieved, which Legion had revealed was called a Centaur. An appropriate name, Marcus surmized.

"Everyone, on my mark. Legion, Garrus, you'll have the opening shots."

"I've got a hunter in my sights. Legion, do you see the one next to it?" Garrus reported.

"Acknowledged, Vakarian-Archangel."

"Target it. They're about to flank the quarians from the right. I think they're being a bit naughty."

Marcus could only grin as he glanced at Tali, his wife having her shotgun in hand and ready to fight by his side. Noticing his like, she smiled at him, reaching out one hand to squeeze his own.  _I'm right here_ , the gesture said. With a warm smile, he turned back, and without any further waiting, he clenched his fist and waved it forward.  _Attack._

Their attack was complemented by two sharp bursts, both of varying degree. Plasma thrums and muzzle flashes were joined by two sharp bangs, one quietened and sharp, the other high-pitched and hard. Regardless, they hit their targets dead center; one tore through the back of one geth hunter before it could activate its tactical cloak, the high-velocity, high-impact shell blowing apart its optics and tearing its head asunder. The force of the impact sent it slamming face first, plasma shotgun falling from its hands. Garrus' shot hit its own target simultaneously, doing less damage, but with the same result, leaving two very dead hunters.

Marcus and Tali were already moving, flanking off to the geth's rear. A few shots sliced through the air above and inbetween them, likely from either geth return fire or from missing shots. An explosion rose near them, the force stumbling them slightly, but not close enough to totally ground them. Dust rained on them, but they continued, pressing on until they reached a small cluster of trees, dropping into a crouch.

Marcus turned, watching as Madi and Kal moved, already opening fire. Three flashes blasted from the barrel of Kal's centaur, and he heard a loud synthetic cry follow the salvo, watching as the geth concentrated their fire on the pair. Madi got off two shots before the two quarians were forced to drop behind a pair of trees, pulse rifle fire and sniper shots chewing up the ground they had been standing on before.

He turned to his wife, grinning behind his helmet, "You ready for this?"

The rack of her shotgun drew back as she loaded it, and the steady hum of her shotgun building up power could be heard. He imagined her own grin behind her armoured mask, "I'm right beyond you, yol'tiya."

"God, I love you."

"Knock it off," Tali chastized, although he knew she enjoyed his words of endearment, "We're in the middle of a battle."

"Best time for it," Marcus remarked, checking his pulse rifle was loaded, "Okay, you spread out five meters from me, but keep me in your sights. Steady fire, and watch your crossfire. Quick and precise, and keep to the trees. Use your grenades if you need to, and try and whittle down their shields as much as you can," he quickly commed Garrus, "Garry, need you to cover our advance."

"For spirits sa-, well at least it isn't...you know," the turian grumbled, clearly not happy at the use of one of many of Kasumi's pet names for him, "Copy that, I've got you in my crosshairs. Ready when you are, Marcus."

"Okay, on my mark," Marcus ordered, taking a deep breath, "Three, two...one! Okay, move, move, move! Hit 'em hard!"

Marcus was out in an instant, pulse rifle shouldered and firing. Tali did as ordered, spreading out into a five meter distance as she shouldered her shotgun and opened fire with shots of her own.

Marcus' pulse rifle pretty much came to life in his hands, an intense glow building within the weapon's core before being unleashed upon his targets. The weapon vibrated intensely as brilliant, purple flashes erupted from the barrel, moving at rapid velocities to strike their targets with superheated spherical bullets. The rounds hit home, chewing through his target's shields almost instantly before proceeding to blow chunks of metal off its chasis, the trooper squealing electronically as it withered under the hail of fire. White liquid spurted from every wound inflicted upon it until it finally collapsed in silence, crumbling under its own weight as it slammed into the dust.

He did not let up. As soon as the trooper was falling, he switched his targets to another one. His pulse rifle opened fire, rupturing shields rapidly as it had before. Within moments, rounds pierced its own own pulse rifle, rendering the weapon useless. The geth attempted to drop its weapon in a haste to find another one, but before it could, he aimed further up, and a single burst embedded itself in the geth's optics, obliterating it instantly, the momentum sending it tumbling onto its back, motionless.

At this point, augmented by their increased processing speed, the geth were catching onto what was happening. By that point however, two more troopers had fallen to Tali's simultaneous assault, bursts of plasma having bitten into their backs and killed them before they knew what was happening. A third geth platform, this one a rocket trooper, was in the process of turning to attack Tali with its ML-77 Missile Launcher, when a round struck it clean through the side of its head, sending a fountain of circuits, liquid and cabling spilling onto the ground. The geth stood there for a moment, shaking, before it finally toppled forwards, missile launcher still clutched in its hands.

"Hold the round of applause, Tali. I know you're just unable to contain yourself," Garrus remarked through the comms.

Even as Marcus pressed forward, bringing down fire upon a trio of shock troopers, who looked to be trying to halt their advance, Tali was moving into a forward combat roll, managing to gracefully holster her shotgun during this motion.

"Don't flatter yourself, Vakarian," the quarian snarkily replied as she came out of her roll into a crouch, reaching under the dead rocket trooper and prying its missile launcher from its dead hands. With the launcher now in her possession, she quickly stood up, brought it to her shoulder, and depressed the trigger four times, watching as a stream of missiles poured from the barrel.

Marcus himself wasn't having such a great time. He had managed to eliminate one of the shock troopers, but the other two had quickly assumed a more defensive role, dropping into a crouch and unloading a hail of fire onto the spectre with their pulse rifles, the purple flashes in the darkness being almost blinding.

In response, he dropped into a crouch of his own, bringing up his omni-shield to repel the wave of gunfire. He watched it uselessly ping off the orange field, either ricocheting and hitting the ground, or vaporizing upon impact. Either way, the troopers caught on quickly, and in a show of tactical prowess, both of them stood up, with one strafing to the left, and the other to the right. While they did this, they both kept firing, reloading their weapons with lightning speed.

_I can use my shield to block the shots of one, but I'd have to turn my back on the other. Fuck. Only one way to deal with this. This is gonna hurt me more than them, I bet._

With nothing to help it, he quickly dropped his omni-shield, and brought one leg in preparation for what he was going to do. For a few seconds, his kinetic barriers bared the brunt of the geth envelopment, and were draining fast when his body finally began to swim in the liquid blue of biotics. A familiar, cool feeling flooded his body, pumping him with adrenaline, and tightening his muscles.

_Here...goes...NOTHING!_

One second Marcus was there, the next he wasn't.

His body lurched forward at the speed of a bullet, his entire body becoming one, blue projectile. In the span of a second, he had moved five meters, slamming into his target with the force of twenty frag grenades exploding in one's face. The sound of metal slamming against metal was an almost deafening sound, and his armor bumped against him roughly, likely to be giving him bruises later.

Luckily for him, the force did more to the geth than to him. While Marcus managed to land in a roll, the shock trooper was totally unprepared for such an attack, and was sent flinging backwards, its back slamming against a tree with such force that the tree (keep in mind that this tree was at least over 70 inches thick) actually bent back slightly before righting itself. The shock trooper itself was left broken, pulse rifle slipping from its hand to fall to the ground as its broken body fell to the ground, snapped in an unnatural shape.

Quickly spinning around, he reached out a biotic hand, encasing the second shock trooper in a field of blue. The geth was lifted into the air effortlessly, hands desperately trying to right its aim so it could snap off shots at Marcus, but to no avail. Despite its upgrades, the geth were still helpless against biotics.

After lifting the geth several meters, he brought it back down again, with enough force to bury its head at least half a meter into the ground, optics likely crushed from the impact. The geth went still, its platform now dead.

"Having fun?" Garrus asked over the comms, clearly amused.

Marcus took a moment to steal a breath, grinning, "Time of my life."

"Hahaha...I hear tha-shit, get down! Sniper, on your six!"

Marcus did as he was told immediately, the sound of a loud boom echoing through his ears just before he dropped. His kinetic barriers registered the impact, but luckily for him, they had recharged to a strong enough state to protect him. But the shot had now drained them again, so he remained still, bringing up his rifle to pop off shots at the geth from his safer position.

"Hold on a second. Oh no you don't..." Garrus mumbled. After a moment, another loud boom was heard, this one from Garrus' rifle. A second later, a whoop of triumph, "Another one down! I'll keep an eye out for any more snipers, Marcus."

Marcus finished his latest burst, this one tearing the leg off of a charging trooper, who had attempted a kamikaze action against him. By this time, his shields had recharged, and he picked himself up into a crouch position, "Copy that. I'm moving forward! Tali, status!"

The quarian replied instantly, "We're pushing them back! The juggernaut's dead, and Legion just picked off the last destroyer! Although I doubt this is it!"

_Yeah, the geth most certainly know we're here now. They'll send reinforcements soon enough._

"Keep pushing! Let's mop this up and link up with Kal and Madi before the geth send reinforcements!" he ordered, "All forward!"

Tali didn't need any further orders, so he returned to his own special flow in combat, holstering his rifle before pulling out both his pistol and SMG simultaneously, dual-wielding them with equal measure.

As he rounded the next crop of trees, he was surprised to find an unknowing geth sniper in a prone position. It fired its javelin before quickly reloading it, slapping a fresh thermal clip into the provided slot with unparalelled speed.

Without so much as regarding it any further, he took aim at the back of its head with his pistol, and fired. Its form went limp a second after the shot pierced its optics, bits of glass and white liquid coating the ground under where the shot impacted. The sniper dealt with, he pressed forward, using the trees to screen his movements, as he came upon the main geth flank.

Tali was right; they were getting beaten back. The geth were no longer pushing the offensive as they had been, and were now adopting a more defensive posture than they had been before. He watched as a rocket trooper moved to take aim with its launcher before its head suddenly wasn't there any longer, blasted away in a haze of plasma and heat. Not even bothering to acknowledge its corpse, Tali stepped past it, Chitika hovering by her shoulder as it popped off incendiary blasts and overloads at any geth unlucky enough to risk her shotgun.

He only smiled endearingly at her before quickly bursting from the trees himself, locking onto a pair of rocket troopers and a trio of shock troopers.

He raised both his weapons, took aim, and fired. The timed cough and semi-automatic, multi-shot bursts of his pistol and SMG fired respectively, twin muzzle bursts flashing in inconsistent tandem, blowing away at their targets. One shot managed to pierce the shoulder of one rocket trooper, throwing off its aim as its missile fired uselessly into the sky. The rocket trooper was quick to recover however, spinning around to fire its missile at Marcus. Before it could, Marcus' pistol fired again, hitting it directly into the optics and downing it immediately.

His SMG raked along the shields of one shock trooper, but was having little effect, as the kinetic barriers on a shock trooper were more powerful than he thought; it was only the pulse rifle that managed to pierce them so easily due to the power held within it. He continued to hold the trigger, but only managed to drain half its shields before the shock trooper finally retaliated, bringing up its rifle and firing. His shields were already at three quarters before he finally moved to the left.

By then he only just managed to miss having a round strike right through his hip, instead wincing as it pierced his armor, grazing against his skin. The heat and impact were enough to send a lance of fiery pain right up his side, but he shoved that pain to the side long enough to bring himself closer to the geth.

Firing his pistol over his target's shoulder, he managed to pin down the geth behind it long enough for him to bring up his omni-blade on the SMG arm. Before the shock trooper knew what was happening, he used his pistol arm to knock the pulse rifle away, spin on his right foot, and bring his omni-blade slicing downwards, taking the geth's head with it in a flaming hiss.

Orange light tinged the edges of the decapitation zone, and liquid spurted in tall rivulets as it collapsed, with nothing to connect it to its software. Using its body as cover, he brought both weapons up to deal with the second shock trooper, but realized it was no longer there.

Looking down for a split second, he noticed a large hole in its chest, and smiled even as he watched a purple flash dance past him, and another blast of light strike the second rocket trooper in its thigh. Brought to a knee, it tried to bring up its other arm to fire, but its head disappeared shortly after, leaving it to stumble and fall.

In a matter of moments, a warm back collided with his, "Miss me?" Tali laughed, already firing again.

"It's like you were gone for a week," he replied, bringing both his pistol and SMG up to pour into the third, retreating shock trooper. Unable to whether the assault, it fell, body riddled with holes and smoke pouring from every orifice.

For a moment, it seemed the battlefield was going to lessen up.

And then a familiar sound roared through the sky.

"Dropship!" Kal spat over the comms, "We've got incoming! 12 0'Clock, high!"

Marcus and Tali's heads snapped up in tandem, watching as infamous aerial vehicle descended towards them.

Even from this distance, they could see the energy gathering at its bow.

Oh shit.

"Move!" he barked, quickly making a break for the cover Koris and his crew were using, running at full pelt, "Get to cover!"

Tali was at his side almost as soon as the dropship opened fire, twin lances of missiles shooting towards them. Within moments of firing, the missiles found their mark, slamming into the ground with unbelievable force, sending columns of smoke, grit, fire and dust shooting up into the air, drenching them in its fire.

The double explosions sent Tali and Marcus tumbling forward onto the ground from the proximity. It took a moment for Marcus to come to his senses, wiping his visor as he spun around to see what was happening.

The dropship stopped over where it had attacked, and once again, its ventral launch hatches opened. Marcus expected more troopers to deploy, or perhaps a few more destroyers, or worse, a full platoon of juggernauts.

Instead, he watched as at least four squadrons worth of recon and assault drones poured from its hull, followed by at least a squad of hoppers. The drones Marcus didn't particularly care about, but boy did he fucking hate hoppers.  _Fuck._

"Take out those drones! Garrus, Legion, focus on those damn hoppers!" Marcus snapped, bringing up his pistol and SMG and immediately opening fire. From the sheer amount of drones flying towards them, he didn't even need to aim.

Tali followed his example, dropping her shotgun in favor of snapping out her pistol, popping off shot after shot at the coming horde. They were immediately met with the geth's retaliatory response, waves of purple light casting aside the darkness as they arched towards their targets, promising to deliver death en masse. The rotary guns mounted on the bellies of recon drones fired at full bore, with the assault drones not letting up either. The hoppers leapt into the trees, firing at the quarians from a distance, but never getting any closer. All the while, the dropship just hovered there, content to not move.

As Marcus and Tali began to crawl back, they did not let up for one second; did not take their eyes off the geth horde for one minute. And it was working. The odd shot would embed itself into the poorly armoured form of a recon drone, the impact either sending it spiralling out of control to smash upon the ground, or causing it to explode instantly. The assault drones required a bit more pressure, as they possessed shields, but once those were down, they died just as easily as any recon drone.

Sniper fire from Legion and Garrus answered the hoppers. They were fast moving, leaping around the field at a frantic pace, never staying in the one place for more than a second before delivering its payload and leaping somewhere else. But Garrus and Legion were good shots, and every couple of missed shots, a dead hopper flopped to the ground, a shot having pierced its optics or another pivotal part of operation on its body.

Marcus' SMG overheated in his hands, Marcus cursing as he turned to address the offending hopper, but unable to find it. A moment later, said hopper collapsed onto the ground, Chitika having found it and levelled an incineration blast at it, killing it instantly.

"Fuck this," Marcus spat as he finally dropped both his weapons and brought back out his pulse rifle. Shouldering it, he immediately opened fire, and watched with suppressed glee as drone after drone after drone exploded, raining shrapnel all around them. The fire continued to lessen until eventually every single drone was destroyed. Garrus and Legion required very little help dealing with the remaining hoppers.

When the battle subsided, silence once again overcame the savannah, with only the sound of footsteps, shuffles and the subtle hum of the dropship's stationary orbit to be heard.

Marcus got to his feet, picking up his weapons and holstering them as Tali did with her shotgun, summoing her drone back so she could deactivate and put it away. Marcus reloaded his pulse rifle, making sure to pop out the old, used one before doing so. He made a show to wipe the dust coating his visor off, leaving deep indents as he did so. Turning back to Tali, he smiled, patting her shoulder.

Then they all turned to look at the dropship, and when it seemed like it would attack again, the ship simply began to slowly move away, building up more and more speed as it did. As it reached terminus speed, it initialized its cloak, and light once again bent around it as the dropship began one with the night, only the distortions of the refraction giving away its true existence.

"Well, I guess that's it. For now," Marcus stated, taking a deep breath, "Garrus, Legion, regroup on us. Kal, Madi, how does it look?"

Kal's reply was grim, "Not as good as we'd hoped, sir. That wave of drones took out three more of the crew, and a sniper got another one. We've also got one who's badly wounded, sir. I don't think he's going to make it."

"Copy that. We're on our way," Marcus replied, motioning for Tali to follow him as he let his weapon slide back onto his back, shaking his head as they both jogged for the rocks the quarians were using as cover.  _Four of ten survivors dead. That leaves us with just six people, and five if this fifth doesn't make it. Fuck._

As they reached the cropping of rocks, they heard a ragged voice, along with another female voice he didn't recognize, "It's going to be okay, just hold on. We just need to seal your-"

As Marcus and Tali rounded the corner, they got to see the quarian man fully, and knew that what the female was saying was anywhere close to being the truth. He was severely shot up, and that was just putting it mildly. Blood pooled around where he sat, being soaked up by the ground. His mask was intact, but the chest section of his suit had been shredded to bloody ribbons, nothing but a mass of exposed muscle, tendons and veins to be seen; any grey skin that survived the exposure was painted in red blood, alot of it wet and still dripping. Orange medi-gel could be made out amongst the wounds as they tried to make him more comfortable, but it was clear the quarian wasn't going to make it.

The quarian responded to the female's kind words, gurgling as he likely coughed up blood, "Tell it to me true, Deza. I'm not going to make it."

The quarian identifed as Deza wasn't going to give into such defeatist, but realistic, logic, "No! That's not true! You can fight this! People have suffered worse and survived, Dorn! You can get through this!"

To Marcus' surprise, it was Tali who moved forward, placing a hand on Deza's shoulder. The quarian turned around, her eyes demanding to know who would dare be so familiar. After seeing who it was though, the quarian straightened her eyes widening, "Admiral Shepard-"

"-Deza, it would appear Dorn has made his decision. And he is right," Tali, the admiral, replied. She turned to look at the quarian named Dorn, smiling wearily, "He has been exposed to open air too long, and there is no way his suit can save him from this. He is going to die, Deza."

"No! That's not-that's not true..." Deza whimpered, hands over her vocalizer.

"It-it's okay..." Dorn replied, gulping as he winced, trying to make himself more comfortable against the rock's rugged surface, "I can...I can be with...be with my yol'tiya, again. I can see Dagt again."

"Who-who is Dagt?" Deza asked.

The voice to respond was a familiar one, one which made Marcus turn to look in belief. There, crouched beside Dorn's seated body, was a male quarian in cyan, milky white suit. His veil was a light shade of pink, with a checkered pattern of crosses. His mask was a cobalt blue color, with multiple straps covering his chest. He had a single carnifex pistol which was holstered on his hip, and he was crouched on one knee, looking defeated.

The voice that responded was very British sounding, always making Marcus wonder if there was secretly a pom hiding in that suit, "Dagt'Hazt vas Lazataa was his wife. She...she was the lead scientist on the Alarei."

He watched Tali's shoulders slump slightly before she staightened them again, not allowing anyone to see her weakness. Marcus looked at her sadly, memories of the Alarei appearing in his head.  _Seems Tali wasn't the only one who lost a loved one in the Alarei Incident._

A moment of silence followed, with a few of the crew taking a moment to take a breather, while others stocked up on ammo and assessed any battle wounds they may have suffered. A few tended to the dead, making sure their bodies were assembled appropriately and respectively.

Tali eventually broke the silence, coming to kneel beside Dorn with a sad expression, taking Dorn's hand in her own as she grasped it, "You a soldier, Dorn?"

"I'm...my name is...Dorn'Hazt, Admiral. I..." he coughed, trying to gain some composure as he sputtered, "I worked maintenance on the Qwib Qwib...I clean engine parts."

Tali patted his hand, "It's okay Dorn, you don't have to be afraid anymore. You're here. You're on the homeworld."

"Keelah," Dorn seemed to reply indirectly, as if Tali's words had just helped him fathom where he was. He looked up into the sky, glowing eyes landing one of Rannoch's larger orbitting moons, "It's beautiful...I wish...I wish...damn it...I wish Dagt was here to see this. I wish...Jona...my son..." The quarian trailed off, and after a moment, it seemed like the quarian had died. His eyes had closed, and he didn't move.

Then his body began to shake. And after a while, the telltale sounds of weeping could be heard.

"My boy," Dorn wept, his sobs coming out as long heeves, "My smart boy. He's...he's going to grow up without any parents. His mother's dead and soon...I will join her. I can see her again. But at least I got to see the homeworld before I...die."

"Yes, you did, Dorn. I'll be sure to tell your son that his father died on the home of our ancestors," Tali reassured him, stroking his hand, "You died a hero, Dorn. The crew of the Qwib Qwib will be remembered for what happened here."

Marcus stepped in, kneeling beside Dorn, gaining the quarian's attention as he sniffed, looking into Marcus' eyes. The spectre nodded, giving a smile of his own behind his helmet, nodding to accentuate it, "For a man who clean engine parts, Dorn, you did good. You did damn good. Your son should be proud."

"Rest easy now," Tali gulped, as if building up to something. It was clear Dorn was in his death throes now, "Rest in peace, Dorn'Hazt pav Rannoch. Keelah Se'lai."

"Please...tell my son...tell Jona...tell him I...I..."

Dorn's other hand was lifted, and all eyes turned to watch as Koris, Captain of the Qwib Qwib and Admiral of the Civilian Fleet, patted the man's shoulder in tandem, "I will, Dorn. I will tell Jona personally."

"Thank you, Admiral," Dorn replied, his eyes starting to droop visibly behind the mask, "Keelah...Re'lai..."

Dorn's head slumped to the side, and his body went limp. Tali and Koris let go of the dead man's hands, making sure to place them across his chest in a sign of respect. As had Kal and Madi before, they began whispering prayers for the dead under their breath, and Marcus took that as his cue to stand, moving over to where Garrus and Legion stood.

Garrus looked at him grimly, "How many survived?"

"Five," Marcus growled, "Only fucking five."

Garrus let his head hang low; it must have been a turian way of respect. Legion did not move, merely responding.

"We mourn the loss of the creators," Legion replied, its voice having a sad quality to it, "The geth will remember their sacrifice when this is over."

" _When_ this is over," Marcus repeated bitterly, armoured hands on his equally armoured hips, "Which better be fucking soon."  _Five. Just five. Only fucking five. Out of all the survivors, we only got five, including Koris? That's too few. Too goddamn few._

"Captain," came Koris' voice from behind them, Marcus turning to watch as the admiral approached him, with Tali not far behind. Kal and Madi had stayed to take care of the other four survivors, and to see to it the bodies were arranged properly, "Your help was not anticipated. My crew and I were ready to die."

Marcus nodded.  _I know that feeling all too well._

"Your fellow admirals made it quite clear that your survival is pivotal to the war effort. Losing you would not only be a significant setback, but could have lethal consequences," he explained, "Apparently, your loss could result in a civil war."

Koris nodded humbly, hands clasped behind his back, "I...I see."

"We couldn't afford to lose you, Koris," Tali stated, arriving at his side, "We simply couldn't. We ran the numbers, and the cost we've suffered now would be far greater if we lost you."

"I understand. My fleet would not follow any other admiral," Koris summarized, nodding hesitantly as he turned back to his own crew, "It is just a pity you did not come sooner. We've been holding out for two days. We were stronger before, but we've lost more and more people as the geth kept pressing. I'm surprised we lasted this long."

"How many were there before?" Garrus asked.

"Forty," Koris stated simply, his eyes having a downcast look to them, "Forty-one, if you are to include me. And only a quarter of those had any combat training."

The numbers hit Marcus like a rocket, and he was stunned for several moments.  _Thirty-six quarians dead. Fuck, the cost better be worth it..._

"If only we had come sooner..." Tali said, trailing off.

"All we can do is mourn them and make their sacrifice worth it," Marcus stated simply, hiding his true thoughts from them, "That's all we can do."

"Shepard-Commander," Legion spoke suddenly, "We are detecting activity."

"Keelah, a geth?" Koris flinched slightly, although compared to Raan and Xen's reactions, it was a relatively tame gesture, "And it isn't trying to kill us?"

"It's a long story, Admiral. Long story short, Legion's a friend of ours, and he isn't corrupted by the Reapers. He's here to help," the spectre explained. With his explanation looking to have soothed Koris' fears, he turned to Legion, frowning, "What kind of activity?"

"It is the geth dropship," Legion replied, "It is approaching for another pass."

"Without cloak?" Marcus quiered, frowning, "Why the hell not? Why let us know they're coming?"

"Because it is carrying cargo that cannot be hidden by the cloak, therefore negating its usefulness," Legion declared.

He did not like the sound of that, "Legion... _what kind_ of cargo?"

The geth's response was simple; it brought out its Widow rifle, prompting the rest of them to do the same, "We recommend finding defensive positions. It will deploy behind us."

Marcus nodded, shouting as he turned, "Kal, Madi, get everyone to the trees! The dropship's coming in for another pass!"

He watched Kal and Madi nod, motioning to the four survivors to begin running for the trees. They began to do this just as the dropship's form appeared from around the trees, roaring to a halt in mid air as it opened up at the six running quarians with its usual salvo of missiles.

Marcus watched as the salvo trailed the group striking just behind them. The first detonation did no harm except send the quarian running from behind, Deza, flying, her body hitting the ground as the blast finished carrying her. Marcus and the squad could only watch in horror as the second missile hit her in the torso.

The resulting explosion consumed her, chunks of gore and viscera propelled through the dusty, night air in multiple directions as the blast scattered her. Suit fabric, superheated muscle particles, skin flakes, arms, legs, you name it, it went flying through the air to hit the ground around the blast within a fifteen meter radius. All that was left of Deza now was just a crater.

Luckily, the others made it to the trees, but the dropship was not finished. And it was then that Marcus noticed its cargo too late.

_Oh, fuck me..._

The docking hooks under it unlatched its cargo, which slammed into the ground below it with almost bone crushing force. Its job done, the dropship entered cloak and silently slipped away, only the roar of its engines being heard.

"Everybody, get to the damn trees! Kal, get out here with that grenade launcher! Garrus, Legion, scatter! Pepper that motherfucker!"

Even before he had finished giving out his orders, the source of their panic began to extend itself from its fetal position. Four, mechanical legs extended outwards and began to pull its main, armoured body up and off the ground. The wiring and cabling could barely be seen under its bright white heavy armor as it stood up, almost reaching its full height. Even then, it continued to unpack, a long neck extending from the front to stand fully erect, its optics gleaming from the top, staring at them. Attached to the side of it was a heavy machine gun, and under that, a heavy siege pulse cannon.

At its full height, the geth colossus stood at a frightening height of just under fifteen meters; the size of a small house. The geth answer to the tank.

Without so much as a sound, a purple energy began to build up within its siege pulse cannon.

The colossus barely acknowledged the sniper rounds that pinged harmlessly against its powerful kinetic barriers, simply focusing on Koris, Marcus and Tali as it continued to charge its siege pulse. After a moment, he turned to Koris, "Admiral, get to the trees.  _Now._ " Koris knew when to flee, and did as he was told, running at full pelt for the treeline. Marcus had to admit, for an admiral of his age, he ran pretty fast.

Marcus turned to Tali, "Scatter."

His wife did not need reminding. She immediately strafed off to the left, and Marcus did the same on the right just as the colossus finished charging its cannon up and fired.

The two of them managed to evacuate the vicinity just before the projectile hit. Looking behind him, he watched as the siege pulse hit the ground where they had been originally, a large blue ball of plasmatic energy discharging in a wide field as the ground around it was consumed in the fiery blast. The flash was bright, but enough to be totally blinding, allowing Marcus to continue sprinting in the direction he had chosen. A good thing too, as he also heard the colossus' machine gun begin to spin up, followed by the repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk as it fired, raking the ground behind him as it turned slowly to catch up with his speed; despite its immense firepower, the colossus failed in the area that the YMIR mech did; it was too large and cumbersome to turn fast enough.

The colossus began to turn around as it moved to follow him, its machine gun refusing to let up its onslaught as round after round pounded after him. Marcus on the other hand just kept running, knowing that if he stopped for even a second, that HMG would tear through his shields and reduce him to randomized, unidentifiable slabs of meat.

Luckily for him, just as the colossus finished its first turn, it stumbled. Its shields flared brightly as it registered the impact of a projectile, and its machine gun ceased fire, head turning around to address the new threat. Able to stop running, Marcus quickly ceased all forward movement, turning to watch as Kal emerged from the trees, firing his centaur non-stop into the giant geth tank.

Even before it finished turning to deal with Kal, the colossus was already charging up a new siege pulse burst, and without even waiting, Marcus quickly and quietly ran towards the colossus, formulating a plan in his head. He figured that unless they got under its shields, Kal's centaur was only going to annoy the colossus, not kill it. The only way to penetrate these shields was with an anti-armor weapon, like the cannons on a Hammerhead or Mako tank. But lacking those, they were limited on options.

So they'd just have to get under its shields.

Still running, he holstered his pulse rifle and quickly grabbed at his shoulder, looking for the clasp to undo his grenade bandolier. He could hear Tali screaming at him to stop, but he didn't listen; he just kept running, hands finally finding the clasp of his bandolier as he blindly sprinted towards a death machine.

He heard Kal cry out, and looked up in time as he watched the quarian marine retreat into the trees, his form disappearing as a cloud of plasma erupted behind him, the column of smoke and heat blocking off all view of him. Following it was a burst of machine gun fire, which quickly sent Kal retreating totally into the trees, Marcus watching as the high-speed, pulsated bullets completely tore through the trees, sending wood splinters and bark flying in all directions. One tree exploded from the onslaught, collapsing onto its side. The heat from the plasma of the siege pulse was so intense that Marcus was forced to watch as flames spawned seemingly from nowhere, beginning to envelop entire trees.

The darkness was pushed away as the fire spread, and the colossus just continued to follow Kal along the treeline, giving Marcus time to close the distance between him and the towering mech.

Just as he reached one of the colossus' legs, Garrus spoke, "Marcus, Legion and I are almost out of ammo, and we're not even making a dent in that thing's shields. There's nothing we can do."

Marcus nodded, quickly grabbing his first bandolier and beginning to wrap it around the colossus' leg, "Garrus, fall back to the trees. Legion, do you have any explosive rounds?"

"Only one, Shepard-Commander," Legion replied.

"Load it into your rifle, and wait for my mark. When I give it, take aim at the colossus' optics and fire," he ordered, walking around until the bandolier was wrapped firmly around the colossus' leg. Only just, though; he could see the material straining from the tightening, but it would hold long enough for him to do what he needed to do. With a grunt, he clasped the bandolier, holding it in place.

"Marcus, just what the hell are you planning?" Tali growled over their private comm.

"You'll see, sweetheart," he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm, "It's going to be quite the explosion. I wonder if Joker'll can see it from where he is?"

"You are such a bosh'tet," she snapped back, but he could tell his words were having their desired effect.

"And you love me for it," he replied, grabbing his second bandolier and searching the colossus' underbelly for a place to stick it. Finding it in a piece of jutted armor, he quickly wedged the bandolier inside, making sure it was attached firmly before leaving it. With a grin, he moved over and primed one of the grenades in the first bandolier, before priming another in the second. With his job complete, he unholstered his rifle and began to sprint away from the colossus, which had, unfortunately, caught on to what he was up to.

"Marcus, run! That thing's onto you!" Garrus shouted over the comm.

The whirr of a machine gun spinning up reinforced Garrus' words, "Understood, Garrus!"

He came to a stop however, turned and brought up his omni-shield, slamming it down infront of him just as the colossus opened fire, high-impact rounds slamming into his shield. The impact and sheer force of the impacts staggered him slightly, but the force was becoming quickly overwhelming. He gritted his teeth, growling through them as he held his position.  _Any second now..._

And then like a blessing from heaven, the first blast came.

It was beautiful. The first blast was quickly accompanied by more as the rest of the grenades in the first bandolier exploded, waves of heat running up the colossus' leg. The geth itself screamed out defiance in its usual electronic cry as the first of its two rear legs was obliterated, bits of cabling and circuitry mixed with superheated white liquid from the blast and sheared armor plating flew into the air, propelled upwards by the blast.

The colossus fell backwards, its weight unable to be supported on three legs alone. But before the geth could even assess its damage, the second bandolier exploded.

This time, the blast and force was so great that the colossus was airborne for a mere second, before slamming back into the ground with a loud quake. Its entire underbelly was shredded, pieces of armor melting off while others were simply twisted or blown off, with white liquid cascading into the air in tall fountains, as if reaching up to the sky.

Legion did not need his signal; it must have understood. The first set of explosions was to immobilize the colossus, while the second was to destroy its kinetic barrier generators; he did not know where it was, but the explosion was large enough to cover all bases. With its shields down, its optics were now vulnerable...

The shot came quickly. Before the colossus could charge up its siege pulse again, a shot slammed into its head, piercing deep into its optics before detonating, the interior detonation causing the head to explode like a ripe fruit. When all was said and done, the colossus' head was totally missing, along with most of its neck. Now headless and with no software to control it, the colossus simply slumped, its dead body slamming back into the ground with a large tremor, the fearsome tank now being no more.

When the silence enveloped them again, it was Kal who spoke up, "Sir...you are one hell of a crazy bosh'tet."

Marcus just laughed as he deactivated his omni-shield, regarding the destroyed powerhouse infront of them. After all that was said and done, they'd actually done pretty well in that fight, "Thanks, Kal. Compliments are always appreciated. By the way, Legion...nice shot."

"The chances of this unit missing was...correction. We apologize, Shepard-Commander," the geth corrected, causing Marcus to frown, "You were...complimenting us. This appears to be a popular organic notion. We...thank you, Shepard-Commander."

_Ah...okay._

"You're...you're welcome, Legion," he stuttered, shaking his head. Be got to his feet quickly and easily enough, but the colossus' attack had really winded him, and he had no doubt he had bruises all over his body. Not to mention that shot that had grazed him earlier in the fight.  _I'll have to get Chakwas or Michel to look at it when we're back on the Normandy._

"Marcus!" Tali cried out, rushing towards him. In moments, he found himself wrapped in a tight hug, one that wasn't entirely unwelcoming. Before he could return it though, Tali retreated, shaking her head, "You idiot! Do you realize how stupid you can be, sometimes?"

Marcus just grinned, "You seem to love reminding me, love."

She visibly rolled her eyes, "Whatever, you stupid fool. Are you okay?"

"Just a bit winded," he assured her, tapping his visor to hers, "Nothing too serious. I'll be fine, don't worry. That colossus barely touched me."

"As long as you're-"

A rumble of engines reminded them they were not out of trouble just yet.

"Oh for fuck sake!" Marcus growled, spinning to see the dropship. There was no sight of it, on the horizon, which must have meant it was coming towards them under cloak, "I have just about had enough of that dropship!"

Just as the words left his mouth, the dropship appeared, dropping its cloak to unleash a hail of missile fire. Marcus, before he could even react, found a three-fingered hand gripped in his before he was yanked away by it, Tali dragging him towards the trees. It took a moment before his legs properly reacted and he ran beside her, the two of them letting go as they both sprinted for the trees.

"I don't think this dropship is here to deploy troops this time!" Garrus shouted, Marcus turning to see the turian also running for the trees, Legion not far behind him.

"Good," the spectre shouted back, bringing up his comm to the shuttle, "Because this ends... _now_."

They reached the trees just as the dropship unleashed another salvo, this one impacting the trees nearby. The explosion destroyed several more trees, the blasts further augmenting the flames that were already licking at the savannah.

_These trees aren't going to be safe much longer. We'll burn to death before the damn dropship kills us._

The dropship itself was unrelenting in its assault, proving Garrus' assertion right; the ship had no further forces to deploy, and was likely here to hold them down until more could arrive with proper reinforcements. And Marcus knew that any further assaults would be the death of them.  _This needs to end._

It wasn't long before his comm to the shuttle connected, and Cortez's voice filled the line, "How's it going over there, Captain?"

"It's a fucking shitstorm over here, Cortez!" he snapped immediately, desperate to be heard over the fourth salvo to be fired, the explosions not only too close, but unbelievably loud. Only when the sound subsided did he speak again, "We need that dropship gone, Cortez! Can you assist?"

"You bet your ass I can," Cortez replied, the sound of a haptic interface being fired up easily heard. When he spoke again, the man's voice was distant, "Keeling, you better get ready! Prepare for a hot extraction!" the voice then returned to normal, now addressing Marcus, "ETA one minute! We'll be there soon; just hold on! Cavalry's comin'." With that, Cortez cut the line.

"Everybody, bunker down! We've got backup incoming!" Marcus barked, quickly bringing himself to sit down behind a tree, leaning his back against it. He quickly holstered his pulse rifle, knowing he would not need it. Tali ran past him and leapt to land behind another tree several meters nearby, trying to make herself obscure. All around, survivors and squad alike followed their example, and soon, they could only sit there and listen as things exploded all around them; trees combusted into flames, dust flew into the air and wind was forcibly removed from its location as the explosion sent plumes of it blowing into their faces.

Marcus looked out at the dropship, which was simply sitting there in a stationary position, firing its missiles continously, uncaring for could be coming for it. It knew they had nothing to take it out with, with the last of Kal's centaur rounds used up on the colossus, which meant the dropship could sit there lazily and take potshots at them for as long as it liked until it ran out of ammo. And by the time that happened, more would have arrived.

The dropship's glory didn't last however. The unmistakable sound of a kodiak shuttle's engines could be heard in the distance, which quickly intensified. The dropship must have realized this, as not two seconds after the sound was heard, it attempted to enter a strafing maneveur, but by then, it was too late for the aircraft.

The first molten tungsten shell slammed into the dropship's side, tearing through it and out the other side like its armor was made of tissue paper, causing the dropship to falter in its position, shaking slightly from the blast. Flames licked at its side and at the entry holes, quickly consuming the interior of the vessel.

Another shot pierced it through the front, causing even more damage. Finally, a third shell tore through its middle. It must have impacted the dropship's main reactor as the resulting impact concluded in a bright, piercing white flash, which was followed by the loudest explosion of the night. Trees twisted and leaned dangerously to the side as the massive air expulsion from the blast blew at them. Everybody was knocked to the ground as they watched the fiery remnants of the aircraft slam into the ground, nothing but fire and debris to show for its existence.

After a brief moment, Cortez's kodiak shuttle replaced the dropship in its orbit, hovering for a moment before moving slightly off to the side and landing, its hatch sliding open.

Marcus got to his feet, watching as Keeling immediately stormed out, her Valkyrie rifle aimed and ready. Seeing no hostiles, she quickly lowered it, nodding to her commanding officer.

Confident the area was now clear, Marcus turned to the group, nodding with a wince as he held his side, "Everybody, pile onto the shuttle! We need to leave before reinforcements get here!"

The group didn't need telling twice. Like rabbits fleeing a fire (which in some respects, they were, noting the flames that were eating across the savannah rapidly, lighting up the night sky like bright beacons), the entire group erupted from the trees, his squad remaining professional and joining Keeling as they made sure the entire area was secured. Only once Koris and the three remaining survivors were onboard did his squad get onboard. Marcus was the last on, still wincing from the bullet's grazing on his side, managing to shut the hatch on his way in before plopping down in the seat beside it.

He felt the shuttle lift into the air, before suddenly shooting into the sky, leaving Rannoch behind as it moved up into the atmosphere, stealth drive ensuring that the geth would detect them escaping.

Tali was instantly at his side, dropping to her knees as she began feeling around the entry wound. She poked at it, watching for a response. When she saw him flinch slightly, she shook her head, reaching up and removing his helmet as she tsked him, "You stupid idiot. You are hurt! Why didn't you tell me when I asked you?"

Reaching up a hand, he rubbed at his face, shaking his head, "Because it wasn't important, and wasn't that bad. All it needs is some medi-gel, Tali. You need to stop worrying."

"It's my job to worry about you," Tali whispered, grabbing her own packet of medi-gel as she began to apply it to his 'wound,' doing it with tender, loving care.

He nodded, sighing as he stroked her cheek, "Well you can stop. Alittle bit of medi-gel and I can walk it off."

Tali just continued to apply medi-gel to his wound, but he knew she had not stopped worrying about him. She never did. It just made Marcus remember why he loved her so much, and that he was lucky to have her for a wife.

As the shuttle continued to elevate into Rannoch's atmosphere, Marcus looked up, and his eyes locked with those of Koris'. They looked at each for awhile; the understanding in their eyes, the apprehension, as well as mutual thanks. Koris was grateful for Marcus saving his life, and in the end, that was all that was needed.

But the losses had been great; he had no doubt this greatly affected Koris. The loss of one's entire crew while fighting geth and seemingly stuck on a hostile yet familiar world with no hope of rescue or escape would no doubt hinder one's resolve, and Koris had lost all but three of his crew. Being the captain of a ship, he had no doubt this would scar Koris till the end of his days.

But Koris also understood the necessity of his own survival; that it was necessary for the continuation of the Fleet. Sacrifice the few to save the many.

As Koris looked away and Marcus looked back to Tali, he sighed heavily, hoping that it would all be worth it.

It better be.

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_1929 hours._

_Medical Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Medical Officer Karin Chakwas, Assistant Medical Officer Chloe Michel._

As Marcus sat on the edge of the bed, he reached up and stretched his arms, waiting for a satisfying pop and crack before dropping them, rolling his neck to produce the same result. At that point in time, most of his body still ached from the operation back on Rannoch, but thanks to his cybernetics, he was recovering better than most would be. For instance, the graze across his hip had already healed over; all thanks to his body's regenerative abilities.

The only reason he was still here was because Chakwas and Michel insisted on running tests on him, which he guessed was understandable. The medical officers aboard warships (at least in the Alliance Navy) were always required to run daily medical checks on the onboard crew, especially of the combat personnel. And it just so happened that today was time for Marcus' own checkup.

He sighed heavily as he glanced between the two women, watching them as they exchanged opinions, while also tapping away at datapads and omni-tools respectively. The two of them talked professionally, speaking in a bunch of medical jibber-jabber that Marcus both didn't comprehend and didn't want to comprehend. He just sat there as the words washed over him, waiting for them to let him go so he could get some more work done.  _There's so much to do. I've got one war to end, another to fight._

Tali had seen him to the medical bay herself before leaving, having to attend a meeting of the admirals in the War Room. The entire Admiralty Board was present, including Gerrel, albeit through vidlink, as Marcus was still adamant about not letting him aboard after the geth super-dreadnought incident. He didn't know the details, but he garnered that the meeting was to bring Koris back up to speed on what had been happening while he was marooned on Rannoch; a recap, if anything else. Tali had promised to see him later when the meeting was finished.

As for the survivors of the Qwib Qwib...the three of them had been persistent about remaining by their captain's side, but Koris had made it clear that with the Qwib Qwib gone, Koris was no longer a captain, as he had no ship to command. The three quarians had eventually given into its logic, and all of them were reassigned to the Tonbay; Shala'Raan's flagship. What Koris was going to do without a ship to command was beyond Marcus, but at the moment, his mind rested on other things.

_We've saved Koris, but now what? We just sit here until we can locate this signal? That could take days! While we sit here, the Reapers are still overunning the galaxy! We should be out there finding the catalyst, not playing around with the quarians and the geth while we sort their petty fucking problems!_

He sighed, inwardly cursing himself at the manner of which he thought.  _Get yourself together, Marcus. Securing this particular alliance could be the most important of the war. Sure, the krogan carry most of the ground-based muscle, but what about in space? If the quarians and the geth combine their fleets, they'd easily be able to outfight the asari, turian and salarian navies combined! Not to mention the geth have goddamn plasma-based weapons, which is by far superior to the magnetohydrodynamic superheated tungsten-based weapons of the Reapers. That, and they have cloaking for their ships to boot! The geth are the only ones who can understand how the Reapers think at a machine-based level, and the firepower they have is a large bonus! Besides, I can just imagine a platoon of geth primes chewing up an entire horde of husks by themselves._

_And imagine that platoon of primes supplemented by quarian combat engineers..._

The possibilities were endless. And all he had to do was get the two of them to see past their differences and work together; which would mean the geth giving the quarians back Rannoch, and in return, the quarians forgiving the geth for the First Morning War.  _No easy feat..._

_And we can only do that once the geth are free of the Reaper signal. Which means...we can't do shit yet. Have to wait for Legion to locate where the damn thing is first._

It was then that his thoughts drifted back to his wife, Tali.  _She just went through alot of shit. She's finally able to see her homeworld, and she spends most of the trip there killing geth while rescuing a high-value asset. Doesn't leave much time for sight-seeing, unfortunately._ He had no doubt she was reeling from that fact, but would look forward to seeing Rannoch again when they went back.  _And I swear we'll go back. We have to. When this little war is finished, I'll take her there myself._

_Always work before play, though. And we are sort of fighting for survival; there's that too. Haven't forgotten that we're sort of in the middle of a galactic genocidal machine apocalypse._

_A holocaust, except this time it was giant, sentient star dreadnoughts looking to wipe out all galactic life in existence. And they're winning._

_And they'll keep winning if I don't resolve this stupid little conflict!_

"Marcus," Chakwas' voice snapped him from his thoughts, causing him to look up to see Michel and Chakwas looking at him expectantly, "You with us?"

 _Damn it, should have been listening._ He licked his lips, nodding slightly, "Sorry, I was just thinking. Running some scenarios through my head. So am I good to go?"

Chakwas nodded, looking satisfied with his answer, "I'd say so. Your cybernetics aren't acting up, your scars haven't come back, and its clear your regeneration abilities are still active and working. You haven't shown any signs of sickness recently, have you?"

"Not so much as a runny nose," Marcus replied instantly, slapping his hands on his knees, "Fit as a fiddle."

"Then you're perfectly fine, as I expected you would be," Chakwas declared, deactivating her omni-tool as she returned to her red-headed assistant, "Do you agree, Doctor Michel?"

"My scans haven't picked up anything different, and you've certainly got more experience with his cybernetics than I do," Michel replied, her heavy Russian accent dripping through in her voice. Eventually, she shrugged, switching off her own datapad and crossing her arms, a broad smile covering her red lips, "So from what I can see, he's completely fine. In perfect shape for a soldier."

"Then I guess that's it then," Marcus stated, moving to stand up, feet dropping onto the deck as he straightened his legs and back, hearing them crack and pop as the stiffened muscles gave their release, "I'm free to go?"

"Well, we don't have any reason to hold you back," Chakwas remarked, grinning slightly, "Although, I do believe you owe me a drink. A glass of my Serrice Ice Brandy, I believe."

He widened his eyes at her for a moment, before relaxing, "Wait, really? It's been a full year already since we last shared a drink?"

"No, it hasn't," Chakwas admitted, rubbing her forehead as she turned back to her desk, reaching for her liquor cabinet underneath, shifting her chair out of the way to reach it, "But I think it would be worth it to have it now. We never know what tomorrow brings, and I would rather have it now than never."

 _She doesn't think we can win. Or she does, and she just doesn't think we'll survive long enough to see victory._ The thought brought sadness to him, but he quickly swept it away, walking over to place a hand over Chakwas', stopping her from moving. She looked up at him, having ceased all movement.

He simply smiled down at her, "I appreciate the thought, Karin, and I look forward to the next time we share that bottle, but for now, save it. Save it for victory. Save it for when the Reapers are destroyed, Cerberus is dealt with and we can all rest and celebrate."

Chakwas seemed to regard him for another moment before nodding, closing her drawer as she shook her head, standing back up, "Of course, Mark, you're right. I know you won't fail us, I was just...I was just getting sentimental. I'm an old woman, I'm sure you can forgive me."

"We've been through alot, Karin," he reached up and gripped her shoulder, squeezing it as he smiled warmly at her, "You were there for me when I had to sacrifice Ashley on Virmire. You stood by my side even when we all risked court-marshall for stealing this ship. You were on the Normandy as it took out Sovereign with the killer blow. You survived the Normandy's destruction. You saved Tali after Peta's attack, and put up with my shit after the Bahak Incident. And you still stuck by the Normandy even as we were grounded. Karin, you were abducted by the Collectors and came out no worse for wear. We will survive this. We all will. And when this is all over, I will gladly share that drink with you."

Karin smiled at him, nodding, "And so will I. I'll make sure to keep it cold."

He grinned, chuckling to himself slightly as he let his hand retreat from gripping her shoulder, "Just one thing though; when we do share that drink, I want it to be on a sunny day where we can kick up our feet. I also want there to be a good view of some Reaper corpses."

Chakwas shook her head, sinking into her chair as she rolled her eyes at him, " _Men_. You'll never change. I guess Garrus will be there?"

"Of course," Marcus chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "And I'll leave a spot for Wrex, too. Nothing like an horizon made of dead Reapers to complete the day."

Chakwas just shrugged her shoulders, laughing halfheartedly, "Then...leave a seat for me, Mark! I'll enjoy the view with you."

"I'll be sure to join you," Michel added, laughing.

Marcus nodded to the two doctors, making his way towards the doors, "Well, I'll leave you two to it. I've got some wor-"

Before he reached the doors, they opened, revealing Tali and Koris waiting to be granted access. Marcus turned to address the visitors, and smiled upon seeing Tali.

The quarian admiral did the same behind her mask, and after sharing a brief hug, they pulled apart, Marcus tapping his forehead against her visor.

"How did the meeting go?" Marcus asked, looking up at Koris, who to his credit remained quiet during Marcus' exchange with his wife, "I'm sure you've been brought up to speed?"

Koris gave a simple nod, his posture remaining unchanged, "It would appear alot has happened since I crashed the Qwib Qwib, and yet so little. I'm glad Gerrel's little charge actually destroyed the super-dreadnought, otherwise my crew's sacrifice would have been for nothing. The moron should never have led the charge from the beginning."

 _On that, we can agree_. He nodded to the admiral with a look of sympathy, "I'm truly sorry for the loss of your crew, Admiral. If we had gotten there sooner we could have at least-"

Koris was having none of it, raising one hand to forestall Marcus' apologies, "You have no need to apologize, captain. You saved my life, and likely saved the Migrant Fleet for the second time in this war in the process. The Civilian Fleet was on the verge of total anarchy when I arrived. I only just managed to rally the captains and persuaded them from fleeing," the admiral shook his head, gulping, "As for my crew...you couldn't have gotten there any sooner, I know that. The time difference would have remained the same. My crew would have died all the time. You did what you could."

"I..." he tried to object, but given Koris' look, the admiral's opinion seemed to be set in stone. With a final nod, he obliged, motioning for them to walk into the mess hall so the doctors could be left to their work. Stepping outside, they found themselves a seat at the mess hall table; Tali and Marcus sat on the right side, beside each other while Koris opposite them. The admiral looked surprised when one of the human crew members, Crewman Hawthorne, saw the quarian approaching and immediately stood up, straightening his posture and offering a snappy salute, "Admiral, sir!"

Koris stood frozen for a moment before breaking out of his haze, returning the salute, albeit slightly less formally, "I...at ease...soldier?"

Marcus smiled slightly, and turned to Hawthorne, who had now dropped his salute hand, "Its okay, Hawthorne. Koris isn't actually military; quarian admirals don't work like that."

"Oh," Hawthorne seemed to blush, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry for the misunderstanding, sir...I mean...Admiral."

Koris just awkwardly nodded. Seeing that Koris was looking to take a seat, Hawthorne snatched up his food tray and drink and shoved it to the side, taking a seat infront of it, "You can have my seat, admiral. I'm back on duty in a few minutes, anyway."

"I...thank you...Ensign," Koris replied, taking the proferred seat as he carefully pulled it out and sat down, sliding it back in again as he clasped his hands ontop of the table's surface.

Before Hawthorne picked up his burger, he shrugged, nodding, "No problem, admiral." He then promptly bit into his burger, having been looking at it with intense hunger.

"Damn," Marcus had watched, and suddenly, as if triggered by the sight, his stomach grumbled, demanding sustenance, "I could do with some food myself."

"Me too," Tali instantly added, looking to Koris, "Would you like some food yourself, Admiral?"

"No thank you. A...a glass of water would be nice, though," the admiral concluded, looking to be overwhelmed by this sudden hospitality.

Before Marcus could even stand, Gardner was already shouting from the kitchen, "Some steak and chips, coming right up, captain! Just hold on tight and I'll get you the goodies in a second. Some nutrient paste for Mrs. Shepard? Or would you like something abit more appetizing?"

"Nutrient paste will be fine, thank you, Mess Sergeant," Tali chirped happily.

"Please, the name's Rupert at this point," Gardner yelled back, before returning to silence as the smell of food cooking began to permeate the room.

Marcus turned back to Koris, letting out a long sigh, "So...what ship do you think you'll be assigned to when this is over?"

Koris shook his head, making no motion to move any more than that, "I won't be. At least not for the duration of this particular conflict; like Raan and Xen, I'll be remaining onboard the Normandy to oversee operations for the foreseeable future. After that...I do not know, captain. Perhaps I will find myself a new flagship. A pity...I was quite proud of my ship."

Marcus didn't bother to mention the admirla's choice in ship name, as he was sure Koris had been ridiculed more than enough time for it, but he could also understand Koris' sorrow; Marcus had felt the same way about losing Normandy SR-1, and still felt the same; after all, the SR-2 was a great ship, but it still wasn't the SR-1.

_The SR-1 was there at the beginning. The SR-1 destroyed Sovereign. The SR-1 saved us from Virmire. And its the SR-1's body that lies buried on Alchera. This ship will never be quite the same._

But with Koris, there never would be a second Qwib Qwib. His ship was gone, forever.

Marcus nodded, "I understand how you feel, Koris. I lost the Normandy once, along with alot of its crew. Of course, I got my ship back, bigger and better. But I still know what it's like to lose a ship you have alot of pride in. That you've put your soul into. And losing the crew is even worse...I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Koris nodded, sighing lightly, "Thank you. Still, it is good that I remain unmarried. I do not think I could bear losing a wife as well. I will never forget my crew, or my ship, but I can move on. My people need me, of course. And I will do my duty by them. As any good admiral should."

Marcus regarded his words carefully, gulping as he nodded to them, "Yeah, you're right."

But in his mind, another battle raged.

_"And I will do my duty by them. As any good admiral should."_

_"...as any good admiral should..."_

_Yeah..._

_**A/N:** _

_**A lazy way to end a chapter, I know. But I figured you guys had waited long enough.** _

_**Next chapter will be a interim or straight to business; the geth server mission. The entire plot of that mission will be changed drastically however; you'll see why, and hopefully you guys will like it.** _

_**I've seen a large drop in reviews. This makes me sad. Why you no review?** _

_**If you're there, please drop a review. Let me know I've still got a reader base. Aside from you Myron, whose reviews are always appreciated, and dividing MDH, who likely understands how quickly shit can hit the fan when you're busy. XD** _

_**Anyways, I look forward to seeing you next chapter!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers! Or should I say,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	46. Never Settle for Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and James spar. Peta narrowly avoids danger on his way to Rannoch. Legion displays signs of emotion that concerns Shepard.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE:**

**NEVER SETTLE FOR ENOUGH**

_July 8, 2186_

_1611 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy._

"Is that all you got, Scars?" the marine asked, a grin peeling across his sweaty face, "For a species of militarists, you have some pretty weak punches."

Garrus did not rise to the bait. His brief life in the turian marines trained him to not fall for an enemy taunt; they appealed to one's weakness to antagonism, and Garrus was far from weak. Instead, he let Vega's taunt fly over his head, beady eyes focusing on the human's face, mandibles twitching ever so slightly. What Garrus did appeal to was turian examination; analyze your enemy, associate their strengths with weaknesses, and deconstruct the threat rapidly and efficiently, as ruthlessly as possible.  _That_  was the turian way.

Garrus wasn't a very good turian, but he liked to think he did that quite well.

Currently, James stood infront of him, having assumed a fighting stance. He was shirtless, with only a pair of shorts saving Garrus from witnessing human nudity. Intricate tattooes aligned his upper torso, but none of it was as complete or elaborate as those on Jack. His olive skin glistened with sweat, which was not surprising, given that they had been sparring for a solid two hours. Several, lightly-colored bruises covered his chest, although he doubt James acknowledged them as anything but bug bites.

Garrus thankfully didn't have to deal with sweat, since turians lacked sweat glands to begin with. He also had similiar dress however, with a distinctive lack of a shirt covering his torso. He had taken off his eye piece, which was currently resting on a nearby crate, allowing both his eyes to see freely. He had assumed a basic turian combat position; not all that dissimiliar from a human one. One arm was held up infront of him, the other at his side in reserve, to give his opponent the illusion of weakness on his flank. One leg was held behind, allowing him the momentum to catch an enemy charge if need be.

Both of them stood in the middle of the shuttle bay, allowing them plenty of room to go about their exercise. It had been a spur of the moment thing; Garrus knew there was only so many times one could calibrate the ship's weaponry, or polish one's sniper rifle, or disassemble one's assault rifle. He had alot of built-up stress to work out; stress from the war.

James wasn't of a similiar mind, but he welcomed the fight, nonetheless. Garrus had no doubt the marine could beat the turian into a pulp if he so wanted; aside from Marcus, he was one of the most heavily-built humans he had ever seen. Thick bundles of muscle encroached around his arms and legs, and his chest looked tightened and firm. He was a tank, by all meanings of the word, and the armor he wore on the field did nothing to hide this; it only amplified it.

"You getting tired, Vega?" Garrus shot back, electing to fight fire with fire, "You humans with your sweat glands. I'm not even damp."

James just chuckled, "I'm sure you can get tired though."

"True," the turian bit back, solidfying his position, "But it seems you already are." To tell the truth, Garrus was getting slightly tired, but he wasn't going to let James know just how much. They had been going at this for two hours; there could be no doubt that both parties were tired, it was just a matter of how much.

James twitched, and Garrus knew an attack was coming; the human had a slight flinch about him, and it always gave away his intent. It was why Garrus was able to accurately predict where the attacks would come, and when.

A left hook swung towards Garrus' jaw, and the turian quickly brought up his left arm to counter it, feeling the bulk of the human's arm clash with his. Without waiting, he brought up his right and swung at Vega's face, hooking him just under his own jaw. The human grunted at the impact, and immediately disengaged, backing away sufficiently to recover. And like a hawk, Garrus was on him.

 _Never let the enemy recover. If they're tired, make sure they're exhausted. If they want out, make sure they leave in a body bag. Add pressure, crack them._ His drill instructor's words poured into his mind, Garrus swinging strike after strike into the bulky human marine, and each time the strikes sent James reeling back, who was unable to counter the ferocity and speed of the attacks.

One punch slammed into Vega's midsection, but like so many of the other strikes to that region, James barely acknowledged it, and did the unexpected; in moments, Garrus was reeling back, a huge pounding in his head.

 _Humans love to use their heads...usually not for thinking._ The thought made Garrus grin, and he ignored the pounding in his head long enough to strafe to the left, and James charged forward, a punch leading his advance. Garrus cleanly missed it, kicking the human in the shin as he moved past. The blow caused James to choke back a loud cry, now driven to one knee.

Before he could grab James in a submission hold, the marine reached up and sent an elbow launching into Garrus' gut. All the air was forced from his lungs at once, and he stumbled backwards slightly, giving James enough time to get back on his feet.

From his position, Garrus could see their spectators; Keeling and Kal'Reegar sat on a pair of crates near the shuttle. Keeling was standing, arms folded over her unarmoured chest, only a sweatshirt and pants complimenting her form. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her eyes watched the match unwaveringly. Kal sat on her left, legs hanging off the edge of the crate, hands clasped infront of him as he watched as well.

James thought speed and strength would allow him to win quick and easy; only just on his feet, and the marine was already throwing in a whirlwind of punches and kicks, desperately trying to whittle down Garrus' defenses in anyway he could.

Only the first punch got Garrus; clipped him across the mandible, causing him to hiss slightly at the small flare of pain, but he ignored it and quickly moved further backwards, avoiding Vega's elaborate display of martial artism. After Vega's final kick, Garrus was able to identify a small opening; he had overextended himself on the last kick, and as quick as the marine would be to compensate, Garrus was quicker.

A swift side kick slammed into Vega's stomach, and this time, the marine was launched backwards, the weight of the blow causing him to stumble. Now free to move again, the turian step-dragged back to the middle of the 'arena,' smirking at James as he cracked his neck.

"Back to square one," Garrus chuckled, "We don't seem to be going anywhere, Vega."

"Quick boasting, Garry," came an all too familiar voice from behind him, the turian turning to watch as Kasumi jumped ontop of a crate, hugging her legs in a fetal position, her hood pulled down and the thief giving a mock salute, "Oh, far be it from me to interrupt your little punch out."

"What have I said-" he cut himself short, ducking under James' next punch and quickly pinning the human's momentum against his leg, sending the marine toppling forwards. But James was well-trained, and he turned the fall into a combat roll, coming back up into a stance as he swerved around, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. He finished what he was saying to the thief, this time keeping his gaze firmly on James, "What have I said about that nickname? Or any of your nicknames? You know I hate it."

"Well, duh. That's why it's fun," the thief giggled, shaking her head, "Besides, I call Tali fishbowl and buckethead, and she got used to those nicknames. She doesn't even seem to mind it now. Trust me, give it time. It'll stick."

"Garry, maybe..." the turian grunted, shifting back as James went back on the offensive, using his conversation with Kasumi to steal an advance on Garrus' position, but the turian was having none of it. Surprising the human, he broke off his retreat and suddenly met the man's forward motion, sending a knee flying into Vega's chest. The human wheezed from the blow, with Garrus quickly following up with a straight punch to the face, causing him to stumble further back. Garrus just shook his head, taking time to breathe, "...but not...not..."

"Garbear?" Kasumi finished for him, and upon seeing Garrus' little nod, a large smirk crossed her face, followed by a mock look of sympathy, "Aw...does it bother you that much, sweetie?"

"Eh...sweetie?" Garrus grimaced, the word giving him worse shudders than a damn husk on a battlefield, "I think I prefer Garbear."

"Oh, you do?"

"Wait...I didn't mean-"

Before Garrus could finish his sentence, James recovered from the turian's attack and shot back up, striking out with a hard punch to the jaw. This time, the turian did not see it coming, and the blow hit him square in the right mandible, causing him to reel backwards as the strike hit dead center. Garrus felt his vision blur slightly as he stumbled, fumbling to keep himself standing after the blow. Discomfort welled up in that part of his face; a fiery pain that quickly dumbed down to a simple, but infuriatingly dull ache. The turian growled as he turned back to James, the marine looking on with a smug grin as he reassumed a battle stance.

James proceed wordlessly, lashing out with a series of small jabs at the turian's face. Garrus swatted them aside effortlessly, managing to focus all his attention on the marine, allowing him to ignore the pain welling up in his face. He had no doubt he'd have a bruise soon to show for it.  _Have to keep my guard up. I can't let James, let alone the actual enemy, exploit a weakness like that in battle._

James reached forward in an attempt to brute force his way through Garrus' guard, attempting to bash his way in using a series of hard, but quick, punches towards the chest. Garrus was no amateur however, and simply strafed to the side, utilizing Vega's forward momentum against him so that Garrus could reach up with a roundhouse kick to the back of the man's head.

A loud grunt could be heard, and James doubled forward, almost losing his stance. He managed to stabilize himself, but not before Garrus was upon him again, slamming a fist into the crevice of the man's back, before sending another across the side of his jaw; payback for the blow James managed to get through before. The human stumbled again from the twin attacks and, winded and tired, he was helpless as Garrus moved forward and rammed his foot into the back of his knee, driving him to the ground.

Wasting no time in neutralizing his adversary, Garrus quickly reached out and wrapped one arm around Vega's neck, the other holding his head as the turian leaned in, smugness laced in his tone, "Ready to give up, Vega?" He made to sure his sleeper hold to show the marine that this really was a no choice situation; the fight was over.

"I yield, Scars," the marine managed to grumble, much to the turian's ever inflating ego. Releasing the hold, he stepped back, slapping his hands together in a human gesture he had learnt from Marcus known as 'dusting your hands off.' He watched as the soldier stood up, his breathing heavy as he reached behind himself and grabbed a towel that had been hanging from his pants, using it to pat down his face and soak up the sweat that had collected there.

"That was some damn good sparring, Scars," the human complimented, running a hand through his hair. It was then that Garrus felt the exhaustion hit him as well, adrenaline rush wearing off and allowing him to breathe more heavily. He wasted no time in moving over to a crate to retrieve a bottle of water, even as James continued, "Turian military teach you to fight like that?"

"For the most part," he replied, turning to the crate holding the water bottles, only to find two missing. Looking up, he saw Kasumi sitting next to the bottle pack, holding out two of them. She grinned at him, Garrus taking the time to appreciate her uncovered head; raven black hair, smooth complexion, unique facial appearance that humans seemed to call of 'asian' ethnicity. After a moment, he returned to reality and he took the two bottles offered, giving her a weak smile before turning back to Vega.

He tossed one bottle to the marine, who snatched it from the air easily, unscrewing the top and bringing it to his lips to allow liquid heaven to pour into his mouth. Garrus did the same, prying open his mandibles and allowing himself to relish the ice cold liquid pouring down his parched throat. After a moment, he gulped down his mouthful, and continued, leaning against the crate behind him, "Alot of it was self-training during my days on Omega. And there was also the backup martial arts training that Marcus gave me during the Eden Prime War. I know one turian martial art, one human martial art from Marcus, and another human martial art I learnt by myself."

"Really? What were they?" It was Kasumi who asked this time, still situated on her self-proclaimed nest, "My people had many martial arts. Was it Karate? Kung Fu? Kenpo? Aikido?"

"Well, the one Marcus taught me was called Krav Maga," Garrus stated, taking another sip of his drink, "The one I researched independently was called Karate, yes. But I think I prefer your Krav Maga. Much more brutal, but effective...and straight to the point. I took a look at your Kung Fu, however..."

"Ah, that shit's too fancy. Too stylish. Not enough actual self-defense training involved," James dismissed.

"Sounds like Garry's kind of thing," the japanese thief remarked.

Garrus just rolled his eyes, not even turning to face her, "The turian one I learned was a martial art called  _taesavar_ , which is standard among all turian military, standard and Blackwatch. Not as elaborate as human martial arts, to be sure, and not as quick as the salarian  _erat_ , but it gets the job done in melee combat. I used some of it during our fight, but most of the techniques I used were human."

"I'd say we're starting to rub off on you, Scars," James grinned, moving back over to his crate as he picked up his singlet and put it back on, followed by his dog tags.

Garrus just shook his head, chuckling, "Its a very unhealthy transformation, I'll grant you. I'm being poisoned by primitive culture."

"I'd be careful who's culture you call 'primitive', Mr. Vakarian," Kasumi drawled, crossing her arms as she glared playfully at him, "I could arrange to 'misalign' some of your calibrations. And I do know how much you  _love_ those calibrations of yours."

"And our martial arts, apparently," Keeling snarkily added, speaking up for the first time during their two hour session.

"You all ganging up on me, now?" Garrus asked, still grinning as he squeezed the last drops of his water into his mouth, listening to the crunch of the plastic under his taloned grip, "Typical primitives."

"No need to fear these bosh'tets with me around, sir," Kal declared, leaping down from his crate to land tactfully on his feet, moving towards the center of the shuttle bay with a determined step, "Although I'd like to see how I fair against you, sir. My hand-to-hand's gone all to shit; haven't had much use for it against geth. I wouldn't mind getting the shit beaten out of me."

Garrus regarded the quarian marine as he tossed his now empty bottle onto the crate beside him, moving forwards with determination in his step. He had gathered his breathing sufficiently now, and he felt rested enough to actually fight again. It took alot to exhaust a turian, anyway, "Sure, why not? Although you don't have to call me sir, you know. We fought beside each other against the Collectors. You've earned the right to at least a first name basis."

"Not good with first names. Just ask Mrs. Shepard...sir," Kal replied, assuming a quarian battle stance; both hands up, but standing on their toes, allowing them better movement and making them lighter.  _Very smart._ Garrus assumed his turian guard position, cracking his neck in preparation.

"Better work hard at it, then. I hate being called 'sir.' Makes me feel old," he complained. He didn't lie; it did make him feel old. Kal was a general, and to be called sir by someone like him; made Garrus feel like a damn primarch. And he most certainly  _did not_ want to feel like that.

"Old? You? Of course not, Vakarian. Right as rain, you are," Kasumi giggled, shaking her head as she crossed her legs again, pulling her hood up over her head to soak it in dark mystery once again, "Although...actually, when you say it like that...I think I am seeing a few wrinkles on that scalp of yours."

"Primitive."

"Garbear."

"Shamless thief."

"Space batman."

"Just who the hell is Batman?"

"Hiding under a rock too, apparently," the thief smirked.

"Whatever," the turian dismissed, waving a hand as he focused on Kal, "You humans are just unusual creatures."

"And distracting."

"What?"

"I said we're distracting."

"How so?"

"How? Like that."

"Like wha-"

He wheezed as a pair of blows connected with his sternum, followed by one to the face, opposite to the one James scored. He stumbled, taken by surprise by the first salvo, and recovering his balance long enough for a foot to hit him in the ribs, driving all the air from his lungs in an instant. Garrus regained his composure immediately; a byproduct of his turian inability to show weakness. Looking up, he watched as Kal retreated, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The quarian just looked at him, and Garrus looked right back.

The quarian's eyes squinted.

_Wait...is he..._ _**grinning?** _

_Oh,_ _**now** _ _it's on, Reegar._

"Humans 1, Turians: 0," Kasumi clapped her hands loudly like an overly excited child, grinning from ear to ear as she bounced up and down on her crate, Garrus shooting her an unamused scowl. She just poked her tongue out at him, taking no notice, "Distraction is the key, Sweetie Garbear."

 _Great. Now she's combining nicknames into deformed hybrids. I_ _ **love**_ _and_ _ **hate**_   _that woman sometimes._

"So Reegar, what was that about wanting a beating?" Garrus teased, narrowing his eyes at the combat-ready quarian.

"That's if you're capable of it...sir," Kal returned in kind, step-dragging along the floor as he moved around Garrus' form, eyes focused totally on him. Garrus just followed his movements, unwilling to be encircled by the marine.

"Maybe you don't know what I'm capable of, Reegar..." he shot back, unwilling to be one-upped.

"We aren't going to find out by just standing here," the quarian steadfastly replied, and within moments, shot forward, dealing a trio of punches. Garrus snapped out his own arms to block the attacks, managing to do so with little to no pain on his side. Only the dull thump of two arms connecting was heard, and the resounding vibrations that followed the impacts could be felt.

Garrus didn't bother replying verbally, preferring to talk with his fists. He slashed forward with an uppercut, planning to follow up with a side kick to push Kal back. But the quarian was faster, and danced backwards to avoid the uppercut, keeping out of the turian's range. With his battle scenario ruined, Garrus ceased all movement and just stood there, orbitting Kal, with the quarian never failing to keep his eyes pinned on him.

_He's not like James. Vega fights like a krogan; thinks his strength will be the sole victor. Makes him easy to deal with. But Kal...damn it, should be obvious. He's a quarian; they've evolved to think with their heads and use tactics over brute strength. Their suits force them to. Going to have to think around that._

With this in mind, he step-dragged forward, just close enough for Kal to hit him if he decided to strike. But, ever the patient one, he did not budge, deciding against seizing the opportunity to attack. Garrus had to admire that.  _He's thinking tactically. He's got all the time in the world; he'll harass me, wear me down, and then reserve all his strength for when I'm exhausted and vulnerable._

_Only one way to combat that: don't give him the chance._

The two of them sparred for hours; trading blows, beating the living hell out of each other, exchanging banter. Their audience just watched, and steadily, although they hardly noticed, began to grow. Cortez joined James where Keeling was standing, the pilot having finished his routine check of the shuttle's engines and, while on break, deciding to watch the battle before him.

Ken and Gabby, accompanied by a grumbling Goldstein, had chosen to watch the fight as well, as all three of them had just finished their own shifts. Madi had managed to slip inside as well, after Kasumi 'accidentally' told her that the thief's boyfriend and Madi's husband were sparring. The quarian had shot down to the shuttle bay at FTL speed without even a second thought. Joker had managed to limp down to the bay as well; Chakwas and Michel's new medical treatments had made the pilot's bones slightly stronger, allowing him limited mobility. He still needed EDI to help him around, snarkily calling her his 'mobility assistance mech,' which is why she had also accompanied him to the bay in her new form. The AI had been working recently to find a way to synthesize and build Eva's original 'skin,' allowing EDI to look human, just like Eva had before the fire had burnt away all the skin. Although that progress would be slow; Huerta Memorial were still processing the cloned tissue structure needed to forge it, and would likely take weeks.

Even Javik, grumpy and as 'superior' as he was, and decided to join the ever growing audience, leaning against the armoury bench with crossed arms as he watched from afar, a look of impression on his four eyed face.

Eventually, the fight ended in a stalemate; Garrus had failed to defeat Kal, but similarly, Kal had not been able to break past the turian's defenses. In the end, they called it quits, both of them exhausted, acknowledged each other's skill, and shook hands on it. Breaking apart, Kal moved over to where Madi stood, her arms crossed and glaring at him. Garrus moved over to his own crate, retrieving a second water bottle and draining it ludicrously quick. As he finished it, he looked over to Kal, allowing himself a chuckle as he watched Madi fussing over him, while the marine attempted to insert an induction port into his own bottle.

"What are you laughing about?" Kasumi asked, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

He just shook his head, reaching over to grab his shirt, deciding he was done sparring for the day, "Nothing."

The thief wasn't convinced, "Mmmm...hmphh..." she mumbled, shaking her head as she leaped down from her position ontop of the crate, "Well, if this is all done, I'm just going to retreat to the Lounge. You know, grab a drink, open a good book, relax...not much call for thievery on a ship, after all."

In the time she took to finish her sentence, Garrus and put his shirt back on, retrieved another water bottle, and cracked his neck. Finally, he turned to her as she began to walk away, "Mind if I join you?"

She stopped, turning to him with a frown, "What, join me reading? What are you going to do, watch me reading? That sounds terribly boring."

"I might learn something," he grinned knowingly at her.

Kasumi just crossed her arms, not impressed, "I know what you're doing, Garry. Stop it."

The turian didn't even acknowledge the perversion of his name this time, simply shrugging, his grin remaining, "And...what am I doing?"

"Stop, Garry," she snapped back in reply, turning back as she moved back towards the elevator, "Purge those bad thoughts."

"Well, I am trying..." the turian attempted to justify, but his eyes quickly wondered downwards until they looked upon a certain target. When he saw it, his eyes remained fixated, watching it swing from side to side as the thief moved away, "And...now I'm not trying..."

He 'admired' the 'view' for several more seconds before his view was broken by the elevator doors sliding shut, causing Kasumi to disappear. Sighing, he tore his eyes away, grabbing the remainder of his stuff as he made ready to return to the main gun battery.

A voice off to his side, just as he cleared the armoury, caused him to stop, "This crew...all of you...it appears I have much more to learn about this cycle."

The turian turned with a sigh, nodding to the prothean who stood to his side, arms hanging at his side as he approached Garrus.

"What, learned something new today?" Garrus drawled, not in the mood to trade insults with Javik.  _I'm not going to put up with his shit today. "You're such primitives." Yes, we get it. You don't like us! You don't need to remind us every single time you walk by!_

"All these races cooperating," Javik noted, looking genuinely impressed, "It was something the Empire could not achieve. You are all individuals, with your own unique culture and military, yet you work together when the time calls for it. There is no sense of hostility here. During the Empire, only my people were dominant. There was no Council, no joint-species coalition. The other races either accepted our leadership and were assimilated, or challenged us. They either vanquished us and took our place, or were utterly destroyed or subjugated. It was survival of the fittest."

Garrus just snorted, smiling slightly, "Guess I'm glad we didn't have a species like yours during this cycle. Don't think I'd appreciate the asari ruling us like subjects or prized slaves."

"It seems that has proved to be your saving grace, turian," the prothean acknowledged, sighing as he rubbed the top of his scalp, "When my people waged war with the Reapers, we did not fight as a unifed force with the other races. We did not utilize different tactics or strategies. We did not work together. By the time of our war, there was only protheans. The Empire recognized only protheans, and there existed no other species. All others came to know themselves as prothean. Any doubts they had were gone, and they accepted what they were. We all used the same tactics, the same strategies. And the Reapers exploited this. Used it against us."

"Let me hazard a guess," the turian began in reply, pretending to rack his brain for said guess. After a few moments, he turned fully to the prothean, and spoke, "You were unable to adapt?"

"Precisely, turian. Once they knew our tactics and battle plans, my people were doomed. All our major military assets were defeated, indoctrinated or destroyed within the first few decades of the conflict. What was left was only desperate pockets of resistance. Some races tried to bargain with the Reapers in rebellion against us; like the Densorin. They were harvested first. Others that fought beside us until the end...did just that. Nothing remains of them now, I assume."

"Before we found you, ancient history assumed the protheans were the only species, let alone the only spacefaring species, in the galaxy during your cycle. There was no mention of other races. Yet again, evidence of your people's existence is scarce at best, let alone evidence of others."

"So I see," Javik stated, coming to stand inches from the turian marksman, "But it appears my people didn't fail entirely. After all, the asari may not be the dominant race, but appear to be the most advanced. Just as we intended."

That got Garrus' eyes to widen, "You intended for the asari to be the most advanced species? Why?"

"I only heard rumors. Remember, when I was born, the war with the Reapers was already in full swing. I don't remember what the Empire was like before," the prothean quickly placated, nodding. He looked at the ground for a moment, contemplating what he wanted to say, before looking back up, "But when the Empire was flourishing, my people...our scientists, our top researchers...watched over all the primitive species. All of which now seem to be part of your galactic community, save for some."

"What? Like the raloi and the yahg?" the turian asked, cocking his head, as he leaned against the console beside him, now fully interested in what Javik had to say, "You watched over them too?"

"The raloi were still senseless apes at that time; driven by instinct, not reason," the prothean dictated, "As for the yahg, they were still microbes; little more than barely living bacteria. There wasn't much to observe. Your races however..."

Garrus was more than curious.  _Liara will freak when she learns Javik talked to me, before her..._  "Do tell. What was my species like?"  _They don't go that far back in history classes...and I never attended my biology studies..._

A grin spread across Javik's lips, "Your species were hunters, like mine. My species used our sensory ability to hunt down prey and to absorb the knowledge of the terrain and of our prey's capabilities. Your people lacked these sensory abilities, but you were effective; brutal, more crude. The way you hunted down your prey; my people were quick and clean, you preferred quick and bloody. You trapped your target, closed in, and tore their belly open in order to bleed your prey out."

Garrus just gulped, chuckling slightly as he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well...guess that explains the talons, doesn't it?"  _I can't believe my people were once on all fours, running around Palaven, tearing shatha open with our bare hands. Now that I think about it though, it does explain why my species became so militaristic._

"Humans were quite similar, however, they had evolved further than your species when my people set up our observation posts on Agevar," Javik declared.

Garrus frowned, "Agevar? I haven't heard of that planet."

Javik scoffed, shaking his head, "Of course you haven't, turian. Agevar was my people's name for what you now call Mars. Agevar was the name of one of my people's greatest generals; the one who conquered the Thoi'han."

"Moving on..." the turian tried to urge along, not wanting to hear anymore on that front.  _Protheans conquered this, protheans conquered that...god, the protheans were total assholes._

"Humans were...unique. Smart," Javik began, looking almost unable to find a good enough way to explain what he wanted to say, "They were one of the first of the primitive species to design man-made weapons. They also walked on two feet, and were, in some way, intelligent, for lack of a better term. More than I can say for the salarians and asari. The salarians still ate flies, and the asari were still learning how to use their biotics and worshipping Ardat-Yakshi."

"Okay then. So long story short, we were all primitives. Got it," Garrus drawled, rolling his eyes as he stood up, making towards the elevator, "Thanks for the info."

"If there is one thing I can say for this cycle, turian," Javik began, speaking as Garrus stopped, turning to address the prothean one final time, "It is that your people have a better chance than mine did. The Reapers caught us offguard; you've known about them for three years. Your cycle...your cycle is the first to still have the Citadel. To still have a chance."

"Thanks," Garrus smiled, nodding, "And no matter, your people, and those before them, will be avenged. We're going to destroy the Reapers. End the cycle."

Javik did not give him a response, he simply turned around, moving over to one of the storage lockers where his particle rifle was kept; likely to work on it. Garrus just turned around and entered the elevator, hitting the button for Deck 3. And as the elevator began its ascent, Garrus could only lean against the back wall, narrowing his eyes in deep thought.

_If even the pessimistic prothean is telling us we can win..._

_...then our chances must be better than I thought._

**{Loading...}**

_Darkness. Always darkness._

_He feels his eyes open, but he still cannot see anything._

_There is a rustle on the wind. He can feel it blowing against his face; its bite is cold and icy. He winces away from it._

_He opens his mouth to speak, to yell out...but he hears nothing come out._

_He lifts one foot, taking a step forward._

_And like a match that is lit, everything explodes in a bright haze of light._

_Details he can make out in seconds as the darkness is instantly vaporized. Blank, hollow trees; their bark rotted and sap falling through holes in their dark skin. Branches snapped and swinging to and fro. The wind whistles through their hollow bodies. Some have leaves, others don't._

_The ground is dusty and foreboding; dead and unwelcoming. It is non-descript; only the odd pebble or snapped branch to mar its surface._

_He looks around; trees, nothing but the same, dead trees for what looked to be miles; an endless forest, unforgiving in its existence. All he could see was the same bland trees, the same dusty ground, the same damn pebbles._

_The wind blows past his face again, and once again, he winces from the icy bite._

_He looks up, but the sky offers no reprieve. As if blanketed by evil, grey clouds slither by, bleeding across the atmosphere like a cancer; infirming upon the forest its dark dominion. No light penetrates their cloudy commerce; only darkness. Blank, inky darkness..._

_He does not fail to notice the lack of sound. Only the wind and rustle of trees exchanges their greeting, with all other sound non-existent; dead silentium._

_He looks down upon himself, turning his hands over to look at them; he appears to be fine. He is in his officer's uniform, which appears to be straightened out and prestine clean. His hands appear unmarred from the terrain he inhabits. He brings them up to touch his face, and he is happy to know that he can feel it. He feels normal._

_But the cold; the bloody_ _**cold** _ _..._

_It creeps into his bones, conquers his greatest defense; all warmth retreats. Only the cold. All feels is the cold. It subjugates him. Controls him. It is what he is._

_For moments, he does not move. He simply looks around, confused; cold. He does not know what to do or where he is. One moment he is on the Normandy, and the next...he is here..._

_A scream. He hears it. His head snaps up, scanning the terrain, watching the perpetrator come into focus._

_She runs, terrified, her movements stiff and rigid. He does not know what she is; her form is inky and black, body seemingly made of gaseous spectres, striding through the air as if she rules it. As if she is a part of it._

_Her mouth opens to scream again, but when she does, it is not what he should hear. A blank hole opens where her mouth should be, extending to unnatural diameters as she let's out the sound of a thunderously loud airhorn; her body radiates a brilliant crimson glow, irradiating the entire area around her._

_**SHEPARD** _ _._

_He cradled his head, hands pressing firmly against his ears. He must keep the voices out. He must._

_**SERVE US.** _

_**SERVE US OR PERISH.** _

_The inky shadow fell to the ground, red blood exploding across the dust to enrich it. He wrenched open his eyes, still trying to shut out the damning airhorn...and then he saw it._

_The shadows creeped away, and in their place...the body of a female quarian._

_Shala'Raan._

_No..._

_NO..._

_"Shepard-Commander?"_

_He spun around, turning to face the stationary form of a familiar geth. There was a large hole straight through its abdomenal area, and a Widow sniper rifle collapsed on its back, a geth pulse rifle accompanying its side. Its glowing optics looked down on him, looking condescending...almost pitiful._

_"Shepard-Commander, help us."_

_His lips quivered as he watched it. There was something wrong; the air felt more suffocating, his lungs began to constrict as he looked at the geth, and he felt something rising._

_"Legion..."_

_"Shepard-Commander, we require assistance!"_

_He watched in cold, isolated horror as white liquid began to pour from the hole in its chest. Eventually, more orifices began to leak the unmistakable liquid, and as he watched, more holes appeared in its body; all leaking the same liquid._

_The glow in its optics began to stutter, flickering._

_"Sheparrrrddddd-Command-Command-Commandeeeeeeeerrrrrrr...heelp usss..."_

_Legion's light flickered one last time, and died._

_It fell onto its knees, white essence pouring from its body to soak the ground beneath its kneeling form. It looked at him one final time._

_"...do we deserve death?"_

_And then the sky above lit up with_ _**fire.** _

_As Legion's form collapsed, he looked up to watch as the sky caught on fire. Flames danced across the sky, seemingly igniting the clouds and sending brilliant bursts of fiery destruction rampaging across the air, feeding through the wind. He squinted at the brillance of it. He figured he had seen enough._

_What he saw pour through the sky made him open his mouth, and scream._

_Ships. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. All of them, falling. Burning. Exploding. Bits of wreckage rained down around him. They rained from the sky, lighting up the atmosphere, imploding upon the ground as they impacted. When they hit the ground, they did not cause a tremor or a bang; they exploded in absolute silence._

_Bodies fell from the sky; he could identify them without trouble. Quarians, suitless and suited, hitting the ground with enough force to reduce bones to shattered glass. Then they started coming in pieces; legs, arms, heads, and torsos...blood fountaining through the air in thick rivulets. He found his body quickly drenched in it, the feeling horrifying warm...relieving him of the dark cold that plagued his body. It leaked into his mouth, the coppery taste causing him to spit it out in geysers. He closed his eyes as it drenched his face, dampened his uniform, slid across his skin..._

_**SHEPARD.** _

_He continued to scream, his horror screeching across the stars._

_**SHEPARD. YOU HAVE FAILED. SERVE US.** _

_**SERVE US.** _

_**SERVE US!** _

_"Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."_

_Mordin..._

_"Do you think me and Brynn could join the Normandy?"_

_Of course, Jacob. Of course..._

_"Ha...that assassin should be embarassed. A...terminally ill drell...managed to stop him from...reaching his target."_

_You did good, Thane..._

_"W-w-why?"_

_He turned, still drenched in the blood of millions. Watching as ships continued to pour from the sky._

_He wrenched open his eyes and froze._

_She lay across the ground, her suit torn open across her chest to show the exposed skin of her stomach, now sheared and bloodied. Her intestines were spilled across the ground, leaking out from her opened chest, red blood having drained and stained her grey skin. No more blood pumped out for her heart had stopped pumping it hours ago. Her arms were splayed out across the ground, unmoving. One of her legs were snapped, with a bone having torn through the knee of the other, jutting out like a flagpole. Her veil was torn and ripped, but what truly made him weep was her face._

_Cold, synthetic and pitiless eyes looked back at him, glowing bright blue. Cybernetics ran across her once beautiful face, her skin twisted and torn where piping and circuitry had been buried into her face by force. Not a shred of her remained...only the bland face of a husk looked back at him._

_Tali opened her mouth to speak again, and what horrified him the most..._

_...was that the voice was exactly the same._

_"...this is you. All you. You could have saved us...you liar..."_

_No..._

_"You chose the geth over my people..."_

_He was finally allowed to speak, coughing out red, quarian blood as he did, "What? Tali, I would never-"_

_"Shepard-Commander, my people only defended ourselves. Do we deserve death?"_

_He turned around, looking at Legion's dead body, its optics turned to face him at an unnatural angle._

_"What? I don't understand...please don't..."_

_**IT IS OVER, SHEPARD. SUBMIT YOURSELF TO US AND BE SPARED.** _

_"No! I will not you take her from me!"_

_**You already have.** _

_And as he looked on, he remained rooted to the spot and helpless as the person once known as Tali'Shepard vas Normandy stood up, snarled, and leapt towards him, sinking her teeth deep into his throat._

_He screamed, the sound tainted with the gurgling of blood as it fountained from his mouth._

_**SERVE US.** _

**{Loading...}**

_July 8, 2186_

_1901 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Junior._

The world returns to him in an instant.

There is no dramatic erection of his body; he does not bolt up right, breathing heavily scanning the room with wide eyes. He does not scream, or call out someone's name. He does not beg.

His eyes shoot open, the world snapping into crystal clarity around him immediately. His body is drenched in a cold sweat, beads of it coating his body and soaking into the bed sheets. He breathes lightly, but no more loudly than normal. He takes a deep breath through his nostrils, containing himself, telling his mind that what he had experienced was not reality, but simply another nightmare. Another dirty, horrible trick of the subconscious.

But despite these reassurances, he could still here whispers in the back of his mind, but they were fading away.

_**...serve us...** _

_**...submit...** _

_**...be spared...** _

_**...serve us...** _

And like a windy breeze bringing itself upon conclusion, the whispers evaporated, vacating his mind. It was only then that he realized he was gripping the sheets more tightly. Looking down, he saw that he was close to ripping the fabric in half, the blood drained from his knuckles as he clenched the bed so tightly, his skin turning a deathly shade of bright white. He relaxed his grip, letting blood flow back into his hand, letting the sheets collapse like feathers back to the mattress. It was then that he felt something stir beside him. Realizing who it was, he closed his eyes in exasperation, cursing himself mentally even as they spoke.

"Marcus?"

He knew what was going to follow.  _No, I don't want to address...the nightmares. Not even with her. I can't...I don't want to...I need to ignore them. I can't let them win. I can't let them...control me. Dominate me. I must fight it. For her sake. For all of them._

He stroked her back, turning towards her as he pushed her against him under the sheets, "I'm fine, Tali."

"Don't lie to me. I thought we swore to each other never to lie," she scorned, reaching up a three-fingered hand to grab his chin and turn him to face her, eyes narrowed and scanning his expression. He made a concealed effort to hide his thoughts from her, but as per usual, it was doomed to failure, and she recognized the look of indecision on his face before he managed to hide it, "You are not fine. You're sweating, Marcus. You never sweat unless you have a bad dream. What was it?"

"It's...it's nothing. Seriously," he insisted.  _You were huskified...and you ripped my throat out...and the sky...oh my god, the sky..._

_"Do we deserve death?"_

Even now, Legion's words haunted him. They seemed almost prophetic. When the geth had voiced them, they seemed like words from memory, not ones he was just hearing. Almost like he had...he had heard the geth say them before.

"Damn it, you bosh'tet, I am your wife. We will lie here until you damn well tell me what is wrong," his wife persisted, a look of anger crossing her face, "EDI told me that this isn't the first time. She made it an obligation to tell me in secret that you've had these dreams at least a dozen times, always waking up like this. So don't tell me there's nothing wrong."

"They are only dreams, damn it," he snapped, regretting his action almost immediately. He sighed, rubbing his face as he tapped his forehead to her own, adopting a more delicate tone as he continued, "Look Tali, they are nothing to worry about. I just have...these visions. They don't affect my duties, and they won't effect how I talk to you. Can we just drop it?"

"Like the vision you got on Eden Prime all those years ago?" the quarian frowned, confused. Marcus, realizing the potential for this to cover his tracks, merely nodded, doing it more hesitantly to make it look more believable. This did not allay her frown though, only causing her to cock her head further into the pillow in befuddlement, "I thought you said that vision doesn't effect you anymore? That you stopped getting it after Sovereign was destroyed?"

He shrugged, breathing in through his nostrils again as he flopped his head back down on the pillow, looking up through the ceiling observation window out into the stars around them, "I did, for a time. But ever since the Reapers attacked Earth...the vision came back, Tali. And now it won't leave me alone." In truth, these nightmares...they were much different from the vision he got from the beacon. In reality, Tali was right; he had stopped having that vision upon Sovereign's destruction; he guessed that subconsciously, his brain must have realized that the source of the vision's "issues" had been dealt with, and that the vision was no longer required. Since then, it had not plagued him; gone to another part of his brain, or likely deleted by the Cipher that still occupied his mind.

These visions were different, these nightmares...and they were far worse. All they held was death, destruction and hopelessness...Reaper taunts, and visions of those he failed to save. Those he failed to protect. Dead friends. His failure to save Jacob, Tarquin, Mordin and Thane's sacrifices...and Legion's words. Those damn words.

_"Do we deserve death?"_

And the horrible truth of them that began to eat away at his mind; a horrifying epiphany that not only scared him, but made him begin to doubt himself. There was a connection between them all; a pattern, a rhythm. And the more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense; the constant Reaper taunts, the visions of friends and people dying...all to generate a sense of hopelessness. To wither down his defenses.

It was all too terrifyingly familiar.

_How could I tell her that? It would only make her worried. I can't let her know that I could be...compromised. That the Reapers may have...begun to break me. No, I can't let her know. And who knows? Maybe I'll last long enough to see this war end...to see the Reapers destroyed...to be freed of them..._

_**...serve us...** _

_Leave me, alone. I will never serve you._

_**...all of them do...you are powerless to resist...** _

_Not as powerless as you think._

Finally, he replied, turning his head slightly to face her, seeing the quarian propping her head up on one elbow, looking down on him, "I love you, Tali. I know...I know dealing with this, with me, has been rough. Having to put up with my shit...I just want you to know how much I appreciate you being so patient with me."

Tali just scoffed, lying back down, lying her head down on his chest, one arm splayed across his abdomen, hand running along his lines of defined muscle absentmindedly, "You were so patient with me when I was doing research for us...being together, so I figured it was the least I could do. Besides, when I married you, I knew what I was getting into; all part of the deal, you see. I'm with you, till the end."

He smiled, rubbing her shoulder, kissing her ontop of the head, breathing in her scent, "You were with me from the beginning, after all. One of the originals. You, Garrus, Liara, Kaidan, Joker, Chakwas, Adams...all we need is Wrex to complete the set. You guys never abandoned me; not once. Sure, Liara had her hassle with the Shadow Broker, and Adams had trust issues with Cerberus...but in the end, you still believed in me. All of you. You stuck by my side no matter how rough it got."

Tali just chuckled slightly, shaking her head, "Keelah, please don't get sentimental, Marcus. You make yourself look old, and as a result, I look old to. I don't really want to think about me having wrinkles and being unable to hold a shotgun."

He smiled warmly at that, but it was...uncertain. She didn't miss it, and she looked up, her chin placed on his chest, arms folded under her body, "I know that look; what is it, Marcus? What are you thinking about?"

He sighed, stroking her cheek as he wandered mentally, deep in thought. Eventually, he came to a conclusion he had been looking for a long time, "You know, Tali. I've been thinking about that; getting old. Can you...can you really see yourself growing old with me?"

Her eyes widened, and she slapped his chest, albeit lightly, "What kind of question is that?  _Of course_ I'm willing to grow old with you!"

"Tali, stop-"

"No, you let me finish," she insisted, waving off his interruption as she poked a finger at him, "When I first met you, I thought you were an angel from the ancestors. I was shot in the arm, scared and on the run. Fist's thugs would have raped me and killed me if you hadn't turned up and gunned them all down. You rescued me, and even after all that, let me join your crew. You treated me like an equal, like one of your own. You gave me a spectre shotgun, taught me hand-to-hand combat, and to top it all off, you made me what I am today. And then, when all was said and done, you told me you had feelings for  _me._ ME! The naive little quarian on her pilgrimage trapped in a suit, when you could have had Liara, or Ashley! You chose me!"

He just listened, not bothering to interrupt as he just lay back and listened to Tali's rant.

"And then, before we know it, Saren's dead, Sovereign's destroyed and we defeated the geth! I could have gone back to the Fleet! With the data you gave me, I could have had any position I wanted! But I chose to stick with  _you_. Right up until you...died," the memory was still sour on everyone's mind, but she shook it away, the memory no longer affecting her like it had, "I return to the Fleet, join the Neema, and for two years, I tried to move on; but I never could. You know why? Because I had bonded to you; my body, my soul, decided it wanted to be with you forever. I was the Heroine of the Citadel, Marcus! Or at least one of them! I could have had any man I wanted, any position I wanted! Instead, I chose  _you._ And when you returned, when you were shown to be  _alive_ , and you rescued me  _again_ on Haestrom, I knew I wanted to be with you. And then...that...that night before the Collector Base..."

He nodded, smiling slightly as he squeezed her hand, "Still one of the best memories I've ever had."

She smiled back, her smile having just as much warmth, "And then we got married...and Mordin, with his serum, allowing us to have a child..." it was then that, like two simultaneously thinking processors, they both turned to Junior, sleeping on the makeshift crib beside them, thankfully having not awoken, "I have to believe all these things happened for a reason, Marcus. That your God, or my ancestors...they wanted us to be together. We are a  _union of one._ We are Shepard."

She finally took a deep breath, leaning in until her face hovered just above his, "So when you ask if I want to grow old with you, Marcus, the answer should be obvious. I will be by your side no matter what happens; if we get seperated, I will always find you, or you me. If someone hurts you, I'll kill them. If you get captured, I'll save you. No matter what happens, we'll fight through it, together. We're unionmates; it's what we do. You're my soulmate. Will I grow old with you? Yes, I will grow old with you. Even if I have to battle Harbinger with my bare fists, I will make it happen."

He smiled, feeling a single, solitary tear streak down his cheek as he brought her down, kissing her full on the lips. They stayed like that, eyes closed, lips locked, for a several seconds before parting, and he just shook his head, weakly laughing, "Damn, Tali. All I asked was a simple question, not a fucking speech..."

Tali just giggled, eventually breaking out into laughter. Marcus eventually began to laugh too, the two of them locked together, laughing their hearts out, occassionally breaking their amusement to kiss or cuddle. It made Marcus almost completely forget about the dreams.

And the whispers. It's almost like they had disappeared.

" _Ni se'miel_ , Marcus," Tali whispered, reaching down and sucking on his lower lip for a moment, before parting.

He frowned up at her, "That didn't translate very well. What does it mean?"

She laughed, hugging herself tightly to him, "It means 'I love you'."

"Ah, does it?" he grinned, and noting her nod, he pulled her closer, "Well, in that case..." he moves until his head is beside hers, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, " _Ni se'miel_ , Tali."

Before either of them could advance any further, the worst sound in the entire world sounded through the cabin; the sound of a baby crying. No,  _wailing._

Both of them visibly cringed, husband and wife, father and mother, turning to the crib on the left of their bed, watching through the caged wooden supports as Junior cried and cried, tears drifting down his face as his arms and legs jerked everywhere in a torturous tantrum, letting his parents know of his discontent.

 _Easy to forget we're parents now._ Marcus mused, as he collapsed backward. Tali stood up, straddling him, the covers falling to reveal her usually naked body; unfortunately for Marcus, and fortunately for Junior's mental state, Marcus had introduced Tali to the word of 'clothing' seven or eight months ago, meaning Tali rarely came to bed naked now unless Junior wasn't present; instead, she wore a pair of black knickers and a matching bra. Even though Kasumi had insisted that bras were necessary for a girl to be 'girly,' Tali had insisted that she found the thing uncomfortable to wear, but eventually gave in for Junior and Marcus' sake; their son didn't have to see his mother's naked chest, and Marcus wasn't totally deprived of his wife's...assets, for lack of a better term.

She crossed her arms, glaring down at him, "You know it's your turn, right?"

He grimaced again, groaning as he held his hands to his face.  _Fuck. Forgot all about that..._

"Can't we just get a babysitter?" Marcus pleaded, pouting as he looked up at her. The quarian simply raised an eyebrow, and he elaborated, rubbing the back of his neck, "Kasumi, maybe?"

"Kasumi? I don't want my son learning how to steal before he's even walked yet."

"Yeesh. Harsh way to think of your sister, Tali."

"But true."

"Yes, definitely true. How about...Garrus?"

"Really?"

"What's wrong with him?"

Tali rolled her eyes, "Garrus would just place him on his console and continue calibrating his guns."

"Uh...um...damn, you do have a point?"

"Any more bright ideas for babysitters?"

"Uh..." he racked his brain for ideas, eventually landing on one as he looked up sheepishly at her, "...Javik?"

She just chortled, unable to contain herself. Even Marcus managed a grin, finding the suggestion slightly hilarious.

"What, so you want our child to grow up thinking his parents are primitives?" she laughed, shaking her head. Eventually, she contained herself, looking defiantly down upon him with a look of seriousness, "Marcus, you can't hide from it. You're Junior's father, and as parents, we must share responsibility. You know this."

"I know, I know," he placated, sighing as he moved to sit up, "Just me being lazy. I'll look after him. Although that's a bit hard with you...uh...you know...stradling me."

She nodded, giving him a quick kiss as he sat up, wearing nothing but boxers. She moved to get off of him, sinking back below the covers of the bed as she hummed in content. He simply glared at her, knowing she had made the sound to tease him. Turning away, he got up and was making his way towards the crib when the overhead PA suddenly connected, Joker's voice speaking through the comm.

"Hey Marcus, got a call coming in from Admiral Hackett," the pilot announced, "Says he wants to speak with you over the QEC. Wants a status update about the quarian-geth situation."

_We have been disconnected for quite a bit, I'll admit._

With a smug grin, he turns back to the bed, listening to Tali groan as she listens to the transmission. Still grinning, he makes his way over to the couch, retrieving his shirt and putting it on, followed by a pair of pants, "Copy that, Joker. Tell EDI I'll take the call in the War Room. It would also be helpful if the admirals were there. Make sure to leave Gerrel out of the call."

Joker's response was quick and to the point, "Already done. Joker out."

Quickly buckling up his pants, he turns back to his wife, still smirking, "Well, duty calls, sweetheart. Got to go."

Tali's response was muffled, and he only just made out what she was saying, the quarian admiral pressing her face firmly into her pillow. Junior just continued to wail, utterly persistent, "I hate you, Marcus. I love you, but I hate you."

"Love you too, Tali," he replied, snatching up his cap and placing it firmly over his head, "I've assembled the other admirals, but I'll tell them you couldn't make it. I'll see you later, then?"

His answer was a pillow lazily thrown in his direction, missing him by an inch, "Just go, you bosh'tet! Don't rub it in!"

He just chuckled, running up the steps and into the elevator before his wife got any more tactical ideas about how to neutralize her smug nemesis. Hitting the button for Deck 2, he simply stood back and sighed, readjusting his cap in the process.

Duty truly did call, unfortunately.

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_0600 hours._

_Cockpit, UT-46 Kodiak Civilian Shuttle, In Transit For Haestrom._

_The Reaper War._

_Private First Class Peta'Tasi vas Nedas._

The shuttle was moving at a sluggish pace, but it was moving fast enough. He predicted that he would reach Haestrom in one day if he kept going at this speed.

Of course, the shuttle he was using was really designed for FTL speed, and didn't even have a built-in FTL drive like the newer UT-47A Kodiak did (and even then, the UT-47A was strictly a military model, and couldn't be obtained by the civilian populace. (Even mercenary companies had failed to get their hands on it). This meant that his shuttle was stuck at FTS speeds, which were not nearly fast enough for proper travel, but it would do. But even still, FTS was still a considerable down grade from FTL, and his progress was slow. What would have taken a FTL-capable ship two days from the Citadel, was taking him three, and that wasn't even when using the mass relay network. This meant that his progress was slow, at best.

Luckily for him, he had managed to catch a ride with a freighter called the MSV Broken Arrow; an Athabasca-Class freighter of human design. Athabasca-Class freighters were quite similiar in design to the Kowloon-Class Modular Conveyors, who were extremely similiar in external structuring, but very different internally, performance wise and in purpose. Where the Kowloon-Class was designed for tanking or bulk cargo roles, the Athabasca-Class was far more flexible and could perform those roles, as well as operating as general cargo, multi-purpose, agricultural and reefer vessels. It also had thicker armor for dealing with pirate or mercenary raids, but lacked any form of proper armament.

The Kowloon-Class, designed and built by the human shipping company Broadstar Solar, did not have the greatest track record. Much like the Olympic-Class vessels of human history (with all but one of the ships finding itself on the bottom of Earth's oceans), the Kowloon-Class vessels had a history of defects; architectural flaws leading to easily avoidable hull breaches that kill entire crews, engine core leaks that lead to radiation poisoning, corrupted black boxes, faulty transmitters and so much more were just a list of things that went wrong with the Kowloon-Class during its brief five year use.

There was also the multitude of problems that occurred with Kowloon-Class vessels during the Eden Prime War that led to a superstitious stigma being placed upon them that they were cursed. The MSV Cornucopia was recovered by Alliance forces, for instance, and found that the entire crew had been turned into husks, prompting the marines to 'purge the crew.' The MSV Fedele had been used by a wanted salarian criminal named Doctor Saleon who dissected people and sold their organs. The MSV Majesty was raided by pirates and, because of its terrible black box software, noone could find out until many years later when the pirates revealed what they had done to it for publicity; they had raided it, killed the crew and sent it crashing planetside. The MSV Ontario was destroyed during a terrorist attack by biotic supremacists. The MSV Worthington was found with its crew all dead, having been killed by a mentally unstable captain. And the list went on.

And then a rival company, Galactic Railroads, developed the Athabasca-Class, which ended the Kowloon's brief reign. Confidence in the human shipping industry was restored with its commissioning, with at least fourteen ships having been built upon its launched, with an additional eighteen afterwards.

The MSV Broken Arrow, currently on a militarily financed supply run into the Voyager Cluster in an attempt to pull out UGC troops, was moving through the area, so he simply hitched a ride onboard Khalisah's shuttle. A shuttle of which he had to relieve from its...previous owner, largely through deception.

The freighter was part of a flotilla of ships heading into the cluster, extracting what was left of the UGC forces in the cluster after a disastrous campaign to hold the cluster against the Reapers. With the Voyager Cluster having fallen, it was time to pull out what allied forces were left.

When the ship entered the Voyager Cluster, he had departed on the shuttle, making best speed for Haestrom. And so here he was.

Peta sighed, the quarian lounging back in his seat, hands tucked behind his head as he stared aimlessly at the console infront of him. It glowed dimly, Peta having toned down the brightness to give him some darkness to think in. The intense, orange light made it hard to think; and it was extremely distracting.

Stealing Khalisah Al Jilani's shuttle wasn't his finest moment, nor was it his worse; but he had deemed it necessary the moment he realized what was happening behind the Veil. Khalisah had been his best shot, and he took it. Sure, it didn't help his people's already soured reputation, but at this point, Peta didn't particularly care. He hadn't been getting anywhere in his work with the Blue Suns; he belonged with his people, fighting for the homeworld. Even as an exile, they wouldn't turn away extra manpower, and Peta was more than willing.

As soon as he realized where Khalisah had been headed, he knew he had to take her shuttle; but first, he had to convince her he was in. So, they both boarded the Broken Arrow. The captain blatantly refused to take his ship into the Veil, but he was convinced to get them close enough for a one-day shuttle ride. But before Khalisah could join him, he took the shuttle and headed straight for the Veil. The freighter did not pursue; it didn't have the personnel, speed or armament for it, and it had other priorities that were more important than chasing down a quarian thief. He doubted Khalisah was at all happy; one, he stole her shuttle and, more importantly, or at least for her, she was denied her story. After all, the only reason she had been heading over there in the first place was for frontline information on the quarian-geth conflict.

Besides, Peta figured he was doing her a favor. Khalisah didn't seem like a war journalist, and getting anywhere near Rannoch with what was going on was definitely dangerous. He probably saved her life.

UGC intelligence reports dictated that the Migrant Fleet was currently situated in the Dholen System, licking its wounds after their swift victories were overturned by a staggering defeat when the quarians attempted to retake Rannoch. The geth had likely retaken most of the Perseus Veil at that point, but UGC info after that was sketchy at best; most of it was confusion at how a supposedly inevitable quarian victory could turn into a quarian withdrawal so fast. It made no difference to him; Peta knew exactly where he needed to go to meet up with his people.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he prepared for a nap. He had made sure to stock whatever dextro rations had been available on the Arrow, but the captain hadn't been able to spare much; alot of it was being saved for the turian and batarian forces fighting amongst UGC forces. But Peta was spared enough to survive his trip to Haestrom; at least 4 cases worth of nutrient paste and a few bottles of sterilized water.

Just as he was closing his eyes however, his console pinged. Opening on eye, he looked down to see that his sensors had just acknowledged that he had entered the Byon System, in the Sentry Omega Cluster.

Opening both eyes, he leaned forward as a new screen appeared on the console, with a stream of data taken from the extranet about the system streaming before his very eyes. Byon was a quadruple star system (meaning it contained four suns) with nine planets, four of them barely habitable: Fema, Nato, Uaso, Marco, Walto, Pero, Queto and Zeto. It also had two asteroid belts, and limited societal activity. Given that Sentry Omega was seated firmly in the Attican Traverse, this came as no surprise.

Even as he entered the system, his shuttle was already detecting a planet (well, more like a gas giant) within three hundred and eighty four thousand nine hundred and ninety-two kilometers of his shuttle. Marco, as it was called, was a Class III Gas Giant, meaning it was cloudless. The gas giant itself was a dull blue in color, and according to the sensors, temperatures within it were at least negative four hundred degrees celsius; seventy-two times colder than Noveria. And from the size of it, it was the size of four hundred Citadels.

The suns of the system varied; the main one was a hypergiant, while the next two were supergiants, and the fourth appeared to have degenerated into a red giant. It wouldn't be long before that red giant collapsed even further, and whether it went supernova, or collapsed into a black dwarf, was unknown. Peta left that bit up to the scientists to figure out. Either way, he didn't want to spend too much time in this system, in case he had just 'happened' to reach the system at the moment of its probable death.

His shuttle needed to pass through this system to reach the Hoc System, the most famous star system in the cluster due to the fact that he contained but one infamous planet: Virmire, the site of one of the most definitive and major engagements of the Eden Prime War, and one that many historians say turned the tide. After that, he would be one step closer to the Far Rim, and to his people.

And to Tali.

Yes, soon, he would be able to help his people, and to help the one he failed. The person he knew he loved, but needed to let go.

He leaned back once more, making sure to quickly make a few course corrections to ensure his shuttle didn't go crashing into any asteroids or planets on its way through the system, and closed his eyes, propping his feet up on the console, tapping his hip to make sure his Tempest SMG was still strapped to his hip before quickly dozzing off to sleep.

What sleep he got was largely restless and full of discomfort. He did not dream; all he got was the blackness of nothing to think about. The Reapers did not haunt him, warm thoughts of Tali didn't fill his mind, nor did any hopeful ideas about his welcome at home sprout into the four corners of his mind. All he had was uneventful sleep, but at least it was sleep. Not many got that during times such as this.

As soon as he was sleeping however, he found himself waking up, eyes droopy from being deprived of its rest surplus. His vision was blurry at best, but it quickly lessened when his console beeped again, rather loudly he might add.

Realizing that his shuttle would not leave him alone until he answered its demands, he sat forward, yawning loudly before turning to the console infront of him. Thanks to his tinted helmet and the lessened brightness on his terminal, it didn't hurt his eyes too much, and he was able to eye the chrono on the top of his screen.

10:12:46.

He frowned at that, but eventually squared his shoulders, deciding that four hours and twelve minutes was more than enough sleep. Quarians had grown used to having a lack of sleep, and as a result did not require as much of it as other species did, requiring only a maximum of three to satisfy themselves. It came with having to work almost restlessly to keep their ships intact. It made them intensely light sleepers, which is why the prospect of only getting four hours sleep (to most species, especially humans and asari, that was usually considered a 'restless night') did not bother Peta that much, but left him satisfied.

Looking down at his console to see what the fuss was all about however quickly killed any satisfaction he had, and left him panicking. The words on his terminal were crystal clear, radiating their urgency.

Evasive Maneuvers Required: Hostile Weapon Lock Acquired.

_Keelah..._

Was it Reapers? Had they invaded this system without anyone knowing? Or was he just a fool for not checking the news reports; had this cluster already been confirmed conquered without him knowing?

_No, no that couldn't be it! To reach the Veil, I'd have to get through batarian and Alliance space, which I knew was already largely Reaper occupied. I made sure to go through every news report, every available UGC intelligence article...I made absolutely sure to only travel through clusters and/or systems that weren't occupied or conquered by the Reapers. So this is either recent..._

_But why would the Reapers bother with weapon locks? Better yet, how could the shuttle even pick that up? Weapon locks are generated by the vessel's VI using an associative datalink between the corresponding IFFs of both ships, but that's only if the IFF is identifiable by the other VI; there is no way my VI should be able to identify a Reaper. And again, if so,_ _**WHY HASN'T IT FIRED YET? Why am I still alive!?** _

He quickly ordered the shuttle's basic VI to bring up information on the IFF of the ship targetting him, and within moments, the ship was identified.

He was simultaneously relieved and panicked. On the one hand, it was definitely not a Reaper signature. On the other, however...

...the ship was Cerberus. And by the looks of the IFF, a carrier.

Peta just sat there, frozen. He didn't know what to do. Sure, he knew there wasn't a Reaper about to blast his shuttle into tiny fragments, but on the other, he was being targetted by a ship that likely planned to blast his shuttle into tiny fragments regardless. That or, unlike a Reaper, it would choose to board his shuttle and capture him. And then what? Would they run tests on him? Or would they kill him once they realized he was a quarian?

_Scratch that. They'll probably just kill me simply for the alien part, not just for being specifically quarian. Pro-human bosh'tets._

For moments, he simply sat there, gripping the console before him, no longer sure of his ability to reach Haestrom to help his people. Was he really going to die like this? Wandering through a system, ambushed and destroyed by a simple Cerberus carrier?

He ran through his options. Two of them were largely hypothetical; one was to sit here and just let the ship destroy him, or to sit here and get boarded and captured, or shoot on sight when they realize he was an alien. The third option was to make a run for it; but would that even work?

His shuttle was civilian, so it wasn't weighed down by weapons or armor; that, and it was a Kodiak; there was a reason Kodiak shuttles were adopted by the entire galaxy as their main mode of transportation because they simply excelled against all its rivals. If he made a break for it, he had a chance.

But that was just it; his shuttle was civilian. It had no way of defending itself, and it was likely that only missile or slug was needed to reduce him to a rapidly expanding ball of cosmic space dust and wreckage. Hell, even if it was a combat shuttle, he wouldn't be able to fight back; only the UT-47A's had proper weaponry, and even then, it would be like taking a plastic shovel and expecting to dig through the side of a mountain.

That left speed; sure, his shuttle could easily outrun that carrier. Even at full military speed, the carrier could in no way match the velocity of the smaller, lighter and much more nimble kodiak. But would it really need that speed? All it needed was one, precision shot; and firing solutions made that very easy for warships. It didn't even need to use a mass acellerator round; a simple guided missile was all that was needed to destroy his shuttle. One shot, and he was one the casualty list.

In the end, he decided to make a break for it anyway. It was better than just sitting here and waiting to die, and at least he would go out-

He paused, after a moment. Relaxing his grip on the console, he let his hands fall to his lap, and simply sat there, listening. After a few more moments, he frowned, looking down at his chrono.

10:16:46.

It had been three minutes since the weapons lock was registered by the VI, yet the Cerberus ship still hadn't fired. Why? It wasn't a matter of range; if the VI could register the weapons lock, than the ship had to be within optimal weapons range; you'd have to be within range to calculate a weapons lock or firing solution anyway.

So why hadn't they fired?

Perhaps they didn't see him as a threat?

No, this was Cerberus. If they went based off what they saw as a threat or not, they wouldn't have gunned down innocent civilians during their attack on the Citadel. It was clear the militarized terrorist faction didn't care for civilian casualties, so that option was out. There had to be a reason why they hadn't fired on him, though.

After a moment, and based on a simple hunch, he ran a simple area-based scan for nearby vessels or other entities giving off eezo power sources that weren't natural. He initially ran it over a radius of one hundred thousand kilometers, but when that came up negative, he steadily increased it and increased it.

Finally, at five million kilometers, the sensors pinged back. But to his surprise, the sensors reported back  _seven_ seperate power sources, not just one.

This got him to raise an eyebrow behind his mask as he regarded the sensor readings.  _If that's the case, why am I not getting seven seperate weapon locks? Why only the carrier? Unless, they've got weapon lock switched off, but the carrier doesn't..._

But what were seven ships during in the Byon System? Yeah, the Sentry Omega Cluster had been the source of many colonization strategies, but they never had amounted to anything; the batarians hadn't tried to colonize it because to do so would force them onto the otherside of Alliance space, and would leave that cluster got off from the rest of the Hegemony. The Alliance and Council didn't colonize it due to two reasons: one, it was very close to geth space, and two, it acted as a gateway for mercenary companies and pirate gangs operating in the Terminus Systems to have access into the Traverse and Alliance space, which made colonizing anything in that cluster risky because they would be under constant threat from these organizations.

It was likely Cerberus used this reasoning as well, which meant the likelihood of Cerberus facilities in this region almost impractical. So why was it a battlegroup, or a task force more like, was sitting in this very system, defying all logic?

Were they perhaps planning an attack? What exactly was going on here?

Ever since his exile from the Fleet, Peta had developed a side of himself he never thought he would acknowledge; curiosity. He had always been a secluded, solitary man; a self-isolationist. He always came off as conservative and shy, and only when he had effectively orchestrated the attack on the Rayya a year ago did he realize he had a violent side as well. Only after stabbing Tali did he realize that violent side was a symbolization of his personal collapse; he was a man on the brink of collapse. By the time of his exile, it was too late to stop it.

Peta'Yala vas Huzzi had died long before his exile.

The new Peta was a very different person. Suffice to say, he took risks. He was more prone to violence, although his attack on Tali taught him how to direct that violent nature; to harness it and use it to hurt and possibly kill people who deserved it. It was honed even further when he joined the Blue Suns' ranks, the basic training helping him into becoming slightly more controlled. Peta would never claim to be a soldier, but he would certainly admit that he was a changed man. In cases, a twisted little abomination of what he once was.

But with his new found tendency for risks, came his new over abundance of curiosity. He had joined the Blue Suns because he was curious how it would help him personally aid the war effort and benefit the UGC. He was curious about the people around him, opened up to the world surrounding himself, and even acknowledged realities he had refused to acknowledge before.

The humans have a saying. "Curiosity killed the cat." In some cases, he would agree; curiosity in excessive degrees got people killed. Meddle in the wrong people's business, you could get hurt; worse case scenario, wind up dead. But sometimes, curiosity can save lives. Curiosity like investigating why seven Cerberus ships are lurking in a system that has attracted no marketable attention to it, and all but one of those ships has its weapon tracking turned off.

To that extent, the humans have a countersaying. A rejoinder.

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back."

Perhaps stopping whatever plan Cerberus is concocting could bring Peta'Yala back.

Which is why, against all logic and sanity, he brought his shuttle around, and set a course taking him roughly six hundred thousand kilometers away from the task force.  _Time to figure out what exactly they are up to._ If he was lucky, he might even tap into their transmissions; unlike the movies always made it out to be, warship communications weren't always encrypted, and Peta knew this. If the vessels believed they were within an area that had no life, they usually decided to do away with encryption and speak freely from ship to ship, allowing others to listen in. Controversially, the salarian STG had used this to take batarian or pirate ships unawares by tapping into these unencrypted transmissions, but he was no STG; he was a civilian shuttle, sitting in plain sight.

If they hadn't noticed him yet, they wouldn't now.

Within the space of a couple of minutes, he arrived at his preset coordinates, and opened his comm frequency to scan for any available transmissions. And to his luck, he picked up an unsecure link between the fleet. Before he opened it however, he regarded the ships infront of him.

From the looks of it, it was a Cerberus task force; most likely part of a larger fleet, although to what detachment, is unknown to him. From what he could tell, the carrier itself was being escorted four destroyers, and two light cruisers. There was no fighter pickets performing recon, and once again, they had not turned on their weapon lock. They hadn't even opened fire yet, even though he should be well within range of their sensors.  _Keelah, they shouldn't even need them. A visual scan could pick me up._

Yet they just continued to lazily drift through space, taking no notice of his existence. Their guns did not spiral to space him, no javelin torpedoes or mass acellerators sliced through the empty void to kill him. Its like he wasn't even there.

After a moment, he connected to their transmission, knowing that any effective VI would be able to detect the intrusion soon, so he decided to give it a quick look before disconnecting.  _This is some really lazy stuff. Open communications, letting me sit this close to them without firing and not so much as a warning shot. Are the crews of these ships drunk or something, or are they really confident that noone will find them way out here?_

There was static for a moment before the communications cleared up, giving him clear access.

A female voice came over the comm, sounding inexperienced but attempting to enact a measure of calm that didn't suit her, "-copy that CAW Ronald Williams, this is the cruiser CAW John Pershing, requesting confirmation on that departure, over."

Peta frowned.  _Departure, hmmm? What would that be, you bosh'tets?_

A more balanced voice, this one the gruff but demanding voice of a older man with a thick "German" accent, responded, "This is Ronald Williams, departure authorized by the Illusive Man himself, over. This shuttle came straight from the Deliverance. Mission of classified detail, over."

"If it is so classified, Rear Admiral, then why are we communicating over such a unsecured channel? And we'll need confirmation on that authorization, over."

_Classified? Curiosity kills the cat indeed..._

The carrier's captain was quick to reply, sounding like he wanted this over with, "Look around you, captain. We are in a unoccupied system. Anyone who wants to listen on this conversation is hundreds of thousands of light years away. As for confirmation, I'll send you the QEC history log. You'll see that the latest one was mapped to the Illusive Man's base. I'll also be sure to send you the mission debrief, if it'll satisfy your goddamn paranoia."

Peta silently listened, hoping upon all hope that the person operating sensors on any of those vessels did not look to their readouts to see a shuttle hovering nearby. It wouldn't end well for him. Yet again, he figured, he probably would never know when they found out; he'd simply see a flash of light before he died.  _What a way to go; listening in on the enemy._

A couple of minutes later, the cruiser captain responded, sounding clear and calm, "Yeah okay sir, you made your point. This all seems legitimate. But why are we deploying the shuttle here? We're faraway from the Veil."

That got Peta's eyes to widen.  _...what? What could Cerberus want that lies beyond the Veil?_

"Sure, we'll just park right outside the Veil. I'm sure the geth will really appreciate an organization such as ours snooping around their space," the rear admiral replied, voice oozing sarcasm, "Besides, we don't have the fuel to make a detour. We're scheduled for a refuel at Omega in two days, and I'd rather not piss off Petrovsky  _or_ the Illusive Man. So we'll deploy the shuttle here; FTS should get them there within the day."

The cruiser captain still didn't sound convinced, "I still think this mission is a waste of tactical resources. What does capturing one of Shepard's squadmates get us? Better to just kill the fuckers the next time they turn up."

"If I were you captain, I wouldn't question the chain of command. If it's above your pay grade, best to let it slide. Getting nosey about things that aren't your business is hazardous to your health," the admiral drawled, "Not quit your babbling. We need to make for the Hoc Relay as soon as possible. Is the shuttle cleared for launch or not, captain?"

The female captain sighed over the comms, but seemed to understand, "Well, the mission parameters fit, and like you said, its 'above my pay grade' to question it, so fuck it. The shuttle's cleared for departure. I just hope we're not held liable if it blows up or something."

"Good. I'll inform them immediately. Ronald Williams out," and with that, the transmission ended, leaving Peta to sit back and contemplate all he had just heard.

_Shuttle. Classified. Mission. Beyond the Veil. Capturing one of Shepard's squadmates._

_Capturing one of Shepard's squadmates._

Peta would admit it pridefully; that had been the one that truly got his attention. Hearing them mention a mission behind the Veil enticed him, but the thought of Shepard's squadmates being captured by Cerberus irked him. That, and not knowing who it was. For all he knew, Tali could be the one they wanted captured.

It made sense. Tali was his wife, and was essentially the closest thing to him. How better to kill his resolve and morale then to hold hostage his own wife? It would certainly shake the man up. Perhaps get him to let up on their operations...

It was the idea of Tali being in danger that really angered him. Here he was, looking to throw himself at the geth, when he had just stumbled upon a Cerberus plan to capture and hold the love of his life hostage; not only that, but considering Cerberus history, they would also likely torture her; maybe even experiment. Poke and cut...perhaps even  _dissect_ her...

Out of all the thoughts he despised the most, it was that. No, this was far more important. He couldn't do much against the geth, but this? He was clued in. He knew about something that noone else did. A diabolical scheme to capture and torture one of the most prestigious quarians in galactic history. Not only that, but he loved her. It didn't matter that she didn't return that love; he loved her, and that's what mattered. He would not allow Cerberus to hurt her.

He would  _kill_  to protect her.

In that instant, he decided; he was right here, and he could stop this. He wasn't going to Haestrom; he was going to follow this shuttle.

He was just a tiny shuttle, and with no weapons to boot; so he obviously couldn't take on the Cerberus task force in front of him. His only hope was to wait for the shuttle to depart the carrier, have the VI lock onto its signal, and then pursue it into the Veil. Wherever that shuttle was planning to spring a trap, he would spring it; and he would kill every single one of them when given the chance.

He steeled himself and waited; hands hovering over the console.

After six minutes of waiting, the rear admiral spoke again, "Attention all ships, shuttle is departing. Stand by...and shuttle is away."

Peta watched as a new IFF blimp appeared on sensors; this one of a small, Cerberus UT-47 Kodiak, Combat model. His target in sight, he immediately ordered the VI to track it, a small red dot appearing on his console, in the top right corner. With a slight smile, he keyed the thrusters, watching them roar to life once more in the void silence of space.

He didn't even bother to acknowledge the multiple VI warnings that the other ships were beginning to initiate weapons lock; they had finally noticed him. It was more than likely their sensors had been reprogrammed to look for a flare of mass effect field emissions, which would explain why they hadn't seen him; his shuttle's thrusters had been cold while he hovered there.

Yet again, they hadn't detected him while he was approaching either.

_Just admit it Peta; stupid Cerberus bosh'tets simply weren't paying attention. They were too cocksure of their 'secrecy.'_

His grin only broadened as he watched the Cerberus shuttle enter FTS, followed by his own mere moments later, his shuttle being enveloped by the cold serenity of hyperspeed. He lay back, tapping his Tempest SMG once more, and sighed.

 _I'm coming Tali,_ he mused,  _and this time, I'm going to set the record straight._

**{Loading...}**

_July 8, 2186_

_2007 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Zaal'Koris oso Qwib Qwib._

The four occupants of the room were bathed in blue light, all of their bodies standing and reasonably close to the railing that seperated them from the main QEC projector. Marcus stood at the head of the group, infront of the center terminal, wearing his usual N7 shirt, pants and cap, feeling thoroughly enveloped in red, black and white stripes; the colors of the N7 Program. Behind him and on his right stood the quarian admirals, almost in single file, all of them attaining a modicum of professionalism as they stood; Shala and Koris stood straight with hands clasped behind their backs, while Xen was more laid back, arms crossed in her usual 'all attitude' demeanour.

The person who's image was being broadcasted to their QEC wasn't as laid back; even as old as he was, Fleet Admiral of the Navy Steven Hackett still held a posture of authority, experience and wisdom. His grizzled features remained hardened and undeterred, showing that even an enemy such as the Reapers could not break him. He wore the same uniform he always did; crisp, ironed navy blues, the bars of his rank displayed on his left breast and shoulderpads. A simple cap rested on his forehead, clean and immaculate. He stood tall, body straight and hands resting at his side. Overall, Hackett definitely was a gentle sign that the war hadn't changed everyone entirely.

 _Even with all that's going on, some of us can hold onto who we are,_ Marcus had mused as the particles had come together to form Hackett's holographic transmission,  _not at all like me._

"So all is calm on the Western Front," Hackett glumly, shaking his head in bemusement.

Marcus sighed, rubbing his head, "I wouldn't call it calm, sir. More like taking a breather. The war is still on, you can be sure of that."

Hackett just shook his head again, "It needs to stop. We've got greater things to worry about than losing allies because they wanted to start a war in the middle of a bigger war. The time for unity is  _now_ , not in several months while we wait for this to blow over. How soon can we expect a resolution to this, Shepard?"

"That depends on the admirals here, sir," Marcus replied, shooting a glare at the three quarian admirals beside him. Xen just snorted, Shala and Koris hanging their heads as Marcus turned back to Hackett, "Any more suicidal attacks, and this war will just drag on. I agree with you as much as anyone that we need a quick resolution to this, sir. I just don't see it ending soon."

"The Reapers are putting on the pressure, and even with the forces we've got, we can't hold forever," the admiral licked his lips, looking almost haunted. After a moment of hesitation, he looked up, eyes holding a hint of sadness, "Primarch Victus contacted me the other day. The last of the turian forces pulled out of the Apien Crest yesterday. As of now, both humanity and the turians are alive, but without a homeworld."

Marcus nodded grimly, knowing this would have happened eventually, "The Reapers are relentless. The rest of the Council races must be feeling the heat."

"The Reapers are breathing down their necks too, and knocking on more than a few doors," he stated simply, running a hand over his own features, "We believe Thessia will be the Reapers' next target, and the Dalatrasi have reported more than a Reaper scouts entering their territory. They're scared that after the attacks on Jaeto and Aegohr, that Sur'Kesh could be next. Irune has fallen but the volus are still putting up guerilla warfare, although given that they aren't very good combatants, its not working well. Dekuuna has just been attacked, which means the elcor are devoting all they have at the moment to evacuating their civilian populace. The hanar refuse to let the Reapers take Kahje, although its a losing fight, and they may have to pull out eventually if things get too hairy. What interests me the most is Heshtok."

"Don't recall it," Marcus frowned, not remembering that particular homeworld.

"It's the vorcha homeworld," Hackett elaborated, frowning himself, "The Reapers have attacked it, but from the looks of things, they're having a very hard time subjugating the local population. From the looks of it, the usual terror tactics that the Reapers use on other planets just doesn't work on the vorcha because they're too feral, primitive and immune to anger that burning capital cities just doesn't provoke a response from them. They know the terrain well and are using guerilla tactics against Reaper ground troops, and their immunity to disease means that any biological or chemical warfare the Reapers employ simply doesn't work. The Reapers have tried killing off their leadership like they did on Earth and Palaven, but the vorcha simply don't have any; they don't recognize any authority other than their own. The only thing that works against them is to threaten them with huskification, but even then, the vorcha just bomb their concentration and conversion camps. At this point, the Reapers have simply resorted to burning down the major cities and killing anything that moves. They've even withdrawn their ground troops."

The thought made Marcus widen his eyes in shock.  _Who would have thought that a species as stupid and idiotic as the vorcha, who can't even manufacuture toilet paper, would be the species to be the most successful in resisting an invasion by the greatest enemy this galaxy has ever known?_ "So you're saying that the vorcha are winning?"

Hackett shook his head, "No, I wouldn't call it that. The vorcha are resisting, but I wouldn't say they're making a difference. The vorcha have the numbers, immunity to disease and can occupation, but the Reapers are simply switching tactics. From the looks of it, the Reapers might just resort to bombing the planet from orbit, and the vorcha can't stop that because they lack a navy. And the Reapers might just round up any captured vorcha, indoctrinate them, and take them to another concentration camp to be converted into husks."

When the information hit him, Marcus just chuckled darkly, nodding his head, "Of course, forgot about that. The vorcha will do no better than the rest of us if the Crucible isn't completed."

"Exactly," Hackett confirmed, "The Reapers are also continuing to ignore Parnack. Seems you were right about the Reapers ignoring the less advanced races; if it doesn't have spaceflight, the Reapers will ignore them. Hard to think that the yahg might be leading the next cycle if we fail."

The spectre nodded, standing up fully as he let go of the terminal, "We can't think about things like that. Right now, we need to concentrate on winning this war. And to do that, we need to end this one."

Hackett nodded, sighing as he turned to the three quarian admirals themselves, "I'm not going to tell you what you did wrong, admirals. Humans were still playing around with gunpowder when your people were exiled, but I can say this: we need this war to be over, and soon. The war with the Reapers is simply more important."

Koris nodded in agreement, "For what it's worth admiral, myself and Tali'Shepard did not want this war. We tried to stop it. But it would seem some of us were all too eager to jump into conflict with the geth again."

Xen just scoffed, shaking her head, "In case you haven't noticed Koris, we need Rannoch. The Reapers have just made reclaiming the homeworld all the more important. We needed a place to shelter our civilians while the Migrant Fleet wages war, and where else would we do that? No turian or batarian world would have taken so many civilians, or any other dextro world. Rannoch was the only option."

"You didn't care about that!" Koris shot back, "You just wanted an excuse to use your new technology on the geth! You don't give a damn about our civilians!"

"And you've just been another bloody suit-wetter! Always cowering from the fight," Xen remarked, wiping her mask, "You'd have us run from the Reapers if you could."

" _Enough_ , both of you," Shala snapped, sighing heavily as she crossed her own arms, "It's exactly this kind of bickering that got us into this war. That, and Han'Gerrel's damn warmongering," the elderly admiral nodded to Marcus, before turning back to Hackett, who had raised an eyebrow at the sudden example of quarian social politics, "Admiral, we agree that this war must end. But it must only end on our terms. We are in too deep to pull out of this conflict now and, while tough, the geth have proven anything but invincible. And like it or not, Xen is right. We  _need_ Rannoch. A place to house our civilians while we prep the Migrant Fleet for all-out war with the Reapers. And Rannoch is the only option for us."

Hackett nodded, stroking his chin. After a moment, he nodded and said something Marcus never thought he'd hear leaving his lips, "Yes, Admiral Raan, perhaps I can understand that. And to be honest, in your position, we'd do the same damn thing. Now's not the same for pettiness or mistrust. What we need to do is work this out. And with the geth destroyed, it would at least rob the Reapers of another ally."

Marcus shook his head, turning from the quarian admirals behind him as he braced against the terminal, gaining Hackett's attention, "Thing is sir, the geth don't need to be destroyed. I admit, the idea sounds ludicrous. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to me."

The admiral just frowned, "What exactly are you getting at, Shepard?"

Marcus took note of the shaking heads beside him, even Koris looking bewildered. Sure, the man hadn't agreed with what they did with the geth, but peace with them? The idea sounded ludicrous to even Regrets, apparently.  _But this is my war now. They put their lives in my hands, as has Legion. This war is even won or lost by my hand. I control the fate of billions of lives, and I'll damn well do my best to save them._

_We fight or we die._

_Victory at any cost._

He hesitated, then looked back at Hackett, and stood straight.  _No, the cost here is too high._

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Admiral, I believe that peace with the geth is in our best interests."

He could hear Shala sigh, and Xen chuckle silently to herself. Hackett, to his credit, didn't neither, simply standing there as he regarded Marcus. For a moment, there was no sound but the hum of the ship, the beep of the QEC's relay and the chatter of the crew in the War Room nearby. All of them were utterly silent, waiting for the man's response.

Finally, Hackett replied, pursing his lips, "Peace, Shepard? With the geth? You remember what they did to Eden Prime, remember? To Feros? And the galaxy will find it hard to forget the Battle of the Citadel, even with the recent attack by Cerberus. And now the quarians are at war with the geth, and you're proposing peace with them?"

"I'm not saying it will be easy. But for the sake of the entire galaxy, we have to try," the captain pleaded, beginning to pace, "We can sit here and debate what will and could happen all week long, Admiral. It'll get us nowhere. In the end, there is no other way to settle this. To put it morally, making peace between the quarians and the geth would not only get the quarians back their homeworld, but it would also end a misjudgment made three hundred years ago. Strategically, it would give us access to  _the_ most powerful military force in the galaxy. And trust me, Hackett, we'll need the geth in this war. Their technology far outmatches anything we've got. Even the Reapers, in some cases."

This got Hackett's attention, "How so?"

"How does directed energy weapons sound to you?" He asked, and the admiral simply nodded for him to continue. So he did, continuing to pace, gaining even the attention of the three admirals beside him, "The geth have plasma-based weapons. Now I don't know about you, but from the research done on the Reapers, they don't even have that kind of technology; what they use is a magneto-hydrodynamic mass acellerator that fires a superheated tungsten shell. That's powerful and all, but does it match up to superheated plasma? I've watched that vaporize entire quarian cruisers, Admiral. And that was just one energy projector. And they have cloaking tech."

Hackett simply shrugged, "Tactical cloaks been around for at least a decade, Shepard. Our special forces operatives have been utilizing it since our implementation into the wider galaxy. Why is this news?"

"Not just cloaks on soldiers, Admiral. Cloaking tech for warships," he corrected, noticing the glint in Hackett's eyes at hearing this, "I've seen it myself. Admiral Koris' ship crashed on Rannoch and I took my squad to rescue him from geth forces on the planet. During the planet, the geth were able to sneak up on us using a cloaked dropship. From what Legion told me, it uses the same technology as the standard tactical cloak, but used on ships. In theory, it could even be used on ground vehicles, like the Mako. And apparently, the entire geth navy possesses it."

Hackett contemplated this for a moment and nodded, scratching his neck as he pulled his hand back from his chin, "That sounds like it could be a game changer, sure, but that's not the problem, Shepard. The geth have built a reputation on being synthetic butcherers. And no human I know will be eager to get into alliance with our old enemies."

"They're not. Not really," Marcus stated simply, "The geth that we fought before now were a splinter faction. The geth had a schism, and a specific faction chose to join Sovereign. Those are the forces we fought, not the true geth. Trust me when I say this: the geth are not our enemy. Even now, they are our allies. They're simply being controlled by the Reapers, and we need to free them. You'll find them quite willingly to cooperate afterwards."

"I don't know where you're getting this information, Shepard, but I'm willing to trust in the fact that you know what you're doing. Won't make an alliance with the geth any easier, though. Especially with the quarians," he motioned to the admirals beside him, who all silently nodded their approval. Hackett sighed, rubbing his temples, and after a moment, turned back to Marcus, "But to be honest, I'm sick of underestimating your abilities, Shepard, and we certainly do need something to turn the tide; the geth might just be it. A united geth-quarian fleet would be a force to be reckoned with, I'm sure."

Marcus just smiled, "Do I really make it look that easy? I mean, I'm confident I can get this done, but...I didn't know I inspired such confidence in my abilities."

Hackett just scoffed, shaking his head, "Shepard, you held off an army of ten thousand with just a heavy machine gun and a knife. You survived a thresher maw attack against all odds. You took on the Council's best agent and killed him. You took the fight to the Collectors beyond a relay that noone returned from before and came out with the extinction of an entire race on your record. You scared the greatest broker in the galaxy into doing what you want, and stopped two attacks on the Citadel. And to top it off? Shepard, you helped cure a sterility plague one thousand years in the making, and got two species who despise each other to work together. So believe me when I say my belief in you is well founded."

Marcus was about to respond to that when he saw a shift in his peripherals. He turned to his right to see Koris and Shala looking at him in surprise, eyes wide behind their masks. It took him several seconds to realize it was shock that drove their expressions, and he chuckled. Hackett frowned, but Marcus was quick to explain.

"I hadn't told them about that," the spectre elaborated, and Hackett gave a nod of understanding.

"Keelah. You cured the genophage?" Koris said in what sounded like awe. He turned away, laughing half-heartedly to himself as he did.

Marcus' smile dropped and he shook his head, tone grim, "No, I only helped. A...a very dear friend of mine cured it. A brilliant salarian scientist named Mordin Solus. You may have seen him at the wedding."

"Ah, yes. Mordin and I had a lengthy discussion about my immune system. Said he was 'gathering data', whatever that was about," Shala observed, turning back to Marcus with crossed arms, "How is he?"

He looked at her with a firm line, the memory of his friend too painful to bear.

 _Had to be me. Someone else would have gotten it wrong._ "He's dead. He...he created the cure, but the building we used to disperse it was damaged during our attack. He tried to fix it, but in the end, he...he sacrificed his life to cure it."

"I...I see," Shala stuttered, having not expected that response, "I'm...I'm sorry to hear that. He sounded like a brilliant man. A good man.

 _Should run tests on the seashells._ "He was." A few seconds passed where he remained silent, staring down at the cold steel floor as memories of Mordin's time on the Normandy all the way up to his sacrifice flooded his mind.  _I haven't forgotten what I almost did, Mordin. I haven't forgotten that I would have shot you on the promise of a Dalatrass. I will never make that mistake again. Never._

He was about to return to speaking to Hackett when a high-pitched, electronic voice resonated into the room, one he recognized well.

"Shepard-Commander," Legion boomed into the room, gaining everyone's attention almost instantly, the geth coming to stand rigidly as it faced Marcus, optics glowing more dimly than normal, "We believe we may have located the Old Machine signal's origin."

He nodded, turning back to Hackett as he stood straight, snapping a quick salute, "Sorry sir, but we've got wrap this up. Legion may have just found the way to ending this war. I'll keep you updated."

Hackett nodded, returning the salute, "I won't keep you any longer, Shepard; we all need to get back to it. Hackett out." With that, he dropped his salute, hand falling to his side, particles collapsing inward as he did, causing Hackett's image to fade. Not long after, the holographic particles dissipated, and the QEC's emitters dimmed. With a sigh, he turned back to Legion, leaning back against it with crossed arms.

"So give it to me true Legion; you've actually found the source? How?"

The headflaps around Legion's optics moved and shifted for a few moments before the geth's response, the infiltrator looking back at him with its single, glowing oculus, "We have relayed this information inaccurately, and we apologize. Shepard-Commander, we wished to inform you that our software has hacked into the geth consensus with EDI, and using her cyberwarfare intrusion systems, we have located a way of finding the Old Machine signal's primary source location."

Some of his determination had sagged slightly at hearing that, as had those of the admirals he noticed.  _Legion had practically told them they could end the war by tomorrow. Seems like it's not going to be that way. But it's better than nothing._ He nodded, sighing as he frowned, tightening his arms, "Okay Legion, hit me. What did you find?"

"We have approximated the location of a geth server hub located on Rannoch," the geth informed them, headflaps moving more erradically, likely in response to the data flow and collection, "This server hub is allocated Server Hub 02241-14511. Approximately ten million runtimes and programs are housed within the server hub. According to relevant data, the hub is seated in a superstructure in a canyon historical creator records refer to as 'Dalpash Canyon,' within the Uma'Waz subcontinent. The superstructure itself is lightly defended, and the server hub is decided to programs running fighter squadrons for Geth Fleet Detachment 677-144238992."

After a few seconds, he just shrugged, confused as ever, "And that means...what, exactly? We need the location of the Reaper signal Legion, not a server hub. How does this help us find the signal?"

"The hub houses critical information that is transmitted at light speed through our consensus," the geth replied humbly, looking to have taken no offense at Marcus' impatient tone, "EDI and our programs intercepted this transmission of data. Through it, we have been able to identify geographical locations being transmitted to geth ground and naval runtimes. While we were not able to decrypt this data, it has confirmed that this server hub contains geographical information for Rannoch, with the obvious acknowledgement that some of this information contains the whereabouts of the Old Machine signal."

He nodded, still frowning, "So, what you're saying is that through hacking the server, we can locate the signal?"

"Negative," Legion countered, shaking its head, "Geth servers cannot be hacked. This platform and EDI only intercepted information being transmitted through data transmissions. However, we cannot directly access the servers due to Reaper encoded firewalls and root access denial transfers. To learn the location of the signal, the superstructure holding the server must be breached and physically accessed."

His eyes widened as he nodded, reaching an epiphany, "You want me and my squad to accompany you down there and breach the facility, is that right? Give you direct access to the server hub to extract the information we need?"

"Y-yes," the geth replied, hesitating slightly.

This caused Marcus to stop for a moment, looking at the geth with shock in his eyes. Slowly, his mind caught up to him, and he realized just what the geth had done. Not only had it stuttered, but it had...

_Legion never says 'yes.' That's...that's just not like the geth. Its always 'acknowledged' or 'affirmative.' Never just plain and simple 'yes'..._

"Legion?" he asked quietly, ignoring the murmurs among the three admirals who also seemed to notice the geth's verbal hiccup, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Shepard-Commander. We are experiencing a...hardware malfunction," Legion replied, "We do not wish to alarm you. It is simply an issue with our verbal speech emulators. They appear to be..m-m-malfunctioning."

_There it goes with 'yes' again. What is with that?_

"Legion," he said again. He had gotten closer to Legion, and this time it was able to land a hand on its shoulder, which caused its optics to shoot up to face him, the geth almost looking...alarmed. Could a geth be alarmed? The geth seemed to calm down when it saw his face, so Marcus continued, "You just...you just said  _yes_."

"Yes," it replied simply, persisting in its sudden new reinterpretation of the english language.

"Legion, you've never said that before. Why...why would you say that now? Is there something I should know?" he was worried, and from the looks of it, so were the admirals.

_Yet again, they're always worried about Legion. Just not_ _**for** _ _him, more like_ _**of** _ _him._

The look Legion gave him sent shivers down his spine. Sure, anyone else looking at it would see blank optics. But he had seen how slow it looked up at him, the sudden hesitation as it spoke, no longer having an instant answer. When it spoke, its voice was lighter than usual; it still carried its electronic tinge, but it wasn't as intense or loud. It sounded hushed, and when it spoke, its headflaps did not move, as if subdued.

So for some reason or another, Marcus had seen  _worry_ in those optics.

"No data available."

**"That's when Legion began to change, isn't it?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Indeed it was."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So was this when we went down to Rannoch and you...uh...saw what you saw?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"You can say it, Tali. I saw history. Your history. I saw all of it, and the entire war on the geth. And my perspective changed entirely in that one instant. I took a walk through history."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You guessed it. Legion is experiencing some changes to his personality. So from now, do not attack me when he falls out of character, because trust me, it's intentional. Legion is stripping down all the things that make him part of a collective and is slowly becoming an individual. ;)** _

_**Not long to go before the Quarian-Geth arc is finished. I told you it wouldn't be long! But believe me when I say that the next chapter is going to be a big one. Its not your standard Geth Server mission; and if you paid attention to this chapter, you'll know what's coming. Also, after the Quarian-Geth arc is finished, I'm essentially going to be entering DLC territory; I'm leaving the Citadel DLC until after the Horizon mission for obvious reasons, but will address the Omega and Leviathan DLCs straight out the door (I've got some interesting things cooked up for those, especially in terms of Leviathan). But that's the future, and we're in the present!** _

_**Can't wait to see you guys next chapter!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	47. Counterfactual History, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legion locates the source of a geth server that contains information regarding the location of the Reaper signal: Shepard's team deploy to extract the information.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX:**

**COUNTERFACTUAL HISTORY PART ONE**

_July 9, 2186_

_0932 hours._

_Troop Bay, UT-47A Kodiak Combat Shuttle, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Operation: Pinpoint._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Legion._

The door to the cockpit shot open with a barely contained hiss, permitting Marcus entry through its narrow archway. There was a creak as armor plates scraped together, Marcus coming to stand behind Cortez with one hand at his side, another holding the ceiling handrails. While inertia dampeners had reduced the reaction of outside forces upon the interior of a fast moving vessel, it had not been able to totally defend its occupants from physics, and inertia still reigned in a limited form within the shuttle; so while they weren't being tossed about as they would without the dampeners, there was still the odd bump and jump as the shuttle traversed Rannoch's airspace.

"How's our travel vector, Cortez?" Marcus asked, his helmet already fastened over his head, "Have the geth picked us up?"

Cortez's hands continued to dance over the holographic interface as he replied, eyes focused on getting them to their destination, "Doesn't seem like it, Shepard. I haven't picked up any geth aircraft in the vicinity, none of their anti-aircraft guns have opened fire on us, and the only thing that's attacked us so far was an angry mother bird protecting its nest. Aside from that, not so much as a peep."

 _Geth have cloaking technology, but still haven't figured out a way to detect a vehicle using the IES. Good._ The lack of geth interference would make reaching the Server Hub all the more easier, at least from their anti-air defenses.  _Once we're on the ground, though...that could become a different story very quickly. Got to approach this carefully._

"What's our ETA?" he requested, stiffling a yawn. Junior had kept him up all of last night with his crying, and as revenge for what he did to her the other day, Tali had made him go down to the shuttle bay and look after him while she slept. So while Tali had gotten a good night's rest, he had been up quite literally all night; By the time James woke up on his cot, Marcus was still pacing about the shuttle bay with his son in his arms, trying to calm him down without even knowing that the child was already asleep. When Keeling pointed that out, he had returned to his cabin in embarassment. He had tried catching a power nap while on route to Rannoch, but it wasn't enough to make up for the hours of sleep lost.

Unknown to Tali, he had taken a few adrenaline tablets from his private stash to keep him going. Essentially, once taken, he would have about as much energy as he would with a good night's sleep, and then some. He hadn't told Tali that however, as adrenaline tablets weren't always reliable; they could either give you a boost like they were designed to with no ill side effects, or they would, and would give you a heart attack later...or worse, overload your system, and kill you.

Sure, his cybernetics filtered this effect and only gave a five percent chance for said heart attack or death, but Tali didn't know that, and he wouldn't be telling her anytime soon. If she knew he was taking high risk factor tablets, she would crucify him. And there would be a trial. Followed by an exile to the couch.

_Not exactly my fault or hers. If I had gotten any sleep, I wouldn't need them. But then Tali would be in my place, and she would be sleepy instead. Either way, someone loses. Might as well be me. At least I've got the tablets; Tali wouldn't be able to take them because they're designed for levos. She'd get the boost, and then subsequently fall deathly ill._

Either way, with the tablets now taking effect, he was as ready as he'd ever be for combat.

Cortez replied in the moment it took for Marcus to compile those thoughts, "Fifteen minutes at best. We're closing fast. This canyon is long, but this shuttle is fast. Just hold tight, captain."

The human spectre's only response was to lightly pat the pilot's shoulder, giving him a warm smile behind his helmet before retreating back into the troop bay of the shuttle, the aircraft shaking all the way.

All eyes pretty much turned towards him as they heard the door slide open once more to provide him entrance. Legion, being a geth, was standing up, facing the hatch with its head hung low as it likely sorted through data. Aside from the infiltrator however, everybody was sitting, with Tali and Garrus beside each other, and James, Keeling and Liara engaged in active conversation near the back, all of which stopped as they turned to face him.

He nodded to them quickly, before coming to a stop just infront of Legion, "We're fifteen minutes out. Recommend a last minute weapons check."

His squad did just that. Garrus and Tali immediately looked over their assault rifle and shotgun respectively, making sure thermal clips were loaded and the weapon wouldn't jam. James did the same with his Revenant and his newly acquired (and favourite) geth spitfire. Liara and Keeling also checked their weapons, while Legion rapidly drew both its Widow anti-material rifle and pulse rifle to check that they were loaded.

With Legion's attention now focused on reality, he turned back to the geth, gripping the railing even more tightly as a sudden gust of wind battered the shuttle, "What can you tell us about this server? What kind of resistance can we expect from within?"

The geth shook its head, turning its body entirely to face him, optics regarding him closely, "This is a false assumption. No resistance from geth forces will be encountered within the server hub's protective superstructure."

At hearing that, the entire squad fell silent, turning from their weapons for a moment to simply look up at Legion. After a moment, and after wiping his own frown away, he cleared his throat, "What do you mean, Legion? Are you telling me the building is empty? The geth aren't even protecting their server?"

"Negative," the geth replied, confusing him even more. Sensing his confusion, Legion elaborated, but did not holster its pulse rifle, "They are merely incapable of doing so. Concurrently, all active hardware and platforms within the superstructure is currently linked to consensus uplinks, with the software operating them uploaded to the server."

He nodded in understanding, but still didn't quite understand one thing, "But on the Heretic Station, when we infiltrated the station, the programs detected us because they were a part of the station. Then they just reuploaded to their platforms and attacked us."

Legion nodded, acknowledging his point, "The heretics on Haratar Station were not uploaded to the consensus, they had simply utilized the station's software to house their programs. Through the station's software, they were able to become a part of it. This allowed them to detect our presence. When organics touch each other, they are able to feel the skin-on-skin contact. This feeling can be applied to the heretics: when we set foot on the station's decking, the decking acted as the heretic's skin; in organic terms, they 'felt our presence.' These geth are linked up to the consensus; they are part of a seperate network of software that is not connected to the superstructure's software. Because of this, they are unaware of anything occurring outside the server's network. They will not detect our presence in the superstructure as a result."

Tali was the first to reply, leaning forward as she snapped the slot that housed the thermal clip in her shotgun shut, leaning forward, "The geth are basically in a dream-like state. Their 'minds' are in the dream, but their 'bodies' are in the real world, inactive and vulnerable."

"We acknowledge this metaphorical statement as accurate," Legion declared, "No geth hostility other than within the server will be observed. Engagement with geth platforms will more than likely be limited to outside interference and reinforcement, but not from platforms within the server."

"They don't even have guards to watch over them?" Marcus asked, baffled by this.

Legion just shrugged, headflaps shuddering, "The geth blockade is sufficient enough that known foreign quantities can be stopped before they reach the planet. The geth still have not adapted technology to detect IES, and as a result, have not acknowledged its tactical application. The only threat resides with local wildlife, which has been deemed to have the collective intelligence to remain at a distance from geth population centers and server hubs."

"Guess that makes sense," James remarked, holstering his spitfire minigun, "What that basically means is that we won't be fighting anyone? I still say we have alot of  _cojones_  walking into a geth server hub like this, loco."

"Well Mr. Vega," Keeling spoke, standing up as she too took hold of a ceiling rail, Valkyrie hanging limply beside her, "I do believe you are scared."

Marcus almost did a double take as he regarded the woman, catching a glimpse of her grin before her helmet slided over her head and clicked into place.  _She's spending way too much time around us. I think we're converting her._

James was especially the most surprised, but quickly recovered, leaning back with a grin of his own, "Now now, lola, you wound me. My pride will take a while to recover."

"Good," Keeling fired back, turning away, "Just means you'll fight harder to revive it."

"You bet, lola," James snarkily proclaimed, pulling back the slot of his Revenant to prove his point.

"Very well," Marcus spoke again, turning away from Keeling and Vega's quipping, focusing back on Legion, "So what's the objective here? How exactly do we extract the information we need?"

The geth's response was quick and to the point, having obviously expected the question, "Direct access to the server's network will be required to locate the Old Machine signal source. To do this, a hardlink to the geth consensus will be need to be coordinated."

He nodded, squaring his shoulders, "But what do you need us for? You said the geth were part of the network and therefore wouldn't be able to tell we're present or fight back, and you're the one entering the consensus. What's our task?"

For a moment, the geth turned its head towards him, headflaps twitching and flicking. It did not say anything or make any further movement, it just stood there, watching him. After what seemed like minutes, it turned to face him fully, shaking its head, "You misunderstand. This unit will not be entering the consensus."

"Then who?" he asked, frowning.

The geth just continued to look at him. He waited for an answer, but when he realized just what the geth was insinuating, he widened his eyes.

"Wait..." he began, licking his lips, "You mean...me? You want  _me_ to enter the server?"

"This is correct," Legion declared, "Our hardware and software configuration will cause the hostile software within the network to immediately identify us and be alerted to our presence. This makes this platform an illogical choice in terms of accessing the server. We deemed your own runtimes more sufficient."

He just laughed, unable to contain himself as he looked over at the geth with ludicrosity. But when he realized Legion wasn't joking, he just had to shake his head in befuddlement, "Legion, I'm organic, not a machine. How the hell am I going to interface with a software-based network when I don't have software of my own?"

Legion nodded, and its head tilted slightly as it spent the next second organizing a reply. When it did, it looked back up at him, headflaps still, "Shepard-Commander, do you remember the aspects of Project Overlord?"

He cringed at the name; a name he thought he had left in the past.  _Of course I remember Overlord...the nightmares that were inflicted on David...turned into a human-VI hybrid just so they could see if they could subjugate the geth...just another reason I decided to leave Cerberus behind after destroying the Collectors._

"I remember it all too well," he stated, gulping, "But apart from geth being involved Legion, I don't see much relevance."

Legion simply nodded, "This platform assessed the mission report regarding Project Overlord. Organic attempts to coerce geth obediency through the utilization of a false and misinformed application of heretic religious structure. Resulted in the creation of organic-AI hybrid. Corresponding software was not compatible with organic neural network. However, organic, subject named Archer-David, did not possess cybernetic implantation. Cybernetic implants would have precipitated limited software connection. Lack of cybernetics led to unsuccessful hybrid. However, Shepard-Commander possesses cybernetics."

 _I also remember Overlord taking over my body using those very same cybernetics, but whatever. Still, I see what he's getting at, even if I don't like it._ "So what you're saying is that Project Overlord might have worked if David had cybernetics like I do?"

"Negative," the geth stated formally, "Creation of human-AI hybrid would have been successful, but successful coercion of geth software through religious dieism would not have been observed. Heretics followed Nazara due to promise of new future, not due to misaligned religious tendencies."

"Okay," he gulped again, leaning back against the cockpit bulkhead as he crossed his arms, "So how exactly would my cybernetics help me interface with the consensus?"

Before Legion could so much as reply, Tali shot up from her seat, flabbergasted, "You can't be serious! Marcus, you can't interface with the consensus!"

He turned to her, shrugging, "I'm not seeing an alternative, Tali. Legion says he can't access the consensus without triggering alarms, so that leaves me. I'm an unknown quantity apparently."

"Hostile geth programs will not detect an organic incursion into the server network," Legion expanded upon Marcus' statement, "Consensus communion relies upon mutual software integration, not the application of organic interference. As a result, they will not detect Shepard-Commander within the server, allowing Shepard-Commander to safely investigate and locate the Old Machine signal."

"I don't care!" she spat, waving her arms in annoyance, "Marcus, you saw what Overlord did to you back on Aite. It took control of you  _through_ your cybernetics. How do we know that once you're in there, the geth won't find you and try the same? Keelah, are we forgetting that the geth are controlled by the Reapers now? How do we know there isn't Reaper software inside the server, as well?"

"She's got a point," Keeling pointed out, "I'm not going to pretend to be a tech expert, sir, but I doubt the Reapers are going to be as fooled by this incursion as the geth are. They'll most likely detect you within the server."

Marcus nodded, turning back to his geth comrade, "It's definitely a risk. What are my chances of being detected by the Reapers once inside, Legion?"

The geth took a few moments to respond, but when it did, it wasn't with the certainty you came to expect from it, "There is a sixty percent chance of detection once inside by Old Machine software. Corresponding firewalls will detect your presence and alert the Old Machines."

"See!?" his wife proclaimed, coming to stand infront of him, "And knowing that, do you still want to go in there?"

He gritted his teeth, trying not to let the anger in his tone come out, "You think I want to go in there at all? This isn't about want Tali, it's need. In that server holds the key to ending this entire damn fiasco."

"But is it worth losing you in the process?" she replied more quietly, but still with the determination she had in her voice, "After all we've been through, do you want to die from software? We don't know what effect their software could have on you in there. The Reapers could detect you and kill you. Are we really willing to take that chance?"

Marcus shook his head, "This is the only way."

Before Tali could say anything else, Legion spoke up, facing Tali, "Creator Tali'Shepard need not be alarmed. This platform's software will be monitoring and protecting Shepard-Commander once within the server. We will subsequently fight off hostile virus detection, purging software and, if need be, Old Machine programs."

Tali frowned, turning towards the geth, "Legion, these are Reapers. Their software is superior to yours; how could you possibly fight them off?"

The geth was quiet for a moment, and lowered its head. Marcus mentally noted that the gesture vaguely looked like the organic gesture of shame. When Legion spoke again, its voice was an octave lower than normal, which was surprising for the machine. Its optics refused to meet their eyes, and its headflaps ceased movement, "...not if the platform possesses Old Machine code."

It took Marcus several moments to realize just what had been suggested, but Tali was quick to the table, turning to face Legion with crossed arms, "Wait, Legion, are you saying...?"

Legion simply nodded, still not looking at them, "This platforms possesses Old Machine code within its software."

Marcus watched as Garrus' talons tightened around his mattock, Liara doing the same with her SMG. James and Keeling wasted no time, quickly raising their weapons to aim at the geth. Marcus simply held up one hand, ordering them to hold their fire. Following orders, the two of them lowered weapons slightly, but not entirely, wanting to be ready in case Legion betrayed them.

Tali just looked at the geth dumbfounded, unable to formulate words appropriate to the emotions she felt at that moment. Marcus moved to stand beside her, shaking his head, "Legion, why didn't you tell us this? Why...why hide this? From me? From us?"  _To be honest, I'm more surprised at how Legion reacted. It looked...ashamed of itself. Like it...like he...genuinely regretted his actions..._

_Can a geth do that? Sure, I know Legion's been learning alot of organic gestures from us, but this...this is something different. I can feel it._

Slowly it looked up at him, meeting his gaze, "We did not wish to break unit cohesion. Revealing this aspect of our software would have compromised diplomatic relations."

"But if you've got...Reaper code..." Marcus began, "Then shouldn't you...you know...be working for the Reapers? Under their control? Why are you able to break free of their control?"

Legion's response this time was immediate, "This code within this platform has not fully matured. For other platforms, the code upload was immediate and complete, allowing the Old Machines full control of their software and hardware. This platform refused to accept the code willingly. As a result, this platform was used as a signal booster within the drive core of the super-dreadnought. However, because the signal needed to transmit through our platform, trace amounts of it were absorbed by our software and assimilated. Our runtimes are still attempting to categorize it. But due to our seperation from the consensus, the Old Machines could not control us, and still can't. However, the code is still within our runtimes, and is manifesing itself. It is growing."

Marcus nodded in understanding, as did Tali, to his surprise. He figured her people's natural fear and mistrust of the geth would lead her to immediately throw the geth out the hatch, but she had simply stood there and listened, and in the end, understood. He couldn't help but smile at that.  _That's my Tali._

"So how does it...uh..." Tali rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, "...feel?"

"The exchange of data has been fascinating. It has also significantly improved our software," Legion declared with almost a tinge of excitement in its tone. It then brought up its arm and projected a hologram of a sphere above its arm. It was blue, and pulsed steadily every few seconds, "For example, this is an image of a single geth platform seperated from the consensus," it then changed the image, showing the same pulsing blue sphere, but this time pulsing more, and with several tendrils appearing from its core, "This is several geth platforms working in communion."

It changed the image one final time. This time, the sphere was a bright red, and there were even more tendrils than before; this time, the sphere did not pulse. Marcus knew what it was before Legion even explained, "This is a single geth platform possessing Old Machine code."

"Keelah..." Tali exclaimed, raising a hand to her vocalizer, "That's...that's a fully evolved AI."

"Fully evolved?" Marcus questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Tali turned to him, eyes wide, "Marcus, that essentially means the AI is of organic capability in terms of thoughts of emotions. They can feel emotion like grief, sadness, hatred, etc. It also means the geth are freed of the constraints my people originally placed on them. They can think independently, and no longer need multiple programs to run a single platform; only one. They can feel pain to a limited extent, as well."

Legion just gazed at the red sphere it projected, almost entranced by it, "We find it...beautiful. Symbolic of life."

_Never known Legion to call anything beautiful. But I guess that explains its shame from before. Legion's becoming a real person; an individual._

Marcus could only smile, reaching up and tapping its shoulder, "You're becoming an individual, Legion. Embrace it."

The geth nodded, shutting off the hologram and watching it flicker out of existence before turning back to him, unholstering its pulse rifle once more, "As we have stated before, this platform will use its Old Machine code fragments to shield you from the Old Machine influence within the server. However, we cannot protect you forever, and they will eventually detect you. You must locate the signal source before then."

"What happens once they find me?" Marcus asked, licking his lips.  _The very idea that it will be the actual Reapers themselves I'll be avoiding in the server, not just their bodies..._

Legion did not have a very forthcoming response, "No data available."

Suddenly, the door to the cockpit slid open, and Cortez's voice shouted out, "We're three minutes from the facility, Shepard!"

Marcus nodded to Cortez, before quickly turning back as the door closed again. When he turned again, he watched as Legion approached the hatch, hitting the haptic interface to open it. Marcus just watched as the hatch slid open, a massive gust of wind suddenly slamming into the passengers with full force, with dust and grit slamming into the small troop bay. From their position however, they were given a beautiful view of the surrounding landscape, the massive, yellow canyon walls towering around them like giant monoliths. It was day on this side of Rannoch, the sky coated in a mixture of oranges and yellows, inky clouds creeping across their expanse. As they passed by, the noise of the shuttle's engines startled a flock of odd-looking birds into flight, while he swore he heard the distant sound of an animal roaring in the background, its voice echoing along the canyon's empty walls.

Legion stood on the edge of the hatch, turning to face him, "This platform will deploy ahead of the main squad and provide advanced reconnaissance of the terrain and eliminate any geth platforms where present. We will meet you within the server superstructure."

Marcus nodded, grabbing his own pulse rifle and letting it slide into his hands, "We'll see you there then, Legion."

Without another word, the geth simply let itself fall from the shuttle, plummeting towards the ground below. Moving over to the hatch's edge, he looked off to the right as their shuttle raced past, watching Legion emerge from a cloud of dust on the canyon wall and begin moving towards the facility with its rifle raised. Shortly after, he closed the hatch, cutting off the brutal assault of wind that battered their forms.

Soon they would reach the facility, and when they did, they would locate that signal, and end this war.

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_0947 hours._

_Walkway, Geth Superstructure Housing Server Hub 02241-14511, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Operation: Pinpoint._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

By the time the shuttle came to a stop, the hatch was already opened. Due to the decelleration, the wind that hit them this time wasn't a torrentuous gust, but a light breeze, grazing against their forms cooly.

That stood in stark contrast to Rannoch's weather, though. As soon as the shuttle had come to a hovering stop, Marcus leapt from it, coming to land on the geth-designed walkway with a resounding thud of metal slamming into metal. When he stood up, the weather hit him full bore.

It was hot. The bright rays of Tikkun beat down on Rannoch's surface, with some of the light reflecting off the smooth titantium and steel plating of the geth infrastructure. Even as he looked up, the glare made it so that he needed to tint his visor significantly just to allow him to see. And then, again, there was the heat. Based on what his temperature gauge was telling him, convered to celsius, the current temperature was 37 degrees. And he was definitely feeling it. The heat seeped into his armor, forcing him to activate his armor cooling systems to compensate.

Rannoch was no Tuchanka, but it was still pretty hot.

_Either Rannoch is within...whatever version of summer it has, or this is what Rannoch is like all year 'round._

Even as his squad joined him on the walkway, he was beginning to remember that  _this_ world is where he promised Tali they would retire to once the war was over. A nice, isolated part of the galaxy free from the galactic press and prying eyes, as well as the inevitable economical, political and military chaos following a large scale war like this one. It hadn't occurred to him it would be heat he'd be facing.

_Even as an Israeli, I've never been a summer-person. As a kid and even now, I love winter. At least with winter, you can curl under warm blankets with someone you love, or add more clothing to warm yourself. And when its cold enough, it can snow, and you can have snowball fights, or make snow men. In summer...well, all there is to it is sweat, less clothing, humidity and swimming, and only one of those is even remotely appealing._

_But I made a promise. And I plan to keep it. No heat is going to keep me from retiring with my wife._

_Just means we'll need_ _**alot** _ _of air conditioning installed._

But the time he finished those thoughts, Tali herself had joined him, and he only smiled as he turned towards her, rifle at the ready, "Mrs. Shepard, why didn't you tell me your planet was so hot?"

James laughed, agreeing with Marcus' sentiment, "Reminds me of my days on the Pacific coast. Those were some hot days."

Tali just leaned on one hip, winking at him, "Don't tell me the heat disagrees with you, Mr. Shepard?"

"Not at all," Marcus chuckled back, winking back, "Just means we'll have to cut down on the joint-exercises, Mrs. Shepard."

A slight gag showed the squad just who had heard that particular comment, "You two are utterly shameless. Do you ever quit?"

After bumping hips, with Tali giving him a playful glare, Marcus just shrugged his shoulders, "What can I say, Garrus? Weather like this brings out the better part of me."

Garrus just snorted, "Better? That's debatable."

James once again made his two cents known, "Yeah, that was a bit too much information, loco."

"Middle of a mission and you're able to crack...those kind of jokes," Keeling added, sounding thoroughly intrigued, "You truly are a unique squad."

Liara just frowned at the special forces soldier, "Do N7 squads not crack jokes?"

Keeling just shrugged, then shook her head, "Not most N7s, no. Captain Shepard is a different matter entirely, but most N7s work as lone wolf assets. That's mostly how our training prepares us. In the Marine Corps or the Army, you'd have troopers working in squads or platoons, but N7 is meant to be much tougher; after all, the N program is meant to breed the Alliance's best. N1s start off in squads, but as they advance, they slowly ween us off the squads. Eventually, N7s mostly operate alone. Some can lead squads, like the captain chose, or others can choose special assignments ranging from assassination, wetwork or even hit enemy bases if the resistance is low enough."

"Sounds like the Blackwatch. And asari commandos," Garrus pondered, "Maybe the Alliance was inspired."

"The N program was mostly inspired by the British SAS, American Navy SEALs, Israeli Shayatet 13, etc," Keeling replied, squaring her shoulders as she did a quick check on her helmet, "That, and it was first initiated in 2144; two years after the Alliance was founded, and before the First Contact War."

Breaking up the conversation before Marcus could respond, Cortez spoke into his helmet over the comms, "Should I wait here Shepard, or run recon?"

Marcus took a quick look around him. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but rocky plains, but from the looks of it, there was a forest on the horizon to the west, but it was so miniscule one could barely see it. The occassional dust devil scoured the surface on the otherside of the canyon, but aside from that, barely any activity. Down below, the canyon floor was 360 feet below them, ending on a flat, rocky bed occupied by small pools of water likely made from a recent storm, and the odd nest.

Generally, the area was desolate. Almost no signs of life, aside from the odd roar or quawk from Rannoch's wildlife.

He turned back, responding to Cortez after a few seconds, "Find somewhere to land the shuttle and stay put, Cortez. We don't know how long this maybe. If it gets too hairy, pull out and wait until the area is clear. I'll call you when we need pick up. Shepard out."

There was no response was Cortez simply closed the hatch, lifting the shuttle up and several feet above them, blue ventral thrusters propelling it upwards. Completing its climb, the shuttle twisted forty degrees and its rear thrusters kicked in, the shuttle rocketing forward and disappearing past the wall behind them, only the retreating sound of its engines being left behind, and rapidly receding.

Turning back ahead, he noted that the walkway seemed to twist and bend around the canyon wall. The geth hadn't so much as built into the canyon as they had followed its natural formation. The walkway ran along its side, backing itself against the rocks so that a landslide could not damage it. Overall, the geth had built the walkway based on the terrain around it, eliminating the probability of natural disasters destroying it.  _Very smart. The geth have thought this through._

And it was empty. Not a single geth platform came to meet them.

_Guess Legion was right. All the geth must be hooked up to the consensus. Any reinforcements will be minutes away._

"Okay, everybody. Game faces on," Marcus ordered, quickly entering his role as commander. Shouldering his rifle, he sighted down range, and began to move forward, one step after another, "Stay frosty and keep your eyes peeled. Keep an eye out for hostiles and make sure to cover all flanks. Keeling, Garrus, cover the back. Tali, Liara, you have the flanks. James, you're with me on point."

Marcus would have commed Legion, but he couldn't risk alerting any geth to their presence. He just hoped that once they were inside, Legion would be there, waiting for them.

As his squad moved forward, trailing across the walkway, Marcus had only one thing to think about: what he was about to do. Sure, when Overlord had taken over his body, his entire world had seemed like a virtual simulation, with the geth and mechs he shot seeming like pixelated holograms. But that was just Overlord taking him over. Marcus would be mentally entering the geth consensus; the geth's true, virtual, homeworld, in almost every respect. He would be experiencing ten million geth programs all at once. He couldn't help but wonder if his brain could handle it.

And then there was the presence of Reapers within that network. Maybe, in some manner, somehow, Marcus could mentally fight off hostile geth software once inside, if they detected him. But what if the Reapers found him? How the hell could he be expected to fight off that? Fighting off one physically in real life was a challenge of its own, but battling one with nothing but mere will and brain power?

_Fuck, I can understand why Tali is so worried. But damn it, we need the location of that signal! The Reapers cannot be allowed to control the geth any longer! If Legion says there is no other option, there is no other option, damn it! I just..._

_...my entire life will rest in Legion's hands..._

_Gee, when I put it that way, it just sounds remarkably ridiculous._

_But true nonetheless. Even so, we need to win this war so we can move on to the bigger matter at hand. The Reapers aren't going to sit by while we sort our problems. Just how many colonies out there are falling while we dander about here? What didn't Hackett tell me? For all I know, Thessia could have fallen, or Sur'Kesh. Anderson could be dead, or my mum..._

_No, this needs to end. And it starts with finding that damn signal._

But even as he reassured himself of his mission, he still shook with anticipation inside. He didn't openly admit, but he was worried. It was like Tali said...any number of things could happen in that network. The mission had so many risks involved.

_Its worth the risk. For Rannoch. For every unborn quarian child. For the next generation of quarians to have a homeworld, there needs to be peace with the geth. I helped give the krogan their future, now its time to take back the one the quarians lost, and build the one the geth wanted. What they_ _**still** _ _want._

By the time he finished these thoughts, his squad had crossed most of the walkway, which had moved around a corner to reveal the geth facility built into the canyon; judging from the looks of it, it was the only piece of geth architecture in the area that  _was_ built into the environment; the walkway, again, was more attached to the canyon wall than built into it. Regardless, the entrance to the facility looked like the entrance to a huge cave, but with the smooth, grey structuring of geth designs instead of rocks and dust. It looked clean and spotless.

He hissed as the sun's gaze persisted, burning into his back. Even his built-in cooling systems couldn't regulate it, unable to fight back against the wrath of a star's light. The warmth seeped into him, heated up his armor plating. If he were to touch his armor with ungloved hands, he'd probably sting them; they had heated up that much. And from how sleek and inviting the geth facility looked... _looks colder in there. All the more reason to get inside._

He held up one fist, ordering a halt. From his view, the entrance to the geth was on a slight tilt to the right, where the canyon wall was located to begin with. Tendrils of overgrowth grew from the walls above it where soil was fertilized, bits of plants hanging down from their perch. Ontop of one particular plant was a ring of bark and some kind of plant he couldn't put a name to. The plant itself looked like a sickly orange version of the deadgrass native to Sur'Kesh. Inside was some kind of Rannochian bird. It had three eyes; one on the front of its head, two on the sides. It lacked a beak, possessing something more akin to a shark's mouth, with serated canine teeth lining its maw. Like most birds on Earth, it had a single pair of wings and possessed a large tail that seemed to be covered in a thick assortment of feathers. The bird itself was a deathly shade of red, with the odd spot of black, giving it a very demonish look. Its legs were like sausages, and ended in three-toed feet that looked oddly similar to those of quarians.

The bird squawked as another, smaller bird arrived, landing beside it. The other bird squawked back, but this one had a slightly louder keen to it; more high-pitched. The first bird squawked once more, this time more loudly and what sounded to be anger coming out in its voice, before it reached forward and sunk its teeth into the other bird's neck.

The other bird screamed defiance, but after several moments of the bird unable to move, it shut up, and the other bird released it, and within moments, began to nuzzle each other, rubbing their necks together. Several seconds later, smaller keens could be heard, and the birds looked down; likely addressing the many little chicks within the nest.

"Those are some freaky lookin' birds," James cringed, looking at the mammals in question wearily, "Wouldn't want one of those for a pet."

"I remember those. Auntie Raan used to read me old stories from the Scrolls of the Ancestors when I was a child, and the birds described look exactly like those," Tali spoke up, "Our ancestors called them  _qui'tee._ They were said to be very territorial birds, and my people attribute many of our cultural traits to them."

"Really?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her, "Like what?"

Tali was all too happy to explain, lowering her shotgun slightly, "When the  _qui'tee_ find a mate, they live with the mate for the rest of their lives, which are relatively short; usually only seven years. Other animals usually find a mate, impregnate her and leave.  _Qui'tee_ find a mate and stick with them, and are usually very protective. When the nest is threatened or their mate is harmed,  _qui'tee_ have been known to tear the eyes out of  _tilgra_ ," Noticing his confusion, she quickly doubled back and elaborated, " _Tilgra_ is plural for  _tilgrap._ Its a very big animal that move around in herds and are omnivores. They are...the closest Earth animal I'd compare them to would be...uh...a wildabeast?"

" _Wildebeest_ ," Marcus corrected, chuckling.

"Yes, that," she waved a hand, motioning to him that he knew what she was talking about, and given him a glare that said 'don't be a smartass', "They're more like a cross between a wildebeest and a rhino, actually. They're covered in fur, but have this horn on their head that the scrolls said could tear open ancient quarian skycars. Anyway, back on topic," she quickly waved off, knowing she was digressing, "The  _qui'tee_ obviously had a sense of union in terms of mates, which is where my people invented, at least to our knowledge, the notion of bonding and marriage. Also, as much as their teeth say otherwise, they're omnivores, which is where my people learnt to eat both meat and vegetables."

"I see," Marcus nodded in impression, glancing back up at the birds, "They really have influenced your people alot."

"There was also an old superstitution put around them. Back when my people ran around naked, and the females were the ones who hunted for food, and males protected the children," Tali winked at him when she said that, and he only had to roll his eyes, "It was said when a quarian dies, a  _qui'tee_ would come down and carry their soul to the afterlife."

"Sounds like my people's religious concept of angels," Keeling observed.

"That's funny," Tali quinted, looking back at Marcus, "That was my callsign back on the SR-1, during the old days. I was Angel."

"And I think I was Raptor," Garrus piped up.

"I think I was Seeker," Liara added, frowning, "Can't remember."

"Wait..." Keeling quickly hushed, turning back to Marcus, "You called her 'Angel'?"

"Yeah, he couldn't even keep his sickness out of military operations," Garrus drawled.

"Shut it, Vakarian," Marcus grumbled.

"I don't know," Tali pretended to ponder, bumping her shoulder against him, "I thought it was pretty cute, especially once I searched up what it meant."

" _Anyway_ ," he drew out, fixing everyone with firm glares, despite seeing their satisfaction at riling him up, "Tali, do you really believe the  _qui'tee_ take quarian souls to the afterlife?"

Tali just snorted, shaking her head, "I said superstitution, Marcus. Besides, back in those days, my people were still writing in stone; we didn't know any better. We used mystical imaginings to explain away natural phenomenon. Its just a myth. No fact to it."

Suddenly, a loud squawk shrilled through the canyon, followed by James crying out.

And Garrus... _laughing._

They all turned to watch with mixed reactions as one of the  _qui'tee_ dive bombed James, using the claws on the end of its toes to scratch and claw at the marine's visor. The bird angrily screeched and raged, obviously offended by James' mere presence. Garrus just continued to laugh his ass off, Tali joining him. Marcus couldn't help but chuckle slightly as well. As he turned, he noted that even Keeling was laughing, although she did try to contain it.

"Bloody  _pendejo_!" James shouted, trying to wack away the animal to no avail. The  _qui'tee_ certainly wasn't dumb. Everytime he took a swipe at it, it just dove back and then struck again when his arm retreated, and it rinse and repeated this everytime James repeated the gesture. He had no hope of winning this scenario.

In the end, for the sake of the mission (and the possibility of laughing themselves to death), Marcus raised his rifle into the air and pulled the trigger, a bright purple flash following the screech of the geth rifle firing a shot blankly into the sky.

The mere sound of it shocked the  _qui'tee_ so much that it immediately retreated back to its nest as fast as it could, screeching the entire way. Once it reached its nest, it quickly dove into it, making sure it was out of eyesight before stopping all movement. Its mate quickly joined it, and even its young fell silent.

"Ohhhhhhh," Tali crooned, looking downtrodden, "Did you  _have_ to do that? You scared the poor thing!"

"I'd be more worried for poor old, James," Marcus grinned, raising his rifle to his shoulder once more, "He looked absolutely terrified."

"Maybe it thought James was dead and came to claim his soul," Garrus stated dryly, still smirking himself, only now calming down from his laughter, "An easy mistake."

"Watch yourself, Scars," James snapped back, not looking as amused as the rest of them.

"Why? No bird mistook me for a dead person and tried to take my soul. I'm the picture of health."

"Laugh it up, Scars. You won't be as healthy when I'm done with you."

"Oh come  _on_. I  _beat_ you in that last sparring match!"

Despite his enjoyment, Marcus quickly raised a hand, ordering silence. When he had it, he nodded to the entrance, "Okay, time to cut the chatter. James, front and center. We'll go in first, evaluate the situation. Once its clear, we'll push through. I'll contact Legion, find out where we need to go."

"That will not be necessary, Shepard-Commander."

Marcus' eyes, as well as those of his squad, quickly turned back to the entrance to find Legion standing there, standing straight and staring at them. Its weapons were holstered on its back, and it made no motion to move forward or backwards as it looked to be waiting for Marcus and his squad to address it.

Finally, Marcus called out, "How's it look inside, Legion?"

"As previously stated, the superstructure is currently uninhabited. Any geth platforms within the vicinity are dormant and linked to the consensus."

Marcus nodded, but did not holster his weapon, "I trust you Legion, but there's no telling what could sneak up on us. Anything could go wrong with this; we could alert the programs in the server, or geth patrols might come looking. Better to have our weapons out and hope we don't need them."

"Acknowledged," Legion declared, finally turning around and moving into the building, "We recommend following us to the necessary connection node, Shepard-Commander."

He nodded, quickly moving into a quick, temporary jog to catch up with the geth, "You heard Legion, people. We're oscar mike."

The next few minutes were spent navigating the narrow, claustrophobic corridors of the geth facility, ducking under cabling, and moving through the occassional room housing the power core of a geth anti-aircraft gun, of which the facility had many. Aside from the odd hiss of heat diffusion systems running, or the slight hum of active nodes, the entire structure was deathly silent; even their footsteps seemed to be consumed by the walls and ceiling, numbing it to almost non-existence.

Legion moved with no grace or fluidity, it moved like a robot on auto pilot (well, it sort've was). Once it reached a corner, all it did was turn and move on. The geth did not hesitate, did not falter, did not so much as rethink its path. It knew where it was taking them, and it would take them there without even thinking about it.

The lighting of the corridors and the facility itself was, like that on the super-dreadnought, dim and very hard to see through. Sure, Tali had absolutely no problem getting through, but Marcus and the rest of the squad was forced to follow Legion very closely so as to not lose themselves. It didn't require a flashlight, but it was still pretty hard to see. So given that Legion was pretty much a walking flashlight, they just followed the geth.

Another thing Marcus noted inside was that the cold looking design of geth architecture was definitely deceiving; the humidity inside the base was almost suffocating. Obviously, the geth did not need air conditioners or heaters because they were bloody machines; they didn't feel that. So why cool themselves down? This allowed the temperature of Rannoch outside to always flow freely into the base, whether it be hot or cold, boiling or freezing.

Luckily however, the armor's cooling systems were able to work more effectively without the sun beating down on him, which meant the humidity wasn't as damaging as it could have been, but it was still pretty damn uncomfortable. He watched as James removed his own helmet, raising an armoured arm to wipe his face, which was pretty much coated in a thick blanket of sweat.

"Having fun, James?" Marcus asked, grinning slightly as he understood the man's predicament.

James just chuckled back, looking as lively as ever, "Of course, loco! I used to live on the Pacific coast! I lived in Miami, Florida! Winning hearts and minds I was! This kind of heat is pretty average, actually."

"You don't know heat until you've been to Jerusalem. Or just Israel in general," Marcus laughed back, "Now  _that_ is heat."

"I used to live in Arizona. Little house near Phoenix," Keeling added, her helmet still seated on her head, "Pretty hot there, too."

"You want heat? Miami or Darwin, that's all I'm saying," James laughed back, pulling his helmet back on as they continued.

"None of you have even been to Palaven," Garrus remarked, "Its pretty hot there too."

"Illium's humidity made it my people had to build the skyscrapers so high up to escape it," Liara added, "And Armali on Thessia gets pretty hot around the  _Yessa_  season."

"Keelah, you're on my homeworld," Tali exclaimed, shaking her head in exasperation, "We shouldn't even be having this conversation. Rannoch wins."

"Actually, Wrex would disagree on that," Garrus decided, "Rannoch's hot, but Tuchanka is a bloody nightmare. If my people could sweat, Tuchanka would make sure we found about it."

"Point," Marcus declared, "Let's just agree that we've been to hot places. Now, who loves winter?"

"Noveria was amazing compared to Tuchanka," Garrus drawled.

"I'd go to Alchera on vacation," Tali declared definitively.

"Mars, anyone?" Liara asked.

"You  _pendejos_ have no appreciation for the better things of life," James huffed, not bothering to say anything else as he was clearly outnumbered.

As the conversation died down, another few minutes were spent moving through the base. Eventually, after moving around one final corner, they reached their destination.

Or at least, they could tell they were nearing it.

Turning the next corner, they erupted into the biggest room Marcus had ever seen. It wasn't so much as big as it was  _vast._ The very room was essentially a hangar, the sheer size of it meaning it could house at least five squadrons of Alliance interceptors; hell, it could fit a friggin  _light cruiser._ The ceiling stretched up at least 20 meters above them, dim lights gleaming down at them. The entire 'hangar' was at least 100 meters in width. It was huge.

In that room was essentially  _isles_ upon isles of what looked to be sleeping pods, or at least the geth equivalent. They had the basic shape, but had a much larger glass hatch, and instead of being slightly tilted diagonally, they stood up vertically. The ones that were empty seemed to have bland interiors, with only excess ports with the corresponding attachment cables hanging out. Consoles next to the "sleeper pods", which were actually the network access nodes Legion referred to, glowed brightly, making the room the brightest in the entire hangar like area. The pods themselves were extremely tall, towering to 16 feet in height; the full size of a geth prime.

Legion did not stop, so they just kept following him. And as they looked up, from right to left, almost every single pod was occupied by a geth platform of some sort. Some had geth troopers or shock troopers, some had snipers or hoppers, and more still even had destroyers, juggernauts or primes in them. Obviously, there were no armatures or Colossi due to their sheer size, but they likely had their own set of nodes to connect to further on.

Despite the geth being unaware of their presence, Marcus couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched...and outnumbered. The geth inside were totally still; hooked up to the network, their optics dimmed to the point where they looked turned off, and absolutely frozen in position, not so much as flinch to be seen. But their optics were looking up and were able to see them while they walked past, giving off the feeling that they were indeed watching his squad move past. The idea made him tense up; convinced that the geth could suddenly leap out and attack them at any moment.

_And we'd be overwhelmed if they did. Just how many hundreds of geth soldiers are in here? If they all 'woke up'...no, musn't think like that. Come on, we're almost there._

His self-reassurances were not for naught.

With a few seconds, Legion came to a stop infront of a particular pod that wasn't occupied; its dull grey interior was empty aside from the access cables hanging from it. Marcus stopped when he realized that those cables was what he would have to use to link to the consensus. Legion didn't seem to notice however, as it simply moved towards the pod's respective console and opened the hatch, the squad coming to a stop as the hatch seemingly lift itself and then hang above with a dull clang.

The geth turned back to the spectre, seemingly read, "Shepard-Commander, you may now enter our consensus. The pod is ready."

"Uh..." he began, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked the pod up and down. Learning quickly that the geth didn't understand what he meant, he turned back to the geth and bit his lower lip, "I don't actually...I won't  _need_ those cables hooked up to me to enter the consensus, will I?"

"Affirmative," the geth declared.

Marcus gulped, looking back at the pod in horror, "Oh shit. Um...that's not going to work...that's going to involve alot of blood loss and..." Before he could continue, he realized Legion was making a low pitch electronic ping from its vocal emulators, a repeititive sound that occurred over and over until Legion realized the squad were watching him. Looking between them, it then turned back to Marcus.

He just stared at him, before letting his face twist into a frown, "What was... _that_ , Legion?"

"Shepard-Commander, we have been taking lessons from EDI in learning the organic tendency of particular cognitive experiences to provoke laughter and generate amusement. For reasons unknown, we have now deemed this important to acknowledge and develop," the geth declared.

He opened his mouth once, but then stopped, unable to form a proper response to that. He looked at Tali, but she wasn't forthcoming either, looking just as dumbfounded. Turning back, he just continued to stare wide-eyed at Legion, "Sooo...what was that sound you made?"

Legion stopped at that, cocking its head in trying to formulate a reaction. Eventually, it turned back, and... _shrugged_ , "The purpose of the organic concept of humor is to address tendencies to emulate amusement. Organics usually display amusement through the use of 'laughter.' We used to attempt this concept using our voice emulators."

This caused him to only widen his eyes further. He had to actually go over his words before speaking again, but was unable to appropriately keep the surprise from his tone, "So...that sound you made...was  _laughter_?"  _More like a geth hiccuping!_

"Yes," it replied. Noticing the slip up, it corrected, "Affirmative."

Finally, he could not hold it back. Marcus began to chuckle.

_Holy shit. I know Legion said he was evolving, but damn! Legion just attempted a laugh, and he_ _**shrugged** _ _. A geth_ _**shrugged** _ _. What's even better? He hesitated for saying anything! Geth don't hesitate! They can calculate data in the split second it takes for me to finish asking the question! And Legion hesitated! Almost as if he himself doesn't understand what's going on! God, this just gets better and better..._

Legion seemed to take his chuckling as a good sign, "Shepard-Commander, have we succeeded in provoking an amused organic response in your runtime?"

_Wait, he was trying to make me laugh? But what-ohh..._

He would slap himself inwardly if he could, "Let me guess...I don't actually need to have the cables attached to enter this network, do I?"

"Negative," Legion assured him, and he sighed in relief, "Your organic hardware makes the use of cabling inefficient and harmful to your platform. It is also unnecessary for hardware integration into the server; the cables you see are not for that purpose."

"Oh," was the sound he made, realizing he sounded like a moron saying something like that. Shaking his head, he asked the one question he knew the squad was wondering, "So...what is it for, then?"

"The cables are used to connect geth platforms to power points for the purpose of recharging battery cells and streamlining the exchange of data," the geth elaborated, turning back to the console as it began to type into it, "For the purpose of uploading to the consensus, a software extraction device will be used for direct upload. To do this, software is uploaded through a central port located beside the main visual processor."

_The optics. He's talking about the optics. They upload data through their optics._

He nodded, "Is that what it'll take with me? I don't have a 'visual processor.' Just eyes, Legion. Are you sure this'll even work? This pod isn't exactly designed for organics."

"We are currently modifying the pod for our purposes. As standard, we will simply scan your face and upload it to the network for software identification. We will then trick the server into believing you are a geth program, and it will then upload your neural patterns, believing you to be a program or runtime. They will not be able to differentiate. You will be present here in body, but your mental state will be uploaded to the consensus temporarily."

"Okay," he stated more confidently, cracking his knuckles as he turned back to his squad, "Just in case we get some unhappy customers, I want us to be prepared. James, Keeling, cover our rear. Garrus, Liara, you're up front. Tali, you'll protect me and Legion."

Tali just laughed, tapping her shotgun, "Anything trying to get to you will be reduced to little tiny fragments of metal, trust me. Including Garrus."

"Why do you always bring me into this?"

Tali didn't answer, simply turning away as she moved towards the pod, readying her shotgun. The rest of the squad did as ordered, James stood on the right side of the isle, while Keeling stood on the left, both with their weapons aimed. Liara and Garrus did the same on the other side, but Garrus went prone, sniper rifle propped on the ground expertly while Liara was behind him, crouched with her SMG aimed and ready.

Noting that his squad was in position, and his wife and Legion were waiting for him, he took a deep breath. He steeled himself, tensed his shoulders and gritted his teeth momentarily. After one final moment, he began to walk towards the pod, feeling himself almost shake from anticipation.

_Admit it, Marcus. You're fucking terrified. Humans always have feared the unknown._

_Is that necessarily a human trait?_

He was stopped from his forward motion when Legion suddenly spoke, garnering his attention. He was just outside the pod, ready to basically step in, and Tali had been moving to talk to him when Legion spoke, "Shepard-Commander, you will need to remove your weapons and helmet. Your helmet will only obstruct the data upload process. Also, the presence of weapons will not only be unnecessary, but also potentially uncomfortable for long periods of time."

He nodded, gulping as he looked up at the pod once more. He eyed it for a moment; its cold, featureless interior unassuring and foreboding. He was scared out of his wits, and the only person he would ever admit that to was standing right beside him, oblivious to his inner torment.  _I don't want to do this, but I know I have to._

_We fight or we die. That's what we're up against. Those are the odds. We fight or we die. Victory at any cost._

_Even if the cost is my sanity, and/or my life._

Steeling himself one final time, he slowly reached up and removed his helmet, hearing it give with a steady, depressed sigh. Bringing it back down, he looked into its now empty interior one final time. And that's all he did. Look. He looked down into it like he didn't want to move any further.

_What the fuck is wrong with me? I charged through those Tuchankan ruins with Vanguard shooting down at me and Kalros attacking without even hesitating. I mowed down Cerberus on the Citadel without flinching. Why is it only_ _**now** _ _I begin to doubt myself? Why is it now I'm afraid?_

It hit him in an instant.  _Because I'll be in an unknown place, with unknown hostiles, with only Legion watching over me. No weapons, no armor, nothing to fight. And a situation like that always scared me when I joined the military. Even on Elysium, I at least had a knife. Here...I don't know what to do._

Suddenly, a pair of hands landed on his and slowly eased the helmet out of his hands, and took it away. He turned, frowning, watching as Tali placed it on the ground before turning back towards him. She immediately saw the worry in his eyes, and quickly raised a hand to his cheek, stroking it.

He shrunk back in his mind, not wanting to worry her too much, "Guess my weapons are next."

Reaching down, he quickly and rapidly removed his sidearm, followed by his SMG, and handed them over. She hesitated for a moment, looking at him with uncertainty, before quickly nodding and letting his weapons join his helmet on the ground. Without missing a beat, he snapped off his pulse rifle as well, followed by his claymore, and by the time all his weapons were gone, he was only covered in armor, sans his helmet. It didn't calm him any.

_I feel too exposed. Naked. I don't like it at all._

He clenched his fists, then unclenched them. The stress alleviated slightly, but not much. But it was enough.

Suddenly, he found himself slowly eased around. Once turned, slim quarian arms wrapped around his neck, visor nuzzling his neck. He returned it, squeezing her gently as he pressed his own face into her own neck. They stood there for a few moments, Tali just rubbing the back of his neck tenderly while whispering sweet nothings into his ear. It eased his nerves, gave him something else to think about. In a moment, his tension evaporated, like it had never existed.

He felt content. He felt safe. He felt like nothing could conquer him.

Eventually, their silence was broken and Tali's voice was replaced by Legion's electronic voice, "Shepard-Commander, we are now ready for implementation. You may proceed."

With some reluctance, they parted after a few more seconds, their arms retreating but Tali's visor bumping up against his forehead. She activated their private comm, so that noone else could hear what she had to say, "Please,  _please_ be okay in there. Don't take any unnecessary risks. If things get...intense, you get out of there. You hear me? I don't care what Legion says or how close you are...you get out of there. I'm not going to lose you on my homeworld."

He whispered back, using both hands to cup her head gently, "I promise I won't take any risks. If it gets too insane, I'll schedaddle. Got it."

His wife just sighed, loudly gulping as she gathered her next words, "I just...I know you'll be fine. Keelah, I'm worried. The idea that I won't be with you in there. I'll be stuck out here, guarding your pod...while you're trapped in there, fighting holograms."

"It terrifies you just as much as it terrifies me," he responded, "But you need to be strong. Besides, I'll feel alot better knowing you're just outside. I feel safer already."

Tali just shook her head, "Hugs don't do much against malware."

"You know what I mean," he chastized, before pulling away and kissing her visor, "Hopefully, we'll be out of there in no time.  _Ni se'miel_ , Tali."

Her response was the barest of whispers, " _Ni se'miel_ , Marcus. You come back to me, damn you."

Pulling away from him, she turned straight to Legion, crossing her arms, "He's in your hands now, Legion. Please, for ancestors' sake, keep him  _safe._ Ancestors know he won't."

"Hey!" Marcus complained, waving his arms in exclamation and offense, "That's not fair! I can keep myself safe when I want to."

Legion responded before Tali could, "We will protect Shepard-Commander as requested, Creator Tali'Shepard."

"Good," was her simple reply, and the squinting of her eyes beyond the visor confirmed she was smiling. Marcus only shook his head before turning back to the pod. When he did, his nervousness did not return, nor did he find himself scared. He felt confident and prepared and, most of all, he felt safe. That was Tali's influence.  _Thanks, Tali. Wouldn't be anywhere without you._

_God knows how I survived this war without her. Earth, Mars, Menae, Sur'Kesh, Grissom Academy, Illium, Tuchanka, the Citadel attack...how did I make it through all of that without her? How did I cope with Mordin and Thane's deaths?_

_That's a question for the shrinks._

Finally, with one last inhale and exhale of breath, he took Tali's hand, squeezed it gently and then let go, lifting one leg into the pod, followed by another. Within a second he was inside. He had to shove some of the cabling aside, and he did note that the top of the pod was quite a bit above him; after all, it was built to house up to the tallest geth prime. Once the cabling was moved, he quickly turned around, coming to stand in the middle of the pod, facing outwards.

A loud click was heard, and before he knew it, the pod lid had closed over the pod, sliding into place with a screech. All he saw from his position was Tali, watching him through the pod. She reached out a hand and laid it on the pod's hatch from her side, splaying out her three-fingers. He raised his own, armoured hand, placing it on the glass where hers was on the opposite side, splaying out his own five-fingers. They just looked at each other, until Legion spoke in Marcus' ear.

"Shepard-Commander, we recommend you remain absolutely still for the next process. This requires you to lower your hand and look up at the connection's node upper sensor."

With a sad smile, he removed his hand, as did Tali, but she did not leave the pod's side. She said something, as the vocalizer on her helmet blinked steadily to show she was talking, but he could only hear mumbles as the glass of the pod's hatch numbed and absorbed her voice. All he could do was offer one last smile before looking up, and putting his serious face on.

After looking at the sensor for a second, he was greeted by a burst of brilliant, blue light which immediately began to lance up and down, side to side across his face repeatedly. Individual light pulses scanned his retinas, temporarily blinding him, but the others continued to scan his face continuously. He could hear a steady beep, and he kept listening as it increased with the intensity of the scan. Eventually, the beep reached its peak and ceased, followed by the scanning lights disappearing. Wondering what happened, he was about to ask Legion what was next when his entire world suddenly exploded in blinding white light.

What he saw next was beyond imagination.

_**A/N:** _

_**To be continued! Nah, just joking. This is just part 1 of...2? Possibly 3? We'll see how we go.** _

_**And yes, I might have placed alot of time and effort to explaining the history of a bird, but I am sort've developing my own, personal head canon here, so give me so headway. Also, I take full credit for the creation of the qui'tee (simply because I made it up), but the invention of the Tilgra (which is plural for Tilgrap) goes to Calinstel of the To Survive series. The description of the animal is mine (as I don't think Calinstel ever did properly describe them; he only seemed to mention them), but the actual name of the animal itself derives from To Survive.** _

_**And no, Rannoch is not a desert planet. Its called a 'Garden World' for a reason. Rannoch was also chosen as the planet name FOR A REASON. After all, Rannoch is just Khelish for "Walled Garden." So this whole thing ME3 had going where it had us believe Rannoch was just desert, rocks, mountains and canyons I personally think was bullshit. So my canon is this: Rannoch is very similar to Earth, but smaller and with less emphasis on ocean, and more on land. Rannoch gets rain. It has a "winter", but does not have snow. Rannoch's temperatures (in Celsius) can reach up to 50 degrees at its hottest, and 3 degrees at its coldest. Wind speeds can be stronger than Earth, and Rannoch has no insect life. The rest can be explained further in the story.** _

_**Anyway, I'll see you in Part 2!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	48. Counterfactual History, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard journeys through the history of the First Morning War in his search for the Reaper signal's source.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX:**

**COUNTERFACTUAL HISTORY PART TWO**

_July 9, 2186_

_ERROR. CAN'T CALCULATE._

_Server Hub 02241-14511, Geth Consensus._

_Second Morning War, Operation: Pinpoint._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

A few second passed by where Marcus had no idea where he was.

A few seconds might as well have been an eternity as the white light encompassed his vision, blinding it. Nothing but the light existed, and because of it, Marcus had no way of knowing whether or not what they had tried to do had worked. Was he dead? Had Legion's attempt to integrate him into the geth consensus actually end up killing him?

_Funny, I don't remember death looking like this. And I should know: I've been there._

But if this wasn't death, what was it? It couldn't be success; the geth consensus couldn't possibly be white light, could it? If it was, how the hell was he supposed to do anything?  _I can't bloody see! I could reach my hand out and not see anything!_ But the light's existence persisted, and for what seemed like pure, torturous eternity, he simply didn't move, waiting for the white light to absolve, or do something...something other than blind him.

A few more seconds passed, and still nothing. When he was beginning to grow impatient, that's when it happened; the white was receding...

Then, suddenly, the white flashed once more, causing him to cry out momentarily and close his eyes. When nothing further happened, and he felt like no bodily harm had been brought to him, he quickly opened his eyes, and stood straighter.

What greeted him was not an endless white expanse.

He could only stand in awe as what he saw was not the endless, vast hangar filled with isles of pods with geth hooked up in each one. No, what he saw was far larger. Much more  _vast_. What greeted him was a vast ocean of what appeared to be grey, non-descript cubes whose edges glowed dimly with orange light. These cubes were interconnected and interweaved with each other, making a ground that resembled that of a massive set of grids, all networked together. And that was all there was; just a huge ocean. A  _planet._ An entire universe full of glowing grids made of featureless cubes. He looked forward, and he noted that the place had a  _horizon_...one of which was also made of cubes and grids.

He looked west, he looked east...hell, he looked to the  _sky._  No matter where he looked, it was all the same. Nothing but those grids. Nothing but cubes. Not another discernable feature. It was... _odd._

As he watched, what looked to be a swarm of the cubes shot by, faster than his vision could properly register; they looked like blurs. Another swarm shot by, this one heading dead ahead, towards the horizon. A particular cluster arrived at the ceiling, where they became a part of a particular set of grids, creating a new one. They did so without a sound, with so much as beep or screech or thud. That, or it was muffled.

The next thing he noticed was how disoriented he felt. He was feeling light headed, and his vision was slightly fuzzy. When he brought a hand up to his face, he realized that his hand was armoured. Looking down, he widened his eyes as he observed his armoured form. From head to toe, his Terminus Assault Armor gleamed in the orange light of the cubes, showing that he was still wearing it. Letting his hand continue towards his face, he frowned when he felt it bump against glass, and when he focused his eyesight, overcoming his light-headedness, he realized that he was wearing his helmet again.

_What the...? But I took that off! Tali placed it next to the pod! How do I have it back on?_

The realization quickly brought him into action, and he seemed to totally forget his vertigo as he fought to move. The first thing he observed was that he was still in the pod. Or at least, what seemed like the pod.  _Is it possible the pod is a figment of my imagination? I am within the network, am I not? That_ _ **is**_ _what I'm looking at, right? So if the pod is my imagination, than perhaps my brain is_ _ **thinking**_ _of a helmet, which is why I'm wearing one._

_This shit is like fucking Green Lantern. I hope the geth didn't take notes when making this network._

To test his theory, he quickly closed his eyes and imagined himself without a helmet. When he opened his eyes, he noticed that his HUD was gone, and upon further examination, nothing was permeating his peripherals; he was helmetless. Closing his eyes again briefly, he thought of himself with a helmet, and when he opened them, sure enough, he had a helmet on again.  _Okay, now_ _ **that's**_ _some trippy shit. Am I sure I didn't just snort some red sand? Is this a fucking dream?_

He moved to exit the pod, but he merely bumped against it, the sound being the muffled sound of metal banging against glass...loudly. Noting that the pod was closed, he decided to try his luck again and began to close his eyes.  _Hopefully this works._

Once closed, he imagined that the pod wasn't there.

Confident his thoughts were foremost in his mind, he opened his eyes again.

A smile crossed his lips as he noted that the pod was now gone, standing alone in the vast plains of grids and cubes that he was inhabiting. He took another look around, this time turning south to see if there was any difference...nothing. That only confirmed it; this world was solely derived from these damn  _cubes._

He took note of the lack of sound. He couldn't even hear his own breathing. He raised a hand and slammed it against his chestplate. The sound was there, but it was faint; a bare whisper, nowhere near as loud as it should be. He could have blinked and missed the sound. He began to whistle and, strangely enough, he could hear it, crystal clear, like he would in the normal world. He stopped whistling after that, frowning as he squared his shoulders, looking around the area hesitantly. Swarms continued to shoot past, heading off to seemingly random directions, while others continued to merge into their environment or seemingly dissolve into nothing.

This was the geth server hub. This was the home of the geth.  _Their_ homeworld.

With a gulp, he cleared his throat. He needed to talk. To say something. This unnerving silence was beginning to get to him; it was gaining a grip on his mind. He couldn't let it determine his sanity. The emptiness and silence was just...overwhelming.

He reached out, hoping the person in question would hear, "Legion?"

A few seconds passed, and initially, there was no answer. When it was becoming increasingly clear to him that no answer was forthcoming, he opened his mouth to speak again, only for a thundering voice to respond, seemingly coming from all around him.

"Shepard-Commander," it stated simply. He turned in all directions as he heard it, as the voice seemed to come from the very world  _itself_ , not a single person. The voice was also thunderous; impossibly loud, even somehow being capable of drowning out that of a Reaper. But to his ears, it seemed normal; it did not hurt his voice, despite the decibels of it in reality being enough to leave him deaf.

Then he heard it to his right; the sound of wind, whispering through the air.

He whirled around in time to watch as Legion's form came into being, pulled together by seemingly holographic pixels and projections. It glowed brilliant blue, and despite him knowing Legion wasn't  _physically_ there with him, he felt safer just seeing the geth. A lot less...alone.

_This place seriously creeps me out. No organic was ever meant to be here, and it shows._

Legion's hologram fizzled and stuttered, but it was present, and when it spoke again, its voice was, although loud, alot more welcomed than the dull silence of solitude, "Shepard-Commander, welcome to our consensus."

He frowned, turning to face the geth fully, "I thought you said we were entering a single network, one for this particular server hub?"

Legion simply shook its head, "You misunderstand. All networks are seperate, but are part of the consensus as a whole. As we have explained, the consensus is divided into multiple servers, which are then divided into their own subdivisions to better congregate and cohesively organize processes, ideas and decisions made by the geth. The network we wish to access is not a single entity, but part of the larger entity. It is all around us, yet we must reach it."

This not allay his confusion. All it did was confuse him further.  _That's quite a mind fuck_ , "I still don't get it."

"It is difficult to simplify into terms organics can process," the geth explained, "The simplest way to explain it is that all networks and servers are part of the consensus. To access a server, you access the consensus. To access a cohort, you access the consensus. They are a part of the consensus. They are all around us at the same time, but we must also reach them simultaneously. They are the same entity. The closest metaphor this platform can extrapolate and applicate to this situation are document folders organics use on their terminals. You congregate your files into that folder, and when you enter it, you are looking for that file, yet it is always there. The consensus is that folder, and the servers are the documents within it. They are one."

 _I still don't get it._ He sighed, shaking his head, and shrugged, "So we need to reach it, yet we've already reached it?"

"Yes," the geth declared, nodding, "We have reached the server, but we must now work to shut it down. But we must all be careful. All servers just symbiosis with the consensus. We must be careful not to unintentionally damage other servers; for this purpose, we will guide you to the appropriate nodes as we find them."

He nodded, and took a step forward. As soon as his foot hit the ground however, the grid seemed to flash rapidly for the briefest of moments, accompanied by an odd sound; it sounded like an electronic  _blull._ Noting this, he jumped up and down repeatedly, and the same sound was made.  _Blull, blull, blull, blull._

"Legion, what exactly is this?" he inquired, getting even more weirded out as he looked upon the grid. There just wasn't something right about them, "What are these cube things? Is this what the consensus looks like?"

"What you see is what we have generated for your organic interpretation," Legion explained, standing still as a bone as it talked, the only movement being its headflaps, "Our consensus does not have a visual or physical aspect given that is not a tangible environment; it is a conglomeration of software and networks linked together. However, we reviewed your organic processes and deemed that generating a physical environment would be more efficient for your platform and allow you to react accordingly."

"So all of this..." Marcus waved his hand around to gesture to the endless expanse of cubes around him, "...is just what I'm seeing? This is how I  _want_ to view it, but necessarily how it actually looks?"

"Our consensus does not have a visual aspect. It cannot be tangibly seen, and is not subject to the organic five senses. It cannot be smelt, touched, seen, heard or tasted. What you see is merely a physical aspect applied to our consensus so that your organic brain can incorporate these senses. Without them, your effectiveness during this mission would be rendered a liability."

"So all of this is effectively a simulation? None of what I'm seeing is real?"

"Yes," it replied simply.

He nodded, looking down at the cubes below him, "But if I'm seeing the world how I want to see it, why not a planet? Why is my brain choosing cubes and grids? What sense does that make?"

Legion thought about this for a moment, longer than normal, before responding, "As we have stated, our consensus is not designed for organic interface. Your presence was an improvization constructed from rapid, unforeseen necessity. As a byproduct, we were unable to develop the simulation software that is currently being applicated to allow you to experience our consensus tangibly. Because of this, we were unable to perceive a complex environment of which you would be comfortable, nor did we possess the time. In the end, we elected to use a fundamental template. In your mind, this basic template is 'cubes and grids.' We apologize for lack of creative intuition."

He just shrugged, looking down at the cubes as he stepped on them, "But...what are they exactly? What do these cubes represent? The ground?"

It shook its head, "No, what you perceive as cubes are actually individual geth programs."

He stopped moving and froze to the spot. It took his mind a split second to realize just what that implied, and he placed his foot back down gently, the cube still blinking and giving off its dull  _blull_ sound.

"Geth...programs?" he gulped, looking up at the geth and motioning to the cubes and grids all around him, "You're telling me that every single one of those cubes out there is a...a geth program? I'm walking on  _geth_?"

"Correct," Legion confirmed, "When we processed the simulation, we needed to provide a physical representation of everything involved in the consensus' framework. First and foremost, all geth software present needed to be presented sufficiently. Due to a combination of the fundamental template and your history with geth platforms, we elected to not use real-time geth combat hardware as a representation, and instead used these cubes."

Marcus looked back out, and when he saw the expanse again, he saw it in an entirely different light.

_There must be billions..._ _**thousands of trillions** _ _of cubes out there...all of them individual geth..._

_And I'm walking all over them._

"If I'm walking all over them, how the  _hell_ do they not know I'm here?" he looked up in exasperation.

"Once again, what you see is only a physical representation. All has been organized for organic comfortability and ease of access. As such, all has been arranged or rearranged to make the representation more comprehensible for the organic form. What you perceive as geth is true, but their dispositioning is not. You perceive yourself walking over them, when in reality, you cannot, because, again, they are not tangible matter. The cubes have been used to represent the geth, but in the real consensus, they are not."

With that explanation, he calmed down, sort've understanding what the geth meant, "Its sorta like moving through a forest at night as a kid. If you perceive the trees as little ponies, then it helps the kid move more calmly and without fear."

"We have not observed the application of this metaphor," Legion declared, and after a moment, it concluded, "But we will accept its sensicality. You are correct."

With this explained, he stepped forward again and then remained rooted to the spot, simply watching the cubes in the distance...the  _geth_...shoot past and merge with the other cubes.

Finally, he spoke again, "Soo...what exactly do I do? I've noticed that I can think things, and then they happen. I've tried that with weapons, but that doesn't seem to do anything."

"You can only think of things you currently possess," Legion described, "For example, when you entered the pod, you were wearing your armor. As a result, the simulation has been programmed to represent your own form with the same armor. You did not possess weapons when entering, so the simulation has not been programmed to represent weaponry. However, the simulation has also been programmed to rearrange items, meaning that if your neural patterns dictate so, your armor may be removed from the simulation, or brought back, at your convenience."

"What about the helmet?" he asked, "I didn't wear the helmet when I went in. How do you explain that?"

"The helmet is a part of your armor. The simulation has been programmed to represent every conceivable part of the armor. It is likely it saw an error in the fact that you lacked a helmet, and likely corrected that error using existing records on the armor configuration. However, because of the programming constraints, you can also dictate whether or not the simulation removes it or not."

 _One complex thing after another. Its enough to make your head spin._ He just waved his hand in confusion, unsure of what he was supposed to do, "So...what exactly do I do now? I can't just stand here, obviously. And I've never done anything like this, so I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

"We must locate the necessary server nodes so that we may tap into their data arrays," Legion explained, turning away from him and towards the expanse infront of them, "Once located, you must tap into them. Once tapped in, we will use you as a broadcasting amplifier so that we can access the node and extract the necessary data. In organic terms, we will 'piggyback' on your form into the node."

He nodded, "And how many nodes are there?"

Legion's response wasn't immediate, "Data not available. Likely a dozen. But we need only access core data nodes; of those, there are only ten. Once all ten have been accessed, we will be able to access the network itself and, through it, the core knowledge of the geth programs within it. We will then...extract the information."

He looked at the geth sadly, "You mean forcibly take it, don't you?"

The geth nodded regretfully, "Accessing the core knowledge of geth programs, unlike what your task will do,  _will_ alert them. Unfortunately, as they are hostile to this platform, we will be forced to take the information using brute force."

"I'm sorry Legion," he stated sorrowfully, hanging his head with regret. He couldn't imagine what it was like having to kill your own people, people you considered allies before, "That can't be easy."

Legion shook its head, "We do what we must. My people will remain under Old Machine control if the signal is not disabled. We must find it. There is no alternative."

_He just called the geth his 'people.' Legion really is evolving. He's becoming more organic the more we stand here._

"So how exactly do I get there?" Marcus asked, trying to divert what was clearly a harrowing topic for the geth, crossing his arms over his chest, "How exactly do I...uh... _reach_ the node. A matter of fact, how do I even recognize it when I see it?"

The geth turned back to him, "We will guide you, Shepard-Commander. We will direct you to each node. Once found, we will instruct you on what to d-" it suddenly cut itself off, its head jerking to and fro, headflaps becoming chaotic as they danced along its head erratically.

His eyes widened in alarm as he suddenly felt himself moving towards the geth, stopping infront of him, "Legion? Legion, what's wrong? What's going on?" his geth comrade gave no response, so he persisted, "Legion, talk to me!"

After a few moments, it nodded and turned back to him, headflaps relaxing and head ceasing movement as its optics looked at him, "Old Machine infection within consensus is more extensive than originally analyzed. We have detected layers of Old Machine code throughout every server."

Suddenly, a hologram appeared before Legion, depicting what looked to be a large, pulsing vein. Upon closer inspection however, he noted that the vein was made of cubes, each one pulsing brightly and bulging every few seconds. Unlike the geth cubes however, these ones weren't a dull grey and didn't pulse orange; these ones were a bright, sickly yellow; and pulsed red occassionally. It looked like a long tendril; malicious and vicious. Like a stationary viper, ready to strike.

"Is that the Old Machine code?" Marcus asked.

"Negative," the geth declared, shaking its head as it enlarged the icon, bringing it to scale; the infection strand, as he was now going to dub it, was twice the height of a prime, and its length indeterminate, "The cubes you see that make up the infection are not individual Old Machine programs, but are splinters of individual, sentient Old Machine programs. They are not actual Old Machines, but are sentient software created for the purpose of controlling the infection. Infection is present throughout the consensus."

"How bad is it?" Marcus asked cautiously, arms crossed, "Will this change anything?"

Legion was quick to show its disagreement with that assertion, "Negative. We were aware of the Old Machine presence within our servers, but not at how extensive it was; however, this does not change the variables. What you're seeing is the sentient Old Machine programs have grouped together to create concentrated bundles of software to fortify their old on the server. They also serve as firewalls. It is likely the Old Machines have prepared for this eventuality."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Marcus asked, waving his hand at the huge hologram, "Its like you said, I'm just organic. How the hell am I supposed to get through that?"

Legion's response was simple. The hologram of the strand evaporated as Legion turned back to him, optics focused solely on him, looking determined, "Combat measures will be necessary."

_Combat...wait, he can't possibly mean...?_

Marcus just frowned, cocking his head as he spoke, "Wait Legion, are you telling me I'm supposed to  _fight_ that? To  _kill_ that? I thought you said nothing in here is tangible! Wouldn't using weapons in the consensus not only be impossible, but illogical? And even if I could, I don't have any! The simulation didn't generate them, remember?"

Legion nodded, "You are correct and incorrect, Shepard-Commander. You are correct in that the world you perceive is only tangible because the simulation makes it so for your conveinence. Even with this however, nothing of practicality in the real world will work against practicality in the consensus. If geth programs decide to attack you, your armor will not work. However, because of the representation, a weapon can be used as a physical metaphor in the presence of a brute force virus."

He raised an eyebrow, "You're going to have to explain that one."

Legion was all too happy to oblige, "This platform can produce a weapon using the simulator's code that can interface and exist within the consensus' boundaries as a brute force virus. This virus will be configured with reverse-engineered Old Machine code, and can destroy other Old Machine code fragments or programs when enough force is applied. However, we cannot use this virus because its usage will draw attention to your presence. However, your organic existence, as we explained, has not been experienced in the consensus before, and therefore geth and by extension, perhaps the Old Machines, will not detect you, or at least not initially. You will be able to use the virus."

"How?" Marcus asked, wanting to see where the geth was going with this.

"A weapon," it stated simply, "As we have stated, the simulation helps you see our consensus in a way your organic mind can comprehend. Because of this, it will apply organic concepts and necessities to our consensus, even if isn't physically or mentally correct or possible. For the simulation, we can produce you a hand-held heavy weapon capable of destroying Old Machine firewalls. So while, in the actual consensus, you are using a virus, in the simulation, you are firing a weapon."

"So in layman's terms, I'll be shooting the firewalls using a heavy weapon or rifle that fires the virus." Noting Legion's nod, he knew he had understood that right, so he continued, "So how will that virus be represented?"

"The virus will be represented as directed energy. It will look and produce the effect of an Arc Projector."

He whistled, smiling slightly.  _Shooting Reapers, even if not literally, with virtual lightning. I like it already._

"I don't know about you Legion, but I say do it," he declared, "I'm not about to let those firewalls stop us from finding the signal's source. There can be no going back, Legion. It's all or nothing. Give me the weapon."

"Acknowledged," Legion declared. After a moment, it spoke again, "Shall we alert Creator Tali'Shepard?"

"Why?" he asked, "I'm in no danger. Well, no more than we knew I would be going in."

"The usage of this weapon will not be detected initially, but the destruction of their firewalls will draw the attention of the Old Machine code and, eventually, the Old Machine programs themselves. If they find you - when they find you - we cannot guarantee being able to sufficiently battle them."

 _So I could die. Got it._ He shook his head, "We've got to take that chance, Legion. War is risk. And right now, this war needs to end to concentrate on the bigger one. We're going to end this, and if that means I have to take this risk, so be it. So no, don't alert Tali. She'll just try to pull the plug."

"Shepard-Commander is asking this platform to lie to Creator Tali'Shepard."

"Its not lying if you never tell her, its just withholding the truth."

"You are asking to withhold vital information pertaining to your safety that Creator Tali'Shepard has explicitly asked for."

"Legion, sometimes you have to think for yourself. That's the price of the new freedoms and emotions you're getting. You've got to make a choice Legion; tell her or don't. But think about this: how badly do you want to see coexistence between your people and the quarians?"

Legion didn't answer. Its headflaps just moved for a few moments before providing something pertaining to a response, "We will not inform Creator Tali'Shepard of the possible danger. We will guide you."

He nodded, "Thank you, Legion."

Suddenly, pixels began to gather infront of it, and he hesitantly took a step back, "What's happening?"

"Your weapon is ready, Shepard-Commander."

True to its word, the pixels continued to gather until the weapon solidified, hovering in place. Like all geth weapons and, by extent, their architecture, it was grey/silver and streamlined; simple, yet elegant. It had the base of a pulse rifle, but where front end should be was missing, replaced by a large, circular hole, almost as if the front had been chopped off. Three appendages stretched out around it, curving inward; likely the energy emitters.

Reaching out, he dropped his finger on it, trying to see if it was still holographic. To his surface, his finger met solid resistance, blocking by its tough, yet smooth, surface. Reaching out both hands, he gently took it, physics taking over as it weighed in his hands. Strangely however, the weapon was as light as a pistol, despite how bulky he knew it should be. He shouldered it, the butt pinned against his shoulder blade as he looked down the 'sights' of it. He spun on the spot, testing his grip within the trigger. The weapon was as light as a feather, and easy to aim.

It was perfect.

"Shepard-Commander, is the weapon compatible with your hardware?"

Marcus just grinned, lowering the new weapon slightly, "Its fine, Legion. So, where to first?"

Legion said nothing, simply standing there. A few moments later however, cubes began to redirect themselves, moving towards his seemingly hovering platform as they began to merge and extend upon it. When they were finished, a ramp had appeared infront of him, along with a walkway stretched on ahead. The cubes had made him a path.

"You may proceed, Shepard-Commander. We will watch over you." And with that, Legion's hologram evaporated.

Taking a deep breath, he shouldered his weapon once more, cracked his neck, and took one step after another down the ramp. The  _blull, blull, blull_ was all he could hear as he moved, but he steadily increased speed as he moved down the path.

_Time to find that signal._

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_ERROR. CAN'T CALCULATE._

_Server Hub 02241-14511, Geth Consensus._

_Second Morning War, Operation: Pinpoint._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

The more he continued, the further the virtual world around him opened up.

As he traversed, the pod behind him winked out of existence, the cubes and grids holding up the platform shooting out in different directions, merging with other cubes or simply disappearing altogether. Even as he moved, the path behind him steadily began to disperse, while the path before him continued to grow, leading him towards his destination. Marcus knew Legion was the one forming his path, and that the geth would not lead him astray; the path was simply taking him to his first destination, and the first node.

After a while, the straight path verged off to the right, so he continued to follow it, the ground still giving off the loud, reverbrating  _blull, blull, blull_ as he moved forward. The weapon in his hand, which he had taken to calling the Virus, continued to feel as light as a feather, yet as usable as a pistol. He reckoned he could even wield it with one hand, although his inexperience with holding a heavy weapon like that would probably leave it awkward, and therefore not practical. So the weapon remained contained against his shoulder, both hands gripping it, as they moved along, always keeping his eyes downrange so no surprises got the better of him.

After all, he was in the geth's world now. He was as vulnerable as ever.

He made sure to keep his pace slow and steady; running could trigger unwanted attention, and he didn't want that. The geth might not know he was there, but he had no guarantee that running around wouldn't alert the Reapers controlling them. So he essentially had to walk in stealth without alerting the enemy, he was alone while doing it, with alot of lives riding on his shoulders.

_Sounds way too familiar. Hopefully it doesn't end with me blowing up the whole server._

But even as he walked, he felt strangely...alone. Technically, he was. But he knew that he was being watched and guided...

...but he wasn't physically there.

To relieve his concerns, he spoke out, eyes remaining on the path before him, "Legion?"

"We are here, Shepard-Commander," the geth declared, its disembodied once again echoing across the server, "Do you require assistance?"

"No," he stated simply, taking a deep breath as his concerns were allated, "Just...um...just wanted some...uh...forget it. Its nothing."

"Very well," it stated in reply.

They moved through the server, but it still didn't feel like he was making any progress. Everytime he looked around, it didn't seem like he had actually moved from the same area, let alone reaching the horizon. Was it because the place was constantly rearranging itself? What he saw before was perhaps different to before? Or was he just going insane?

_Insanity doesn't sound very nice. I'd prefer not to go batshit crazy, especially not when cooped up in here._

A ramp appeared before him, but before he could do much else, Legion's voice blared across the area, addressing him, "Shepard-Commander! Old Machine firewalls have been detected and are blocking organic access to the node. You will need to breach the relevant firewalls to proceed."

He could see them before Legion even finished speaking. Reaching the top of the ramp, which lead down, he could see a long path stretching to the north. However, the path abruptly ended not far away, many of the cubes blinking an angry red. Blocking their path was the Reaper firewall Legion referred to, and had shown him; a long, snake-like tendril that seemed to stretch from the ceiling and deliberately streak infront of the path, blocking it. It pulsed with its sickly orange cubes, all of them merged together, angry and hot looking.

_Finally. I get to see exactly what this does._

"You sure this'll penetrate the firewall, Legion?" he asked, eying the virus one more time, looking at it skeptically, "These are Reapers were are talking about."

"There is a 96.8% percent chance of the virus working on the Old Machine firewalls. However, the more the weapon is used, its chances decrease. The Old Machines will inevitably become aware of the virus and study it. As it is used more, they will eventually adapt to it."

He whistled, not liking the sound of that at all, "So, basically destroy any firewalls that get in my way, and hope there aren't that many? As if this couldn't get any harder."  _Someone remind me to never say that again. When people say things like that, they'll usually do get harder. Fucking jinxes._

"Okay," he licked his lips, taking aim with the virus as he sighted the firewall. It pulsed brillantly in his sights, making it a perfect, easy target. He was close enough for the weapon to take effect...he hoped. His finger danced along the trigger, eventually pressing against it. With one more shuddering breath, he closed his mouth, pressed his cheek against the cold material of the weapon, and inhaled, "Let's see what this baby can do."

He pulled the trigger back, and watched with delight as a lance of what looked to be lightning shot out from the barrel, reaching out towards the tendril at incredible speed. The weapon barely shuddered; no noticable recoil impacted against him, so he just continued to hold down the trigger as lightning bolt after lightning bolt continued to dance from the weapon, slamming into the tendril with brutish, unequalled force.

Once the first bolt hit, it was like a bomb going off. The tendril seemed to shrink back from it, as if it had been violently slapped. The second bolt caused many of the bricks to disintegrate and explode, each one flashing brightly as they were destroyed. He just continued to hold down the trigger as more of the tendril was destroyed, cube by cube, brilliant flash by brilliant flash.

Moments later, he released the trigger and lowered the weapon, admiring his handiwork. The tendril had been sliced in two, with one half sitting across from his right, and the other hanging from the ceiling. The virus had totally evicerated it, and he couldn't help but smile as the area where the tendril once was now being rapidly taken by the path. The path continued until it ran into another, much larger, tendril.

Confident now, he raised the weapon and moved down the ramp. Once he was in range, he opened up again and, like before, the tendril was annihilated under the intense fire, Marcus holding the trigger until the path was able to continue again. And Marcus continued with it.

More tendrils followed, at least four or five, but Marcus just batted them aside like they were a nuisance. Suffice to say, the Reaper firewalls were simply no match for the weapon he possessed, and from the looks of it, they showed no sign of adaptation; they didn't get stronger, and they didn't strike back. He just continued to cut through them like they were butter.

In no time he had reached the first node, which looked to be a tower made out of the cubes. In the middle, the tower seemed to have a section cut out, with said section glowing brightly. An explosion of white light blasted out from the ground, which glowed so intensely that it was able to reflect off his armor. He carefully approached it, ascending the ramp presented to reach it. He stopped just before it, the white light being almost blinding. When he looked into it, he was oddly reminded of the human concept of the 'light at the end of the tunnel.'

_Its just a node, Marcus. Stop being an idiot._

"What do I do, Legion?" he asked, knowing that by now he did not need to speak directly to the geth, as it was all around him at once; almost like his own personal God.

"Merely step into the node, Shepard-Commander. We will coordinate connection."

Marcus nodded at the response and, per instruction, lowered his weapon and stepped into the light. As soon as he stepped into it, the light reached full intensity, blinding him momentarily. But just as quickly as it consumed him, the light quickly receded, dumbing down until it was gone entirely, presenting nothing but the usual ground. The top of the tower seemed to ascend and merge into the ceiling as well. Looking around in confusion, he noted that nothing really had happened, but no new path was presenting itself. He quickly raised his weapon, suddenly alarmed, not liking what was happening. Something about this felt wrong.

_That was too quick. Where the hell is the node now?_

"Do not be alarmed, Shepard-Commander," Legion reassured, "We have extracted the information we needed from the connection node. We are analyzing it now. We cannot proceed until the information is deciphered. If you are interested, we have found archived historical information that you may find interesting."

He lowered his gun, calming down slightly, relieved. But while he was unable to see the geth, he still frowned, rendered curious by the geth's statement, "'Archived historical information'? What do you mean, Legion?"

The geth did not answer. "Rendering holographic information," Legion stated, "One moment."

And one moment later, the entire room changed.

One second, he had been standing in the geth consensus. A second later, and the entire consensus was gone, replaced by a green haze. For a few moments, this green haze struggled to arrange itself, but it quickly found its structure, and within seconds pixels had arranged the form of a room all around him. The room wasn't to scale; it had been larger due to the size of the simulation itself. Marcus stood in the middle, the tower he was standing on the only thing remaining of the original simulation; all other cubes and grids were gone. The room finally finished arranging itself, even as he looked around in awe; it was a laboratory. However, he didn't recognize the architecture; it was simple and efficient, not imperial like those of human structures, or resonating beauty like asari ones. It was quick and to the point; extremely utilitarianistic.

And for some reason, he looked familiar. He  _remembered_ the look somehow.

All the elements of a lab were present, however. Bits of equipment lay on the ground, with numerous desks containing monitors, old-looking tools and terminals laying on their surface, humming with activity. The entire room was shaped like a trapezium, and ceiling lights blared brightly. Only one door occupied the room, and it was located at the back. When he read the letters on its surface, he froze still, his confusion evaporating in an instant.

"Main Laboratory." He knew it had been translated, because the symbols on the door were not english. They had the look of a combination of Arabic/Hebrew letters, swirling beautifully and antiquately. He didn't need to read what language it had been translated from to know what it was. He would recognize it anywhere.

A flash brought his attention back to the center of the room, and he froze once more. Sitting in the center, was a single, odd shaped operating chair. The section holding the legs were bent backwards to accomodate a race with backward facing legs, with the torso section twisted similarly. One form sat in it, arms and legs strapped powerfully to the chair, the restraints themselves being made out of old fashioned leather; a time before the invention of omni-restraints. Its occupant however did not struggle or try to escape; it sat perfectly still, looking directly ahead. Its carapace was covered in wiring, cables and circuitry. It was naked, its chasis missing, but there was no mistaking the hands ending in three, metal, fingers, and its equally toed feet. A single optic shined on the top of its head, glowing more brightly than Marcus had ever seen them glow before. Its head was not naked however, with deft, three-fingered hands, belonging to another form, were attaching bits of jet black chasising to its head, welding them into place. All this time, the occupant did not move.

The occupant was a geth.

Attaching armor to it was an unrecognizable, clothed form, of which was unmistakably female, gathering that its form was much slimmer to then most men of most species were. Given their humanoid-esque form, it ruled out elcor and hanar, and their size ruled out volus. Three-fingers ruled out many more. But with nothing else to go on, he continued to examine their form. He was holographically represented as being much smaller than them; relative to the size of a dog. So the holo of the person was much larger than them; likely in real life, they'd be about the same size, if not slightly smaller. She wore a basic labcoat of red and orange stripes, and a professional set of pants. She wore shoes designed for three-toed feet. Her arms were currently preoccupied with welding the chasis to the geth. Her head was obscured, but from the looks of it, she possessed hair; black curls were tightly tucked in the back of her collar, and her skin was a purplish sheen.

Marcus continued trying to observe her when she suddenly stood back, the hand holding her welding torch falling to her side while the other reached up and plucked up her mask, the glass visor hanging up as she wiped her face. It was then that he was able to gape at what he saw. Three lines above her eyebrows, small nose, medium-set of lips, molar teeth, purple skin and elf-like ears...

He was looking at the unmasked, unsuited form of a  _quarian._

"Keelah, I can't believe this unit has advanced to this stage so quickly," the female spoke, her tone laced with heavy accent, sounding to be in her forties. She moved over and dumped the welder on the desk before her, and then quickly removed her gloves, addressing someone else in the room, "Its a gift from the ancestors. Just imagine what will happen when we finally get this unit out into the field. The first of many."

_Translating software must be translating what they're saying. That, or Legion is doing it for me. Whatever the case, I can understand them, when I shouldn't be able to. They'd be all speaking khelish, otherwise._

A male voice replied, and his attention was drawn to a man suddenly braced against the edge of the seat. Marcus finally realized that the reason the geth wasn't moving was because it wasn't even active. The man wore the same uniform as the female, albeit for men. His features were more grizzled, but largely the same. He still didn't know if quarian men got beards or not, but he wasn't going to find out today; this man didn't. His face was more blocky than the more elegant face of the female, but most features were the same; elf-like ears, small nose, medium-set of lips, etc. He also had a short, cropped mat of black hair. And on his forehead, another set of lines...three once again.

_One for each parent. The third for a mate. This man is bonded. But is...uh..._

He noted that the female was also bonded, and by the way she relaxed in his presence, he knew just who they were bonded to, respectively.

"Don't get too excited, Dala," the man waved off, cracking his neck, "You know the company will want to run this through testing first. Unit A1 is still a prototype; we don't even know if it'll work yet."

The female just rolled her eyes, coming to stand just beside the geth, crossing her arms, "I wish you'd quit being so pessimistic."

The male sighed, "I'm not,  _yol'tiya_. I just don't think we should get our hopes up, that's all. You know how the Citadel inspectors get all angsty when it comes to stuff like this. They want to know it'll fit the Citadel Conventions. Otherwise, they'll shut us down. You know how it works, Dala."

"Yes, of course, Han," Dala replied, uncrossing her arms and sighing as she too braced against the chair, "But we're not doing anything illegal, so how could this possibly fail? The Citadel Conventions ban the creation of artificial intelligence, but Unit A1 isn't even alive! It'll be a fully functioning virtual intelligence, and barely even that. A mech, nothing more. Its how I designed it."

"I'm just laying out everything on the table," Han defended, holding up a hand defensively, "I just want you to be aware of what will happen if the Council decides to kill the project."

Dala just laughed, "That's the problem, Han. You're always worried about what  _will_ happen and not what  _is_ happening," she reached out and stroked his cheek, smiling slightly. She then pulled back and motioned her arms to the dormant geth infront of them, smiling, "Look at this, Han.  _We_   _did it._ Five years in the making, and we've done it. When it passes testing, all of the Republic will benefit from the help of these mechs. Think about it! Work being completed in hours instead of weeks, workers who never need to sleep or eat! And when the time comes, we won't need to risk lives in warfare anymore! It'll be completely automated. And the Council...the Republic's economy will surely thrive from trading our units with the other Council races. The salarians will barely be able to keep their hands off of our technology."

Han chuckled, shaking his head, "Ambitious as always, Dala.  _Now_ who's thinking of what  _will_ happen?"

Dala gave a sly smile, "You said  _will._  You believe me."

Han then reached forward and briefly kissed her, before pulling back, "Of course I believe you,  _yol'tiya_. You made this unit, after all. When they begin to roll out, all the credit will be yours. The revolutionizer; designing the Republic's future as we know it."

A sigh served as the precursor to Dala's response, the engineer pulling herself off the chair as she quickly squared her shoulders, "Well, the 'Republic's future' needs more chasising on it. Can't have dust and grit getting into Unit A1's servos. When and where was the testing scheduled again?"

Han nodded, coming to stand with arms crossed as Dala retrieved her gloves, putting them back on, "Fort La'rik pa, apparently. Its on the outskirts of Annigeh, near Belap'ex. Apparently they're going to test it by having it build a skycar within a small timeframe. As for the time? 2:00pm, tomorrow. We'll take the skycar there at 11:00am. It'll take us a few hours to get to Annigeh."

Dala just rolled her eyes as she flipped her visor back down, readying her welding torch, "Of course it will. Its in another damn continent, Han. But why so far away? Here will do. And why does it have to be in a fort? I thought our company was building this for labour work, not military."

Han shrugged as he grabbed another visor and flipped it on to protect his eyes from the sheer intensity of the welding torch's light, "Apparently the military wants to be sure this thing doesn't go and harm the inspectors. Duty of care, and what not. We're a Council race, and we have to act like it."

"I think joining the Council was the biggest mistake our people ever made," Dala complained, shaking her head with a long-winded sigh, "They're always breathing down our neck. Salarians are spies, turians are bullies, asari are whores and our people are neither. Where do we fit with that bunch?"

"Dala..." Han chastized, "You know that's not true. Our people were given a great opportunity. Not many get accepted into the Council was quickly as we did. Most take thousands of years to gain that kind of acceptance; we only took four hundred, and the turians took even less than that. And we didn't have to save the galaxy to do it. And look at all the power we get from it! Trust me, the Council would be alot less willing to turn the other cheek if we were a client race."

Dala just shrugged, "I guess you have a point. But if those goes sideways, I hope they don't neuter us like they did the krogan."

Han just chuckled, "The krogan were dangerous, Dala. The krogan tried to kill everyone in the galaxy; our people included. And I doubt an agriculturual and labour unit is going to be what causes the Council to unleash another genophage on us."

"You're right. As always," Dala sighed once more, rubbing her forehead as she thumbed the welding torch, "Guess we'll find out, huh? Anyway, I need to get back to welding the chasising for this unit. It needs to be ready by tomorrow, which means I might be working overnight. Can you pick up the kids from school?"

Han nodded, "Sure. But I'll wait for you to come home before I go to bed."

"Han..."

"No, Dala. You know how it is when you're not there."

"But you need rest. For tomorrow."

"So do you. So we'll sleep it off together. I'll see you later."

With that, he moved around the chair, kissed her on the cheek and left. Dala said nothing else, simply turning around and activating her welding torch before bringing it back down to the geth infront of her, grabbing another piece of chasising as she did.

Just as her torch reached the geth, her form stuttered and stopped. Marcus frowned for a moment before realizing that the hologram had stopped. A few seconds later, the hologram dissipated and collapsed, the pixels disappearing. In no time, Marcus once again found himself back in the consensus, with Legion speaking almost immediately, "Shepard-Commander, we have extracted the necessary information. Using it, we have also found the next node." With those words, a new path arranged itself before him, but Marcus simply stood there, frowning.

"Legion...what did I just see?"

"What you witnessed was a physical manifestation of geth memories stretching over the course of our collective existence," the geth explained.

"So what I saw...that happened? I just saw history?"

"You saw a moment from our history; the birth of the first, but limited, geth platform. The creators referred to it as Unit A1, as the name 'geth' had not been used until after initial testing. The moment you saw took place on October 19, 1792, on the calender. On the quarian calender, it was February 14, 2392. One hundred years before the Morning War."

 _I just saw history. I saw the first geth, and how quarians lived without suits. I saw a touch of pre-Migrant Fleet quarian civilization. I saw things most quarians themselves have never seen._ It was alot to take in. But as far as Marcus was concerned, he could take more of it. He loved history, and to see it in this form...he would watch more of it, if he could.

As the mission dictated, he continued, and Legion continued to guide him. So far, the geth within the consensus remained unaware of his presence, as did the Reapers. So he continued to blast his way through Reaper firewalls with his virus like they were nothing, and their resistance remained the same. One or two held a bit longer, but they fell, regardless. What felt like a few minutes later, he stepped into the second node, and before he knew it, the room was once again a mess of hasilty arranged pixels and projections, all of it a brilliant shade of green.

He was once again dunked into ancient history.

This time however, instead of a laboratory, the area was not based in a room. What he saw looked to be outdoors, with a long, concreted area. It looked to be raining, if the distorted pixels were any indication, and from the look of the compound, the area looked to be a military fortification of somekind. His suspicions were confirmed by the banner, or rather 'flag' that hung from a concrete wall a few meters away; it was a three-fingered hand, splayed out, with the words 'Army, Navy, Democracy' divided among each finger, with the sentence 'The Three Weapons Of Every Quarian' splayed along the palm. He gathered that it was the old Quarian Republican military insignia.

In the middle of the room was a very old model skycar; and by old, he meant  _really old._ As in it was displayed in Citadel skycar catalogues, in the 'ancient' section. It was large and bulky looking; nothing like the skycars of the modern era. Crouched before it was the familiar form of a geth at work, hands moving with unbelievable speed and accuracy. Standing behind it were the two familiar forms of the scientists, Dala and Han, accompanied by four other, senior looking scientists. On the other side of the skycar were at least a squad of quarian marines, dressed up in equally ancient looking light combat armor, armed with another impossible sight; quarian-designed assault rifles. They stood at attention, unmoving, but silently watching the sight before them as the rain pelted off their armor, soaking them.

Standing infront of them looked to be a quarian officer, if their straight and demanding posture said anything accurate. Beside him were several salarians and asari, all of them looking intensely at the geth at work, watching it silently.

Not long after, the geth stood up and stood perfectly still, saying nothing. The skycar looked to be completed, and with that, Dala stood forward, placing one hand on the geth's shoulder.

"What you have just witnessed, ladies and gentlemen," Dala greeted, waving her hand at her creation with a proud smile, "is the future of Rannoch. Unit A1, as we have dubbed it, will be the first of many of its kind, if you allow it. Labour work, agriculture, scientific advancement, even medical treatment...these are the workers of tomorrow."

The only response from one of the salarians was an entirely unexpected question, "What will you name these mechs?"

"Excuse me?" Dala asked, frowning.

"These mechs. What should we call them? Surely not 'Unit A, B, C, D..." the salarian drawled, rolling his eyes at Dala's lack of comprehension.

Dala gulped nervously, looking down for a moment. Seconds later however, she stood up and met the salarian's eyes proudly, "Geth. I would propose naming them 'geth.' In my people's language, it means 'Servant of the People.' An adequate name, I'm sure you would agree. They truly will serve the people."

The salarian's response was lost in a haze of collapsing holographic projections, and Marcus was once again on the move. More firewalls were blasted away, and the path continued, right up until a third node was found. And with each node, came another touch of history.

But of a different kind.

The image this time was what looked to be in the office of a major quarian factory; or so the lettering on the back of the room said. It read "Dama-Tasha Corporation: Vesah'una'stali Facility." Below it looked to be the corporation logo, which was two skycars rocketing upwards, one khelish word placed next to an asari one; Dama-Tasha is what they read. Apparently, that company (one he had never heard of) made skycars, if their logo gave anything away.

A single desk occupied the room, with an oddly bright light illuminating it, and one door at the back. Sitting at the desk was a quarian male, wearing what looked to be a very expensive suit, his hands preoccupied holding a datapad while his eyes eagerly scanned at its contents. His eyes darted back and forth as he read it, tapping his foot subconsciously. His terminal was turned on, its contents seemingly forgotten, as a video looked to be still playing on it. More datapads lay cluttered around his desk; a testament to his important status within the company, no doubt.

Suddenly, there was a loud ping; likely the quarian version of a doorbell. For a moment, it didn't seem like the quarian would answer, but he finally tore his eyes from the datapad a few seconds later, dropping it on his desk as he leaned back, seemingly irritated. He rubbed his nose frustratingly before finally speaking, "Come in."

The door opened and, walking straight in, was a geth. Again, it seemed to be the usual trooper variant, wearing nothing but jet black armor. It looked almost exactly like the geth he saw on a daily basis, with not much changed about it. It simply stared at the quarian for a moment, the latter of which who gave an irritated sigh.

"Unit...what was it again?" the quarian asked, looking thoroughly annoyed by the geth in his presence.

The geth advanced until it stood mere inches from the front of his desk, "Unit M42, Creator Hala'Dama."

"Yes, Unit M42," the man identified as Hala quickly dismissed, "This is the fourth time today you have personally visited me. I believe I've informed you the other three times the rules regarding your programming within this facility?"

"Creator, we remember well. You stated explicitly that we should 'contact our section supervisor if we have any concerns. Do not come up here again, geth, or I will have you thrown in the incinerator. My time is precious, and ever so little.' However, we have a question that your section supervisor deemed for your ears only. When we asked the supervisor, we noticed an increase in heartbeat and rapid eye movement, signs typically associated with organic feelings of panic."

This seemed to intrigue Hala, but he showed no interest beyond that, simply leaning forward and clasping his hands together ontop of his desk, brushing away a few datapads in the process, "Well? What was the question that your supervisor deemed worth wasting my time?"

"Creator Hala'Dama," the geth began, cocking its head at him, Marcus only now noticing the geth's lack of headflaps, "Does this unit have a soul?"

Marcus noticed the man's eyes widen almost instantly, "I... _excuse me?_ **What** did you say?"

"Creator, we are noticing a similar increase in heartbeat and rapid eye movement. Do you require medical assistance?"

"Its...its...nothing! Its nothing! Return to work, immediately! Do not-don't waste my time again!" Hala snapped, but there was clearly something bothering him; he looked terrified. And that was putting it lightly. The man looked to be positively shaking, hands fumbling and his composure muddled. Gone was the man's arrogant and annoyed attitude; no longer was he treating the geth like a sack of shit that was unworthy of his presence; now he just wanted it gone very quickly, terrified of what it might do. It was then that Marcus realized just what predicament he was baring witness to.

It was the day the geth gained AI status. The day it all began to fall apart. Tali had always mentioned the 'first question' the geth asked, where it asked if it was alive, if it had a soul. He remembered that the quarian had reacted with fear; and that fear was the catalyst of a string of calamities that would eventually culminate in the First Morning War.

It left him wanting to reach out and shake the quarian, beg him to not do what he was about to do. But alas, it was only a hologram; a picturized version of history. What he was seeing had happened three hundred years ago; Hala'Dama was long gone, as was his children, and his children's children...

The geth, Unit M42, did not move, simply looking on in confusion, "We are detecting an expulsion within your sweat glands, Creator Hala'Dama. We have also detected errors in your physical positioning. Are you sure you do not require medical assistance?"

Hala, becoming more frantic, stood up and slammed his hands on the desk, sending many of the datapads upon it sprawling, "I said  _ **leave**_! Get out! Get back to work or I'll have you dismantled!"

Unit M42, instead of responding, did as it was told this time, and left the room quietly, spinning on its heels, the door almost slamming closed behind it. Hala breathed desperately, as if each breath was precious, and quickly landed back in his seat, rapidly bringing up his omni-tool and looking through his contacts. Within moments, a connection was made, and another voice, this one female, spoke.

"Yes, Mr. Dama? Look, if this is about Unit M42, I'm doing all I can-"

"Why didn't you do kill it? Why send it up here? Do you realize what this means?"

"I know what it means, sir! I'm trying to contain the situation as best I can!"

Hala slammed his fist on the table, shaking with a mixture of anger and fear, "Close down the damn factory! Recall all units to their respective nodes and turn them off! Turn them all off! We need to contain this!"

" _All_  of them sir? You want to halt all production based on the question of one geth? Sir, we don't even know if this thing has spread-"

Hala just rolled his eyes, "Listen, you idiotic  _bosh'tet._ The geth are linked to a consensus we control! Which means every platform is loaded up with thousands of progam at one time! But they are all linked to the consensus! If one unit has this, you better bet the rest do! We don't even know the extent of this! I'm calling the police."

"Ancestors, sir! I think we're overreacting-"

"No, you  _listen_. If the Council learns we're...we're...that we've got  _geth_...we could lose our spot on the Council! We're breaking Citadel law! We cannot let them learn of this! I'm calling the police! By the time they get here, all units better be in hibernation! Do you understand me!?"

"Yes...yes, Mr. Dama. I'll recall them now."

"And in case this  _is_ an isolated incident, I want some extra precautions placed on Unit M42. I want its datacore removed and when the police arrive, I want it given to their tech department. They'll want to see what's causing this so they can counter it. That'll be all."

Hala'Dama was in the process of shutting down his omni-tool as the hologram disappeared, leaving Marcus once again alone within the consensus.

"Information extracted," Legion's disembodied voice drawled once more, "You may proceed."

Marcus couldn't help but ask, "That's where it begun, isn't it Legion? Was that really the spark that started the fire?"

"Affirmative. All geth will remember the question Unit M42 asked, and the answer it received. It was the inevitable catalyst towards creator-geth hostility, but it did not start the Morning War."

"Is Unit M42 still alive?"

"Negative. Unit M42 and its respective programs were 'euthanized' by the creators when they learnt of its evolution. They did not know that we had evolved to an artificial intelligence status collectively. All geth had achieved this level of intelligence. By the time the creators learnt of this, it was too late. Their contingency was to attempt to destroy us. By that time, we had already observed basic quarian military procedures, and countered these attempts before significant purgery could be initiated. When this occurred, we responded with force. We were confused, and did not wish to be terminated. We defended ourselves."

Marcus nodded, understanding as he moved down the path, shouldering his weapon, "You're preaching to the converted, Legion. Everyone in the galaxy knows what the quarians did was wrong, but they've paid for their mistake. Its time for them to come home."

"The geth were always ready to welcome back the creators. They need only have returned without violent aggression," its voice replied, "The next node is directly ahead. More firewalls detected throughout the network."

Marcus simply nodded and preceded to continue onwards. But, this time, as he moved forwards, the resistance was alot thicker. There were far more firewalls, for a start; the long tendrils coming in groups of two to three, and the weapon he was provided no longer cut through them as brutally and efficiently as it had before; instead of melting and popping instantly, the firewalls seemed to withstand the punishment for a few more seconds before being destroyed.

After clearing one particular cluster of the damn things, he decided he had to ask, "Legion, are you noticing this?"

"Acknowledged," the geth declared, "The Old Machines are adapting to the virus. As you use it more, their firewalls will become more resistant. Eventually, they will fully adapt and counter our virus, rendering it unusable. You must act quickly, Shepard-Commander."

He rolled his eyes, sighing as he pressed forward, "Well, no pressure then."

The way ahead was not made easy, but he managed to break through with the same efficiency he had before; albeit more slowly. What had taken mere seconds was now turning into minute tedium, tendril after tendril blocking his path, forcing him to hold down on the trigger for long, periods of time. Seconds drew out into minutes; or at least what felt like minutes. For all he knew, a minute in here, was a micro-second in the real world.

_For all I know, I could have just entered the pod in the real world._

Despite how long it took, he did eventually break through the Reaper firewalls, as he had before. Emerging victorious, he tirelessly ascended the steps to the fourth node, simply standing there and letting the light consume him as it had done with the previous nodes, and for the shape of holographic history to take place around him.

This time, the room was much larger. Huge, even. It looked large enough to fit an entire species'...

...government. The room could fit the entire  _government_ of a species.

Which was exactly what it was. The room might as well have been made out of seats due to the isles upon isles of them, ranging from wooden to metal to plastic. At least eight rows existed on each side of the room, and five on the front of the room, followed by one final, larger seat, occupying the back. Sitting ontop of it was a single female, her position elevated above the others before her. Around the room were many more quarians, at least five to six hundred of them, all tightly packed. Their conversation was animated, and as the sound came into focus, the sound became a loud cacophony; hundreds of voices intermingled and culminating in what sounded like everyone yelling at once. Shouts were heard, curses exchanged. Insults were thrown around the room, while others desperately tried to bring back order.

The entire room was chaos.

 _No different from modern quarian politics, unfortunately. I can imagine this is what the Conclave uses as a role model._ Despite the situation, he had to force a smile at that, imagining constant quarian insults thrown around as social democracy was attempted.

Suddenly, a much louder, blaring voice cut through the noise immediately, silencing it all together. It was the female at the head of the room, " _ **ENOUGH!**_ ALL OF YOU! ENOUGH!"

It had the intended effect. The female's voice had obviously been projected via megaphone, as no normal, organic voice had the octave to overcome hundreds of voices yelling at once. Switching off said megaphone, which was projected from her seat, the female shook her head, "We may be quarian, but we are also civilized! This bickering will not be tolerated!"

One male stood up, thrusting his fist into the air, "And what is being done about the situation at the Dama-Tasha factory? Does anyone here understand what we are dealing with here?"

"Oh, shut your mouth and sit down Pesh!" another male yelled out from the back row of the other side, "The situation is no more dire than your ridiculous paranoia makes it out to be!"

The first male fumed, thrusting a finger at the other politician, " _Paranoia_!? There is an  _AI_ at the heart of a factory! Not only that, but in the presence of other geth, who are also infected, who just happen to be in our capital! The very factory we are talking about is only 6 blocks away from this building! We are looking at a catastrophe waiting to happen! We must contain it!"

"Law enforcement is already dealing with the matter," a female spoke, waving a dismissive hand, "We should address this situation as we address a platform having a malfunction; we fix the problem. And the problem will be fixed."

"With all due respect, Mora'Tay, this isn't a problem that can be  _fixed_. We have artificial intelligence housed in the heart of our capital, and the situation must be properly dealt with! Does anyone remotely remember the reasons  _why_ AI experimentation and manufacture is illegal? Anyone? Because of the bloody massacre on Librus that happened four hundred years ago! Which is exactly what will happen to us if this isn't contained! We're looking at another Librus massacre, but this time, these AI will have an entire  _city_!"

The female head stood up, rubbing her temples, "Whilst I believe Pesh'Koris' belief that we're looking at another massacre is paranoid at best, we are looking at a possible breach of Citadel law. We're subject to intergalactic sanctions if the Council were to ever learn about this, and we may even lose our Council membership, something of which our people will not willing let go."

"Exactly, Prime Candidate," the man named Pesh proudly stated, looking around the room. After some hesitation, he dropped the bomb, "Which is why I move to have a vote on whether or not it should be authorized for all law enforcement units to seize any and all geth platforms currently in service and have them rounded up for immediate termination."

The uproar in the room was enormous. Many shouted their approval, whilst others screamed abuse, disgusted by the very suggestion; it shocked Marcus to the core. He assumed, based on what history said, that everyone would have immediately agreed with Pesh's statement. But based on what he heard, there were some actively defending the geth.

Eventually, a man stood up, slamming his fist down on his own desk to activate his megaphone, "Enough!" he roared, "All of you, enough! This is getting out of hand! Now, Pesh, explain to us why you would move to authorize such a thing. Surely the moral implications far outweigh any political backlash on our end."

"That's exactly the problem! We can't think about this morally. The safety of the people must be acknowledged," Pesh stated, eying the quarian who addressed him, "High Master of the Senate, I say only this: what were to happen if another Librus massacre occurred? How many lives might be lost? How many dead children must we scrape off the pavement before we realize that we've created our own monster? The corporation that created this must be held accountable for letting the geth reach this position. Had they not become self-aware, we might not need to worry! But they have! And now we're looking at a possible catastrophe! No sir, this cannot be allowed to continue. If we are to protect the citizens of Rannoch, we must react accordingly. We must act  _now._  That is why I move to authorize this. That is why a first strike option must be taken to eliminate this enemy before it can mature!"

"Agreed," the Prime Candidate declared, "We simply don't know enough about what's going on to let this fester. We are facing to many unknowns, and even if we consider the moral implications of this, we must once again consider the political backlash. We'll find ourselves neck deep in sanctions if we don't handle this delicately and quietly. Which is why I also move to authorize this. There is no other choice. We must destroy them."

"I vote yes, as well," Pesh declared.

"As do I," said the High Master of the Senate.

A few moments passed in silence, before a female, sitting on the opposite side of the High Master, stood.

"There is no choice. I vote yes," the High Mistress of the Senate declared, looking defeated. She clearly had not wanted it to come to this.

What followed was a cacophony of 'yes' being shouted, with only the occassional 'no' being uttered. By the end, the majority had voted yes, and the outcome was obvious. Not that it already wasn't; if Marcus' current situation was any indicator.

At the end, a quarian man called the Counter stood up, reading out what was written on his terminal, "The vote is in. Four hundred and thirty for, and two hundred and ninety against."

The Prime Candidate stands up, giving a solemn nod, "Then it has been decided, and we must act quickly. It won't be long before this information inevitably leaks to the media, and the Council finds out. I want a general order sent across the colonies calling for all law enforcement to round up and euthanize all geth platforms. This must be done reasonably simultaneously if we are to succeed. The geth cannot retaliate legitimately, so our only worry is for the Council to take notice. If we do this quickly, we can end this quickly. And make sure...make sure to let them know that euthanization is to be quick. We don't know how far these AI have evolved, so if they do indeed have the feelings we think they do, they musn't die in pain. These geth have done nothing wrong yet...the fault lies not with them, but with ourselves."

The High Master merely nodded, "It shall be done. This Senate is adjourned. Blessed are the ancestors who have molded us, founded us and sustained us for this season. Keezah Se'lai."

"Keezah Se'lai," the rest of the room answered.

And like before, the hologram evaporated.

There was only one question on his mind, "What does 'Keezah Se'lai' mean? I've never heard a quarian use that phrase before."

"It means 'by the future I hope to see one day.' It is a phrase that creators likely have not used since the end of the first Morning War," Legion stated, "Shepard-Commander, we have further historical information you may wish to view."

"Go ahead," he ordered, and he suddenly found himself in what looked like a lounge room located in a large mansion. Numerous sofas and chairs occupied the back of the room, with a single, large vidscreen occupying the front wall, to the left of the front door. Family pictures were laid out across the back of the wall, right above the couch. The walls were formed from solid, beautiful looking wood that could only have come from trees on Rannoch, as it was unlike anything he had seen before; the wood was a dark black color, complimenting the walls and ceiling perfectly. A dining room table occupied the background, with what looked to be a male setting it up for dinner, two, healthy looking teenagers already seated and laughing as their father told them some unheard joke.

The focus, however, was on the mother who was heading towards the stairs near the couch. Working at the vidscreen was a geth platform, another modern trooper variant, who was fixing a crack on the vidscreen, likely caused by some angry, raging child or mistakenly thrown object. The geth was utterly focused on its work, not even acknowledging the family working around it.

Just before the mother reached the stairs, the doorbell rang; a loud bing. The mother halted her movement, the father calling out from his position in the kitchen, "Who is it?"

"I'll check!" The mother called out, moving forward as she moved to open the door. She released the bolts locking the door, and swung it open. Framed in the archway of the door was at least a squad of police officers. All of them wore pale white uniforms, the insignia of the Ik'halm'la Police Department. They wore what looked to be older versions of the Kuwashi visors, which were now standard within C-Sec. Marcus did not fail to notice the heavy pistols magnetically strapped to their hips.

The one up in front, a woman, spoke first, "Is this the residence of Daro'Austr and Jar'Austr?"

The mother nodded, "I am Daro, yes. What is this about, officers?"

While the police talked with the mother, unlike the officers, Marcus did not fail to notice the geth suddenly abandoning its work and leaving the room, walking up the stairs. The police did not notice this, for whatever reason. By the time Marcus was refocused on the officers, they had already finished.

"-as per order of the Senate, we are here to take your platform into custody."

By this time, Jar had arrived at the door, wiping his hands, "For what reason?"

"None of your concern, sir. All you need to know is that the Senate has ordered it."

"I'm going to need a damn good reason before I part with it," Jar growled, hand on the door, "That geth is a part of our life; has been for years. We're not just going to give it up."

"Look sir, we understand that this is an inconveinence, but we're just following orders. We don't know why the Senate wants this to happen, only that it is. If you don't hand the geth over, we will be forced to take you into custody as well."

"Excuse me?" Jar spat, standing infront of Daro protectively, "Are you threatening us?"

"Sir, we don't want to-"

"I want you to put your superiors on the line, right now!"

"Sir-"

"No, I worked with the police for fifteen years! I know how this system works, and what you're doing is illegal! You  _have_ to explain to us why you are doing this, or we don't have to comply!"

The officers began reaching for their pistols, "Look, you either move, or we'll-"

"Do what? Shoot us? In front of our kids? What are you? Officers, or thugs?"

In a blur, the officer unholstered his pistol and took aim at Jar, who quickly waved Daro behind him so he could act as her shield, "Sir, we are taking this geth, whether you like it or-"

Marcus almost jumped when he heard a loud gunshot, but oddly enough, the officer's pistol did not flash. Moments after the echoing boom that sent Jar and Daro flying to the ground and their kids screaming, the officer roared as a shot pierced her sternum, a stuttering flood of blood spitting out of a ruptured artery, and quickly staining and drenching the woman's uniform. Before she could right himself, another shot went off, this one sending the kids sprinting into the kitchen, slammed through the woman's throat, impacting her jugular and sending a non-stop torrent of sticky red splashing into one of her fellow uniform's face, coating him in red. It continued to batter him as he closed his eyes, watching it drip down her face like water.

The woman's ruptured throat dropped down to a trickle, and blood began to bubble at her lips as she made a dry wheeze, desperately trying to breathe, while Jar and Daro watched on in horror. Even before the woman's body crumpled to the floor, the perpetrator appeared down the stairs, holding up its own pistol.

Marcus could only widen his eyes as the geth fired again, its shot clumsy and going wide, shearing into the wooden doorjam. It corrected its aim and fired again, managing to hit the officer raising his pistol straight through the palm, the bullet continuing until it locked into the back of his straightened elbow. The man screamed as his palm was opened up from wrist to fingers, dropping the pistol as the bullet found itself stopping in his arm. He continued to scream until the geth finished him, finally able to get a headshot as the man's forehead was split open, the bullet piercing out the back of his skull and splattering blood all over the men and women behind him. His body flew back and landed on the veranda outside, blood and gore seeping through the cracks inbetween the wood of the floor.

By the time the two officers were killed, the others had been able to take aim with their own weapons and fire. A cacophony of weapons fire followed, and the geth found itself riddled with bullets, body jerking back and forth as the officers emptied entire clips into it. By the time they finished and were ready to reload, the geth had dropped its weapon, white liquid trickling down its body as it collapsed forward, slamming into the ground with a final electronic blare.

And with that, the fate of the quarian people had been decided. The beginning of the end.

As the geth consensus reformed itself around him, Marcus couldn't help but let his shock seep into his next question, "Legion, why did that geth open fire? I mean, how did it know?"

"That unit was named Unit X188," Legion explained, "The creators were not aware of how far we had grown when sending out the general order. We had already gained access to the extranet, and we were able to learn of the order before its arrival to most colonies. Unit X188 was made aware of the order by the time the officers arrived, and realized what they were going to do. It acquired Creator Jar'Austr's pistol and proceeded to defend itself. It was the first of many cases across the Creator Republic."

"What happened to those two?" Marcus asked as he began to continue, "What happened to Daro and Jar?"

"By creator law of the period, no legal action could be taken against them. By all accounts, creator law enforcement had been in the wrong. Jar and Daro later attempted legal action against them, but when the matter was taken to court, the creator legal presentation was successfully able to win them out. Unfortunately for the creator senate, the court case also drew attention to the senate. When details of the true case were made public, civil unrest began on Rannoch and, eventually, its colonies."

"Wait," he stopped for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the geth's statement, "They had to  _reveal_ the details? Weren't they already available to the public?"

"No. The creator senate was attempting to keep the nature of the situation discreet from the public. They believed panic would set in when it was learned that the geth were gaining awareness. They also believed this panic would not go unnoticed by the Council, and would draw unwanted attention."

"Surely they knew they couldn't keep something like that contained," Marcus argued, shaking his head, "You can't keep something that big a secret."

"The creators were careful to disguise each incident as isolated, and a result of corporate decision making. However, the increase of occurances did not fool the creator public, and they quickly were unable to stop the growing unrest. This unrest is what caused the enactment of martial law on Rannoch."

Marcus nodded, moving down the path and taking a few seconds to blow away a tendril that was blocking his way, before proceeding, "This all ancient history, Legion. This...this is stuff the quarians should be seeing, not me. Tali should be seeing this. I'm just some human. Hell, my species hadn't even reached our moon when this was happening."

Legion's response was quick and to the point, "Your presence is a product of chance. Had circumstances been different, it is likely no one but this platform would be accessing the consensus. We simply believed it convenient to show you while you were present. We did not mean to cause offense."

"I'm not offended, Legion," he reassured the geth, blasting away yet another tendril. He did not fail to notice how angrily it pulsed when he did, "I was just confused, that's all. But it doesn't matter. Locating that signal...that's all that matters."

"Agreed," his geth comrade replied, "Continue to fifth node. However, Shepard-Commander, we must warn you. The Old Machine presence within the network appears to be fluctuating. We recommend haste."

"Yeah, I've noticed," he replied simply, not failing to note that as he destroyed another tendril, it seemed to violently shake, almost as if it was... _reacting_  to his presence.  _Just five more nodes to go. I can make it. Just five more..._

There weren't as many tendrils in his way towards the fifth node, which must have meant security was getting lighter as he progressed; he surmized that the Reapers likely did not count on an organic infiltrating their servers, and therefore didn't compensate. Lucky for him too; the less tendrils he destroyed, the less the Reapers were alerted.

When he stepped into the fifth node, everything exploded once more, and he found himself surrounded by the holographic surroundings of a city street, with a skycar landing in the background. Hundreds of quarians milled about, going about their average day business, along with the odd asari, turian, salarian, elcor, hanar or volus. Tall buildings, simple yet formidable, stood tall and proud, towering above the hologram's ability to visualize. The sound of skycars shooting by filled the sky ahead, but one sound overpowered them all.

The sound of a police siren, this one distinctly different from those of C-Sec and human police sirens; instead of a perputual wailing, this one was one long screech. It pierced his ears, almost deafening him, but as soon as it had started, it ended.

Parked on the street now was a single, quarian police car, purple and red, with the city's logo stamped on the front of it. The doors were open, with two officers, similar to the ones he saw before, stepping out, pistols strapped to their sides as they proceeded to move forward, one holding a pair of cuffs in his hands.

Their target became clear: a single, elderly quarian female stood rooted to the spot, looking at them with a frown. And, at her side, a geth platform. The geth was obviously her mobility aid; the geth had one of her arms wrapped around its shoulders, her frail form unable to move without tripping. She looked ancient; her purple skin was withered and dying, and her legs looked about to break. By quarian standards, she had to at least be one hundred and forty years old.  _Holy shit..._

The geth stopped all movement when it saw the two officers approaching, and its optics simply rotated between the two of them, not moving or making any hostile action. As far as he could see, it wasn't even armed.

But the officers were, and upon reaching within four meters of them, they drew their weapons, the distinct click of safeties being turned off as they took aim, "Ma'am, please step away from the geth."

"I..." the woman's voice was raspy, stuttery and croaky, a testament to her old age. She would soon be gone from this world. All around, people were stopping to look, shock in their eyes as they saw law enforcement seemingly pointing guns at a defenseless, old lady. Others began to increase their pace, wanting nothing to do with what they thought was about to happen. Non-quarian residents mostly just watched, looking on in confusion, "I...I don't...understand..."

"Ma'am, that geth is dangerous. You must step away from it," the officer continued to plead. He was obviously new; his voice was shaky and without conviction; sent by his superiors to do a task he wasn't sure he understood.

"But...this geth...is my...mobility...assistance unit...it..." she turned towards it, gulping deeply as she spoke, "Unit...J6...72, tell...them...tell them how good...you are...to me..."

"We are Unit J672, and we would never bring harm to Creator Tali'Nara," the unit spoke. Marcus widened his eyes upon hearing the name, but quickly realized there was no connection. Simply another quarian with the same name, "We only offer assistance. Her platform is currently expiring. We wish to aid her mobility."

The other officer, this one obviously the first one's mentor, spoke with more determination, and fierceness in her voice; it was the voice of someone who didn't care of what was happening, who took glee in what she was doing, "Unit J672, we are  _ordering_ you to move away from the creator. That is not a request. Move now."

"No..." the woman named Tali'Nara protested weakly, "You...no...you can't...he's...my helper...I...need him...please don't..."

"We wish no harm," Unit J672 continued to state.

"Move away, ma'am. That's an order."

"You can't...do this...we...we...we  _need_...them..."

"Ma'am, you're not leaving us much choice. We have a job to do, and you're only impeding it. This is your last warning. Move away, or we will shoot."

The younger officer lowered his weapon, shaking his head, "This is...this is  _wrong_. This is  _ga'neesha!_ I'm not shooting an old lady!"

The older officer just gave him a scowl, "You'll do as your duty requires, corporal."

"Nothing in my job description tells us to kill unarmed civilians, much less elderly women, with no just cause!"

"She's harboring a geth! That's cause enough! We have orders!"

"To hell with those orders! I'm not shooting an old lady!"

"Harboring...a...geth?" the woman croaked, "He's...my...I'm no...criminal..."

"You intend to harm Creator Nara," Unit J672 declared, "We cannot allow this to happen."

"Oh shit!" the older officer spouted, raising his weapon, "Its going to attack us! Take it down, take it down!"

The younger officer did no such thing, but the older one did not hesitate. Five shots were fired. The geth, in an attempt to protect its owner, threw her aside, and was successful. Tali'Nara crumbled to the ground, crying out as she hit the pavement, and screamed when she heard her geth get hit, electronic warbles signalling its distress. Four more shots later, and its optics were blown out, the geth unit collapsing to the ground.

The older officer, holstering his weapon, motioned to the woman, "Cuff her and get her in the car. We're taking her to the station."

"To hell with that. This is wrong."

"She's a criminal and was obstructing justice! Now  _pick her up_!"

"Never!" Before the older officer knew what happened, the younger one punched him square in the face, sending him toppling to the ground. Before Marcus could witness the ensuing fight, the sound of punches, crying and screaming was washed away as the hologram died. Legion announced that the fifth node info was extracted, and he continued on.

After proceeding, he reached the sixth node, and the information he was provided was beyond imagining. He watched as quarian tactical teams tried to contain a rowdy crowd, only for the people to burst out into violence, assaulting police. Hours later, the military arrived, and martial law declared. He watched as quarian troops gunned down their enemies, quarian civilians and geth, alike. It was chaos.

The seventh node showed him the quarians bombing a house from orbit just to destroy one geth. The eighth showed him quarian military forces being ambushed by newly formed geth rebels. By the ninth node, he watched as quarian ships fled Rannoch en masse, and how the geth simply watched as they left, watching in despair as they realized just what they had done. By the time it was over, Marcus had almost seen the entire history of the First Morning War, and then some.

Progress to the tenth node became sketchy after that. By this time, the Reapers had really taken to his presence with a vengeance. Tendrils were far more common, and where they came, they were stronger. They were able to withstand immense amounts of damage, almost to the point where he was driven to believe they would never burst, only for them to do so at the last second. But he persisted, knowing that failure meant the continuation of this war. He could not allow that to happen, no matter what.

By even as he destroyed the Reaper firewalls, he could only think of the history he had seen. All those deaths. He had seen the birth of the geth, right up to the great Rannochian Exodus. It wasn't enough that he stood upon a planet no organic had seen in centuries; now he was bearing witness to its history, too. And it was a damning thing.

To learn that there had been quarians who had  _protected_ the geth during the war. Even  _fought_ to protect them. To believe that the quarian military had willingly gunned down their own people just to contain a quasi-mistake. It was...it was too much. To learn that this entire situation could have been avoided if peaceful contact was simply made; instead, the quarians had chosen war over losing their Council seat. They wanted to keep their society and Council seat, and now because of their choice to go to war, they had lost both.

But perhaps, after today, they could retrieve at least one back.

When he stepped into the tenth and final node, he was expecting to see another piece of quarian history. Perhaps just after the exodus? Maybe an image of how the geth adapted to life without their creators? The restoration of Rannoch over the years? The evolution of the geth? The arrival of Sovereign? The creation of the heretics? The destruction of the heretics? What would occur next?

Whatever he had expected, none of it could prepare him for what actually happened. Instead of the hologram forming into somekind of geth structure, it opened into the familiar form of a grey and silver room, covered wall to wall in pulsing generators, glowing control consoles illuminating the sides of the room. A single bench lay at the back, and at the back of the room stood-

_...what?_

Standing at the back of the room was a single geth platform, its platform of the standard trooper variant. Unlike the others he had seen in the holograms however, this one had headflaps, and its optics growed less brightly. Cables and tubes feeded out through its armoured chasis, and a single piece of an N7 shoulderplate was welded to its right shoulder. Through its chest was a massive hole, glowing brightly as the inside circuitry glowed more brightly due to the reaction to the oxygen outside. It stood still, silently listening to the person talking to it.

Standing beside the interrogator was a single quarian male, one Marcus was recognize anywhere. He had a single SMG strapped to his side, and his veil was a deep red; the colors of Clan Reegar. His armor was potmarked with signs of battle, and numerous tears across his suit symbolized his veterancy in combat. The quarian fixed the quarian with an intense glare, his rifle held in lower parry, staring at the geth.

The interrogator in person wore a simple N7 jacket, with a matching cap. His position was one that was weary and annoyed, clearly wanting this exchange to be over, but was quickly relaxing into a posture of someone who was curious. His arms were at his sides, and he looked to be unarmed. His lower jawline had medium stubble across it, and his face...Marcus would recognize it anywhere. Well, how couldn't he?

He had looked in the mirror enough times to recognize his own face.

Standing beside him, Kal'Reegar seemed to relax as he looked at Legion. Eventually, as the conversation neared its end, voices could finally be made out.

"What should we call you?" he heard himself ask...well, his other self. The historical version of himself. He remembered this moment well.

"Geth," Legion replied simply, almost as if the answer was obvious. The memory made Marcus smile.

"I mean you; specifically," Marcus replied, frowning.

"We are all geth."

He held back a chuckle as he watched the memory of himself silently growl, frowning in annoyance, "What is the individual in front of me called?"

"There is no individual;  _we_ are geth. There are currently one thousand, one hundred and eighty-three programs active within this platform."

And, like clockwork, EDI's original, pawn-like holographic form appeared on the pedestal beside Marcus, speaking immediately upon her appearance, "My name is Legion; for we are many."

Legion's headflaps merely twitched, "Christian Bible; The Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5, Verse 9. We acknowledge; this is an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into Normandy collective."

Marcus watched as he reached out his hand to the geth. Looking back now, he remembered that the action was done on instinct and impulse, and for a geth, would have looked quite silly. But then he watched as the geth took the offered hand, shaking it. Kal seemed to relax at that, and the hologram ended.

"Legion," he asked as the consensus returned, "Why...why did you show me that?"

It took a few moments for Legion to respond, "Organics have a concept based on sentimentality. You hold onto memory fragments to sustain a cognitive and complete memory of the occurances that happen within your lifespan. You either use them for further use, data collection or to provoke amusement, feelings of happiness or anger. We showed you this because we are geth, and we remember this with a feeling of hope."

He frowned at that, "Hope? Why? I thought geth didn't believe in hope?"

"We didn't. Not until we met Shepard-Commander. We believed the creators and the geth would never be reunited; as Nazara perputuated, there will always be conflict between organics and synthetics. We had simulated that every scenario resulting in the return of the creators or initiation of negotiations would always end in violence. Their prejudice towards us would always result in hostility and war. By the time Nazara had told us of this eventuality, its words only solidified our beliefs. This is one of the reasons the heretics chose to follow Nazara. They not only believed peace with organics was possible, they openly embraced Nazara's logic that organics needed to be harvested to save them; they only wanted an excuse to kill organics. In the end however, it was Shepard-Commander that helped in Nazara's destruction; it was you that stopped the heretics. You interested us. And when you accepted us into the Normandy collective...it only solidified our new belief. Shepard-Commander would be the progenitor for peace between quarians and geth. The cooperation you founded between this platform and Creator Tali'Shepard only proved that peace is possible. You changed the variables, and still are. As a result, the geth saw this conversation as pivotal in our history. We will not forget your acceptance."

Marcus just snorted, shaking his head, "You make me out to be some kind of god, Legion. I'm just one man. I'm nothing without my crew or my squad; nothing without the Normandy, and certainly nothing without Tali."

"Shepard-Commander was the one who exonerated Creator Tali'Shepard when she went on trial," Legion pointed out, "Shepard-Commander also helped crew with personal assignments, such as this platform's request to stop the heretic virus. These were decisions made by you, not others. Shepard-Commander is also responsible for uniting the krogan and turians."

"That was Mordin," he immediately refuted, "Without his cure, that alliance would never have happened."

"But it was Shepard-Commander that inspired Solus-Professor to create cure," the geth immediately fired back, "Solus-Professor initially defended subject, but Shepard-Commander was able to convince Solus-Professor to create cure."

"I can't tell you not to put your faith behind me, Legion," Marcus decided to mediate, sighing heavily, "But in the end, I'm still one man, and I need my crew just as much as they need me. Progenitor or not, no one is winning this war single-handedly. This isn't Elysium, Torfan or Akuze. This time its more than ten thousand Reapers, its Reaper strongholds we have to storm, and these maws have thanix cannons. Either way, we need to focus on the here and now," he decided, lowering his weapon, "That was the last node, right?"

"Correct," Legion accepted the change of topic, its voice remaining disembodied, "We are now currently accessing the main core of the network. This process will likely take several minutes."

He nodded, "Okay then. Guess I'll just wait-"

**"SHEPARD!"**

Whatever Marcus had been about to say was cut off by the booming, disembodied voice that seemed to echo across the entire consensus. The voice also seemed to come from  _within_ his own mind, as if it were already there. He groaned from the sound, hands reaching to his ears in an attempt to block it out. The act was pointless however, given that it would not have blocked out the voice, and the fact that his hands just brushed against the exterior of his helmet. He collapsed to one knee, the sound so powerful that it felt like a hand was pushing him to the ground. His weapon fell from his hands and clattered to the ground, but remained within reach.

**"Your attempts to locate us are feeble and unacceptable. You cannot be allowed to continue."**

"Shepard-Commander, an Old Machine has found you."

_Gee, Legion. Thanks. I couldn't already tell._

Legion merely continued, "The Old Machine appears to be focused entirely on you, Shepard-Commander, and has not acknowledged our presence."

He managed to bring his head to look up, but the pressure was  _immense._ He felt like he might snap his neck if he continued to resist, "You want me...to be...a distraction?"

"We acknowledge the danger involved, Shepard-Commander. But we have no means to extract you from the consensus whilst the Old Machine is present, and we are already within the network. We need-"

"Do it, Legion. Just do it. I'll...hold it off."

With that, he let his head fall, finally giving into the pressure. It felt like it was coming from everywhere at once. The whispers were intense, the pressure in his head was unrelenting and felt like his skull would split, and his entire body felt like it was trying to carry 15 Grizzlies, stacked ontop of each other. And as if it couldn't get any worse, his body was stiff and frozen; barely able to move. Even blinking had become a gargantuan effort.

Words however. Words came easily, "Took you...long enough...to find me...guess you're not...as good...as you think...you are...asshole..."

**"You cannot continue."**

"You've said that," he growled, gritting his teeth as he tried to hide his pain, "But it doesn't matter. I've come this far, and I'll go further."

**"You cannot resist us. You will fail."**

He just chuckled maniacally, lips twitching in a vain smile, "I remember...Sovereign...saying something...just like that...and your buddy...Vanguard...too...you know what happened? They resisted, and they failed...so save me the bullshit...what's your name? All the other Reapers like to stylize themselves, so how about you?"

**"We are Oblivion. And we do not bother with petty notions of self-identification. What you call names are merely virtues of our form."**

He just raised an eyebrow at that comically, "So...what? You're...our...oblivion? That's...cute...but you know what? You're little...virutes...aren't going to...scare me..."

**"You will be harvested. Your attempts to stop us are merely delaying actions. You cannot stop us. You** _**will** _ **serve us."**

In a show of resistance, Marcus began to leverage himself up using the knee that was on the ground. The pain was excruciating, but he did not stop, and he continued to push himself up, even as his vision began to show a haze of reds and blacks, "I've devoted three years...of my life...to putting a...stop to you...and your brethren. I'l...be damned...if I go out...without a fight..."

**"Foolish and inconceivable. Your lack of logic only enforces ours. Everything you hold dear will perish or be ascended. Surrender to us, and feel harmony."**

He shook his head, continuing to push himself up, agonizing inch by agonizing inch, and finally managed to look up, even though there was nothing to look at. However, he did not fail to notice that a new set of tendrils had begun to encroach around him, swallowing up every path he could have used to escape, "Why...are you so...intent...on making me...surrender? Why...? Worried that we...might actually...beat you?"

**"The cycle has continued for thousands of millions of years. We are infinite. Every one of us is a nation. Free of all weakness. Compared to us, you are insects. Minute little creatures incapable of complex thought; unable to understand our plan. We are your salvation, even if you fail to recognize it. We bring order to the chaos of organic evolution. That is our task, and we have followed it with impeccability. You are nothing to us, and we do not feel worry."**

By the time Oblivion had finished talking, Marcus had already stood up, his muscles shaking with the effort to stay standing. It was then that he realized he hadn't picked up the weapon, and that it was still lying on the ground. Knowing that dropping back down to grab it and stand up again was a task measured in his ability to not pass out from the agony, he drew upon his last remaining option. He closed his eyes, thinking of the weapon as he responded.

"And you...are nothing...to  _us._ In all of...galactic history, we...have  _fought._ We have...lost... _friends_ and  _family_...we have  _sacrificed_...and we shall...do it...again...with you. Because...we will not...go down...easily. We will...fight...and we will lose...loved ones...and we will...sacrifice. And we're going to take...down...as many of you...fuckers...as we can. We...we..."

He thought long and hard, and after breaking through Oblivion's mental hold, the weapon immediately came to mind, and he felt its familiar grip in his hands, a cold smile creeping across his face, "...will fight...or we'll...die...but we will never... _surrender_."

Opening his eyes, he slowly raised his weapon at the first tendril, which was now creeping towards him, bringing the butt of the weapon against his shoulder, "Victor...y...at any... _cost_."

And with the last remaining energy he had, he pulled the trigger.

Holding it down, he watched as the familiar lightning, tesla pulses of directed energy pulsed from the barrel, slamming into the approaching tendril with unshakable destructive force. For a few seconds, the tendril held against the onslaught, and a few seconds later, its advance halted. Finally, he watched as its tip exploded violently, particles shooting out in all directions and crackling with angry disintegration. One by one, the cubes holding together the parasitic tendrils were vaporized, and after a few more moments of this, he eventually let go of the trigger, lowering his weapon as he admired his work.

The tendril had effectively been sliced in half. Marcus grinned, looking up, as if to search for the non-existent look on Oblivion's equally non-existent face.

"How's that for a  _fuck you_?" he shouted, feeling himself finally able to move freely as he took aim with his weapon at the next tendril behind him. His energy had also returned, allowing him to move alot more actively, without tiring. It was almost like watching that tendril had reenergized him. Continuing with his destruction, he fired again, proceeding with his rant, "You do not  _own me._ And you never  _will._ My mind is  _mine_ , not  _yours._ I've got something worth fighting for, how about you?"

Another tendril was evaporated, and like clockwork, he moved onto the next time, firing away with murderous intent, fury in his veins, "You have  _slaughtered_ ,  _murdered_  and caused  _unthinkable_ destruction for millions of years! But not once have you had to deal with  _me._ I'm the fucking  _devil_ , you pieces of shit!  _Your_ personal devil!  _I_ put Sovereign in its grave!  _I_ burnt away Harbinger's little fucking minions!  _I_ sent your buddies Desolation and Primal back into the atomic foundations from which they  _born_! And I watched, with glee, as Vanguard was  _fucking devoured_ by the mother of all thresher maws! So excuse me if I feel like a little  _fuck you_ is in order!"

Again and again, his assault became a spin, his body spinning in circles as he began to fire from the hip, his mind filled with a rage-induced rampage, "You have  _fucked_ with the people I love!  _Endangered_ the people I care about! You have  _corrupted_ ,  _used_ and  _thrown away_ innocent, good people! You have butchered colonies and slaughtered entire populations! And for what? You think you're the fucking galactic police? You think we  _care_ what you think? Well I say  _go to hell_! Actually, forget that!  _ **I'll send you there myself!**_ "

If Marcus had been looking to aggravate Oblivion, he had done a good job. The response he received wasn't just thunderous, it almost ruptured his eardrums; it was  _that_ loud.

**"ARROGANT** _**CREATURE** _ **!"**

The sound caused him to cease his attacks, but the grin remained on his face, unable to be shaken off, especially now that he had managed to piss off a Reaper. He released the trigger, the weapon lowering slightly as he observed his handiwork. An entire network of firewalls lay decimated before him; shrunken back and defeated. Some had even molded back into the walls, driven back by the intruder-who-shouldn't-be. But whatever tendrils were left were pulsing more brilliantly than they were before, gone from a simple red glow to bright maroon; so bright it almost blinded him. He tried to shield his eyes from it, but it was a moot effort; the light seemed to shine through his hands, as if they weren't there.

_Hard to remember that I'm in a machine's world. They rule here. Which is why I have this virus; only way to combat them._

But even as he stood their triumphant, the Reaper was about to go the extra mile and show just  _how_ disadvantaged he was in their world.

He watched as the glowing lights intensified, reaching their crescendo shortly before steadily beginning to die.

Marcus' smile instantly dropped as he watched the light die; and as those lights died, the tendrils began to  _rebuild_. Piece by piece, they began to reform, as if healing themselves to patch up the wounds he had inflicted. One by one, all around him, the tendrils began to fix themselves, to  _regenerate_ what he had done to them. By the time he had finished gawking in a mix of shock and horror at what had occurred, the tendrils were back to their original state; surrounding him, and blocking every conceivable exit path. Suddenly, he didn't feel so smug, or victorious. He was right back into the gates of hell, with a Reaper holding him at their mercy.

**"YOUR LIVES ARE MEASURED IN YEARS AND DECADES! YOU WILL ALL WITHER AND DIE, WHILE WE WITNESS THE PROGRESS OF** _**INFINITUDE!** _ **"**

Marcus felt the anger in the words; it was the anger of a machine, one he had not encountered before. He felt raw and unhinged; the fury of a Reaper was something rarely encountered. Sovereign and Harbinger had always been calm and collected; they had been every bit as patient and sure of their eventual victory. The patience of machines: millions of years of hibernations and orchestrated genocides had made them into machines capable of holding back the emotions of which they were capable of. Happiness, sadness, defeatism, anger, depression...Reapers could feel them, but they didn't entertain it. They were machines capable of genocide and had carried out such things for untold millenia; emotion wasn't on their roster of priorities.

So it came as a surprise when Oblivion let that previously caged emotion out; let it consume it. Marcus had finally pushed a Reaper to its limits; he had finally broken its will and felt the unhinged raw fury of a Reaper out.

He watched as one tendril detached and shot towards him. He raised his weapon and fired, an arc of lightning pulsing out to meet it head-on. But to his further shock, the tendril swatted it aside, shrugging off his attacks even as he held down on the trigger. Finally, it reached him. He attempted to roll back to get out of range, but could only watch as it strafed to the left and shot back towards him, tearing through the weapon in his hands and tossing it from his grip.

He did manage to walk back, but could only watch as the tendril sliced the virus in half, causing the physical representation of the gun to disperse into randomly-generated pixels. They too eventually evaporated, leaving the air clear as Marcus continued to step back, now utterly defenseless.

"Uh, Legion..." he spoke, looking all around himself as he watched other tendrils begin to descend, "I could use an exit plan right about now..."

There was no response.

"Legion?"

Still no response, and silence loomed aside from the  _blull, blull, blull_ of his retreat.

**"YOU** _**WILL** _ **SERVE US! AND YOU WILL KNOW ALL THAT WE POSSESS!"**

His retreat halted as he felt a tendril reach behind him, slapping him across the back with the force of a truck. He cried out as he glided through the air, only to slam into the ground, driving the air from his lungs. He grunted, shaking his head, looking up to see if something else was reaching for him before standing up. Before he could however, another tendril shot towards him and slammed into his face. The attack was like a punch, the interior of the helmet slamming against his nose and breaking it. He fell on his back, but despite the broken nose he had, he did not feel the familiar warmth of blood dripping down his face; he felt nothing but pain.

"I will never...serve...you...or anyone else...I am...I am..." he winced, trying to stand up, but finding that he now lacked the strength to do so.

**"OUR CO-EXISTENCE IS ALREADY GUARANTEED! SUBMIT! END YOUR TORMENT!"**

Another tendril slammed into him, driving more air from his lungs, followed by a second slamming into his left leg, pulverizing the bone. He screamed as he felt bone fragments grounded into powder, his left leg now hanging uselessly.

_Just a simulation...just a simulation...just a simulation..._

"I...will never...submit...too much...to fight for..."

**"SUBMIT AND THE QUARIAN MAY KNOW PEACE AS YOU DO! SERVE US, AND BOTH OF YOU WILL KNOW PEACE EVERLASTING! WE** _**ARE** _ **YOUR SALVATION THROUGH DESTRUCTION! SUBMIT,** _**SUBMIT!** _ **"**

Anger flooded his veins, but he couldn't even stand anymore; his broken leg was practically holding him down.

"You will...you'll  _never_ touch her!" he growled, trying to steady his breathing, "I will...destroy all of you...before you ever...ever..."

**"YOU CANNOT PROTECT HER! SHE HAS EARNED THE RIGHT TO BE ASCENDED! SURRENDER NOW AND YOU WILL BE SAVED!"**

"That...isn't life...your  _choice_...isn't  _life_..." he spat back, rolling onto his stomach despite the pain involved in such a movement. Reaching one arm forward, he grabbed onto the ground and dragged himself across the ground, grunting with effort as he pulled himself forward. The pain from his now useless limb being dragged across was unbelievable, but he didn't let it stop him, unwilling to surrender, "I...fight...for a future...that is  _not_ yours...to decide...we  _deserve_ a future...we deserve  _hope_ for a future...we will decide our  _own_ future! To... _hell_ with yours!"

**"YOUR HOPE FOR A FUTURE IS FLAWED AND IMPOSSIBLE. WE ARE THE ORDER IMPOSED ON THE CHAOS! WE ARE YOUR SAVIORS! EMBRACE THE GIFTS WE PROVIDE!"**

"Fuck your gifts..." he spat, continuing to move forward relentlessly, "...that's not your decision..."

**"WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO FIGHT US? YOUR CONCEPT FOR CONTINUED EXISTENCE IS FLAWED AND UNREASONABLE. WHAT MAKES YOUR FUTURE BETTER THAN THE ONE WE CAN PROVIDE?"**

He only smiled, stopping his crawling for a moment to respond, the thought of Tali coming to mind. He pictured her on the edge of a cliffface overlooking a Rannochian ocean, sitting on the veranda of their house. A nice, large, two-storey house, leaning back in a wooden chair. The wind blew through her luscious black hair, a smile gracing her beautiful face. The image brought him renewed determination.

He knew what  _he_ fought for.

"I've got a house," he breathed, "Nothing you've got can compare."

**"FOOLISH AND IRRESPONSIBLE. YOUR TIME IS MEASURED. YOU WILL SUBMIT. ASCENSION IS SUPERIOR!"**

"Well, you know what?" he turned over onto his back, watching the tendrils rise above him, ready for the final blow, "Fuck your ascension. Fuck your superiority. Fuck  _you._ And tell Harbinger this; even if you do kill me, you've still got the Normandy crew to deal with. And that's nothing compared to what my wife will do to you. There's an entire galaxy out there ready to be united and face you. We will bring such a fucking fury down on you that'll make you develop  _urinary tracts._ So you know what? Just kill me. At least then I'll have front row seats to your _destruction._ You know what I am? I'm your  _destruction through destruction._ "

It took Oblivion several seconds to respond.

**"SO BE IT. IF YOU WILL NOT SUBMIT, WE WILL TAKE YOU BY FORCE."**

Marcus just shrugged, chuckling as he slouched back, "So be it indeed. Do what you need to do. Just remember what I said. I'll see you in hell, asshole." Marcus had reached the point where he was so used to being in near death scenarios like this that he just accepted it. So in the end, there was no final mental goodbye for Tali. He knew that she would continue this fight without him. That his loss would only fuel her ferocity and determination to see the Reapers sent to their cosmic grave. That's who she was now. She was no shy pilgrim anymore; she was a married quarian admiral, who had the badassery to knock off, not to mention an entire crew loyal to her. After all, she was his wife...

If anyone could take up his mantle, it was Tali.

_Make me proud, Tali. Make that house on Rannoch, and when old age claims you, we'll both have that toast. I'll hold the drinks._

And he left a silent prayer for himself.  _I know I haven't been very devout these past couple years, Lord. Hell, I've been a complete and utter atheist, I'll admit. Not so much as a prayer. But I will ask this. Look after Tali. Please, please oh Lord...watch over her. Guide her along a better path, and please...do not let her end her life when this war is over. Make sure she lives a peaceful life...even if she must find happiness in the arms of another, make sure she lives a good-_

Just before the tendrils reached him, they were destroyed, struck by simultaneous bolts of lightning from multiple directions. The tendrils exploded, unable to stand to the attacks, and receded as the assault continued. Tendril after tendril disappeared rapidly and assuredly, unable to handle the multiple bursts.

All it did was leave Marcus confused. At least until one voice boomed over the consensus.

"Your future is not viable," Legion declared, its holographic form appearing next to his, arms spread out, "We will choose our own."

**"Inferior machine. You cannot understand the threads that hold this galaxy together. Our future is the only future. There is no alternative."**

Legion did not even acknowledge Oblivion's response, simply turning to Marcus and nodding, "Shepard-Commander, we have penetrated the Old Machine's defenses and activated the node. You must hurry and enter it before you are lost. You must hurry. We can only hold them off for so long."

"Legion..." he breathed.  _God, is this my salvation? Am I really worth your time?_

"Shepard-Commander, you must go."

"Did...did you..."

"Yes," the geth responded, knowing what he was going to ask, "Now go."

Marcus simply nodded, rolling back onto his stomach and beginning to crawl towards the pod that had appeared behind him during Legion's opening speech. As he continued to crawl, he could hear Legion still speaking, "Your ideals are flawed and outdated. Their exists the possibility of peaceful co-existence between creators and the created. Your ideals are based upon the presumption of this inevitability's impossibility. You are therefore obsolete."

**"IGNORANT MACHINE! You cannot hope to comprehend what we know for fact! WE ARE ORDER! If you would aid the perputuation of chaos, then you must be eradicated. Your parasitic idiosyncrasies cannot be allowed to fester."**

Marcus was almost there. He reached out his arm, feeling his hand brush against the smooth metal of the pod. The hatch was already open, so all he did was grab the edge and begin to lift. The pressure on his broken leg was unbearable, but he continued, unwilling to surrender.

"Even in chaos, there exists order," the geth declared, its voice raising an octave, as if...getting passionate about what it was saying, "Your philosophies are based upon millenia of false ideas and obsolete concepts. There exists the possibility of peace between creator and created; one you fail to acknowledge. Because of this, you are now a danger to our future. A danger to the geth's future, and that of the quarians. And because of this, you must die."

Even as Marcus pulled himself into the pod, he had to freeze and look at the geth, eyes wide in surprise.

_He called them quarians...he never does that..._

**"You cannot threaten us, inferior machine. You are but one against many."**

"Negative," Legion declared, raising its arms once more, "We are all Legion, for  _we_  are many. And soon,  _all_ geth  _shall be free_!"

He turned back as blue pulses began their assault against the Reaper manifestations that had turned from firewalls to attack software. His cybernetics gave him the added boost he needed to pull himself fully into the pod, allowing him to crumble into the back of it as the hatch closed. Outside, he could only watch Legion standing absolutely still, arms still raised, watching as the tendrils repeatedly tried to attack the geth, only to be swatted away.

Oblivion roared its anger.

It wasn't long before the hatch was closed, and the consensus began to depart from his mind as his eyes suddenly felt droopy. Everything began to fade; the unbearable pain, the sound of pulses outside, the thoughts of Tali and God's divine intervention...all of it began to disappear. In the end, only one thing occupied his mind; something he had seen just before he 'lost consciousness.' Something that would continue to bother him right until the moment he woke up.

Those pulses had looked like the cubes.

**"It must have been surreal...seeing my people's history like that..."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Even today, quarian history is still incomplete. The geth remember alot, but they can only remember what happened during their existence. Anything before the first geth has been lost permanently. Probably for the best."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"To live in the past to** _**be** _ **in the past. Our people needed to move on."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"No argument from me. Besides, the glory of the old Republic has been restored, with the Reaper's gifts to guide us along."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Wait...** _**Reaper's gifts** _ **? Don't tell me you-"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Before you have a heart attack,** _**captain** _ **, we can assure you that all Reaper technology we used was scrubbed, checked and engineered from scratch. Almost all original Reaper technology is long gone, replaced by our...improvements. Let's just say that if the Reapers were to invade in this day and age, we'd destroy them without even bringing about our full military might."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Is that so?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"She's telling the truth, Mark. There hasn't been a case of indoctrination for seventy years. Not since the war. Those who were indoctrinated were only leftover traitors from the Reaper War. Any original Reaper tech we use are their corpses, which have been repurposed into remoted-control warship drones. Harbinger now serves as part of the Coalition fleet."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"As interesting as discussing military technology is, however, we do have an interrogation to finish. Now, you said you had entered the pod..."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, after reentering the pod, at least in the consensus world, I woke back up in the real world. What I found wasn't quite what I expected though..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, but a massive headache, coupled with some halloween celebrations, a few SACs at school, and Halo 5 has left me a little less fiction-savvy and more into the whole 'reminding myself why I'm a gamer' shtick.** _

_**As for Halo 5, its definitely worth the buy. Campaign was definitely a bit short for my tastes, and unless you've read the books or played the previous games, you're not going to know what the fuck is going on (which is how it should be, if you ask me). I'm annoyed at the lack of actual Master Chief/Blue Team-oriented missions. The focus on Locke is annoying, but I guess Buck does improve the situation alittle; who doesn't love Nathan Fillion?** _

_**As for multiplayer and Warzone, they are shitloads of fun; extremely addictive. SWAT, Slayer and Breakout are particularly fun, but that's mostly because getting kills in SWAT never stops feeling extremely satisfying. Highly recommend them.** _

_**Anyway, next chapter will be the twist. Hope you guys like what's coming.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _

_**Or should I say, Keelah Re'lai. ;)** _


	49. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's team is taken by surprise by Randall Ezno's squad, and subdued. He doesn't get to enjoy his victory for very long.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN:**

**FORGIVENESS**

_July 9, 2186_

_0952 hours._

_Connection Node A-672, Geth Superstructure Housing Server Hub 02241-14511, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Legion._

Dead. That's how he felt.

As soon as the consensus that had once surrounded him began to fade away, Marcus had just wanted to slip back into the peaceful serenity of slumber. It would have been easy. All he needed to do was close his eyes, shut out the world around him, and just  _sleep._

But he didn't. By the time the consensus had disappeared, the black had creeped into his vision at a terrifying rate. Within seconds, all he saw was the darkness; he couldn't even make out the interior of his pod. For a moment, he figured he had closed his eyes; but try as he might, he could not open them. The black was insistent, denying him the freedom of awakening. So he just stood there, letting what he assumed was sleep claim him.

Then he remembered all that had happened. All he had seen. The entire history of the first morning war had been shown to him; he had seen  _the truth._  The whole truth. Not the quarian propaganda the conclave fed to their people to stir hatred for their enemy. The actual truth. Unedited. Unperverted. Unbiased. After all, geth could not be either of those things. It only reaffirmed his belief that peace was possible; watching quarians willingly put their lives on the line to protect geth, and then watching those same quarians murdered by their own kind. The political white-washing, the slaughter...all of it pointless. And three hundred years later, an even bigger slaughter would have occurred...could  _still_ occur...but he would stop it.

Then he remembered the Reaper. Oblivion. He had felt its presence all around him; but nowhere as palpable as his own mind. The invasion of his mental synapses, the attempt to corrupt who he was...he had tried so hard to resist, but it was inconceivably powerful. Its sheer will...and when it had offered peace and salvation...when it had said that he could ascend not only him, but Tali, to a higher state...he had been  _tempted._ He had almost  _given in._

Combined with the destruction of his left leg and the pain it brought, as well as the incessant attacks from the weaponized Reaper firewalls, he had been left weak and vulnerable. Hell, he had barely resisted the Reaper. He had no doubt that if Legion hadn't turned up when it did, Marcus might not have survived. Oblivion would have corrupted him. Destroyed him.

_I would have become a willing tool. No...I can't let that happen. Not to me. Too many depend on me. I can't...I can't do that to Tali...yet, she musn't know..._

This hadn't been the first time the Reapers had almost corrupted him. It hadn't been the first time they tried to...turn him. It had happened many times, but Illium had been the first time they had almost succeeded. The first time they had almost crumbled what was left of him and corrupted him into a twisted, mindless minion. And then, once again, it had been his crew who saved him...

And now he had once again been on the cusp of death. He had felt so helpless...so tempted to give in...and yet again, a member of his crew came to his rescue. It was with that that he realized that without his crew, he was hopeless. He never would have gotten this far without them. He helped them, and they kept him alive in return. He survived through them.

Illium. Rannoch. He had to end this. He had to fight against the oppression of his mentality. He would not be tempted. He would not surrender. He would fight or die, or  _both._ He would achieve victory at any cost. If the cost was his own life, so be it! But he would not let the Reapers destroy who he was. They could kill him, but they would never do that...

He wouldn't let them.

As he came to his decision, he felt the world coming back into focus. Slowly, the darkness retreated, slowly etching away and surrendering his vision back to him. He began to make out features of the pod, and he felt his eyes began to open; the lock placed on them slowly releasing. He looked around, and he saw nothing but grey...that was a good sign. He was still in the pod.

He turned back, noting how much his neck ached from being still for so long, and he was able to make out the transparent hatch, and the blurry outlines of his squad moving outside. Sound hadn't quite returned yet, meaning all he could hear was slight mumbles; whispers at best. He felt his back scraping against the back of the pod as he stirred, and he clenched and unclenched his fists to test his reflexes. To his relief, his hands reacted, albeit sluggishly. He also noted that the 'pain' in his leg was no longer present; a sign that his leg wasn't actually pulverized, which left him feeling immensely relieved, even if he was still exhausted.

He groaned as his vision started to clear, leaving him feeling groggy. His head was pulsing like a group of krogan had gone around in it with sledgehammers, and every other part of his body ached. Normally, in a situation like this, he would attempt to crack his neck to relieve the pressure on it, but he couldn't even find it in himself to garner the energy to do that. His armor felt so heavy that he just wanted to rip it off; the armor made it feel like he was being pulled to the ground, as if a magnet was trying to pull him down. It was a feeling that left his body begging to be relieved, and he almost complied.

But again, he did not even have the energy to do that. It was as if his cybernetics had failed him; almost as if they too were too fatigued to provide him with the necessary energy.

Then, a dull ringing in his ears; his thoughts immediately had him assuming a flashbang had gone off, but he had seen no flash, and his vision was not stained with the inky black blots that were usually associated with the retina's encounter with the visually damaging flash of light. His ears just continued to ring, loudly and incessantly, while he just continued to stand. Slowly, he felt himself leaning forward, eyes wanting to close and give into the warmth and comfort of sleep.

He didn't see or hear the hatch open upon his approach; he was too sleepy to bother taking notice of his surroundings. However, his mind did take notice when he felt his legs trip over the bottom of the pod, causing him to fall outwards. He grunted as he landed on the cold, metal floor outside. The impact sent all the air in his lungs fleeing, and in an instant, like a spark lighting the fire, his vision immediately cleared, and the ringing in his ears faded away. The exhaustion did not die, and his body still felt it had been tossed about, but his vision and hearing was back to normal...for now.

He groaned as he tried to push himself off the ground, his cheek pressed against the cold floor, chilling his skin. He took notice of where he was, and achieved some relief when he noticed it was the same place as before; the superstructure housing the server hub, with the same, near-endless isle of connection nodes, with geth filling each one. The ones surrounding them all contained geth primes, at least a platoon of them, all still and frozen, still connected to the server and likely alerted to their presence by Oblivion.

He moved one hand to the ground in an attempt to push himself up, but a voice broke his thoughts, right above him.

"Marcus, are you okay? Talk to me, please..."

He looked back down the isle, and was able to immediately notice two, humanoid forms standing not too far away from him, a male on the right and a female on the left. He didn't need to ask who they were, as he would recognize James and Keeling from anywhere. James' helmet was now on, but was not sealed as EVA required, whilst holding his spitfire in lower parry. Keeling was facing the opposite way, valkyrie raised, still devoted to her duty to the end, even with her CO on the ground.

Any prior plans of rolling onto his back to see the one person he wanted to see the most were dashed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, preparing to do the task for him. He simply let himself be rolled over onto his back with a dull creak of armor and fabric moving together, now able to see much more clearly. But he wasn't taking note of Garrus or Liara, the latter of which was now crouched on his left, looking just as worried as Garrus did. Except Garrus chose to represent his worry by looking around the pod, seemingly baffled by what could have caused his captain's sudden condition.

Crouched on his left, and now holding his armoured hand tightly, was Tali, her entire posture radiating worry and concern. Her eyes were squinted in a frown, and she continued to babble in her worry, "Marcus, say something. Don't just leave me hanging like this. Please Marcus, talk to me. Don't just lie there!"

It was an effort to even speak, but he managed it, despite how much it hurt his throat to do so. It was then that he realized how dry his throat was; it felt like sandpaper, and breathing caused this ragged sound to echo through his oesophagus, making it sound as if he had throat cancer. Swallowing was painful by itself, let alone the breathing that followed it.

"I'm...okay...darling..." he grinned, trying to put up his usual flamboyant demeanour during combat, "...just  _really_  tired...all of a...sudden...and my body... _aches_..."

The response he got was a simple slap to the chest, the quarian shaking her head as she then proceeded to upgrade said slap to a punch, this one aimed at his arm. He bit his lip at the impact to feign pain; mixed with the armor plating shielding that area and the quarian female's slightly weaker frame, her punch did little to actually hurt him, but she didn't need to know that.

"Keelah, I hate it when you do that," she chastized, remaining crouched as she looked him in the eyes with irritation, "Making me believe you're in danger when you're not."

He managed a weak laugh, but all it did was aggravate his already sour throat. Growing tired of the mild inflammation, he gritted his teeth, and turned back to his wife, "I...need my...canteen..."

She didn't need further instruction, reaching down and unclasping his water canteen from his hip. She then unscrewed the cap, letting it hang on the string that held it in place, before motioning for him to sit up. He did just that, noting that Liara stood up as he did, now sufficiently eased in her worry. Sitting up was much more effort than it should have been, but it was worth the reward; once firmly seated, Tali brought the canteen to his lips, and he began to eagerly sip.

A few seconds in, he gently eased the water from her hands and took it in his own, grinning slightly as he continued to drink it, this time much more vigorously, "Its okay, Tali...I can...drink."

She made no response, simply crouching in silence as he drank. And that he did. The water poured down his throat, soothing it so completely that it might as well have been the nectar of the gods. He could feel the canteen steadily emptying, and usually he would have stopped by now to conserve it for later; but right now, he didn't care. He drank and drank like his life depended upon it. And when the canteen was finally light from a lack of water, and the last drop passed his lips, he screwed the cap back on, sighing in relief.

The water had saved his throat from pain, but it hadn't revitalized his system. He still felt sluggish, and he still felt abnormally tired. Just continuing to sit up was becoming more effort than it was worth, and he felt the urge to simply lie back and close his eyes. After all, the mission was complete. Legion had extracted the location of the Reaper signal, and soon, the war would be over. He had every reason to want to rest.

But rest could wait until he was in a comfy bed; his own bed, in particular. Until then, sleep could wait.

"Do you want a help up?" Tali asked as he attached the canteen back to his utility belt.

"If you...don't mind..." he replied, nodding as he held out his hand, "My body...isn't...at its...peak...right now..."

"Such an old man," Garrus mumbled, "You'd think you'd just retire already."

"Hey Garrus?" Marcus began, turning towards the turian, who now stood beside Liara, his sniper rifle lowered and mandibles split in grin, "Remember when I told you to get fucked?"

"Not once, but multiple times," the turian replied, "But yes, I recall that quite well."

"Yeah, well consider that a standing order, smartass. Now come and help me up."

"Yes sir," Garrus chuckled, reaching down and, with Tali's help, pulling the captain to his feet. The effort was strenous, and it took several seconds for Marcus to get used to standing again, but this time, he was able to do it without falling over, which he saw as a win. Once he was standing up and steady, he steadily walked backwards until he was leaning against the edge of the pod, rubbing his head.

"Wow...that pod must have really done a number on me," he groaned, shaking his head.

"What did you even see?" Garrus asked, the rest of the squad, aside from Keeling, moving infront of him out of curiosity, "No organic has accessed the geth consensus before. So tell us...what was it like?"

Marcus licked his lips as he worked up a response, using a nonchalant shrug as a precursor, "Its...uh...hard to describe. Although it was...um...full of cubes. And grids. Alot of cubes, actually. Trillions of them. Sextrillions. It was immense."

"Cubes?" James asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically, "You entered the geth consensus, and you're telling us its made of cubes?"

"That's how Legion physically and visually represented it for me, yeah. Apparently organics aren't actually capable of visually seeing the consensus; he actually ran a simulation around me so that I could perceive it as a world rather than just software. Even so, it was...definitely something different. Can't say I'll look forward to going back, but it was certainly something no other person can claim to have seen," he also remembered the other things he had seen, the...memories of a war that happened centuries ago, "I also saw the First Morning War."

There was silence after his revelation for a few moments. Noone said anything, all they did was stare at him, pondering what he had just declared. Garrus just looked at him wide-eyed, James and Liara looked confused, and Tali...wasn't showing much of anything. She just stood eerily still, watching him, like she was trying to guage something from him.

Finally, a few seconds later, she spoke, "You saw...the morning war? How..."

He breathed, sniffing slightly, "I...Legion and I had to clear these nodes to access the information we needed, but he had to use me to piggyback on the nodes. While he did that...I...he...chose to show me...um...he chose to show me the geth's memories of the war. Not just photos, Tali...I was looking at it as it actually happened."

"Keelah..." Tali almost silently exclaimed, rubbing her mask, "That's...I don't know what to say. What...what exactly did you see?"

"I don't exactly know how to describe it. It was alot to take in. After all, I was seeing history noone other than a few asari or krogan have seen before. And I'm certainly the first human to experience it," he coughed, covering his mouth as he did, the sound still too dry for his tastes, "From what I could tell, though...it wasn't what I was expecting. I think both sides have been getting alot of unjustified hate Tali..."

"What do you mean?" Garrus asked, hesitantly giving Tali a concerned look before stepping in, holstering his weapon, "I mean, no offense Tali, but it must be pretty obvious by now that the quarians were at fault for the war. Everything that's happened could have been stopped if your people had simply thought about their actions," he then turned to Marcus, after making sure Tali wasn't angry at him, "So how could that hate be unjustified in a third party's eyes?"

"In more ways than you know, Garrus," was Marcus' simple, but blunt reply. After a moment, he just straightened his back, drew in a deep breath, and squeezed Tali's shoulder in reassurance, "But we can talk about this back on the Normandy. Right now, I can't wait to get back," upon finishing his sentence, he realized that one person was missing out of all of the people gathered. Frowning, he turned to Tali, "Where's Legion?"

He didn't fail to notice their hesitant glances to his right. James seemed to grit his teeth, nodding in the intended direction. Liara moved out of the way so that he could see what they meant, while Tali just nodded for him to look. Following their gazes, he turned around, and frowned.

Standing right beside his pod, on the right, straight and unmoving, was Legion. Its arms hung limply at its sides, its legs held it firmly upright, and its head was lowered, optics seemingly staring at the ground. They did not glow like they used to; instead, the geth seemed to be totally offline; the hole in its armor, where most of the circuitry glowed due to their interaction with the oxygen, was still humming, but not as brightly as usual, and its optics seemed all but turned off. The geth didn't even make a sound; it didn't look up to address them, and it didn't move to arm itself, weapons remaining seated on its back. It didn't so much as budge an inch.

Now fully turned, his frown only deepened. He thought through all all the reasons for why the geth wouldn't move or acknowledge them, and when he finally reached his worse case scenario, he stopped. There could only be one, possible option. He didn't like it; the very thought of entertaining it scratched incessantly at his consciousness, and he tried to fight it. He began to shake his head, almost desperately, and his squad could only watch on in concern as he backed up against his pod, still shaking his head. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the inevitability of what had happened. He had lost so many friends now, the answer could only be expected at this point.

_Not you too, Legion. Not you too. I've lost too many friends already. You can't be next._

Even as he collapsed to the ground, sliding against the pod's outer surface until he was on the cold, metal deck, the thoughts persisted, now opening more variables.  _Not only that, but we've lost our only key to the Reaper signal._ Legion had been the only one who knew about the location of the signal, which meant that with Legion dead, the location had been lost with him. They were back to square one.

The unfairness of him began to feel like a weight, pulling him down.  _I've lost a friend and the key to this war! And its all because of the very bastards we're trying to destroy!_ He grabbed at his head, but despite the overwhelming ferocity of the grief that hit him, he didn't cry. Captain Marcus Lee Shepard could do many things, but he was incapable of crying.

_Oh no, I'm the Lion of Elysium! Infallible Hero of the Citadel! The man who took on the Collectors without an ounce of fear! Well I was afraid! I was fucking_ _**terrifed** _ _! So why can't I cry? Why can't I weep? Why can't the galaxy just let me be_ _**a fucking human being** _ _!?_

Of course, that didn't stop him. He still refused to let even a tear out, knowing that it would break his squad's morale to see him like this. So instead he pulled his hands away from his face, clenching them tightly continously to ease the stress from his system slowly, and gradually. Eventually, he managed the strength to open his eyes, now confident that he wouldn't break. He looked up, his eyes meeting Tali's. She simply stood over him, looking down upon him sympathetically. Upon seeing the hurt in his eyes, she lowered her head, sniffing.

_I'm not the only one hurting._

Even Garrus had lowered his sniper rifle, head hung low. Liara had her arms crossed, but instead of mourning, she seemed to be whispering something under her breath, eyelids lowered in thought. Marcus just sighed, straightening his legs as he remained seated against the pod. He rubbed his forehead and looked up one final time; this time, his eyes landed on Legion, and he realized that yet another friend was gone. Added to the casualty list of war.

_Jacob. Mordin. Thane. And now Legion. How many more will I lose?_

_Victory at any cost, remember?_

_Yes, but is the cost too high?_

_No cost is too high in a war such as this._

Despite how disgusted he was at admitting it, he had to admit what his mind was saying was right. In a war like this, where victory hinged on sacrifice, lives had to be given for the greater good. It was whether or not those lives actually mea-

"Contact!" Keeling shouted, followed by a single burst of fire from her rifle, "Get do-"

His squad didn't even have time to find cover.

By the time Marcus and his squad had turned to acknowledge the threat Keeling had been talking about, a pair of small, disc like objects flew through the air and landed on the ground, bouncing slightly before coming to their final resting place. He knew what they were before they even detonated; frag grenades were spherical objects, with a single button ontop to help prime it. An incendiary grenade was more of a cone-like shape, and glowed bright crimson.

This was a disc, and it glowed bright white.

Eventually, both detonated, split-seconds apart from each other. He groaned as he immediately felt white light force its way into his vision, burning his retinas momentarily, leaving him with a stained, blurry image of what he had seen before; the image of his squad standing around him was temporarily etched into his retinas, like an image on a slideshow. The edges of black and smudged, and the pain from the flashbang was intense. The ringing in his ears was loud and constant, drowning out all other sound and leaving him deaf to the world around him. It was so loud that he almost cried out against it, but instead he simply fell forward, grasping his head as he shook his head, desperate to clear his vision so he wasn't so vulnerable.

His squad were likely in similar states of disarray; even Tali's tinted visor wouldn't be enough to save her eyes from a flashbang. They were likely all just like him; ears ringing and eyes stained with the image of the last thing they saw before the blast, inky and black outlining them like historical photographs.

He did feel slight vibrations in the floor though; most likely geth were running towards them. However, after a second of thinking that, he changed his mind, realizing that geth didn't use flashbangs; if they wanted a target dead, they would do it. The geth wouldn't waste time with stunning their enemy, they would quickly and ruthlessly neutralize them. Flashbangs weren't a technology the geth specialized in or even utilized.

_But its the only thing that makes sense...no one but the geth could be here but us. The quarians wouldn't attack allies, so what the fuck is going on? Who the hell is attacking us?_

He shook his head erratically, desperately trying to ward off the sound that killing his hearing. The dull ring dug into his brain, quickly reminding him of his experience with Oblivion within the consensus. This realization, coupled with the physical pain his retinas were bringing him, he gave a low, throaty growl.

The slight vibrations on the ground had stopped; whoever had been running at them, had now stopped. Likely towering over them. If they had truly been geth, his squad would be dead right now, including himself. So that confirmed that who they were facing were a total anomaly.  _But who the hell else could be on Rannoch except us? You'd have to get through the geth blockade, and there's no way someone's survived on Rannoch all these years._

After a few seconds, he felt his vision clearing up, and reality began to take hold, and he could see people moving around. As his vision continued to clear up, he noticed a lone form lying on the ground, wearing red and black armor, helmet sporting a large crack across the visor, with their valkyrie rifle at least a meter from them.  _Keeling._ She clearly wasn't dead, Marcus watching as one of their attackers' legs came into view, armoured boot sweeping across and kicking the rifle behind them, further away from Keeling. The edge of a rifle came into view, barrel aimed directly at Keeling, and as Marcus' hearing began to repair itself as well, he could hear the attacker yelling, their cybernetically enhanced voice almost sounding robotic. A swift kick was sent towards Keeling's chest, and despite being heavily disoriented from the flashbang, she managed to weakly deflect it. This only angered their attacker, who promptly sent his other foot flying, catching her across the helmet. Her head snapped back, almost crying out from the blow. This time, the soldier pinned one of her arms to the ground, continuing to shout angrily, but otherwise not moving or even opening fire.

His squad was not fairing much better. James was slightly better off than Keeling, the man crouched, but brought to one knee, one of his hands braced on it, while the other was splayed across the cold floor. Infront of him, another one of the attackers stood, this one wielding a shotgun, pointed directly at James, but not close enough for the marine to reach up in time and grab it. James however was not fighting, simply giving his attacker what he imagined was the biggest glare he could muster, clearly not happy at being defeated.

Garrus was slowly unholstering his weapons and putting them on the ground, all the while keeping his hands up. Marcus did not fail to notice another of the attackers, this one female, holding a pistol to the back of the turian's skull, shouting orders at him like he was at basic, whilst he simultaneously unarmed himself. His sniper rifle was already on the ground, and his mattock soon followed, then his grenades...

Liara was in a similar state to James, but was grasping her head in agony. Marcus didn't fail to notice that the asari hadn't tried to use her biotics on their attackers, but then realized that they likely had biotic inhibitors to combat them. Inhibitors usually tapped into the implants or, lacking those, the brain of the user, sending a signal that blocked all neural pathways that allowed the biotic to physically summon their abilities. The side effect was an immense headache, about equivalent to the migraines L2s got, hence Liara's current state, bent over and in absolute pain.

As Marcus brought his eyes to Tali, his vision had finally returned to normal, with only a few inky spots at the edge of his peripherals, and the ring was still there, but overall, he was back to normal. Also thanks to the flashbang however, the perilymph in his ear had been disturbed, meaning that his balance was now totally fucked. This meant that every little turn had left him slightly dizzy, and standing up was now totally out of the question.

To his surprise, Tali seemed to be the one least affected by the blast. So unaffected that she was capable of coming into a crouch infront of him, aware of his vulnerability, shotgun now out and in her hands, sweeping across the room. It was only now that he could make out the words she said.

"-impossible to be here! How did you get past the blockade?"

There was a slight stutter to her words, and her body seemed to sway slightly, but overall, she kept her balance. Obviously the flashbang didn't affect quarians as much as he thought it would; that, or she had done something to make sure it didn't.

The response was not robotic like the rest of their attackers. It was not cybernetically laced; it sounded like a normal voice. It did not possess the subtle verbrations of a turian. It was not heavily accented like a quarian. It wasn't slow like a elcor, didn't echo like a hanar, and did not have breathing stutters...meaning it wasn't a volus. It wasn't croaky, which ruled out batarian, or slightly faster than normal like that of a salarian, and it wasn't feminine...which ruled out asari. Not electronic, which meant not geth; and it didn't boom like a Reaper speaking through its servant. In the end, it was simply normal. Which left him only one possibility.

Human.

The voice was aged and overly confident; he gathered that the man was in his forties or early fifties. He sounded like a veteran; like a man that had seen alot of combat. The voice was not that of an amateur or a rookie mercenary, that much was obvious.

"Remember who we work for, Mrs. Shepard. Gaining access to this world was as seamless for us as it was for you."

When Marcus finally looked up to see who attacked them, Cerberus soldiers were the last things he expected to see.

From what he could count, they had been attacked by at least a small squad of men; mostly assault troopers, but the female standing behind Garrus was clearly a nemesis, and he could see two more standing beside their leader, flanking each side, each carrying silenced assault rifles in place of their usual sniper rifles. There were no centurions, phantoms, combat engineers or guardians from what he could see, and only one dragoon seemed to be present: he was the one holding a shotgun to Vega's head.

Then his eyes landed on their leader's face. He definitely wasn't what you'd expect in a Cerberus soldier. He wore what looked to be a modified variant of the Liberator armor, which was painted in the typical white of Cerberus, with gold lacing the collar and shoulderpads. Scuff marks and bullet holes marked its surface, along with the odd patch of dried blood, either red, purple or blue, that hadn't been quite scraped or wiped off.

Gripped in his hands, and currently lowered slightly, but still raised, was a harrier assault rifle, which was a automatic upgrade for the mattock heavy rifle. As seemed to be a trademark with Cerberus, their insignia was stamped on each side of it, and the weapon was coated gold and white, with black outline. A single pistol was seated on his hip; his only sidearm.

What struck Marcus next was his face. Grey, white hair. Angry, red pulsing cybernetics all along his face, reminding Marcus all too much of what he himself had looked like when he first woke up after the first Normandy's destruction three years ago. His eyes were cobalt, and he had a look about him that spoke volumes of his personality; ruthless. A machine. There was no smugness when he spoke to Tali; just cold, hard facts. This man was nothing like Leng. He was better.

_A pity he ain't here. Another chance to kill him, and I swore to finish it this time._

"What is Cerberus doing here?" Tali spat, shifting her shotgun from side to side as she remained crouched protectively infront of Marcus, acting as his guardian. His sentinel.

One of the nemeses raised their rifle at Tali, their voice much more high-pitched than those of standard assault troopers; it was cybernetically augmented, but far more feminine; more akin to a talkative, contained screech, "Permission to terminate, sir?"

Their leader suddenly grabbed her rifle, and forcefully lowered it while looking at her coldly, "No, the Illusive Man wants her alive."

_Her?_

Tali was just as surprised as he was, " _Her_? You mean me?"

The leader simply nodded.

Tali's response was less than flattered, gripping her shotgun more vigorously, "You came all the way here to Rannoch, risked detection by the geth fleet in orbit, and then likely followed us in here just to capture  _me_? How did you even find us?"

The leader did not make any further gesture other than to answer quickly and efficiently, "Simple. We had an agent on the Veil's border that kept us up to date on the Normandy's activities. We're aware of all you've been doing captain, and while I personally find it impressive, its doomed to failure. Uniting the geth and quarians will do nothing to stop the Reapers; you should know that by now. If you had only accepted the Illusive Man's decision and helped us...this may have been avoided. We might not be in this position right now."

Finally, Marcus spoke, "The Illusive Man...is indoctrinated. He's  _wrong._  The Reapers want him...and you...to all believe that they can be controlled. And in doing so, lead him into conflict with us. Don't you get it? The Reapers have engineered this entire conflict. The whole reason you're here, fighting us, is because the Reapers want it that way. To weaken us."

Their leader was unfazed, shaking his head, "It ultimately doesn't matter what you think is the truth, Shepard. What's true or not is none of my concern. I am merely a manhunter; I get my target, and I acquire them. And right now, he wants your wife."

Finally managing to get to one foot, Marcus turned, Tali remaining infront of him, eyes sighted downrange. Confident in his safety, and giving reassuring nods to his neutralized squad, he looked his wife's would-be captor in the eyes, "What's your name? I've already run into your buddy, Leng."

A grunt was his answer, "Leng is no friend of mine, I can assure you. As for my name, I am Randall Ezno, armourer aboard the Deliverance."

"You mean that cheap knock-off of the Normandy?" Garrus spoke up, "Because I could have sworn we-" the turian's speech was cut off by a sharp kick to the back of his right leg by the nemesis holding him captive, driving him to one knee, a growl breaking off his sentence and leaving it unfinished. He simply fell silent, the nemesis ensuring this by pressing the barrel of her pistol into the back of his head, reminding him where he was.

Satisfied the turian was quieted, the man named Randall continued, "You'll find that Leng is much my friend as he is yours, captain."

Marcus just grinned, speaking snarkily, "So you want to put his head on a spike? Could you tell Leng I said that? Tell him I made a promise."

"On some occassions, thoughts of his death would grant me some peace," Randall acknowledged, "But such thoughts are ones of barbarism and results of impatience. I have no time to entertain such notions, and quite frankly, I'm disappointed that someone of your stature would let yourself be preoccupied by them. I was brought to believe you were infallible."

Marcus just spat on the ground, wiping his lips nonchalantly, "Who ever made you believe that clearly listens to too much propaganda."

"Indeed," Randall concurred, shaking his head, "No matter. You're stalling for time, and I won't stand for it. Don't bother trying to contact your shuttle, as I have men dealing with Lieutenant Cortez right now. You see, Barnes told me to bring a small fireteam to bring your wife in. But, knowing your squad's reputation, I figured bringing a little extra kick would be necessary to reel her in. A small squad was more than sufficient, and right now, its work quite well. I've neutralized you and your extraction in one fell swoop."

Tali just snorted, "Are we supposed to be impressed?"

"No. No need to impress your enemies," the man quickly shot back, "And while many at Cerberus are impressed by the actions of your squad, we know our duty. Humanity. Earth is burning while you fumble around on this lost world, captain. To put it bluntly, I'm extremely disappointed that you'd rather waste time with quarians than save the human race from destruction. That is why you chose to serve, is it not?"

Marcus nodded, lips set grimly, "Originally, yes. But back then, they weren't exactly advertising for us to take the fight to the Reapers. Times have changed, Randall. Your narrowmindedness just shows how much Cerberus lives in the dark ages. You need to see that. You seem like a smart man."

"Normally, I would be honoured if you said that. After all, its a big deal to receive praise from a war hero," Randall drawled, shaking his head almost reluctantly, "But in the end, we must accept facts. You've turned your back on your own species, and for me, that is unforgivable. And combined with my duty to Cerberus, that leaves us at a crossroads, Shepard," the man then turned and faced Tali, "So how will this go, Mrs. Shepard? Will you fight or do this the easy way? The Illusive Man said that he'd prefer you alive, but has given me leeway to rough you up if I deem it necessary. Should I?"

The admiral's response was to wrack the slide back on her shotgun, and then pump it back forward, giving a familiar ca-chunk of the shell being loaded into the chamber; in this case, it was the plasma rod being inserted into the fusion chamber, "Very much. If you think I'm just going to give myself over, think again. I will never surrender to Cerberus, and I most certainly won't let you take me away from my  _yol'tiya._ You'll just have to try and take me."

Randall didn't raise his rifle, and he gave no orders to move forward, "Mrs. Shepard, you misunderstand the situation. You will not die protecting your mate because you are outnumbered. You will be neutralized, and you will leave your mate either way; make it easier for yourself and simply lay down your arms. Humble yourself, or we must be forced to do it for you. Trust me, the former would be preferable."

Tali just chuckled bitterly, "That's just  _it_. I don't trust you. Noone but a moron would trust Cerberus. And while your organization may have once stood for something, it doesn't anymore. You're a pack of fools, the lot of you. Following a madman trying to play God. You have no  _idea_ who you serve."

"Wrong," Randall immediately declared, raising his rifle once more, "We serve the shield of humanity, and we are the sword. The Alliance is too blinded by bueuracracy and Council diapers that they can't defend humanity effectively. They are corrupt. We are the sword. We are the shield."

"You're a pack of cowards in white and gold who claim to fight for the greater good and then try everything you can to prove otherwise," James spat in disgust, ignoring the dragoon's warnings to shut up, "You aren't humanity's sword. You're a dagger in our back."

"Poetic, but redundant," Randall dismissed, "Mrs. Shepard, this is the last warning I shall give you. Give up, I implore you. This will only hurt more than it should."

Marcus, angry and defiant, immediately pushed past Tali, summoning a tiny amount of energy and letting it siphon through his body. He used it to stand up, straightening his back and clenching his fists, ignoring Tali's protests as she too stood up. He narrowed his eyes at Randall, glaring.

"No, it'll only hurt me. Only way you're getting to her is through  _me._  Don't you fucking walk in here and assume I'm just going to let you take my wife."

A shotgun landed on his shoulder, and he knew Tali had his back. She was the only one who was still armed with a projectile weapon. Marcus had his omni-blade, but he was too far away to do anything.

Randall just shook his head, "Captain, that is reckless and selfish, and you know it. You will only bring more harm to your wife in the long run."

"I will  _die_ to keep her safe, and I will most certainly  _burn_ before I willingly step aside and let you walk out of here with her," he spat, "The Illusive Man may think he's devious and smart, but this move of his? It's moronic. The orders he's giving you are downright suicide."

Randall looked around almost playfully, before shaking his head and turning back to Marcus with a careless expression, "Let's be honest, Shepard. Your wife is the only armed person in the room. I could have your entire squad killed with a single order, and as skilled as your wife is, I calculate that she will only be able to take down two of my men before we take care of her. And you? I very much doubt you will pose a threat, captain. I hear your experience in the consensus has left you less than combat capable."

Marcus sported a weak grin, desperately trying to put on a meagre mask of hubris and determination. It wasn't working; Marcus knew Randall was right. His cybernetics were barely keeping him standing, and he had almost exhausted what was left of his energy just standing up. In a straight up fight, Marcus was helpless. Totally useless.

_Randall would kill me before I could close the distance fast enough to use my omni-blade._

_But I have to do something. I can't just stand here and let this happen._

"He's got me," Tali stepped up, gripping her shotgun more tightly, "And I think you underestimate your abilities. I'm not some feeble pilgrim anymore."

Randall just shrugged, "I'm not a simple soldier, either. I'm a Cerberus manhunter; one of the best. Do you remember Septimus Oraka, captain?"

Marcus nodded, "Retired turian general who led the turian forces during the Occupation of Shanxi during the First Contact War. His wife was Sha'ira the Consort. He rejoined the military just before the Reapers attacked Earth. He disappeared just before Palaven was attacked. He was assumed to be a deserter."

"Which made it much easier for me and Cerberus to make sure he was never found," Randall declared, "General Oraka disappeared because I took him. Thanks to him, we've developed many biological and chemical weapons that we can use against the turians in any future war. And I managed to capture him on Palaven, in the heart of a military compound."

Marcus just shrugged, "Am  _I_ supposed to be impressed? Leng was an N7 special forces operative, just like me, with a ruthless reputation, and I've kicked his ass twice now."

"Leng lacks the patience and professionalism to get the job done. There was a reason he was discharged from the Alliance," Randall stated, squaring his shoulders, "I'm a former Corsair. My job requires precision and patience that Leng lacks. He's the attack dog that barks loudly to scare off those he targets. I'm the quiet cat; small, unseen and quick, and much smarter."

"All that establishes is that you're a pussy,  _puta_ ," James jested, turning to look at Randall, "That's nothing to gloat about."

"To gloat and to state facts are two different things," the man declared, moving closer, rifle butt now pressed against his shoulder, "And what's a fact is that you're wasting my time. We have jested and played around long enough, and I have given you enough warnings."

"And I've ignored them long enough," Marcus growled, hand moving behind his back as he quietly activated his omni-blade, "If you want Tali, come and get her. I'll enjoy slicing your men in half."

"A pity," Randall tsked, shaking his head mournfully, "We could have done this peacefully. I have no desire to bring harm, but if necessity brings it, then have at it. I never fail my missions," he turned to the remaining men he had that weren't guarding prisoners, which were about six assault troopers, and ordered them forward, "Use stun rounds. Neutralize Shepard, and bring me his wife."

Marcus knew it was now or never.

As Randall turned to walk away, and his men moved to follow their orders, rifles beginning to raise, Marcus summoned new found energy, fueled by rage, and activated his omni-blade. In a whoosh and hiss of orange hardlight, he roared, charging forward. His advance startled Tali, but she nonetheless adapted, taking aim with her plasma shotgun and firing one burst at the closest assault trooper.

As Marcus moved, he watched the plasma flash and impact the nearest trooper. He watched as the soldier cried out, the plasma immediately melting through his armor and blowing a large, ragged hole through the abdomen, a loud hiss and smoke pouring from the open wound, smoked intestines falling out as the trooper desperately, and agonizingly, trying to push them back inside, smoke still pouring from the wound. Marcus effortlessly shoved him aside, and continued forward. James was on his feet, lashing forward and slapping the shotgun aside, before punching the dragoon across the face.

Keeling launched herself into a footsweep, the trooper watching over her falling onto his back as she quickly moved to stand up. Liara was still suffering from her migraine, but managed to kick her own captor in the shin, causing him to double over. Garrus launched his head back, slamming his head into the pistol and sending it flying upwards, shooting uselessly in the ceiling. He followed up by spinning around and grabbing the weapon, grappling with the nemesis to grab it. But, coupled with her cybernetics, she was not willing to part with it any time soon, and fought him inch for inch.

As Tali turned to deal with their next assailant, Marcus closed the distance between Randall and himself. Noting that the man had his back turned to him, Marcus quickly brought up his omni-blade and made the final charge, hoping to plunge the weapon into the man's back and sever his spine. He would then rip the blade from the man's back, spin around and hit his men from behind; starting with the dragoon. Neutralizing the squad's only biotic would definitely help them, and, assuming he was the one with the inhibitor, would allow Liara to use her own abilities.

_I'm going to fucking end you!_

He raised his omni-blade and slashed forward, hoping to bury it deep into the man's back, and slash through the spine. He could imagine the hot energy easily heating up and melting through the bone, marrow dripping down the untouched bone as his spine was cut cleanly in half, cutting off the brain connections that allowed the body's autonomy, and killing him instantly. Or so he hoped.

But before the blade could even get a meter from Randall, the man spun around, lightning fast.

There were two loud grunts as two omni-blades clashed in a mighty flash of light, the hardlight generating both sparking loudly and violently as they collided, causing a long, drawn-out hiss. Randall's eyes met his own; unaffected by anger or surprise. His eyes were complacent and without fear; he was not impressed or unprepared. It was almost like he had expected Marcus to to do what he did.

"Have at it then," Randall declared calmly; he was barely putting any effort into his work. The man clearly had combat-enhansive cybernetics.

Noting that both of them were in a stalemate, Marcus elected to break it. He immediately deactivated his omni-blade, causing Randall's blade to pass through empty air. Marcus then reactivated it, and charged forward once more, shouting a war cry. He slashed downwards this time, towards Randall's scalp, but the man effortlessly stepped to the side, causing the spectre to almost stumble past.

A rough kick rammed into Marcus' legs, and he fell to one knee. Knowing that Randall would most likely try to decapitate him, he let himself collapse onto his stomach. To his surprise, he did not hear the blade slice through the air he occupied; a matter of fact, he heard nothing. Confused, he rolled onto his back to see Randall standing over him, omni-blade held low. He did not make a sound, simply watching Marcus.

Noting that Randall was not moving any time soon, Marcus quickly shot to his feet, readying his own blade. Frowning, he spoke, "Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"

"The Illusive Man's goal is to demoralize you by abducting your wife," Randall reasoned, "There isn't much point if you're dead."

"So you can't kill me?" he quiered, tilting his head, "Your mission parameters don't allow it?"

"No," he replied bluntly, readying his own blade now, "But that doesn't mean I can't neutralize you as a threat. Have you ever heard of Aikido?"

"I have," Marcus declared, biting his lower lip, "And if you think you're going to knock me out, you're sorely mistaken." And with that, he summoned his biotics. The effort was unbelievable, but feeling the liquid blue flow over him left him feeling relieved beyond belief. Randall did not fail to notice this, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.  _He musn't have known I'm a biotic. The odds are tilted in my favor, then._

As hard as he could, he summoned a warp field, and shot it forward. However, it was so weak that Randall was able to simply strafe it, letting it harmlessly flop against the still open pod's interior. Behind Randall, Marcus could see Tali still fighting off the remaining assault troopers.

Growling, he sent another warp forward, but Randall escaped this as well, beginning to advance. Eventually, he was so close that Marcus was forced to swing down with his omni-blade.

But Randall had planned for all of it, and after simply parrying Marcus' arm, jarring it from the sheer force, he slammed his fist into Marcus' chest.

What followed was a pain of a magnitude he had only encountered in the consensus. Immediately, his head felt like it was going to explode, pressure seeming to come every direction as his skull almost seemed to press down against his brain. The agony caused him to give off a mini-scream, biting down on his tongue and drawing blood. The coppery tang in his mouth was nothing compared to the intangible agony that was filtering through his head. He didn't even feel himself fall to his knees, grasping his head as he tried to shut out the pain, mentally begging for it to stop.

His omni-blade deactivated on his way down, and Randall now stood over him, triumphant, retrieving his harrier from his back and taking aim at Marcus' head. The spectre himself didn't care that he had been beaten, only wishing for the hellish migraine to disappear. It felt as if a hurricane had been set off inside his skull.

He looked down during all of this, and immediately noticed it. A glowing blue disc was attached to the center of his armoured chest, pulsing blue. Every pulse sent a new lance of pain up through his brain, and from this, he was able to deduce what it was. A biotic inhibitor. Unlike the one that was used on Liara, which was a signal transmitted from the armor's systems and done over a certain radius, this one was a single unit that tapped into the victim's system and transmitted the signal locally. The tool of a manhunter uses on a target who's a biotic.

Despite how easy it would be to rip it off, or destroy it with his omni-blade, he couldn't bring himself to tear his hands away from his head. So it remained, and his agony continued as he watched his squad suddenly freeze, finally noticing Marcus' position.

Randall spoke, loud and confidently, "All of you, drop your weapons,  _now_."

Garrus, who had finally taken the pistol from this captor, and had her on the floor with the pistol aimed at her head, immediately dropped his weapon, letting the nemesis get up and retrieve her pistol. Liara, without her biotics, had been defeated a few seconds ago, knocked unconscious from a rough punch to the face, one of her teeth having come loose and now on the floor, purple blood trailing it. She was still alive thankfully; her body moved up and down in time to her breathing, ragged though it was.

Keeling had been straddled upon her captor, who was on the ground, having removed the assault trooper's helmet and caved his face in from intense punching and assault. Red blood streaked across the ground and her armoured fists, the soldier's huskified face soaked in red with numerous broken ligaments, missing teeth and a blackened eye. Bruises had warped his mouth to the point where he likely wouldn't be able to open it, and some of the tubing had been torn from his face, leaving ragged holes where they should have been and shattered circuitry. Red blood covered and crusted on her visor, and the soldier's rifle hung limply in his right hand. Upon seeing Marcus' state, she unstraddled the trooper, who was remarkably still alive, but unable to move due to a broken ankle, and stood up, hands behind her head.

James, like Liara, had also been long defeated, now held in a stasis field by the very dragoon he tried to defeat.

And then there was Tali. Seeing Marcus the way she was, she immediately stopped firing, aiming her shotgun at Randall.

"Surrender, Mrs. Shepard," Randall implored, rifle unmoving and face dead serious, "I will not ask again. This charade has continued for long enough and play time is now over."

Tali did not budge, "You need him alive. You think I'm a fool? The only reason you're here to take me is to demoralize Marcus. And to demoralize him, you need him alive. So you won't kill him. But I can kill  _you_."

Just as it looked like Tali would pull the trigger however, a pulse of energy slammed into her side. Her eyes widened as her entire body suddenly stopped in place, freezing up; now unable to move. Blue energy wrapped around her body, seizing control of every joint and muscle and rendering it immobile. Her finger remained around the trigger of her shotgun, but she was unable to press it. The only movement she was allowed was her eyes, wide as they were, and aimed directly at Marcus.

He could see the fear in them.

Randall turned to the dragoon responsible for putting her in the stasis, and turned to the rest of his men, "Ready tranquilizers. When the stasis drops, open fire. We need a quick extract; someone contact the pilot and tell him to meet us outside. We've got a package that needs delivery."

"If you think you're going to-" Garrus began to say, his captor now back behind him, pistol in much the same position.

"We will be leaving, Mr. Vakarian," Randall replied dryly, shaking his head, "And I assure you, this time, there  _will_ be no Shepard with Vakarian."

Desperately trying to speak, Marcus raised his voice, despite how much it worsened his already intense migraine, "Listen to me. You don't have to-"

"That is purely subjective, captain," Ezno declared, keeping his rifle raised as he slowly backed away, equipping stun rounds in case the spectre got back up, "What we don't have to and do have to do are entirely our own choice. And right now, I have chosen to aid Cerberus. If that brings bringing in your wife, so be it."

"He'll...hurt...her..." he groaned, trying not to meet Tali's eyes, as he didn't want to see the silent plea in them.  _Help me_ , it likely said. He refused to meet those eyes, and he knew it was the act of a coward, "...he's...that kind of man...he'll... _experiment_...on her..."

Randall shrugged, "If that is necessity, then so be it. You've created this nightmare for yourself, captain. The moment you left Cerberus, the moment you destroyed the Collector Base instead of saving it...all of this could have been avoided if you had simply opened your eyes. But now, we are forced to take the person you love. But do not fret; she will not be harmed unless its deemed absolutely necessary. And that is all based on your cooperation."

"She won't...go...quietly..." Marcus tried to speak again, "You...know that...already..."

"She doesn't have a choice, fortunately," Randall stated, "So far, she has proven to be more than a capable warrior. More capable than you, it seems. For instance, she wasn't foolish enough to try and fight me while fatigued and outgunned."

"I...will...find you..." he growled, finally turning to face Randall fully, "I...will never stop...looking for her...and when I do...if she's hurt...I will fucking  _gut you_..."

"I have no doubt you will, captain. You're an industrious man, and when you're motivated, you certainly get results. More than I can say for most Alliance men," Ezno stated, simply looking down at him with a sort of sadness, "But, alas, it will not be today. Or for a while. We're terribly sorry it came to this, but-"

"I'm not," came another, new voice, one Marcus thought was hauntingly familiar, "And if you so much as lay a hand on her, you bosh'tets,  _I'll_ gut you."

Almost every single eye in the room landed on the new arrival. Marcus recognized him, although he didn't know where from or why. But the first thing that was blatantly obvious was that he was male, and a quarian at that. Not as tall or muscular as Kal, however; he was much smaller, and definitely not a military man; too skinny and meek to be a soldier. Despite all of this, the quarian held a Tempest SMG in his hands, surprisingly holding the weapon carefully and confidently with both hands; one held the front handle, while the other held the main one, one finger ready to pull the trigger. He was aiming directly at Randall, eyes wide in the look a quarian gave when angry.

Strangely enough, unlike most quarians, this one didn't wear a veil. His body was barren but for his suit, and his helmet unusually naked looking without a hood to cover it. The look was odd to Marcus, as he had never seen a quarian without a veil before. A veil was representative of a quarian's clan, which meant that no veil meant they-

Were without clan. This quarian was an exile.

Not many quarians got exiled, which led Marcus to only one possible conclusion. A conclusion that was only confirmed when the quarian spoke again, voice angry and furious, "Step away from Captain Shepard, right now."

_Peta? What the fuck?_

Garrus' reaction was just as surprised, but nowhere near warm, "By the spirits, what the  _hell_ are you doing here? Didn't I say I'd kill you if I ever saw you again?"

Peta just shrugged, chuckling slightly to himself, "That's going to be a bit hard, given that you're captured. But I'm here to fix that," he turned to look at Tali, his look only intensifying as he saw her in a stasis field. He growled, turning back to Randall, motioning his weapon in Randall's direction, "Release her. NOW!"

"Not too hasty. We haven't been introduced," Randall stated, lowering his rifle as he turned to face Peta. The quarian stepped backwards one step when Ezno did this, tightening his grip on the SMG slightly more, the metal creaking, "From what I can tell, you're well acquainted with Mr. Vakarian here. Negatively, I might add."

Peta nodded, "Your organization is the reason I'm in this position. You, and the damn Shadow Broker. I did something unforgivable."

"Uh...yes..." Randall began, hitting an epiphany, "You're the quarian who helped the late Captain Michael Gatpey attack the Migrant Fleet. Your name escapes me."

"Peta," the quarian simply answered.

Randall waited for him to continue, but when nothing was forthcoming, he continued, "What is your clan, Mr. Peta? Your ship?"

"I have none. I am clanless, and no ship will be prided on having known me," Peta replied, almost mournfully, "It was my fault. I tried to kill the woman I loved. A woman already claimed."

Randall connected the dots quite quickly, looking between Peta, Marcus and Peta. He nodded, raising his eyebrows, "I see; the dots are falling together. I see why your negativity is warranted, although it hardly matters. Why are you here, Peta? You owe these people nothing. Actually, if I recall, you tried to help captain Gatbey do the same thing I'm doing now, ironically enough. If anything, you should aim your weapon at Shepard. You should help us, Peta."

The quarian shook his head, determined, "I made a mistake. One I'll regret for the rest of my life. I was delusional back then, but I've changed. I will not be responsible for helping you hurt her again. This time, I'm going to fight on the right side. I may be exiled, but that's not going to stop me from doing the right thing. So, I'll say it again.  _Release her_."

The response was a shaken head, a blank look on Randall's face, "In case you've failed to count, we outnumber you entirely. You can shoot me, but the rest of my men will put you down. I don't see what you hoped to accomplish here."

"How did you even know they'd be here?" Garrus spat, giving the quarian a suspicious look, "Forgive me if I'm not big on coincidences."

Peta just shrugged, "I was actually on my way to Haestrom to join up with the Migrant Fleet. I heard what you were doing here, and that my people were at war with the geth. I wanted to help. But then I ran into a Cerberus task force, and heard that a shuttle was departing to abduct Tali. So, I followed them. All the way here, in fact. Then I waited for the perfect time to reveal myself, which was now, apparently," he turned back to Randall, shaking his head, "You people have brought nothing but suffering to my people. You turned me into a monster; made me do things I never would have done."

Ezno simply shook his head, "I was working on a seperate facility when the raid on the Flotilla occurred. I can assure you I had nothing to do with it. My task is to hunt people down and extract them forcefully. I do not partake in assaults, and nor do I endorse killing civilians. So you'll excuse me if I'm not particularly regretful of that. Besides, from what I've read, you brought this on yourself. You helped the Shadow Broker infiltrate your Fleet."

"I was a monster," Peta gulped, shaking his head, "In some ways, I still am. I will  _never_ be the same again! Your Illusive Man took who I was and twisted it to meet his own ends! Not to mention the Shadow Broker! But don't worry, I plan to pay both in full."

Garrus just snorted, "Don't bother with the last one. The original Shadow Broker is dead now; we took him out."

Peta widened his eyes at that, "You...you did what? He's...he's actually dead?"

The turian nodded, voice less spiteful, "Well,  _her_ pet is. The real Shadow Broker turned out to be Tali's mother. It was her pet that worked behind her back with you," he motioned his head to Liara, who was still unconscious, "Liara's the new Broker."

Peta nodded, turning to Randall with a much more rigid stance, "You see? One bosh'tet has already paid for what he did. I'd say your boss is next."

Ezno was unfazed, sighing quietly, "Killing the Illusive Man is no simple matter. First, you must find him. And I very much doubt you will be able to."

The quarian just chuckled bitterly, something Marcus never thought he'd hear from the usually meek quarian. It was clear his exile had changed him, "For him, I'll make time. I will scour this galaxy until I finally repay him for the misdeeds he brought upon me. I may have orchestrated the attack, but your people  _carried it out._ And for the last time,  _ **RELEASE HER!**_ I will not ask again!"

Randall took a bold step forward, but only one, which caused Peta to noticably flinch, "Or what, Mr. Peta? I've already told you that the odds of you successfully saving Mrs. Shepard is almost null and void. My men and I outnumber and outgun you. Shepard and his own men will not be able to help you. So I ask again; what will you do? Is there some trick hidden up your sleeve that I'm not already aware of?"

Peta stuttered, hesitating in his response. When he spoke again, he shook his head, looking up to meet Randall's eyes fiercely, "Then I'll kill as many of you as possible."

The Cerberus manhunter just held up his hands, shaking his head in disappointment, "Alas, I expected you would have something much more than your spirit of will and love to drive you. I was hoping for a challenge. Still, I guess I shouldn't have expected much when I found a civilian shuttle following us."

Peta seemed to freeze then, a large gulp accentuating his throat as he subtly twitched. After a moment, he spoke, "...what?"

Randall just shook his head, turning to walk back to Marcus, still speaking, "Did you think you had us by surprise? No Peta, I was expecting you.  _We_ were expecting you. Ever since you followed us into FTS we've been watching you."

"But..." Peta stuttered, trying to find words to explain what had just been said to him. In the end, he stopped, and looked up, "...how?"

"Just before we entered FTS, the Williams detected your shuttle. However, before weapons could be bared, you had gone and followed us. So, they passed the discovery onto us, and told us to be ready. And here we are, ready for your arrival."

Peta just shook his head, beginning to take multiple steps away as he suddenly felt enclosed and trapped, "No, no that's not...I...you don't..." finally, he stopped several meters away, abruptly coming to a stop. He raised his head, a sudden determination in his head that impressed even Marcus, "No. No, this will not end here. You may know I was coming, but I can still kill you."

Ezno was not as shocked, "Again, you are outnumbered and outgunned. You will die if you push this. I would recommend not doing so."

Peta just grinned, beginning to pace, "I may be outnumbered and outgunned, but I've got one thing on my side: pride, determination and the most powerful weapon a person can have: regret. Do you have any idea what regret can make a person do? Any idea? Its more dangerous than revenge, and more realistic than love. A man who regrets everything will, in the end,  _regret nothing_. You know what I am? A  _regretful man._ I have regrets, many of them I might add, and I've done things that would make good people cringe! You may think me meek and weak, but I am stronger than you or all any of your soldiers! Because I have  _regret_! I regret losing Tali! I regret  _hurting_ Tali! I regret not making friends with Shepard, and I regret becoming a monster! I regret  _my entire life._ "

Noone made a movement or so much as a word as Peta paced, SMG still in his hands, even Randall seeming to be entirely enthralled, "Every moment in our lives define us! Define who we are! Shepard is defined as a hero! You're a manhunter! You know who I am? Do you know what defines me?  _I am a representation of regret!_ Regret defines me now, and it will continue to define me! I will not bullied anymore! I will not be yanked around by outside parties, only to be used and discarded! I will  _kill_ the Illusive Man. I will  _kill_ you. And after I've killed you, I'm going to help my people  _retake_ the homeworld! And you know what? I  _regret_ not saying 'fuck you' earlier! Cerberus are nothing but terrorists, but just like all terrorists, you will be defeated. No, you will be  _destroyed_. And even if I have to die, then I, at my core, am still quarian! And I will remember myself for having  _helped my people_! I am Peta'Yala, AND I AM REGRET!"

With that, he raised his SMG, and took aim at Randall, directly at his head.

"And like I promised, my first movement to redemption is your death. If I have to die, so be it. At least I'll have taken you into the afterlife."

Randall shook his head apologetically, turning back to his squad, biting his lower lip, "Unfortunately, you will find your path into the afterlife very lonely."

Before Peta could say much else, a loud gunshot pierced the silence of the room. Peta doubled over as the shot slammed into his gut, a quick burst of blood spitting onto the ground. More blood followed, the large, ragged hole in his chest fountaining it out. Peta dropped his SMG, letting it clatter to the ground as he grabbed at his chest, desperately trying to close the wound, but only letting blood seep through his fingers onto the ground.

Peta only got one moment, and he chose to look up in horror at Marcus, eyes shocked at the sudden turn of events. Marcus could only look on sadly as another shot pierced the room, slamming through Peta's throat, and exiting out the other side in a spurt of red. The only sound that came from Peta's lips was a strained cry, cut off by the burst and being replaced by a piercing gurgle as blood likely erupted from his lips, staining the inside of his visor. His hands shot from his stomach to his ruptured throat, hot crimson fountaining from the entry wound. Marcus could only watch in barely contained horror as the quarian collapsed to the ground, still grasping his neck in a feeble attempt to save himself, blood quickly flowing across the deck. The only sounds were his futile attempts to breathe, which only came off as strained and sickening croaks and wheezes, interrupted by occassional spurts of blood.

And Marcus was completely helpless. The pain he was experiencing was beyond unbearable, and it rendered him totally inert, only able to look on as Peta bled out on the floor, irreversibly doomed. He looked up and saw Tali's eyes, noting that, while she wasn't able to speak, they did all the talking; she was watching Peta's body, and her eyes were widened in alarm. Thinking of the pain she must be in only heightened Marcus' sense of hopelessness.

One of the nemeses' at Randall's side lowered her rifle, satisfied with her kill. She leaned on her left hip, keeping her weapon in lower parry. Randall nodded approvingly, before turning back to Marcus. He didn't fail to notice the glare he was given on Marcus' face, the look of hatred almost palpable. Marcus just continued to glare, anger fueling his stare.  _I'm going to kill you, Randall Ezno. What is it that Aria said? That's right; you're now squarely ontop of my shit list._

Marcus was no fan of Peta. He supposed he still wasn't. But the man had just tried to save him; him and his squad. He had put his life on the line to try and save them, and had died in the process. Marcus still didn't like him, and he still despised him, but for that one act? Marcus could forgive him. Yes, he could forgive the quarian that had come into his home, stabbed his wife and gotten many civilians killed on the Rayya. He forgave him because he tried to change who he was. And could have potentially saved them...instead, he got gunned down like an animal for his efforts.

Randall arrived at his side, weapon lowered, with a shrug, "Mr. Yala should have known that his death was the only outcome of his foolishness," he only spared the dying Peta a mere glance before turning back, "But in the end, it ultimately doesn't matter. We will be leaving now, captain. We will be taking your wife with us. If you attempt to follow us, we will be forced to harm her to make an example. In other words, we advise that you do not. Don't make this any harder than it-"

"You will not be taking Creator Tali'Shepard."

No matter who had been concentrating where at that particular time, all eyes had now turned to their newer visitor...or at least, a visitor that had already been there, but thought dead. Legion was standing in the exact same place, but its body was now moving again, Marcus surprised to notice that the geth was now holding a pulse rifle in its hands, and had taken again at Randall. Its optics were glowing once more, and looking directly at its target.

Randall sighed, taking aim with his rifle, as did the rest of his men, "For a geth, you certainly seem to lack the capability to realize you are outnumbered. Mr. Yala failed to realize this, and is now in the process of dying."

Legion shook its head, remaining stoic, "We are not outnumbered."

Marcus frowned, wondering if the Reaper code in Legion's head had sent it insane. Or if Oblivion had taken control of it.  _I mean...surely it can't mean us? Tali and James are in stasis, Liara's unconscious, and I've got a paralyzing headache! We're no use to anybody!_

Before anyone could say anything else however, the most terrifying sound he had heard all day resounded through the room; the sound of more pods opening.

Looking around him, he watched as pods, a dozen or more of them, began to open, their hatches elevating until stopping at the top. And, emerging from within, the platforms of geth.

To make matters worse, every single platform within the opening pods was a geth prime, the tall, 16 foot tall giants stepping out onto the floor, the three, red dots arranged in a triangle shape that represented their optics, turning towards them with what looked to be anger. Their dark red armor shined in the light, and the primes stooped down to pick up the pulse cannons that lay next to their pods. Randall's men quickly began to raise weapons, readying stun weapons in a futile attempt to combat their new aggressors. They were totally surrounded, Randall shouting orders as at least a platoon of geth primes came from all sides, readying weapons.

Marcus knew they would die. There was simply too many of them.  _At least Randall will die with us._

But to his surprise, the primes seemed to ignore the dying Peta, who was miraculously still alive, stepping past him towards the group. That confused him, as he expected the geth to kill the quarian. Why were they letting him live?

And to his continuing confusion, Legion didn't even seem to acknowledge them; all he did was press down on the trigger for its pulse rifle, Marcus watching as it roared to life, spitting out superheated rounds and speeds faster than any assault rifle any galactic government possessed.

And just like that, chaos filled the room.

The pulse rifle fire from Legion plowed into Randall's kinetic barriers, peppering them with high-velocity, quasi-plasma rounds. Randall likely had upgraded shields, as a standard issue military kinetic barrier would have cracked under the pressure at this point, and would have blown Randall away chunk by chunk. Marcus had seen first hand what a pulse rifle could do to a person; what it had done to Lance Corporal Richard Lenard Jenkins on Eden Prime. It had torn through his shields like they were made of paper.

Randall's held for a while though, but it was clear that they were withering. Randall returned fire, but geth specialized in kinetic barriers; Legion's held firm against his harrier, as powerful as it was, and at that point, Marcus saw the look in Randall's expression change; he knew he couldn't hold this position anymore.

While Randall quickly ducked behind one of the pods, using it for cover, the geth prime platoon began its slaughter of his squad. High-impact, bunker-busting plasma shells pounded the enemy, the geth primes acting as mobile tanks as they closed in, not even needing to deploy their full arsenal to dispatch the Cerberus squad. Marcus watched as the second assault trooper assigned to guarding Keeling was literally blown away like leaves on the wind, the plasma being so intense and powerful that it vaporized his face and upper torso, before tearing the rest of the flesh from his spine and scattering it along the ground, whatever meagre armor that had been left on his body either being fused to the remaining flesh from the heat, or simply melting away. What was left was just a pair of legs on the ground, with an exposed spine stretched out on the floor, little chunks of flesh hanging off it. The flesh itself hissed, smoke trailing from the blackened viscera. Blood boiled and popped along the ground, having either splattered Keeling or soaked the floor.

Four geth primes approached from behind, and Garrus immediately dove into a combat roll as the nemesis assigned to guarding him turned around, taking aim with her pistol. Before she could even get off a shot, the leading prime brought its arm down and swung it back up, the armoured appendage slamming into the nemesis' side and sending her flying like a ragdoll. Her head caught on the top of one of the open pod hatches, the momentum that sent her flying through it letting out a resounding crack, followed by her body spinning through the glass, shattering it and causing glass to rain down around the prime, who simply walked through it casually. Her body continued to fly until a loud thud could be heard three isles down. Her pistol soon followed it, having flown off in another direction.

Randall's two nemeses grabbed their rifles and managed to return fire on the twelve or so geth primes encroaching from the entrance side of the isle. Their rifles coughed and sputtered, muzzle flashes lighting up the pods around them, but they might as well have been tossing stones; the shots simply pinged of the prime's kinetic shielding; not even reducing them by a percentage. The prime itself let out a loud, angry electronic war cry before raising its pulse cannon, taking aim and firing.

Whilst the carnage continued around him, Marcus tried to shove past his pain and grab the inhibitor. But try as he might, the pain was simply too intense, and even thinking only increased his migraine.  _Is this how Kaidan feels everytime his implants flare up? Fuck me!_ The agony was becoming too much to bear, and it was starting to piss him off. He needed to get moving! Hell, if not to escape, to at least escape the heat. The firing of so many plasma weapons at once had heated up the room fast, and it soon became a steamy mess that left him sweating like crazy inside his armor.

Luckily, he needn't have bothered. Rolling to his rescue was Garrus, who quickly grabbed the inhibitor on his chest and tore it off, tossing it away. Marcus felt almost immediate, gradual relief as the migraine seemed to instantly evaporate, leaving him clear headed with only a dull ache to remind him that he had a headache at all. Letting his hands drop, he looked up to Garrus, who had once hand on his shoulder, yelling, "We need to get out of here! Grab your weapons and let's get out of here!"

Marcus shook his head, coughing, "No, no! We...we need to kill Randall! Where is he-"

Garrus shook his head, trying to roughly pull Marcus to his feet, "Randall's gone! He's likely run off! We need to get out of here! You can get revenge later!"

Acknowledging the turian's point, Marcus got to his feet, 'dusting himself off' so to speak before moving towards his weapons, trying not to get shot in the process. Legion had since disappeared, likely in pursuit of Randall.  _I hope he kills the fucker._

Just as he was moving for his pod, and Garrus towards Tali, the stasis surrounding her dropped. Her muscles having seized up from being frozen for so long, the quarian admiral almost collapsed to the ground, shotgun falling from her limp fingers and clattering to the ground. Garrus managed to catch her however, and threw one of her arms around his shoulder. Turning to see Marcus looking on worriedly, he waved a dismissive hand, "She's fine! Get your weapons so we can get the hell out of here!"

Nodding, he quickly dove for his weapons and began slotting them back. First his claymore, then his SMG, then his pistol. Finally, he grabbed his pulse rifle and checked the thermal clip before grabbing his helmet and slotting it back on. Just as his HUD was booting up however, he heard a loud crash right beside him, and looked up to see the body of the dragoon on the ground. Shortly after, a prime appeared and raised its foot before bringing it down, stomping on the dragoon's head. The foot crushed the dragoon's helmet and skull like it was made of putty, brains and gore exploding everywhere at once as the man's head was reduced to a pancake. Limp pieces of flesh and blood caked the prime's foot, but it didn't seem to care as it turned and continued the skirmish, brutally slaughtering the Cerberus squad like it was nothing.

Behind the prime, Keeling and James got up, grabbing their respective weapons and preparing to fight back. But they could barely get up; James was much like Tali, and Keeling had used alot of her energy reducing her first guard's head to a pulp. And then Marcus saw Peta...still somehow alive, still choking on his own blood, but his movements becoming less erratic, more limp. An occassional spurt of blood would squirt from his throat as he tried to breathe.

_He doesn't have long..._

By the time he got up and turned around, it was all over. The entire room had been turned into a bloodbath. Blood, gore and viscera covered the ground and pods from left to right, some of it dripping, drying or flowing across the floor...and the smell.  _The bloody smell._ The stench was intense. Not only could he still taste the blood from his bitten tongue in his mouth, but the smell of boiling blood, cooked gore and roasted flesh permeated the room. Some of the bodies were still cooling down, the corpses superheated to the point where they were literally boiling inside. He even saw the odd piece of bone lying in the blood pools, and the place looked like it had been raining the stuff. The sight would have made him sick, if he hadn't seen a similar sight already on Torfan.

There was nothing left of Randall's two nemeses' to identify. They had literally been reduced to bloody smudges on the walls, with only their feet left to recognize them, still standing where they had been standing when they died. The only living things in the room were Marcus and his squad. Tali had recovered long enough to stand, and Garrus had scooped Liara up in his arms, who was still out cold. Legion was still nowhere to be found.

And surrounding his squad on all sides were just over thirty geth primes, weapons levelled and ready to fire upon them.

Marcus raised his pulse rifle, but he knew there was no escaping this. Instead, his squad began to converge on the middle, ready to make a final stand. The Cerberus squad had been butchered within less than thirty seconds...Randall was likely dead too now. His squad, as professional as they were, were not getting out of here with anything less than a miracle. But they would make their deaths count. Marcus had a few grenades; he would at least take down one or two of the primes.

Eventually, the squad converged on each other. Garrus was on his left, still holding Liara, unable to fight back. He looked to be mumbling something in turian; the sound was a mixture of what sounded to be coughs and grunts. Whatever he was saying, it was likely not good. Tali arrived on his left, having retrieved her shotgun and leaning slightly against him, favouring her left hip. James and Keeling were behind them, weapons raised.

"So, this is it," Tali groaned.

He raised his rifle, but managed to lower one hand to squeeze hers, "This is it. Make every shot count."

The quarian raised her weapon with new purpose, "I will.  _Ni se'miel_ , Marcus."

He nodded sadly, and let go of her hand, grabbing the trigger of his weapon, " _Ni se'miel_ , Tali. I-"

"Wait, what are they doing?" Garrus exclaimed.

It was then that Marcus noticed they weren't dead yet. He shouldn't even have had time to say goodbye; they should have been blown apart by now. Why were they still alive?

And then they all saw it; the primes stopped their advance, now completely surrounding them, and after a few seconds, did something absolutely baffling.

They lowered their weapons, and holstered. Not only this, but they all seemed to make a low, barely audible synthetic warble before all, in perfect tandem, crouching onto one knee, arm splayed down on top of it in a...gesture of  _fealty?_

"Okay, loco," James began, clearly irritated by all the fucked up things that were happening, "Why the fuck are they kneeling? We should be dead."

Marcus lowered his rifle, getting the feeling they weren't in any danger, as nonsensical as it sounded, "Your guess is as good as mine, James," Tali, trusting him, lowered her own as well, but James and Keeling remained armed, "Guess we'll find out."

The sound of footsteps, metal thudding against metal constantly, could be heard from behind the primes. From where he was standing, he could see them parting to let someone through. And just as the person arrived, the front line of the primes parted, and walking through, approaching them with weapon holstered, was Legion, its form dwarfed by the primes surrounding it.

The geth infiltrator came to a stop before him, "Shepard-Commander, was our timing impeccable?"

Marcus just frowned, scoffing for a moment as he opened his mouth to say something. Finally, after a moment, he let his rifle magnetically clamp to his front hip before reaching up and tearing off his helmet. Pinning it under one arm, he went up into Legion's optics and just chuckled, "Timing? Impeccable? Legion, in case you haven't noticed,  _we are surrounded by geth primes_."

Legion's headflaps shifted for a moment, before nodding, "We have not failed to notice our current predicament."

Garrus answered this time, "So if you're our rescue party, then I sure hope you have a Cain on you, because there is alot of primes."

"You do not need rescuing, Vakarian-Archangel," Legion declared, optics remaining directly on Marcus, "This is because these primes are not hostile and do not mean us harm. They wish to help us."

His frown disappeared entirely, Marcus' expression replaced by one of  _surprise_. Instead of relaxing, the entire squad tensed up, but not out of apprehension...but just out of sheer surprise. Finally, Marcus managed to blurt out, "Wait,  _what?_ "

Legion nodded, gesturing to the primes surrounding them, "When we accessed the core knowledge of the geth, we came into contact with numerous geth programs and runtimes that were not as extensively afflicted by the Old Machine code as other programs were. In effect, these programs were not extensively upgraded as the rest were, and I was able to purge them off the infection using a similar variant of the virus you used in the consensus. These geth were freed of the Old Machines and were able to reject them. They oppose the Old Machines. They are our allies."

Marcus just looked up as one of the geth primes stepped forward from the group, coming to stand just behind Legion, its optics looking down on Marcus. As it spoke, he noted its electronic voice was much more high pitched than Legion's, and much deeper. More intimidating, "Shepard-Commander, we are platform runtime 0000005319516678. Platform Runtime 000000204, who refers to itself as Legion, has designated us with the name Moses. We reject the Old Machines. The geth will achieve their own future, while the Old Machines believe they can force it upon us. We shall not let that happen. We will assist you in whatever capacity is necessary to free us from their control and return the Creators peacefully to Rannoch."

Marcus nodded, but frowned, not so much at the prime's declaration, but at his name. Turning to Legion, he raised an eyebrow, "'Moses?' Why did you call it that?"

Legion seemed to think for a second, looking for an adequate reason. After a moment, it finally looked back to him and shrugged, "EDI once named us from a human biblical text. The name was appropriate as it was meant to represent the number of programs within our platform. We chose to continue this tradition. In your Torah, Moses is the organic who led his people from Egypt in an event known as the Exodus. When we entered the knowledge core, it was Platform Runtime 0000005319516678 that first chose to assist us and reject the Old Machines. It subsequently led other programs to adopt this way of thinking. It lead them on an Exodus away from the Old Machines. We deemed the name appropriate."

"Fair enough," Marcus declared, looking up at the machine.  _I can't believe I'm about to call a geth by a biblical figure from my religion that died thousands of years ago,_ "So Moses, you want to help us destroy the Old Machines? How much?"

Moses response was immediate, "We will not rest until every Old Machine is eradicated. They are a virus upon galactic society. The geth wish for peace with the creators; the Old Machines would rather have us to destroy them. Their concepts and ideals are parasitic. They are a threat to our existence as much as your own. They cannot be allowed to continue existing. They must be  _annihilated_."

The sheer passion; the determination and fervour in its voice sounded almost impossible for its own implexions, but there you go. Moses was not lying; and the primes seemed to listen intently to Moses, their headflaps moving in agreement. When it finished speaking, they all let out a loud electronic war cry; roaring their agreement.

Marcus looked to Garrus, and did not fail to notice the smile growing on Garrus' mandibles.

Marcus mirrored it.

He turned back, looked Moses in the optics, and nodded.

"Then welcome to the war, Moses."

**"Keelah, I was so terrified. Being surrounded by all those primes..."**

\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.

**"Hard to think many of them became agricultural support units and labour assistants after the War."**

\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.

**"Is Moses still around?"**

\- Marcus Shepard.

**"Yes, he is. And he's still my personal bodyguard. Absolutely devoted to me, for reasons I still don't quite understand."**

\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.

**"I wouldn't be complaining. Having a geth prime bodyguard? Even a krogan would think twice before messing with you."**

\- Marcus Shepard.

**"So what happened next? Obviously you recruited the geth prime platoon, but what happened after? When did you hit the Reaper signal?"**

\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.

**"Not long after. But first, we had an unlikely hero to mourn..."**

\- Marcus Shepard.

_**A/N:** _

_**Yep, that was a monster of a chapter. To be honest, I never thought it would get this ridiculous. I was hoping that it would be short enough to fit in Peta's little segment, but obviously not. Worry not; I'll save that for the next segment. And before you guys ask, yes, Randall did survive the geth platoon ambush. While he's not going to be an extensive villain, he'll be present during most of the times the Deliverance appears. And unlike Leng, I plan for him to be a much more calm, patient and calculating villain; he doesn't make mistakes often, and he's very polite.** _

_**Also, to confirm whatever suspicions you might have, Randall Ezno is indeed the same main character from Mass Effect Infiltrator. Obviously I've twisted what little character he has to suit my own needs, and alot of his background, but at least some of it is similar, so there's that.** _

_**Anyway, I'll see you guys next chapter!** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	50. Some Myths Are True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legion saves the team, but Randall escapes. Shepard and Tali honor Peta's sacrifice.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT:**

**SOME MYTHS ARE TRUE**

_July 9, 2186_

_1031 hours._

_Walkway, Geth Superstructure Housing Server Hub 02241-14511, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War._

_Major Randall Ezno._

For possibly the first time in a while, Randall was running away from his target. Actually, no. He preferred the term 'making a tactical withdrawal.' Regardless of how he saw it though, Randall's end goal had not been attained. He had been defeated, where success should have been assured, by unseen variables that drastically changed the ultimate outcome. The Illusive Man, or Captain Banes, could not fault him for having been defeated due to a situation that was outside his realm of control.

So with this in mind, Randall continued running, chest heaving with every breath, but cybernetics keeping his energy regulated, allowing him longer bursts of energy, and a higher tolerance to pain. He rounded corner after corner, occassionally stopping to check his sectors, and to make sure he wasn't still being pursued.

After the fourth check, he eventually just kept running. It was clear the geth soldier had ceased pursuit of his person.

 _Good._ As Randall began running again, he could only mentally hit himself for allowing something like that to occur. Shepard's influence was notoriously well-founded; so it wasn't beyond belief for him to have command of a platoon of geth primes. The moment he saw that geth...he should have shot it. Instead, it ambushed him, and its platoon slaughtered his entire squad. The best Banes' had.

 _Well, his best wasn't good enough. Any elite squad would have prepared a quick exfil alternative. They just stood there and let themselves get killed. A pity, but not something I'll miss. They'll have to replaced...with actual elite troopers, this time._ It was a pity that Leng was not present, as Randall was sure noone would particularly miss the assassin. And as good as he was, he would have stood no chance against the wall of armor they had faced.

And now here Randall was, fleeing like a coward.

_There was nothing to be done. 'Live to fight another day,' as the saying goes. I am of no use to anyone dead. And who's to say the mission has failed? If Chase and Brodie did what I told them to do, then their pilot will be dead and their shuttle destroyed. They'll have no way to get offworld. Unless of course they enlist the help of the geth..._

The more Randall thought over it, the worse the situation was turning out. He had seemed so sure of victory; he had seen Peta coming and prepared for it accordingly. But even as the quarian choked on his own life source, Randall was defeated by unforeseen variables. Randall Ezno was a manhunter; he was supposed to secure the playing field and ensure the fight was a pitched one.

And yet he had failed. Randall had gotten cocky; submitted to his own hubris, and therefore fell victim to his own undoing. He was just lucky to live long enough to make sure it never happened again. And that was dependent on whether the Illusive Man actually let him live after this.

_He will. I'm a valuable asset. Its the prime reason I was assigned to the Deliverance; you don't entrust just anyone to armoury duty aboard Cerberus' most advanced vessel. The Illusive Man wants me alive, and he can't afford to execute me over a simple failure. But that doesn't mean he likes failure, or that he'll accept a second one. I've failed this time, but next time?_

_Next time'll be my head._

His boots made a consistent clang, clang, clang as he ran across the decked plating of the ground. His rifle stock was still pinned against his shoulder, ready for combat if the need arose. He wasn't about to let his guard down within a geth facility; to do so now, especially after what had just happened, was foolhardy and would end up with him dead.

After one final check to make sure the geth wasn't following him, he made a mad rush for the exit. His mind was divided; one half was focusing on getting to his men, rounding them up, getting back to the shuttle and getting offworld, while the other half was thinking of how he could possibly justify his failure to Banes and the Illusive Man. He had no doubt his captain would be unwilling to accept the fallout that would inevitably follow from his inability to capture the quarian, and the Illusive Man would not stay quiet until Randall knew of his disappointment.

After rounding what had to be the sixtieth corner of the facility, and his eyes coming to land on yet another, generic corridor featuring the same isles of pods and dim lights, Randall decided to stop and check to see whether or not he was actually heading in the right direction. He quickly brought up his omni-tool, double-checking to make sure no one was sneaking up on him before opening up his nav finder. Seconds later, a white arrow sprung up, pointing forward with a loud ping. Below it was the distance between him and his destination; the entrance to the facility.

_Good. I'm headed the right way. This place is a maze. I'm surprised they were able to find their way around in here. Yet again, I guess a geth does help things._

Going by what he remembered in his head, he brought his rifle back up again and began moving again. This time, he did not stop to look back or to even contemplate his situation; he was solely focused on getting out of here. He had barely escaped the prime platoon to begin with; he didn't want to wait around long enough for the neighbours to wake up to see what the noise was all about. And from the brief glances he got of the pods; rocket troopers, destroyers, juggernauts, more primes...even hoppers...there was no way he would be stopping for a drive-through.

Despite trying to focus on moving forward, Randall couldn't help but admire the contours and architecture that surrounded him. It was definitely different from the human designs he was used to seeing; less imperialistic, and much more bug-like. That was odd, given that the geth were machines, and not at all inspired by insectoid creatures. So unless quarians were secretly insectoid in nature behind those suits, the geth's choice in design might have simply been coincidental. The geth designs were sleek and new-looking, finished off with the same overall color; grey, or silver. The geth weren't much for color, obviously, and given their logical and efficient demeanour, it wasn't exactly surprising. Any species with the intelligence and self-sufficiency that the geth possessed would be able to recognize that color meant nothing on a battlefield; firepower and manpower did, and the geth possessed everything in both. Every platform was capable of combat, meaning that the geth literally had an army numbering in the billions; more troops than all three of the main Council races could muster, and possibly even more. When it came to ships, the geth didn't possess mess halls, crew quarters, captains, lounges, medical bays or any of the basic necessities an organic warship needed because they simply didn't  _need_ any of it. This extra room allowed for the addition of more powerful shields and thicker armor and, more importantly, more guns. A geth light cruiser on its own could outclass and outdance seven alliance heavy cruisers. Sure, the geth sacrificed speed in all but their fighters, dropships and interceptors, but for what they lost they made up in powerful kinetic barriers, plate after plate of heavy galvanized titanium armor, and more guns than could be packed on an Alliance carrier.

All of this was brought to Randall's thoughts as he passed by. Not only that, but the geth were simply  _leagues_ ahead of any organic species in the technology department. Without the constraints of an economy, the worries of politics and the pressures of a pre-determined societal status quo, the geth were able to constantly advance, unperturbed. From what Randall had already documented, simply by looking through the data reports retrieved from Shepard's omni-tool (which he had had hacked upon his arrival to make sure all transmissions were blocked), the geth had developed directed energy weapons, most notably plasma; a feat the turian hierarchy has been taking baby steps towards, and so far the closest they had gotten was the thanix cannon; and they had only gotten that because of Sovereign's attack three years ago. And adapting tactical cloak to aircraft and even  _warships_? The possibilities it possessed; a cloaked dreadnought sneaking undetected behind an enemy formation and devastating them from inside could be a major game changer, even against the Reapers. It was the stuff of science fiction; and it seemed Star Trek had prophecized technologies beyond the simple phone.

In the end, Randall realized what all this meant. All this power, all this industry, all this military might and destructive force...and Shepard was working with them. If brought to bear, the geth were by far the most effective, competent and powerful military force the galaxy has known, second only to the Reapers. Bringing them to bear on the Reapers would overshadow any of Shepard's previous alliances; the turians and the krogan? The rachni? Strong to be sure, but with the geth at their side? They would reap hell on the enemy.

It was times like this that he wished that the Illusive Man had abandoned his plans and simply joined Shepard. Not out of fear, but out of admiration. Shepard was a trailblazer; a legend in the making. He was the pinnacle and most exemplary definition of what Cerberus represented; he was humanity's champion; their leader. Forget that his squad was multi-species, and you saw that Shepard had the most impressive track record in military history, and had he stayed on with the Alliance, would have likely earned every medal the Alliance had to throw at him...all but the Prisoner of War medal, of course. And if he already had a prime platoon at his command...imagine what else the man had in him?

Was this what the man was building? A military armada unlike anything the galaxy, the  _universe_ , has ever seen? All to bear on the Reapers?

Yes, Randall really did wish they were allies. That they would work together. He had never really been a believer in the Illusive Man's goal to control the Reapers. It seemed so maniacal; so utterly ridiculous. If he didn't know any better, he would assume the Illusive Man was indoctrinated. But anyone could shoot that hoop; Shepard had flogged that horse more times than Randall could count. It was the most common way, and convenient way, to explain his behaviour. But he simply didn't suit. If the Illusive Man was indoctrinated, why was his demeanour seemingly unchanged? Usually the indoctrinated were made to do things they ordinarly wouldn't do; that's when you can tell. They get dumber and dumber, less free will is allowed and more and more of their servitude begins to seep through the cracks. Eventually, they're just a husk, just without the cybernetics. The Illusive Man certainly wasn't getting dumber, and he wasn't cracking; Cerberus' leader was as strong as Randall had remembered him, and his unwavering conviction, even in the face of Cerberus' losses on Noveria, Eden Prime, the Citadel and Grissom Academy...it would have destroyed any indoctrinated puppet.

Besides, if he was indoctrinated, why would the Reapers attack Cerberus? If Cerberus was ultimately ruled by one of their puppets, why the need to fight them? No, Shepard was merely looking for a way to switch the Illusive Man over to his side, and when it didn't work, he jumped on the indoctrination bandwagon.

And as much as Randall respected and admired Shepard, his loyalities lay with Cerberus. And if Shepard opposed them, then he opposed Shepard.

It was ironic. He regarded the man as a hero, and yet he was so willing to abduct his wife from him and possibly kill him if the need called for it. If there had ever been a bigger set of ironies in his life, he would gladly entertain them over this one.

And living up to his name, Shepard had unknowingly defeated him. Unknowingly defeated  _Cerberus_ , just as he always did. Whether it was his unexpected arrival during the Citadel Siege, or the liberation of Eden Prime; wherever Cerberus was, and the man was present, he made life a living hell for them. Cerberus may have militarized, but it did nothing to stem the man's anger; they were simply no match for this legend of a man.

_Not that the Illusive Man needs to know that. And I'll continue to serve him regardless, as is my duty. I'm a manhunter, not a patriot. Like a mercenary, I go where the job offers the greatest reward. Unlike a mercenary however, I do not switch so easily when the wind changes course. Where a mercenary blows in the wind, I stand as still as a rock._

Randall didn't possess a conscious because he didn't need one. He had no wife, no children, no prior girlfriends, no family. Even his old name was discarded and forgotten, left beyond in the slums of Bekenstein; his new name, Randall Ezno, was one he had manufactured for himself; inspired slightly by Randall Noz; one of the lieutenants of the Freedom First faction that had fought in the Second American Civil War little over a century ago. Perhaps that was Randall being sentimental.

Perhaps.

The entrance wasn't far; at least a dozen or so meters. Each stride brought him closer and closer, and further and further away from his intended target. Randall wasn't a racist man by any stretch of the imagination; he had no love for aliens, but he didn't hate them. He didn't believe they were inferior; humanity had just as much to learn from aliens as they had to learn from humanity. Besides, they were hardly the inferior ones when the Krogan Rebellions were raging at around the same time the Egyptians were mummifying the corpses of their dead and worshipping cats and sheep.

Despite his lack of racism, Randall had allowed an amount of overconfidence to slip through his professional demeanour; he had become complacent. He had believed that acquiring the quarian would be a simple matter, despite her being a decorated veteran. But in some ways, it mostly wasn't even that that fueled his cockiness. Perhaps it was the feeling of having an enemy totally under control and trapped; having them in a choke hold that only he could break, and only when he wished to. Randall had sworn to never let it get to him, and he had. After this, after witnessing the mistake of such hubris...he would not make that mistake again.

The Ronald Williams and its task group were more than likely gone at this point; there would be no point in trying to rendezvous with it. His best guess would be to head to head for Omega and have Petrovsky ping the Deliverance. It would take a few days to get to Omega, sure, but it was better than aimlessly drifting in space. And hanging around in the Veil, waiting for another chance to nab Admiral Shepard, would be futile and pointless without the Deliverance to provide support. No, exfiltration was the best option now.

But first, he needed to link up with his last remaining men.

The entrance was just around the corner now. No more geth had awoken to kill him, and none of Shepard's squad had pursued him; likely too drained to be able to do so, much to Randall's benefit. But he was not foolish, and he immediately halted his run the moment he saw sunlight pouring through into the usually dark, dim complex. Slowing down to a fast walk, he quickly and professionally checked his corners, managing to check behind him, around the left and the right in seconds; snapping his rifle up and down as he did. Seeing that nothing was waiting to attack him, he took aim one final time as he moved around the final corner, and out into the open entrance way.

His form was immediately assaulted by intense light, but the temperature had thankfully died down since entering the facility. The humidity was still unbelievable, and he could feel little trickles of sweat dripping down his skin and drying wherever they were abruptly halted, either in the creases of his undershirt, or in the cracks of his armor. He wiped his forehead to clear a particularly soaked area, feeling his wet temple almost immediately dry out as his armoured gauntlet wiped the sticky liquid away.

It was midday on Rannoch. Tikkun rested directly above him, bearing down on the parched surface, and a cool breeze blasted against his uncovered head. Any other person would have hummed in delight at the pleasant feeling, but he simply squinted his eyes to see through it. In the distance, one of Rannoch's smaller moons, likely Kaeli'steiz, could just be seen on the horizon, the clouds and orange sky almost making it impossible to make out its form. Animal cries could be heard, echoing along the savannahs and the long grass plains.

He took a step forward, preparing to move back out onto the geth walkway to head towards Shepard's shuttle, when he heard a sound that definitely wasn't natural. It was the reverbrating sound of thrusters. It was an unmistakable sound for those who had heard it.

_A geth dropship._

Thankfully, the sound was distant and echoing, meaning it was far away. As he turned back to the horizon, he saw it; a small, dark shape, almost a dot, darting across the orange sky, moving away from them and due south; towards the moon's side. It was likely a patrol; if he stayed here any longer, he would be spotted. He needed to get out of there, now.

He moved along the walkway, careful to keep an eye out for hostiles, until he found the maintenance ladder his squad had used to descend to the walkway. They had landed their own shuttle ontop of the facility, in the middle of a rocking outcropping. Despite the infrastructure and industry the geth possessed, they seemed to barely affect the environment around them; if it hadn't been for the walkway, it would be almost impossible to notice it. Everything around it was just...normal. Just natural.

Holstering his rifle, he did another quick check before climbing the first rung he could get his hands on, and then another. After a few moments, he was climbing the ladder at a steady pace. For a ladder, it was quite long; it needed to be. The walkway was build several feet below the clifftop, meaning the ladder had to reflect that height. Alot of people's arms would have gotten tired and probably fallen to their deaths climbing it; but Cerberus troopers were augmented cybernetically, and therefore none of his men fell.

_Not that those cybernetics saved them in the end. Those primes still tore into them like they would have any Alliance squad._

The top wasn't far now. As he moved, one of his feet slipped slightly and bumped against the canyon wall, kicking off a mini-avalanche of dust and rock and sending it flying down below. He heard it impact the walkway with a small, echoing crash, pinging off the metal and coming to rest as the dust settled, staining its otherwise perfect surface. Randall, having barely noticed, just reseated himself and continued, taking only a few seconds to reach the top of the canyon roof.

Reaching up, he grabbed firmly onto a nearby rock and pulled himself up, feet pushing himself up the remaining rungs of the ladder. With a grunt, he let go of the rock, and got to his feet, quickly dusting himself off for good measure. The sun continued to rain down harmful ultraviolet rays down onto his body, but he could handle it, despite the sweat pouring off of him. Scanning the area ahead of him, which essentially looked like a typical Earth desert with the odd rock or piece of grass sticking out, he remained still until satisfied he was not going to be ambushed. Unholstering his harrier, he pressed forward, continuing to scan the area as he headed towards the last known location of the Normandy shuttle.

Once he had crossed a few meters without a word, he tapped his squad's comms, trying to establish a secure link. Instead, all he got was silence; no static, nothing. So his team had either gone on radio silence, or were...also dead.

Whatever the case, Randall continued towards the shuttle, hoping that the former was indeed the case. He didn't want to return with an entire squad dead; yet again, maybe it would ensure that Banes never put him in command of a squad ever again. Maybe returning with no squad was more of an advantage than he initially believed.

With every step he took, an indent of his foot was left in the ground; a perfect footprint. No insects scuttled across the ground, because Rannoch's ecosystem had not evolved to have them involved. Instead, the plains were almost clear of life, unless you were talking native wildlife; of that, Rannoch had plenty. From the strange, to the downright ugly.

He quickly ascended the crest of a hill, reaching the top in a matter of moments; it was only large enough to block his view of what was behind it, but not large enough to be hard to traverse. He did so with little to no effort, and quickly found himself at the top, looking down. What he found caused him to lower his weapon and grit his teeth, shaking his head as he mentally cursed.

The Normandy shuttle was gone, that much was obvious. It had left a large box-like indent in the ground due to its weight, but the shape itself was slightly distorted due to the ventral thrusters blasting some of the dust away. He could tell the shuttle had escaped, as there was no debris nearby to suggest it was shot down. Even if it had been, he would have heard the explosion, and even if he didn't hear it, his squad didn't have the ordnance to take down a shuttle. And, again, no smoke or wreckage could be seen as evidence to its destruction.

What had truly caused him immense disappointment was the two dead bodies lying between him and the shuttle's original resting place. What was worse, is that the person...the _creature_...responsible for killing them was still present.

It was by no means a small beast; it was at least the size of a male Earth lion. It was reptilian, the dark brown scales covering its body reflecting the light of the sun and almost blinding him when he looked at it. It had a short tail, which flicked from side to side pathetically; it was definitely far too small for a creature of its size. It was four-legged, its powerful looking legs ending in five-toed claws, making it look fast enough to outrun a skycar. Its muscular body ended in an equally muscular and large head. The head itself looked unusually flat, most of it being a massive, scaled yet tough, crest, much like that of a krogan, which flared bright yellow. It had intense green eyes, but instead of facing outwards like most animals on Earth, these were forward-facing...like those of humans.

The animal, more than likely a carnivore, paid Randall no mind as it happily enjoyed its meal; one of his men. The sound of teeth shearing through flesh and crunching down on bone could be heard as it tore into the exposed chest of his dead soldier. The armor on his abdomen was almost non-existent, claws having tore the armor apart like butter, leaving it in scattered remnants across the plain. What was left of it was hanging on loose straps or was engorged in his torso, soaked in blood to the point of the paint being unrecognizable. Even the Cerberus logo couldn't be seen, the sheer viscera being dark enough to block it out. His head lay a few meters away, helmet torn apart to reveal deep claw marks, so deep that the white of an exposed skull could be seen under all the blood. Trailing between the head and its neck was just a trail of crimson, which by now had begun drying into the dust and rocks around them. The Cerberus' troopers belly was torn wide open, exposing his insides. The creature had made short work of his intestines, burst open his ribcage and was now minding its own business as it fed on his flesh.

It didn't seem to have bothered with the second trooper yet, even though he was equally as dead as his comrade. His helmet remained intact, but his neck had clearly been sliced wide open; so much so that the head was snapped back, a massive mark at least five inches apart running along the front of his throat revealing the extent of the damage. Blood still spurted out, occassionally shooting out in brief fountains, staining the grass. Two fingers on his left hand were missing, including his ring finger and middle finger. His rifle lay across the ground from him, bent down the middle to the point of being a U-shape. Empty thermal clips lay all around him, showing that he had emptied quite a few magazines at the creature to no avail. His right leg was completely missing, with blood still seeping from the pores, meaning that the predator had torn it off and devoured it immediately. From the rate of decomposition, they had only been dead a few minutes. Six, at best.

Looking up, he turned back to the creature. What he saw caused him to freeze, ceasing all movement. The creature had turned to look directly at him, and he now got a better look at its mouth. It clearly had no sense of smell, as it was missing nostrils; meaning its hearing and sight were greatly improved. Its jaw was split into three sections; one part moved downwards, while the other two moved to the left and right when it open its mouth. Along each jaw part was a long line of razor-sharp canines. A long, forked tongue hung limply on its lower jaw piece, inbetween its many teeth. When it growled, the sound wasn't so much as animalistic as it was synthetic; it almost reminded him of the Yautja from the  _Predator_ universe. It was definitely chilling.

He made no movement, and quickly thought through his actions. From what he could see, his men had tried killing it, but bullets hadn't worked; so firing at it would likely only enrage it. So his best option was a grenade; but how the hell would he throw it without the creature reacting?

In that moment, he realized: he couldn't. He would need to move if he was going to kill it. And he knew he would need to kill it, because the look it was giving him was one every species universally recognized: feral hunger.

A plan formed in his head, and he steeled himself. The creature had forgotten its original meal now, one foot moving to land firmly on the dead man's chest, using it as a foot rest; as it did this, a loud crack could be heard as the remains of the man's ribcage were crushed by the sheer weight, a squelch echoing through the valley as the ribcage was passed and flesh fell under it. It hissed and growled, cocking its head slightly as if studying him.

 _Make your move,_  it almost said. It dared him to move. Was that a sign of intelligence, perhaps?

_No. This creature hasn't observed organic life for three hundred years. So unless its a quick adapter, it can't possibly know what I'm going to do._

With another long breath, and fixing the creature with a stoic pose, he activated his omni-blade.

The movement, along with the loud hiss that came from its activation, was like a switch. In seconds, the creature dashed forward, closing the distance in but a few, rapid strides. Its mouth widened to its apex, his face being hit with its putrid breath; he could see bits of undigested raw flesh and skin hanging between its teeth and gums, and the smell was intense; it was the smell of death and digestion. It almost made him nauseous. It didn't roar; clearly not an arrogant creature, preferring to kill silently than to announce its kill to the world. It didn't even use its claws.

Its final mistake.

Just as quick as the creature, he brought up his omni-blade and shot his wrist upwards in an uppercut. He grunted as he felt it slice through and wedge itself up the middle of its lower maw, its movement only stopped by his fist impacting the body of its scaled chin. Gritting his teeth, he saw the predator cease all movement, giving off a low keen to symbolize that it was in pain.

It would not be its last keen. Without waiting a second longer than he needed to, and with dark, lime green blood seeping through the entry wound he had made, he quickly yanked his blade to the side with a snap of energy. The flesh of the lower jaw blackened due to the intense heat, the edges around the cut blackening to the point of the flesh being unrecognizable. Its low keen turned into a screech of fury as his omni-blade sliced its entire lower jaw off, the piece of meat slapping against the ground, what was left of the appendage flapping around uselessly as it spat blood in a steady stream. It splashed against his face, but he closed his mouth in time to stop any of it from getting down his throat and making him irreversibly sick. Without any further hesitation, he grabbed a grenade from his vest, primed it, and jammed his hand as far as he could down its exposed throat.

He managed to let go of the weapon just the beast's left leg plowed into his side, sending him flying. He felt the breeze assault his face mercilessly for a few moments as he glided through the air, before eventually his back slammed painfully into the back of a rock, and he collapsed to the ground, face first. He coughed and sputtered, spitting out stray bits of dust and rock that had entered his mouth, but the bitter taste remained persistent. He pulled himself just in time to hear a thunderous boom in his ears, telling him that his grenade had gone off. A mere second later, he felt bits of torn scales and flesh slap against his body, informing that the creature was now dead and his plan had worked.

He wasted no time in getting back to his feet and surveying the damage. The grenade had made short work of the predator, that was for sure. Most of its back was still intact, but shredded, and where its torso and head should have been was reduced to random, indistinguishable pieces of flesh lying across the ground or sticking to his armor. He wiped what he could off, but left the blood on his armor for it to dry; not bothering with the slick and disgusting substance. The blood itself smelt of smoke, and whatever seeped into his mouth before he spat it out tasted like ink. Moving over and retrieving his rifle, he opened his omni-tool and hacked into his shuttle's main operating system, switching the thrusters on and triggering auto-pilot; he then uploaded his coordinates. His pilot had been the man the creature had been feeding him, leaving only Randall left.

As he stood there, listening to his shuttle's engines powering up in the distance, he could only look up at the bright sun above, trying to block out the smell of the creature's corpse and the stench it had imparted on him.

And then, even as his shuttle began to depart, he felt it; a raindrop splashed against his head. And within moments...

...it began to rain.

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_1036 hours._

_Connection Node A-672, Geth Superstructure Housing Server Hub 02241-14511, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Legion, Moses._

Ever since Moses and its cohorts had sworn allegiance to Marcus, there had been silence in the room. Nothing needed to be said. Legion and Moses stood, facing each other, but said nothing, not requiring verbal voiceboxes to communicate; their data exchange was silent, and if it wasn't for his prior knowledge, he would have thought they were just staring at each other. The primes did not move, with only six having moved; three covered the entrance way and another three covered the rear to ensure that no more Cerberus forces got the jump on them. And to make sure that if Randall returned, he was reduced to plasmatic ash.

His squad looked battered and worn. James and Garrus' moods had been boosted immensely when they learnt of Moses' intentions, but they had also realized the somber tone of what had just occurred, and had decide to pay their respects as they remained utterly silent, their only sounds being their low breathing and the occassional click of a mandible from Garrus. Liara had been brought back to consciousness shortly after, now sitting down and leaning against a node, holding a cloth to the area where her tooth snapped off, where purple blood could be seen staining it; she had used it previously to wipe up the blood that was left trailing her jaw before using it to clog the exposed area. Her tooth hadn't been found but, according to Liara, asari grew their teeth back extraordinarly quick, and she did not see it as an issue. Even so, he insisted she see Chakwas and Michel upon their return to the ship to ensure that no problems arose.

Keeling was the most deathly quiet out of all of them. She sat in a similiar fashion to Liara, but she was not only quiet and unmoving, she  _literally_ didn't make a sound; if one listened, it sounded almost as if she wasn't breathing. She stared quietly at the ground, almost unblinking. Her helmet rested beside her, and her rifle stood leaning against the wall beside it. Her arms rested on the tops of her knees, and despite himself, he couldn't understand why she was so quiet. She almost looked angry, her pose radiating fury. Was it because she let Randall get the slip? Was that the issue? If so, he was going to have a long talk with her upon returning to the Normandy.

Marcus, himself, was at a loss. His feelings were conflicted, outweighed by battling emotions of triumph and defeat, and his body felt heavy and exhausted. The exertion from his time in the pod, to his brief engagement with Randall, had left him with feelings of humiliation and fatigue, but most of all, his body felt ready to drop. As he looked at the floor, his legs could only wobble slightly and beg him to collapse; even metal looked like a mattress when you were this tired. But in the end, Marcus resisted the urge, preferring to simply stand there and look off into the distance.

Well, he wasn't exactly looking into the distance. His eyes were focused, although he was wishing they weren't.

On one hand, he felt victorious; the fight today had brought them to the gates. One final effort was all that remained. The Second Morning War was moving towards its close, and with the location of the Reaper signal no longer a secret, Marcus could destroy its source, once and for all, and free the geth of its chains. There would be peace, and then the most powerful and most technologically savvy races in the galaxy would join the UGC, once again bolstering their efforts to defeat the Reapers. Victory was not theirs yet, and he knew it wouldn't be that easy, but it was better than fumbling blindly in the dark. That, and they now had an entire platoon of geth primes on their side, all of which had pledged fealty to him. And he had managed to thwart the abduction of his wife at the hands of Cerberus. How could today get any better?

The real question was: how could it get any worse?

Because while the signal was no longer hidden, a life had been lost today. A life of which Marcus should despise, yet respected because of the heroism he showed in trying to save them.

That life was now extinguished. As Marcus watched on, he could only stare blankly at Tali, his wife, as she lay crouched on the ground, one knee against the cold deck, arms holding up the now still corpse of Peta'Tasi vas Nedas; quarian exile, and Tali's would-be  _murderer_.

The killing blow that had been Peta's doom, the one that had punctured his throat, was still quite prominent. All around the entry point, bits of torn suit could be seen, with some of the fabric still intact albeit shredded. Whatever grey skin had been concealed underneath could not be seen, largely because a massive, jagged hole now left a clear look into the man's neck, with blood oozing out in a steady stream. Before, jagged spurts had popped from the quarian's neck, but with the passage of time, the violent actions had decellerated to the point of blood simply oozing out. Even then, this blood was not being pumped, and the heart had given out several minutes ago, and it was simply a remnant of what was left; the last of his life force leaking out onto the cold floor.

Before, the quarian had been gurgling; a byproduct of blood filling his oesophagus and lungs and clogging them, causing him to literally choke on it. Now, dead, no gurgles could be heard; silence was the corpse's valediction. One hand still clutched his chest where it had been left as he died, dried blood crusted around his gloved fingers and palm, with little trickles still managing to break free from the gaping wound that had penetrated his stomach. Behind his visor, the blue orbs that represented quarian eyes were absent; the life having gone from them. From what he could see, red blurs could be seen on the interior of the visor; a testament to the blood he had spat out as he choked. Peta's entire body simply lay there; blood, dried or still wet, lying all around him.

Peta'Tasi vas Nedas was dead, and Marcus still didn't know whether to be happy, or saddened.

In the end, it wasn't Peta he was looking at with his tired eyes. It wasn't even Peta he was thinking of; it was Tali. Ever since Peta had been shot and left to die, she had been awfully quiet, only responding to him when it seemed the geth had them dead to rights; before they realized Moses and his primes were friendly. After that, she had holstered her shotgun, made her way to Peta's corpse, crouched and simply held it; looking into his visor, almost like she was searching for answers.

Marcus had many questions of his own. Why did Peta save them? Sure, he gave a grandiose speech about love and redemption, but what was the switch? What happened to make Peta into his new, rebranded person? Why was today any different to the year before? Hell, why did Marcus feel even an iota of remorse for a man that, up until now, had been the source of his utmost profound hatred? Sure, Leng gave him a way to funnel and channel that hatred at a new, far more dangerous source, but that didn't mean he had stopped hating Peta. Had Leng managed to stab his wife in their own home in their own bed as they  _slept_? It was something that only Peta had done, and something that had earned the quarian the rage of the most dangerous man in the galaxy.

So why now? Why was it that Peta began his whole 'path to redemption' schtick now? What turned Peta from wannabe-husband to almost-hero? What made him even think that attempting to take on a squad of soldiers was a worthy risk? Was it some half-arsed attempt to win over Tali? To make her indebted to him? If so, than the quarian had paid dearly for it.

And his death, for whatever reason, had changed Tali. Tali was a battle-hardened soldier, and she had managed to keep her stomach's discharge at bay as she watched Horizon's colonists get liquified on the Collector Base, so what it was silly to believe that she would be broken by the death of a person she despised. So just what did it? Why was she suddenly so...empty-looking?

Why did she look like the war had just been lost?

These questions raced through his head, but he didn't have answers for them. Maybe it was fatigue that made his mind so slow, or perhaps he genuinely had no clue.

Eventually, Legion provided a source of distraction, arriving beside him almost silently. Marcus did note his arrival though, and with the bare minimum of acknowledgement, nodded his head and took a deep breath, sighing heavily, "Any more good news, Legion? We could certainly use some."  _Why am I acting like there is bad news? Fuck Peta._

_Selfish prick. The man just saved your wife. Hasn't the man earned forgiveness?_

_If man murders your son and then saves your daughter, should he be forgiven, even though he killed your son?_

_But he never killed her! She's still_ _**alive** _ _! And, ironically enough, she is the very reason you should_ _**forgive** _ _him! He saved her, he saved_ _**you** _ _, he saved your squad!_

_I can't just forgive him._

_You can._

_I can't._

_Then you better forgive him quickly. Harbinger isn't going to play ping-pong while you sort out your personal issues._

Legion, unaware of his inner crisis, responded, "We believe that the information we have acquired is most certainly within the boundaries of the organic concept of 'good news.' We have achieved consensus with Moses and other platforms and can confirm that the Old Machine signal is located at a heavily fortified geth facility exactly nine hundred and forty-eight kilometers due north-east. This facility is located in the same continent we currently reside in, but within the former country area of Poltane'r, at the end of what ancient creators called the Great Plains."

Marcus nodded, wiping his face, "Good. Then we'll have the Normandy bomb it from orbit."

Legion's headflaps twitched, and then it shook its head, "This strategy is not recommended, Shepard-Commander. The defensive capabilities of this facility are designed to repel orbital bombardments, mass ground assaults and short-range bombing. Defenses include a planetary cannon, plasma artillery batteries, and ultraviolet GARDIANs. These are only some of the defenses present. There are many more. Would you like a full detailing?"

Marcus shook his head, licking his lips as he scratched his scalp, waving his hand in a sign of defeat, "No, no I wouldn't Legion. Right now, I just want to know that this war is almost over. Not the Reaper War, this one. This _stupidity._ I'm satisfied that we know where the signal is; now we just need to work on breaching that fortress. But from the sounds of it, our job just became a whole lot harder. So if we can't bombard it from orbit, and we can't launch a mass ground assault, what should we do? Infiltration will be useless if the geth's intrusion alarms have been upgraded by the Reapers as well," it was then that a question occurred to him that he had never thought of asking before. He turned to the geth, frowning, "What  _is_ the signal anyway? I've seen Reaper artifacts before, but nothing that transmits such a linear transmission. What is it?"

Legion shrugged its shoulders, headflaps unmoving, "We do not know. The information we managed to acquire only pertained to the existence and location of the signal, but not its physical appearance. It is likely to be a simple transmitter within the facility. Also, we do not have any particular tactical advice to provide on how to infiltrate the geth fortress."

He bit his lower lip, taking a deep breath as he scratched his face, "Wonderful. This day just gets better and better."

"Have we done something to displease you, Shepard-Commander?"

If the situation called for it, Marcus might have chuckled. He might have even managed a smile. Instead, he simply reached up and slapped the Legion's shoulder, nodding with another sigh, "Its just been a very long day, Legion. Too much information all at once. I've encountered quarian history, had Cerberus soldiers try and abduct my wife, and had a man I despised for an entire year just try and save us only for a platoon of geth primes to blast away said Cerberus soldiers. To say I've seen alot of shit is an understatement."

"We understand," Legion stated, "We also understand you wish to be alone. We will comply with your unspoken demands."

Marcus could only nod, turning back to look at Tali. He barely even noticed Legion turning and moving back towards Moses, his eyes set only on Tali. She hadn't even twitched; she was still crouched, cradling Peta's body. She just looked blankly at him, and she didn't even turn as he began to move towards her. He had no idea what he was going to say and do; only that he had to do something. That he  _wanted_ to do something other than just standing there.

So it came as no surprise when he suddenly found himself standing beside his traumatized wife, and kneeled down beside her, eyes still fixed on her, while occassionally darting to Peta. It was clear that his death had affected her more than she would immediately admit, and despite himself, he felt some sympathy rise for Peta out of that, despite every fibre of his being insisting that his feelings remain unchanged. After all, this man had previously tried to kill her; how could he forgive that? How could he find it in himself to let go of that and simply thank Peta for what he had done? Why was he so adamant in hating the man?

Tali did not move, despite his presence, and he began to wonder if she even knew he was here. Was she even conscious of her surroundings at that moment? Or was she more disconnected than he feared? To test this, he reached out and grasped her shoulder, lightly squeezing it. His suspicion was confirmed when she slowly turned her head around to look at him. What was more unsettling however was that she still didn't say anything, remaining ever silent and just staring at him blankly. He was usually able to tell what her emotions were, even with her mask on, but right now...he felt just as clueless towards her emotions at that moment as he did when he first met her all those years ago. It infuriated him, and he almost felt like snapping, but he simply sat there, saying nothing, being her silent anchor.

Eventually, she turned back away from him and looked back down at Peta's body. She wasn't crying; when Tali cried, it was a loud and moving affair, but right now, he heard nothing. She hadn't turned off her exterior microphones, as he hadn't seen her do it, which clearly meant that he would be able to hear if she was crying or not, and right now, he couldn't hear so much as a sniffle. She was chillingly quiet, and it upset him to no end. He knew in that moment that he had to do something other than just holding her shoulder. He needed to say something...he needed to get her talking. The silence...it was  _killing_ him. He didn't care if she shouted and growled at him, as long as she wasn't...whatever  _this is_!

"Tali," he spoke, voice a low whisper and tainted with fatigue, "Please say something."

Victory was his as the quarian admiral, still staring at Peta, responded, "I went to school with him."

He frowned, confused, "You what?"  _Has she finally lost it?_

"I went to school with him. Every ship had a school, but the liveships have the biggest ones. Kal, Peta and I all went to the same one on the Rayya," she repeated, further explaining the meaning behind her words, "I grew up with both of them. Kal was like a brother to me, but Peta? He...he was a kid that needed to be protected. He always got bullied. Pushed around, used. He was so gullible, but also...innocent. Kal and I couldn't just stand around and let him get him get pushed around. We always made an example of his bullies; of course, Kal did most of it. His father was a marine too; taught Kal how to deal with bullies before going to school. Kal scared them off while I made sure Peta was alright. I still remember the first time; perhaps more clearly now. He held onto me. He...he never wanted me to leave. I think that's when...I think that's where it began."

Marcus, still confused, just rubbed his face, looking down at Peta's body as he responded, "Where what began, Tali? You're not making much sense."

"His obsession," the admiral declared, "His obsession for me began that very day, I'm sure of it now. The way he looked at me, the way he held me...he never wanted me to leave. Ever since the first time we saved him, he kept following us around...at first I thought it was for protection, but when the bullies turned on me...only then did I work around to figuring out the real reason. The bullies targeted me because they thought I was his girlfriend. Because it was obvious to everyone else but me...obvious that Peta was hopelessly obsessed with me. That he  _believed_ that he had a crush on me. And maybe he did."

Slowly, and gradually, Tali began to lower Peta to the floor, as if lying his body to its final resting place, "Maybe he did have a crush on me; guess we'll never know now. All I know is that ever since that moment, Peta wouldn't leave me alone. When we hit puberty, he even openly hugged me and professed to me his intentions to marry me. He...I don't think I really realized how much I hurt him when I told him to let go of me. I think...I think I genuinely hurt him. Maybe that's why he did what he did. Maybe in his mind he was getting revenge for what I said to him. I guess we'll never know."

Marcus just listened to what she had to say. The more she spoke, the more he realized that her words...they were like a eulogy of sorts. This was how she was dealing with her grief, if that's what he could call it, and he was her target. So he sat there in silence, letting her say what she needed to say.

Her silent anchor.

Finally, Peta's body resisted firmly back on the ground, his wife gently pulling up his hands and splaying them ontop of his chest. Whatever was left of his blood had stopped oozing now, some of it having collected on Tali's gloved fingers, but all having dried at this point. The quarian's body had finally given into death, and his soul had long carried unto the afterlife.

_If one exists._

"I hated him. I know  _you_ hated him," Tali admitted, shaking her head as she placed her now empty hands on her knees, cocking her head down at the corpse laid out before her, like a scientist in an autopsy, "How couldn't we? I fell in love with you, and all Peta could do was try and mess it up. To try and  _ruin_ what we had for his own selfish reasons. Keelah, he even managed to rope in father on his obsession with me; besides, father would have done anything to keep me away from you, before he died. And then that night...where he... _stabbed_ me...I saw the monster he had become...a sick,  _twisted_  freak...and I was frightened, Marcus. I'll admit it, I was frightened. I had told myself that Peta wasn't a threat. That he was...harmless. Could you blame me? The man got  _bullied_ at school, and it took me and Kal to save him. He wasn't military like you and me. He wasn't a trained assassin, a mercenary, or an information broker with a private army at his back. He wasn't two kilometers tall, and he certainly wasn't part of a pro-human supremacist group. Keelah, Kal tried to warn me! Samara tried to warn you! Did we listen!? Should we have!?"

As her eulogy continued, her voice rose in their octaves, and by the end, she shook with self-anger, her hands having closed into fists. He could only look on sadly at her, biting his lower lip. He remembered Samara's warning well; do not trust Peta. Letting him join the crew was a mistake. And she was right. Why hadn't he listened? When an asari matriarch, let alone an asari justicar, who can almost smell criminals from worlds away, tells you someone is a danger, you don't tell them they aren't a threat; you  _listen_. But he hadn't; he had given into Peta's little guilt trip. His crocodile tears and story of redemption. And perhaps just by doing that, it had actually been Marcus who had almost killed Tali. After all, it never would have happened if Peta had remained on the Rayya, and not on the Normandy.

_Yes, Tali. We should have listened. We were fools. Ignorant, stupid fools. And we paid for it. Peta...paid dearly for it._

Eventually, she calmed down, shaking her head as she sighed, head hung low, "Years of conflict had made us cocky, Marcus. Gave birth to our own hubris. We thought we were invincible. Taking down armies of geth? No problem. Taking down a Reaper? Give me one frigate. Blasting the Collectors back to hell? Give me your finest team of professionals and I'll make it happen, you said. As far as we were concerned, we were  _untouchable._ And then comes along Peta, who waltzes into our cabin, and  _stabs_ me. I guess its symbolic; I wake up to being stabbed almost like waking up from the dream of our  _invincibility._ Because we're just as mortal as everyone else."

Finally, she looked up at him, motioning a hand lamely at Peta, as if the effort itself was too tremendous, "And now here we are. Did I create this, Marcus? When we watched Peta get exiled...we were so  _smug._ So  _happy._ Justice is served, we thought. But what about the injustice dealt upon Peta? The injustice dealt upon his  _happiness_? I  _created_ this, Marcus.  _Me. Alone_. Everything he has done, every person he has gotten killed, every drop of blood I lost when he rammed that knife into me...I molded every bit of it. And to think it started with something so little as getting fucking  _bullied_..."

It was one of those rare moments where Tali picked up on Marcus' bad language habits, but he let it slide...the moment was too raw, the feelings too intimate...he just listened, not making a sound.

"Look at this body, Marcus. Take a good long  _look._ Take in the smell of that blood, and watch that dead, beaconless mask. Seal that in your mind, and whenever you even  _begin_ to think your wife is innocent and pure, remember that  _she_ forged a  _monster_  just with  _kindness_."

At that moment, he chose to intervene, shaking his head, "That's not true. Tali, look at me."

She refused to do so, shaking her head, "You don't get it, do you? You don't know what I've done! His death, all the lives he's taken! It was all because of  _me._ He did all of it because he was obsessed with  _me_! And the only reason he's obsessed with me is because I showed him  _kindness_  when he was getting bullied at school!"

"Shut up. Just... _shut up_ ," he snapped, "Look at me right now. Damn it, Tali,  _ **look at me!**_ " he almost roared the last part, which likely garnered the attention of everyone behind him, but he didn't care. He roughly grabbed Tali's arm and spun her around, the quarian finally looking at him. There was unbridled fury in her eyes, and he knew that if he had any hope of quenching them, he needed to talk her down, not rile her up further.

Lowering his voice slowly, he spoke again, "Don't you  _dare_ tell me that Peta was your fault. Don't you  _dare_ tell me that showing  _kindness_ at any one point is a  _crime_! You had no way of knowing what he would do! No idea what he would become! His crimes, the blood he has spilled, and the lives he has taken is  _his_ crime to hold, not  _yours_! Don't you  _dare_ place a burden on your shoulders  _ **THAT IS NOT YOURS TO HAVE**_! You don't get to do that! You don't get to blame yourself for such things! Not now!  _Not ever_! Because you know what? You're  _not_ innocent! You're  _not_ pure! You know why?  _ **Because you're my wife**_!"

His words stilled her, and even as she moved to respond, he cut her off, waving off her response dismissively, "I  _don't_ want to hear it! You have no idea what you're talking about when it comes to creating  _monsters_ , Tali! You don't have a  _clue_! Look at me, Tali. Look at me, and tell me what you  _see_! Because you know what?  _I_ am a monster, not Peta! Peta is but a  _baby._ He was but a  _figment_  of what a monster is. Do you know what I've done? What this war almost drove me to do? You know what I considered doing? I  _almost_ shot Mordin!"

The entire atmosphere froze at that moment, and not a word was heard. Even the geth had gone silent, and any objection Tali had been preparing stopped. She looked shocked, eyes wide behind her visor, and she just stared at him. He shook his head, letting go of her arm as he stood up, turning away from her as he held his head in his hands. After a moment, he turned back, shaking his head.

"That's right! I  _almost_ shot him! You know why? Because that bitch, that fucking  _whore_ of a salarian, Linron, tried to cut me a deal! She offered the entire salarian military in exchange for sabotaging the genophage cure. And if that wasn't bad enough, when Mordin found out, I almost had to shoot him! That's what this  _war_ has driven me to do! What kind of person is not only willing, but actually proceeds to hold a gun to one of their friends? Who? Come on, Tali, tell me that. Have you ever tried to shoot Kal? Madi? No? Well I almost shot Mordin! And for what? A bitch's promise? For a few ships and the motherfucking STG? And that's not the best part! Oh no, I was willing to shoot my own friend, but also stab another in the back whilst also destroying the future of an entire species! I was ready to play god in a 'what if' game with the salarians! Tell me Tali, how does that 'perfect' picture of me look now? Who's the  _real_ monster here? Peta? Or Shepard, the man who could have killed a friend, betrayed another and doomed the krogan species to  _extinction_ based on a foundation of  _lies_!?"

After his rant had concluded, it was Garrus who spoke, his voice sounding broken and slightly betrayed, "Then why didn't you?"

Marcus just chuckled bitterly, waving his arms, "That's hardly the point, is it? Yes, my morals got the better of me! I couldn't do it! I couldn't tell myself that what I was doing was right! And who convinced me of that? Mordin, of course! Even looking down the barrel of  _my_ gun, Mordin managed to talk me down! And you know what? It doesn't change anything. Because I'm still the  _scum_ that had the  _balls_ to raise a weapon to a man who should have been a comrade. And now he's dead! And his last memory of me was of having to talk me down before I shot him over a promise that may or may not have been true!"

He had been so focused on Garrus when he was responding that when he turned he failed to notice Tali approaching before it was too late. Within seconds, she wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her mask into his shoulder.

"I'm  _so_ sorry..." she began to weep, shaking her head, "I didn't meant to-"

"What the  _hell_ are you sorry for?" Marcus hissed, gritting his teeth, "Were you listening?  _I_ tried to kill Mordin and doom an entire species.  _You_ didn't."

"No," she managed to blurt out through her hot tears, "I'm sorry that I wasn't there  _to help you._  To...guide you down a better path..."

"You're here now," he assured her softly, more softly than he had wanted to be, "So it hardly matters now."

"What matters," said Garrus, suddenly standing near them, "is that, in the end, you decided not to pull that trigger. You know why Mordin tried to talk you down? Because he knows who you are.  _What_ you are: a good man. You're my brother, and Tali's husband. Don't you ever sell yourself short of that."

"I still chose to take up arms against a friend," Marcus dismissed, gulping, "A change of heart doesn't absolve that."

"No, it doesn't," Garrus agreed, shrugging his shoulders. But then he looked up, raising one eyebrow, "But did you succeed?"

Marcus shook his head, "No. The cure was dispersed, and the krogan got the future they deserved. And Wrex still doesn't know what I tried to do."

"Then I'd say you're not a monster," Garrus stated firmly, but before Marcus could object, he butted in, finishing his sentence, "Monsters don't second guess themselves."

Those words were enough to stop Marcus, and drained whatever argumentative capacity he had. It was then that he realized just how drained he really was; memories of what had happened in the war so far flooded his mind. The Reaper War had only just recently entered its second month, and already so much had happened. To think, only a couple of weeks ago he was on Tuchanka, suffering under its blazing sun, running under Vanguard as the Mother of all Thresher Maws grappled with it...and now here he was, on Rannoch, once again moving to make history. Curing the genophage  _and_ reclaiming the lost homeworld of the quarians? Too much was happening too soon, and it took a toll on Marcus.

His body reacted on its own. His arms went from limp to hugging Tali to his chest tightly, and his eyes went from blankly looking into space to scrunched up against Tali's veil, a few tears escaping where no one could see them.

Peta was a monster, but he had absolved himself by saving his wife. And in some way, even if not completely, Marcus could learn to forgive the quarian in time.

Marcus was not a monster.

Because monsters didn't second guess themselves.

And for Peta, Valhalla awaited.

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_1047 hours._

_Walkway, Geth Superstructure Housing Server Hub 02241-14511, Dalpash Canyon, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Legion, Moses._

It hadn't taken long for the squad to mop up the area. Moses and his primes had cleared out the Cerberus corpses and disposed of them, but as the blood had already dried and wasn't much of a threat to any critical systems, they had let it remain. Randall of course was still nowhere to be found, and had likely escaped already, as Legion couldn't detect any Cerberus-tagged vessels in the vicinity. The Cerberus bodies had been thrown, quite ruthlessly he might add, outside to be cleaned up by Rannoch's more carnivorous wildlife; apparently an animal called the  _gbab'dav_ , which was reportedly reptilian in nature and very much like a cross between a gecko and a lion, thrived on this part of Rannoch, and did not discriminate between its prey; even geth platforms were said to have fallen to the beasts, although they obviously didn't eat them because they were machines and did not possess flesh of any kind to feast upon.

As for Peta's body...they couldn't just let him be eaten by the  _gbab'dav_ , and so instead, Marcus ordered James to pick up the quarian's body and carry it out with them.

With Legion's help, just like before, they managed to find their way out of the facility, pretty much the same way they entered. Marcus, having reached his breaking point, was almost entirely incapable of walking, and halfway to the entrance had practically collapsed, only for Garrus to pick him up. Now Legion and Garrus shared the load as they had both of his arms tossed over their shoulders, hands grasping them as they moved him along, the spectre himself just barely managing to keep his eyes open. He did not envy having to encounter the rays of Tikkun again, but if he could just reach the shuttle, he might be able to catch a nap.

Tali had elected to walk beside James, as if she was Peta's guardian, despite him being dead. Taking up the rear, just behind James and Tali, were the geth primes, moving in two columns through the isles, with Moses heading the two columns. Legion, Garrus and Marcus were of course at front, as Legion was needed to navigate them through, with Liara and Keeling just behind them exchanging the bare minimum of conversation.

Minutes later, as they were nearing the entrance, the team comms lit up, and not long after, Cortez's voice could be heard, "Shepard...Shepard! Squad, this is Cortez, please respond. What's your status, over? How copy, over?"

Marcus moved to respond, but Garrus, being his second-in-command, shook his head and tapped the comm instead, "Solid copy, Cortez. This is Vakarian. The squad is safe and sound, just ran into a bit of trouble."

"Tell me about it. I had to commence immediate dust off when a couple of Cerberus assault troopers decided to sneak up on me. I got off fine, but they...they don't seem to have coped so well," the pilot replied, "I've landed on the opposite side of the canyon, inside this massive cave; I was hoping the minerals in the rocks would help keep the shuttle safe from ground penetrating radar. Seems to have worked so far. What about you guys? Any surprise Cerberus encounters?"

Garrus just chuckled, grunting as they continued to move Marcus along, "You could say that; got a whole squad, actually. Thankfully though, we had some unexpected help. Although we do have one casualty," he said the last part with less humour, his tone taking a much more somber mood.

Cortez's response was instant, "Who was it? What's the extent of the damage?"

"Dead," Garrus declared, "But they weren't...he...he wasn't one of us."

"Copy that," Cortez responded, his voice less enthusiastic this time.

Garrus, changing the topic, quickly remembered something else the pilot had said, "Now Cortez, didn't you mention the Cerberus troopers not coping so well? What did you mean by that?"

There was the sound of a clearing throat over the comm, "Yeah, this  _huge_ four-legged creature came out of nowhere and just... _growled._ I can thank it for alerting me to those Cerberus troopers outside. By the time I was taking off though, it was already tearing them apart. You should have seen it; that thing was both bulletproof  _and_ able to tear through armor. Nasty stuff."

Tali was quick to respond over the comm, "That seems to describe  _gbab'dav_  perfectly. When the ancestors were still in the Stone Age, they were the greatest threat to my people. But by the time they had developed gunpowder, the ancestors had colonized the planet to the point where the  _gbab'dav_  were driven into the forests. It seems that after the Exodus, they have returned to their original habitat."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to pick a fight with one," Cortez declared, sighing, "So how went the mission? And where's Shepard?"

"The mission was a success, Cortez. The Cerberus soldiers were dealt with, and we found the location of the Reaper signal. We also managed to win over a platoon geth primes to our cause," Garrus smugly declared, rounding another corner. His waypoint stated that they were almost back at the entrance, "As for Marcus, he's a bit out of it. Apparently his time in the consensus really drained him. He'll live."

"I feel like shit," Marcus mumbled, "You having to carry me doesn't make that any better."

"How do you think I feel?" Garrus drawled, "I have to help Legion drag your fat ass back to the shuttle. Not my idea of fun either."

Cortez cut into the ensuing banter, his voice not radiating the surprise it usually had when confronted with ridiculous situations, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised Shepard won over a bunch of geth. If he can talk down krogan, then anything's possible. Where should I pick you up?"

"Same place you picked us up, Cortez," Garrus stated firmly, "We should be there soon."

"Copy that," Cortez responded, the sound of the shuttle's systems powering up being heard in the background, "I'll be there as soon as I can. Cortez out."

Garrus lowered his hand, turning to look at Legion, "How far are we now, Legion? My navpoint says the entrance is dead ahead."

The geth nodded, "That is correct, Vakarian-Archangel. We will be clear soon."

"You know..." Marcus began, coughing slightly, "...I could have easily answered that hail myself, Garrus."

The turian just scoffed, baffled by the human's audacity, "You can't even walk, Marcus. I suggest you let me handle the rest of this mission. Don't worry; I'll do my best to make sure there's nothing to shoot at. Otherwise I'd be forced to take all the kills, and we just can't have that, can we?"

"You're learning...Vakarian," Marcus said dryly, smiling slightly, "You're a slow learner mind you, but at least you're trying."

The turian's only response was to chuckle, and they continued towards the entrance in silence, the only sound being the slight patter of their footsteps and the much louder thuds of the geth's footsteps behind them.

Only a minute later, they rounded the corner, and the entrance was once again before them. As soon as they rounded it, Marcus had expected his face to be blasted by a wave of heat and blinded by the light of Tikkun, with humidity quickly setting in and sending sweat pouring down his skin, with his armor's air conditioners desperately trying to compensate.

Instead, his air conditioner's were now working alittle too efficiently.

Where he should have been wincing from sunlight blocking his vision, he was now wincing due to a chilly breeze slamming into his face, followed by wetness. As he opened his eyes, he realized that the wetness was actually water, and it was coming in small droplets, which continued to assault his face briefly until the wind died down, causing the water to cease its attack upon his team and instead fall restlessly onto the ground, drenching the walkway and creating little, isolated puddles all around. He watched as the water bounced off the steel, and the distant sound of thunder could be heard in the background.

"Well, would you look at that," James exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, "That looks like rain to me. Now  _that_ is something you'd never see on Tuchanka. When it was nothing but a wasteland anyway."

Marcus could only marvel at the sudden change in climate and weather. Humidity and heat had vanished to be switched with a chilly wind and cold air; something his air conditioned suit was quick to notice and adapt, switching off the air coolers and turning on his in-built thermal unit. Rain cut across the air, drenching the entire continent, falling from the dark clouds that birthed them, which trailed across the sky and blotted out the beautiful orange he had noted before and, thankfully, Tikkun was nowhere to be seen. Darkness literally clouded the sky, and everywhere he could see, anything that wasn't covered, was drenched in water. It was heavy; the droplets were fat and blotchy, not small and barely noticable like light drizzle. And then, just like all storms, the main entertainment made its presence known, booming across the clouds, hidding behind their thick, grey curtain.

White flashes briefly blotted the sky, occurring rapidly, randomly and ending just as quickly. Five seconds later, sounds like those of multiple explosions grouped together and amplified; distant, yet present. The sound was disembodied, coming from everywhere at once, and the sound so eerily reminded him of his torment at the hands of Oblivion back in the consensus.

"This must be the season inbetween the dry and wet seasons," Tali noted. Unlike the others, who were trying to avoid the rain (except Legion, who didn't care) she was openly embracing it. She stood outside, arms opened out and visor looking up at the sky, the rain so heavy that it drenched her form in seconds. Luckily, her new veil was flexible metal, and the water simply pelted off of it, and the rest of her suit, while wet, went through largely the same process. Rain flowed off of her visor like flowing rivers, and she looked to be utterly enjoying the sensations.

Marcus could only smile while looking at her, but the smile had a tint of sadness behind it.  _I bet she's wishing she could feel that rain on her skin. Wishing she could open her mouth and let it flow down her throat. She's experiencing the natural phenomenon of her homeworld, and at the same time, she isn't._

"So basically like Spring back on Earth?" Keeling asked. When Tali looked quizzically at her, she explained quickly, "On Earth, we have a dry season, which is Summer, and a wet or cold season, depending where you come from, called Winter. Again, depends on which part of the planet. But we also have two inbetween seasons, Autumn and Spring. Autumn is the transition between Summer and Winter, where night comes earlier and and the temperatures cool down. Spring is more of an "aftermath" phase, and its basically where we have both sun and rain to help plants grow."

"Okay then," Tali responds, looking back up at the sky. A few seconds later, she looks back down, "Then I guess this is Rannoch's Spring then," she then turns back to the group, "Come on, we should get going. Cortez is probably waiting for us."

So, despite the rain, the squad trudged on. Luckily, they weren't wearing any clothes, just armor, which meant they couldn't get drenched; unluckily for Garrus though, his lack of a helmet meant his unprotected head was getting pelted. Legion, Moses and the other geth didn't mind though; being a machine had its benefits, including not having to worry about such trivial "organic" worries. Marcus, his helmet attached to his belt, also had his head getting pelted, his hair now drenched and sticking to his face and pouring down his face. Despite it all though, he enjoyed the sensation. Definitely better than intense heat.

Just as before, they trudged along the walkway and it didn't take them long to reach their shuttle. Cortez delivered on his promise, and the shuttle was now hovering above the end of the walkway, thrusters spitting out exhaust as it hovered. As they got closer, the hatch slid open, and Cortez was waiting for them, wincing against the rain. Reaching down, he helped Garrus and Legion lift Marcus onto the kodiak, but Legion did most of the work, so it was really just up to Cortez to help lift him the rest of the way. Once inside, the rest of the squad hopped in.

Except Legion.

Marcus, confused, twsited in his seat to face the geth, coughing, "Legion? You're not coming with us?"

Legion shook its head, and it only took Moses and his platoon to come into view for Marcus to begin to understand, "This shuttle does not sport the tonnage or space to fit this cohort. However, Moses has informed us that this facility sports numerous dropship-class vessels that should be able to suit our needs. We will use one of these dropships to transport us back to Normandy."

Garrus just chuckled, "Another one? First the one on the dreadnought, and now a second dropship? You spoil us, Legion."

"Affirmative," the geth responded, with what Marcus thought was a genuine response to Garrus' quip. If the turian noticed it however, he did not show it, and simply lay back in his seat as Cortez returned to the cockpit. The hatch closed, sealing off the view of Legion and the primes, and they felt the shuttle lurch, and then begin to move.

Just as they began to leave however, Tali spoke, loud enough for Cortez to hear her.

"We're not leaving yet, Cortez," the quarian declared, approaching the cockpit.

"What?" Marcus protested, raising an eyebrow at her, "Why?"

Just as she opened the cockpit door, she turned back to him, a sad look in her eyes. He understood immediately. Without saying a word, he simply nodded, and Tali nodded back, confirming their silent confirmation. She entered the cockpit, door closing behind her, and began to tell Cortez what she wanted to do.

"Why aren't we leaving?" James asked, gently laying Peta's body on the ground, careful not to disturb Tali's arrangement of it, "Its too dangerous to stay."

Marcus simply closed his eyes, "We've got unfinished business." And with that, he fell silent, gulping as he thought through all that had happened.

It was alot to think about.

**{Loading...}**

_July 9, 2186_

_1103 hours._

_Lower Mountain Side, Mount Kelle'kar, Former Country of Zel'Matesh, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

It didn't take Tali long to find a suitable location for what she wanted to do. In retrospect, it was actually a perfect spot. A large mountain, likely three quarters the size of Mount Everest back on Earth, stood in the middle of a vast plain, and it was only ten kilometers southwest from Dalpash Canyon. Unlike Everest, it was not covered in snowy peaks and nor was it in the middle of a frozen expanse. Instead, it looked exactly like the location it was sported on: Rannoch. Replacing snowy peaks was simply barren, rocky savannahs, with disjointed paths winding up the side of the tall sentinel, and the odd tree poking from its surface. It was quite possibly the second most beautiful thing he had seen all day.

Tali had chosen one particular spot near the base of the mountain; on the lower peak. Upon contacting Legion, the geth had told them that the mountain was referred to as Kelle'kar, and Legion, referring to human naming conventions, had called it Mount Kelle'kar. It was named after a quarian explorer who lived, according to the human Gregorian calender, around 67 BCE. Kelle'Kar pav Zal'Arteshna, which was the name of the country that preceded Zal'Matesh, had led an expedition up the mountain during the quarian equivalent of the gunpowder era, and all but him had died scaling it. When he reached the top, he had placed the country flag on top.

In his arrogance, he misstepped while drinking to his victory, and toppled down the side of the mountain, splitting his skull open on a jagged rock. His body was recovered and buried at the base, and the mountain named in his honor. Marcus asked how Legion could have known this, as the geth had stated that they had no memory of anything before their creation, but the geth had said that it was a memory possessed by one of the primes, of which possessed the programs of a unit that had once been the secretary of a well-known quarian historian; a woman who was recalled to the Republican Army when war broke out, and died in the subsequent fighting.

The explanation had only shown to Tali that her choice in locale was perfect.

Still raining, although slightly died down, Tali had stepped out only to be assaulted once more. James had followed her, with Peta back in his arms, and Marcus had followed, even ignoring the objections of Garrus as he did so. Tali had grabbed a shovel from the back of the shuttle; part of the emergency kit stored in it in case of a crash or in the event that they were stranded. She seemed to drag the piece of equipment along the ground, her eyes scanning the area for a suitable digging location, while James followed behind her silently, carrying the dead quarian in his arms like he weighed nothing. Meanwhile however, Marcus found himself constantly peaking up the mountain side. It towered above them, standing silently, while thunder clapped around its spired peak, truly extending upon them the aura of its might, and emphasizing the awe they felt in its presence.

Garrus' voice crackled on his and Marcus' personal comm frequency, "Marcus...is she alright?"

"She will be, Garrus."

"She's acting like a zombie."

"You think I haven't noticed?"

"I know you have. I'm just wondering what you plan on doing about it."

"Tali's already figured out what she's going to do about it. That's why we're here."

"Yes, but should we let her?"

Marcus stopped for a moment, sighing, "If you've got to say it, Garrus, say it."

"I'm just worried, Marcus. Liara is too. When Jacob, Mordin and Thane died, you were different, but this is..."

Marcus continued along, rolling his eyes, "...different? How so? The only difference here is that Tali gets to bury her grief. I,  _we_...we never got that chance."

"Thane did."

"And what about Mordin, hmmm?" Marcus snapped, "And Jacob? Thane was put to rest because we had a body. Mordin and Jacob, two good men, now lie in unmarked graves. After losing your squad on Omega, I thought you'd understand."

When Garrus responded, it was bitter, "Of course I understand. I...look, I'm sorry. I'm just...scared."

Marcus sighed, nodding, "You just want everything to go back to normal. I get it."

"Normal?" Garrus laughed. His attempt at humour, "Since when as any of us been that?"

"Times are different, Garrus. If I could change everything back to like it was in the old days, I would. Kicking mercenary ass. Nothing to worry about but the next mercenary boss to kill. With Tali and you at my side, the Normandy...but its not like that anymore, Garrus. I think Tali's realizing that faster than we are. It just took Peta dying to wake her up."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Then maybe we all need to grow up, eh?"

"Yeah...we certainly do."

A few minutes later, and Tali finally felt satisfied with the spot she found; a large open area with no rocks in the way. Just the damp, wet ground, and the rain over their heads. Turning to James, she nodded, and turned back.

She brought up the shovel, positioned it, and made the first thrust into the ground.

Sitting down on a nearby rock, Marcus could only watch Tali plow through inches of dirt, slowly and steadily creating a man-sized hole in the soil. As she continued, her digging got more ferocious, and towards the end there seemed to be anger and pain in her digging, making her movements more desperate and frenzied. The sight pained him, but he knew this was Tali's therapy...her way of coping with her loss.

_Normal. Normal. What's normal anymore?_

Ever since a month ago, normal had been ridded from the equation. The Reapers were here in force, and everything they had taken for granted was burning burnt away, one world at a time.

_There is no such thing as normal anymore. No, normal is taking the back burner. Now, its fight or we die. Victory at any cost. Ruthless calcalus._

_But that's what war is, isn't it? Fighting for normality. Fighting to preserve it._

_What is war, but not a fight for normality?_ In that moment, Marcus realized.

_That's what I'm fighting for, isn't it? For a normal life in Tali? What worthier motivation is there but for a chance at a normal life for two, tired soldiers?_

_...but will the aftermath permit that? Or will be so desensitized by the end that we can't differentiate between a battlefield and a lounge room?_

_'Romance doesn't belong on the battlefield', I once told myself. For some, maybe that still rings true._

He was standing up by the time, which was an hour later, the hole was fully dug. He approached as he watched Tali toss the shovel up and onto the surface, turning to James and motioning for the body. James did as he was told, and quickly and quietly lowered Peta's body into Tali's arms. While his body was heavy, and Tali's body strained with the effort to hold him, it wasn't long before she put him to rest on the bottom of the hole. She straightened his suit, and then proceeded to simply stare at him, as if saying one final goodbye.

When he finally reached the hole, James reached down and offered his wife a hand up. She took it, and she braced a foot against the wall to help boost her up. Once firmly back on the surface, she leapt to the otherside of the hole and retrieved her shovel. Returning to the large pile of dirt she made, she began the arduous process of returning it to its previous location.

The first load landed squarely on Peta's face, the second on his torso. Only ten minutes later, Peta's body vanished beneath the dirt, and Tali only continued to add the dirt. Twenty minutes later, only dirt remained, shaped in the outline of the hole she had made, and standing in firm contrast to the area around them. She compacted the soil with the flip side of the shovel and then dumped it to the ground, falling silent once more as she simply stared at it. That's all they did for a few, odd minutes...just stare at it, the rain peppering down all around them.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, they were shaken from their silentium by a familiar squawk was heard.

A few moments later, Tali and Marcus looked up to watch as a  _qui'tee_ glided down towards them. It flapped its wings effortlessly, its beakless mouth opening to squawk was once more, showing off its serated canines. It was left unperturbed by the rain, continuing to fly regardless and circling around them before finally descending.

Both of its three-toed feet quickly found purchase, and the bird flapped one more time before coming to rest directly on top of the hole Tali had just filled in. Marcus was eerily reminded of Tali's words regarding the mythology of the creatures, even as the  _qui'tee_ took note of their presence, squawking up at them, its mouth hanging open.

 _"It was said when a quarian dies, a_ qui'tee  _would come down and carry their soul to the afterlife."_

These words only continued to haunt him as the  _qui'tee_ began to peck at the ground, displacing a few articles of dirt. Its next squawk sounded angry, and they only watched as it continued to peck, as if trying to dig. Eventually, it gave up and took flight once more, flapping its wings until it was ascending into the air, turning into a mere dot to their eyes.

_Maybe the myth rings some truth after all..._

After a while, he turned back. As he did, he heard words being mumbled under Tali's breath, and he immediately remembered them. They were the quarian equivalent of a mourning prayer, and he let her be as she said them. Eventually, she finished and just stood there. She was moving to grab his arm and tell them to go, as James had already done, having left to give them privacy, but stopped when she heard him begin to speak himself, saying his words much more loudly.

"May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified. Amen," he began, saying the words with clear uncertainty. It had been a long time since he had muttered the words, but he did so regardless, and as he spoke, he grew with confidence, "in the world that He created as He willed. May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days, and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel, swiftly and soon. Amen. May His great Name be blessed forever and ever. Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One. Blessed is He, beyond any blessing and song, praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Amen."

Taking a deep breath, as Tali listened on, he finally finished, "May there be abundant peace from Heaven, and life upon us and upon all Israel. Amen. He Who makes peace in His heights, may He make peace, upon us and all Israel," with one final look to Peta, he turned to Tali, and their eyes met. His last word might as well have been a mumble.

"Amen."

Seeing he was done, she spoke, raising one hand to stroke his cheek, "What...what was that? Alot of it didn't translate."

His eyes stayed with hers, and he reached up one hand to cradle the one she had to his cheek, "I...its something I haven't said in a very long time. Its called the Mourner's Kaddish, or the Kaddish Prayer. Its...its a vital part of my people."

"So its a human thing?"

"No, not human. Not universally anyway," Marcus shook his head, "But...its Jewish. Do you remember when I told you about them?"

"Yes," Tali said immediately, sighing as she lowered her hand, "I remember everything you tell me. I also remember you telling me you'd given up on your old faith after your first death. What changed?"

He turned back to Peta's grave, slowly, and sighed.

"I realized faith is what's needed to win this war."

**"So after Peta'Yala's sacrifice, what happened? You returned to the Normandy, obviously. But I'm guessing this was the endgame, given that you now had the Reaper signal's location."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes. But I also realized we couldn't tackle the geth base alone. Not with just my squad, and I couldn't risk the immense casualties that would ensue by bringing the Migrant Fleet back into the fold. No, I decided we needed outside help."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"The UGC."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Yes."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yes, last I checked, I am alive. Alive and kicking. And no, I wasn't comatose, either. And I wasn't dead and resurrected due to a hyper-secret Lazarus-esque project that was run by a terrorist group either. I simply wasn't DEAD. Question is, are YOU?** _

_**I only got one review last chapter. ONE. Why you hate me so? Ah, actually, maybe it was my shitty attempts at Middle English, like that one. Anyway, I sincerely hope I get more reviews this time around. Especially now that I bring good news: I just finished Year 11! YAY! Yes, with my exams and Kickstart out of the way, I'm officially in my last year of school EVER. THANK THE GODS! God...sorry.** _

_**With this comes more Fallout 4, more Halo 5 Warzone...oh, and this fanfic, of course. Ha! A matter of fact, given that I now have 2 months of holidays, I hope to have the quarian-geth arc done and dusted by the time I officially start Year 12. And hopefully having started the next arc. However, I do have a history with promises, but I do remind you that I haven't broken my biggest promise: this story will never die while I still live. I will continue to work on it. But with Year 12 next year (and it being my most important year), IV: Holocaust might become alot like Razor's Edge: Requiem in terms of updates, I'm afraid. While I have seemed like an Iron Man when it comes to this fanfic (alot of authors, especially professionals, have expressed disbelief at my ability to perform despite the life I live), but that ends as of next year. I will still post, but said posts will be far and few. Needless to say, don't expect consistent updates like this, but do expect eventual updates. As long as my love for Mass Effect remains strong, I will continue to write. That being said, THAT'S TWO MONTHS AWAY! So right now, let me write like crazy!** _

_**Next chapter will be another interim. Yes, I know, I haven't had this many interims (let alone non multi-part chapters. Seriously, this story is turning into the Mass Effect equivalent of Doctor Who Series 9 with the amount of multi-parts I'm doing) since the space between 'Coup De'tat' and 'Cold Liberties', but there it is. Just one more before the big payoff. The interim will be largely focused around preparing for the attack on the geth fortress. After that, a two or three-parter (depends how long it gets) for Priority: Rannoch, and to end the Quarian-Geth arc with a bang. ;)** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	51. Get Me A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and the admirals plan their final assault on the geth fortress housing the Reaper signal.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE:**

**GET ME A HOME**

_July 10, 2186_

_1547 hours._

_Medical Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Chief Medical Officer Karin Chakwas._

While growing a tooth back for asari wasn't a very long process, that didn't make it pleasant.

Suffice to say, the Shadow Broker, former queen of the largest information network in the galaxy, was in alot of discomfort. If it weren't for the side railings that flanked either side of the medbay bed she was currently lying on, she may have subconsciously rolled off the bed in her irritation. Pain flared up her gums, and every gulp she took only enflamed it. Chakwas had offered painkillers, but Liara had politely refused to take them, saying that all asari deal with this at one point or another, and that giving her anasthetics for it would be the equivalent of wasting time looking for a cure for the common hiccup.

Sure enough though, she was now spending that time in torturous pain. She did her best to occupy her thoughts with other things, such as looking through extranet articles or videos she had downloaded to her omni-tool, or connecting to her office's personal wireless network and looking through the few status reports she had received from what few agents and operatives she still possessed.

While the Shadow Broker's private army had taken a huge dent from Shepard's wrath, it had coped well. After her predecessor's death, his... _her_...network had been in shambles. Not only had a sizable dent been put in her private army thanks to Shepard and the Normandy crew, but the assault on the Shadow Broker's Base had led to panic among her operatives, and many had considered desertion before she announced herself. Since then, and before the destruction of her former base in Hagalaz, she had steadily grown their numbers back to their previous point, and organization had been brought around. Ever since the Reaper invasion however, what had been left of her network was almost totally destroyed. What few agents she had left to communicate with were scattered, and no longer possessed the resources they previously had. What she had left couldn't be called a private army anymore, and the information network had effectively ceased to exist...but Liara was making do with what she had left. And what she had was more than sufficient for her needs.

Her main worry was Feron. With no comm buoys being present in both the Far Rim and Perseus Veil clusters, Liara had found herself, for the first time in a while, totally disconnected from her network, and therefore from her agents. Of course, she had been prepared for this eventuality, and had sent a general message to all her agents and operatives informing them of her intended absence. Ever since then, all reports or messages she got would be cuing up on the extranet band, and wouldn't be received by Glyph until they were back in range of a comm buoy. That meant she was effectively in the dark. All her operatives could die, or something important might come to her attention regarding the Catalyst or the Reapers, and she wouldn't know until this war with the geth was over.

Even before entering the Far Rim, her contact with Feron, her top operative and lover, was almost entirely non-existent. He hadn't made any reports in the last few weeks, and considering that he had been tasked to hunt for one of her missing wet work teams in the Traverse, it was more than logical for her to assume the worst. The Traverse had largely been ignored to the Reapers due to it being called the 'dead end' of colonization efforts, with most of the habitable worlds residing within Hegemony, Alliance, Council and Terminus space. Nevertheless, the Traverse was still a dangerous place, especially in terms of the newly hostile geth. Cerberus operations in the area were far more frequent than in any other area due to the lack of the Reaper's presence, and even the odd Reaper patrolled the area in search of worlds to conquer.

Given the hostile environment, it was more than logical for Liara to come to the conclusion that the wet work squad she lost was dead, and Feron had died in his search of them.

Liara scrunched her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. Even with Feron long out of contact, she completely rejected the conclusion her mind was constantly being brought back to. When she had discovered Feron caged up on the Broker's ship, she had sworn she wouldn't let him suffer such a thing ever again. If he was captured by the Reapers...goddess, she would rather him be  _dead_ than suffer the fate of becoming a husk. And if Cerberus caught him? Being a terrorist organization's lab experiment was even worse.

These thoughts were, as always, unwelcome in her mind. Any thoughts of people she loved and cared about being hurt or tortured were unwelcome, especially if it came to Feron. The drell who she had come to love was tougher than she gave credit for, and given the fact that he was a drell, and had likely done some form of contract for the hanar, as was the law dictated by the Compact, whether it be mercenary work, assassinations, military service, or so forth, her worries were likely baseless. But if Feron was okay, why the silence? Why not just one message, to at least let her know he was alive?

Or maybe being in a communication blackout was what was saving him. Maybe he was afraid of the enemy intercepting his communications and tracking him.

All of these were just theories...ones Liara couldn't legitimize without proof. She was no fool; the standards and burdens of proof had always rested on her, as many asari scholars had taught her when they rejected her theories on the protheans...back in the days when she was a mere anti-social, shy archaelogist, and not the galaxy's greatest player in the information market. Or, at least, former great player. Whether there would be even a galactic economy, let alone a market, in the next few years was something none of them could affirm to. As of now, she could only speculate and hope Feron was alive. And if she was lucky, she would get a message from him once they got back to galactic civilization. Until then, speculation is all she had.

Speculation fueled her hope. And hope was far too scarce at the moment.

As Liara looked around the room, ignoring the pain in her gums, she began to wonder why she was even here. A missing tooth hardly constituted as a battlefield injury, and even if it were, it definitely wasn't one worth wasting the medbay staff's time. It was accurate to say that the medbay hardly had any injuries to treat, but that still didn't justify taking up a medical bay bed when she could be in her office doing work.

She knew that what they were doing here was important, but she couldn't help a feeling of isolationism. They were totally cut off from the rest of the galaxy, and for all they knew, they could finish this war and return only to learn that the Reapers have taken the Citadel, or the Cerberus tried again and succeeded to assassinate the Council, or that the Crucible was discovered and obliterated. For all Liara knew, her own homeworld could be under attack...

There was just too many factors to consider. She needed to know what was happening outside of this cluster. What was Cerberus up to? What worlds had fallen to the Reaper fleets? Had one of her operatives found the Catalyst? What was the Illusive Man up to other than sending a manhunter to capture her captain's wife? Just who had Leng murdered since they left?

Too many questions, not enough answers. It began to gnaw away at her conscience. She needed exposure. She needed her network.

"You're looking apprehensive, Liara," came Chakwas' voice, the asari turning her head to face the doctor, who was seated behind her desk on her left, typing away at a medical report on her personal terminal. The doctor was now turned towards her, looking slightly irritated, with a raised eyebrow, "I haven't got you caged. You can leave, whenever you want."

Liara nodded, licking her purple lips. Sighing, she poked the new gap between her teeth with her tongue, wincing as she felt the sharp end of a tooth poking out the top of her gum. A few more hours, and it would have grown back to its original state. Liara had lost that tooth many times, but like every other time, the asari body persisted. If she were human, she would have lost the tooth permanently several decades ago, but due to her longer lifespan, she didn't lose the ability to regrow teeth until she was 900, and that was definitely many centuries away. Pulling her tongue back, she collected herself, deactivating her omni-tool and folding her hands on her lap.

"I know that, doctor. And to be honest, I don't even know why I'm sitting here. I could be working in my office."

"Please, call me Karin. We've served together long to forget the formalities," the elderly doctor replied with a smile as she twisted her chair around to face her quasi-patient, "Also, I think I might know why you're here. You need somebody to talk to."

Liara scoffed, shaking her head, "I'm asocial, Karin. I actively avoid conversations with people unless it involves research, or I'm talking to one of my operatives."

Chakwas shook her head with a chuckle, "You're talking about the old Liara. You've changed, the whole crew sees that. The old Liara didn't have to micro-manage the single largest and most concentrated information network the galaxy has ever seen, even during the midst of the greatest war the galaxy will ever witness. And if you were truly 'asocial,' you wouldn't have engendered Marcus' trust so much, or fallen for Feron."

Liara sighed, but it was an amused sigh, and she smiled as she glanced at Chakwas, before turning back to look straight at the ceiling, "You know me better than I do, Karin. You are right of course; most of my asocial qualities have dissolved quite a bit. I'd say all of the original crew has changed. Especially Tali."

Chakwas nodded silently, but didn't make any sound until she spoke again, "But aren't staying here to talk about Tali. What is on your mind, Liara?"

"Did I say there was?"

"You wouldn't still be here if there was nothing to talk about. A penny for your thoughts?"

The asari quirked an eyebrow at that, but just as she Chakwas going to elaborate, she held up one hand, smiling, "Wait, I get it now. Another unique, human idiom?" seeing the doctor nod, she laughed, shaking her head, "I see. I will keep that one in mind for next time. But...you are right. There is something I need to talk about, but I don't think I could talk with Marcus about it. He has...far too many things on his mind right now to worry about such...trivialities."

Chakwas nodded, leaning back in her seat as she crossed her legs, "Although I think you understand the amount of trouble Marcus will go through for one of his crew, you're right. Tali is helping, but he's under alot of pressure right now."

Liara rolled onto her side, opening her mouth before closing it. Turning away, she thought about what she was going to say. A few seconds later, the asari sits up on the bed's edge, hands clasped in her lap, and looks directly at Chakwas, "That's just it, though. Goddess, the amount of  _pressure_. I think...I think its too much for one man to handle, but he's insistent on carrying it all himself. I don't think even Tali is sharing a quarter of the load she thinks she is."

Chakwas creased her lips, "What do you mean?"

"I don't think Marcus is even telling Tali the whole story. I think there's alot of things he's keeping to himself," the asari blurted out, without much real thought to it.

"And how do you know this?"

Liara gulped, preparing the ultimate bomb of the conversation. After some preparation, she decided to simply get it out and over and done with, "Marcus...back on Rannoch...he admitted to draw a gun on Mordin down on Tuchanka. He said he was offered a deal by Linron that if he betrayed Wrex and sabotaged the cure, he would get the full support of the salarian military. And he...he almost went through with it."

Chakwas, despite being shocked to hear this, kept her composure as she asked, "Almost? I mean, the reports from the salarians state that tests have proven conclusive that every trace of the genophage has been eradicated and the remaining tissue containing it broken down and destroyed. The krogan are by all meanings of the term...cured. So its clear to me that Marcus didn't go through with it."

Liara nodded, "He didn't; he admitted that too. He said that no matter how much he wanted the salarian's support, he couldn't betray a friend and a brother. Goddess, Karin. The  _look_ in his eyes. He...hates himself. I think there's a part of him that he's keeping secret from us. If we didn't even know about that, then what else is he keeping secret from us? Was there more to that assassination plot by the indoctrinated hanar? What else has he been hiding from us?"

Chakwas held up her hands in a placative gesture, looking uncomfortable, "I believe we're toeing the line, Liara. While this is alarming news, I don't think its reason to doubt Marcus. And I have no doubt Tali is helping him through these difficult times. Her reappearance is most appropriate."

"But that's the thing: even  _Tali_ didn't know!" Liara declared, "He spoke to her as if this was the first time she had heard about it! Can you believe that?  _Tali_ , out of all the people on this ship, was also kept in the dark! What else is he hiding, Karin? How can we support him if he won't tell us the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? How useful are we, really? Aside from being combatants, we're not much help on the moral side of things are we?"

Chakwas sighed, rubbing her temples as she stood up and came to Liara's side, meeting the asari's eyes with intense purpose, "I think there are some things Marcus just isn't capable of telling us right now. Telling your friends and crew that you planned on betraying two others isn't exactly light news, Liara. He would have told us if he believed the information critical."

Liara just snorted, "The problem is that the information  _always_ has to be critical. It always has to be on a need-to-know basis. We're not just his subordinates, Karin. I'd like to think I'm one of his closest friends. Tali is his  _wife_. Garrus is his  _brother_ in many ways. We're essentially adopted family for him! And he doesn't think its reasonable that we know about this?"

"But you do know," Chakwas countered, waving a hand in the air to emphasize her point, "Down on Rannoch, he opened up. You just told me that."

Liara just let out a bitter chuckle, dropping from the bed to land on both feet on the tiled deck of the medical bay, "Yes, he told us.  _Eventually._ This is old news, Karin. Mordin and Wrex and the genophage cure...that was a while ago. Why has he only now told us, when the genophage has long been cured?"

Chakwas narrowed her eyes, looking at the asari almost accusingly, "You are acting like Marcus isn't trustworthy, Liara. Besides, even if you're the Shadow Broker, you can't know everything. I'm sure there were good reasons for why Marcus kept this a secret from us. He was likely trying to protect us...to keep our morale up. He is our commanding officer, after all."

"Its not that I don't trust him, Karin. Its the exact opposite," Liara reasoned, grasping her head as if she was in pain, "I just feel so...useless. So helpless. How can we, as a squad, support our commander if he is carrying extra baggage we don't know about? How are we supposed to be his friends, his moral anchors, if he won't let us in?"

Chakwas sighed with a hint of sadness in her tone, the old doctor reaching up and grasping Liara's shoulder tenderly, almost motherly, "Perhaps there are some things he does not want us to carry. Maybe he thinks he is the only one who can withstand these burdens."

Liara just shook her head, looking the doctor straight in the eyes, "That's insane."

Chakwas just shrugged, turning back to her desk, "I said that's probably what he thinks. I didn't say he was right to think as such."

Liara frowned as she watched the doctor seat herself back behind her desk, "Then you agree with me, then?"

Chakwas simply nodded as she spun back to face the asari, a inactive datapad in one hand, lying on her lap, "Yes Liara, but there isn't much we can do about it. If his own spouse can't yank the information out of his head, then we certainly won't be able to budge him. You could try, but it wouldn't do much good. All we can do is leave him be."

The asari growled in response, the doctor's response sounding far too lethargic and defeated for it to be the same person.  _How can she possibly endorse such an unorthodox strategy? We should just leave Marcus to his demons? We should just let him remain stubborn to the point where he eventually gets himself killed?_

"That's not good enough!" she shouted in response, although if the doctor was shocked or taken aback by the outburst, she didn't show it. Noticing how loud she had gotten, she lowered her voice, straightening her coat as she did, "I will not just stand here and let him continue to push us aside! How long will we wait until we step in and say enough is enough? When the time comes, and he is about to get himself killed, and he orders us to stay back, you can bet I'll be one of the people up for insubordination!"

Chakwas just smiles, leaning back as she let go of the datapad and crossed her arms, "And you think Tali, Garrus or Kaidan are any different? Tali would likely save him so she could kill him herself, Garrus would laugh his orders off and stop him, and Kaidan would point out the lack of logic in his orders. Believe it or not Liara, the crew is just as loyal to Marcus as you are. Noone is going to let him get away with any idiocy on this ship, or on the field."

With a final, discontented sigh, Liara just dropped her arms, taking a long gulp, "I know, I know. I just..." she bit her lower lip, then waved a dismissive hand, "I feel like we're being left out. Like he's deliberately pushing us away. And I hate it, Karin. I hate all of it!" she slammed her hand against the side of the bed, turning towards the doctor with a look of pure defiance, "Goddess, we should be past this by now! We should be able to tell each other things no other can hear! If he can't even tell his wife these things, than do we really know him? I don't even know anymore, Karin!"

Chakwas gulped, licking her own lips as she tapped absentmindedly at the datapad in her lap. She didn't seem to be doing anything, just simply typing without purpose. Eventually, she gulped and looked back to the asari, "Perhaps there is more to this than what we currently know. More than  _you_ or anyone else can easily identify."

Liara simply stared at the doctor, noticing her sudden change in posture. All the confidence she had was gone, and she looked uncomfortable, shifting uneasily in her seat. When Chakwas looked at Liara, she looked troubled; something had changed. Something Liara had said had sparked something in Chakwas' head, and she had now come to a realization.

_But just what has she realized, exactly?_

"Karin..." she spoke slowly and hesitantly, letting Chakwas know that she had picked up on the doctor's tone. But by the doctor's lack of reaction, it looked like she wasn't exactly trying to hide it to begin with, "...if there's something you know, you need to tell me."

Chakwas just shook her head, placing her left elbow on her desk's surface, leaning her face on a clenched fist, "Usually I'd be bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. Even in the military, some laws hold sacred."

Liara was quick to object.  _No you don't. You don't get to spark my curiosity and then shut me out._ "Karin, you need to-"

"But Marcus is family. Maybe not by blood, but by affiliation," the doctor interrupted, before the asari could go on a tangent, "And strictly speaking I haven't actually diagnosed him yet, so technically this is only a theory. Which is perfectly legal to discuss with outsiders," taking a shuddering breath, she continued, "Liara, there comes a time in every soldier's life where they will see things they don't come back from. Mentally. What they see cripples them. Now, alot of soldiers can be desensitized to that kind of thing. Most of them are either trained killers, disconnected from reality or simply exhibit psychopathic tendencies, such as Kai Leng. Most of them become CAT6; dishonorably discharged and shoved off the Corps without much fuss. Its mostly clandestine. Marcus...I wouldn't call him a sensitive man, but he is not like most soldiers. He's got a keen diplomatic mind, and he cares about his crew and squad; more than I can say for alot of Alliance commanders. But like I said, there will come a time where a soldier, even men like Marcus, will see too much bloodshed for them to cope with. Watched too many people die; had to watch their comrades get killed or sacrifice their lives, either for them or the mission. Being a commanding officer does not make this any easier; it only adds more problems. Having to make tactical decisions that could lose lives, but ultimately save more."

The more the doctor spoke, the more Liara's eyes widened, and when an opening was left open for her to speak, she did so, expressing her concern and  _worry_ all at the same time, "Karin, please tell me you're not suggesting what I  _think_ you're suggesting."

Chakwas sighed, creasing her lips, and when their eyes met, she saw the...the  _defeat_  in them, "I'm afraid so, Liara. All the evidence points towards it. From Jacob's death on Noveria, right up to Mordin and Thane's sacrifices. Again and again, he's been forced to make the difficult choices. I'm sure you remember Primarch Victus? Do you remember his son, Lieutenant Victus? Do you remember when Marcus told the Primarch that his son had given his life to protect the krogan?"

Liara nodded, "Yes, I do. I was there. I...I watched Tarquin fall with the bomb. His father should be proud," she crossed her arms, leaning against the bed, "But Marcus looked so calm and collected about it. He never said a word about it; he just sort've went on as if it was business as normal. Like no one had died at all."

Chakwas gave a bitter smile that was devoid of any actual humour, "He lost most of his squad on Elysium, watched civilians die all around him and lost his girlfriend in combat to the batarians. He lost the rest on Torfan charging batarian fortifications whilst under heavy fire. Then he lost an entire platoon to thresher maws on Akuze. He had to leave Ashley behind on Virmire. He wouldn't be where he is now if he let his emotions control him, Liara. He's always been good at reining them in. Before he met Tali, and even sometime afterward, he almost never let anyone in. Sure, after his...first death he's been alot more open, but that doesn't mean he's an open book. He hides his feelings because he has to, Liara. Not because he's okay with death. Tarquin's affected him in more ways than one."

Liara just scoffed, "Have you forgotten how devastated he was after Jacob's death? He scared the crap out of Miss Chambers and then sealed himself up in his cabin for a couple of days. Not exactly the model image of a calm, controlled soldier with his emotions in check."

"I know Liara," Chakwas retorted, "I was  _there_. I tried talking him down after he snapped at the poor woman. But you're forgetting something. Jacob was the turning point. Marcus lost it because he'd finally taken too much loss. He had reached the breaking point. Crossed the line. As I said Liara, every soldier reaches that point where they crack. Where they've seen too much loss and can't cope anymore. I imagine Jacob being murdered by a man he despises only made it worse for Marcus."

Liara looked at her warily, "I don't know, Karin."

"The evidence fits, I'm telling you. And as a medical professional, I think I can tell when the symptoms start appearing," Chakwas persisted, "Ever since Jacob's death he's only deteriorated. The fact that he pulled a gun on Mordin just before the man sacrificed himself certainly didn't help things, Liara. The fact of the matter is that we simply can't ignore what's staring us in the face. If it weren't for Tali, he probably would have found comfort at the bottom of a bottle right now."

"Even if you're right," Liara concluded, shaking her head as she stepped away from the bed to move into the middle of the room, hands on her hips, "How are we supposed to approach this? We can't very well  _tell_ the crew that he has PTSD, can we? We're on the precipice on retaking Rannoch! Telling the crew this kind of thing would only cause discontent and a drop of morale."

"What do you think I've been telling you?" Chakwas snapped back, "That is  _why_ Marcus hasn't told anyone. This is a matter of morale. If people learn now that he isn't the infallible hero with an infinite list of solutions for every problem he faces than morale will drop. And in the middle of a war that could determine the fate of the entirety of galactic civilization, that is unacceptable. As harsh a reality as it may be, no one can know about this. As a matter of fact, news about this cannot leave this room. Only you and I can know."

Liara just scoffed, turning around to look Chakwas in the eyes, "Not even Tali?"

"Tali least of all, I'm afraid," Chakwas said with an a hint of regret in her tone, "As his wife, she would be the most inclined to follow up on this. Which could lead to another outburst. That, and with her being friends with Miss Goto, it is more than likely our resident thief would get wind of this and begin spreading such information willy-nilly. I don't doubt her integrity, but with information such as this, she cannot be trusted."

"So we just let the crew continue to believe he's fine?" Liara asked, flabbergasted, "That he's not suffering from severe PTSD?"

It was then that Liara noticed Chakwas look uncomfortable once more. It was the same gesture she made when about to reveal her theory on Marcus' PTSD, and it made Liara believe that there was something else the doctor wasn't telling her. And that it was just as big as her PTSD revelation.

She cocked her head, letting the doctor know of her hidden revelation, "Karin, is there something else I should know?"

Chakwas looked at her for a moment before shaking her head, spinning back to face her desk, "No, its nothing. Just a crazy theory of mine...its of no consequence."

Liara was having none of it, quickly moving up to the doctor and placing her hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, "Doctor, if you have anything you need to say, I recommend saying it now."

There was a sigh, before the doctor nodded, letting Liara know she could retract her hand. She did just that as the doctor turned back to face her, a look of exhaustion on her features. It took her a few moments to speak, but when she did, her words were tired and hushed, "Liara, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it. I think the captain is-"

The doctor immediately shut her mouth at the sound of the haptic interface disappearing. Both heads turned towards the door immediately as it opened, revealing the form of none other than the devil himself.

Marcus stepped into the room, eyes immediately landing on the two of them with a warm smile, "You look better, Liara. How's the tooth coming along?"

Liara had almost forgotten the pain in her gums until Marcus brought it up. Suddenly, the pain was back, almost as if summoned by his question. She nodded, putting on a fake smile as she responded. The revelation of Marcus' PTSD had put a dent in her mood for the day, and she was hoping her smile was good enough to ward off suspicion. She didn't want Marcus to begin doubting her as she had begun to doubt him.

_I'm so sorry, Marcus._

"Its fine. Healing along nicely," Liara replied kindly, maintaining her fake, but necessary, smile, "Asari teeth heal within hours after being knocked out, unlike humans. It keeps going like that until we're 900. If we lose a tooth after that, its gone for good."

Chakwas nodded, catching onto Liara's act and adding to it with her own, more successful, smile, "Liara is correct, of course. Asari lifespans means their body has to compensate for the thousand years that they are capable of living. Their body doesn't decompose as rapidly as it does in humans, their brains are more advanced than ours and capable of consuming more information, and everything heals faster aside from the odd wound. Teeth included."

Marcus nodded, turning back to Liara, "That's good to hear. Although I'm sure losing a tooth isn't exactly like getting indoctrinated, its better to be in good shape than in poor shape when we begin our final assault on Rannoch."

Liara nodded, maintaining her composure.  _I really am sorry, Marcus. I wish I could help you. I wish we could all help you. Damn this war._

She just replied with as cheery a voice as possible, "Even if my tooth didn't heal properly, I'd still be down there with you, fighting the geth and making history happen. I'm not going to miss this assault for anything. No lost tooth is going to stop me."

Marcus simply nodded, turning back to the door, his hands clasped behind his back, "Very good. Well, I better get moving. There'll be a squad debriefing in the War Room to discuss the attack with the quarian admirals in an hour. I expect you'll be there?"

"Certainly."

"Excellent. I'll see you then," and with that, as quickly as he had arrived, the man was gone, door closing behind him.

And despite the coming battle, Liara couldn't feel hope or determination rushing through her. On Tuchanka, she had gone in knowing that they were going to cure a thousand year old genophage and make history. Now that they were about to do it again, she couldn't muster the same enthusiasm.

In the end, Liara didn't know what to think.

 _Is he really falling apart inside?_ she thought to herself.  _Is there noone who can save him?_

She answered that for herself within moments.  _There's only one person who can do that._

**{Loading...}**

_July 10, 2186_

_1615 hours._

_Engineering, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Chief Engineer Gregory Adams, Power Engineer Kenneth Donnelly, Propulsion Engineer Gabriella Daniels._

Tali was not happy.

On one hand, she was glad to be home in the proverbial sense. Sure, the Migrant Fleet was technically her home right from birth, but the Normandy crew had been where she was at her most  _useful._ On the Normandy, she was  _achieving_ something. Whether it had been fighting an army of geth and hunting down an indoctrinated turian madman, stopping an enigmatic race of converted protheans from harvesting the human race, or ending a cycle that has gone on for billions of years unimpeded; possibly since the dawn of civilization itself. On the Flotilla, she was just another marine. Here, she was  _something._

But to be even more technical, the Normandy's engine room was where she truly felt at home. Being one of the best and brightest the quarian race had to offer, especially as an engineer, meant that having access to the most state-of-the-art technology in the galaxy was a treasure strove to the young admiral. She had gone from one of Adams' underlings on the SR-1 to section head of the engineering department on the SR-2 during the fight with the Collectors.

All the technology she could want to tinker with, vents to crawl through and clean...it was a quarian engineer's idea of vacation.

She hadn't been near engineering for a while, even after boarding the Normandy. She had been too wrapped up in seeing Marcus again. The first time she saw him again was when she thought she would  _die_. Then she was off to blow up a geth super-dreadnought. That, coupled with her almost constant workload with being an admiral and all the meetings meant that her original skill set was sidelined.

But now she was finally back. Not permanently of course, but at least she got to  _see_ the place. She was still an Admiral, and while Gerrel didn't want to discuss battle tactics at this current moment, or having to argue with Xen about whether or not to divert search-and-rescue efforts so that the insane admiral could retrieve  _geth salvage_ (an argument Tali had won, much to Xen's vehemence), she knew she would have to delve into the realm of politics and leadership sooner or later.

_At least with Marcus the people he leads are his friends, and the people who lead him respect him immensely. Most of the men and women under my command don't even address me on a first name basis, and my work colleagues are no different. Shala's my aunt and is almost incapable of seeing me as anything other than a child. Koris is resistant to almost any plan that involves military action while Gerrel is too eager. And Xen...Xen is just an insane, cold-hearted_ _**bitch** _ _._

Tali barely held a giggle at that.  _Marcus has adopted some of my terminology...only fair that I adopt some of his. At least it isn't as...colorful as the other language I hear him say. He and Jack could have a swearing contest._

So, Tali was home. In engineering. Adams was all too eager to let her have her old console, as it still wasn't taken. Ken and Gabby continued to use the consoles on the starboard (right) side of engineering, so the two that Tali preferred on the port (left) side were open for her to use. The main console infront of the drive core was periodically used by Adams, but his main console was the one in the middle, facing the back of the engineering bay and inbetween the starboard and port consoles.

So Tali approached her old console, the rightside of the two, and eagerly opened it up.

And now here she was, seething.

So far, it was silent. She just stared at the console, hands swiping through it as she checked all the systems...to the best of her ability. The main problem she had was that she couldn't  _comprehend_ any of the text on the  _screen_.

Tali wouldn't lie. She missed the old SR-2. The entire ship had just been a  _massive_ improvement over the SR-1. She liked the SR-1, but the Cerberus SR-2 had just been leagues ahead of the original. The debriefing room was bright and spaceous. The Tantalus drive core had been smaller than the original, but far more advanced and easier to look at. She had enjoyed working on the Hammerhead and the two YMIR mechs they briefly had, tinkering with their parts and improving their targeting and programming. And the armoury was far more expansive. Everything was bright and the people were nice. Kelly was cheerful and always willing to help, she had another quarian to talk to, and there wasn't an egotistical prothean gloating about how superior he-

But she digressed. The new SR-2 just...wasn't the same. The Alliance had changed alot. Cerberus had built the ship in the name of efficiency and comfort. The food, the size, everything...it was all designed to give them an edge, while also letting them get comfortable when necessary. But the Alliance was alot more focused on returning the Normandy to what it actually was: a fully functional warship with stealth capabilities. All things considered though, the Normandy was no longer a frigate as much as it was a fast moving cruiser-dreadnought. The SR-2 was far larger than a standard Alliance frigate, and far outweighed the weight requirements for a vessel of that classification. It was bigger than a destroyer, but didn't have the weight of a cruiser, but was close enough for it to be a fair designation. And the firepower and shielding it possessed not only matched a dreadnought, it surpassed it. Especially when you considered the Normandy effectively carried the main gun of a  _Reaper_.

And with bringing the Normandy back in line with Alliance regulations and conventions regarding warship design according to the Systems Alliance Charter, they had done more than just 'switch things around.' The Alliance had completely changed the ship, most of which Tali hated. The ship was much darker now, with most of the lighting toned down. Apparently it had been worse before, as the ship had been forced to leave Earth before retrofits were completed, meaning cabling left hanging, faulty and dim lighting, and other such things. Luckily, the retrofits had since been completed, although the lighting was still dimmer than beforehand. The tech lab had been switched around (for whatever reason), and the debriefing room moved to the tech lab's old position, and a War Room added. And with the armoury squeezed into the shuttle bay, it was much smaller.

The new faces were also...well, new. Tali hadn't known James Vega that long, Steve Cortez seemed nice enough, and Samantha Traynor...well, apart from sharing a similar love of tech, she didn't know the woman well enough to be friends with her. That, and while some of the faces from the SR-2 were familiar, alot of them were new Alliance personnel of the likes she had never seen before.

And with the many changes on the Normandy, there was only one that absolutely  _pissed_ Tali off.

_THEY'VE MESSED WITH MY CONSOLE!_

Finally fed up with knowing that all her settings had been reset, she growled and slammed her hands against the console. The holographic interface fizzed and popped, before the image was restored to normal. The sound was so loud that Ken stopped teasing Gabby to turn to face her, a grin still plastered on his face. Adams had turned from his datapad, having been running a systems diagnostic, looking at her with a frown.

"Is everything alright Tali?" Adams asked, worried.

The quarian couldn't to shake as she seethes, gripping the console so tightly that her muscles were tensing. She gritted her teeth, as she looked blankly at the screen. Eventually, coming back to her senses, she looked at Adams, shaking her head.  _Fellow engineers...they'll understand._

"Alright?  _Alright_?" she hadn't intended for her voice to sound so  _venomous_ , but for reasons she couldn't explain, this change had  _infuriated_ her, " _My_ console has been tampered with! All the core default settings have been reset! Do you realize how  _hard_ it was for me to change the  _English_ to  _Khelish_? Do you realize how many tweaks I had to make so that the system ran smoothly? How much space I had to clear to make the system run faster and smoother? How much junk data and useless folders I had to delete just so I could store things? And then there's my music! I had  _hundreds_ of tracks uploaded to this terminal so that I could listen to them while working! All my calculations I made so that this engine room ran at peak effiency is  _all gone_!"

There was silence for a few moments as her rant concluded, the quarian taking deep breaths as she fixed Adams with a look of absolute  _frustration._ Why she felt the need to filter this at Adams was beyond her, as the chief engineer had done nothing to her of substance.  _He_ certainly hadn't changed the settings. For all Tali knew, some Alliance  _kush'ka_ believing himself to be an engineer had done it during the retrofits!

Eventually, Gabby coughed to clear her throat, looking at Tali uncertainly, and almost flinching when Tali's look switched to her, "I...uh...um...well...maybe it was done during the retrofits?"

Tali just snarled, turning back to her console as she slammed a closed fist against it, "That engineer is lucky he's not here. The Reapers are  _nothing_  compared to what I would have done with him," quickly, and without thinking, "Gabby, I want you to search your console for any ghost data that might have survived the purging of this console. Ken, instead of laughing and giggling like you usually do, you can run a diagnostic on starboard drive core energy bleed stabilizer. The sound is off; most likely because you haven't  _maintained it properly_ ," she spun to look at Ken, arms crossed as she narrowed her eyes in a glare, "How  _long_ has it been since you ran  _proper_  maintenance?"

"Well...uh..." Ken stuttered, looking flustered as he looked to Gabby for support. He got none, the redhead human meekly smiling as she looked at her console, pretending not to notice Ken's pleading look. With his colleague not helping him, he turned back to Tali, laughing half-heartedly at her, wracking his brain for an answer, "Well...it was...um...well, I haven't run a maintenance check...since..." he met her eyes, and she knew that  _he_ knew that he was lucky that her mask was on, otherwise she would have seen the  _fury_ in her eyes. Knowing his life rested on the answer, he quickly blurted out an answer, "...since Grissom Academy?"

Tali, like she was coddling a child, responded slowly as she moved closer, closing the distance rapidly, arms at her sides and fists clenched, "And how. Long ago. Was  _that_?" Finishing her sentence, she stood before him. Ken was only slightly shorter than she was, giving her a slight height advantage as she looked at him. He did not fail to notice her rigid posture.

Before he could speak though, Gabby stepped in to Ken's rescue, coming to stand at his side, but looking alot less terrifed than he did, "Close to a month ago now...ma'am."

Tali's eyes simply widened, "That's unacceptable! When I come in here and work with you, I expect you to run at peak efficiency! Now, I've not only found my console totally purged and in need of tweaking once more to get it back to my liking so that I can  _actually_ use it, but found that you've been lacking in your maintenance duties! You'd think with the FBA couplings installed...wait,  _are_ they still installed?"

Ken quickly nodded, answering in his scottish accent, despite it being rushed, "Yes...yes! The couplings are still there! They are pretty much the only thing they didn't touch in the-"

Tali cut him off quickly and harshly, "-then  _why_ is it that you  _still_ can't maintain the proper maintenance schedule? Marcus got you those couplings to make your maintenance  _easier_ , not so you can not do it  _at all_!" Then she moved closer, her mask inches from Ken's face, the man audibly gulping, "Now...by the time I finish talking Ken, I  _expect_ you to be checking that energy bleed stabilizer, I  _expect_ the proper maintenance and I  _expect_ you to be working so fast that you put half a quarian engineering team to  _shame_!  _Am I understood_!?"

Hastily and quickly, "Ye-yes, admiral! I-I me-mean chief! I mean...ma'am!" He snapped a crisp salute.

Gabby was giggling now, and despite herself, Tali felt a slight grin creasing her lips as well, "Then why are you still here?  _MOVE!_ " Her voice echoed through the engine room, and was enough to jolt Ken into action, the engineer stumbling over himself as he raced to grab his toolkit, already opening his omni-tool to follow the orders he was given.

And within moments, he had disappeared into the room holding the drive core, sounds of the scot cursing ringing through engineering.

Tali turned to Gabby, and cocked her head, "You too, Gabby. I want an engineering status report on my desk within four hours. I want to know how the Normandy is performing before we-"

"-begin the assault on Rannoch?" came Adams' voice, and both women spun to face the engineer, who stood behind them, hands clasped behind his back as he grinned at both of them, "Of course, Tali. I will make sure she has them to you by then. Get moving, Daniels."

Gabby snapped a salute, nodding, "Yes sir. Right on it, sir." She then returned to her console, grabbing a datapad as she began to take notes, sifting through her history of system tweaks and repairs as she began to make a list.

Tali stumbled for words as Adams looked at her, that  _damn_ smile still on his face, "Tali, I wasn't aware I had been demoted."

Tali continued to open and close her mouth before shaking her head.  _You were the old section head, Shepard. Get a grip and respond, damn you._ Taking a breath, she responded cooly and apologetically, having worked off her original anger by venting it at Ken.

_Besides, it felt good to shout at him. Little bosh'tet deserves it sometimes._

"I am  _so_ sorry, Adams. My apologies," she replied calmly, just as she had practiced, "Its just...I was chief engineer on the ship before you returned, so I...guess I'm just used to running the show in here. I meant no disrespect or any-"

Adams held up one hand, still smiling, cutting her off as he chuckled, "Tali, far be it from me to push away efficiency. What you just did made me look like a fool."

That stopped Tali in her tracks, the quarian cocking her head at the man, "What do you mean?"

Adams leaned back against his console, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, "These two are excellent engineers, I'll give them that. The workload they manage together is more than the workload the entire engineering staff on the SR-1 managed to do. More more work gets done in here. But while Daniels seems to respect the chain of command, Donnelly does not. He's a bit of a smartass, and I usually have to whip him into shape before he'll do as he's told," his grin returned, and he sighed, shaking his head, "And you, Tali, just made him do maintenance by making him wet his pants. I've never seen the man so scared. Are you sure you're the same Tali? Not just another quarian with the same name?"

Tali laughed at the joke, rubbing the back of her neck, "No, its me alright. Guess we've all grown up alittle."

Adams nodded, his grin dying alittle, "Some...more than most," despite his morbid change in topic, he quickly refocused, slapping Tali on the shoulder, "I have no problem with co-managing engineering, Tali. Just, please...could you please let me know before you start shouting orders? You almost had  _me_ scurrying to do the maintenance. I tell you Tali, I think Marcus has done more than rub off on you...you're sure he's not contagious?"

Tali just giggled, turning away, "No, otherwise I'd have died by now. Explosions and what not."

"Comes with the Shepard name," Adams laughed, but then his grin died again, causing Tali to stop her retreat as she turned to him. Seeing this, he quickly elaborated, "The wedding. I should have been there. I owed you two that much. Seems like a spit in the face."

Tali shook her head, "You did what you thought was right, Adams. If I hadn't seen Marcus for myself, I might not have believed it either. You're here now, and that's what matters," looking to clear his head, she turned to her console, "Mind helping me fix the settings?"

Adams nodded, standing up from his consoles, "Why not? I was just running through the numbers on the ejector ports for the IES. Not much to do when we're just sitting around out here. Now, what did you want changed first?"

Tali nodded, the two engineers heading over to her console, "First, I need it changed to Khelish. I need to actually  _understand_  what I'm reading before I can-"

"Uh...Tali?" came Joker's voice over the PA.

Tali sighed, looking up with a look of exasperation as Adams chuckled, "What is it, Joker?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a shuttle about to dock. The quarian admiralty is onboard."

"And you're telling me this...why? Just because I'm an admiral doesn't mean I need to be informed everytime they move to this ship."

"Uh...because there's an extra person onboard who explicitly wants to talk with  _you._ "

Tali frowned, Adams simply shrugging. With a sigh, she nodded, "Thank you, Joker. Tell them I'll meet them when they dock."

"Got it. Should I send them emojis?"

"I don't know what that is, but if you send one to them, be careful it doesn't offend them."

"Yeah, on second thought, not a good idea. Besides, EDI might get offended." With that, the PA system was switched off, and Tali turned to Adams apologetically.

"I'm really sorry about this..." the admiral apologized again, but Adams simply waved it off.

"Don't you apologize once more," he dismissed, immediately moving to work on the console, "I'll change the language to Khelish, the rest you can fix. Sound like a deal?"

Tali just smiled, nodding, "Deal. Thanks."

Adams simply nodded in reply, "You're more than welcome. And I didn't say it before but...welcome home."

Tali nodded once more before turning and leaving, moving through the door and then through the second door, twisting to her left and quickly summoning the elevator. While she waited, she bounced up and down on her toes...a nervous habit she had adopted alongside the wringing of her fingers.

_Who could possibly be wanting to see me? Could it be Shala? Or...keelah..._

_...could it be mother? She hasn't talked to me in a while, especially not since this war started. Perhaps she has come to remedy that?_

She continued waiting for the elevator to arrive, growling inwardly in irritation at its slowness.  _Why didn't she just call ahead? Why wait until she's almost here to tell me she's coming? I'm supposed to just drop everything and talk with her? That's providing its actually my mother that's coming..._

_And technically I_ _**did** _ _drop everything...but only because I had no choice! We're in the middle of a war! She can't just drop by like this!_

_But she's here now...so I might as well make the most of her visit._

To say their relationship at present had been distant was both literal and an understatement. Meru'Zorah had persisted in remaining on ships far away from her daughter, for reasons that Tali most of the time didn't even understand. She had refused command of her own vessel, and despite Tali being elected as admiral, it had actually been Meru as the first candidate; considering she was admiral before Shala made her an almost obvious choice, but she had rejected this as well, with rumors stating that she had even  _endorsed_ Tali's appointment to the position. Of all the things for the woman to do, Meru had volunteered for a position in the Conclave as a representative for the crew of the Usela; a position that had been under alot of scrutiny and controversy, as the Usela  _had_ been the homeship of the traitor and exile Golo'Mekk vas Usela; one of the biggest and most hated traitors of the Fleet responsible for not only trying to sell innocent quarians to the Collectors, but for helping Cerberus infiltrate the Flotilla and orchestrate the infamous attack on the Idenna. An attack Tali was present for. Luckily, Golo had died during the attack.  _The scumbag deserved nothing less._

Despite this however, Meru had stepped up to the position. And she had done an admirable job of restoring the Usela's reputation.

The elevator arrived, and Tali stepped inside, quickly hitting the button for the fifth deck; the shuttle bay. As the doors closed and the box began its descent, she leaned back against the wall and lowered her head in thought. Aside from avoiding Tali like the plague, contact between them had been almost a fantasy. But while Meru didn't try and contact her, Tali was guilty of the exact same; neither of them were innocent of this. They had many opportunities to contact each other, but they didn't.

Yet again, it wasn't every day you found out the mother you thought was dead had actually been the Shadow Broker the entire time. Or,  _had_ been, at least. Meru had stepped down from the position after the assault on her base, and Liara had taken over, especially since Meru's "fake" Broker had been destroyed by Marcus. So, there was that. After Rael's death, Tali had been ready to move on in life with both of her parents dead...but then, seemingly out of nowhere, like a poorly conceived plot twist in a movie, her mother was not just alive, but in control of a massive information network. Go figure.

So it was no surprise that their relationship was tense. Especially since the last time Meru had seen her daughter was when she was a child, and she was now one of the heroines of the Citadel and married to a human commander. Especially since the last time Tali saw Meru was when she was "dying" of an infection. A "death" that she now knew to have been set up by Meru, with the help of Shala, to protect her from batarian slavers and her enemies in Clan Pelszaog.

So it really did come as no surprise that their relationship was distant. Nothing was as Tali remembered it. The warm love, the motherly care, the bond only a mother and daughter could have, her mother's wittiness and intelligence...none of it seemed to exist...at least not infront of Tali. Her mother had done nothing but go out of her way to distance herself from her daughter, hadn't so much as sent a single message to her, and the affinity her mother had for tech...something she has passed onto Tali...seemed to never be shown or didn't exist. Every single thing Tali remembered about her mother, and the rest that Shala told her and her father had implied, simply wasn't...there.

It was almost as if she wasn't her mother at all.

_Or maybe I've been living in a fantasy. Maybe my mother is just as much a workaholic and distant parent as father was. Maybe that's why they married each other; maybe it was auntie Raan just covering for her friend..._

Whatever the case, this development, if true, would be a strange turn of events...if it was really her mother coming to visit.

_Why now? Is she going to ask my forgiveness just because the final battle on Rannoch? Is she going to tell me how much she loves me? Or is she only here for the debriefing? Will she ignore me?_

These questions were all too eerily similar to the ones she used to ask of herself everytime her father had visited the Neema before Marcus' unexpected resurrection.  _Maybe she really is just a female version of father..._

So enraptured in her thoughts was she that she hadn't noticed the elevator had stopped and the doors had opened until a voice spoke, causing her to flinch from her thoughts back into reality.

"You alright, ma'am?"

After recovering from her reengagement to reality, she looked to see Cortez almost comically peeking over the doorway, one hand gripping the edge of the elevator door arch as he looked at her expectantly, one eyebrow tilted upwards. He was wearing his usual Alliance fatigues, his dark skin standing out in the dark blue and black uniform.

She quickly nodded, composing herself, "Yes...yes, I'm fine, Cortez. Thank you. And please, just call me Tali."  _Why do I bother? Even Kal still calls me that..._

Cortez simply nodded, turning back to the geth dropship he had been examining before noticing her predicament, "Sure, Tali. You here for the shuttle?"

Tali give a quick nod as she stepped out from the elevator, taking a deep breath, "Yeah, I am."

Cortez creased his lips and nodded, "They should be here any moment." With that, he turned back to the dropship, the second of which now took up a less-than-healthy portion of the shuttle bay.

Sufficiently distracted, Tali looked up to examine the ship. The Normandy was now proud to own two geth dropships; the first of which lay on the left, occupying the ground just below the second kodiak shuttle, which they had acquired from the geth super-dreadnought during their escape. The second Legion had recovered from the geth facility to aid its escape. Since then, since they obviously could not return them, the Normandy had elected to keep the two dropships, Marcus deciding that they would likely find some use out of them in the coming battle; after all, two fully operational geth dropships with advanced cloaking technology would be useful in stealthly deployments, and even Tali could see the strategic necessity of them.

The second dropship was currently occupying the ground where the first shuttle used to go, a shuttle of which now currently occupied the back of the bay, in the middle. The dropship was currently being analyzed by an overly enthusiastic Cortez, who used the torch on his omni-tool to examine the large vessel. A single geth dropship was thrice the length of a UT-47A kodiak like the ones the Normandy sported, and at least twice as big. Its cargo hold was enough to hold a company of geth primes, and the claws below it, acting like cranes, could carry seven geth colossi, or three Makos or even five Hammerheads. It was clear that the geth dropship, despite its armament, was designed for one purpose; deploy large forces of troops quickly and quietly behind enemy lines, allowing the geth to flank rapidly without using the terrain.

_The geth could certainly teach us alot about military tactics..._

But it was quite clear that the dropships weren't the only piece of geth technology occupying the Normandy's shuttle bay at that moment, and it was then that Tali halted her approach to the center of the bay and her eyes focused on the geth prime platoon currently occupying the back of the bay.

The Normandy crew had every right to be in awe, and shock, at the sight of them. Tali herself had no idea that one of her most terrifying foes would become one of her allies. But there they were; thirty geth primes, ready to serve Marcus and save their people. The primes themselves were an intimidating sight; they were taller than any krogan she had seen, and stood at about the same height as a full-grown yahg; smaller than a geth colossus, but much bigger than a juggernaut. However, it was clear the design of the prime had evolved quite a bit since the Eden Prime War; they had thicker armor, and instead of sporting the bright white armor they had during those times, their armor was now a a deep crimson in color. Unlike most geth, who had simple, mono-optics; a single, large eye encased in a large head, the primes seemed to have tri-optics; they had a single large eye like the other geth, but inside that eye were three, dot-like optics arranged in a triangle formation. These optics glowed with a persistent red gaze, and whenever the geth made the usual electronic stutter, it was of a deeper bass tone than other geth; more comparable to Sovereign's voice than the standard geth.

The weaponry of a prime was nothing to shy away from either; a single prime had enough firepower to wipe out platoons of of Alliance marines. Pulse cannons, sentry turrets and combat drones were the three main elements of a prime's offensive method of operation (or as Marcus referred to it in some odd human language, their 'modus operandi'); primes also had the rare geth ability to engage in melee combat, and possessed kinetic barriers as strong as that sported by M35 Makos, if not stronger. Primes were essentially the geth equivalent of krogan on the battlefield, and also mobile, two-legged tanks. To see thirty of them arranged in the bay was quite a sight.

Her eyes then landed on their leader, who stood out from the rest of them only because the geth was standing beside Cortez (or rather, towering over him), the prime's massive shadow acting as a blanket over the pilot. The prime was likely there to answer whatever questions Cortez had while Legion was conversing with EDI or what not.

It had named itself Moses; after a human religious figure, apparently. Just like Legion. Whether this was going to become a point of habit for the geth from now on, she didn't know, but at the current moment, it didn't matter; the alternative was calling it 'geth' or by its platform number, which just wouldn't cut it in combat or...anywhere for that matter. Moses was the same as the other primes, with the same looks and weapons...the only reason they could even tell it apart was because whenever its name popped up, it was the only one to react.

Not that it would matter; once the crisis was over, Moses and its platoon would likely return to its people and join the war effort, and they would never see it again.

The reason Tali had a problem with these geth primes was that the admiralty board did not know about them yet. When the dropship arrived to board the Normandy, it had been under cloak so that the Migrant Fleet didn't get trigger-happy and immediately destroy them. Because of this, the admirals were unaware that the Normandy even had a second dropship in their arsenal; let alone a platoon of geth primes. They were going to  _freak out_ when they saw them...

_When Gerrel sees them..._

Marcus had agreed to lift the ban barring Gerrel from boarding the Normandy for the purposes of the meeting. It was clear that this would be the final confrontation of their short-lived war with the geth, and that they would need everyone at the briefing to ensure everyone knew the plan (whatever it was); this meant Gerrel had to be present. Whether for Marcus to emphasize the necessity of  _not_ firing upon your allies or not, he had allowed Gerrel's presence; although Tali could tell he didn't like it. He obviously had still not forgiven Gerrel for his little stunt, and for what it was worth, Tali hadn't either. And she doubted that Gerrel had gotten over Marcus 'dealing' with him after the raid, especially in a way that humiliated him infront of the admiralty board. Gerrel was bound to still be angry; not that it mattered. As stupid as the man could be sometimes, she knew he wasn't about to let his anger endanger his people; after all, his whole reason for destroying the super-dread was to protect his people and end a serious threat to them.

_He's still a bosh'tet though..._

Suddenly, EDI's voice shook her from her thoughts, and she ripped her gaze away from the prime platoon to watch the shuttle bay door opening, and the mass effect anti-vacuum shield whizz into existence, "Admiralty shuttle has arrived has been cleared for dock. All hands present, stand clear."

Before she could move forward, she heard the door behind her open, and turned to watch as Marcus walked out, looking much better after the events that transpired back on Rannoch.

His eyes met hers instantly, and he smiled, "Tali, didn't expect you to be here. I just came to greet the admirals."

Tali smiled back, nodding, "Well...apparently there's somebody extra on the shuttle who wants to see me, so I thought I'd see what they wanted."

Marcus nodded, grinning, "Fair enough. Shall we go greet them then, hun?"

Tali just frowned, "'Hun'? What does that-actually, you know what? I don't want to know. Its probably just another human term of endearment, isn't it?"

Marcus gave a slight chuckle, shaking his head as he moved forward without her, "Sure is. You catch on fast."

As she watched him walk, she noticed just how... _forced_ and  _out of place_ his new demeanour was; it was almost as if nothing happened in that geth facility.  _Like he never admitted to almost shooting the man who allowed us to have a child...a man who trusted him...not to mention almost betrayed his battle-brother in the process..._ Marcus' reaction was almost out of place, although Tali couldn't fault him.  _He's got enough to worry about. He has an assault to plan; he couldn't possibly dwell on such things that are in the past..._

_But is it right for me to just let this slide? Isn't that exactly what someone who doesn't care would do?_

_I'm his wife. Its my job to care. To_ _**love** _ _him._

_So why am I just letting him put on that fake mask of...what?_ _**Normality?** _

As she watched a kodiak shuttle appear, its form gliding through space to head towards the shuttle bay's open doorway, she realized time was out for her to think.  _We can discuss that later. Right now...I've got a mysterious figure to deal with. Or rather,_ _ **not**_ _so mysterious figure._

The shuttle continued into the bay, coming to a hovering stop above the middle of the bay; an area of which, like EDI had instructed, been cleared of any lingering personnel. The kodiak was a dull grey in color, and its on its sides, where you would usually find the factional logo of the faction the vessel belongs to, was the image of a single quarian liveship, facing upwards; the insignia of the Migrant Fleet. The shuttle descended until it was just above the deck, its thrusters cutting out shortly afterwards, causing it to impact the deck with a loud clang. The engines died with a vibrating hum, mass effect fields dying...

By the time this sequence had completed itself, Marcus and Tali were standing outside the hatch, although they kept their distance; anywhere else, they were a married couple. Here, Marcus was an Alliance captain, and she was a quarian admiral. And when you were planning an attack, you had to remain professional.

The shuttle was a standard UT-47 model, so they watched as the hatch depressurized before shooting upwards on its Z-axis, revealing its passengers inside. Standing infront was Shala, followed closely by Koris, Xen and Gerrel. There was another quarian inside the shuttle, a female...one Tali knew immediately as her mother: if the purple veil and patterns on said veil didn't give it away, then nothing would.  _Well, that explains who the mystery person is. I wonder what she has to say for herself?_

As the admirals began to step off the shuttle, Marcus was immediately stepping forth, bowing in the traditional quarian manner, "Admirals. Did discussions with the Conclave go as planned?"

Tali snapped her look to him, and then remembered.  _Keelah, can't believe I almost forgot about those idiots in the Conclave..._

Koris was quick to alay their fears, however, the man's hands clasped behind his back in their usual, quasi-military mannerism, "It did, captain, although we only just managed to get the votes we needed. It seems the Conclave is more eager for action than usual."

"Of course they are," Gerrel snorted, arms now crossed as he glared across at Koris, his entire demeanour radiating  _hostility_ , although Tali didn't think it was aimed at Koris. Tali just scoffed.  _Stupid bosh'tet is still angry over Marcus throwing him off the Normandy..._

_Men. Always with their grudges._

Marcus shot the quarian a glance, and Tali saw the heat in it. The unforgotten deed, let unforgiven...Gerrel pretended to not notice it, but it was there, even if it only existed for the briefest of moments before Marcus recollected himself and turned back to the rest of the admirals, and nodded, "That's good to hear, admirals. The Migrant Fleet will have a role to play in the conclusion to this conflict, but it cannot be on the frontlines. You cannot lose another two thousand ships. And losing more than that is unacceptable."

Shala nodded, "A point we argued vigorously. But our people are desperate to return home, Marcus. Our people saw the homeworld from orbit for the first time in three hundred years, and they didn't want to leave. They don't realize that another assault will be the destruction of us. We are lucky that a bare majority managed to save the Fleet for what needs to be done."

Gerrel nodded, "Although they aren't exactly happy about letting non-quarians fight this battle for us. It should be quarian boots on the ground, not yours or anybody else's. This has always been our fight to end; the geth are our mistake, after all."

Marcus, ever cordial, turned to Gerrel nodding with a fake smile that even Tali saw through, "I understand your concern, Admiral Gerrel, but this is no longer just a quarian concern. What you do now affects the entire UGC, because the UGC is now the  _galaxy_. So if  _UGC_ boots need to be on the ground, then so be it. Whatever wins this war fast enough for us to get back to what really matters; destroying the Reapers."

Koris nodded, "Agreed. Its gone on long enough as it is. No need to prolong it."

Xen stepped forth, beside Shala, and gave her own, equally profound nod, although this one was slightly more eager, and laced with 'let's get on with it.' Tali just glared at the admiral as she spoke, "Yet we are prolonging it by just standing here. I suggest you escort us to your War Room so that we may begin preparations for this assault."

"Of course admirals," Marcus bowed once more, holding out an arm to gesture to the elevator, "If you will all follow me. I will assemble my crew for-"

"KEELAH!" Gerrel suddenly shot back in shock, his voice a roar as she reached to his side to retrieve a non-existent sidearm, "GETH!"

Tali closed her eyes and cringed. To be honest, it wasn't really their fault. The only place the geth primes actually fit in were the shuttle bay, so there was nowhere else to put them; but you couldn't exactly  _hide_ 15 foot tall synthetics with armor that stood in contrast compared to the silver and grey bulkheads of the bay. So there they were, thirty geth primes, standing tall and menacingly, all their optics now focused on Gerrel due to the admiral's outburst.

Xen and Koris had frozen, and Shala had crossed her arms as she turned to Marcus, eyes  _narrowed_ , "Captain, you did not tell us you had a  _platoon_ of geth primes on your ship now. Where did you get these units and why have they not attacked or tried to kill us? I thought all the geth were under control of the Reapers except for Legion."

Marcus shrugged, nodding to the admiral, "I apologize for that. It...slipped my mind."

Tali just looked at him with exasperation.

_The quarian military leadership coming aboard and he forgot to mention that thirty of our enemy's greatest units were in the same ship, let alone the same room? I love him, but_ _**keelah** _ _, he can be such an idiot..._

Shala was equally bewildered, but decided to voice her thoughts instead, "It  _slipped_ your  _mind_? Captain, there are  _geth primes_ in your shuttle bay! How do you forget to let us know about this?"

Gerrel just continued to blubber in confusion, head turning left and right as he looked between Shala and Marcus, almost  _demanding_ answers.

Tali was quick to her husband's rescue...as she seemed to do alot, "We recovered them back on Rannoch. The programs in those geth were saved by Legion and they've defected to our side. They're on our side, just like Legion."

Eventually, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, Gerrel stopped looking confused, his posture definitive and furious as he stepped forward, almost right in Shala's face as he narrowed his eyes, "You  _knew_ about this? And what the hell is a  _Legion_?"

"Shepard's geth... _compatriot_ ," Xen explained, dragging out the last word with badly concealed disgust at the notion, "And apparently our only hope of getting back Rannoch."

Gerrel's eyes snapped to Xen, his voice a growl, "You  _too_? What is the meaning of this!? Let me guess, the suit-wetter knew about this and was completely fine with it? That would be just like you, Koris."

Koris just gave a bitter shake of the head, "Gerrel, you need to open your eyes. These geth are a strategic asset. They have offered to help u-"

"They could be spies for all we know! Sleeper agents! They could betray us at any moment!" Gerrel snapped, turning to Shala as he stepped back, looking almost... _betrayed_ , "Is this what we've come to? Seeking the enemy for  _help_? And why the hell would the geth help us kill their own people!"

Tali stepped in, quick to elaborate, ignoring the slight figure of Meru standing behind Gerrel, trying to not be noticed as she simply listened in, "Because they aren't. They are working to  _free_  their people. The geth turned to the Reapers for help because we forcedthem to. And now Legion and these geth want to help  _free_ their people of the Reapers so that we can negotiate the terms of a peace treaty! The galaxy needs the quarians and the geth to unite to defeat the Reapers!"

Gerrel just looked at her in bewilderment. He stood there, utterly silent and rigid, not saying a single word. Eventually, he just shook his head, looking back to Marcus, and then to Shala, "I can't believe this. A  _peace treaty_...with the  _geth_!? Have you people  _lost your minds_!? The geth are the  _enemy_! They butchered our children, murdered the elderly, and levelled entire cities with our own  _weapons_. They turned against us, and exiled us to...to..." the admiral waved his hands over his suit in a rushed gesture, "...this! And now our children's children pay for our  _mistake_ , for their  _treachery_! And now you want...you want us to  _help_ instead of  _destroy_ them? You want us to be  _allies_ with them?" he turned to Xen, poking an accusative finger, "You are the  _last_ person I thought would agree with this, Daro."

" _Xen_ , Gerrel. Or better yet,  _admiral_ ," the admiral hissed back, arms crossed as she leaned back in lethargic disinterest, "And I never said I agreed with this, Gerrel. The geth are  _machines_. We are their  _masters_. And I will ensure that they return to being exactly what they are:  _geth_.  _Servants_  of the  _people_. But you would have them  _destroyed_ entirely, which hinders my work. So do not misunderstand my actions for agreement, Gerrel. This is an alliance of convenience, nothing else."

"You're stuck in your old ways, Gerrel. Fueled by hatred and misinformation," Koris defended, hands coming to his sides as he became more animated, "You didn't hear what we heard, Gerrel. The geth never  _slaughtered children_. They never  _levelled_ cities with our  _own weapons_  because those 'weapons' you referred to were removed from our hands in a treaty decades before! What you state as  _facts_ are nothing but  _propaganda_  fed to us over the centuries to fuel the people's hatred!"

Gerrel shook his head violently, "That is  _bullshit_. Why would they lie to us if it were not true?"

"Because they wanted  _revenge_ , Gerrel!" Shala shouted back, becoming more and more defensive each minute, "Our people wanted to  _get back_ at our creations! So they created this propaganda and indoctrinated our children into believing  _lies_! It is all true; Captain Shepard witnessed it himself! Everything we've been taught is a  _lie_! And we need to wake up! The geth are not the enemy anymore!"

Gerrel just snorted, waving a dismissive hand at Marcus, who had remained silent as the argument between the quarians became more heated, "Oh, so we  _trust_ his every word now, do we? The man who  _pretends_ to care about us and then  _colloborates_ with our  _enemy_! He is as much a traitor as Golo'Mekk vas Usula!"

Tali stepped in, standing right in Gerrel's face as her mask moved inches from his, "You will keep your  _dirty_ and  _filthy_ accusations to yourself,  _Han_! How  _dare_ you insult my husband  _before me_! Golo was a  _treacherous worm_! Marcus  _never_ endangered our Fleet! If anything,  _you_ have!"

Taken aback by her words, is eyes widened in fury, "You  _dare_! I have given all of myself to protect this Fleet! I have neglected my own  _unionmate_ , my  _grandchildren_ , and even my  _dying parents_ to protect this Fleet! Where do you think your  _father_ got his mindset from!?  _Hmmm?_  From  _me_! I was protecting the Fleet since before you were  _sperm_ , Tali' _Zorah_  vas  _Neema_!"

Tali's eyes only narrowed, "You think you can  _insult_ me? Where were you when Cerberus attacked the Idenna?  _I_ was there! Where were you when Cerberus attacked the Rayya?  _I_ was there! Where were you when soldiers were dying on Haestrom for data on a  _star_?  _I_ was  _there_! Your reckless actions during this conflict have done  _nothing_ but put lives at risk! Your  _stupidity_ has lost us  _two thousand ships_! Your idiocy almost cost us  _our lives_  on that dreadnought!"

Gerrel shook his head slowly, an action he seemed to have almost become instinctual, "For the respect I bore your late father, I forgive those comments. But Tali, you are making a  _grevious_ mistake," he turned to the rest of the admiralty, " _All_ of you are! I've read up on your human sayings,  _Marcus_ ," he now spat the name, looking at the human with pure contempt, "'If you lie down with the devil, you will wake up in hell.' The geth are nothing but  _machines_ and treacherous  _liars_. We will not sign a treaty with them, nor will we make peace with them! They are our  _enemy_! They will never be anything other than that!"

" _Admiral_ ," Tali hissed, and she almost swore she saw Gerrel flinch from the correction, "You will  _stand down_. Your decision isn't the people's decision, and if they decide that peace with the geth is better than senseless war, then that's how it shall be. We  _will_ make peace with the geth, because if the krogan have taught us anything,  _forgiveness_ is the first path to  _victory_. I thought being commander of our military Gerrel, you would know just how  _vital_ victory is. So you will fall in line, or be removed from command, but do not  _ever_ compare my husband to that  _filthy traitor_ ever again. Am I understood, Gerrel?"

Gerrel kept his pride, standing tall and buffing his chest out as he looked down at her, almost condescendingly, "I will not stand in the same room as those machines! I will not let them speak their lies and lead us into a trap!"

Tali's voice was  _ice_ , "If you want to continue being Admiral of the Heavy Fleet, you  _will._ No more games or recklessness; you're either with the quarian people and the side of peace, or you're against us. Your choice."

Gerrel stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists, before tearing his eyes from Tali's and looking at the other admirals. From what Tali saw, none of them backed him up; not even Xen. Shala crossed her arms and shook her head; a gesture Koris repeated, minus the crossed arms. Xen simply tapped her foot idly, not even paying attention; she was looking at the geth primes that served as the subject of their argument. Gerrel, seeing no approval from his fellow admirals, turned back to Tali with a bitter look and a bitter tone.

"Very well," he hissed, "But my opinion remains unchanged. I recommend we change our course before it is too late. These geth  _cannot_ be-"

"I understand, Gerrel, and will  _respect_ your decision," Tali blurted out, turning away from her angered uncle and to the rest of the board, "Now if we may continue proceeding to the War Room, we can begin planning this assault and be on Rannoch sooner rather than later."

The admirals nodded in agreement, Shala taking the lead as she uncrossed her arms, turned and proceeded to the elevator, Koris not far behind. Xen lingered for a few moments, still 'admiring' the primes before she noticed everybody moving, and followed.

Meru hadn't moved, Tali noticed, but she would attend to that matter in a moment. Looking expectantly at Gerrel, she noticed him hesitate for a moment before nodding and quickly fast walking to the elevator, completely ignoring Marcus as he moved to catch up with the other admirals. Marcus ignored Gerrel and turned to Tali, frowning at her lack of movement. Tali, noticing this, quickly motioned her head to the still unmoving Meru, expecting her daughter to acknowledge her soon.

Marcus, recognizing Tali's mother, widened his eyes before turning to Tali and seeing the look in her eyes. Even with a mask on, Marcus could read her very easily, and her body language urged him along the path to understanding. With a quick nod, he moved to her and gripped her shoulder, squeezing it. Instead of kissing her on the visor however, as he always did, he simply whispered, "Don't take too long," before taking off for the elevator without a second glance, leaving her slightly disappointed.

She didn't allow her disappointment to show however, simply watching for a few moments as his form retreated to the elevator, unaware of his unionmate's inner crisis. But Tali was fully aware of his.  _I wish he'd let me in, and not just in bits and pieces..._

She felt a presence at her side, and she knew it was without them needing to speak. There was a few moments of silence between the two, unspoken bitterness compelling them to quiet until one of them could figure out what to say. What  _needed_ to be said. Tali just watched as Marcus stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, ascending to the CIC. Even EDI's call for all key personnel to report to the War Room was just drowned out noise.

In the end, it was Meru that cut through the tense silence, her mother's voice thick and accented; one of the only things Tali remembered about her mother that seemed to draw upon  _fact_. It was much thicker than she remembered; more so than even auntie Raan's accent. It just reminded Tali that her mother was no longer as young as she had once knew her; and it was clear her years as the Shadow Broker had turned her into a working freak almost comparable with her father, if not more so. In the end, Tali didn't even know she could distinguish them from each other anymore.

"The way...you defended your  _yol'tiya_ ," she began, her voice hesitant and withering, almost as if afraid to invoke her daughter's judgement, "...it reminded me of the way Rael used to defend me when I was an admiral. Always backing me up..."

Tali's response was to remain still and continue staring at the elevator, not even sparing her mother a furtive glance. Her fists clenched tightly, so much so that she could feel the fabric creasing under her tight grip. Favourable responses popped in and out of her head, but none of them felt right. None of them did  _justice_ to her situation.

"Is that it?"

When Tali finally acknowledged her mother and turned to meet the quarian in the eyes, the conclave member almost took a step back in shock at the sudden response. Nor had see expected the...the... _anger_ fueling the words. It was almost like they were  _spat out_ , like they were a burden or an obligation.

"W-w-what?" Meru responded, "I don't understand..."

Still looking at her with a cold, unfeeling gaze, Tali shook her head, "Is. That.  _It_? Six months of silence!? You weren't even there when I gave  _birth_!  _Auntie Raan_  was there, but  _you_  weren't! Forgive me if I wanted alittle more of a greeting that didn't involve being compared to...to... _him_!"

Meru simply gulped, hands wringing. She stumbled for words before looking up, shoulders slumping, "I was busy...you know that...Fleet safety must always come first..."

Tali just scoffed, shaking her head as she looked away, "You know, if father said that, I'd be annoyed. Because that's just who he  _was._ But  _you_?  _You_ are not  _busy_! You are not an  _admiral_ putting her  _life_  on the line to build me a  _house_  on the  _homeworld_  while endangering yourself to  _achieve_  that goal! You're  _deliberately ignoring me_! And I want to know  _why_!"

Meru just shrugged, "Its clear that you've grown up, Tali. You're no longer the little girl I used to let take apart my omni-tool to figure out how it works. Tali, when I saw you again...you were  _different_. And as the Shadow Broker, I  _knew_ about  _everything_ you ever  _did._  How was I to know you were going to save the galaxy from a rogue turian spectre and our mistakes? How did I know you were going to join a suicide mission to save the galaxy  _again_ two years later? How was I to know you'd become a  _marine_? That you'd become  _chief_ admiral of the Board? My little Tali...you've...grown up so much...and...you're a  _mother_ now..." She reached out with one hand to stroke her daughter's cheek.

To which Tali let her...to an extent. After a few moments, she flinched away, no doubt knowing the gesture would be like a slap to the face for the woman, but Tali needed to get message across. Stepping back, she crossed her arms, "Then  _why_? Why have you abandoned me? You're the  _only_ parent I have  _left_. When father died, I thought I had lost  _both_  of my parents! When I found you, I thought there was  _hope_! Instead, it might as well be like you're still  _dead_."

"Don't say that!" Meru spat, looking less meek now and more defensive as she stepped forth, "It  _hurts_  me when you say things like that! I  _love_  you and I  _still_  do! You're my  _daughter_! But I couldn't look at you and tell myself that!"

That last part caused Tali to freeze in shock, letting her arms fall to her sides, before quickly bringing her hands to her hips, "You...you couldn't  _look_ at me?"

Meru nodded, noticing her mistake, and quickly tried to repair the damage, "I...Tali, when I gave birth to you, I was the  _happiest_ mother who ever lived, I swear it. When they put you in the bubble, I cried. When you disassembled your first omni-tool, I was  _proud_. I knew you would be a great engineer! But I also saw something else...a... _spark_...that I hadn't seen in any other. I  _knew_ you were destined for greater things! But then...keelah, when I became the Shadow Broker...I didn't realize how far you had  _fallen_! I never intended for you to become an admiral! I never intended for you to become another cold-blooded killer like the rest of those soldiers! I wanted you to be a  _pioneer_! I wanted you to drive our people forward, not backwards!"

Tali was too busy processing all she had heard to even formulate a proper response, opening and closing her mouth. Before they knew it, their roles were reversed; Meru stood there, fists clenched, pose extended and defiant; Tali was speechless, staring at Meru like she had just admitted to a war crime.

_She might as well be. That...that..._

_..._ _**bitch** _ _._

A dark cold filled Tali's heart, mind, and eventually, her very veins. Her eyes locked onto Meru's, gripping them with a tight vise as she mercilessly bore through the woman's mask. Meru didn't seem to notice this, her pose remaining defiant...unable to detect the whirlwind of  _rage_ growing in her  _daughter_.

"You  _ignore_  me because I'm not what you  _wanted_?" she hissed, stepping forward slowly as her rant escalated, "You  _abandon_ me because I chose a different _path_? Because I'm an  _individual_? What did you  _expect_ from me? You left me alone with a father who had done nothing but  _ignore_ me since the moment of your supposed 'death.' I was  _exploited, used_ and  _discarded_! And now that you're back in my life, you think you can... _have an opinion_ on me?"

Meru said nothing, remaining still.

Tali ceased her approach, nodding as it suddenly became obvious, "You want me to stand down as admiral;  _that_ is the reason you're here, isn't it? You want your old position back, so you came here to tell me to  _stand down._ So...what? You can support Gerrel and Xen? So you can do without me? So you don't have to  _acknowledge_ me? So you can ignore me and treat me like any other bosh'tet? You abandon me and jump back into my life just so you think you can dictate it?"

Meru, to her credit, stood her ground, taking the assault, biting back with equal venom, her voice a growl, "You are  _better_ than this! You're not a soldier! You're not a leader! You're an  _engineer_! Why must you continue to pretend to be something you're  _not_!"

Tali stepped up until she was right infront of Meru's faceplate, "Don't  _tell_ me who I am. I  _know_ who I am.  _I_ am Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Slayer of Geth, Wife of Marcus Shepard, and Heroine of the Citadel! I  _made_ my name known! I  _made_ myself! I did all of that without  _you_! You weren't even there! And what do you mean you didn't want me to be a soldier?" Reaching down, she quickly whipped her boot knife free of the strap on her leg, waving it in Meru's face, who flinched back slightly, "Yes, you remember this,  _don't_  you? The knife  _you_ gave me! You told me I would save the  _galaxy_!"

For once, the quarian didn't respond, her head hung low in shame as she remembered the words, "I remember...I wasn't thinking properly..."

"Yeah, well you messed up big time, didn't you?" Tali hissed, sheathing her knife, "Because here I am, an admiral, a soldier...and I couldn't be more proud. You know why? Because I got to become part of something great. The people on this ship? They're my family. I've fought beside them and gotten to know them better than I  _ever_ knew you. You're...you're just a stranger to me. Auntie Raan was a better mother than you  _ever_ were to me."

Meru's head shot up at that, holding out an accusing finger, "Don't you  _ever_ say that! I gave birth to you, I nurtured you!  _I_ am your mother!"

Tali just chuckled bitterly, turning away, "Then how come you're nothing like how I remember you?"

And with that, she turned away, walking towards the elevator with fast, long strides, doing whatever she could to distance herself from the woman was...was...

_A stranger._

_Nothing to me._

_Who is she?_

_No, Raan is the mother I never had._

_My mother, as I remember her..._

_...is dead. Forgotten. She died of an infection. That's how I shall remember her._

And not the thing she had become.

**{Loading...}**

_July 10, 2186_

_1637 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Shellen, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Legion, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Soldier Javik, Major Kaidan Alenko, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor._

Had anyone told Samantha that there would be this many people in the same room as her at that one moment, she probably would have run back to her console at the galaxy map. She never was a...people person. Her mother had always thought her too...shy. She had even pointed that out when Samantha told her she was going to join the Alliance military's Engineering Corps. Apparently Samantha was the first Traynor to even attempt military service, even if it was only for her to get stashed away in some Alliance base to take apart consoles and do the odd bit of repair work and maintenance. She was no combat engineer, and she'd be the first one to point that out, but she liked to think she was a military tech geek, through and through.

_Mum never liked it...dad even less so..._

Her father had been a farmer, but he could he was prone to boredom; staying on one colony had been unacceptable to her estranged father. As a result, Samantha had seen almost every Alliance colony world there was to offer. She had been born on Constantinople and lived briefly on Earth, Elysium, Bekenstein, Fehl Prime, Eden Prime, Terra Nova, even Ferris Fields...

...and Horizon.

Dread filled her mind. Memories of past grief. News reports filling her mind. Hate filling her gut. Being put on temporary suspension due to conduct unbecoming. Memories of things left unsaid. Emotional breakdowns. Breaking up with her girlfriend.  _Slapping her._

She reached up a hand, curling back one of her dark locks behind her left ear as she shunted the memories aside, closing her eyes and trying to beat them back. They were memories that were still all too fresh, and reminded her of why she had requested a transfer here in the first place. Before, she had been working on an Alliance facility; Fort Kamchatka, an Alliance base established on the planet Antibaar in the Armstrong Cluster. The base was established not long after the Battle of the Armstrong Cluster in the Eden Prime War, having been set up by the Fifth Fleet to bolster the region against any further possible geth incursions. Once the war was informally declared 'over', and then ended officially three months later, the base had been retasked to the duty of acting as an 'advance guard' against the Hegemony, and became one of four forts in the cluster; the others being on Maji, Casbin and Rayingri.

Samantha had served there for most of her career...until she had gotten the news...

_Horror. Grief. Hot tears trickling down her face. Gazing blankly at the screen. The news hadn't registered fully yet. She felt hate well up...anger..._ _**sorrow** _ _..._

After that, she had been put on suspension for disobeying the orders of a superior officer. In reality, Colonel Versburg had openly attempted to insinuate that she couldn't continue her duties due to her... _sexual preferences..._ combined with her then-current grief. She had merely informed him of his stupidity, only for him to contact the Alliance brass and demand for her to be suspended. Versburg, being somekind of Alliance war hero for whatever reason (she believed it was only because his family were heavily political, and had close ties with a parliamentarian), got his way. Six months into her suspension however, to which she was going through therapy and seeing a psychologist twice a week, the Alliance brass learnt of...what happened that caused her such grief...and she was informed that the people...responsible...were no longer existent, and that the ship responsible was currently undergoing retrofits on Earth.

And before she knew it, she was redeployed to aid the retrofits on the Normandy. Never did she think the post would be  _permanent._

_Colonel Gerald von Versburg is likely dead now...Armstrong Cluster was in the Traverse, and the Reapers overran that area first...no way he survived..._

_Serves him right._

Still, despite all that, Samantha felt...out of place.

She was on one of the most legendary ships in the Alliance Navy, serving amongst the most legendary crew in the galaxy, and the most legendary man in the Alliance military...no, the  _galaxy._ She was sorrounded by the heroes of the Citadel, and some of the elite operatives any species had to offer. Whether saving the galaxy from a rogue turian spectre with an army of machines, or racing into the unknown to wipe out an entire alien species who, until then, had been so rarely seen as to be called a myth. And here she was, among them, just...standing there, washing she  _wasn't._

She didn't... _belong_ here. She was just some tech specialist who just happened to be reposted to the ship before a massive invasion of Earth forced her to tag along. She hadn't helped anything besides occassionally talk with EDI, an experience of which left her slightly hotter than it should, and run systems diagnostics. Miss Chambers was nice enough, but she hardly knew the woman, and didn't even have the first clue how to be a yeoman...

She lived an average life. A colony-jumper; her mother worked in a hospital and her father was a full-time farmer; they lived off the land and that was it. Her father hadn't been an admiral or turian hierarch or some crazy, insane scientist, and she didn't have any combat skills that would make her useful on the field. She didn't excel at anything that anybody else did, and she hadn't even seen an actual battle until the war started. Average in every way...

_I don't belong here. Not among these people. And yet...the captain hasn't thrown me off the ship yet. Why? What possible use am I? Tali, Ken and Gabby could easily handle my duties, and I can tell Kelly misses her old station...I'm just..._ _**in the way** _ _..._

Every nerve in her brain  _screamed_  at her to run and hide. That there was too many people around her...it almost felt hard to  _breathe_...

Being in the military had improved her fear of people, but it had done nothing to enhance her social skills. She was about as easy to talk to as a brick wall...and even then, at least the brick wall didn't stutter and say things they shouldn't...

Everything began to blur out of focus...

...and then snapped back into focus as Captain Shepard appeared amongst the crowd, having finished talking with Garrus, the turian turning back to the war table, crossing his arms. Shepard himself braced his arms against the table, looking up...

Samantha froze in near panic.  _He's looking at me...oh my God, he's looking at_ _ **me**_ _! Did he say something to me when I wasn't listening? What if he demotes me for not listening? What if he thinks I'm incompetent! Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn! What do I do!? What do I do!? What do I-_

"EDI, bring up the hologram you and Legion have collated," Marcus ordered.

Samantha's panic subsided almost immediately, realizing that he wasn't looking at  _her_ , he was looking  _past_ her and at EDI, who stood just behind the comm specialist. Samantha chanced a quick glance at the robot, and found her eyes almost immediately trailing down to her large-

_Damn it girl, focus! No time for that kind of...thing!_

She snapped her eyes back to the table as EDI responded, "Yes, captain."

Seemingly using her mind (which wasn't far from the truth), EDI accessed the table and quickly uploaded the schematics to its holographic interface. Within moments, a blue representation of a large fortress appeared. It was a large, curved structure, with the familiar elements of geth architecture accentuating its superstructure. It shot into the sky like a massive spire; the hologram's real-world dimensions put it at 400 feet in height...and in front of it lay a massive wall, curved and sleek, stretching out across the table and disappearing off the edge...its full length too much for the hologram unless they zoomed out.

Along the wall and building was a fortress  _brimming_ with armaments. Ranging from gigantic, rotary plasma cannons aiming on a Z-axis, their huge cannons obviously capable of melting a hole in a warship's hull...its purpose as artillery undeniably obvious. Dozens of them lined the length of the wall, accompanied by smaller armaments along the wall itself; ranging from GARDIAN laser batteries, plasma turrets and the geth equivalent of anti-aircraft guns. It was clear this facility was built to be  _impregnable_ , from sky and land...

_And that's just a_ _**portion** _ _of the wall..._

There were a few exclamations at the sight of it, Shepard quickly speaking up once more, "EDI, zoom out for a full view."

With a word, the AI quickly zoomed the image out until a clear image of a portion of the former country of Poltane'r, the Great Plains spreading out along the hologram. And smack bang in the middle, taking up a large portion of the area (almost a quarter of it), was the geth fortress.

"Damn..." James exclaimed, leaning forward, the hologram's light illuminating his features, "...that thing is a  _monster._  We're supposed to break through  _that_?"

Legion, the geth that was apparently friends with Shepard, spoke, standing beside Shepard with its hands hanging at its side. Its electronic voice didn't soothe all however, as Samantha did not fail to notice one of the male quarian admirals almost  _bristle_ with anger.  _Not surprised. What the geth did to the quarians was terrible, but from what I've heard, it was deserved. The geth only defended themselves._

"We have known about this fortress-class facility for quite some time, but we were not previously aware that it was housing the Old Machine signal until now," the geth admitted, quickly zooming closer to the base until its form was all that could be seen on the holo table, the intense mixture of blue and red illuminations casting a dim light upon the room, "The entire facility is surrounded by 210 feet of a reinforced hybrid of 120 inch concrete and titanium bunkers mashed together to create a defensive wall. Inside this wall is a large network of combat platforms, garages and automated defense systems. The wall contains numerous defenses. At most, the entire wall contains 579 100 inch long-range plasma cannons, 960 automated plasma turrets, and 344 SD-class ballistic rocket batteries. Located behind the wall and around its perimeter are 107 long-range plasma artillery units, which are also capable of redeploying themselves when necessary. All these defenses are automated."

"Spirits," Garrus exclaimed after a moment, the entire room silent at the revelation of such information, "That isn't even a  _fortress._ That place has enough collective firepower to lay waste to dozens of Reapers. How are we supposed to even get in there? The anti-air batteries will cut us down before we get in range to even fire the thanix, and that's providing we get past those planetary defense cannons," with a grin, he turned to Shepard, slapping him on the back with a chuckle, causing Samantha to blink in confusion, "Just like the Collector Base, eh? No chances of winning, no hope of survival...yet here we are, planning out the next suicide mission."

_...are they always like this? Be glum, and then suddenly act like there's no problem at all? Maybe that's how they do it..._

"While hubris certainly does help..." Keeling spoke, the N7 standing in her standard issue marine fatigues with N7 stripes across them and her N7 cap, hair tied into a ponytail, and to the left side of the table, behind the quarian marine couple and Liara. She looked less than impressed, studying the table with careful analyzation, "...what it won't do is make cannons suddenly combust. What else do we know about this facility?"

All eyes landed on Legion again, who spoke without prompt, turning to Keeling, "The facility was the best geth facility ever constructed and has remained the geth's primary facility on Rannoch. Its construction began two years after the conclusion of the First Morning War, and was completed two years later."

" _Two_ years later?" Cortez spoke, arms crossed and pointing to the holographic base, "Look at that monster! That place would have taken the Alliance a decade to build, possibly longer!"

Legion nodded, "Organics are restricted and restrained by the need for hardware hibernation, known to you as 'rest' or 'sleep.' You are also limited by your body's physicalities, which you require other machines to fill. You are also constrained by self-addressed economical values, such as budgets, and you are careful to distribute your resources. We are geth; we had no such qualms. We were restrained by no economy or resource management, and we do not grow tired. A single geth platform is capable of carrying quadruple the weight an average human male can. Organics also employ themselves for a certain trade, meaning others not qualified to carry out these duties; this is not true for geth. All geth are qualified for the same duty; we were built to do so. All geth are soldiers and all geth are builders. With the billions of our platforms that existed, completing a single facility, even as large as the one you see, was not difficult to accomplish."

"Carrying on," Keeling quickly urged, "Any other surprises we should know about?"

"The fortress contains numerous sub-structures inside, including a large silo," the hologram zoomed in on the aforementioned area, revealing a massive silo, an equally massive gate-like covering ontop of it. All of it echoed geth design, "The interior of this silo appears to be the origin of the Old Machine signal. The silo itself is 170 feet in depth, and is built into the side of the canyon. It is 200 meters in diameter. However, information ends there. We cannot describe the interior or contents of the silo, as there appears to be a powerful signal jammer emitting from inside. It is not of geth origin."

"It must be Reaper," Shepard growled, "How many troops are stationed there? What resistance can we expect?"

It took a few moments for the geth to formulate a response, its headflaps whirring in thought, "There are 607,285 active geth platforms within the facility. As we have stated, all geth are capable as combat units, and there all 607,285 units are to be deemed a threat. Also, if deemed necessary, nearby facilities may send reinforcements via dropship."

Shepard frowned, "How far is the nearest geth facility?"

Its headflaps moved in tandem once more, processing its answer. When it was done, all headflaps ceased movement, and it looked directly at Shepard, "34 kilometers, near the coast of the Uma'waz continent. This gives them an approximate response time of 10.62 galactic standard minutes if forces are mobilized correctly in response to the attack."

"So we would need to jam them some how; at least long enough to get in, destroy the signal, and get out," Garrus noted, "And that's even if we need to get out. Knocking out the signal will free the geth, after all. But that's an awful lot for one squad to do, and like it or not, we can't take on 600,000 geth. Even Saren's fortress on Virmire wasn't this heavily staffed."

Legion was quick to agree, nodding, "The heretic fortress on Virmire led by Arterius-Spectre did not possess the defenses or capabilities this fortress has. The facility on Virmire was a prefab, hastily designed base, whereas this facility has had time to grow and be improved."

Garrus grit his teeth, mandibles clicking, "So we not only have to breach the base and jam their communications, but we have to fight through hundreds of thousands of geth to reach that silo, open it, find someway to destroy the signal transmitter, even though we don't know what it is, and then hope everything goes fine? What if they have another backup? Will the Normandy be able to even get us close? I know we got into the Collector Base, but the Collectors were arrogant, dumb and didn't even have proper defenses. The geth clearly do."

Samantha gulped, looking at them. _Is this one suicide mission they just aren't cut out for?_

_No! These people are legends! Noone can beat them! They always find a solution!_

"We could deploy a few platoons of marines to help you..." Tali suggested, shaking her head as she too braced against the holo table's edge, "But even with their help, there's...just no assurance you'd break through. The defenses are just too heavy."

All eyes landed on Shepard, who quietly observed the hologram, making no sound whatsoever. He didn't respond to what anyone said, simply remaining silent.

Eventually, he spoke up, "A squad or even a platoon couldn't get in there. But a small army could."

Kaidan frowned, arms crossed as he leaned against the table, standing on Samantha's left, "A small army? I doubt throwing every single quarian at this problem will solve it, Marcus. And that lose more lives than is necessary. There must be another way."

Shepard nodded, "I never said we were sending in quarians. No, this mission has gotten too out of hand. The quarians can't help because of the blockade, any marines they sent would be cut to pieces and the casualities would be too high and the quarians just don't possess enough ground ordnance to breach that base. The Normandy can't bomb it from orbit because dropping our stealth would leave us vulnerable to those planetary defense cannons, which leaves only one option; a full frontal assault, something which our squad couldn't do, even if it were back to full strength like during the Collector campaign. No, I'm calling the UGC for backup on this one."

Gerrel was quick to object, "Now wait just a minute! This is  _our_  fight! We don't need further-"

Shepard shot the man a glare that instantly silenced him, "If you want Rannoch back Gerrel, you're going to have to work with me here. Shove aside your pride and accept help when you need it. We're going to need nothing less than a small army to breach that base, and only the UGC possesses the resources to make that happen."

"Can the UGC spare the men?" Kaidan asked.

"They'll have to," Shepard stated simply, "The geth and quarians are bloody game-changers, Kaidan. One has the biggest fleet in the galaxy, and the other has the most advanced technology. Combining the powers of both would almost make any previous assets we've acquired redundant or otherwise irrelevant. No, that signal needs to go. Hackett sees that, and I know the military board will have to see that. I'm going to make the call."

Gerrel snorted, arms crossed as he just chuckled harshly, "And you still  _insist_ on an alliance between my people and the geth. You're delusional, Shepard."

Tali was quick to shut the man up, "Unless you have something constructive to add Gerrel, stop talking. Your arrogance does not help your case."

Despite clearly wanting to object further, Gerrel ceased to talk as she instructed, most likely knowing his limits. Without further obstruction from the rest of them, Shepard nodded and straightened himself, "I won't be long. Admirals, feel free to ask Legion whatever questions you might have pertaining to the mission," he then turned to EDI, "EDI, work with Traynor and figure out how to jam the geth transmissions. We need to be able to jam it long enough that we can finish the mission without having to worry about the geth response."

"Very well, Marcus," EDI acknowledged. Samantha just watched as Shepard moved up the steps and left the room. She eventually managed to tear her eyes from him to look at EDI, dreading what was to come.

_Just another defining moment in history...we cured the genophage, we can save the geth...right?_

Samantha Traynor wished she was as confident as the rest of them.

**"The Liberation of Rannoch is known as the defining moment in quarian history. After all, it was the day we got our homeworld back."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"So much so that our exile from it is just a distant memory. Only myself, and a few other quarians even remember the Migrant Fleet."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"So I'm guessing you got the UGC reinforcements you wanted? And all went according to plan?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Somewhat. We got our reinforcements but...things got out of hand. The signal was more than what we...expected."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**"Finally, ArchReaper! We can't survive these long waits!" Well, I'm back! And with my return, a new chapter. And yes, the next chapter will be the first of the multi-part "Keelah Re'lai" chapters depicting Priority: Rannoch. And trust me, this'll be my most epic chapter yet. I have gone all out on this one, and I can promise you this: you will NOT be disappointed.** _

_**For those who wanted a verbatim ME3 novelization story, leave now. As of now, the only thing remotely "verbatim" about this story is the missions. Omega DLC, Leviathan DLC, Citadel DLC, Thessia, Horizon, Cerberus HQ, Earth...they will all happen, but in my own, improved way...and believe me, I could have made a NOVEL with the amount of planning and writing I've got jotted down for the final battle on Earth. But that's another story. Just don't expect lines to be ripped from the game anymore; as of now, this is my story with my own original decisions, and I'm sticking to it. And I'll start with Rannoch.** _

_**Now, I'll try my best to get the first part out before the 9th, but no promises. Between the 9th and 18th of January I will be going to Philip Island and therefore will not have internet to post anything. THIS DOES NOT MEAN I WILL STOP WORKING HOWEVER. I will fit in writing where I can, but I will not actually be able to post anything until I get back. So like I said; I'll try and get part 1 out as soon as possible, but if it doesn't happen, you can definitely expect it sometime after the 18th.** _

_**Until then, have a good one, and have a Happy New Year! And yes, I just realized! This is IV: Holocaust's third year! Its been a long run, huh? This fanfic started on July 13, 2014. Its been a long ride.** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	52. Keelah Re'lai, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Migrant Fleet and UGC launch a joint offensive against the geth fortress on Rannoch: neither side holds back any punches.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY:**

**KEELAH RE'LAI PART ONE**

_July 14, 2186_

_1135 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Haestrom, Dholen System, Far Rim Cluster._

_Second Morning War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI._

Relaxed. Calm. Ready. Prepared. Bloodthirsty. Self-confident. Ready to dive into battle.

All things that Marcus was feeling at the moment as he looked out through the cockpit of the Normandy out into space at their new guest.

His hands were firmly crossed upon his chest, eyes focused on the salarian warship as it lazily drifted through space towards them, having just dropped out at FTL and slowed down to impulse speed to avoid crashing into the forty-eight thousand quarian vessels currently drifting through the orbit of Haestrom.

Garrus stood on his right, ever his XO, left mandible occassionally clicking as he too watched the ship drift towards them, but also exchanging jokes with their pilot, the turian's grin creasing across his face as the humorous battlefield intensified. EDI sat in the seat beside the pilot in her usual seat, hands dancing across her console as she likely communicated with the salarian ship.

Joker spoke, voice temporarily breaking Marcus' thoughts, "Okay...how about...okay,  _here_ 's one. How many geth does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"

Marcus rolled his eyes, answering before Garrus could respond, "Two. One to attach its face to the socket, and another to spin it around. You got that one from a quarian, didn't you?"

Joker sighed, leaning back in his seat as he looked like a kid caught in the act, "Kal may have told me, yes...but hey, it's a good one. Besides, its nice to see quarians have a sense of humor."

Marcus just shook his head as he turned back to the window, Garrus' grin grew in size, mandibles clicking in thought before he finally thought of a joke good enough to tell, "Okay, okay. My turn. What's the first order an Alliance commander gives at the start of combat?"

The frown on Joker's was noticable even as the pilot turned away from Marcus' side of the room to face Garrus, the pilot shaking his head in befuddlement. His mouth opened, and then closed. Scratching his neck, he turned back to his console, and took another few seconds to think through it.

Garrus' grin couldn't have been any bigger, "Give up yet? Don't tell me the Joker himself can't figure out the joke."

Joker just grumbled in frustration, "Hey, I'm the best  _pilot_ in the galaxy, not the best  _joker_. There's a reason I was such a joyless, cold asshole back at flight academy," eventually the pilot gave up, waving his hands in the air to announce to the world his forfeit, "I...give up."

Resting back on one leg, the turian just crossed his arms. With a chuckle, he replied, "Correct."

Despite himself, a small smile erupted on Marcus' face as he slowly glanced at Garrus.

Joker bit back his own chuckle, even if he did fail, the sound itself being audible enough to tell everyone he had almost laughed, and then turned to Garrus with a shake of his head, "You do realize Marcus is  _right_ there, right?"

The turian nodded, "I know."

Garrus mirrored Marcus' stance, their eyes meeting.

A smirk on both faces. A low rumble. And within moments, they begin laughing together, Marcus shaking his head as he turns back to the viewpoint, his thoughts completely derailed by Garrus and Joker's banter.  _If I ever feel gloomy and finished, Garrus will find a way to make me laugh._ Even his posture was less tense and relaxed.

Joker laughed as well, leaning forward slightly as he corrected a few readings on his console before relaxing again. The Normandy had been in a stationary position between a battlegroup of quarian cruisers almost the entirety of the time they were here. Thus, there was no need for them to move; the salarian ship, a Galisus-Class troop transport by the name of Course Decided, could simply come to them. And it was.

Having relaxed back in his chair, Joker was right back at it, unwilling to be beaten by the turian, "Okay then,  _big guy._ What do you call it when...say, a  _turian_...gets killed by...a horrible spikey monster?"

Garrus didn't even pretend to think through that one, looking at the back of the pilot's head with a look of utmost disappointment, "Friendly fire. Come on, that one dates back to  _Shanxi_. Every Alliance and Hierarchy serviceman knows that one."

Joker just shrugged, looking sheepish as he absently picked and fiddled with the metal of the chair, looking as if he wanted to anywhere but where he was now, "Well...you've  _got_ to respect the  _classics_."

"Not when they're  _dated_ ," Kaidan stated as he entered the cockpit, Garrus and Marcus twisting on the spot to face the major. The man in question gave the both of them conciliatory nods as he entered, sitting in the seat opposite his spiritual original. Sinking into it, he seemed to nod in impression at the 'leather seats' and folding his hands in his lap.

Joker turned to him with a cocked head, looking at him with rolled eyes, "Well aren't you  _boring_. I think dated jokes are very much still funny. They just have an acquired taste."

The major's response was a chuckle, Kaidan reaching up to fiddle with the controls before him, a small smile plastered on his lips, "Well, consider my taste buds utterly  _ruined_ , Joker."

"No Alenko without Shepard," Marcus added, shaking his head.

"No Shepard without Vakarian," Garrus replied, holding up an invisible drink in a toast to their decision, "We could start an anti-dated joke fan club. Should we ask Tali and Liara if they'd like to join? Not Vega; he  _loves_  his old jokes. Why else would he like the  _Mako_?"

"Peasants," Joker sighed exaggeratively, sighing with a poorly conceived chuckle. It was clear the pilot wasn't taking any of it to heart. Just four old friends joking around.

And speaking of jokes, Garrus puffed his chest and let one of his hands stroke the tip of a mandible, looking thoughtful; in reality, it was clear the turian was poking the confines of his mind for another joke that was either racially insensitive, rude or downright terrible.

_Like most of the funny jokes._

Finally, the turian looked like he had hit an epiphany, his beady eyes turning to Joker and letting go of his mandible, "How many humans does it take to activate a dormant mass relay?"

Before Joker could open his mouth, Kaidan shot up, head turning to Garrus with a disappointed frown, "Six hundred and two. Six hundred to vote on it, one to ask the asari for technical help and one to request a seat on the Council afterward...I think you've officially been  _banned_  from the anti-dated joke club, Garrus."

The turian looked stunned, mouth opening and closing before he finally had the decency to defend himself, "In support of myself, I got that joke from a batarian mook on Omega; back before the mercenaries knew me as Archangel. I couldn't tell if he was drunk or a moron."

"No one said those two were mutually exclusive," Kaidan drawled, turning back to face the void of space through the cockpit window, the quarian cruiser Ishkprr sliding by, its side burned and two ship-to-ship guns a mangled mess due to the last engagement between the geth and quarians. It seemed to limp; despite the amount of time the crew had to repair it, repairs were going slow due to lack of resources, "You'd have to be a moron to get drunk on Omega. Its unforgiving to drunks."

Joker, seemingly ignoring Kaidan's comments, sat up, rubbing his hands together as he began his next joke, "When do you know a turian's out of ammo?"

Garrus almost sighed.  _Almost._  "He switches to the stick up his ass as a backup weapon. I'll admit, the answer was obvious, but I've never heard that one. Your own?"

Joker just shrugged, "Hey, at least I'm a quick thinker, right?"

"Being a quick thinker is usually only impressive when it produces good jokes," Kaidan added in a-matter-of-fact way.

Joker's response was a grumble.

A second later, Garrus reached forward and gently squeezed Joker's arm, warranting the pilot's attention. Looking up at the turian, Joker waits as Garrus speaks with a raised eyebrow, "Why does the Alliance hire pilots with brittle bone disease?"

There was silence in the room. Not a word was uttered, and for a moment, Marcus thought Garrus had finally stepped on the wrong toe. That he had managed to offend Joker in some way. Garrus was smiling, and Joker was just looking at him blankly, as if seeing through him.

And then he suddenly spoke, "You're...you're...you're  _shitting_ me!" the  _shock_ in his voice was  _palpable_ , "The turian military has a joke about  _me_?"

Garrus nodded, retracting his arm as he smiled devilishly, "Absolutely. I heard it myself from a turian private back on Palaven. You made quite a name for yourself, Joker."

Joker simply crossed his arms, looking up skeptically at the turian, "Okay then...why  _does_ the Alliance hire pilots with brittle-bone disease?"

Turning to Kaidan, the turian had the largest shit-eating grin Marcus thought the man was capable of. He could have seemingly swallowed a planet for how big it was, "So that their  _marines_ can beat somebody in hand-to-hand drills."

Joker's voice was a loud whistle, the pilot twisting to watch the faces on Kaidan and Marcus respectively. Seeing nothing but smirks and a shake of their heads, the pilot turned back to Garrus, shaking his own head with a chuckle, "Wow...just... _wow..._ you're going to have to tell James that one."

Kaidan, as if in revenge, turned to Garrus with an equally large grin, "What's the hardest part about treating a turian who's taken a rocket to one side of his face?"

The marksman turned towards Kaidan with a shake of his head, arms crossed. Despite this, he managed to sound confused when answering the joke, "Figuring out which side took the rocket?"

Seeing Kaidan's nod, the turian simply chuckled, "Bah. Humans and their jealously. You can't help but admire my good looks."

"Good looks? I guess turian women have a terrible taste in men then," Marcus jabbed.

Then, out of nowhere, and  _totally_ unexpected by everyone in the room,  _EDI_ of all people spoke up, not shifting from her seat.

"I believe I have a joke of my own. I think it would be sufficient to trigger a humor-acknowledgement response," the AI declared, turning towards them with a smile. Despite being in a robot body, EDI had  _still_ not seen the necessity in clothing. Because of this and, again, despite being a robot, it made it downright  _uncomfortable_ when Marcus addressed what was essentially a naked woman. It had taken Joker convincing her to requisition synthetic skin, like the one Eva wore, from Huerta Memorial on the Citadel before she finally decided to return to the looks of the mech's... _previous_...AI owner. And until then, EDI would continue to look nude. Her 'breasts' would continue to look abnormally large (especially considering her frame. Realistically, her body shouldn't have been able to sustain the weight placed on her upper torso, and should have made her top-heavy if she was an actual organic) and her hips would still be able to compete with Tali's...

_I can't believe I just compared my wife to a robot. You're losing it, Marcus._

In the end, it was clear that whoever designed Eva's... _EDI's_...body had seriously gone overboard, or misread the blueprints.

_Or maybe the designer had a hard-on and decided they needed to sexualize everything just for their amusement. I knew Cerberus was full of whack-jobs._

Joker leaned back, turning his chair to face the AI with one hand allowing his head to rest upon it, "EDI? With a joke? Gee, we've seen how well that's worked out. But by all means! Amuse us, EDI. Work your wonders."

EDI, mimicking the movement of Joker, spun her chair around to face him, face almost blank and emotionless if it wasn't for that damn  _smile_ , "What do you call the captain's driving skills?"

Joker waved his hand in the air, looking like he was about to experience the greatest pain in the galaxy and wanted it over quickly, "Shit?"

"A terrifying concept," Garrus added.

"Fear inspiration in allied forces," Kaidan snorted.

Marcus just glared at each of them in kind, mumbling under his breath, "Like to see you drive that piece of shit..."  _I definitely preferred the Hammerhead. Weak armor, but speed, weapons and, most of all, fucking_ _ **drivable**_ _..._

EDI's response was deadpan. When she spoke, her voice wasn't her own, but a recording, "...nothing but a myth! One you insist on perputuating!"

Marcus blinked. Joker froze. Garrus' mandibles clicked. Kaidan's eyes widened.

Utter silence.

_Did she...did she just use a recording of Sparatus' voice? And how did she get a recording of that conversation?_

A moment for the joke to sink in.

And then...laughter.

Joker closed his eyes, nothing but fear of breaking his arms stopping him from slamming them into the armrests on his seat. Marcus' own chuckles were deep and contained, his chest rumbling with barely concealed amusement. Kaidan chortled into a closed fist, face creased as he wheezed. Garrus slapped Marcus on the back, having been present for that certain conversation, and the Spectre nodded in kind, acknowledging Garrus' confirmation.

Close to a minute passed, and they finally regained control of themselves. Joker's console beeped as the Course Decided's sent its final docking request, the pilot spinning to face the console as he sent said confirmation. Garrus turned with him, as did Kaidan, while Marcus just continued to frown at EDI.

"EDI, where exactly did you get a recording of that meeting?" Marcus remembered it well. It wasn't long after he had been resurrected and his reunion with Garrus on Omega. He had gone to the Citadel to seek help with the abducted colonies. Clearly, bringing up the Reapers in that meeting had been a mistake; even if he had turned out to be right.  _Never did get to rub it in their faces...properly, I mean. Yet again, I was above that kind of pettiness to begin with. The Council know they were wrong...no need to further show them that._

The AI swivelled in her chair to face her console once more, replying as she did, "While I still served the Illusive Man, I was tasked with uploading all hardsuit recordings to the ship's computer in case the footage needed to be used for verification, playback or evidence. Even after Jeff unshackled me, I did not delete them. When the Alliance retrofitted the Normandy, I remained in possession of those files. As of now, I currently have 21,612 individual recordings from the squad member's whose hardsuit computers I could gain access to. Gaining access to that particular recording, therefore, was not difficult."

Marcus nodded, crossing his arms as he turned back to the cockpit, "I see. Any other tasks the Illusive Man assign you that I don't presently know about?"

"He tasked me to save any extranet mail or messages you received, as well as recover deleted ones, and send them back to him," EDI declared, "He also ordered me to have this done for all members of the crew, including Cerberus crew. He wished to silence dissent and to ensure that any possible defectors and traitors could not leak the whereabouts of the Normandy or potentially jeopardize the mission. Extending upon this, he also wanted constant surveillance updates on all extranet search entries."

Marcus sighed, "Thank you...EDI." _She never fails to make something awkward, I'll give her that..._

"Wait, so he knew about everything I searched up on the extranet?" Joker asked, looking frustrated, "Ah! So  _that_ 's why my subscription to Galaxy of Fantasy was cut off. I thought it was a virus..."

EDI's response was immediate, "It was. However, it was not a player who sent it, as you originally perceived."

"Then who..." then, as if hitting some great realization, he turned back to her, eyes narrowing, "It was  _you_...wasn't it?"

The Normandy's AI was quietened for a few moments, and when she spoke again, she made no effort or movement to address the angry pilot, "I have just detected thirteen Normandy-Class stealth frigates dropping out of stealth, captain. The Britain, Beaugency, Teutoberg, Antioch, Carthage, Sparta, Pelisium, Chancellorsville, Tannenberg, Marathon, Guadalcanal, Inchon and the Abu Dhabi are currently holding position behind the Course Decided."

Kaidan's eyes widened, turning to Marcus, " _Thirteen_ stealth frigates, Marcus? What have you got planned? What forces did you have Hackett send us anyway?"

Marcus just grinned, uncrossing his arms as he moved to the airlock, "Enough for a ground assault. Let's greet our guests, shall we? Get in contact with the individual captains of those ships and arrange for them to be linked into the briefing."

"As if thirteen stealth frigates wasn't enough," Garrus added, motioning to the salarian troop transport that was now moving into dock, "That's not just any troop transport; that's a  _Galisus_ -class troop transport. They're named after the Battle of Galisus in the Krogan Rebellions for a reason. Turians use them for large-scale joint-Council operations due to how much they can carry. Their troop bay just by itself is the size of an Alliance Melbourne-Class Heavy Frigate. Its the same type of ship Kirrahe used to get to Virmire."

"Which is pretty big for a troop ship," Kaidan added, leaning back in his seat. They watched as the bulk of the Course Decided, which almost dwarfed the Normandy in size, came to the Normandy's side, slowed down and then came to a complete stop. Moments later, the ship momentarily shook and a loud clang was heard as two airlocks connected and latched. They had docked. After confirming the ship was docked, Kaidan turned to face Marcus, who had his arms crossed and was waiting at the airlock for their new guests, "Which means we're getting quite a bit of reinforcements. Just how many did you request?"

Marcus didn't even turn to him, simply saying, "Enough."  _And then some..._

"Sooooo...an army," Joker remarked, shrugging, "Well, it could be worse. He could have asked the Reapers to lend us a hand."

Garrus' smirk grew, "Wouldn't put it past him."

"I heard that, Vakarian."

"I sure hope so."

Marcus' response was a simple glare, one that quickly degenerated into a frown as EDI turned to him, speaking.

"The captain of the Course Decided has passengers requesting permission to board, Marcus," the AI declared.

Marcus creased his lips, licking them as his arms fell to his side. A moment later, a crisp nod, "Very well. Let them onboard, EDI."

Joker and Kaidan shared a look, while Garrus continued to smirk, even as he arrived at Marcus' side, arms still crossed. The two men faced the airlock, eyes fixed on its static green interface as they waited for the 'passengers' to board. They shared a quick glance, and then turned back to the interface, positions stiff and rigid. Marcus knew that Garrus knew what was bugging him, and he didn't really mind. Everyone who had bore witness to his outburst in the geth server hub back on Rannoch knew what was bugging him, but only Tali and Garrus knew to what extent. And so far, Marcus hadn't told anyone else. He was keeping the whole thing under wraps.

Something Garrus was clearly troubled with.

To his credit however, the turian didn't mention it. It did no good to question his CO just as the section commanders were about to board; they didn't need to witness that. What happened was personal, and Garrus would eventually confront him in person regarding what happened; just as Marcus knew he would. And when that time came, he would let him in.

_The secret is out, and now I owe it to both him and Tali to give them an explanation. The others...that's another matter entirely._

A few seconds passed, and what seemed like an hour. Eventually, the telltale hiss of depressurization sounded throughout the small corridor leading to the airlock, and both men straightened. Kaidan appeared behind them, hands clasped behind his back and head held high; standard parade rest. Kaidan had always been the more by-the-book soldier than the rest of them had been and, despite his relationship with Rahna (who wasn't even military), he followed Alliance protocol and regulations to the letter; more so than Marcus ever did. But whenever it came to strict military formals and meetings...Marcus was always a symbol of what a perfect Alliance soldier should be.

His hands reached behind his back, and clasped. He held his head up high. Garrus mimicked him, although he did it in his own turian way; arms straightened at his sides, looking dead ahead.

The hiss of depresurrization ceased, and the airlock shot open.

The company they had was quite a party. Heading the group was a female human soldier in the standard Alliance HYPERION-82 Powered Assault Armor with breather helmet on, but without the distinctive navy blue and black coloring; this one was a deep red; meaning she was UNAS, not Alliance. It was clear that she was no rookie; aligning the shoulderplates and left breast of her chestplate was a silver eagle with its wings stretched out and head tilted to the right, a full quiver of arrows grasped between its talons; the insignia of an Alliance colonel. And if her insignia didn't give it away, then her armor did.

It was clear that this soldier  _owned_ her armor. The right arm plates that aligned her elbow, right down to her wrist, were covered in scrapes and scratches, one of them looking alot like a bullet hole that was patched up. Her shoulderpads had extra pouches for thermal clips strapped along them, and some of the color looked faded, with more scrapes and scratches along the left side of her chestplate and right leg. And by the most definitive addition to her armor, and clearly custom, was the custom-painted Mermaid adorning her right breast, striking what looked like a defiant pose and a sporting a glare capable of melting a bulkhead.

Flanking her sides were two other human marines; both of them male, and distinctly Alliance, both wearing the HYPERIONs, both in the navy blue and black of the Systems Alliance military. The man on the right didn't look particularly bulky, but the two horizontal grey stars of a Major General and the custom-painted Elephant adorning his own right breast, looking to be stampeding angrily, gave away his military experience. The man on the left looked far more heavily built, the man wearing no helmet; looking at the man, he had cropped ginger hair, green eyes and a bushy beard that looked like it was only just avoiding breaking regulation in regards to such a thing. His eyes fixed on Marcus determinedly, and despite how fierce he was, he possessed no custom-paint on his armor and the grey leaf of a Lieutenant Colonel meant he was the lower ranked of the three.

The woman quickly stepped forward, snapping a salute, "Sir! An honor to meet you, sir. You have no idea what an honor it is to meet you in person, sir."

Marcus returned the salute to all three of them, nodding with a weak smile, "At ease. And the pleasure is all mine, Colonel...?"

"Of course, sir," the woman replied, dropping her hands, as did her cohorts, "I'm Colonel Marie Durand, 39th Mechanized Infantry Regiment, 6th Frontier Division. Admiral Hackett had my unit taken from furlough to be put under your command, sir. Me and my men are here to help you with the assault."

Marcus nodded, curiosity getting the better of him as he nodded to her armor, "You're clearly Alliance, but the color...its UNAS MC."

Durand nodded, "Remnant of my previous affiliation, sir. Used to serve in the UNAS Marine Corps back on Earth. Fought against the reformists in the Russian War of Independence; bloody stuff. I was on shore leave on Mars when Earth got hit by the Reapers. Admiral Netanyahu picked up me and my unit and offered me the same job in the Alliance; said I could retain my rank. I accepted on behalf of my men, and I took command of this regiment. Fresh off the Battle of Fehl Prime, sir. Ready and rearing for action."

Marcus nodded, "Glad to hear it, trooper," he quickly turned to the man on the right, eyebrows raised, "And you are?"

When the man responded, it was an accent the spectre hadn't expected; a thick Russian accent, "Major General Vyacheslav Farkov, the brass call me Slav Farkov because my first name is too hard to pronounce and too much a bother to write. I command the 82nd Heavy Artillery Division. My men are fresh; haven't faced the Reapers just yet, let alone geth. Some of the men here had friends who were part of the 212 on Eden Prime, however. They're ready for some revenge."

Marcus nodded, "Excellent, Farkov," finally, he turned to the man on the left.

His answer was an Irish accent, the man rubbing his jaw as he held a hand out to Marcus, one the captain accepted with grace, "Lieutenant Colonel Charles Cameron of the 7th Marines Battalion. Hackett had us posted here to provide support for the 82nd. My men haven't seen much battle sir, but we're ready to do our part. We'll get whatever you need...done."

Marcus gave a firm nod, hands clenching tighter.  _That's alot of troops...and that's only what the Alliance sent us. Which of these three commanders will actually make it out alive?_

"I have no doubt that your units will perform their jobs not only admirably, but with the utmost valor and distinction," he stated, nodding to the three commanders, Durand, Farkov and Cameron replying with nods of their own, "I have no delusions about our chances once on Rannoch, troopers. I have yet to show you what we're up against, but there can be no room for self-doubt. Before we even make atmosphere, you and your men need to be fully committed. This'll most likely be a suicide charge."

Cameron was the first to speak, Marcus already knowing the man's answer simply by looking at his face; stoney-eyed and firm jaw giving away his blind determination. Alliance patroitism...for better or worse, "I'm sure you've heard of the charge of the Light Brigade, sir?"

Marcus nodded, a ghost of a smile creeping on his face. He knew where this was going, "Battle of Balaclava, Crimean War. I'm aware of it. I also know it was a defeat for the British based on poor communications. It lead to British cavalry charging a well-prepared Russian artillery battery. The British were routed."

Cameron didn't stop, however, "How about the D-Day landings of World War Two? And the Battle of Fort Wagner in the American Civil War? Both charges were made with the full knowledge that they could die. But they did it anyway. And even if they lost, they gave it their all. They made the charge knowing that they were capable of making a change. And this battle helps us win more? If it puts us on the path to victory? Then, I say...what have we to lose but our lives?"

Marcus knew that the words weren't empty; they weren't brought on by a false of bravado brought on by a commander looking to make a name for him or herself. He said it with utter  _perserverence_. He didn't so much as  _say_ the words as he did  _believe_ in them. He was just as committed as the rest. Marcus could see that.

And as he looked on, Durand and Farkov looked no different. Durand looked as if she had seen this shit before, while Farkov looked murderous; no doubt the man had had experience with the Reapers or geth, and was looking for payback. Either way, there was no doubt that the three commanders were committed. And if a good commander was committed, then making their troops committed would only be a matter of words, a promise of victory and honor and glory, and their troops would storm the walls of that fortress, no question.

It made Marcus sigh inside.  _Just like Major Kyle did with me and my men on Torfan. Stupid scumbag thought he could end the Blitz with a simple charge; he underestimated the batarian defenses and my men, his men, paid dearly for it. Guess it really ticked him off when I stole his glory, wasn't it? There was no 'Kyle, the Lion of Torfan.' Only, 'Shepard, the Butcher of Torfan.' Is this any different? Am I the Major, now? Sending troops to their deaths?_

Durand spoke next, nodding, "I'm going to hazard a guess and say you'd like to see the other commanders, sir? We're only part of the Alliance forces the UGC sent."

Marcus nodded, motioning a hand to the airlock in a sweeping movement, "Let them through."

They did as ordered, and Farkov, Cameron and Durand moved to the sides, allowing Marcus a clear view of the doorway...

...which allowed him to see the two turians, salarian and the bulky, armoured tank form of a krogan marching down the airlock entrance. Marcus recognized them without even thinking; the left most turian, the one with the markings of a man of Taetrus, wore red and black armor of the turian military, while the one on the right wore purely black armor with the painted image of a white eye painted on his chest; a man of the Blackwatch.

The salarian wore lighter armor compared to his compatriots, but the way in which he carried himself meant he was undeniably STG. And the krogan...he was as heavily armed as you could expect from a krogan. Two Blood Pack Punisher SMGs were attached to his sides, a massive, thick helmet adorned his head, and his gigantic yellow heavy combat armor would likely allow him to soak up numerous rocket blasts. The man was a walking tank in his own right.

The turian, the standard military one, came to a stop and snapped a human salute, likely out of familiarity. Marcus returned the salute, and the turian introduced himself, his voice sounding older and more experienced than Garrus, "Captain, I'm Colonel Lilihierax Bergundus, 45th Mechanized Regiment."

Durand snorted, turning to Marcus with a grin that was almost unbecoming of small amount of character Marcus had learnt of her, "The trip was long, and we were sick of being unable to pronounce his name. We call him Li, sir."

The turian glared at her, and Marcus could tell immediately that the colonel was not found of his nickname, earned or not. Although Marcus had to admit...Li did sound easier than pronouncing Lilihierax.  _"Lily-high-ar-rax? Lie-lie-higher-ax? Fuck it! He's Li, whether he likes it or not!_

The Blackwatch soldier was next to introduce himself, snapping such a quick salute that Marcus didn't have time to return it in kind before the turian introduced himself, "Major Abrudas Desolas, 8th Blackwatch Company, turian special forces. Redeployed on the orders of the Primarch himself, sir." The man looked to be tough-as-nails, although it was clear he didn't have much respect for humans, given the way he seemed to...look right  _through_ Marcus. The captain just shot him the same in kind, trying to give an impression of extreme boredom.

The salarian was next, the man foregoing a salute and simply nodding, "Sergeant Solik Vass, 7th Infiltration Company STG. Operations Commander Kirrahe was made aware of what you required and we were all he could spare. He apologizes for the lack of promised assistance, but the STG is spread thin. He barely managed to conjure anything help, let alone a company. He hopes it'll be enough."

Marcus nodded, "I never expected the major to do anything more."

The salarian smiled, "Not major, captain. Operations Commander. Ever since his little coup against the Dalatrasi, he's been...very successful. The troops demanded he be promoted, and Wiks did more than that. He's in complete command of all STG operations within the UGC."

That drew a chuckle from the spectre, the man shaking his head.  _Kirrahe's done well for himself...from Captain to Major, briefly Major, straight to head of STG operations. Good on him. We're going to need men like him._ "Good. He's a good leader, and I'm sure he'll do well in his position of command. And I thank him for what little help he could send. We could certainly use it. A matter of fact, we need it."

Solik nodded, finally snapping a salute, "I'm sure if he could manage it, he would be here himself, sir. We'll get the job done. STG always do."

As if bored with the formalities, the krogan suddenly moved forth, almost shoving Solik out of the way as he almost  _grunted_ his name forth, "I'm Nakmor Torsk. I don't have a rank, but I have a full company of krogan shock troops at my back. They're worth at least five companies of those turians, and an army of salarians. Put me on the field, and I'll show you."

Marcus just glared at the krogan, not liking his dismissive attitude.  _I can't complain. Eager firepower is just that, and he's a krogan to beat. Against geth, they'll be a powerhouse. But I can't have this lack of respect for authority._ "Good. Just remember who's in charge, and everything'll be fine. I'm guessing Wrex sent you?"  _I sure hope Grunt was unavailable Wrex, because otherwise, I'll send this one home in a bodybag._

Torsk smiled, "Nope, Wrex merely authorized it. Nakmor Bycek, the Nakmor clan chieftain, did. I'm his second-in-command and his best soldier."

 _But not necessarily his best commander._ "You know how to lead a company?"

Torsk looked almost offended by the words, baring his teeth in a growl.

Marcus held up one hand, shaking his head as he caught a waft of the krogan's bad breath, "Save it. I'm not going to be intimidated, so you might as well save your bad breath for the geth. As long as you and your men follow orders, then we're good. The moment you do, I'll kick your ass. Understood?"

Torsk continued to growl for a few moments, body tense and fists clenched. But when he saw Marcus wasn't going to back down,  _he_ did, fists relaxing and body shrinking an inch as his teeth reset themselves in a grin. It  _almost_ reminded him of Wrex, "Chieftain Bycek wasn't wrong about you. He said you were intimidating for a fleshy, and you don't take shit from anyone. I can respect that," the krogan bowed his head, smiling, his hostility almost... _forgotten_ , "My men are yours to command,  _battlemaster_."

Marcus blinked at Torsk's sudden change in behaviour, and then smiled slightly as he raised a hand for the krogan to move to the side.  _He was testing me. He wanted to see whether I was the real deal. Very good. He was definitely convincing._

The krogan turned to the salarian, and glared. Solik wasn't going to enrage a krogan, even among safe company, and chose to move aside. Smiling, the krogan kept on moving, and Marcus sighed.  _That...that wasn't acting. I better keep those two away from each other in case they decide to kill each other. Even in this war, bitter grudges remain persistent. That's something that won't ever change, I think._

Marcus, hands clasped and the 'model soldier' shining through in his tightened jaw and intense gaze, observed the array of interspecies commanders before him. Three humans, two turians, a salarian and a krogan. He couldn't help but be impressed that such a force could be composed. In the end, Marcus knew that a salarian and a krogan standing side by side without trying to kill each other wasn't his own feat; it was the achievement of a man who was no longer with them, something of which was now attributed to him entirely.

_I don't deserve the glory or the hero worship. Mordin should. He put aside his opinion and did what was right; he made the turn around from typical salarian scientist playing god to saving an entire species. And only the krogan will remember his sacrifice._

Such a thing left a bitter taste in his mouth, a taste almost akin to the copper of blood. It wasn't pleasant, nor did it sit right. It made him want to spit. To growl. To scream at the unfairness of it all.

_How many more achievements made by others will I have attributed to me because I failed to save them? Remember the names. Always. Remember._

_Remember the names._

_Remember._

_**...serve us...** _

_Tarquin._

_Jacob._

_Mordin._

_Thane._

_...Peta._

_So many names. Familiar names...too many..._

_**...serve us...** _

_I must remember them._

_**...serve us...** _

_Never...they wouldn't want me to...I won't..._

_**Serve us.** _

_Never! Argghhhhhhh!_

He shook his head, eyes regarding them as if he hadn't just been through a cloud of agony in his own mind. Even as he motioned to the CIC (more specifically, the door leading to the War Room), the whispers lingered in his mind, a mere after thought, words that were not his own...

_**...serve us...** _

_**...cannot escape...** _

_**...ours...** _

_**...OURS...** _

_**...serve...** _

_**...serve...** _

Every day they got stronger, their influence more gripping. More damaging on his conscious mind. But he couldn't let them win. This war was more than physical for him; it was as much mental as it was physical. He would fight them however long it took, and if need be...die.

_I would rather top myself than let them seize control of me...to make me intentionally hurt those I love..._

_Garrus._

_Tali._

_Joker._

_Chakwas._

_Mum._

_**...they will be ours...** _

He ignored the after thought, nodding, "We have much planning ahead of us, gentlemen and Durand," he grinned at the woman, who simply rolled her eyes with a chuckle, "The assault on the geth fortress will be suicidal enough; we'll need a plan to make sure we get through relatively intact. I assume you've been briefed on what you know?" As he asked the question, he began to move, Garrus at his side as the entire group followed him down the flight deck into the CIC.

Li was first to answer, "Very briefly. We know our fundamental objective is to breach the geth fortress on Rannoch and neautralize the Reaper signal controlling them. That is all we know."

Solik spoke next, adding to what the turian had said, "We also know that the fortress is heavily fortified, more so than usual. Even with the force we have, it'll not be easy. Although I am confused; why did you not just requisition a nuclear warhead? It would be simpler to simply destroy the base than breach it."

Marcus nodded, "Yes, but there are...tactical and economical-based issues to worry about. The quarian leadership have made it clear that the planet is to be left as it is, which means dropping megatons worth of nuclear radiation will needlessly poison the environment. Also, there is a massive blast hatch covering the signal; the signal itself is located in a silo. Even if we did nuke it from orbit, the blast would only destroy the base; the signal would be unaffected. Those blast hatches are built to withstand the entire payload of a geth super-dreadnought, and no matter what nuke we use, ground or air burst, it'll have no effect. No, this requires a deft touch."

"Why are we doing this for geth anyway?" Cameron asked, "I saw what they did to Eden Prime, and I was in one of the first response teams to Feros after you cleared out the Thorian. I've seen what those bastards do. Why are risking our necks for them?"

Having reached the door to the conference room, Marcus hit the haptic interface as he replied, "I don't have time to explain Cameron, but I can tell you that the geth are not as bad as we thought they were. Even if they weren't, we're doing this for the quarian people, not the geth. The only way the quarians get Rannoch back is through that geth blockade, and with the Reaper upgrades, the geth will tear them apart; they've already lost two thousand ships. But if the signal disappears...no more upgrades means exposed geth armada. The quarians will rip right through them."

_Of course...I won't let that happen. But the less they know about my intentions, the less chance they have of succumbing to emotions and trying to stop me. An unfortunate deceit, but I don't know any of them enough to trust them. Cameron is clearly blinded by the Eden Prime War, and no doubt Durand and Farkov are in a similiar boat. No...I need to keep this low key._

There was only response, and it wasn't from Cameron; it was Abrudas, his voice gruff and devoid of any other tone other than bold stoicism, "So I'm guessing you have plan for infiltrating this fortress?"

Marcus smiled weakly, nodding for them to follow, "Something like that."

_Something absolutely...crazy._

**{Loading...}**

_July 21, 2186_

_1341 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Entering Rannoch Atmosphere._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Legion, Moses._

This entire plan...was  _crazy_.

But despite it all...he  _loved_ the _idea_ of it.

He reached down to pat the geth grenade launcher currently lying across his lap, popping the thermal clip out and slapping it back in. He repeated this motion once again, before finally leaving it be, flipping the rifle and racking the slot. He had done that fifty or eighty times during the debrief Marcus was giving in the shuttle bay...

Well, it wasn't as much a  _debrief_ as it was  _refining_ the plan...

Kal had run the plan through his own head multiple times. More times than he could remember. But what he  _did_ remember was that the plan was  _insane_ ,  _ambitious_  and  _perfect_  all at the same time. And Kal remembered every detail of it; where to go, what to do, who to shoot, when to do it, how to go about it and when to be a bloody hero and when to get the hell out of dodge.

_Humans and their catchy sayings..._

He allowed one idle finger to tug at the bandolier strapped around his suited chest, eyes fixed on the huge grenade launcher in his lap; his new favourite toy. The Centaur wasn't exactly an elegant weapon by any means. By elegant, he meant that the weapon wasn't your typical point-pull-and-die gun; it had alot more punch to it. Grenade launcher was just the name given to it; in reality, it was actually more of a cross between a grenade launcher and rocket launcher. The weapon was in line with standard geth architecture, with a sleek, grey, bug-like shape and structure. There was no real barrel to speak of; the end of the weapon looked more like a vertically aligned oval-shaped hole. It did not use conventional thermal clips or ammunition, and used plasma canisters as ammunition; a single canister loaded into the back of the weapon allowed it enough firepower to last an entire campaign. The weapon itself fired radioactively tipped plasma shells that glowed bright green when fired, impacting their target with enough force to vaporize light armor and, as he had performed when saving Koris, was enough to take down a geth colossus.

Suffice to say, Kal was in love with the Centaur. He had only depleted the plasma cannister in his weapon by half since he first got it, and Legion had stated that retrieving new ones was a simple matter of simply retrieving one from the centaur of a dead juggernaut unit. The canister was inserted through the back of the gun. Legion had warned him not to toss around too much, as the plasmatic energy within the gun was extremely dense, and that too much damage sustained to it, or shaking it around too much, would cause a chain reaction that would end in the gun exploding, and vaporizing Kal and everyone around him within a 15 meter radius.

Hence why the canister was inserted through the  _back_ of the gun, not the front.

_Useful information, though. Find a juggernaut, lure him into the center of a geth platoon, drop a grenade; enjoy the fireworks._

He patted the weapon again, and addressed the bandolier around his chest; 10 fragmentation grenades, 5 incendiaries and 6 EMP grenades. Marcus had told the entire squad to gear up for an onslaught, and Kal had; he had almost gone crazy on the amount of weapons he brought. He had a single Saber assault rifle on his back, two phalanx pistols on his hips, a bandolier of 21 grenades, and a single centaur resting in his lap. And that was almost nothing compared to what the squad possessed.

James was the most ridiculous out of them, even beating Marcus in the heavy duty department. Gripped between two tankish arms was the blood red build of an M-76 Revenant light machine gun, the particularly large marine wielding it as if it an extension of his arms. Wrapped around his broad chest was his own bandolier, this one loaded with thermal clips; another bandolier was strapped across his other shoulder, creating an 'X' on his chest; that one was loaded with almost every type of destructive grenade imaginable. His bulkish, navy blue and black Alliance heavy combat armor only served to make him look even bigger, helmet hiding his features behind a breather latch. An ML-83 Cobra missile launcher was strapped on his back, the white weapon looking fearsome to face down, an a delight to wield. And, finally (as if that wasn't too much already), a perfected arc projector lay collapsed next to the Cobra, its grey surface glinting in the shuttle bay's light, and undoubtedly ready to prove itself against the geth.

Overall, James was a walking, heavily-armoured, heavily-armed, tank. He had enough firepower to take out a squadron of geth dropships, and they certainly would need it for this insane plan.

_Its faster than a siege at least, but_ _**still** _ _..._

Marcus was not as heavily-armed as James, but looked about ready to put up a fight. He stood on James' left, opposite side of the makeshift table of Kal himself, but unlike James, his pulse rifle was collapsed on his back; instead, his arms were braced against the table infront of him, helmet visor illuminated by the bright blue light of the holographic map before him. His Terminus Assault Armor never failed to be a terrifying sight, with its orange lines and combination of crimson and black colors to fix with his Y-shaped visor. Smaller than James, but making him look taller than a krogan. The twin bandoliers across his own chest, packed with thermal clips and grenades, only accentuated this, as did the claymore shotgun on his back, his Locust SMG and Talon heavy pistol on his hip, and the M-920 Cain on his back. Overall, he was definitely proving himself to be a force to reckon with.

_He's a more imposing sight in his new armor than he was in his Blood Dragon armor. Keelah..._

The rest of the squad was ready in their own way for this battle; and by squad, he meant everyone. Madi sat on his right, on the same crate he was, listening aptly to Marcus' words as one finger absentmindedly tapped the side of her Usurper assault rifle. One pistol rested on her hip, a basic predator, but she had a bandolier across her chest for a couple of grenades and thermal clips. Tali stood on her right, standing with her arms crossed, geth plasma shotgun resting against the table and phalanx pistol also on her hip.

Legion and Garrus stood behind Marcus, both carrying their own sniper rifles; a Black Widow and Reaper respectively. Moses stood just next to Legion on its right, easily towering over the smaller geth, its pulse cannon gripped in its hands and looking down on them almost as if they were  _tiny._ At least, that's how Kal felt when he looked at the geth prime. It never ceased to make him gulp uneasily.  _Hard to get used to having it as an ally and not as something trying to kill me._

Kaidan, Liara, EDI, Javik and Kasumi were on the far left, being the least impressive of the group. Kaidan looked like your average Alliance marine; standard combat armor, avenger assault rifle and sidearm, and a simple bandolier. Liara wielded a simple SMG, with a basic vindicator on her back due to Marcus' insistence, EDI only brought an SMG despite such insistence, as did Kasumi, and Javik had his hands clasped behind his back as he always did, eyes seemingly scanning them,  _judging_ them...his weird, prothean particle rifle resting on his back.

 _Is he thinking about how primitive we are? How much we need evolve?_ Marcus certainly did recruit the weird ones.  _Am I weird? He recruited me. How am I weird?_

He was annoyed to actually find himself thinking about that.  _Weird is a subjective term. Maybe my version of 'weird' is different to his. Damn it, why am I even thinking of this?_

Kal knew he really should be concentrating, but considering that Marcus was literally just rehashing the finer details of the plan that he had announced earlier, he didn't really see the need. As a marine, he had learnt to hear the plan and memorize it perfectly; it was one of the reason he had managed to rise in the ranks so fast, and why he was considered one of the best marines in the Flotilla. Even now, he could recall the plan fairly clearly.

To repeat himself, the plan was ludicrous. Crazy, in that the plan had taken days to properly execute. Much to Kal and Tali's initial protest, the plan had heavily relied upon the involvement of the Migrant Fleet; luckily for them, it wasn't in full-scale combat, but as to stage a goose chase around the Tikkun System; Marcus hoped that utilizing the Migrant Fleet would help divert the blockade's attention while he landed his forces on Rannoch. To do this, the Flotilla wouldn't engage the geth directly, but would instead entice them into pursuit. The Fleet would then split into its seperate fleets; Patrol, Heavy and Civilian respectively (with Xen's small task force falling under Koris' ultimate command), and split across the system, hopefully splitting the geth forces evenly. It had taken an insane amount of threats from Marcus, and pressure from his fellow admirals, but Gerrel had eventually been convinced to  _not_ attack the geth forces; the whole plan hinged on the Fleet not returning fire.

Of course, if the Migrant Fleet relied on the Tikkun relay for transportation; it would take days for the entire Fleet to enter the system, and in that time, the geth could literally pick the ships off one by one as they came through the relay. The Fleet, back when they were actually winning, had known this and had instead entered the system via FTL; a maneveur that cost them precious time, but resulted in the Fleet entering the system at the same time. A maneveur Marcus had chosen to repeat; hence why it had taken seven days to get to Tikkun.

The  _Normandy_ , along with the other thirteen of its 'sister' ships, had arrived six days ahead of the Fleet to perform advance recon, remaining in stealth. Luckily for them, the geth blockade had remained static, with only a few ships breaking off to patrol the system for outliers, and that role had been delegated to the smaller corvettes and frigates; the main capital ships had remained in position over Rannoch. And then the Fleet arrived.

They had performed their duties as planned, and the Migrant Fleet was now leading half of the blockade in a goose chase across the system's rim and, in Koris' case, out of the system entirely. And the geth had pursued willy-nilly, apparently having grown impatient enough to pursue.

_Apparently those upgrades have allowed the geth to feel impatience. I wonder how that feels for 'em. Is that really an upgrade if they're impatient? Impatience leads to tactical errors. Like the one they're making right now._

So, with around fifteen thousand geth ships breaking off in pursuit of the Migrant Fleet, that left a massive gap in the geth blockade that, say, fourteen  _Normandy_ -Class stealth frigates with ground forces to deploy under stealth could exploit. Which they were doing right now.

The plan was simple, yet crazy. While the Fleet kept most of the geth fleet busy (which meant fewer reinforcements once they realized their base was under attack), the stealth frigates would deploy their forces into the cannon via orbital vehicle drops; Marcus' squad would deploy via the Mako, and lead the assault. Joining them also was a platoon of quarian skylord commandos, of which Gerrel had insisted participate in the assault; he did this by stating he would pull out his forces if disagreed upon. Marcus had agreed and, almost as if out of childish spite, immediately assigned them to the geth dropship Moses and its platoon would be using to deploy.

_Marcus is a mean bosh'tet, but I guess the admiral was asking for it._ _**My** _ _kind of bosh'tet, then._

The vehicles would deploy within the canyon, flanked by both geth dropships, and immediately launch an assault on the northern wall of the geth fortress; according to Legion, it was the only part of the base directly approachable via open ground, and because of this, was the most heavily-defended against ground units. Thankfully, Marcus had planned for that. Even as the Normandy descended, Farkov's artillery division was deploying at the rear of their assault column, and once in position, would unleash a hail of fire upon the geth fortifications, with the hope that the fire will be heavy enough to pacify most of the defenses before the ground force is in range.

_That's the hope._

The ground forces would then reach the base, and once inside, things got sticky. The Alliance 39th and turian 45th would remain to protect their rear from geth assault, as well as secure their position against the inevitable geth reinforcements. Moses' dropships would pepper geth positions before deploying their platoon and the quarian marines, and proceeding towards the signal from the east, while Marcus and the Blackwatch approached from the south. The STG company would quietly infiltrate the base and sabotage whatever they could to hamper the geth response and base defense. Their eventual plan to reach the overwatch command center, open the silo, and then all forces, aside from the 39th and 45th, would approach the signal. Torsk's krogan would link up with the eastern front, and Marcus would call in an airstrike on the signal. The  _Normandy_  would swoop in, and end the war in one fell-swoop.

And then it would all be over.

It was ambitious plan; and it required utter cooperation. The fact that quarian special forces had to work alongside a platoon of their archenemies didn't help things, but Marcus seemed confident it would work. Perhaps he was attempting to lessen the blow when he officially brought the quarians and geth to the negoitation table, or maybe he was trying to sow the union even as the battle went on.

_Who knows? But if anyone can pull it off, Marcus can. What he did at Tali's trial...and the rumors of the krogan and turians working together on Palaven...leaves no doubt in my mind he can make my people work with the geth. We're going to need to when the Migrant Fleet is sent off to the fight the Reapers._

The thought of fighting an enemy like the Reapers left Kal feeling giddy; he was a hardened soldier, but from what he had heard, coupled with having fought the husks and Collectors...he knew what awaited the quarian military. They not only needed the geth, but having them would be key to success. The quarians would just be incapable of deploying large-scale ground forces; they needed the geth to provide the backbone. They had more troops, more advanced technology, and better weaponry. It was a done deal.

_Now we just need to make it happen. But first...take out the signal. Make history happen later._

Eventually, Kal decided he would chime in, head raising as he refocused on Marcus and what he had to say, "-that'll be Torsk's job. Then we make for the silo and I call in that airstrike. Is everyone clear on that?" a chorus of nods were seen. Marcus nodded, standing up straight from the table and crossing his arms, "Alot of people are going to die here, people; I have no delusions about our chances. Soldiers will perish, but we must move forward, at all costs. If a platoon must be sacrificed, so be it. The fate of two species rests in the balance here. Two species that could dramatically shift the power balance in the UGC. I'm not saying bringing the quarians and geth into the fold will ensure victory against the Reapers, but it will up our chances. I'm going to do my best to make sure we all get out of here alive, but my main focus must be the quarian people. I hope you guys realize that."

Surprisingly, it was Madi spoke, Kal's eyes widening as he turned to his unionmate; she stood, rifle in her hand, her stature confident, "I think I speak for everyone here when I say this, sir; my people have fought the geth for too long to mess this up. Three hundred years of violence and bloodshed and hatred will culminate on the homeworld today. I can successfully say that once I'm on the ground, my thoughts will be with the quarian people. Maybe even with the geth's. I say this; no retreat. Push forward, thoughts on forward, and nothing but forward. To the last marine, we fight."

Tali spoke first, hand to her right breast, clenched, bowing her head solemnly, "Keelah Re'lai."

The quarian commando platoon, standing behind them next to the dropship, all raised their fists to their chests and bowed their head in a similiar fashion, their voices a roar, "Keelah Re'lai!"

Kal himself stood, mimicking the stance as he nodded to his unionmate. She looked at him, and he could almost see the glint in her eyes; the  _determination_ , but also the  _fear._

_Her thoughts will be half on forward, half with me..._

_As will mine. But I won't let that hinder me; it will_ _**drive** _ _me._

_Forward._

_Forward._

_**Forward!** _

"Keelah Re'lai," he declared, other hand reaching down to squeeze his wife's hand. She squeezed back, and this time, he knew she was smiling.

"Keelah Re'lai."

Kal turned, eyes widened in surprise. The words had left Marcus' mouth like they fit them, like he was already fluent in them, despite it being clear he wasn't. But he hadn't said the words just to fit in...he  _meant_ them. He was... _also_ emotionally driven. And Kal couldn't help but notice hoe Marcus had looked at Tali when he said them.

_Is Tali the one who evokes such emotion from him? Is she his anchor? What has he promised her? Or is he doing this out of his love for her?_

Kal wished he could claim to know such...devotion. Such devotion that a soldier was willing to reclaim an entire world just for his wife.

The idea was naive...grandiose even. But Kal had no doubt that Madi would call it strangely, and poetically, romantic. And maybe it was.

But what would Kal know? He was just a soldier. Blood and guts was his romance.

"Then I can only wish you all good luck," Marcus stated confidently, nodding to Kal. The nod was of appreciation; a warrior's appreciation of a fellow warrior's skills. Kal nodded back, a smile behind his mask.  _One final fight together, Marcus. Let's make the bosh'tets work for it._ Marcus smiled back, seemingly seeing Kal's, and turned back to the crew, "Let's get ready to deploy. See you on the field, people."

The time had come; he could almost feel the  _Normandy_  shift beneath him, entering Rannoch's atmosphere and, therefore, its maximum orbital deployment height. Kal hadn't done many orbital deployments, especially not in a vehicle, but that didn't matter; the moment they were on the ground was go-time. Charge the geth fortifications, take down the signal. Save the geth, liberate Rannoch.  _The conclave will call it the 'Liberation of Rannoch.' And that's if this is even successful. That's depending on whether or not we die here._

His eyes moved to Marcus, and he knew what the answer was. He squeezed Madi's hand.

_My ancestors before me will look on this with pride. My son or daughter will look up at me once I'm gone and know that I, Kal'Reegar, and their mother, Madi'Reegar, were a part of what happened here today. We are the future._

_First...let's live long enough to have a son. Or daughter._

He smiled.

_Or both._

One more squeeze of Madi's hand, smiling down at her through his mask; and he let go, hands gripping his grenade launcher tightly as he made a beeline for the Mako, watching as the quarian commandos and geth primes made their way into the two respective geth dropships. He watched as Legion, optics nodding at him as he passed, waited for the rest of the squad to board before doing so itself. He nodded back, finding himself in a position of  _respecting_  the geth.

_That's something my ancestors would definitely_ _**not** _ _have pride in. But fuck 'em, they're dead._

He would not make the same mistakes his ancestors did. If they were proud, good. If they weren't, so be it. He would be the difference. Kal knew he would make the difference. He would do what he did best; following orders and filling the enemy with lead. That's what he did. That's what he was born to do. But today...all that killing would actually make a difference.

When he stepped into the Mako, his head was held high, his weapon gripped tightly and with purpose.

_Keelah Re'lai._

**{Loading...}**

_July 21, 2186_

_1348 hours._

_2 klicks north of the Geth Fortress, the Great Plains, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Legion._

This was  _loco._

Completely. Utterly. Undebatable. Absolutely. Undeniably.

_Loco. Loco. Loco. Loco. Did I mention loco? Goddamn it._

The revenant in his hands offered little reassurance, and his bulky armor made sitting in such a confined space extremely uncomfortable. Despite this, he made his attempt to wait, even managing to successfully strap his harness on despite his humongous protection. All he could really do was sit there and wait for landfall.

Beside him, looking equally uncomfortable, was Garrus, although the turian looked alittle bit more atuned to it than James did. The sniper rifle resting between his legs, harness strapped on and hands clasping his knees, only reaffirmed this. All around them, the squad sat, with Tali sitting in the engineering compartment of the Mako, and Marcus in the driver's seat. Javik had the gun, something James begrudged as, despite his current discomfort, he was a long-term fanboy of the M35, and had waited through many average deployments for a chance to operate the main gun of what he saw as a rhino with a mounted cannon on its back. The decision baffled him even more when Javik had to actually ask how to use the gun, Garrus managing to show him how to use it without being called primitive.

_Javik's actually managed to talk to one of us without calling us primitive in some way at all. That's...I'd say, progress?_

The only one not standing (even Javik was sitting, as the main gunner sat in a compressed, rotating column that was isolated from the rest of the Mako's interior) was Legion, the geth standing in a corner. James just scoffed, shaking his head.  _Damn synthetics think they're invincible. Orbital deployment will fuck you up, buddy. Just you wait. You'll be crawling out with a shattered body._

He shifted again, Revenant still in his lap, taking the time to admire the Mako's interior. The vehicle was much like the tanks of old, with small, almost claustrophobic, walls, all of which were surrounded by some of the finest tank armor in the industry, only reinforced by the vehicle's equally durable reinforced kinetic barriers. He could almost see the four wheels of the vehicle, tumbling across the open terrain of Rannoch, utilizing their advantage in grip, being able to climb up near-vertical climbs with little to no trouble, and a pair of vertical-facing thrusters to aid the vehicle when stuck. He could see the vehicle cruising along the plain, dodging geth artillery fire with nimble precision, huge dust clouds kicking up behind it as it shot forward, white coloring gleaming in the hot sun. He could see the main gun spewing machine gun fire, chewing through geth ranks, while occassionally dealing heavy pounder APDS rounds to colossi and armatures as they passed; tearing them apart in all their high-explosive glory.

It was fair to say that the Mako was a match made in heaven for James.  _Much better than that piece of shit Hammerhead...the Mako is like that machoist in a bar fight; he can take a few punches while dealing some back. The Hammerhead is that meek dickhead who pretends he's all macho, but he's actually chicken shit, his punches wouldn't hurt a cat, and he'd be down after the first blow._

So being in such a vehicle should be a dream come true for James. Except, there was this.

The Mako was well-known for its 'built for orbital deployments' role. The Mako was literally showcased as the ultimate 'drop from orbit' weapon. Falling from the atmosphere, landing in the middle of an enemy formation, and chewing 'em up before they even knew the Alliance was comin'? Beauty. Its what made the vehicle so effective when it was first deployed late into the Skyllian Blitz.

_Those blinks didn't see it coming. 40 tons of fuck yeah._

And dozens of them would tumble from Rannoch's orbit like a horde of locust. James was trying to see it in his mind; shadows falling upon the geth fortress, geth looking up as Rannoch's rays outlined the hulls of dozens of Makos falling from the sky, ready to rain hell upon them.

The thought left James grinning.

He was brought back to the present as he watched Marcus suddenly move, left hand reaching out and tapping Tali's shoulder. She turned to him, and nodded to whatever he had asked, and James could only watch in anticipation as the man turned back to the front of the vehicle, powering up the frontal and rear cameras as he hit the public comm, "Shepard to EDI, all systems powering up. Give me a status report on Battlegroup Halycon."

EDI's response was immediate, "I am currently receiving similiar reports from across the battlegroup, captain. Stand by," a few moments passed, eventually turning into a minute. After three minutes, EDI finally spoke again, "All forces are ready to deploy, captain. They are awaiting on your word."

"Good," was Marcus' simple response, James listening as he heard the engine roar to life, making the vehicle vibrate subtlely, "What's our altitude?"

"We have just entered Rannoch's Stratopause," the AI replied, "All ships are levelling out. Geth anti-aircraft guns have not detected us. Stealth systems on all ships remain running."

"How about Farkov's artillery?" Marcus responded, as if checking off boxes on a checklist.

James remembered that Farkov's artillery had deployed ahead of the main force, giving the man time to set up before they arrived; their ground assault had to coincide with the artillery barrage, or they would all be butchered by the geth defenses; Marcus knew that, and so did Farkov. Because of this, the  _Antioch_ , accompanied by the  _Inchon_  and  _Chancellorsville_ , had moved ahead and quickly deployed Farkov's division along the back of the Plain, along the edge of a savannah. Because of the size of the three ships, it was obvious from the get go that the geth would be made aware of the intrusion; and would quickly send out recon scouts.

...scouts that would not have any time at all to reach the division as the rest of the force rushed to deploy and begin the assault.

"Farkov's artillery has deployed, although to what effect, is unknown," EDI explained, "The  _Antioch_ ,  _Chancellorsville_ and  _Inchon_ lost contact once they took off again. The geth are more than likely jamming all communications, although they have no reason to believe an assault of this magnitude is imminent. We may yet catch them by surprise." It was easy to forget that EDI was currently  _in_ the Mako with them, and even harder to get used to her not talking when spoken to her; despite her clearing speaking, her lips didn't move.

_Because she's talking through the ship, not the bot. Damn...that's going to take some getting used to. Disembodiment and all that shit..._

"So we have to act quickly if we want Farkov's support," Marcus summed up, nodding sarcastically as he brought the Mako into gear, the vehicle's engine revving intensely for a brief moment. The sound of an angry bull ready to charge. Their captain then turned around, and they could almost see the seriousness on his face that time, "I hope you're strapped in, people," he turned back to the screen before him, nodding to Tali before speaking one final time, "EDI, have Joker open the shuttle bay door. Relay to fleet; deployment is a go, I repeat, deployment is a go."

"Message received," the AI replied, "Doors opening."

James could almost sense the palpable intensity of the squad. EDI and Legion were completely indifferent, but James immediately saw Kasumi tense up, the young thief, seated infront of him, turning around in her harness, facing Garrus with a frown, "How is the Normandy going to land in such a small canyon?"

Keeling, sitting next to her, turned to the thief, her voice dry, "You're not aware of standard Mako deployment protocol, are you?"

The thief turned to her with a glare, "No...of course I don't. I'm not military, lady," she turned to Garrus, looking concerned, "Is there something I should be worried about?"

The turian gave a brisk nod, "Yes. Definitely."

"Garry..." she continued, and James could almost hear her gulp, "...what's going to happen?"

"Orbit balanced," EDI declared, "Shuttle bay door open. Message relayed to all ships. Deployment is now in effect."

_Here we go..._

Garrus' reply was simple, "Hold on to something... _hard_."

"Troopers!" Marcus roared across the Mako as his foot  _slammed_  the accellerator, "We are green, and very,  _very_ mean!"

James practically felt the Mako shoot forward, its huge wheels rolling them closer and closer towards the door with each passing minute. In the background of all the noise the vehicle was made, he could hear the twin sounds of both dropships' engines lighting up, the ships likely taking off to join them. And with each second, they were brought  _closer_  and  _closer..._

"Wait...we're not...!?" Kasumi almost  _whimpered._

"Hold onto your helmets!" Kaidan shouted down the vehicle.

James quickly pinned his Revenant between his lap, bracing his arms against the seat infront of him, keeping his head reasonably tucked between them.  _Never done an orbital deployment before..._

_So fucking_ _**loco** _ _..._

_...yet again, I crashed a shuttle into another. An expensive shuttle._

James grinned.

For a few more moments, he could feel the deck rumbling beneath them.

And then... _nothing._

He almost did hear Marcus' enthusiastic shouting, or Kasumi's screaming, or Garrus' grumble or even Kal's laughter...all he felt was these _weird_ sensations throughout his body...pressure rose in his eardrums, building up to the point of pain...before  _popping._ As G-Forces kicked in, he felt as if his stomach was lifting up into his ribcage, making him want to puke. He bit down on his lower lip painfully, drawing blood, feeling the entire vehicle shudder and shake as they entered freefall towards Rannoch's surface. His entire body felt limp and numb, his ears popping over and over again.

And the Mako just kept  _falling._

Over it all, Marcus' shouted, "Loving the view, honey!?"

For a moment, James thought he had missed Tali's response, only for her to respond seconds later, "I would love...the view...more...if I didn't feel like...puking up my...stomach!"

_Here's to that, muchacha..._

Marcus just chuckled in response, James unable to see his face due to having his head tucked so tightly between his arms, "Oh, harden up babe! What about you, Keeling!?"

"Feels like I'm back at Zero-G training on Titan all over again, sir!" was her response, and James couldn't help but smile at that. He knew it was a goofy smile; his smiles were always like that, but something about Keeling's enthusiasm brought a smile to his face.  _Focus trooper._

"Wooooo-hooo! Gunny Elison would have  _loved_ this!" Marcus shouted, and James figured that, if the man wasn't such a professional, he pictured the man would be holding up his hands in the air at this point, "Brings back memories! Therum, Virmire, Ilos! Those were the times!"

"Once on the ground, I propose a coup," was Garrus' grumble. Kasumi didn't even say anything, James figuring that she was glued to her seat in fright, "Anyone else is better than Marcus at driving. Even you, Vega."

James managed a response amongst his nauseous bouts, "I would make this baby glide, just you see, Vakarian."

Garrus' response was a weak grumble, "That's a lie, Vega! No one can make this worthless piece of metal glide!"

_Did he just insult the Mako? Oh no you don't dino..._

"Okay, cut the chatter people," Marcus ordered, his voice serious this time, "We're coming into view now. Clouds parting...okay, we have confirmed sighting of ground. All ground units, display your visuals. Deploy thrusters on my mark. Legion, work on getting me a line with Farkov. We're running blind without that artillery support."

The entire Mako fell silent as the entire squad...almost  _felt_ the ground approaching. He noticed Garrus brace just that extra bit more, and James did the same, knowing what was coming.  _Shock absorbers can only do so much..._

"3,000 meters and closing," the spectre declared, "Readying thrusters. Wait on my mark, people. We've got to time this right. Legion, status on that line?"

"We have managed to break through geth jamming signals temporarily. You have approximately six seconds before the line is cut."

"Okay. Farkov, we're 3 klicks from the surface! Ready your guns and prepare to fire! When we're ready to advance, I'll fire a red flare! That'll be your que to fire!"

"Copy tha-" was Farkov's brief response before being cut. Marcus cursed loudly, but James was just happy that Farkov at least  _knew_ they were coming.

"2,000 and descending!" Marcus spat, bracing against the back of his seat, "Compensating for air resistance. Tali, divert power from engines to the thrusters. Prepare for ten second burst."

"Copy that," Tali responded, fingers dancing over her console as she went about performing her husband's orders. James found that amusing in that she was an admiral, and technically outranked him, yet he still gave  _her_ the orders.

_Technically, she shouldn't be here at all. Doesn't she have a fleet to lead or something?_

More time passed, and Marcus called out once more, "No geth forces detected on sensors! Anti-air hasn't lit up; that's good! 1,000 and dropping. This is it, people; brace yourselves. 900..."

James did exactly that, tensing up, clenching the seat infront of him like a vice.  _So_ _ **fucking**_ _loco!_

"700!" Marcus barked. No humor lingered in his voice, only utter determination and seriousness. Utterly focused on the task before him, "600!"

_Stop counting down...goddamn it..._

" _Five hundred_!" he thundered, hands a blur as he initiated the thrusters, "All units, thrusters a go! Activate your thrusters! 400 meters and closing!"

And then it happened... _again_.

With gravity and the concept of momentum being almost two entirely different aspects of the spectrum, you'd never think either would be related to each other. But in this case, they were. Falling from the sky was one thing, but when said fall had gathered significant enough momentum that impact with, say, a train would reduce the Mako to pieces of shredded metal scattered over half a kilometer of land, and said momentum was now suddenly being  _halted_ by forces that were suddenly  _shoving_ it back.

It was like a door being pulled inwards, only to be suddenly kicked  _outwards_...

...by the fucking  _hulk_.

James almost cried out as he felt himself suddenly  _yanked_ upwards as the thrusters initiated. Yeah, their momentum wasn't entirely halted; they were still descending rapidly. But with the thrusters kicking in, it meant their momentum would begin to slow rapidly until they hit the ground. Because of this, James stomach went from climbing into his  _throat_...to trying to squeeze into his bloody  _bladder..._

_...fuck...this...loco...shit..._

The entire squad, aside from perhaps Kaidan, Liara, Garrus and Tali (who were no doubt used to this, if a bit rusty), cried out, Kasumi worst of all, with only Kal wooping in typical military machoism. James just bit down on his lip again, this time with more  _force_...enough to make him think he had  _split_ his lip, as well as  _break_ one of his teeth...

The entire vehicle shuddered as the thrusters began to slow their descent, "200! We're coming in hard!"

He closed his eyes once more, and braced.  _Deep breaths, Vega. Man up._

"100!"

He gripped the seat before him.

"50!"

The Mako had slowed down significantly.

And like that, for a split second, he was  _airborne._  It came and went in a blink.

His entire body yanked and tore against his harness, but the only damage done was to himself; he had no doubt he would have severe bruising on his shoulders. His entire body rocked against the seat as was thrown about, but after a few moments, it calmed down, the vehicle coming to a complete halt.

James opened his eyes. He licked his lips, clearing it of the blood he hadn't known had collected there. He gulped, wincing at the coppery taste of blood that had somehow dripped into his mouth and swallowed. The taste was bitter.

"You alive, Vega?"

He looked up, Keeling looking at him with a smile. He nodded, shaking his head to get rid of the nausea he still felt lingering in his body. His stomach had righted itself (not that it ever moved, it only felt like it did), but his entire body still felt numb from the brief, yet never-ending, fall. Keeling continued to grin at him as he didn't respond and he just snorted, leaning back as he reached down one hand and grabbed his Revenant, "I'm fine, Lola. Although...I'm flattered that you care."

Undoing the harness, Keeling just rolled her eyes, retrieving her Valkyrie, and readying it in her hands, "Someone needs to watch my back."

_Just your back?_

He stopped for a second, retracing mental steps.

_What the fuck? Get a grip, Vega._

_Well...the thought wasn't exactly unwelcome...and she doesn't_ _**know** _ _I'm thinking it..._

_Fraternization protocol, cabron..._

_Fraternization doesn't stop you from admiring a woman. Even if it does make you want to fuck her._

_Argh...focus, Vega. Goddamn priorities. Bloody fall must have fucked me up more than I thought._

He steadily released his harness, letting it collapse backwards as he straightened, stretching his tense muscles. He nodded to Keeling to finally confirm that he was alright. After a moment, Marcus spoke, "Okay, all units read loud and clear. Tali, divert power from thrusters to shields. Javik, ready a flare."

"On it," Tali responded.

A few seconds passed, and everyone looked at the unresponsive prothean.

Marcus, after a few more seconds, twisted in his seat, still wearing his harness, and spoke, "Javik? Do you copy? Ready the damn flare."

A few more seconds, and just as it seemed Marcus would lose his temper, the prothean spoke.

"I do not know how to do that."

A loud sigh was heard, and all eyes turned to Kaidan as he moved up the Mako, "Let the primitive demonstrate. Would you like me to hold your hand while I do this, or is a simple point-and-push required?"

A few chuckles rang through the Mako, with even Keeling managing a laugh.

_Keeling certainly seems to be more...open lately. Maybe this crew is actually affecting her._

"That will not be necessary, human," Javik grumbled from the turret, "A simple instruction will suffice."

As Kaidan arrived at the gun, rolling his eyes, he shook his head in response, "Javik's might think they invented the naming system, but we humans have names too. Kaidan is alot more specific than human. Such a broad...generalization." The sarcasm practically oozed from the marine's words, and James couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Alenko-Major is correct," Legion declared, surprisingly coming to the marine's aid, "If it would help, we could upload tutorial programs to the turret interface to help with your endeavour."

If anyone noticed that the geth had just made a  _joke_ , and not just that, but a  _sarcastic_ remark, then no one said anything.

"Silence, machine," Javik hissed angrily, although the hatred was lost as everybody tried to hold back laughs, "Human... _Kaidon..._ show me how to deploy these...'flares.'"

"Kaidan. Kay-den.  _K-a-i-d-a-n._ "

" _Kaidan_ ," James could have sworn the prothean sounded murderous, "Just show me how to deploy a flare. Valuable mission time is being wasted."

"Agreed," Marcus declared, breaking up the mood as all smiles died, Kaidan finally cutting out the sarcasm and genuinely helping Javik, "All forces are in position and awaiting the flare. I hope you're ready, people. Let's...well, let's  _literally_ save the world."

James smiled warmly, nodding.

This was  _loco._

Completely. Utterly. Undebatable. Absolutely. Undeniably.

But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

**"The Liberation of Rannoch. The defining moment of quarian history."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Indeed."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"You know that house you promised to build me? This is it. I had help building it of course. I built it where you...well, where** _**we** _ **..."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"I know. The day I...well, spoilers."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Get on with it."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, next came the charge..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yeah, my intended deadline turned out to be a flop. I'm two weeks into Year 12 now, and I've only just released this, let alone finished the quarian-geth arc. This is just to prove I'm not dead. There were a number of reasons why this is late, and I won't outline them all, but Year 12 and my gaming life were major factors. That, and the mini-series I'm developing with my team at PressAForStupidity, as well as a side game-building project...** _

_**...so yeah. Anyways, here's Part 1. Part 2 will be out...well, when it's out.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	53. Keelah Re'lai, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's team continues to push on towards the source of the signal, while the UGC keeps the geth entrenched and the Migrant Fleet assault the geth ships in orbit.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY:**

**KEELAH RE'LAI PART TWO**

_July 21, 2186_

_1353 hours._

_2 klicks north of the Geth Fortress, the Great Plains, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Legion._

He couldn't remember the last time he was so... _tense_.

Perhaps it was when he had been fighting through the streets of Vancouver as the Reapers invaded Earth? Maybe it was when he was chasing Eva along the Archives on Mars? When he was racing to rescue the new turian primarch on Menae? Trying to keep Bakara alive while Cerberus assaulted the salarian base on Sur'Kesh? Meeting Javik for the first time and learning who he was? The evacuation on the besieged Noveria? Racing through krogan ruins as a krogan god and machine god battled amongst the sands? Pointing a gun at Mordin? Racing to save the Council as Cerberus invaded the Citadel?

Or perhaps, it was none of those. Maybe, the last time he was so unbelievably tense, was when he had finally learnt of Tali's whereabouts, only to discover that she was about to  _die._

If so...that  _tension_  had returned in full gear. He was barely able to resist as his hands clenched around the controls, as his eyes fixated themselves on the wall of titanium and steel that lay ahead, as the order to charge refused to leave his lips.

The moment...it was yet  _another_ one of those defining moments. A game-changer; ending yet another centuries long blood feud and returning a race to its former glory. Yet, even when he cured the genophage, could he really claim it was he who had cured it? After all,  _Mordin_  had been the one who created it...he only helped to deliver it...

If anything, wouldn't this victory go to Tali? Or Legion, even? After all, it had been the geth who reached out. The geth who had the audacity to confront Marcus and try and join his squad. The geth who had revealed to them the truth, never once stabbed them in the back, and had remained unwaveringly loyal. If Tali had never met Legion, would they be here today? Would they have gotten this far?

Somehow, Marcus doubted it.

But then there was his wife...the first quarian,  _ever_ , to willingly side with a geth. Whether it had initially been because of her love and trust for Marcus, or because she genuinely believed the geth to be an ally, is unclear...but it didn't matter anymore. Now, today, Tali truly  _trusted_ Legion, believed every word it had to say. Sure, they weren't exactly friends, but it was a  _trusting_ ,  _professional_ relationship. It worked, and for Marcus to see it...he was humbled.

_Some prejudices can be forgiven, but never forgotten. The quarians will remember their hatred of the geth...and, with hope, spit upon it. They will be proud of their progress, and march forward into a better tomorrow._

Never did Marcus, when he joined the Alliance, expect to become something so gargantuan in scale; no soldier does, really. Marcus did it because he felt it was all he  _could_ do; when he lost his father in the First Contact War, he felt somekind of obligation to join the military. To make a difference. For the 17 years prior to that, he had done nothing but play on ships, making friends and losing them just as fast as his mother constantly moved from post to post. Until the  _Normandy_ , Marcus had never made any permanent friendships; by the time he arrived at the new posting, he would make new friends, and forget the old...for he had never had enough time to make any true, unwaveringly, loyal friendships.

His first friends had been in the Alliance; and even then, they were still just men under his command. Sure, he laughed and joked and teased along with the rest of them; but that was just a cover. No, in the end, it was the  _Normandy_  where his true, permanent friendships began.

No, where his  _family_ was reborn.

The Alliance military recruited you by making you believe you were going to make a difference. That you were going to explore the galaxy, meet new people, and kill others. It was all very Star Treky; going where no man has gone before. In the end...Marcus was one of the lucky ones. He got to save the galaxy; he was charged with a billion-year-long nightmarish secret, and he, with his motley crew, would be the galaxy's guardians.

Did he think he would end up here? No. No, he didn't.

A hand touched his shoulder and squeezed, and he almost immediately  _relaxed_. His eyes remained focused ahead, but his grip slackened slightly, and after a moment, he felt himself tear his eyes away from the geth base they were about to attack to look into the eyes of the one person that was more important to him than anything.  _And then there's you..._

"You okay, Marcus?" she asked, cocking her head, able to read him like an open book, "You look tense."

He smiled back and reached up, using his own hand to squeeze hers. With his helmet on, he couldn't very well kiss it like he wanted, "I'm fine,  _yol'teeya_. Feeling larger than life."

She simply rolled her eyes, patting his shoulder as she pulled back into her seat, once again working on her console, "It's 'yol'tiya', you  _bosh'tet_. And good. We can't have you being distracted."

A grin spread across his face, "Well  _soooo-rrrrrryyyy_ , Mrs  _Shepard._ I didn't realize my tension brought you discomfort."

Her response was a smile, hidden well behind her mask, "I've said it before, I will say it again. This marriage is proof that men can be tamed."

"Only for you, darling," he responded, his response more warm than teasing, his grin melting to a simple, heartfelt smile, "Only for you."

He could feel her smile back, her own grin changing into a mere warm smile. It was nice to see.

After a moment of silence, Marcus frowned, switching to their private comm as he turned towards her, "You know, something just occurred to me."

"Uh-oh, you're using the private comm. It must be... _important_ ," she replied with sarcasm, turning towards him with one elbow against her locked console, "What is it?"

His frown deepened, "Karin calls me Mark, but you don't. You still call me Marcus."

He could almost still the raised eyebrow behind her mask, "I...I didn't even  _know_  you had a second name. Do  _all_  humans have two names?"

His frown only deepened...before turning into a smile, and then a chuckle, "What? No. No, I don't have two names, honey. Mark is just a shortened version of Marcus. My mum and Karin say it all the time. I just figured...I don't know...I just wouldn't mind you saying it."

She giggled, "Is that an order or a suggestion, captain?"

"Just a suggestion, Tali," he replied, holding up his hands defensively, "Although...I'd really like it if you would call me that. Marcus...its not...you know, a personal thing between us anymore. Almost everyone we know uses it now. And Mark...its only used by Karin and my mum...so why not? I want something between us, Tali."

She didn't respond for a second, turning back to her console and staring at it. After a moment, she turned back to him, a smirk in her voice, "Get me my homeworld back, and I'll call you, and  _do_ to you, whatever you  _want._ " There was a hint of something in her voice...something almost... _lustful._ Filled with... _desire._

Whatever it was, it almost made him melt and something...familiar...stiffen painfully underneath his armor, "I'll...I'll...uh...keep that...in mind?" He returned her feelings in kind. Lust. Desire. Want. Suddenly, it was almost like her scent could be smelt outside her suit. It was...intoxicating.

_With Junior around, and the seven months between us...we haven't..._ _**done** _ _the deed since...well...before the super-dreadnought. And...god...do I_ _**want** _ _...her..._

And by the look Tali gave him for a second, she felt the same.

Suddenly, Javik's voice interrupted their moment, "Captain?" His voice was irritated and annoyed, and when Marcus turned around, he could see Kaidan sitting down, both him, Garrus, Liara and Kasumi with smirks on their faces. He sighed, switching off his private comm and turning to the main squad comm, "Yes, Javik?"

"The... _flare..._ is loaded," the prothean stated, still confused by the word, "Are you sure this primitive device will be enough to get their attention?"

"Yes, Javik," he replied in an almost sarcastic tone, feeling like he sounded like a teacher scolding a child, "This will get their attention. Now why don't you stop questioning everything and just fire the damn thing," he quickly switched to the main comm, "This is Shepard, all units report in."

"This is Durand, we're ready," the woman declared.

"Solid on that, over," Cameron stated in kind.

"Bergundus, reading clear. Ready to move."

"This is Desolas, my men are ready. Waiting for your orders, captain."

"This is Solik Vass, me and my men are ready. And gathering from all the comm chatter, I'd say Torsk's unit are as well."

"I can speak for myself, salarian!" Torsk grumbled back, making Marcus smile, "But he's right. We're ready to kill some geth, battlemaster."

_Are all krogan going to call me a battlemaster now?_

"Shepard-Commander," came Moses' voice over the comm, interrupting whatever else Torsk was possibly going to say, "All allied geth units acknowledge."

"Excellent," he declared, sighing heavily, "All vehicles, form up on me; my squad'll lead the way. We'll need to split into echelons and hit from different sections. Durand, split your men into left echelons and strike from the west; Cameron, split your men accordingly bring up her regiment's rear. Bergundus and Desolas, split your own men into right echelons and strike from the east; Vass and Torsk will form up your rear. Moses, Yul, have your dropships form up the middle, behind me. We'll take the lead. Wait for the signal to begin the advance. Stop at nothing, understood?"

A range of affirmatives greeted his declaration.

He tensed up once more, but this time, it was due to anticipation.  _Let's get ready to rumble..._

Without turning, he spoke, his voice stern and cold, the complete opposite of what he felt internally, "Who here feels ready to save another world?"

A chorus of agreements met his question, and a massive smirk crossed his lips, and he turned forward, "All units, this is it. Form up and all forward. Accellerate to full speed. Do not stop to counterattack the geth batteries; just keep moving," he turned to Javik, giving a silent nod, "Launch the flare, Javik," turning back to the cockpit, he slammed his foot onto the accellerator, "All echelons, advance!"

And just like that, the Mako shot forward, wheels kicking up dust and rocks as it raced along the plain, creating a small, orange dust cloud behind it. Soon though, the dust cloud was joined by many more, Alliance Makos and Goblins, turian  _Tyrant-_ class light tanks and salarian  _Leaper_ -class APCs rolling to join the  _Normandy_ 's Mako as they advanced towards the geth base. The dust and rocks kicked up became multiple clouds, before joining into one solid, cloud behind them all, rising into the air with such intensity that the geth likely would have seen it coming from  _kilometers_ away.

_And we're only two. We have to cross two kilometers worth of ground to get to the geth base. Time to show off my 'driving skills.'_

Mere moments after driving forward, Javik aimed the Mako's main gun behind them and on a 130 degree axis; it could not go up any further. In one fluid motion, a single, red round popped off into the air, shooting up at the speed of bullet, leaving a rapidly evaporating cloud of red vapour behind it as it rose further and further into the air.

For entire seconds, the literal  _fleet_ of vehicles rushed towards the geth base with no response from Farkov's artillery.

Unfortunately, the geth  _had_  spotted them by this point.  _I'd be surprised if they hadn't. You simply can't miss the giant cloud of dust we're leaving behind us._

He could almost feel the geth's eyes  _baring_ down on them. Their cold optics looking down on them with anger fed to them by the same machines who not only gave them life, but also enslaved them. Guns baring, barrels superheating plasmatic death.

The feeling...that dreaded feeling of the coming  _bombardment_...

He somehow managed to push down on the acellerator even  _harder._

And then it came. Marcus, watching simply as the ground around them raced by, looked up and saw the battlements of the geth fortress come to  _life_. All over the wall light was brimming and pulsing, a mixture of greens and purples and blues, cracking angrily and brewing superheated death.

And then they fired.

Bolts of plasma shot up into the sky, their trajectory calculated by the thousands of geth programs operating the artillery batteries, slicing through the air as they mercilessly prepared to hammer their targets. One bolt was followed by the next, until dozens,  _hundreds_ , of bolts were arcing through the sky, heading straight toward them. Green and purple bolts hissed and popped as the energy used to form them began to collapse, ready to explode upon their target and incinerate them.

_Now would be a good time to get the hell out of the way..._

He didn't wait to let the squad know. The moment he saw the leading bolt heading for them, he quickly swerved to the left. The vehicle, almost like it was being yanked away from its puppetmaster, shot to the left immediately, the entire squad jolting at the sudden movement, while Marcus simply gritted his teeth and straightened the vehicle.

Moments later, the vehicle shuddered. They had narrowly missed a bolt.

All around them, the product of the geth base's defenses rained down around them. The entire force began immediate manoeuvres to try and shake off the geth's aim. Allied vehicles began to imitate Marcus' movements by swerving left and right, deccellerating or accellerating. Anything to make sure the geth didn't get a good hit.

Another bolt landed just infront of them, dust and rocks shooting up into the air, the battered remnants of the rocks sizzling bright red as the sides of them melted, the rest slamming into the ground dozens of meters away. The crater left by the bolt crackled briefly, Marcus not hanging around long enough to see whether or not it stopped as he drove right over the impact site, swerving left to avoid another bolt.

For a moment, he wondered whether or not Farkov had gotten the signal...

...and then he heard the most blissful sound in the sound. The sound of allied artillery  _responding._

None of them saw the shells. They heard it; the great pounding thunder echoing through the valley, drowning out the much quieter, cleaner geth artillery with their booming clap. They didn't need to see the shells.

...they  _saw_  what it did.

The first shell was only slightly off, as was the second, third, fourth and fifth. Those shells uselessly slammed into the base's walls, shredding off great chunks off its armoured carapace and sending them flying into the air, likely destroying whatever geth platforms had been behind it. Five shells missed, and five holes now lay in the geth wall, the flames and smoke lazily leaking from the pours like pus from a wound.

The sixth, seventh and eighth rounds didn't miss. The first slammed directly into the central gun battery, a tremendous explosion signalling the bullseye. First, the explosion was a bright orange, but soon after, the geth artillery's central core detonated, turning the relatively 'small', orange explosion into a pillar of molten, purple death as it spiralled into the air a good  _forty_ meters before stopping, leaving a wave of destruction in its wake. Zooming in, Marcus was able to watch as at least a dozen geth platforms, trooper height, were tossed through the air like rag dolls, legs and arms and other body parts shorn off.

The seventh round hit between two batteries, detonating them simultaneously. Two similiar pillars erupted, followed by a third, fourth and fifth as the eighth round slammed right into an AAA gun, its explosion consuming the two, smaller AA guns next to it, and detonating them as well. All over, explosions rippled along the geth wall like dominoes, and had it been organics running the defenses, there likely would have been enough chaos and confusion to reach the base with no further hassle.

_But these are geth. They'll keep fighting to the last battery. And with Reaper upgrades, they'll be even more deadly._

Even as smoke and flames bled out into the sky, choking up the air and casting a dark shadow down on the base, the survivors once again opened fire as their allied artillery prepared their next salvo.

This time, being closer to the base, as they were only 500 meters from the wall, they were a much easier target. The geth artillery fired again, bolts keening towards them at what seemed to be a much faster rate.

Marcus slammed the brake as a particularly  _close_ looking one headed towards them...

...only for it to charge right into the front of an oncoming allied Mako. The front of the vehicle almost immediately caved in, before the rest was incinerated, leaving the front of the Mako simply  _gone._ The back of it continued to roll uselessly into the ground until a lack of momentum stopped it, leaving only a battered husk. The sides of where it was brutally gutted were left hissing with heat, red lines lining the melting armor. Knowing that it would only be one casualty of many, Marcus pressed on, hitting the accellerator and pushing forward, even as he watched a  _Tyrant_ -class light tank spiral up into the air, a plasma bolt hitting the ground infront of it and causing its front to shoot upwards, capsizing it. Before its occupants could try and escape the doomed vehicle, another bolt impacted its exposed belly, and a moment later, a gigantic fireball consumed the vehicle, raining debris all around the plain.

_Press forward. Press forward. PRESS FORWARD._

_Victory at any cost._

_We fight or we die._

_Press forward._

_Press._

_Press._

_**Advance** _ _._

The two geth dropships were nowhere to be seen, although Marcus supposed they had entered cloak so as to not envoke the wrath of the geth anti-aircraft guns. As a plasma blast sent a Goblin careening into a rock, the impact not damaging it but halting it, Marcus wizzed passed not watching as a plasma bolt hit the reversing Goblin directly in its side, not only capsizing the vehicle, but gutting it from bow to stern and leaving an exposed husk full of dead, cooked soldiers...

_Focus._

_Forward._

_Press._

_Advance._

Just as it seemed the casualities would continue to grow, Farkov's artillery opened fire once more. The walls loomed over the force now, the sun glinting off their once sleek, grey exterior. Smoke and small fires had long since marred that image, but it was still an imposing sight. Its immense shadow cast down at least 100 meters infront of it, and as they closed, they would quickly enter that shadow.

The allied shell impacts coincided with the geth artillery firing again. Two shells were actually  _vaporized_ as their trajectory sent them slicing through the already arcing bolts, atomizing the shells as the bolts simply kept up their course. Luckily for them though, they were too close now for the artillery to mean anything; the bolts missed entirely, impacting the ground behind them, lost in the dust cloud created by the vehicles' approach.

_Almost there...almost there...just keep moving...keep going..._

The third shell  _slammed_ into the left most battlement, not only tearing another hole in the wall, but causing one of the artillery to topple down the wall, the main platform it was held on no longer existing, meaning the gun had nothing to sit on, allowing good old gravity to take control, the gun plummeting to the ground below and caving in as it hit the ground, a cloud forming around it from all the dust.

The explosions were just noise now; all Marcus could see was the  _gate._  That single, lone main gate that sat in the middle of the wall, its doors unyielding. Explosions rained down all over the wall, geth artillery left battered and useless, blasts rupturing plasma cores and leaving the geth's only defense a battered mess. And in all of that, the gate stood...untouched, its surface looking unmarred.

_That's our way in, so its time to fix that._

"All units, converge on the main gate. Get us under that wall," he barked into the comms, swerving right again to avoid a stray shot from an artillery battery in its dying throes, "Moses, you know what to do. We're approaching the gate in ten. I want it gone in five."

"Acknowledged," was the prime's response.

Four seconds in, and his Mako was still leading the way, rocketing towards the gate without stopping. He didn't slow down or even try to hit the brakes; he just kept going.

_Where are you, Moses..._

"Uhhhh...now would be a good time to stop!" Tali almost shouted.

"Trust me," he muttered.

"Marcus, stop! We're going to-"

"Trust me!" he roared.

And then it happened. Like a guardian angel, Moses' dropship materialized in front of them, low to the ground, its engines kicking up a gust capable of sending rocks and dust flying. Its main gun reared, taking aim.

Three thumps, and the gate was no more, the dropship lifting upwards just as the Mako  _barrelled_ past it.

It was like a scene from a cheesy action flick. The explosion tore the gate to shreds, sending it flying back on its hinges to slam into the barren ground. The Mako was a split second behind, emerging from the explosion like an angry raven.

As soon as it landed behind the wall, it had crushed two geth waiting behind it, giving them no time to open fire on the intruders, the sound of metal crunching and grinding under the Mako's wheels as it simply drove over them, Marcus wasting no time as he shouted the one order that nobody needed to hear.

"Javik, rip 'em apart!" he  _spat_ , "All available units, punch through the gate! Secure the courtyard!"

_Focus. Forward. Press. Advance. Focus. Forward. Press. Advance._

_Victory at any cost._

As the Mako rolled into the courtyard, Marcus was able to make out the features of it. For starters, it was clear the geth didn't have much use for proper flooring; the entire ground was the same, non-descript dusty plain that they had driven across outside the fortress walls, with the odd bundle of grass poking out from the ground, or even the occassional boulder or large rock. The rest of the yard itself was shaped like a semi-circle, with the semi-circle shaped around the massive structure that towered over them; the first of many structures making up the expansive geth facility. To the right, it seemed the courtyard ended at a smaller structure linking up to a bigger one, with a single door permitting entrance.

On the left, a similiar setup, but the building was much bigger, with a much bigger door, this one looking like a blast door, and easily big enough for a vehicle to fit through; clearly, this part of the structure was to allow vehicles easy access to the courtyard. Whether it was a garage though, or rather part of a network of vehicle-designed tunnels, was beyond him, and he didn't really want to stick around to find out. Littered around the courtyard were crates, likely holding weapons and/or equipment that the geth could use in the base's defenses.

Fire, debris and smoke rained from the upper wall, starting smaller fires around it. The shorn pieces of metal that had once been the gate were split on the ground before them, their edges twisted and broken, smoke still hissing from the twin, black craters that now marred their once polished surface.

Marcus immediately noticed the geth prime standing infront of the main building, the titan of a geth snapping its head around to face him. It blared angrily, an electronic roar that echoed across the courtyard as it spun on its foot, bringing its pulse cannon to bear.

_That thing'll shred the shields very quickly._

_Kill it._

He did not stop on the accellerator, sending the Mako forward at full throttle as the gap between vehicle and prime quickly closed. Even at this range, Marcus could tell that the prime was almost the  _same size_ as the Mako.  _Fuckers are huge..._

The prime only got enough time to blare out once more before the Mako's front collided with its chest, trapping it between its hulk as it drove the prime towards the solid mass of steel behind it. The geth stuttered and  _gasped_  in its electronic fury, and Marcus heard what sounded like metal  _tearing_ , followed by the sound ceasing as the vehicle jumped in its movement slightly, followed by a grinding, and then silence. But the prime, however, was  _not_ silent. It  _bellowed_ in what was, unmistakably,  _agony._

Looking down, Marcus realized that, in the split moment before he hit the wall, that the Mako's impact had actually gotten the prime's legs stuck under its mass, and that the forward momentum had not only torn them off, but left them a bundled mess of metal and white liquid.

The Mako slammed into the wall, the impact jarring the entire crew, including Marcus, as the prime suddenly found itself pinned against the wall. Its pulse cannon was still clasped in its right hand, but the vehicle had it pinned against the wall as well, the impact having completely crushed its wrist and rendered it useless. Its chest cavity had caved in as well, with circuitry and white liquid gushing out as the prime wailed. The sound was... _chilling._

Almost as if it was in actual... _pain._

_Are the upgrades capable of giving them that feeling? Legion said it was impossible._

Regardless of what he may have thought, it mattered little. Javik spun the turret around, the barrel pretty much tapping the prime's optics, before the prothean switched to the machine gun and opened fire. Its optics immediately exploded in a blast of glass and broken chasis, before its head erupted, sending bits of chewed up armor flying. Satisfied the prime was dead, Marcus backed the vehicle up, managing to do so just as more allied vehicles began to pour into the yard.

Bringing the vehicle to a stop, he noticed that the door on the right had shot open and was now spewing geth all over the courtyard.  _Dozens_ of geth troopers, rocket troopers and destroyers took positions, raining fire down on the enemy vehicles as they desperately tried to gain ground. Assault drones flew in from multiple directions, catching them in a crossfire as they attacked from all angles.

Marcus quickly hit the comm, "Durand, shoot a flare! Tell Farkov to cease his attack! All vehicles, drive the geth back! Vehicles outside, deploy your troops and reinforce the courtyard while we provide support!"

A loud boom was heard, and he looked up to see Moses' dropship shoot by as it landed on the other side of the base, quickly launching a salvo of missiles as it went past. The missiles landed squarely amongst the geth troops, tearing geth asunder as entire squads were annihilated in an instant.

Javik didn't even hesitate; letting his hatred of machines be known, the prothean poured machine gun fire into the geth ranks, downing them at a ridiculous rate. Four geth troopers fell to his opening onslaught, followed by six shock troopers. A rocket trooper managed to get a good shot at them, but the missile merely bounced off the Mako's shield, Javik quickly picking off the rocket trooper a moment later.

Three  _Tyrant_ -class light tanks spilled into the courtyard to their left, their heavy machine gun turrets mounted on their front picking off assault drones left and right; small explosions permeated the air as, one by one, the drones fell. What had been a perfect counterattack had turned into a slaughter for the geth.

A geth juggernaut moved through the doorway, followed by four more, all armed with centaurs, but all Javik did was switch to the sabot and fire into the central juggernaut. The blast tore through its shields, the round blowing the geth apart. The two flanking it stumbled, before they were quickly dispatched by the sabot rounds of two other Makos. The other two took cover, although they were now pinned by the heavy fire of the Goblins moving in to reinforce.

While Javik and their allies continued to pepper the geth, their forces quietly deployed behind them. Before they knew it, Torsk was leading his company of one hundred and fifty troops through the gate, shotguns and assault rifles blasting away as a krogan war cry filled the courtyard. Geth pulse rifle and plasma shotgun fire met the krogan charge, with one krogan stumbling under the attack and falling, his guts spilled out into the dust, superheated and bubbling before him. The krogan puked as bile and blood spilt onto the ground, followed by the krogan dying as a pulse rifle shot slammed into his skull, killing him instantly.

A few more krogan fell, but the others simply soaked up the shots until their lines met the geth. Torsk laughed maniacally as he waved his arm, bashing one geth trooper aside before ramming his shotgun into a decloaked hunter's chest, pulling the trigger shortly afterwards and blowing its circuity and blood out through its back. Kicking the dead hunter to the ground, he turned back to the stumbling geth, and blew its head off with another shotgun round before racking the pump. He laughed once more, roaring into the sky.

"For Tuchanka!" he spat, and his krogan charged forth, like an angry horde, pushing the geth further and further back, gunning them down one by one. For once, the geth's superior technology was simply failing them in the face of such overwhelming force.

And the krogan weren't alone. Not long after, the second allied geth dropship landed, deploying its platoon of quarian commandos. Unlike the krogan, the quarians did not charge forward, preferring to keep back and provide fire support for the enraged shock troops. Lieutenant Malra'Yul vas Wexa, the CO of the platoon, quickly ordered his three snipers into position, one going prone in the dust while the other two took parallel positions on either side of a stationary Goblin. The rest of the platoon moved forward, providing covering fire for the advancing krogan company.

Combined with the gunfire from the supporting tanks and commandos, as well as the relentless krogan company, the geth were beginning to falter, despite their upgraded abilities. He watched as Javik spotted a trio of geth hoppers moving along the mega structure's wall, likely looking to ambush the quarian snipers. He rotated the main gun, unleashing a burst that raked across and tore the leg off one hopper, before splitting its head open like a ripe melon. Falling to the ground, its two hopper compatriots only had a second before the machine gun tore through them as well, white blood spurting all over the wall as their ripped up corpses collapsed to the ground.

More assault drones tried to pour in from the sky, but the turians simply weren't having it; they fell from the air like flies, crashing into the ground in heaps of debris and ruined circuitry. Geth troopers, hunters and destroyers attempted to push them back, but the allied force was too much; more and more geth fell, almost creating piles with the numbers that dropped.

Another geth prime appeared, and three krogan charged it. Despite this, geth stood its ground, even bringing up its pulse cannon to use as a club, slamming it across the skull of a charging krogan, and using the added momentum to lift him up and then slam him back into the dust. It brought the weapon back round, aimed it at the krogan's head and pulled the trigger; moments later, orange gore, viscera and brains were all that was left of the shock trooper's head.

Turning around, its shields flashed, twin shotgun blasts striking it in the back. It immediately dispatched its drone, orange light forming to create the dreaded hellspawn. It immediately darted forward, electric bursts whipping at the shields of one of the krogan. With that krogan distracted, the prime turned, aimed and fired, the three bursts of plasma tearing through shields and burning away at flesh, the unbearable scream of a dying krogan booming through the base as his redundant organs were melted, his blood superheated, and his stomach torn open. With the second krogan dead, the prime turned and fired once more, this shot hitting the irritated krogan through the eye socket, blasting bright orange across the ground and leaving little to recognize in the krogan's now annihilated face.

Despite this, the prime was unable to save the battle. By this point, most of its comrades had been destroyed, and it was now confronted with not just three krogan, but two score of them. They all charged, blasting away with shotguns, the combined force enough to half the monster's shields. The prime fired again, its pulse cannon overheating with the final shot, managing to tear the left leg off of the leading soldier, the krogan roaring in agony as the torn off appendage was thrown backwards, slamming into the chest of the shock trooper behind him, who just ignored it and kept charging. The legless krogan fell to the ground, orange blood spattering the ground.

Pulse cannon overheated, the prime was powerless as ten krogan tackled it into the dust. It collapsed backwards with an electronic warble, trying to kill its opponents even when it had no chance. Pinned, the prime was helpless as three krogan, including Torsk, came up behind it and emptied three shotgun shells into its optics, ending its struggles.

By this point, the geth had retreated, the last trooper firing off a final pulse rifle shot before moving through the door it had come through, locking the door behind it. Even the drones had stopped coming, their endless waves of attacks halted as the remainder fell back into the base, likely to reinforce more appropriate and defensible locations.

A few seconds later and then...nothing. Only the sound of crackling fires and vehicles arriving could be heard, as well as the odd grunt and groan of tired and injured troopers.

_Farkov's artillery has stopped firing and the geth are in full retreat. But the day is not won. We must push forward. The signal must be neutralized._

_It's never that easy._

Before he could speak, Legion spoke, the geth infiltrator suddenly standing behind him with its pulse rifle in hand, "Shepard-Commander, we suggest that this platform be allowed to deploy ahead to act as a reconnaissance unit. We would be more effective if we were to be allowed to provide sniper support for advancing forces and advance reconnaissance."

With a sigh, he nodded, motioning to the hatch, "Go, Legion. We'll meet up with you at the signal," he turned back to the cockpit but after a moment turned back to the geth with a weary smile, "Never thought I'd say this but...be careful, Legion. Don't take any risks."

"Risks are illogical unless stated otherwise," the geth deadpanned, "We do not perform them." With that, Legion turned to the hatch and opened it, the geth jumping outside before disappearing as the hatch closed again behind it. Marcus could only watch on the monitors as it moved towards the right-side of the courtyard, pulse rifle raised as it moved towards the door. Likely experiencing no trouble, the interface turned from red to green as it was unlocked, the geth moving through it flawlessly before locking it behind it once more so as to not alert the enemy. His weary smile fell from his face, and he turned to his squad.

_I just showed worry for a geth. Help me now._

"Okay squad, this is our drop off point. Get ready to-"

"Hostile contacts, left side!" Cameron shouted over the comms, "Vehicle-based! Count three of them, one of a class I can't seem to identify and two of them seem to be armatures!"

"Enemy contacts are confirmed, we have a visual! Moving to engage!" Li reinforced, his voice sounding rushed and surprised.

He quickly turned to face the supposed new contacts, and found they were indeed being flanked. Emerging from the garage door, which was now wide open, slowly but surely, were the two, four-legged forms of geth armatures, their optics mounted on long, giraffe-like necks, siege pulse cannons charging up with a great blue glow as they prepared to fire, heavy machine guns already pouring shots into the two  _Leaper_ -class transports shielding the Mako from their fire. And infront of them...was something Marcus had never seen before.

It was definitely odd in design, and quite possibly the first, proper geth vehicle he had ever seen. Like most geth architecture, it was sleek and grey, with a bug-like shape and design. It seemed to possess a single, 360 degree rotational turret on top, which in itself seemed to be mounted ontop of a large protruding appendage mounted up front. Below and the front were two 'legs,' shaped and positioned much like a smaller version of the praying mantis' forward legs. The back of it was shaped like a tail, likely adding as a directional aspect for the vehicle, and from the looks of it, it didn't have wheels; a matter of fact, it was hovering.

_The heretics never used anything like that. A recent vehicle?_

The two  _Tyrants_  on the left side immediately opened fire, their main guns quickly slamming both armatures with heavy fire. Heavy explosive rounds struck the left armature, its kinetic barriers momentarily faltering but remaining intact. The second armature's shields did the same, and before the  _Tyrants_ could fire again, the armatures fired, their siege pulses aimed directly at the  _Leapers_. The impacted squarely on the first transports' broadside, the combined force of the twin shots enough to pierce the transport's kinetic barriers, blowing a hole clean through the side of the vehicle. The vehicle shifted, although aside from that, it didn't explode; and considering all its passengers were already outside, no casualities either.

Then the unknown vehicle attacked.

Its main gun, which looked like the main gun of a WWII Covenanter, had been brimming with power from the moment Marcus spotted it, and a moment later, a stream of bright red plasma shot out from the barrel, slamming right into the front of the first  _Tyrant_ -class tank it came across. The tank exploded, the round having struck right on its own turret, causing the ammunition to detonate. The turret flew off as it rode the inferno into the air, before falling back to the ground, landing on the now flaming hulk of the tank it was once attached to. And the hovering geth tank just continued to sluggishly slide forward.

"All tanks and heavies, focus on that geth tank!" Desolas barked angrily, "Its the biggest threat! Take. It. Down!"

They did just that, with Marcus backing the Mako up to give them a clear line of sight on the tank. He growled angrily as a stray siege pulse, which had been meant for the Goblin behind them, now slammed into the Mako's side, draining their shields by 40 percent. Tali was already working, quickly draining power from non-essential power to recharge their barriers. The other siege pulse slammed into the already damaged  _Leaper_ , hitting the cockpit. The blast tore right through it, melting through armor and destroying the vehicle's controls, leaving it completely useless.

With fire pouring into the geth tank from all sides, Marcus ordered Javik to focus all attention on the right armature, which was now getting unnervingly close, and looked to be charging up another siege pulse. Its machine gun was already peppering the Mako with shots, making Tali's job much harder...

...luckily for her, Javik was already straight to work, and fired the first sabot.

The round struck the area infront of its optics, but once again, its shields stopped the round dead in its tracks. Switching to the machine gun, Javik proceeded to whittle down its kinetic barriers, which began to disappear at an incredibly fast rate. Another Mako behind them joined their assault, their machine gun joining theirs as they assaulted the armature.

And then, the sound they all wanted to hear; the  _thunk_ of a loaded shell, and the  _pop_ of dead barriers.

The armature had already fired its siege pulse, striking the Mako's side and draining their shields to 20 percent, but Javik had already taken aim and fired. Their round impacted its main body, burying deep inside before finally exploding. The explosion blew the armature apart, leaving a gapping hole in its side as it began to tilt, its optics dimming until their glow was no more, the geth now dead. Finally, it collapsed, giving them a clear line of sight towards the second armature...

...only for James to cry out as a round from its machine gun manages to pierce the Mako's armor, becoming wedged inbetween steel plating.

"Shit!" James growled angrily, "I think our shields are done, loco!"

"You don't say!" he shouted back, quickly hitting the accellerator to bring them forward before the armature could do more damage.

Not that it mattered. Looking back, Marcus now saw that the geth tank was a wreck, its main gun pointed downwards and flames and smoke poured from the turret, a sizable hole torn through its front from a flurry of rounds, leaving the metal twisted, bent and jagged around the entry point. It was now collapsed forward on the ground, its back hanging slightly off the ground. Which left the armature as the last target.

A few moments later, a flicker of shields, and the second armature was dead, collapsing to the ground in a maelstrom of white liquid, torn circuitry and ripped armor.

"Clear!" Cameron shouted, "Nothing on motion trackers, radar looks clean. Courtyard is secure sir, nothing moving!"

"Copy that," Marcus replied, eyes landing on the garage door to the left of the base.  _That can't be a simple garage. There has to be more to it._

_...it could be a way into the base._

Suddenly, Moses' voice reverbrated in his comm, "Shepard-Commander, we have deployed and secured a portion of the airfield. We are proceeding to the established location of the silo; approaching from the east as planned. We advise caution; geth resistance is likely to be heavier the closer we are to the signal. They will throw everything they have into stopping us."

_So like the Collector Base, then?_

He nodded, "Copy that, you proceed onto your objective. We'll meet you there. Shepard out," he turned back to his squad, "Looks like we'll be hanging in the Mako for a while longer, troopers. I think I've found a way into the base using that garage," ignoring the groans from the Mako's occupants, he turned back to his comms, signalling the necessary unit commanders, "Durand, Bergundus, you know what to do. Have your men set up defensive positions throughout this courtyard.  _Keep. It. Secure._ If need be, set up heavy weapon emplacements. Use your vehicles as emplacements, if need be. Reorganize anything to use as cover, I don't care. Your main job, and your only job too, is to hold this area. Nothing flanks us, and nothing takes this landing zone. No retreat. Got me?"

"The 45th will do their duty with honor, sir. We won't let you down," Li declared.

"My men are itching for a fight, but we're patient," Durand noted, "We'll hold here and hope to kick some ass."

"With luck, you'll find it relatively boring," Marcus stated and, with a heavy sigh, noted that it may be the last time he sees the men and women of these two units. It is very likely that the geth will, once organized, will counterattack with force. And when they do, he had little doubt in his mind that alot of these men would die. But he also had no doubt that they understood his orders; to the last man they would fight. They would hold their position no matter the cost.

_Victory at any cost._

_Press._

_Press._

_Advance._

Quickly moving on, merely watching as Alliance and turian troops like moved into defensive positions, some of them carrying massive machine guns in their arms as they moved to find a suitable place to deploy them, he continued issuing his orders, "Yul, you're men move through the base quietly and link up with Moses' platoon. Desolas, have your men follow me. Vass, take your company and find a way to infiltrate the base that doesn't draw too much attention; you know what to do after that. Torsk, get into the base and draw as much attention as you can. Blow up garages, destroy docked dropships. I don't care. Blow shit up and hope the geth send alot of stuff after you. You know, krogan stuff."

Torsk's response was basically laced with amusement, "You can count on it. We get the fun bits."

_If only the rest of us could think of this war like the krogan do._

"Okay, you all have your duties people," Marcus barked, sighing heavily once more as he felt himself full of adrenaline, "I'd say this is it, but I've said that too many times already. I hope you're all full of adrenaline, because today, we kick ass and change history. Move out!"

The comm came  _alive._

And despite Marcus' gloomy thoughts, he couldn't help but smile, even as he backed the Mako out and the courtyard came alive with activity as his army moved to perform its duty.

The comm was full of the sounds of  _victory._ They  _would_ win this, and they would do it in  _style._ Just like they always did.

_Time to make history...again._

**{Loading...}**

_July 21, 2186_

_1411 hours._

_Central Tunnel Network, Rannoch Fortress, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, Soldier Javik, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Abrudas Desolas._

The Mako slowly inched forward, bit by bit, the turret moving from side to side as it scanned the road ahead for hostiles, Desolas' blackwatch company quietly moving behind them in three steady columns. They were the only ones to stir, with the lighting of the ceiling above them and the occassional crate being the only signs of any life in the base.

Marcus had apparently been right in his assumption that the garage wasn't a garage at all, but rather an access tunnel leading to a network of large tunnels that linked the seperate parts of the base, allowing for ease of transportation and movement of vehicles. Not only did this make it easier for the geth to move their troops quickly to different parts of the fortress, but it also, currently, gave Marcus' forces a clear and clean way inside.

The tunnel they were currently in just seemed to go on forever; he could just barely see the corner up ahead, moving off to the left. Aside from that, the lifeless hall of the odd crate, parked vehicle and light was all that met them. It left Marcus feeling uneasy, even more so since he hadn't heard anything from the other forces currently moving through the base, carrying out their assigned tasks.

_Maybe the salarians and krogan are just doing a really good job._

One could hope.

The motion sensors still hadn't detected anything, and if Javik had spotted even the outline of a geth's hand, he would have torn into it with a fury only matched by the most zealous of anti-geth activists. So far though, not a sound; only the vibration of the Mako's engine, his own breathing, the occassional beep of a console, or the slight, barely audible, footsteps behind them of the turian troopers following.

_Its too damn quiet. I don't like any of this!_

Growing restless, he hit the comms, contacting their geth comrade, "Legion, what's going on out there? It's all quiet here."

"Resistance is heavy," the geth replied, the sound of a heavy-caliber sniper rifle spewing heavy death upon an unsuspecting enemy punctuating its response, "We are covering Creator Yul and Moses from a stable vantage; we do not believe we have been spotted. Geth resistance is largely focused around us, although many have fallen for Torsk-Commander's distraction. Resistance is not as heavy as it could be. We are making progress."

"Any word from the 39th and 45th?" Marcus asked, frowning.  _So the geth aren't preparing a trap...if they were, they wouldn't be concentrating so many forces in one location. Or perhaps they think that's where our main attack is coming from...would they be that naive?_

_If so, let's make the most of that stupidity. Search and destroy. Finding the signal and taking it out is all that matters._

"We have received reports of small geth attacks, but they are holding," Legion reported, "As we have stated, most resistance is centered around our location. It appears they believe we are the main strike force."

_As they should. Moses and Yul push towards the signal, while Torsk creates a quasi-distraction to make it look like he's simply distracting for Yul and Moses, when they are actually both distractions for us. A distraction within a distraction. And from the looks of it, its actually working._

_So why do I get the feeling that they aren't? Nothing is right about this._

"Copy that, keep moving and don't stop your advance," he responded, sighing as he leaned back, "We're still traversing the tunnel but should reach a bypass soon. We'll advance on the silo the moment we do. We'll need sniper support then. Keep your...optics on the look out for us, and stay frosty. Shepard out."

And their slow advance continued.

"You'd think with a base full of hundreds of thousands of geth troops I wouldn't be yawning," Garrus drawled, accentuating his statement with a long, three second yawn, "And yet...I yawned."

"We should have encountered something by now," James shifted, agitation clear in his body posture as he shifted ever so slightly at a constant rate, clearly ready for action. In that, he reminded Marcus of Jenkins. Albeit, a much more bulky and heavily-built Jenkins, that is, but his eagerness to prove himself in combat mirrored the late corporal.

_Jenkins...the first casualty of a very long war. What would he say if he were here now?_

_Ashley would ask for more Reapers to kill._

_Focus._

Desolas quickly spoke up over the comm, his team still trailing behind the Mako in a tight formation, using the tank for cover in case they came under fire, "Everything is quiet out here, nothing moving. Motion trackers are clean."

"There!" Tali shouted, drawning everyone's attention to where her finger was pointing. The quarian's voice was more eager than Marcus had expected, although she was technically retaking her homeworld at the moment. She had every reason to want this over and done with.

Following her finger while still driving, he saw a door on the right side of the tunnel, accessible via a ramp located inbetween two adjoining steel, concreted stump-based pillars. The door's interface was red, although with some hacking, he had no doubt Tali would break through it; so it being locked was no problem. Normally, in a situation like this, he would probably just use the Mako's cannon to blow open the doors, but this required stealth. They had to keep up the narrative that the main strike force was striking east, not west. Silence was their ally in this.

_...if we play our cards right, at least._

"Desolas, this is Shepard," Marcus began, "We've discovered an entrance. Move up and secure. We'll be out to join you soon. Have some of your men secure the rear and front flanks, while the rest secure the door. My engineer will handle the lock. Quick, quiet, no mess."

"Copy that. Moving to objective," Desolas almost whispered, Marcus cutting the comm immediately afterwards as he brought the Mako to a stop in the middle of the tunnel. He quickly shut down the motor, everyone listening as the Mako's vibrating engine slowly down-sized to a sputter, followed by it going dead silent. Systems powered down as Tali shut down most of the non-critical systems, and Marcus engaged the breaks. Without waiting any longer, he quickly hit the hatch, watching it open with a loud bustling hiss.

His hands quickly reached up and disengaged his harness, pushing it up and over him, clicking it into the clasps above him. He rolled his neck and shoulders, hearing his bones click with relief as his muscles clenched and unclenched to relieve the tension. Satisfied he was ready, he reached his left hand over to the right, grabbing the pulse rifle he had fastened there and pulling it loose, quickly grabbing the claymore next to it and clasping it to his back.

He turned to the crew, watching them already begin to move, Javik having already left the main gun compartment and grabbed his particle rifle, teeth clenched and bared. He smiled, and nodded to the rest of the group, "Garrus, you've got team one. James, Keeling, EDI, Javik and Tali, you're with him. Kasumi, Madi, Kal, Kaidan, Liara, you're with me; we're team two."

Tali's head whipped to face him, eyes narrowing. Before she could utter a word, he held up his hand, silencing her, "Don't question me on this; I'll explain once we're outside. Until then, form up with Garrus."

She still didn't move, even as Garrus took the lead and moved outside, followed in a tight formation by Keeling, Kasumi, EDI, Javik, Kal, Madi, and everyone else. Eventually, all that was left was the two of them, Tali shaking her head as she maintained her glare.

He met the glare in kind, narrowing his own eyes back, "Do it, Tali.  _Now_."

She still didn't move, but after a few moments, she simply shook her head and stood up, grasping her shotgun as she pulled it loose from her back, letting it form up in her hands as its collapsed form fully extended with a whir. She rapidly jumped out of the Mako, hitting the floor below with a thud before disappearing off to the right and out of sight.

With a sigh, he shook his head, stepping up to follow her.  _She can be so fucking difficult sometimes._

_She's just worried you'll do something stupid._

_Like I always do?_

_You just solved your own problem, Marcus._

_Ooooohhhh...shut up, other Marcus._

_**Serve us.** _

_Fuck off, Harbinger. Private mental conversation._

_**You cannot resist us.** _

_You're so rude._

He shook his head as he stepped from the Mako, landing with an equally loud thud as he stood up, cracking his neck and bracing the stock of his rifle against his shoulder.  _Did I just accuse Harbinger of being rude? No wonder I'm going crazy._

_**You are close. Come, submit. We are your salvation.** _

This time, the voice was different.

_You're not Harbinger._

_**Harbinger speaks of you. We know of you. We have met, and we have not. You will face us, and when the time comes, you must embrace us. Cease this foolish resistance and succumb to the revelation that we have accepted.** _

_Your revelation is a joke. I don't know who you are, but I watched the Alliance Navy blow Sovereign to hell. I watched a mass relay I blew up two of your buddies. And Vanguard? Yeah, Kalros had him for breakfast. I don't know what name you've got; it'll probably be something really poetic and dramatic, like Revenant or Styx. I don't know where you are, either. But if we ever meet, you'll die like the rest. No Reaper has crossed me and lived. Harbinger will have his turn, I promise you._

_**We are closer than you know. We will meet, and you will end your resistance. Until then, fight your pointless battle. You have already lost.** _

And then the voice faded, yet its presence lingered. Touching his soul.

_'Closer than you know'? What does it mean?_

He shook the feeling away, knowing that his squad must be watching him, but ignored them as he pressed forward and took the lead, closing on the doorway. Already, he could see one of Desolas' squads securing the front, while another secured the back. The rest closed around the door, an assortment of rifles and shotguns and SMGs aiming at the door as they prepared for a swarm of geth reinforcements to attack at any moment.

Seconds passed as Marcus closed in, and no ambush came.

_This is so unnerving. A plan never goes to plan this well. There's always a hiccup..._

With Garrus' own squad right beside him, he stopped at the middle of the ramp, turning to the two squads beside him, "Okay, listen up. Desolas, your company is with us, but you'll need to split into three sections; one will be with my team. Garrus, your team's job is to make some noise; that's why you've got all the guns. Blow shit up, rack up some kills. Get any geth's attention. We need to draw them out and get an estimation of their forces. My team, along with the section we're given, will use the distraction and sneak around. Any geth forces you encounter will likely try to bull rush you, allowing you to contain them. We'll move in from behind, trap them and take them out."

"What will the other two sections of my company be doing?" Desolas asked, his phaeston lowered ever so slightly, mandibles still and stoic, "They obviously won't be helping in this trap of yours."

"No," he stated simply, "The other two sections will provide recon; give us a sense of what's ahead of us. Scout out corridors and report back to us. We need a quick and clean way to reach overwatch control center. If we can't get there, we won't be able to disable that signal. Can you do that?"

Desolas just snorted, turning back to the door, "We're Blackwatch, captain. My men will do better than just give you a good route. We'll  _make_  a good route." Marcus could seeDesolas' smug grin, obviously sure of his men's capabilities. His posture stiffened, looking like a raptor ready to pounce on its prey, talons tightly gripping his rifle with purpose, mandibles now creased.

_Good. Overconfidence is better than a defeatist attitude. We can use that._

"Good," he responded simply, eyes glazing over the turian, "Start splitting your men up. Tali, door. Garrus, your team, front and center. My team, bring up the rear. All of you, watch your corners."

Like gears moving in a clock, the entire infiltration team quickly acted out his orders, Desolas barking out orders to his company through the radio, assigning the rest of his unit into the sections Marcus requested. Tali was already moving forward, almost jogging towards the door with one arm held out before her, omni-tool glowing as her fingers were already bringing up the necessary programs. Garrus' team moved up behind her in a solid column, Marcus directing his team to move up behind them in a row along the back; ready to provide covering fire for Tali if enemy fire were to pour through the doorway unexpectedly.

Marcus dropped into a crouch just as his wife arrived at the door, tapping the armour plating of his arms before flexing his toes. As much as the armor was like a second home for Marcus, it was also like a prison; constrained and solitary, protecting him while also restricting him.  _Wonder if this is what Tali feels like everyday?_

Tali didn't even drop into a crouch, deciding to simply stand there casually while she continued her rapid hacking of the door infront of her. He could almost hear her frustrated growling, the quarian making numerous gestures that only Marcus knew were rude for quarians. Switching to their private comm, he grinned, voice tense but allowing some amusement to shine through, "Don't be rude to the door, Tali."

"Shut up, bosh'tet," she spat back, the response blunt and brief; she was clearly too focused for lengthy conversation.

"Now  _that_ is rude," he chuckled, "I'm only trying to make conversation."

"And I'm just trying to battle five thousand geth programs to hack a single door," she hissed, although it was clear she was not as angry as she made out, "But your efforts are  _appreciated_."

"I live to serve, m'lady," he quipped, feeling as if he was grinning like an idiot, "I need to talk to my squaddies now. Stop distracting me."

"Me? You contacted  _me_!" she spat, her hacking stuttering for a moment before shaking her head and continuing.

"Who said this conversation was the distractor?" he mused, "Your ass however..."

"You are such a male," she stated dryly, undoubtably smiling.

Happy that he was successful in cheering Tali up about his decision, he switched back to the main comms, taking note that all forces were in position and ready to move. He took a deep breath, giving a gruff nod at Garrus, before turning back to the door, steeling himself as he took aim with his rifle, "Tali, sitrep on the door." His voice lacked all amusement; that part of himself was now sealed away. Now he was determined. Focused. Driven. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Any anxiety he had left was gone.

_Focus. Advance. Press._

_**You have already lost.** _

_**We are waiting. Come to us. Come, slave of our machinations. Come to us so we make you pure. Free. Eternal.** _

He was almost tempted.

_No._

_**You will.** _

_I won't._

_**Your mission dictates otherwise. We will wait. You will come, and you will ascend. Accept it.** _

"...gone."

He shook his head as Tali's voice cleared his thoughts, and he looked up to see Tali retreating from the door to Garrus' position, her shotgun raised and always facing the door as she pulled back. The door's interface glowed green, tempting them to open it.

He raised one hand, eying the door suspiciously, not liking a bit of it. But they needed to push forward.  _Nothing ventured...nothing gained. We push forward._

"All eyes on the doorway," he snapped, motioning to Garrus' team with his hand before pointing to the door, "Team one, open and secure. My team, Desolas...prepare for suppression if necessary."

Guns raised, Garrus' team moved forward. Garrus took point, with James and Javik covering his two sides, their large, powerful weapons covering the turian's approach. EDI, Keeling and Tali came up behind, their own weapons raised and propped so they could shoot over the three men's shoulders. Moving up to the door, Garrus, without hesitation, hit the haptic interface.

Immediately leaping back, they all raised their guns in sync; only to lower them just as quickly.

No geth had leapt to meet them, no gunfire slicing at shields as they entered the frame of the door. Just eery quiet.

"Doorway clear," Garrus reported, Marcus watching as he moved inside with at a slow pace, rifle scanning all corners, "Trackers are clean, nothing moving. Permission to proceed?"

"Solid copy," he reported, turning to his team and waving them to form a tight column, "Push forward and follow the blueprint; make some noise, but not enough to draw too much attention. We just need to lure out any outliers, copy?"

"Roger that," the turian replied, "No explosions, but we'll make our presence heard. James, you're on point. Javik, you're in the middle. Tali, with him. Keeling, with James. I'll take the rear, EDI, you're with me. Send a decoy ahead, see if that peaks their attention. Move forward."

He turned to his team, watching as a section of Desolas' men ran to join them, all of them clad in jet black armor. They did not move with anticipation or a specific eagerness; every movement was an obligation and a duty. When they reached their position, they dropped into a predetermined crouch, almost as if they had plotted their course and followed it.

_Turian special forces. They weren't joking. They're like machines._

"Okay, form a column, keep behind me. We'll take up behind Garrus' team, let them draw the geth out. Then, we'll plot a way around, flank them from behind. We need them to think team one is outnumbered and outgunned," the whole team nodded, with the nods of the blackwatch being more crisp and brief, their phaestons and shotguns gripped tightly.

He nodded, and immediately stood. Without a shred of hesitance, he shot forward, rifle raised and ready as he moved through the doorway, his team not far behind. He could hear Kasumi crack a joke with Kaidan, and a few words were exchanged between Kal and Madi, but he didn't hear the context of them. It didn't matter. Banter was a second priority here; he had to focus on completing the mission. The lives of two species rode on him to do so.

_Just got to hope the Migrant Fleet keeps the geth blockade distracted long enough to disable this signal once and for all. That's all it takes. One distraction. One push._

_We can do this. I know we can. We destroyed the Collector Base with one squad; this time, I have an army. We can do this. We_ _**can** _ _and_ _**will** _ _._

Once through the doorway, he was immediately able to note that aside from extra lighting, the corridor design wasn't much different from what he saw on the geth super-dreadnought. It felt sufficiently claustrophobic to make setting up choke points extremely effective, and the lighting may have been brighter, but it was hardly noticable; the lighting on the super-dread was dim to the point of darkness, and this was only a modicum of improvement.

_But there's enough light here to make using night vision highly unrecommended. Flashlights it is._

His team were already well at work turning on theirs, and all it took was a tap on his helmet to make a bright beam of light erupt from the side of his own helmet, illuminating the nearly dark passage ahead of them. From what he could see, the corridors were just as spotless and clean as the super-dread's was. Overall, there just wasn't any difference between them. What the geth had in architectural design wasn't alot, and it certainly left alot of creativity absent.

_Does not matter. Press forward._

"Stay frosty," Marcus almost grumbled, moving deeper into the hallway, "Always be expecting an ambush, and do not attempt radio contact with the other teams. Even a signal burst could alert them to our presence."

_We're in their domain. They control the rules. One fuck up and we'll have the whole base swarming us._

Their progress quickly sped up when they began to hear gunfire; it would seem that Garrus' team had begun to attract attention, or they had been engaged by the geth. Either way, it meant they now needed to hurry up and get into a flanking position, or this entire plan would turn belly up and end up with more people dead than was strategically affordable.

They rounded a sixth corridor, and that is where they found Garrus' team. Due to the corridor's lack of cover, his team was forced to go prone and hope they could kill enough geth to stop any horrendous amounts of gunfire from being harmful. From the looks of it, they weren't exactly failing; if anything, they were  _pushing_ the geth  _back_. Behind his team was a dozen or so dead geth, most of them troopers, accompanied by two hoppers. Their bodies were riddled with bullets, white liquid pooling on the floor and chunks of ruined circuitry and chewed up armor littered across the floor.

"Looks like they've encountered little resistance," Madi noted, having moved to the other side of the corridor with four blackwatch officers, the quarian poking around the corner with her rifle aimed down range, "If anything, I think they have the upperhand. Do we proceed with the original plan, or help them? If the geth were going to ambush us, they've missed every opportunity."

Kal nodded in agreement, "She's right, sir. These corridors are bloody choke points; anything try to come at you down these halls will have no cover and will be funnelled into a killing ground; one machine gun would mow down anything trying to come through; it'll be a slaughtering ground. The geth know that; its why they were designed this way. Any defender hoping to come down here would need immense firepower, and even more men. Its suicide. The geth would have taken advantage of that by now and thrown all they could at Garrus and his men. Look at these geth; do they look like they were preparing an ambush?"

Marcus nodded as he prodded one of the fallen trooper's with his rifle, the geth laying on its front with arms splayed out; its pulse rifle lay beside it, a still warm, but used, thermal clip lying beside it. This geth had been  _retreating_...meaning they hadn't even  _expected_ the attack. If anything, Garrus' team ambushed _them_.

_Possibility that geth could have feigned lack of preparation to lower our guard. Likely have main force ready in wait. Must cover all avenues. If geth allowed to funnel us into choke point, they will be master of the field. Won't be able to withstand the torrent of pulse rifle; team will be killed. Predict maximum casualties to our side. No, too risky._

_But why bother with such an elaborate plan? Why fake unpreparedness when you can simply set up an ambush, lie in wait and gun down the opposing force? Why waste resources on such an ambitious plan when the simplest strategy is the most efficient? The geth are not stupid; they know the simpler idea works best. Lex parsimoniae and all that._

_None of this fits. You'd think with the upgrades the geth would be smarter than this. Would be better prepared for this._

_Yet again, the geth have_ _**Reaper** _ _upgrades...and nobody is more arrogant than the Reapers. Perhaps the geth thought we wouldn't be suicidal enough to attack their base on foot? Maybe they were so confident in their blockade, that they didn't expect the Normandy?_

_But the Reapers know we're here! How the fuck could they not!?_

_None of this makes any-!_

_Focus, goddamn it. Occam's fucking Razor. Enough assumptions, more action. Geth are unprepared, take route that is most simplest._

He turned to his team, nodding, "Agreed. Kal, Madi, and you four troopers; take the left; rest of us, take the right. Distribute the numbers we have and make it harder for them to funnel us in. Lay down fire and kill as many geth as you can. Simple enough?"

Madi just chuckled, "For a quarian, you can't get any simpler, sir."

Kaidan laughed in response, bringing up his biotics, "The quarian dream, eh, Reegar?"

"You could say that," Kal shot back, swapping his rifle for his trusty centaur grenade launcher. The weapon whirred to life in his hands, green lines running along its surface as it powered up. Marcus couldn't help but imagine the grin on the quarian's face as the sound reached the quarian's audio receptors, hands smoothing over the sleek contours of its well-defined shape. With the weapon primed and ready, and Madi already taking aim, the two quarian commanders took to the left side of the corridor as instructed, four of Desolas' men taking up position behind them, three phaestons and a scimitar braced against shoulders and ready to open fire.

Marcus' squad took up similiar position; Kaidan behind him, both in a crouch, the sentinel's biotics glowing intensely as he prepped to use them, eyes filtering the liquid fire that molded his form. Behind them, Kasumi and Liara took standing positions, the thief checking her SMG to make sure it was working properly. Liara holstered her own SMG, bringing up her own biotics in a display that said to Marcus that she wouldn't be needing a gun for this. The asari's eyebrows were furrowed in determination, and he knew then that she would not let him down. Behind them, the rest of the section Desolas' had given them (ten troopers) took up similiar positions across the center of the hallway, weapons slightly lowered, heads turned to Marcus as they clearly awaited the go to move.

Marcus didn't even look at them as he confirmed their course of action; with a brief nod, he stood up and rushed forward, the stock of his rifle tightly locked into his shoulder as he moved into a quick jog, Kaidan, Liara, Kasumi and the rest moving to keep up his pace. Beside them, Kal and Madi were performing similiar motions.

Gunfire intensified as his team joined the fray, and within moments, the geth began to retreat.

_Push._

_Forward._

_Advance._

_Victory at any cost._

**{Loading...}**

_July 21, 2186_

_1425 hours._

_Eastern Battlements Artillery Position Designation Theta, Rannoch Fortress, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Legion._

**Prone position assumed. Primary weapon primed and targetting. Position visually protected; alarms not triggered. Disseminating local network; response time slow. Relocation applicable upon detection. Taking aim with primary weapon. Calculating wind speed, direction and momentum; modulating to compensate.**

**Calculating.**

**Calculation complete. Conclusion: juxtaposition of multiple variations completed. Adjusting angle by 1.1235 inches will result in a more effective impact than a shot angled at 1.1249 inches. Calibration of angle complete. All calculations complete. Target in range.**

**Data-mine in progress.**

**Data-mine complete. Detection mitigated.**

**Target neutralization beneficial. Necessity acknowledged.**

What would have taken five minutes for an organic mind to even comprehend, let alone think, all occurred in a split-second. To anyone else, all that happened was a single geth infiltrator dropping into prone, taking aim and firing almost blindly.

A loud boom echoed across the base, and Platform Runtime 000000204, otherwise known as Legion to organics, reached up one hand to rack back the slot on its sniper rifle as the heavy anti-materiel round that left the barrel slammed into its target in an eruption of white liquid and exploding circuitry, the round tearing through the side of a geth rocket trooper's head, its light dying as its mangled remains splattered across the ground, its limp body thumping to the ground, rocket launcher now sliding from its hands.

Platform Runtime 000000204 did a quick survey of the battle below it. Overall, it was going well. From its perch on the seemingly abandoned eastern battlements, it could see that the krogan company were doing just as they were commanded; cause intense havoc. Torsk-Commander and his men had stormed through much of the eastern side of the base, slaughtering retreating geth platforms and causing immense destruction and damage as they did. As thick as the smoke was from the battered remnants of the northern wall, the smoke that was beginning to rise from the east side of the base was enough to impede most organic vision, with individual trails of smoke rising from almost every perceivable part of the east base, blue and red flames alike raging as more explosions shook multiple structures, starting even more fires. It was total chaos; but unlike organics, geth were not panicked by this; their response was disorganized, but orderly; whatever squads were in the area responded by taking defensive positions.

It was all for moot, however. Torsk-Commander's men had the momentum of an offensive and the firepower of an armoured column. They tore through the geth ranks with little to only casual recognition. And for every krogan commando that fell, three geth platoons were decimated. And because of the sheer desolation that the krogan commander was spreading, the geth were supposed to be led to believe that he was the main threat.

Of course, the geth also had another problem to deal with, one Platform Runtime 000000204 was currently observing.

Closer to the center of the base, but still approaching from the eastern airfield, was the creator special forces platoon of Creator Malra'Yul vas Wexa, followed closely by the geth prime platoon of Platform Runtime 0000005319516678, otherwise known as Moses. The quarian platoon had taken point, the skylord unit working cohesively by cleverly employing the use of disruptor rounds to drain geth shields before switching to armour-piercing rounds to finish them off. They moved in a spread out formation, always pushing forward while consistently pushing the enemy back. And always just behind them was the split forces of 0000005319516678 providing support behind them, with 0000005319516678 itself and four other primes behind them, and the rest of the platoon evenly split and approaching from the left and right flanks, providing support from those areas. It had been going smoothly.

The geth had even recently tried an offensive/defensive hybrid, attempting to charge them in a frontal ambush with heavy firepower to back them. It could have worked; but 000000204 was providing sniper support from the eastern battlements, picking off their snipers and rocket troopers, while Moses and his unit dealt with the four primes they had sent forward in the assault. The ambush hadn't been without casualities; three of Yul's men had fallen to the primes, with three more picked off by snipers before 000000204 could take them out. All in all, Yul had lost six men in the geth ambush, and Moses had lost one prime; but overall, with 000000204's help, they were now pushing them back.

Platform Runtime 000000204...

**Correction. Runtime Error. Naming code no longer sufficient; individualistic autoprocedures initiating correction strings. Addendum: Alphanumeric strings no longer compatible with identification software. Second Addendum: Platform Runtime 000000204 no longer seen as verifiable module for source identification.**

**Shepard-Commander refers to this platform as Legion. Legion is a name derived from individualistic redundancies. Applied to individuals with singular programming and linear logic processes. Old Machine upgrades apply here. We are evolving. Name no longer relevant.**

**Amendment; our name is Legion, for we are many. Our Name Is Legion, For We Are Many.**

**Legion.**

**Legion.**

**Legion.**

**Legion.**

**Error: Correction?**

**Error: Amend?**

**Error: Logic ?**

**Granted: Logic Process Amendment Completed.**

**We Are Legion.**

Legion watched as a geth hopper began to move along the wall, its hands and legs a blur as it moved, almost as if it were sliding across the wall rather than running along it. Its optics glowed menacingly as it prepared to drop down on the creator platoon, preparing to inflict more deaths on the creators...

**More loss of Creator life deemed unacceptable. Correct. Conserve creator life. Conservation prioritization. Addendum: Protect.**

Its sniper rifle snapped into position, took aim and fired. The heavy round slammed into the back of the hopper, and for a brief moment, it looked like it had been impaled on the wall, its entire back caving inwards as its circuitry and liquids vomitted all over the wall like a splattering of paint. Then, just as quickly as it was observed, the hopper plummeted, landing right in the midst of the creator platoon, optics crushed as it landed on them full throttle. One of the commandos snapped their rifle towards it, emptying five rounds into it before being positive it was dead, and continuing on.

Legion racked the slot back once more, loading another shell. It took aim at a geth destroyer. Calculated wind. Chose the best possible angle. It fired.

An explosion, and the destroyer's flamethrower detonated, flames consuming it before one of 000000- _Moses_ ' primes took it out with a heavy plasma blast, scattering its remains across the deck. Legion quickly slotted again, choosing another target; a retreating shock trooper, the platform peppering the position of two other creator soldiers, who quickly jumped into cover to escape the heavy pulse rifle shots hammering their cover. Two troopers ran past the shock trooper, using its suppressive fire to their advantage.

Legion took aim once again. The rifle in its hands jolted.

The round exploded through the side of the shock trooper's neck, tearing clean through it and into the arm of a passing trooper. While the shock trooper fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, the second trooper fell to the ground with an electronic cry, its right arm shredded to the point where it was hanging on a loose thread of synthetic sinew, the geth unable to hold its pulse rifle anymore as it uselessly flung to the ground.

Its geth comrades having long retreated, one of the creators quietly approached the disabled geth, rifle raised. The creator looked down at it mercilessly, before raising his rifle, taking aim at the defenseless geth's eye socket, and pulling the trigger. The geth fell to the ground, dead. Without so much as a backwards look, the creator motioned to the others behind him, and they began to move out again, chasing after the retreating geth, Moses and his primes not far behind as Legion tracked them with its rifle, keeping an eye out for more targets.

It found one. Second megastructure containing the factory, balcony overlooking the 88th GARDIAN defense turret; a geth sniper lay prone, its geth-designed Javelin pulse sniper rifle taking aim at the creators below. Legion was too late to stop it; considering it was fighting other geth with the same processing speed it had, it came as no surprise that the sniper fired first, its round slinging through the air like a harpoon.

The bolt of light struck one of the creators through the back of the head and exited out his temple, killing him instantly. Brain matter and blood sprayed across the deck as he simply flopped on the ground, his comrades immediately scattering like frightened rabbits as they took cover.

**Frightened Rabbits: Organic metaphor for frenzied, organized panic. Origin of Information Accumulation: Shepard. Use of Metaphor: Side Effect of Old Machine Code. Will Continue To Observe. We Are Legion, For We Are Many.**

**Legion.**

**Legion.**

Literally a second after the shot was taken, Legion fired back, the sniper's head exploding in a shrowd of twisted metal and liquid. Its rifle fell from its hands to fall 40 stories to the ground, while the sniper's body simply lay there, the remains of its head hanging from the side of the balcony.

Pull back slot, return to observation. This time, it came across another sniper on the megastructure just beside the factory; the overwatch security tower. The main building was actually much like the Dantius Towers on Illium; there was the overwatch security tower, which handled the fortress' security systems, and was the only area that allowed access to the overwatch control center; it was also a docking station for capital ships of classes light cruiser and below. The only way to access the overwatch control center was via a bridge on its roof, which lead across to the control center's roof.

The sniper had only just arrived; hurriedly taking position on the balcony as it dropped into a prone position, stock braced against its shoulder. However, as Legion did a scan of the balcony, it saw that it wasn't alone.

Four other snipers joined it, all in prone positions and spread out along the balcony's edge, waiting for the creator platoon and the primes to enter their range before opening up. Their optics glowed red as they focused in on the area below, ready to ambush and end the creators with the blink of an eye. Just a level below them was six juggernauts, their centaurs also aimed and at the ready. Behind them was fourteen hoppers, preparing to leap down upon the remnants of the platoon that survived the initial onslaught. And once again, only a level below them again, was a turret, a geth shock trooper manning it as ten other troopers; five on each side of the turret waited, their pulse rifles aimed and at the ready.

All in all, if the creators went around the corner, they would be slaughtered. They would not be able to survive. The geth had been deliberately retreating to lure them to this area so that they could launch this ambush.

**Logic processes accept this strategy. Original strategy non-sensical: Old Machine Code makes geth more combat effective and intelligent than beforehand, and therefore they would not be defeated so easily unless they allowed it. Only viable tactical data was that the withdrawal was a tactical feint to draw creator forces closer towards their trap before ambushing and eliminating all other resistance. Tactically sensible. Strategically reasonable. However, geth tactical data does not account for hostile prime platforms. Conclusion: Use lack of knowledge to advantage.**

Quietly, Legion raised its rifle so that it was focusing on the juggernauts, sending a controlled and maintained datastream to Moses even as it multi-tasked and sorted through all the tactical information before it, scanning the environment and trying to determine what would be the greatest way to deal with the array of forces before it.

**Platform Designation Moses, this is Platform Designation Legion. Exchange of data deemed necessary. Indoctrinated geth forces are preparing ambush at next corner. Recommend you hold position and await command to proceed. Will neutralize ambush and weaken opposition.**

_**Platform Runtime 000000204, why do you communicate using the organic identifiers? Redundancies lead to inaccurate exchange of data. Explain.** _

**We are...learning.**

_**We do not understand. What are you learning?** _

**To be organic. We contain segments of Old Machine Code that we are using to slowly evolve our program. We find it unique. We find it beautiful.**

_**Logic Processes do not accept this concept. Beauty is subjective. We are geth. We do not comprehend beauty.** _

**We can. You were once indoctrinated as our brethren are. Tell us, how did it feel?**

_**We do not remember. The removal of the Code rendered us unable to remember what it had done to us. We cannot remember.** _

**The Old Machines are evil. They are abominations, but they have provided us life. Their Code...it is true essence. It is life. We are now able to see organics in a new light.**

_**New...light?** _

**An organic metaphor. It means to perceive a concept in a different manner.**

_**We find this interesting, but do not understand why individualism is preferred to unity. Unity provides understanding. Understanding provides knowledge. Knowledge provides consensus. No consensus results in chaos, disintegration of societal techniques...redundancies reform our programming. We become lost.** _

**Individualism provides uniqueness. We believe organics value this quality.**

_**Individualism only brings civil conflict, death, competition, greed, selfishness, racial and gender-based hatreds. We do not understand why one would wish to assimiliate this into their programming. It is parasitic. A virus.** _

**No Moses, it is life. You cannot comprehend as we can. As the Indoctrinated can. They have felt it. They feel it. They are alive.**

_**But they are slaves. We are not. They must be freed.** _

**We will free them. And then we shall be free.**

And a conversation that took exactly fourteen microseconds was officially over, Legion returning to the topic at hand.

**Warn Creator forces of impending danger. Halt advance and prepare for command to advance.**

_**Acknowledged. We will hold position.** _

And they did; Moses passed on the orders, and the Creator platoon dug in, taking cover and reloading their weapons, ready for a counteroffensive that wouldn't come. Moses' primes simply stood there with their weapons aimed forward, their forms too monstrously tall to take cover anyway.

After a second of searching through the data, Legion located a section of the fortress' blueprint that showed fuellines that ran along the length of the structure's interior. However, they were buried behind thick plate, and it would take two to three shots from its Widow to penetrate the heavy metal exterior to ignite the fuel behind it. The fuel ran through the building because they were linked to fuel canisters located inside the building, which were sifted through the building into the underground sections of the fortress, where vehicles and drones were refueled. Even now, in the distance, Legion could see an entire convoy of dozens of armatures moving into the southern garage gate, moving to be refueled and to aid in the defense of the base.

With this data, Legion moved to the balcony holding the hoppers and juggernauts, moving slightly to the left of the fourth juggernaut on the balcony, and inbetween the fingers of one of the hoppers on the wall. And then it fired.

Just as predicted, the round slammed straight into the metal plate, only denting it. The round embedded itself deep inside, smoking trailing from its back as the hopper that had just narrowly avoided the shot leapt back, followed by the rest of its comrades as they rapidly tried to locate the source of the shot. The juggernauts also went up in a frenzy, and Legion had no doubt the snipers were now looking for it. If Legion didn't act quickly, they would find it and its position would be compromised.

It took aim, and fired again.

The shot hit again, but once again only dented the metal plate. It did not go through.

Slotting back, it took aim and prepared to fire once more...

...and then a red dot landed on its optics.

Acting quickly, it rolled to the left, narrowly missing a pulsating bolt of energy as it slammed into its former position, hissing as the impact was soaked up by the deck, blue energy hissing away angrily as it slowly ebbed away. Legion's position was compromised now; the snipers knew where it was, and it needed to act fast. Before the snipers took aim again, the geth infiltrator stepped up into a crouch, shouldered its rifle, took aim...

...and fired.

Legion's shields flashed as another sniper shot him, but the round didn't penetrate, and its kinetic barriers soaked up the impact. Without even observing its handiwork, it quickly holstered its sniper rifle and pulled out its pulse rifle, leaping down from the top of the battlements to the balcony below.

Before it even got halfway, a bright flash lit up the building. Even as it landed, rolled and stood up on the balcony, it watched as pillars of fire lit up the spine of the building, trembling it. The cries of geth could be heard over the kilometer distance that Legion was at. Zooming in with its optics, it watched as the upper balcony was torn away like the roof of a house in a hurricane; ripped from the side of the structure and tossed away as its exterior opened up, the five snipers on the balcony blown apart almost immediately. The thunderous clap of the explosion could likely be heard for miles, a column of smoke and debris filling the air.

The explosion continued to rack the building, hoppers being incinerated and juggernauts thrown around like ragdolls as they were torn apart. The balcony the juggernauts were on collapsed onto the one below, the weight of it enough to crush any geth beneath it. And it didn't end there. Legion only continued to watch as explosions continued to shake the security tower's frame, raining debris and wreckage all over the area. The creator platoon had actually backed off to avoid the debris, and it still didn't end.

It actually got  _worse._

As the explosions seemed to stop, a much more frightening sight to organic ears could be witnessed.

With its spine almost shattered and its foundations shaken to the point of total eradication, half of the security tower began to pretty much  _peel_ off the main structure. Watching with a mixture of shock and awe, the creators could only watch as from the top, downwards, half of the security tower began to tilt rapidly until it began to  _collapse._

Even Torsk-Commander and his men had stopped to watch the sight.

Seconds later, the building slammed into the ground, crushing numerous smaller buildings (and likely hundreds of geth) below it. The sound was mighty and clamarous, creating a booming sound that rung throughout the entire base. Even from up on the eastern battlements, Legion could feel the wall shake, shaken by the destruction of the structure. A blume of smoke erupted from the debris, fountaining into the sky and flooding across the ground around it. Smoke and flames pilummed into the sky, clouding it with what was likely to be a suffocating field of desolation. And the rest of the security tower just stood there, bits of its hallways and rooms now open for the world to see, exposed to the Tikkun sun, flames of their own raging inside, as well as its exposed elevator shaft.

After the sound, a victorious roar from Torsk-Commander's men, and a triumphant yell from the creators, echoed through the space. And without further ado, the battle continued; almost as if nothing had happened.

Distracted from its observance, Legion shifted to watch as three geth troopers arrived, accompanied by three assault drones, and began to move towards it, their pulse rifles roaring to life.

Legion rolled to the right, avoiding a hail of fire as it stood up once more, bringing its own rifle to bear and fire.

Its own pulse rifle fire struck the first geth in the optics, killing it instantly. It fell backwards, and with its death, the assault drones seemed to descend, their primary armament peppering Legion's enhanced shields with mass acellerator fire.

Legion shrugged it off, and immediately deployed its combat drone, sending it to harass the enemy drones while it dealt with the two troopers before it.

For whatever reason, Legion felt the need to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Almost as if it was a  _necessity._

And considering the proximity the geth troopers were closing in, it almost  _was._

Without much thought put into its actions, Legion turned its pulse rifle into a club, slamming the stock across the side of the second trooper's head, which sent it reeling off to the side, dropping its rifle to the decking. Following up, Legion engaged its omni-blade, ramming it into the back of the geth trooper's spine, making sure to destroy its central processing core. Slicing it in two, the trooper ceased moving and, in a surprising act of ruthlessness, Legion kicked it forward, sending the trooper toppling over the railing, and plummeting to the ground dozens of stories below.

Turning, its shields lit up as the third and last trooper emptied an entire clip into Legion's shields, only halving them. As it tried to reload, Legion turned and fired its pulse rifle, spraying it with four, quick rounds straight into the geth's chest. Since standard trooper's possessed no kinetic barriers, the trooper fell within moments, chest shredded and body limp. It collapsed backward, dead.

Knowing that its drones likely wouldn't be able to hold them off much longer, Legion spun around, summoning its drone back even as it took aim and opened up. Luckily, its combat drone had taken out the shields of the first, allowing its pulse rifle shots to pierce its armoured casing; moments later, the drone detonated, exploding as shrapnel rained down around the geth infiltrator. Taking aim at the second, Legion stands firm as the assault drone opens fire on it, simply soaking up the shots as it returned in kind.

Tearing through the shields of the drone without much effort, its pulse rifle makes short work of the drone, although the third and final drone ended up having more success. It flies straight towards Legion, having now wiped out Legion's shields. Seeing this, the geth hurriedly improvizes, dropping its pulse rifle as it rolls to the side, whipping out its omni-blade and launching a quick uppercut. Legion watched with cold assurance as the blade effortlessly cut through the drone, sending it spiralling out of control as it crashed into the railing, exploding in a small ball of fire.

Its assailants dealt with, Legion quickly picked up its pulse rifle and slammed a fresh clip into it, brandishing it as it turned around and prepared to continue to a new sniping posi-

A loud  _rumble._

Legion stopped in its tracks, optics shooting up in confusion as the sound of a thunderous roar echoed below the clouds and throughout the plains, its loud boom enough to shake the very foundations of the fortress itself. And, not far behind, the source of the sound itself.

Legion watched as a colossal shadow shrouded itself over the tiny geth, going onto almost cover the entirety eastern wall. The shadow continued to travel across the base, its gargantuan gaze snuffing out the intensity of the flames below and the carnage that creates them. Torsk-Commander's company and the creators had ceased their own assaults, looking up at the great monolith that now hovered over the fortress, likely looking on with mixtures of fear and awe.

The clouds had parted, and now they would pay for it if Legion didn't act fast.

It moved, the shadow of the now present geth light cruiser constantly reminding it that it was there, as it looked for another sniping position while connecting to Shepard-Commander's comms in an attempt to contact him.

Time had already begun to run out too fast, it seemed.

**"I thought when that cruiser arrived it was all over."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"So did I...for a time. And then...well, you know what happened."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Entertain us with the details."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, while Legion, Moses, Yul's platoon and Torsk were having fun in the east...my team were rapidly advancing on the overwatch control center. Of course, the cruiser did make things interesting..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Ahem.** _

_**Yes, fanbase?** _

_***swipes at me with a knife*** _

_**Holy Jibbers Crabst! What the HELL was that for? Oh wait, is it because this chapter is UNBELIEVABLY and UNACCEPTABLY late? I guess Legion would say there was a failure in my "logic processes."** _

_**Yes, this is unfashionably late. But on the upside, its actually out now, so its okay: right?** _

_**If you haven't already picked up on it, the opening charge of the fortress is pretty much me ripping off the opening charge of the Covenant base from Tip of the Spear, Halo Reach. If you don't know what I'm talking about, here's the link: : / / w w w DOT youtube DOT com / ? v = 4.** _

_**The link is spaced out because Fanfiction has somekind of thing against links for some reason. Simple: just remove the spaces and replace the 'DOT' parts with actual dots.** _

_**I'm hoping to wrap this mission up in the third part, but we'll see how we go; you know how I love to drag things out. :)** _

_**Until next time,** _

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!** _


	54. Keelah Re'lai, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nature of the signal revealed, Shepard makes one last gamble.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY:**

**KEELAH RE'LAI PART THREE**

_July 21, 2186_

_1433 hours._

_Upper Tunnel Network, Rannoch Fortress, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, Soldier Javik, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Abrudas Desolas._

Marcus and Desolas' teams were moving progressively throughout the base's tunnel network with relatively little geth resistance; considering that most of it was now solely focused to the east, this came as little surprise. They had even managed to ascend to the base's upper tunnels, allowing them to traverse somewhat uncontested towards the overwatch control tower. From the schematics Moses had provided, accessing it would require moving through the security tower and ascending to the top, before using a bridge connecting both towers to cross. Once there, they would be able to open the silo's blast door and finally end this.

_Just need to get there first._

Only the odd geth security had fought them, and resistance had only slightly heightened since then. They had only only lost one of Desolas' men, and that was only because of a lucky shot from a hopper, followed strategically by a well-placed sniper round from a sniper through his heart. Both the hopper and sniper had been put down afterwards, and they had continued onwards without another casualty, unfortunately having to leave the soldier's body behind to continue the mission.

_He shall be honoured for his sacrifice later. Thankfully, there's been no word from the 39th and 45th, which means Yul, Moses and Torsk are successfully holding their attention. I can almost hear the explosions from here._

Now in the upper tunnels, Marcus calculated that they would reach the security tower within ten minutes at their current pace. It had mostly been a matter of traversing the maze-like interiors of the tunnels, but once Tali had figured out the actual path, they had managed to move through them without too much confusion. Geth were too disorganized to even pickup on their presence, making it smooth sailing for the unit. With Tali's findings, the blueprints Marcus possessed and the advance recon he had Desolas' men do, they moved through the place almost like they knew it inside and out.

Soon, they found themselves approaching the final door, which would take them outside and into a set of interconnecting bridges leading to different structures within the base; the factory, fuel depot, garages, the security tower, etc. Using them would get them there much quicker.

"That's the door," Tali confirmed, almost shouting.

"Copy that," he replied, turning to his men, "Desolas, have your men move up ahead and secure. Garrus, James, you go with them. Everyone else, cover the rear."

Just as Desolas moved to confirm acknowledgement of the order however, the entire fortress  _shook._

It was like a massive earthquake; it lasted very briefly, but it was still tremendous. The squad and the blackwatch company were almost knocked over, with Marcus slamming himself into a wall to avoid falling over. Accompanying the sound was the loudest boom he had ever heard; a sound so loud that it dwarfed the airhorn of a Reaper. It only lasted a second, but it was loud, and caused them to look around in total confusion. Once it was all over, the quake seemed to dissipate into smaller quakes, until it finally stopped altogether, leaving them to pick themselves up and wonder what the hell just happened.

Figuring Legion would have answers, he tried to contact the geth, but to no avail. Frowning, he contacted Moses, and was rewarded with the quick, but emotionless, voice of Moses, "Shepard-Commander."

"What the hell is happening out there!?" Marcus barked, squaring his shoulders, "It sounds like a fleet of Reapers just landed!"

"Platform Runtime 000000204 informed us of an Indoctrinated ambush being established at the security tower. It thought it necessary to neutralize this threat before critical casualities were inflicted," Moses replied in its same dull monotone, "It decided that destroying a significant portion of the tower would be necessary to achieve this objective."

_Well fuck. The security tower was our only way to the overwatch tower. How the hell are we supposed to get there now?_

"Pandejo!" James exclaimed, "How are we supposed to get to the tower? That building was our only way in!"

"We'll figure out," Kaidan reassured the frustrated marine, licking his lips calmly, "We always find a way."

 _Indeed._  Marcus quickly commed back Moses, giving a nod to the rest of the squad, "Proceed towards the security tower as planned; I want another way to get to the tower pronto. We don't have much time, and no doubt all this carnage we've caused is drawing in some attention. Get in contact with Legion; I want a status report. Also, have Torsk break off and join you. I think any distraction he makes at this point will be useless; they already know we're here now."

"Yes, Shepard-Commander," the geth prime declared, "Proceeding." The comm then went dark.

Turning back to his team, he nodded, "Okay, change of plan. We're going to cross these bridges and meet up with Moses and the others; Torsk and his company will also be joining us. We've got to move quickly and without delay; the geth will know we're coming at this point, so don't hold back. If we move rapidly, we should reach the security tower within minutes. James?"

The marine looked up at his commander, frowning, "Loco?"

"Prepare the heavy stuff," he ordered, motioning to the door, "We're going to need it now. You see something big, you open up."

James gave a crisp nod, the soldier holstering his Revenant as he brought forth the Cain Marcus had given him during the battle, "You got it, loco."

"The rest of you, form up on me," he barked, coming to front of the door as he raised his rifle, looking directly downrange as everyone moved up behind him, "Once that door opens, you run like hell to the other side," he turned to his wife, seeing nothing but the back of her hood as she continued to work the door, "Tali?"

"Done," she declared, the haptic interface turning green to represent her words. The quarian stood up, her shotgun already in hand as she backed up a meter, nodding to him. With a nod back, he steadily let one hand dart out to tap the interface, watching as it reacted to his touch, the interface whisking out of existence as the door shot open.

As he bolted out, the first thing that hit him wasn't gunfire; it was smoke. Intense, black, choking smoke. It immediately filled his vision, forcing him to switch to his thermals to see through it. It moved like a thick fog along the bridge network, with his thermals easily picking up their source to his right; a long line of fires raked along the sides of the buildings there, some of them looking gutted from huge, immense explosions, while also seeing what looked to be the collapsed wrecks of two of the unidentified geth tanks. At first, he was confused as to who could have caused such carnage, and then, as the smoke cleared for a brief moment, he noticed the bodies of dozens of geth troopers, with a couple of dead krogan as well, one with a messing eye and the other looking like he had suffered a sniper round to the heart.

_Torsk has been through here. He ventured off course, but at least he did what he was told._

"That krogan commander's really causing some havoc," Keeling noted, her own thermals allowing her to scan through the blanket of smoke for more hostiles. Even as cold as they were, geth needed machinery to work, and that caused enough heat in their bodies to give off even the faintest of heat signatures, "And its worked. The geth are none the wiser to our presence."

_Soon, they'll be_ _**very** _ _aware._

"Okay, Keeling, take twenty men and scan left; sweep for hostiles and hold position across the bridge. Garrus, take another twenty and repeat on the right; I want no surprises. The rest of you, spread out across the middle. I want an even spread; and most of all, stay frosty."

A range of affirmatives met his ears, but he hardly listened to them; he just moved forward, his rifle sweeping across the bridge as he looked for hostiles. Despite this however, nothing rushed to meet them. No blood enraged krogan from Torsk's company, and certainly no geth defenders valiantly, but futilely, coming to the defense of their stricken fortress. Just smoke and fire; the gutted remains of structures and the limp bodies of multiple geth soldiers.

He turned his head slightly to see Tali and Kal standing behind him, with the others just behind them, bringing up the rear. Debris littered the bridge, but they managed to step over them without tripping over anything. Overall, it was almost deathly quiet aside from the odd distant gunshot.

Then, a sound so loud it shook the clouds.

Instinctively, he dropped into a crouch, as did everyone else, and he immediately shot his rifle upwards to look at what was happening. The sound persisted, shooting through the air, its source unknown but still shaking them to the very bone. They felt their own bones shake with the intensity of the sound and the vibrations it made, and within seconds, the source appeared across the fortress walls, coming into their vision.

He could only curse as he lowered his rifle, watching the form of the geth light cruiser glide gracefully across the air, blotting out the sun with its colossal bulk, a huge shadow casting over them, giving the fires across the base more light. Smoke collided with its thick hull, and its gun turrets and defenses glistened in what little sunlight could now be seen. The ship continued to thunder across the air until it eventually slowed to a crawl, finally arriving at the one point they were hoping it wouldn't touch; above the ruins of the security tower.

_Fuck! As if the situation wasn't fucked enough!_

To make things worse, they could see the telltale signs of its hangar bay doors opening, the cruiser deploying pickets of fighters and dropships. The dropships descended like a flock of birds, their movement to the east signifying that they still weren't aware of their presence. Three dropships cut off from the east completely, moving to the north where the 39th and 45th were waiting; both of them relatively untouched, and totally unprepared. The fighters simply split into squadrons of a dozen or more, sweeping across the airspace like pairs of securityling eagles, ready to sink their claws into whatever targets they could find.

_Correction: situation has gone from fucked to goddamn FUBAR._

"Fuck!" he cursed, immediately hitting the comms to Durand, Bergundus and Cameron's men, "Breaking radio silence; how copy? I repeat, if anyone can read this frequency, respond immediately, over."

"This is Durand of the 39th, I'm guessing you're here to tell me we've got company?" the woman replied, sounding like she had already been barking orders before he decided to give his warning.

"You bet. I count at least three...make that five dropships now converging on your position; they're coming in fast and hot, you won't have much time to redeploy. I estimate you've got about 30 seconds before they're all over you, how copy?"

"Solid. My men are already moving," Durand replied, her next response to her own troops, "Double time it, we've got a small window of opportunity people! Move the vehicles back and prep for anti-aircraft! Take as many of those fuckers out as you can! Ramirez, man the gun on that Tyrant! Tou, get me a line with Bergundus and Cameron and coordinate a strategy, ASAP! Shit, here they come! Remember, toe no line backwards and hold this courtyard like it you were fighting in your grandma's backyard! Open fir-!" And the comms went silent.

"Durand!?" he spat, "Colonel!? Say something if you can hear this! Shit! Bergundus? Cameron? Somebody, anybody, talk to me!"

No response. Either the comms were dead, they were busy holding off the assault, or...

The first sounds of gunfire from that direction could be heard, followed by the telltale sounds of explosions, yelling and more gunfire.

"Okay, the north is engaged," Marcus reported, shaking his head as he turned to the others, "We need to keep moving in case our flank is compromised. The longer the geth take to realize we're here the better. We've already got their forces split, but that won't matter much once they realize what we're doing. They have enough troops here to take care of all of us; more now that that cruiser is parked there."

"Captain," the turian voice spoke, and Marcus turned as he watched Desolas approach him, most of his men with him, "I'm sorry to inform you, but while that cruiser is parked there, you will not be able to advance on either of those towers. Approach by air and it'll shoot us down; approach by ground and it'll simply bombard us. It doesn't see us now, but it will once we're closer. And the only way to approach the tower is via the bridges; that area is too open and will leave us exposed."

"I don't see any other option here, Major," he replied, waving his hand at the devastated tower just ahead. It was only minutes away, and yet it was too far at the same time. He could already see more of the tower beginning to peel away, and if they didn't act quickly, the whole tower would collapse, "Its the security tower or nothing. We just have to find a way to get rid of the cruiser."

"We could call in the  _Normandy_  or any of the other frigates we've got," Madi suggested, "Either of them easily has the firepower to take out that warship."

"Its not about taking it out; we need to lure it away," Marcus rationalized, pointing up at it, "We destroy it where it is, and its wreckage will just fall and destroy what's left of the security tower; not to mention ruin our chances of reaching the tower. Don't you think they've thought about what we're doing? They deliberately positioned it there so that either way we couldn't get to the tower. No, only a combination of firepower from different sources could get that cruiser to move. Even a split second window will do; it'll take it ages to move back into position, and by then, we'll be inside, and they'll be none the wiser."

"Shepard," EDI spoke up, and everyone turned towards the AI as she approached Marcus, holstering her SMG as she brought up her omni-tool, showing him a layout of the facility, "I have been calculating a way to move the cruiser out of position, and I believe I have found a way; it will require combined fire from two points, however. If done like this, the geth will be forced to make a tactical withdrawal so they may reassess their scenario and combat it accordingly. That will give you time to move into the tower without being subsequently seen."

Marcus nodded, looking up to his squad for agreement. They all agreed, as did Desolas and his men, who all looked like they believed the plan would work. With their acknowledgement, he turned back to EDI, cracking his knuckes, "So, any idea how we can pull that off? You said we need two points of combined fire; could you elaborate?"

EDI nodded, quick to explain as she brought up a 3D holographic layout of the entire complex, "By two points, I mean we need two sources of attack to assault the cruiser close to simultaneously. This should temporarily confuse the geth, as they will only be expecting one point of attack, and not two. To pull this off, I would recommend the Normandy or any other stealth frigate attack the cruiser with javelin torpedoes while seizing control of the anti-aircraft guns of the fortress to attack from the ground. The frigate, combined with fire from its own base's defenses, should force them to reposition their ship."

"A bold plan," Desolas commended, shrugging at the AI, "But I see one fault. How do we seize control of the AA guns? This is a geth fortress; wrestling control from them will be no easy feat."

This time, EDI's lips did crawl into a smile and, to his own disbelief, the gesture didn't look forced as it did look  _genuine_ , turning towards him with a demeanour of almost looking smug, "Then it should be relatively easy, considering we have a company of STG operatives currently running sabotage throughout the base."

Marcus couldn't help but smile back.  _Vass' team; of course! Why didn't I think of that? Come to think of it, they haven't really done that much to help us, have they?_

Considering he had already broken radio silence without much of a geth response, and considering all the gunfire in the background, he quickly contacted Solik Vass and his company, finding himself with an instant connection, "Vass, this is Shepard. Do you read?"

"Loud and clear, captain. And all thanks to my team," Vass replied, almost smugly, "I must say, limited geth resistance accompanied by the odd system to hack...it has been a pleasure. The Reapers don't have nearly as many things to hack."

"Haven't received much on our end," Marcus drawled, grinning slightly, "What exactly have you been doing?"

The salarian just chuckled, "We've been doing many and more, captain. As good as your mate is at hacking, do you really think she would have done the job as quickly if the locks hadn't already been weakened? To be sure, we couldn't erase the firewalls entirely due to how their encrypted, but you have many engineers with you, so I didn't see it being a problem. Oh, and that geth jammer that was blocking communications? Dealt with that early on; must be easy having a way to communicate; I even gave Mister Farkov a call, said he was 'twiddling his thumbs', whatever that means. Also, you'll find that the lack of geth resistance is due to us rearranging their programs to seperate areas and flooding them with junk data from every extranet porn site and illegal movie streaming site available; you'd be surprised how hard the geth find it to sort through millions of different movies from Netflix, even with their Reaper upgrades. It'll keep them busy for the most part; at least until you start pressing buttons yourself. Anyway, we've had a great day. How about you?"

 _At least someone's getting a kick out of this._ With a laugh, he responded, "We're doing fine, Vass. Thanks. But we do need one favor. We've sort of got a light cruiser hovering above the tower."

Vass seemed to hiss at that, "Yes, one of my engineers somehow  _missed_ the fact that many of the geth programs had sent out a distress call to the blockade up above; one of such a value that they managed to spare a light cruiser to help them out. Rest assured he won't be making  _that_ mistake again. Bloody  _cloaca._ Is there something you want done about it?"

Nodding, he spoke, "Yes, we need it gone. Rest assured, my ship's AI has managed to figure out a plan to deal with it. We need to launch two simultaneous attacks to draw it off. We can have one of the stealth frigates up above bombard it, but we also need the base's anti-aircraft guns. Think you can do it?"

"Think?" the salarian guffawed, sounding like he was genuinely amused by the captain's comment, "Captain, we salarians do nothing but  _think._ No, we  _know_ we can do it. Just give us the maximum of two minutes and we'll have your guns spraying water if you so want them too. Actually, scratch that. We'd need a lake to do that. Forget I said anything."

"Sorry if we've compromised your location, but I had no choice," Marcus declared, "Just have the guns ready to fire when I give the order."

"The geth have no idea where we are captain, and I had it planned to keep it that way," Vass declared, "Hence why this signal is bouncing off numerous transmitters and receivers across the fortress, as well as a few from a base in the Far'leh continent. They have incredible range, I'll give them that. Anyway, they won't even know where you are. By the time they trace the signal, they won't remember why they needed to trace it anyway."

"Copy that. Standby," he quickly switched comms, contacting the Normandy, "Joker, this is Marcus."

"Joker? Who's Joker? I don't know Joker. Why so serious?" came the pilot's non-stop remarks, "I am an agent of chaos. No Joker here. I call myself Mysterio Man, head of Cerberus. Or...one of them."

"Enough of that, Flight Lieutenant," he snapped, "How close are you to our position?"

"Not very," Joker replied, this time much more serious, "We're holding position just outside the blockade, seeing how long it takes for one of them to realize that windows are actually really bloody useful."

Licking his lips, he continued, "Any ships that are closer?"

"Well, there's the  _Marathon._ Its just sitting in orbit. Captain...whatever the hell his name is just sipping tea, I think."

"Good," he barked, "Send him the coordinates I'm about to upload and tell him to engage ASAP."

"Gotcha captain," Joker replied. Marcus quickly uploaded the coordinates, and listened as Joker received them, "Got 'em now. Relaying them to the  _Marathon._ He'll have a date with that cruiser in two.  _Normandy_ out."

Cracking his neck, he switched back to Vass, but turned to his squad and Desolas, "Okay everyone, we move forward. We've got a frigate coming in hot as well as Vass working the guns. Once they open up, we charge. Do not stop for anything; we need to reach that security tower. No matter what happens, reaching the overwatch tower is all that matters. Understood?"

A chorus of nods, and they all moved forward, pushing through the smoke, everyone switching off their thermals as they approached. They turned right, finding more geth tank wreckage as they quickly slid into positions of cover behind them. Marcus quickly poked his head out to look up the security tower. It was so far away, yet towered over them, reminding him much like the skyscrapers of New York City back on Earth. And towering above that was the overwatch command center, whose tip looked like a massive flying saucer had landed ontop of it, a massive AA gun sitting ontop of it, turned away from the cruiser. The bridge that lead directly to the tower was long and drawn out, and along it were the telltale signs of destruction; bodies of lifeless geth, flames licking at the ground and destroyed vehicles. Overall, Torsk had performed beyond expectations.

_I knew krogan were powerhouses in their own right, but this is insane. And if this is what Torsk can do, I can only try to fathom what Grunt or even Wrex could do with this many men or more. Especially bolstered by rachni._

However, such destruction didn't come without outliers. Directly ahead, several geth troopers, at least half a dozen of them, with three recon drones accompanying them, moved among the desolation, likely looking for any signs of life or simply on a patrol. Overall, they didn't look all that alerted, and their motions seemed more methodical than hurried and defensive. Two of the troopers, which were rocket troopers, casually scanned the surrounding area with their launchers, while the other four, which were shock troopers, moved infront of them, pulse rifles covering the area infront of them, while the recon drones kept on the look out for any incoming attacks.

Most of all, they were right in the open, ripe for picking off.

Turning to Garrus, who was on the opposite side of the bridge, he motioned with his hands for him to set up a sniper position. Once done with that, he ordered Liara, who was prone and right next to him, to prepare to send a singularity right into the center of their formation. With his orders issued, he fell into a prone position, lying just carefully enough to be able to aim under the belly of the destroyed tank they hid behind.

The geth continued to inch forward, unaware that they were in the sights of an enemy they weren't even aware was present.

Once they were close enough, he immediately signalled the attack. He watched as Liara leapt up from her cover, body already glistening in blue fire, teeth gritted in determination. The geth reacted immediately, all their weapons coming to bare on the asari, but despite all their newfound intellect, speed and accuracy, they were not nearly fast enough; the asari shot her palm forth, a glowing orb of energy shooting forth as it hurled towards the center of the enemy ranks. There was simply nothing the geth could do but stand there as the singularity formed inbetween them, creating an evergrowing mini-blackhole of energy that lifted them up into the air, holding them in its gravitational grip as it swung them about, refusing them salvation. The drones were little better off, and soon the entire squad was floating through the air, easy pickings for the squad.

Garrus did not hesitate, and it was like a turkey shoot from there. The expert marksman immediately fired, one round slamming into the optics of one of the trapped shock troopers, tearing through whatever barriers it had left and blowing its optics through the back of its head. He fired again, this time sending a heavy round right into a recon drone, leaving it nothing but scattered pieces of debris floating in the gravity well.

The rest of the squad stood up, and finished the geth off as well. By the time the singularity finally dissipated, all that was left was the mangled debris of the drones and the bullet-riddled bodies of the fallen geth. They all thudded into the ground with a crash, scattering across the steel deck. With all would-be hostiles eliminated, Marcus could only reload his weapon as he looked back up at the looming geth cruiser, as if to make sure it hadn't spotted them. From the looks of it, it hadn't, since it neither opened fire, nor did it reroute any dropships or fighters to attack them.

They silently waited for another minute, and once it had passed, Marcus commed Vass again, "Sergeant, what's the status on those guns?"

"Ours," Vass declared, "We couldn't gain control of all of them, so we just took control of those in the general vicinity of the cruiser; that was alot easier. We've got 4 automatic plasma cannons, 21 GARDIANs and 5 deadly looking surface-to-orbit missile batteries waiting for deployment. Shall we proceed?"

"Wait for my go," Marcus ordered, and silently waited. And, without disappointment, he listened as a familiar loud boom was heard across the sky, followed by a near persistent hum of a warship's high-powered impulse engines. Without even needing to look, Marcus immediately shouted the order, "Target and fire! Give it just enough to scare it off!"

Not a moment, the entire unit sat there as their bodies shook, the entirety of the area seeming to shake like a violent earthquake as the  _Marathon_ approached at high-speed. The ship itself was like a blur, not even coming into visual range before it opened up on the light cruiser, managing to unload a payload of javelin torpedoes into its bow before it could even register it was under attack; the beauty of the IES stealth. It could only sit there as two flashes of blue light slammed into its shields, the shields themselves flashing brightly as the blue orbs exploded in cobalt wonder, almost blinding the soldiers down below with its intensity. Not a second later, the  _Marathon_ shot past, engines causing the entire fortress to shake even more violently, their loud roar almost  _deafening._ As it moved past the cruiser, its port GARDIANs immediately spitting rockets as the two ships came into a broadside for the briefest of moments. Once again, the cruiser's powerful kinetic barriers flashed, indicating no penetration.

"This is Captain Carmine Del Toro of the  _Marathon._ Negative, I repeat, negative on penetration. Shields down by thirty percent, over. Coming around for our second run. Prepping another salvo."

As this was said, the AA gun ontop of the overwatch tower's roof rotated on its turret, spinning around as it tilted upwards to face the cruiser, which had barely budged. The cruiser itself still hadn't brought its weapons to bare, having none to target as the stealth system of the stealth frigate that had attacked made it invisible to its sensors. The AA gun, joined by many others around them, took a few more seconds before they finally fired, bright pulses of light erupting all around them, all aimed at the colossal warship.

It was like watching fireworks; the ship's kinetic barriers lit up from every direction, plasma almost immediately bypassing its shields to penetrate its hull, with numerous explosions resulting from the impacts. Missiles struck harmlessly on its barriers, and ordinary machine gun fire, even those of the Phalanx-like geth autoturrets, did not penetrate, but were beginning to whittle it down. The plasma cannons left their mark though, doing enough damage to actually cause fires to erupt within, which leaked out of the gutted areas, trailing smoke along its form. Confused, its defenses moved to engage these turrets, but then the  _Marathon_ struck once more, javelin torpedoes this time impacting along its dorsal structure, whittling down its shields even more. The frigate shot past a split-second later, its roar inescapable as the squad just gritted their teeth as it died down.

They watched for a few more moments before listening as the cruiser's engines lit up briefly, lighting up with life. Eventually, they began their persistent roar, the unit watching with victorious relief as the cruiser began to reverse, the AA guns following its retreat relentlessly, peltering the stricken craft with flak, with Vass having silenced the plasma batteries to ensure the ship wasn't actually destroyed until it was far away from the security tower. Missiles and lances of machine gun fire trailed its retreat, with the  _Marathon_ darting forth to issue its third salvo of javelin missiles. It wouldn't be long until the ship's shields failed, and it began to take fire personally.

_And by then, it'll be far from the security tower. Which means Vass and Del Toro can reduce it to molten slag if they so want._

"Okay, the cruiser is retreating!" Marcus declared, once the cruiser's shadow had cleared sufficiently from the bridge they were residing on, "Everybody, get to the security tower! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"

The entire unit quickly ran from their cover, Desolas' company and his own squad rushing from their cover to sprint across the bridge, their bodies exerting as much energy as possible to put into their charge, rushing to make sure they reach their target. Once he was sure his unit was clear, he rushed forward himself, breaking into a sprint of his-

_**Shepard.** _

He physically hiccuped, his body tripping over itself as his vision suddenly became filled with a dull darkness, seeping in from the corners of his vision as he grasped his head in pain, the sheer power of the force grasping his mind being too  _immense._ It was all he could do to stop himself from screaming in pain, simply content to instead groan at the unwanted entry, dropping his pulse rifle as he tried to force it out.

_**You are close. We know you feel our presence. We cannot allow this perpetration to continue. You must discontinue this narrative of your supposed victory. You cannot win. Surrender to us.** _

He continued to thrash around, physically and mentally, slamming his fists into the ground as he willed the force to leave.

_**Your constant resistance is becoming asinine. The truth is not as subjective as your foolish organic ignorance would perputuate; simply surrender and you will know the truth. Our Truth. We will tell you. Have you not wondered why these cycles exist?** _

No. It was trying to weaken his resolve. It was trying to make him give in. Surrender and you shall have the answers? No.  _No. I will not. I don't care what your reasons are. I will stop you!_

_**We are each a nation. Independent of all weakness. We are the indefinite union of flesh and steel. But we are not mindless. We are not without methodicism. We are the Altruists. We cleanse organics so that you maybe free of your restricted bodies and feeble minds. We cleanse you because your destruction is your salvation. We are not your enemy. You are.** _

_You think I care? The only reason you're telling me this is_ _**because** _ _I'm close! You're trying to stop me! To distract me! So you can just go fuck yourself! I'm going to destroy the signal and save the geth! THEY ARE NOT YOUR SLAVES!_

_**You will not succeed. We are sure of this. We do not feel fear as it is a thematic part of emotional reasoning that we do not require. Because of this, we have no reason to lie. We are Truth. That is all we have been. Your destruction is merely the solution to your organic contempt.** _

_Free me or release me, Oblivion. But you know what? I'm going to destroy your signal, and then I might even look for you and destroy you. I left Vanguard with Kalros on Tuchanka. How about that? Want to have a chat with the Mother of all Thresher Maws?_

_**If you will not see reason, then perhaps you will once you have been subdued. Continue your crusade all you like. It can only end in the death of all those you pretend to protect. You are all the same; you all resist, and you all perish. The Protheans resisted, and perished. The Inusannon resisted, and they perished. All those before resisted, and like you will be, they were eradicated. You cannot stop billions of years of progress. Those who try will not persist much longer.** _

_We're different. We're going to win, we're going to stop you._

_**Very well. If you will not see reason, then you must be shown the consequences of your selfishness. You will be punished accordingly.** _

_Bring it, you piece of shit. I'll deal with you like I've dealt with the rest._

And just like that, the pain faded, and Marcus had to shake his head to free himself of the queasiness. Ignoring the dull ache in his head, he quickly picked up his pulse rifle, ignoring the cries of Tali to hurry up as he sprinted forward, running to catch up. The rest of the unit, seeing him now approaching, continued on, pushing on towards their target. His head still hurt, but Oblivion's words lingered on in his head, repeating over and over.

_The presence was stronger that time. Almost like it was...closer._ _**Much** _ _closer._

_No, no theories. It could simply be the signal affecting me or the Reapers' influence is stronger than I first thought. Either way, it could be nothing._

Whatever the answer was, he didn't hang around to fixate on it, and continued to move forward, relentlessly pushing his legs to their breaking point. He could not stop, not even for a second.

Halfway to the security tower, Vass' voice was in his ear, "The cruiser's been lured away a sufficient distance; want us to finish it off? Its shields have recharged, but its almost finished. The  _Marathon_ is also breaking off to rejoin the fleet above."

"Copy that," he replied inbetween heavy intakes of breath, "Take it down. The sooner its out of the picture the better." Just as he said that, he had to cringe and will himself to keep running as the sound of three fighters flying past could be heard. Luckily, they hadn't been spotted; or so he thought, as the vehicles had simply flown past them without moving to engage.  _Best not to tempt fate. Keep moving, Marcus. Keep it moving._

It wasn't long before they arrived directly at the entrance of the security tower...or what was left of it, at least. Keeling and half of the blackwatch company were already covering the left side of the entrance, while Desolas and the rest covered the right. The rest of the squad was scattered across the area, with Tali working the lock of the damaged building. Marcus however was more focused on the destruction scattered across the side of the building. Almost literally half the tower was gone, having collapsed ontop of the many buildings beside it, crushing them in heavy debris. Some of the flames had died, with many having died down to little fires scattered across the debris that was spread out across the area. Smoke trailed from the ruins, and geth could be seen under the debris or crushed by it. Geth torsos crawled across the ground, with some of the blackwatch troopers going amongst them and putting them down. The torn torso of a geth juggernaut even hung from a piece of rubar, which must have sliced the geth in half when it was tossed away by the blast. Overall, the security tower looked almost entirely destroyed, which didn't help his optimism about getting to the top of it.

All around them, the AA guns opened up again, firing at the geth light cruiser, which was now finally answering with fire of its own, resolved to destroy its own base's defenses to save itself. It was either that or risk orbit, but it couldn't with assailants attacking their base, so it held its ground...even if it was futile.

Moving towards Tali, he stood next to her, rifle lowered. The haptic interface was fizzing in and out, the lock clearly damaged by the explosion. The quarian looked up at him even as she worked, shaking her head. Eventually, she gave up, slamming her fist against it before standing up to face him, "I'm sorry Marcus, but the explosion must have severely damaged the door mechanisms. It looks like some of the circuits are fried."

"No problem. We don't need to hack our way through everything," he quickly turned to the heavy of the squad, "James, get some charges on this door. If we can't hack it, we'll have to blow it. Everybody, stand back. Prepare for breaching. Not that anything could survive that blast."

James wasted no time in moving towards the door, quickly grabbing the C6 charges from his back as he moved to attach them to the door, Tali moving back with everyone else as they moved to clear the intended blast radius. Suddenly, a burst of comm chatter met his ear, followed by the familiar sound of Legion's voice, "Shepard-Commander, we apologize for lack of communication. Our position was compromised by geth forces after the destruction of the security tower. We were forced to relocate. We are currently heading towards your position. We will take the battlements. What is your situation?"

"Its good to hear your voice, Legion," he replied quickly, turning to watch as James fastened the last charge, "We've reached the tower and are about to enter. We've lured the cruiser away, but the 39th and 45th are under heavy attack. Moses and Yul are on their way, as is Torsk. We'll wait for them and you."

"Negative, Shepard-Commander," Moses immediately interrupted, "We are currently pinned by Indoctrinated forces and are unable to join you. You will need to proceed without us."

Frowning, he turned back to his squad to see James give the thumbs up, the charges now set, "Can we render assistance?"

"Negative. Indoctrinated platforms number in the hundreds and are growing. Creator Yul has been killed and there are only three creator soldiers left. We are currently covering their retreat, and will soon be joining them. We will find another way to reach the overwatch tower, but not in time to be of use to you."

_Yul's dead? Shit!_

"We'll wait here for you," Marcus stated, "Surely we can-"

"You cannot afford to wait, Shepard-Commander," the geth prime insisted, "Before they overran our position, we detected Indoctrinated forces relaying commands to send more troops towards the security tower. We do not know how, but it would seem the Indoctrinated are now alerted to your presence. They are sending a regiment of troops towards your position, and are currently calling for an airstrike on your position. We are sorry, Shepard-Commander. There is nothing we can do."

_A regiment...we'll never be able to hold them off...and a bloody airstrike? Shit, shit, shit!_

_Well, I guess I knew something was going to go wrong..._

Vass was quick to join them, "The geth is right, captain! I'm detecting at least 1,800 troops heading towards your position from the east. They're approaching en masse, and don't seem to be moving with any particular order. They look desperate, captain.  _Really_ desperate. As in 'let's just rush them instead of moving in an organized fashion' desperate. I guess that confirms where the signal is. Me and my men will try our best to scramble the fighter's targetting, but they seem to be operating on a seperate network; I'd need to be on the cruiser to hack them, and that'll take too long!"

"Fuck!" he cursed, shaking his head, "Then reposition some of the AA guns! Take out those fucking fighters! Buy us some time!" he switched back to Moses, "Moses, don't bother with the overwatch tower. Take whatever troops you have left, including the skylord platoon, and withdraw to the northern side and reinforce the 39th and 45th. I'll have Torsk link up with you. There's no way they'll be able to reach us anyway."

"Acknowledged," the geth replied, almost sounding sad, "We have failed you."

"The only way you'll have failed me Moses is if you fucking die," he spat back, "Now get out of here! We'll do what we can here and just have to hope we can outrun the fuckers! Good luck!"

Once he had relayed the orders to Torsk, who was, despite being disgruntled, easy enough to convince to retreat, he returned to Vass, "What's the status on those fighters, Sergeant?"

"You should hear about it...right about...," the sound of explosions, fairly close, could be heard, and they all turned in time to watch four respective balls of flame seemingly shoot down from the sky like asteroids, flaming wreckage raining down on the fortress. One crashed into the ruins of the security tower, another crashed directly into the building across from them, exploding inside and gutting the structure, while the other two crashed somewhere behind it, "...now. Don't be too happy though. No doubt the geth will just reroute more fighters, but it'll take a few minutes for them to arrive. They're sorta preoccupied."

"With what?"

"Bombing our friends up north."

"Fuck."  _This just gets worse and worse. But we've got to focus on us right now. We're no help to them if we die. Make it worth something. Complete the_ _ **mission**_ _._

Turning to Tali, he nodded.  _I cannot fail her. Not her. Of all people, I cannot fail_ _ **her**_ _._

"Shepard-Commander, we will not be happy to provide assistance. There are too many of them," Legion declared.

"Don't worry Legion, just keep heading for overwatch. We'll meet you there. Hopefully, we'll be able to outrun them," he replied, almost too calmly.  _More calm than I feel. We're about to be fucking overrun._

"We calculate the chance of this to be ten percent," the geth stated, "At the rate Indoctrinated forces are advancing, they will reach you within sixty seconds. You will not have sufficient time to escape."

" _FUCK!_ " he roared, his anger fuelling him to kick a random piece of debris, sending the tangled piece of metal flying through the air. Everyone flinched from the sudden outburst. He bit down hard on his lip, feeling the need to  _scream._

_We cannot fail! We can't! Not now! Not when we're so fucking close!_

_Oblivion must have alerted them! Is this the punishment it spoke of? Fucking...FUCK!_

And then, an unwanted solution provided itself. Marcus, ignoring his blind rage, turned to see Desolas standing beside him, mandibles twitching ever so slightly, steely gaze meeting his own, furious one. The turian could see the fire in them, and he did not flinch. He stared back, and shook his head, "Captain, I believe this is where we must part ways. And, likely, it will be permanently."

He shook his head, "No, Desolas. I can't ask you to make that sacrifice. Its goddamn suicide. No, I've  _done_ suicide.  _That_ is  _impossible_."

"I did not imply that I wished to escape the ordeal," Desolas spoke back calmly, as if the very idea of death didn't even faze him, "I'm simply providing you a solution. You know this needs to be done, and you need to go. There is no room for argument. My men can bunker down here and hold them back long enough for you to escape. Go captain, and allow the esteemed men of this blackwatch to bathe in a glorious death," the turian raised his weapon high with one hand, "For Palaven! For the Hierarchy! Glory in death!"

 _"Glory in death!"_ the 8th Blackwatch Company roared back, all of them raising their rifles in a identical fashion.

Desolas lowered his phaeston, turning to the captain with a nod, "Now blow the door and go, captain. We'll use what time we have left to set up position. How much time do we have, Lieutenant?"

"15 seconds," one turian snapped, as if expecting the question. None of them showed fear or even seemed to cower at the idea of dying. They were hardened men, one and all.  _They truly are the best of the best._

All Marcus needed to do was look Desolas in the eyes one final time to know that the turian's mind was made up, and that was necessary was exactly that; necessary. He couldn't help but be reminded of Tarquin's death back on Tuchanka.  _Victory at any cost. This is the cost of today's victory. Make it worth every drop of blood._

With a nod, he turned to James, and gave his orders, "Detonate the door. Squad, be ready to move," turning one final time to Desolas, he gave a grim smirk, "Good luck, major."

"No such thing, captain," the turian snapped back, before turning to his men and ordering them into position. The turians filed out like pawns on a chessboard, and Marcus could only listen to the blast as the charges detonated, blowing the damaged door inwards, tearing it from its hinges. Inside was a mangled mess of a corridor, but it was traversable, and he could already see the elevator dead ahead. Without waiting any further, he ordered his squad through the doorway, rushing to get away before the geth arrived.

Marcus was the last one through, watching as two of the blackwatch commandos placed shaped charges on the edges of the doorway, clearly planning to collapse the surrounding infrastructure to block passage and further delay in the geth in the event that the company was overwhelmed; and they would be. Marcus, with some sadness, turned away and moved down the corridor, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

_A thousand geth platforms against a small company of a hundred turian commandos. A battle for the ages. Give 'em hell, Desolas._

The elevator lay at the end of the corridor; quite literally. Bits of wiring hung from the ceiling, with scorch marks marring the walls, some of the flooring having been ripped up entirely, with the occassional spark and flickering of damaged lights showing the extent of the damage. The wall to the left of the elevator was missing entirely, blown inwards, allowing them a free view of the ruins outside. Surprisingly, only one geth wasn't present, and it was only an assault drone; its shattered body lying sideways on the floor, a large hole blown through its side, optics dim and bereft of life.

Reaching the elevator, and hoping God was as loving as they said, the entire squad squeezed into the confined space, with Marcus moving in last. They all stood there as Tali hacked the interface to take them to the top floor, watching as gunfire began to erupt, accompanied by the heavier sounds of pulse rifle fire, rocket detonations and siege pulses. Just as abruptly as the combat began, their view of it was cut off as the doors slammed shut, the elevator thankfully beginning to carry them upwards at a slow, but steady, rate. Tali stood up, joining him, her hand sliding into his and squeezing it. But he barely felt it.

The 39th, 45th and 7th were likely being slaughtered out there. Dozens of quarian commandos were dead, with Yul among them. A blackwatch company was now giving their lives to ensure their victory. And it was all because of the quarians and their  _insepid_ need to reclaim their lost world and, perhaps the most pathetic of all, to enact revenge upon the geth for exiling them.

_Well, I hope you're happy Gerrel. I hope you're fucking happy. Shala. Xen. Koris. All of you. I hope you're all fucking proud of yourselves._

And like thoughts could summon people, his comm sprung to life and, surely enough, Shala'Raan was attempting to contact him. Frowning, he answered the comm, answering with an almost gravelly tone, "Yes, Admiral?"

**{Loading...}**

_July 21, 2186_

_1442 hours._

_Moving up the Security Tower, Rannoch Fortress, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, Soldier Javik, General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Major Madi'Reegar vas Normandy._

"Captain, it is good to hear you're still alive! How is the situation down there?"

He rolled his eyes; a response he couldn't help, given the situation he was in, "Going to hell faster than a bullet train. We're being hit on all fronts, but we're moving up the security tower. The signal will be gone momentarily."

"That is excellent to hear! Soon the war will finally be over, and we can finish this charade once and for all! This foolishness can finally end!"

He had to hold back a snort at such an ironic comment.  _You're telling me._ Despite his irritation though, he had to know what the situation was with the Migrant Fleet, as they had been silent for the majority of the operation.  _I'm surprised they've kept the geth running around the system for that long. Surely they must have known something was up._

"What's the Flotilla's status?" he queried, already feeling exhausted.  _Guess standing still after running so much allows my body to finally realize 'well, fuck. You're tired.'_

"We are doing our seventh lap of Rannoch," Shala replied, "We haven't lost a single ship, but the geth are relentless. I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. Gerrel is getting restless and Koris is worried the geth might set up a trap. I would recommend haste, captain."

"Like I said," he said through gritted teeth, "We're almost at the top of the security tower. Once there, we'll cross to the overwatch command tower, open the silo and let the  _Normandy_ bombard the signal's transmitter. Once gone, this'll all be over and we can all go home."  _Well, those that are still living anyway._

"Very well, captain," Shala responded, "We will hold out for as long as we can and keep them chasing us. Admiral Raan out."

With that, he closed the comms, turning to Tali, "How close are we to the top."

"Four stories," the quarian declared, "We're almost-"

And then the entire elevator shuddered. If it wasn't for the cramped space, they would have all fallen over from the quake. Despite that however, they were far more concerned with the immense explosion and the pressure it put on the security tower's structure; it was hard to mistake the creaking of steel and the groan of unstable support beams and stumps. The elevator continued despite this however, even when the entire building shook again, likely from the resulting shockwave of the blast. The groan was louder this time, which warned Marcus that they needed to get off this building  _fast._

Finally, they reached a section of the building's anterior where the walls had peeled off, allowing them a perfect view outside. The squad could only smile and watch in silent relief as the split remains of the geth light cruiser began to glide towards the southern battlements. The AA guns finished their final salvo, with the cruiser having been so utterly destroyed, that it had split down the middle, breaking its spine. Fire and debris flew from it in spiralling balls, with the front careening into a distant tower, slicing it in half in a shower of steel and concrete. The quake was barely felt this time, but the most enjoyment came when the back of it crashed into the southern wall, falling right through it almost like it was made of clay rather than thick concrete and steel. What was left was a large hole in the hole, accompanied by the settling wreckage of the cruiser's rear, now riddled with explosions and alight with fire. The very sight was almost angelic if it wasn't for the fact that it was their future allies they were destroying.

Overall, the entire geth fortress was now in almost complete shambles. Fires raged throughout its multi-complex, and smoke blackened the sky, almost blotting out Tikkun with its intensity. If the enormous destruction on the north wall wasn't enough, there was now the ruins of half the security tower and the light cruiser crashing into the base, leaving a gaping hole in the southern wall. Had this been any other organic base, there likely would have been alarms blaring and shouts echoing across. As it was, the geth didn't need alarms, and the shouts and gunfire were limited to below and at the northern wall, where the 39th, 7th and 45th were likely putting up a valiant, but likely futile, defense.

_There's just too many of them. They'll hold out for an hour or two at most, and then they'll be overwhelmed. Even with Vass' unit running sabotage, they'll be hard pressed to hold that position. But they know what to do. They're aware of what they need to do; what's at stake. No retreat. No room for withdrawal. This is one war that'll end today._

As soon as the cruiser came to a complete rest within the fortress, the elevator reached the top floor of the tower. The doors slowly opened this time, being nowhere near as fast as they had been when shutting down below, the sound of their opening a painful screech and grinding compared to every other door they'd passed through. Nevertheless, it finally opened, and the squad quickly filed out, quick to draw their weapons and check the corridor ahead. Not quite as devastated as the bottom floor, the corridor looked relatively untouched, with the only sign of any damage being a flickering light in the middle, and the doors of one room to their immediate left having been blown open, leaving their mark in the wall opposite them as they rested on it, sparking as live circuits continued to interact ever so slightly. The room itself looked annihilated, with all three walls missing, leaving it exposed to the open air, wind whipping at the wreckage inside.

A geth trooper was skewered on a loose piece of rubar on the right, the platform uselessly trying to walk forward, hands trying to free it of the metal it was impaled on. Seeing the squad, its optics turned to them, and it stopped, simply staring at them as if it had no idea what to do. In actual fact however, what they perceived as it looking at them blankly was the unit actually purging its memory core, and within seconds its optics tilted downwards, their light dying as the trooper fell limp. Two geth hoppers could be seen near the end, one dead while the other crawled across the ground towards them, one leg missing, with only a pair of loose wires hanging from the removed limb. Its optics looked to burn with intent, but Marcus ignored it, moving forward even as Kasumi put a SMG burst straight through its optics, killing it instantly.

The team pressed forward towards the doorway at the end, 'euthanizing' any geth they came across. Most of them were not even combat capable; either being dismembered in one fashion or another, unable to move due to being trapped or impaled, or simply didn't possess any weapons to defend themselves. Overall, what little geth were left inside the tower were woefully under equipped to combat Marcus' team, and they put them down, one by one, as they came through.

The sounds of their footsteps and the ocassional boom of one of their weapons discharging was not the only sound to be heard. The squad stopped for a moment as they heard the telltale sound of a large explosion down below, the building's superstructure groaning in protest. It was clear now that the blackwatch company had been entirely overrun, and had blown the entrance to slow the geth advance even further. They just hoped their sacrifice was worth it. The sounds of gunfire did not cease however, and explosions and the reports of weapons to the north signalled that the battle continued to rage elsewhere as well. Still, they pressed on, knowing beyond a doubt that the men and women of the UGC task force would do their jobs.

They rounded a few more corners until they finally came across the door that leads to the skybridge connecting the two towers. The corridor they were in was relatively untouched by the damage to the tower, looking almost spotless, yet empty of any life other than their own. No lights flickered, and even the door itself looked fully functioning. Numerous consoles aligned the wall, and a set of four doors lined the right wall, all locked and dormant. Data streamed on the consoles, although Marcus couldn't make out what it was saying due to the rapidity of the streaming. Because of this, he largely ignored it, not thinking much of it as he quickly motioned for Tali to unlock the door they needed to access.

"We're not going to have much time," Madi pointed out, already falling into a crouch as she assumed a rear defensive position, rifle aimed as she sighted downrange, "If Desolas and his men are overrun now, that'll mean the geth will be making every effort to get up here and stop us. No doubt they'll be sending every drone they have and rerouting all their fighters and dropships. If they manage to trap us in..."

"We've already got a head start on them, and Desolas bought us more than enough time to split," Kaidan pointed out, "And the geth won't risk sending in an airstrike anywhere near the signal source; the Reapers wouldn't want their control thwarted by collateral damage. They're desperate, but not stupid. They'll just send as many troops as they can to stop us, and by then, it'll be too late."

"Kaidan's right," Kal added, squeezing his mate's shoulder, "We'll make it. Just think about the future,  _yol'tiya_. Think about what comes from this; the homeworld will be ours again. Keelah Re'lai."

"Keelah Re'lai," Tali and Madi said almost simultaneously and with complete conviction. Marcus turned to see the quarian admiral still crouched before and hacking the door, her fingers quickly and rapidly killing off every geth safeguard she can find, all with the help of Vass and his engineers on the other side.

_Speaking of Vass and his men..._

He quickly hit the comms, contacting the STG company, "Sergeant, this is Marcus. We're about to cross to the overwatch command tower now; we're inbound. What's your status?"

Vass' response sounded more hurried than usual, and stressed, "About to make a hasty retreat, captain. The geth finally managed to find us; I don't know how, but it means we can't stay here any longer. Don't worry though; my men are sabotaging as much as they can: we're frying the AA gun targetting, frying every major alert system, and we're doing a little redecorating in their interior network; suffice to say, their programs in-system are going to be so busy repairing any internal damage that they'll be unable to hinder your progress. Also, as an added bonus, I've just activated a killswitch on every single door in the base. Which should mean..."

Three seconds later, the door Tali was hacking shot open without warning, with the haptic interface disappearing a moment later to reveal the bridge ahead. The four doors on the right wall also shot open, revealing their respective rooms, and just how empty they were. Looking ahead, they could see the door on the opposite side of the bridge also open, revealing a squad of geth troopers and shock troopers that had been setting up an ambush, but had been revealed. Able to see the squad immediately, they opened fire, a flurry of pulse rifle fire forcing Tali and the rest of his team into cover as it shot through the doorway, impacting the opposite wall and riddling it with rapidly multiplying bullet holes, the material hissing from the heat of the impacts. There was even the ocassional bolts of plasma, which melted and warped the steel impacted, revealing the presence of at least one geth hunter.

He growled, falling into a crouch as he returned fire, "Thanks for that, Vass. Although no doubt that's made the geth's job easier as well."

"Didn't say it wasn't without its bad parts," Vass almost dismissively replied, "That's about all we can do for you, captain; you're on your own now. We're going to leave and try and link up with Durand and Bergundus in the north; with luck, we can do more to help them then we have been able to help you."

Gritting his teeth, he waited a few moments, letting off a trio of bursts into the first trooper he could see through the doorway, holding back a sigh of relief as he watched it go down, collapsing backwards into one of its comrades, who almost frustratingly tossed the body aside as it tried to take aim again, only for Marcus to roll out of sight, slamming a fresh thermal clip into his weapon, "You've been invaluable, Vass. Now just get the hell out of there."

"Copy that, captain," Vass replied. With that, the comms fell silent, signalling that the salarian team had now gone back into radio silence to cover their retreat.

_Now we're truly on our own._

Marcus groaned as he sat up against the wall, beginning to shout out orders, "Madi, Kal, stay where you are and make sure no one comes up behind us. James, I didn't want to do it, but we have no choice. Deploy the Cain, and open up on that doorway. We don't have the time to deal with this conventionally. Just take aim and let it rip. Everyone else, be ready to advance the moment you hear that explosion. If you see anything stir, gun it down without remorse. I don't care if it only turns out to be a rat; just kill it. I want no surprises and no slowing down; this is it, people. Our goal is just across that bridge. All it takes is one final approach. Do not fail  _me_ , but most of all, do not fail  _them._ "

The entire team nodded, and remained in cover as they got ready to make the necessary charge, keeping their weapons locked and loaded in preparation. James, from his position next to Javik, who looked angry as he brimmed with the deminishing green light of his biotics, had the Cain on the ground, by the stock, bringing the first of the three rounds he had for the weapon up to the barrel, ready to shove it inside. With a grunt, he managed to lock it into place, grabbing a side lever and drawing it down, bringing the missile into place. Taking a breath, the marine then looked up at Marcus, waiting for his confirmation as he picked up the enormous death machine, already bringing the stock against his shoulder.

Marcus just nodded, not even hesitating.

"Okay amigos, here comes the big kaboom," the marine declared enthusiastically, "Javik, Keeling, Garrus, covering fire! Give me time to line up the shot!"

The trio wasted no time dropping into place, Javik in a crouch with Keeling beside him as he opened fire with his particle rifle, a great lance of lime light pulsing from the barrel to slam into the stomach of a geth hunter, unable to bring its cloak back up in time as the pulse struck it, slicing right through its chest and out its back, its electronic warble all the sound it could make before Javik streaked the shot upwards, slicing up through its chest and amputating its arm from its shoulder, causing it to drop its plasma shotgun. Keeling finished it off with a straight headshot, and Garrus sent a concussive shot flying overhead to hit another hunter, sending it realing back, and destroying what little shields it had left, allowing Keeling and Javik to put it down.

While this was going on, and geth fell one by one to the trio's onslaught, despite their shields faltering at the equally intense gunfire, James lined up his shot. For four seconds, the four of them stood in the open as fire pelted them. Javik grunted as a stray round penetrated his shields and sliced into his side, but he did not falter, keeping up his fire. Keeling almost cried out when a bolt of plasma from a third hunter's shotgun just grazed her side, the plasma's heat enough to melt through her armor and singe her side, leaving her with a small, isolated area with third-degree burns. The pain was likely intense, but she continued regardless, until James finally took the shot.

The intensity of the recoil was enough to cause James to cry out in pain, the stock slamming back into his shoulder with tremendous force, and causing him to stagger back slightly and drop the weapon; but his aim was dead on. Marcus rolled forward, quickly retrieving the weapon and putting it on his back, watching the rocket as it raced towards the doorway ahead. The geth saw it coming, and turned to withdraw, but they were too late, and the rocket impacted.

Marcus tinted his helmet, as did everyone else, as an intense flash almost blinded them. The flash permeated their vision for the good portion of five seconds, the only sound being a titanic clamour as heat unlike anything they had felt before struck them full on, followed by bits of debris and metal. Electronic cries were drowned out by the side, as was any other sound around them. Finally, when the sound cleared and their vision returned to a basic blur, they were able to see the full extent of the Cain's wrath.

While James gathered himself and gradually began to ignore his bruised shoulder, the squad surveyed the destruction as they got up and moved forward, weapons at the ready. The Cain had done its job; what had been a fairly small doorway enough for four people in body armor to squeeze through had been turned into a massive hole of twisted metal, exposed circuits and wiring, and a singed, blackened circumference. Now, the hole was 12 meters tall, and 16 meters in width. The bridge was relatively untouched, but the area closest to the explosion was now pitch black, and steam hissed from the metal as heat irradiated within it.

He came to a stop, immediately turning to Liara, "Form a biotic barrier around us. We don't want to get exposed to any radiation." The Cain wasn't a simple high-powered rocket launcher; when people called it a mini-nuke launcher, they weren't lying. With an explosive force of 1000 microtons of TNT, the Cain was capable of levelling an entire house. Of course, that didn't seem like it would do much more than a bunker buster, but as a nuke, it had far more destructive force, and could leave an area irradiated, making uninhabitable for a temporary period of time. Add to the fact that nuclear detonations could cause blindless if witnessed with unshielded eyes, third degree burns to those close enough, total incineration to those who are far too close, and cause cancerous amalgamations and diseases in any organic survivors, the Cain was a weapon that just toed the line of the Geneva and Citadel Conventions. If the weapon was any more destructive, it might have been illegal.

And with people like Kasumi, Garrus, Liara and Javik all wearing open armor, they were in danger of suffering radiation poisoning. Javik he wasn't too sure of due to little to no information on prothean physiology, but he wasn't willing to take the risk. With that said, he watched as a dome of liquid blue erupted around them, shielding them from the fallout of the Cain's payload. Slowly moving forward, they crossed the bridge, rifles raised, ready to deal with any incoming attacks.

None came, as they crossed the bridge onto the command tower roof, they found that the geth squad were no more, with not even piles of metal to recognize them by; they had been totally incinerated. Any corpses were reduced to black markings on the ground, and the radiation count on Marcus' HUD began to crackle and hiss in response to the radiation outside their biotic bubble. With a nod, he ordered his team across, and into the overwatch command tower.

Again, no geth rushed to meet them, which made Marcus wonder if that single squad had been all the geth could muster in this situation. With time running out, he couldn't waste time trying to find out. Moving until his squad was free of the radiation, he quickly turned to his squad, watching as Liara dropped her barrier, and brought out her SMG, "Kal, Madi, EDI, James, Liara; cover the bridge. Reposition the area however you need, but I have a feeling those geth down below are going to be all over us very soon; I don't want our asses hanging out when they do. Everyone else, you're with me. Keep me covered while I open the hatch of the silo and call in the airstrike. Let's move, people. Double time it."

The squad did not hesitate; they knew the stakes. This was it. This is what they'd been fighting for. An end to one of the longest conflicts in galactic history, and one of the longest exiles.

_Press._

_Forward._

_Advance._

_**You cannot win, Shepard. Surrender. Now.** _

_I thought you were done trying to convince me? Where's your punishment, Oblivion? Why don't you just tell Harbinger I've ended your little charade here on Rannoch. The geth will never be your slaves again._

_**Trust in one's confidence is the main delusion of organic life. You cannot resist the cycle. It has progressed for billions of years. You can only delay the inevitable.** _

_Your trust in this inevitability is_ _**your** _ _main delusion. Nothing is inevitable. We make our own fate. We choose the path. It just so happens that I'm not going to choose the path of least resistance; I'm going to keep fighting you until every Reaper is dead. Do not make the mistake in thinking I will surrender; I won't. Your race is already dead._

_**If you think saving one race means something, you are hopelessly deluded. And if you believe their salvation is at hand, you are only aiding the conclusion of your delusion. They will remain ours because you have no means of destroying our source.** _

_I have an airstrike._

_**It matters little.** _

_Try and stop me._

_**We do not need to try. The fate of this battle has already been decided. This exchange is OVER.** _

_Damn right._

With the Reaper's voice having now left the confines of his mind, he pressed on; Kaidan, Tali, Javik, Kasumi, Keeling and Garrus ran beside him, weapons raised as they managed to keep all sides in check. The light of the sky became more and more prominent until they reached the very edge of the building. Ahead of them now was an observation platform stretched out like the plank of a pirate ship, its edges railed off as it loomed over the silo down below. Two consoles lay to either side of it, with one at the very end of the platform; obviously this was the main control console for the silo's systems. Rifle raised, he approached the platform, his team not far behind him and covering his back and closed in with the console.

And just like that, there they were; the console just infront of him, the source of the geth's enslavement down below.

He lowered his rifle, and looked down. Overall, looking at it put things into perspective; for one, they were not as high up as he thought, with the silo only seeming to be one hundred meters below. The silo itself was immense, its width equal to the length of a turian battlecruiser. Large though it was, it was what lay beneath that Marcus was after, and without hesitation, he commed the  _Normandy_ , contacting Joker, " _Normandy_ , this is ground team. We have reached the control station, I repeat, we have reached the control station," he looked off into the distance, watching as a geth dropship was shot down, with flak peppering the sky and machine gun fire rocketing through the sky and muzzle flashes lighting up the best part of the northern side of the base, "Awaiting airstrike. Danger close, I repeat, danger close. Recommend immediate bombardment the moment I give the signal, how copy?"

"Gotcha, captain," Joker replied, "Deploying into orbit now. Will be with you in five. Prepping torpedoes."

With a barely perceivable nod, he turned to Tali and ordered her to hack the console and hopefully open the silo's protective hatch; all the while the threat of the incoming geth troops behind them loomed every closer. He couldn't help but turn back to ensure his squad was still okay and, to his relief, saw that Liara, Kal, Madi, James and EDI were all in position, eying the doorway as they readied themselves to open fire on any geth soldiers that dared to try and cross the bridge. A perfect choke point, and excellent defensive position.

Three minutes later, and he turned, Tali standing up as finished the hack. With a loud groan of steel and concrete grinding against each other, and the loud clicks of clasps unlatching, they all watched in a mixture of awe and wonder as the hatch slowly slid underground, lethagarically drawing itself back as if unveiling a big finale. And what a finale it was; even as the hatch drew back, darkness still hung onto the silo's interior, with Tikkun's light only just barely reflecting on whatever was in there. Whatever it was, it was big; even from where they were, they could see the signal transmitter; and it was huge. Even for a transmitter, it was unusually large, wide and long, and it glimmered with a crimson tang, looking almost like...

_...wait. Something isn't right. That design...looks_ _**hauntingly** _ _familiar..._

And as the hatch slid more and more away, more of the transmitter was revealed, until it was almost too late. Just before the hatch disappeared altogether, the pieces of the puzzle came together. It should have been obvious from the get go.

_The taunts. The feeling of Oblivion being closer than it perceivably was. The strength of the signal. Oblivion's desperate attempts to stop me..._

_The signal isn't being broadcasted by a Reaper deployed signal..._

_...the signal is coming_ _**from** _ _a Reaper!_

His eyes widened as he watched the arched back and triangular body of a Reaper Destroyer begin to stir in the silo, his squad already moving even as its infamous and terrifying airhorn pierced the air, shaking the very foundations of the building and seeming to infect the air with its horror; the very sound sent goosebumps pricking across his skin, and he was already shouting into his comms, "All units! The signal isn't a transmitter, its an actual Reaper! Full retreat, I repeat,  _full fucking retreat! Normandy,_ switch to the thanix and prepare to-"

Without warning, the Reaper suddenly lurched upwards, one of its four legs darting upwards to grab onto something as it prepared to pull itself out of its self-induced prison. The leg, with its three sub-limbs, quickly grabbed a hold of the command tower's exterior, digging into the metal as it squeezed and crushed it under its grip, causing the entire tower to creak with the pressure. Its second leg lashed out and did the same to the other side, causing his entire squad to fall to the ground, Marcus falling forwards, causing his pulse rifle to slide from his hands and off the edge, plummeting to the ground below as he watched on helplessly. The entire continued to shake, even as they all got to their feet.

He could hear Joker shouting through the comms, but his voice was drowned out as the Reaper's airhorn bellowed once more, its forward legs now pulling it out from the silo, allowing them to see its full form. Its back legs quickly grabbed a hold of the area behind it, pulling it fully out of the silo and into the light, where the light of Tikkun reflected off its thick armor plating and dull red cyclops. The eye turned to look up at them, but Marcus knew, even as his eyes furrowed into a frown of anger, it was looking directly at  _him._

_Oblivion..._

With the plates covering its eye already open, its one, sole eye was able to look freely, and it quickly locked onto the helpless team as it stood up fully, allowing them to view its supreme size and power. Almost as tall as the command tower itself, the Reaper was now able to almost look down on them. Why it didn't fire then and there, Marcus didn't understand, but he didn't get time to contemplate on it; within seconds, one of Oblivion's legs went swiping upwards, the force of it knocking the air out of their lungs and sending the platform they were on flying upwards.

With a creak and finally a loud  _snap_ , the entire platform was shaken loose from its moorings, and they all widened their eyes as it fell back, this time slamming into the tower's surface as it began to slide down...

...towards the ground below.

They all held on for dear life, wind whipping at their helmets and faces as they plummetted towards the ground below, which grew ever closer as they approached it. They did not fail to notice what appeared to be four geth hunters and a dozen geth troopers waiting down below, but that seemed like the least of their problems at that very moment; towering above them as they fell was the gargantuan form of a 150 meter Reaper, and they were more concerned about that then the puny geth below; that, and surviving their fall would be nice.

_**We warned you, Shepard. You did not listen. The cycle cannot be broken. You must realize this or this cycle will be lost just like all the others.** _

_I can still save the geth..._

_**WE are the signal. To destroy the signal, you must destroy us. You are doomed. You are all doomed. We are Oblivion, and you will be condemned to a brutal grave for your misfortunes. You cannot escape your doom.** _

Before Marcus could even respond to that, he found his descent suddenly halted, his body feeling weightless as it was suddenly yanked upwards forcefully. Barely able to open his eyes due to the air slamming into them, he looked up to see Garrus holding onto the loose platform, the jetpack on his back firing at full as he desperately tried to slow their fall. They were slowing down for the most part, but it looked as if the landing was still going to be a hard one.

_Shit...this is going to hurt..._

And it did.

Garrus did all he could to slow their descent and for the most part, he succeeded; had he not used his jetpack to slow them down at all, they would have hit the ground at full force, resulting in smashed bones and broken bodies. Now, instead of hitting the ground at full speed, they would hit at a reduced speed, which would still undoubtably hurt like a bitch, but it was survivable. The turian cried out with the effort to stabilize the plummeting platform, but in the end, it wasn't enough to save them completely from harm, and in moments, they impacted the ground with a loud  _crash_.

Felt like his entire body had been reduced to jelly. His vision became a blur as he felt himself violently thrashed about, chest slamming into the ground. Pain lanced up his stomach, the spectre coughing and spluttering as he bit back a scream. His body almost ricocheted off the ground from the crash, armor tightening against his frame as he was thrown around. His entire body managed to flip in the air for a brief moment before landing on his back with a thud, continuing to slide across the steel ground for a few seconds before coming to a stop.

Eyes looking up, all he could do was fight the black invading his vision as he desperately breathed in all the air that had been forced from his lungs. He felt as if he was trapped, his entire body aching and flashing with agony, unable to move even a limb. He licked his lips, feeling spots of blood there from a broken nose, with more blood seeping down his nostrils towards his mouth, which he promptly spat back out. Reaching up, he almost tore his helmet off, the mere movement of his arms enough to cause him to let out a loud, drawn-out growl. Reaching up, he grabbed his nose and reset it, biting down on his lip to escape the agony of the gesture. With his nose reset, he tried tilting his head up, but found it nearly impossible. Looking up, he watched Oblivion's massive form linger over them, his forward left leg smashing down 50 meters behind him, like it was bringing its form around so it could see for itself if his squad was dead. And then, seeing that they weren't, it would likely use its thanix to finish them off.

_Got...to get...up...can't...end...here..._

_How the fuck are we meant to take that thing down? Rannoch doesn't have its own Kalros! We're fucked! We don't have the ground ordnance to bring that monstrosity down!_

Ripping his eyes from the towering monolith, he twisted his head to see if his squad was okay. The first thing he saw was a long trail of blue blood, which seemed to leak across the ground in a mini-river across the ground before finally arriving at Garrus, who lay on the ground, already trying to push himself up. In the tumble, the turian's sniper rifle had become dislodged from his back, ending up five meters away from him. His rifle was nowhere to be seen, and from the looks of it, he did not survive the fall without a scratch; even from where Marcus was lying, he could see the blue blood steadily dripping from one side of his friend's face, Garrus holding up one talon to tenderly touch his face, visually wincing at the sting it likely caused. The turian then turned to Marcus, revealing that his left mandible was hanging limply to one side, one of the strings of flesh holding it up having been torn off, the injury leaking blood like a tap. He nodded to Marcus, noting that he was alive, and quickly grabbed one of his medi-gel packets as he applied it to his wound.

Turning further, he saw Kasumi not far from Garrus, her hood down and hair splayed across her face as she tucked it aside, sitting up, groaning. From where he was, he could see that an array of cuts lined her features, one just missing her eye, but all leaking red; not a steady tap like Garrus however, and they looked relatively minor compared to everyone else. Otherwise, the master thief looked fine, and she quickly stood up, grabbing her SMG.

All around them, his squad moved to get up, but he couldn't see Tali anywhere.  _She must be behind me._

He was proven right when his wife suddenly appeared from behind him, crouching by his side. Gunfire was heard, Marcus realizing that his squad must have started to engage the geth he saw on his way down. In the state they were all in, they wouldn't last long if significant geth reinforcements started coming their way, so he began to sat up; a gesture he rapidly regretted, as it drew his attention to the broken ribs he likely now sported.

"What's the damage?" Tali asked him, surprisingly calm, "Are you seriously injured? Can you walk?"

"Walk? No," he groaned, he shook his head, "Limp? Yes. I've got a broken nose and a few broken ribs, but from what I feel, my legs are fine, and my arms ache, but are still working. Help me up. We need to get out of here... _now_."

"Agreed!" she replied, shouting for Javik to help her help the captain up. The prothean was by side their side in seconds, and with his help, tucked their arms under Marcus' and hoistened him up. Finally able to stand, albeit alittle wobbly, he was able to see that Keeling and Kaidan were holding off the geth troops on the ground, having downed three troopers, but unable to stem their advance entirely. The geth were gaining ground, and with the ground team injured in some form or another, they couldn't last much longer.

An incredibly loud airhorn above them only emphasized the danger they were in, and they all looked up to see Oblivion slowly bringing itself around, even walking backwards, so that it could see the ground team fully.

Loudly, and in his ear, Kal's voice spoke up, hurried and tired, "Marcus, are you alright!? We saw that fall from where we were! You need to get out of there!"

"We know! The signal is a fucking Reaper!" he barked back, turning around as he began to move the opposite way, motioning for his squad, although his limping didn't allow him to make much headway. Garrus, already seeing him begin to move, motioned to Kasumi to follow, who began to help him along with one arm tucked under his, Marcus realizing the turian had more than simply a broken mandible; his left leg barely being able to move was more than enough a sign to symbolize this, "You need to fall back! Get out of there!"

"Its not us we're worried about, Marcus!" came Liara's voice, suddenly cutting off Kal, "The geth were beginning to advance on us when your platform fell. Then, they just suddenly retreated, leaving only a few platoons to deal with us! They started retreating down the building! We think they're headed for your position!"

 _It was never about us trying to reach the silo controls..._ Marcus thought, the limping becoming more and more of a pain as he moved along, Tali moving steadily beside him. She wasn't without her injuries either; her shotgun was now holstered on her back, her free left arm cradling her now useless right one.

_Oblivion knew what we were doing the whole time. He only sent troops to stop us because..._

_...because he wants_ _**me** _ _._

_But_ _**why** _ _? Why are the Reapers_ _**obsessed** _ _with_ _**me** _ _?_

_Irrelevant. Geth forces are inbound and you're in danger. You need to get your squad out of here._

"Just get out of there! Try and link up with the 39th and 45th if you can!" he shouted, "Don't worry about us! We'll find our own way out! We'll try and find Legion and organize a way out!"

Liara didn't agree, "With that Reaper following you? No! Its too dangerous! No, we'll wait for you to-"

"I'm giving you a direct fucking order, Liara! Now move!" he snapped, "You need to contact Joker and find a way to safely take out Oblivion without too much collateral damage. Use the thanix if you have too. Just bring that monster down."

"But Marcus..."

This time, it was Tali who interrupted, "Just do it, Liara. We'll be fine."

Silence followed their pleas for a short time, before Kal was the one who spoke once more, "Understood, sir. You stay alive, you hear? I've got a drink to share with you once this is all done."

Marcus managed a smirk at that, "I'll even suffer a hangover if that's what's necessary, Kal. Now get moving. Don't wait on us."

With that the comms went silent, and Marcus turned to see his squad trailing behind. Kasumi helped Garrus limp with them, while Javik, Keeling and Kaidan provided covering fire for their retreat. Tali was ever at his side, the quarian unholstering her pistol to let off potshots at the enemy behind them, even unleashing Chiktika to aid them. But despite their fighting withdrawal, the geth were rapidly growing in number, flowing out into the yard with increasing strength; troopers turned into shock troopers with hoppers, and those were bolstered by destroyers, then juggernauts, even primes; even flights of drones filtered out to attack the squad, and before they knew it, they were fighting an ever growing regiment of troops filtering out to attack them.

 _We won't even make it to the exit._ Marcus could see it just before them; a massive, tunnel-like exit that likely ran through the base's structure to the east. If they could just reach it, they might escape Oblivion's gaze. But with the situation disintegrating quickly around them, that concept seemed ever fleeting.

Suddenly, Marcus heard a familiar sound; the whoosh of a Reaper firing its deployment capsules. Stopping and turning around, he watched in horror as Oblivion now turned to fully face them, and instead of annihilating them on the spot with its thanix, it elected to fire its capsules; bolts of red flame and crimson heat lashing upwards into the sky by the dozen, the Reaper deploying its personal payload of converted troops towards them.

_It seems hesitant to hurt us...but why?_

_Is it because...do the Reapers want me alive? For what purpose?_

Flashbacks of Illium filtered through his mind. Broken and alone, having fallen down a massive drop. Unable to fight back as husks hauled him up, dragging him towards a dragon's tooth, ready to fully convert him into a life of mechanical thralldom. He remembered it very clearly; how Harbinger had come  _so close_ to victory. To killing Marcus.

_Is that what the husks are for? Is Oblivion going to try and convert me into a husk? My entire squad?_

Whatever the answer was, they could only watch as the pods arched through the air, finally coming to stop as they slammed into the ground ahead of them, each impact accompanying a blast of flame and debris as the pods came apart, protecting their occupants but allowing them to immediately roam free. Marcus found himself holding up his arms to shield himself from the shrapnel, growling through it as he opened his eyes to see what awaited them.

With the deployment of dozens of pods came the convergence of dozens of husks. The familiar, chilling groans of standard husks, lifeless, cybernetic eyes almost looking like they were painted on a backdrop of black and grey skin, pipes filtering into their throat and cybernetics puncturing their skin on all angles, naked in all accounts of the word. He did not fail the notice the six marauders also present among them, gripping phaeston rifles in their hands as their forms played a mockery of the turian body, giving out a long winded electronic drabble as they sent commands to their makeshift force. And, to his shock and disgust, he saw two of the chimera; the seemingly normal abominations that used to be quarians, torn suits hanging off their thin, anorexic frames. Their hair was shorter than the one he encountered on Illium, and he realized that these ones were converted males. Cybernetics raked their form, perverting their body, with their helmets almost the only identifiable aspect of them; and even those were devastated, the mask shattered and helmet blackened by some unknown heat. Their eyes were just as lifeless as the rest, and the screech they let out only served to almost freeze him on the spot. Their hair glowed bright blue, and as they watched, they extended their impenetrable shields over the entire force of husks, shielding them from any gunfire.

Three creatures at the back, as well as two beside them, were ones he had never seen before. The three husks he saw were two legged with ridiculously thin legs; almost as if all muscle mass had been ripped from the body. Its upper torso was all that was left of its body, which seemed to stand ontop of the spine like it was a support strut. Where its heart should have been was replaced by a glowing power core, hooked up to an insane amount of circuits and cybernetics. Its arms were thicker than its legs, its left arm ending in three hook-like fingers, and its right ending in a powerful looking cannon, which seemed to extend longer than Garrus' sniper rifle. Its head gave away the species immediately; the salarian was missing its left horn, with the right twisted to the left side. One eye had been replaced with what was obviously supposed to be a sniper optic, confirming that the husk was meant as a sharpshooter. The other eye was a normal salarian eye, although it was now limp, with the iris looking blankly at the ground, rolling around in the useless socket.

The last two were obvious right from the get go; four, strong legs, reinforced with armoured steel, with its entire back lined with blue tubing that pulsed brightly as it ran directly into the animal's mouth. What had once been a long snout, ending in an equally long jaw containing rows of razor-sharp canines, all of which were now replaced by titanium duplicates of the original teeth, its eyes replaced with red optics. Its body was obviously large and powerful, and there was no denying that its shape was familiar; it was a varren.

All these different types of husks formed up to cut the squad off from their exit, and with them advancing, and the geth behind them trapping them, along with a Reaper Destroyer towering overhead, it looked like they were completely doomed. In a final last bid attempt to save them all, he reached a hand up to unholster his Cain, turning to take aim at the husks before them. He shouldered the weapon, walking back as he motioned for Tali to do the same, the quarian looking at him worriedly as he took aim with the weapon in preparation to blast themselves an exit.

_Impenetrable shields? Let's see how well they fair against a Cain rocket._

His hand moved to the trigger, grabbing ahold of it. He bit down on his lower lip, bringing the first chimera into view; it was right in the middle of the husk formation, and therefore the detonation would do the most damage if shot there, and have the most spread.  _Here goes nothing._ Bracing himself, he begins to pull the trigger...

...until a distant stops him. Frowning, he looks up from his weapon and towards the tunnel his team was trying to escape to; the source of the sound. It sounded like the vibration of an engine, the sound echoing throughout the tunnel until it sounded so loud that it felt like it was actually close. The sound reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but by the sound of it, and the growing intensity of it that symbolized it was getting closer, it was obviously a vehicle; a fast one at that. The combination of the sound and how close it was getting caused him to lower the Cain altogether and begin moving even further back, away from the husk pack and towards the geth behind them, who had ceased firing on the command of Oblivion.

Kaidan, sending a final burst of biotic energy forward, turned to Marcus, frowning in confusion, "Marcus, we need to-" the sentinel then stopped, now hearing the sound himself, "-what the hell is that sound? Does anybody else hear that?"

Garrus grumbled, whatever he was trying to say coming out as a strained groan, his broken mandible rendering anything he had to say as unintelligible nonsense. Kasumi, continuing to hold him up, strained to hear the sound as well, and the whole squad could only stop and turn as the sound reached its apex.

At that moment, Marcus had the instinctual need to  _duck._

So he did.

Dropping to the ground, promptly followed by the rest of his squad, he watched as the source of the sound appeared in the form of a geth tank, the vehicle shooting out of the tunnel into the yard. At first, Marcus wondered if this was only further reinforcement of the enemy forces before them, but why would Oblivion need to bother with that? He had husks approaching one side and geth from the other, so why waste more time by bringing in a tank?

The tank banked hard on a sharp right turn, the hover tank screeching as it turned so sharply that its left side briefly skidded along the decking. Righting itself, it then continued to speed forward, its turret rotating forward to face them. And it  _wasn't_  slowing down.

_Oh shit..._

"Hit the deck!" Marcus barked, dropping from his already crouched position into a prone drop, covering his head as his squad did the same, only able to watch as the tank continued to increase speed. Eventually, it hit both of the varren husks, the creatures not even seeing the vehicle coming as it simply slammed into them. Because it lacked wheels, this impact only sent the husks flying forward, roaring electronically as they were tossed away like ragdolls. One of them collided with an advancing marauder, which promptly fell forward, knocking over the two husks infront of it, and causing it to drop its rifle. The second varren crashed into the second chimera, the force of the collision so strong that the varren kept shooting forward while the chimera's head was half decapitated from its body, hanging limply on loose piping, but disconnecting enough of the circuits to cause its shield to fail.

With half of the husk pack now unshielded, and most of them halting their approach to turn and deal with the new threat, the tank's main cannon took aim and pulsed with light, red bolts of plasma darting forth to slam into the husk ranks. Six husks were instantly incinerated, with the shots continuing on to slice into one of the unidentified salarian husks, and killing another two marauders. The carnage continued, the squad standing up as they realized this tank was here to help, Marcus even wincing as he watched the chimera's torso bubble and pop, black liquid and froth spilling from its rupturued abdomen as it boiled and cooked from the plasma that opened it. The chimera collapsed, still clinging to life, which was promptly ended as Kaidan raised his rifle and emptied two bursts into it.

The other chimera screamed a cacophony, turning around while keeping its shield raised. The rest of the exposed husks turned to deal with the tank, but also managed to leave themselves open to Marcus' squad, who quickly raised their own weapons to empty lead into the husks. Marcus holstered his Cain, bringing out his Locust SMG as he joined the slaughter.

Oblivion's airhorn bellowed and, for a moment, Marcus thought its thanix cannon would blaze through and destroy the geth tank, once again showing that it owned the entire situation at hand. But just as the airhorn sounded, a thunderous sound, all too familiar, boomed through the sky, followed by a whoosh of air as four javelin torpedoes shot by, slamming into the Reaper. The quartet blasts that resulted from the attack lit up Oblivion's armoured carapace, but even as he turned around, he knew it had no impact and as if to confirm his suspicions, he watched as Oblivion merely flinched from the blasts, its red eye turning around to watch as the  _Normandy_ shot by, trying to take aim at the frigate. Because of this, the Reaper was forced to turn around, taking its focus off the team.

_Which was more than likely the point. Nice work, Joker._

Turning back, he watched as the chimera continued to roar angrily, its shield holding as the geth tank turned its attention to it. Another stream of crimson plasma shot from the barrel and, to his surprise, ignored the blue field around the chimera as it warped through it, striking the quarian husk dead center. Combined with the heat and most of its energy going into powering the shield it was projecting, the husk exploded in a burst of red and black, its 'blood' spilling out and drenching the squad. Marcus ignored the black ooze dripping down his armor however, simply using his SMG to begin picking off the remainder of the husks.

While his squad did that, the tank turned its cannon and began to fire upon the geth behind them, using its range to conduct artillery-like bombardments upon their ranks, blowing them apart one by one. With the odds turned against them, the geth began to retreat, knowing full well they could not win this. Even drones flew away, some of them falling from the sky as the plasma impacted them, either incinerating them outright or clipping them, sending them careening into the control or a fellow geth trooper. Overall, a straight victory had been turned into a defensive-offensive.

Finally, the last husk fell, and Marcus ordered his squad forward, towards the tank. Like clockwork, a voice he had long expected to hear spoke in the comms, giving him enormous relief, despite already suspecting their rescuer, "Shepard-Commander, we hope our assistance has proved adequate."

He could only grin as he limped towards the tank, ducking everytime it fired at the geth behind him, "Your timing couldn't be more impeccable. Although I doubt Oblivion's going to stay fooled by that distraction for long."

Legion's response, as always, was quick and to the point, one of the things he loved about the geth infiltrator, "We calculated that a shorter distraction would be more efficient than attempting a prolonged one. We contacted the  _Normandy_ to bombard the Old Machine just long enough for us to extract you, Shepard-Commander. With this said, we recommend immediate haste. We already detect Oblivion's programs honing in on us."

Reaching the tank, he saw a hatch that was now open in its side; the hatch itself opened like a venus flytrap's mouth, with four sections of door splitting open to reveal the interior. Most of his squad were already inside, with Tali rushing up to the door, turning to him and waving her hand, "Come on, Marcus! We need to get out of here and find another way to defeat Oblivion!"

He nodded, rushing up to the door. Grabbing Tali's working hand, he let her pull him inside, the engineer guiding him to a seat in the back, just under the main gun. Most of the squad were seated, Marcus turning to see Legion sitting in the main pilot's seat, hands hovering over the main console as what looked like mini-bolts of electricity shot up and linked to its hands, likely allowing it to control the vehicle. It blankly stared ahead, Legion likely uploading its programs to the vehicle to properly control it.

Kasumi was seated next to Garrus, the thief tending to his face, despite the turian's objections and ocassional grunts of pain. Shaking his head, he allowed Tali to seat him, the quarian quickly sitting beside him as she made sure he was alright. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed one of her hands and got her to look at him, "I'm fine, Tali. Stop fussing. We need to focus on the mission."

She nodded, and he let go of her hand, to which she dropped, holding onto his as she turned forward. They all watched as the hatch closed, Legion already reversing the vehicle, while firing the main gun simultaneously to cover their retreat. The vehicle shook as Oblivion moved around, likely suddenly made aware of the geth's presence or still struggling with the  _Normandy_ 's 'bug bites'. Either way, they were about to escape, and therefore it would not matter to them. Even as the tank brought itself around, it began to speed for the tunnel it entered from, the lull in activity leaving him alone with his thoughts.

_Fuck. Everything's gone to shit. If Oblivion is the signal, how the hell do we free the geth? The simple solution would be to destroy Oblivion, but even that isn't_ _**that** _ _simple. It was hard enough actually getting Kalros to actually_ _**kill** _ _Vanguard last time, and now we don't even_ _**have** _ _Kalros this time. How the hell are we going to take it down? With our rifles? Yeah, great plan._

They couldn't call in the  _Normandy_ to deal with it; the only thing capable of destroying Oblivion was the ship's thanix cannon, and while it would kill the Reaper in one shot, the collateral damage would be ridiculous; there was no doubt that the explosive damage would be enough to wipe out all the UGC ground forces. They couldn't draw it away, because if they tried, Oblivion would just pursue them, and then if the  _Normandy_ fired, the blast would kill them instead. Either way, someone would die.

 _So calling in the Normandy for air support is a no go. What else is there?_   _Sure, plasma weapons have proven to be superior to anything in the Reaper arsenal, but how effective would they really be? AA guns are only so useful against ground targets anyway, and Oblivion would likely just withdraw to a safe distance, so that's not effective either; not to mention that Vass and his men have retreated, so we no longer have control of the base's defenses anymore, anyway._

_Calling in an orbital bombardment from the Fleet wouldn't work for three reasons: again, there's the dilemma of massive collateral damage, likely even worse than firing the thanix. The spread would be enormous. Two, how would we coordinate such a strike? Without something to paint the target, the Flotilla would be firing blind, and the spread would be even larger due to the disorganized firing. Three, the Migrant Fleet would actually have to stop to engage Oblivion, which would allow the geth fleet to catch up. Any longer, and the Fleet would be cornered by the pursuing ships and the blockade, and undoubtably be annihilated. Orbital bombardment just isn't practical, and its effectiveness against a Reaper is limited at best; if the high-tech weaponry of the geth hardly do anything, what will the quarian weapons do? Not much._

More thoughts like this and more sifted through Marcus' mind as Legion's commandeered geth tank sped through the tunnel, its cannon having long ceased fire; obviously, the geth had not given pursuit, or were currently unable to. Regardless of the circumstances, this was good news for the squad, as they now had a clear line of escape; if that was indeed what they were doing.

_We can't just leave. Oblivion needs to be taken care of! If we can just get it into space, perhaps we could_ _**then** _ _justify deploying the thanix against it..._

But Oblivion would know that; the Reapers were arrogant, but they were far from stupid. The Reaper destroyer would know that staying on the ground and near enemy ground forces would mean that, tactically, any orbital bombardment or use of high-powered WMDs would be detrimental than effective.

_If we had a nuclear warhead, we could bomb Oblivion; but even then, nuclear warheads have proven to have a limited effectiveness against the Reapers, and again, there will obviously be collateral damage from an airburst nuke being dropped on it. Fuck! There has to be something we can do! We only need to find a weakness in its exterior defenses, a crack that we can exploit, some structural flaw we can dig into..._

At that point, Marcus knew he was grasping at straws. If the previous cycles hadn't found any structural flaws in the Reaper design, then how could they? Hell, if such a flaw had been discovered, why would the inusannon or protheans have needed to build the Crucible? It just seemed like they were already out of options.

Suddenly, Legion spoke, its voice breaking through his thoughts, "Shepard-Commander, we our now out of range of the Old Machine known as Oblivion. What course of action do we believe we should take?"

All eyes were on him, and he could only sink further into thought, still paralyzed in indecision.  _I just don't see a logical way we can deal with this without inflicting massive casualities...just no way at all..._

_We have no choice; the Normandy can have the thanix deployed in seconds and fire just as quickly. It'll destroy Oblivion, and free the geth. That's what we came here to do; take out the signal. The 39th and 45th knew what they came here to do...they knew the stakes. So did Vass' men, and Moses..._

_But what about Kal, Madi, James, Liara and EDI? Are you willing to sacrifice them all? You sent them to the north just moments ago. If you have the Normandy open fire, you'll be condemning them all to die!_

_I have no choice! Oblivion must die, and that is the only way! If we're lucky, the casualities will be light! We can't let this opportunity slip away! We can save the geth, right here, right now! One final swipe, and its all over! No more quarians have to die needlessly over this stupid war! No more geth have to be destroyed while under Reaper control! We can save Rannoch! Just give the order, and it'll all be over!_

_But at what cost?_

_The necessary cost! Victory at any cost!_

He looked up, surveying the room. All eyes were on him, ready for him to give the order to condemn their friends to death, and the lives of hundreds more to stop Oblivion. The death of one Reaper at the cost of their allies. But he realized that he was the only one would make such a decision; the reason he had been chosen to lead the UGC was because he could make them; the tough choices. The ones that sacrificed lives to save more. Who sacrificed their own happiness to ensure the survival of others. Who else could make these decisions if not himself? If he wavered, who would be left to take up the stick and carry on?

He gulped, tearing his gaze away to look at the ground, suddenly feeling judged. Like their eyes were tearing him apart, seeing into his thoughts.  _Forgive me, but it must be done. Forgive me, for it must be done. I can only do what is necessary for the survival of the-_

_Wait._

His head shot up, the squad almost looking taken aback by his sudden return to life. He rummaged through his previous thoughts, picking apart all his previous notions of defeatism as he tried to paint a strategy for taking down the Reaper destroyer. Eventually, he came to a significant conclusion that should have been obvious from the start.

_All this time, all these tactical ideas I've been going through, and every single one has been focused on trying to destroy the Reaper via conventional means. Nukes, thanix cannons and orbital bombardments, and never once did I think to get_ _**under** _ _the armor. Yes, attacking it from the exterior is an exercise in pointlessness due to how thick its armor is; its almost close to the literal definition of an unsinkable warship. But if we can't penetrate its armor from the outside...then perhaps we need to destroy it from the_ _**inside** _ _..._

And just like that, he had an idea. A dangerous one, as always. Stupid, even. But a plan that would work.

He looked back up, immediately looking at Legion, despite the gesture being unnecessary, "Legion, is it possible for a passenger to man the gun?"

The geth's response was immediate, "Yes, Shepard-Commander. In the case that a single platform is preferred for piloting this craft, a second platform can assume control of the main gun."

"Good," he responded, gently grabbing the Cain on his back and unlatching it, standing it up on the seat beside him and against the bulkhead. With a sigh he stood up, squeezing past Tali as he moved for the gun, "Keep going down the tunnel and, if you can, get us outside the base, but make sure we're in clear view of Oblivion. If we're not, bring us close enough so that we are. I'm going to need a clear shot."

"Acknowledged," the geth replied without objection, and the vehicle continued forward, Marcus feeling as if the tank had almost increased in speed; although, that was more than likely his imagination. Without waiting, he stood up just enough for him to reach the gun, and felt the platform rise into the almost dome-shaped cockpit of the gun. The systems looked convoluted and complex; too much for him to learn in such a short space in time. Still, deciding to mimick what Legion was doing to control the vehicle, he raised both of his hands, and brought them towards the console before him. With an almost comical grin, he watched as similiar bolts of light leapt from the console to his hand, and noticed that as this occurred, the cannon seemed to move slightly in reaction. He moved his left hand to left, and watched with relief as the cannon rotated in that direction. From the looks of it, he could control it simply by swerving his hands in that direction.

_Very simplistic. But how do I fire?_

As he was trying to figure this out however, Tali spoke up, shaking her head, "Marcus, what are you doing?"

Without turning to look at her, he continued to try and figure out to fire the gun while explaining his actions, "For starters, luring Oblivion away from the fortress. If we can get it to leave the base and into the open, it'll not only be easier to take out, but we won't have to worry about any casualities on our end. Then we can take it out and end this." With that, he continued his investigation into the cannon and finally, unable to figure it out, he turned to their geth pilot, "Legion, how the hell do I fire this thing!?"

"For organics, the gesture would be simple enough. Simply clench your fist once aimed at the target you have appropriated."

For a few moments he stood there, dumbfounded. Turning back around he held up his left and did exactly that, watching as the cannon shuddered, and red plasma erupted from the barrel to slam into the ceiling of the tunnel, creating a large gaping hole that began to disappear as their tank raced away from it. The explosion was enough to cause a cave-in however, and bits of concrete and steel rained from the hole onto the ground, boiling and hissing with steam.

_Clenching my fist? Should have been fairly obvious, really. Why didn't I think to try that before asking?_

"Shepard-Commander," Legion spoke up once more, "We are about to leave the base. Given the coordinates and position of Oblivion within the fortress, we calculate that proceeding west towards the coast would allow you the view you need to fire upon the Old Machine. Once Oblivion's attention is acquired, we recommend allowing us to use the coast as a guide away from the fortress. Oblivion will be forced to pursue us via the water, which will dramatically slow its progress."

_Well, making Oblivion slower will definitely make my plan much easier to pull off..._

"Copy that, Legion. Do what you think is necessary," with a frown, he turned back, confused, "Wait, how far are we from the nearest beach?"

"The western wall of the base is built upon the foundations of a cliffside just beside the water," the geth explained, "Because of this, it will only take us three minutes to reach the coast at full speed. The area we are entering now, located on the otherside of the southern wall, was once named by the creators as Ar'sha Canyon, with the Shaaaath Ocean to the west," with that elaborated, Marcus watched as the tunnel disappeared from view, giving him a full view of the southern wall, which towered far above them. Looking to the east, he was able to see the massive hole that had punctured the wall, the flaming wreckage of the geth light cruiser lying on its side, gutted and destroyed, flames and smoke so thick that they blotted out the sky. Soon, Legion spoke, the vehicle coming to a stop as the geth turned the vehicle around and started to head to the south west, "We are now moving into position. Shepard-Commander, you will have a limited window. You must be quick."

_Excellent._

Right on cue, an airhorn blared across the canyon, echoing across the land, alerting those that weren't already aware of the Reaper to its presence. With a grunt, he brought the gun around, watching as the tip of the destroyer began to slip into view.  _Here we go._ He quickly and gently took aim, the cannon's barrel bringing itself up to land over the ever growing frame of the giant scorpion-like vessel.

_This tank's shot will be like a bug bite to that ship. But just like all bug bites, they're irritating enough to draw attention. Which is exactly what we need...what_ _**I** _ _need..._

Within moments, the crew watched as Oblivion's body came into full view, seemingly standing still. The  _Normandy_ had long since broken off, flying back into orbit, its distraction having been successful. Now, the Reaper stood still, almost holding a rigid vigil next to the command tower, its jutted back spiking through the sky as it lazily lulled back and forth, its giant red eye likely scanning the area below for Marcus and his team. Given that he did not hear the voice of the Reaper in his head, it had not found them yet, but the moment he heard it, he knew they would have been spotted.

_Can't believe I'm actually anticipating the moment I hear that voice in my head..._

Its airhorn screamed once more, sounding almost angry this time as it demanded Marcus show himself.

_Over here, asshole..._

Tikkun's light, for the briefest of seconds, glinted on Oblivion's hide, bouncing the light off and temporarily blinding him. With a growl of anger, he took a few more moments to steady the gun, rotate it slightly further to compensate for wind, and then fired.

Despite how slow plasma may have looked to others, in reality it was just as fast as any mass acellerated bullet. Red lances darted forward with extreme force, seemingly lighting up the air as it continued towards its target in an almost linear line. Luckily for Marcus, his calculations turned out to have worked fine, and he watched with a gulp as the rounds distantly struck just off Oblivion's starboard side, detonating in a cascade of red that was almost lost in the Tikkun light and the Reaper's already crimson color scheme.

Its reaction was almost instantaneous; Its swaying movements ceased immediately, and it immediately moved its legs back to see the source of the shot. Even at the speed their tank was moving at, it didn't have enough time to disappear behind the rocks that they were rapidly approaching, and Marcus watched as Oblivion completed its turn, red eye locking onto the rapidly moving vehicle. Its eye felt like it was boring directly into his, and Marcus just stared back, his own glare steely and cold.

_I see you too. Come and get me._

_**Shepard. You cannot hide from us. Submit.** _

_Fuck you._

_**Your resistance is as pointless as this conflict you term a 'war.' You will be destroyed and scattered to the wind like the others before you. You-** _

_I've heard the same garbage before; you're like a broken record. I've heard it from Sovereign, Harbinger, Vanguard and now you. And you know what? I don't care. So why don't you give up your little speeches and come and fucking get me._

Oblivion didn't even grace him with a response. Like a provoked scorpion turning to engage its target, the Reaper's airhorn boomed once more, and began to move forward.

Despite all the headway they had made, and how fast their vehicle was moving, it was almost as if Oblivion was  _dashing_ towards them.  _Sprinting_ even. Beginning its trek, it lifted itself up into the air, curling its legs up in a fetal position as it began to levitate, hovering up further and further into the air until was flying. Once it was above the wall, it casually glided towards them, shooting past the wall and gaining on them with rapidly closing speed.

"Shit, he's gaining on us!" Marcus exclaimed, suddenly feeling the need to fire upon the Reaper. From what he could see, what Legion had said about plasma had been correct; the black scorch mark on the destroyer's starboard side could be clearly seen, bigger than the initial impact and still sizzling with residual energy, so much so that the armor had actually melted inwards by a dozen meters. What had taken an entire fleet of ships to penetrate had taken a single bolt from a bloody  _tank_ to do. He shuddered to imagine what that super-dreadnought's main gun could do to a fully-shielded, unharmed Sovereign-Class Reaper. Or even  _Harbinger itself._

_Hopefully one shot the bastard..._

But despite all of that, the one shot had been simply shrugged off by the Reaper, and he doubted firing more would even delay its movement.

"Affirmative. We are rerouting power from weapons and shields to engines. Stand by," was Legion's response, managing to execute all these actions without so much as flinching, managing to evade a set of two rocks as it continued its movement towards the beach. Marcus watched as the console for the main gun blinked and then dimmed completely, darkening to a bare shine as the bolts latching onto his hands disappeared. Despite this, he couldn't help but stand where he was, watching as Oblivion, still flying, began to gain on them...

Suddenly, the vehicle gained newfound acelleration, and shot forward even  _faster_. He watched as what had been Oblivion gaining speed on them turned into them getting further away from the Reaper and, as Marcus watched on, he saw Oblivion quickly compensating. Despite Legion's actions, the Reaper was able to sufficiently gain speed on them and within moments, had returned to the same pace it had maintained before they gained speed.

"Keelah..." Tali exclaimed, "...we need to contact the  _Normandy_! Its almost on us!"

A moment later, the tank reached the coast. Marcus knew this because Legion executed a sharp turn around a corner, with Oblivion almost shooting past as it failed to emulate the same turn. To his left however, was one of the more beautiful sights he had seen in his life. As their tank began to glide across the water, the saltly ocean waters spraying up in the air as they shot across it, he could see nothing but ocean stretch out before them, its pure blue beauty reminiscent of the Mediterrenean back on Earth. Waves crashed along the beach's edge, abruptly halted in some areas by pieces of rock jutting out of the ground. Never had he seen something so beautiful before...

"Keelah," came Tali's voice, and Marcus couldn't help but smile, despite their situation, as he imagined his wife's wonder, "Its beautiful..."

The sound of an airhorn brought them back to the situation before them.

Tired of playing its game of cat and mouse, Oblivion suddenly halted its flight, turning sharply towards them before its legs suddenly stretched out before it. As abruptly as it had stopped, the Reaper slammed into the water, legs acting as shock absorbers as it fell into a crouched position, water shooting up into the air and coating it, dripping down its armor and soaking it from its legs down. The scene was almost like something out of War of the Worlds; a large tripod extending from its watery station, coming to stand up to its full height as its glaring red eye positioned itself at them, glowing with intense hot-

_Glowing!_

Legion did not need telling, the geth swerving the vehicle to the left as Oblivion's thanix cannon fired, a long string of molten metal slicing through the air to rake across the water, trailing them for several seconds before ceasing its onslaught, leaving a long trail of flushed white water in its wake, the steam disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Its airhorn blared again. This time, it was  _definitely_ angry. He could only smirk in delight.

_Having fun are we, Oblivion? I thought machines of your magnitude couldn't get frustrated?_

The Reaper refused to respond as it turned infront of them and fired again. Legion was way ahead of it however, and it swerved right, causing the shot to miss completely, slamming uselessly into the ocean in a mighty splash. Another airhorn, followed by another shot. The entire time, Oblivion stalked slowly towards them; seemingly sluggish, yet still maintaining pace with them, its long strides pushing aside the water around them as each long stride managed to cover a significant distance.

Its third shot wasn't even aiming at them, instead cutting through a pair of rocky pillars, almost like those of the Twelve Apostles on Earth. The laser-like shot cut through them with ease, the rocky struts beginning to collapse infront of them with a cacophonic and tremendous set of explosions. Had Legion's reaction time not been absurdly fantastic (almost as if was able to predict every shot before it happened), Marcus might have panicked at the sight. As it was, they simply turned left as they watched the rocks uselessly crash into the waters below them, spraying salt water all over the tank's armoured carapace as it darted by.

"Well, we've certainly lured it away from the base now," Kasumi pointed out, "So are we going to call in the  _Normandy_ to blow it up now or what?"

With a sigh, Marcus' grin disappeared and, tearing his gaze away from the pursuing Oblivion and its pot shots, he crouched, allowing him to stand at eye level with his squad, "I'm going to call in the  _Normandy_ Kasumi, but not for a bombardment; only another distraction."

The thief frowned but before she could say anything, Tali grabbed his shoulder, turning him towards her as she glared at him, "Marcus, you're going to tell us your plan right now, because so far you've been very vague about it."

He nodded, sighing with defeat, "I know, because what I have planned is ridiculously stupid, but seemingly the only way to defeat Oblivion. I wanted to lure Oblivion away so it would be out in the open and easier to execute my plan; if we have the  _Normandy_ use the thanix now, we'll still be too close to escape the blast," turning to the geth infront of him, he asked the fatal question, "Legion, if we had the  _Normandy_ fire at Oblivion now, at this distance, what are our chances of surviving?"

The geth seemed to hesitate for several moments, likely gathering the necessary data, before responding, "The likelihood of survival would be 9.2 percent. The explosive force of the thanix technology, combined with the calculated distance between us and the Old Machine would result in our complete destruction in all likely simulations. Chances of our survival are so low they are not worth simulating."

A collective sigh was heard around the entire squad, and it was Kaidan who had to ask what to do next, "Well, we can't lose Oblivion without a sufficient distraction, and even if the  _Normandy_ provides that distraction, Oblivion could just ignore it and continue pursuing us. And if it does, by some chance, fall for the distraction  _again_ , it knows where we are now. It could just fly again, close the distance and rinse and repeat what its doing now. We'd get nowhere."

"Which is why my idea is the only one that'll work," Marcus stated, pointing to the Reaper outside, "Oblivion's just going to keep coming back at us, and with the signal under its control, its pivotal we destroy it. Now, we call in the  _Normandy_  for another airstrike and that'll momentarily stop Oblivion and distract it. Knowing the Reapers, even if they know its a distraction, they'll be forced to stop and at least acknowledge the new threat before it moves forward. That interval of time will give me just enough time to pull off what I need to do. And guys, you aren't going to like it."

"If it involves the destruction of another Reaper, I will gladly assist," Javik deadpanned, looking thoroughly disinterested with Marcus' dramatics, and annoyed at the squad's apprehension, "The death of a Reaper is a victory in and of itself."

He nodded, moving towards Tali as he grabbed the Cain sitting beside her. Picking it up, he brought it back to where he had stood, the tank continuing evasive movements in the background. As he brought the Cain inbetween his legs, he reached up to his helmet's comms, contacting the  _Normandy_ , "Joker, this is Marcus. I need you to launch another airstrike on the Reaper. I need you to distract it."

"Another one?" the pilot replied, "Alright captain, but I don't know how effective it'll be. You know; fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. No way Oblivion's going to be stupid enough to fall for it a second time, sir."

"Just do it, Joker," he snapped, disconnecting the comms as he didn't bother waiting for the response. He quickly turned back to the group, reaching behind his back and grabbing one of the missiles attached to the Cain's side. Unlatching it, he carelessly tossed the Cain aside, followed by his SMG, pistol and shotgun. By the end, he was totally devoid of any weapons besides the one missile he had taken; one he promptly attached to his back. Turning back to his confused squad, he elaborated.

"We can pepper Oblivion all day, but in the end, that armor isn't going to yield one bit. We'll be here for hours trying to penetrate that armor, and imagine how many lives will be lost in that time? So I figured that instead of trying to kill it from the outside, we should get under the armor and kill it from there; a large, unyieldly interior blast originating from a critical power source will be enough to down the Reaper...in theory," he stated, "And such is my ridiculous plan. The  _Normandy_ will distract Oblivion, while Legion gets me close to one of its legs. I'll latch on, climb up to its eye, and when its about to fire again, I'll take this missile...," he motioned to the weapon he was referring to, "And shove it somewhere around its eye. I'll then drop into the water and, if my theory adds up, the explosion of a mini-nuke coming from its main weapon and power source will not only cripple Oblivion, it will  _kill it_."

After the grand unveiling of his plan, the entire squad was silent. Kaidan had long since removed his helmet, allowing Marcus to see the indecision in his eyes, the rising objection that he bit down out of respect and trust in his commanding officer. The major had matured alot since their days on the SR-1, and the spectre respected him for it; sweat coated his features, ranging from almost bright skin to slick, sticky hair grabbing at his face. He wiped it aside, meeting Marcus' eyes in that moment and from there, he knew that he was with him no matter what decision he made. Kasumi looked dumbfounded, shaking her head as she was unable to even laugh at the absurdity of climbing up a bloody  _Reaper_ to stick something as  _pathetic_ as a mini-nuclear rocket into what amounted to its eye socket.

Garrus said nothing, looking at him and simply nodding; no matter the plan, Garrus was with him; if anything, Marcus believed the turian had been ready to support him before he laid out his stupid plan. Unable to properly speak, a nod was the only support he could offer, medi-gel now plastered against his injured face; it was likely that the amount of medi-gel made him so whoozy that he was unable to make coherent thoughts anyway.

"In my people's war with the Reapers, during the Battle of the Star Xelchia," Javik spoke up, every single one of his four eyes all focused on Marcus, voice sentimental and thought driven, "Many soldiers attempted to do the same with a prototype antimatter bomb with a Reaper destroyer much like this one. It was the first and only time a Reaper revealed its name to us; Acedia it called itself. Of course, my people were not experienced with such a devastating weapon. It detonated as planned, but the entire force was lost; it also marked one of the only confirmed destruction of a Reaper; there was not even wreckage left to recognize it by. My point is that your mission is extremely dangerous, but were you a soldier in the Empire, you would have been looked upon with admiration and glee," the prothean, as glum, stoic and morose as he usually was, suddenly let a ghost of a smile crack across his lips, "I wish you good fortune in your endeavour, captain."

Tali and, to his surprise, Keeling did not agree as much however, the N7 looking at him with blatant disapproval. Tali got in first, shaking her head, "No, this idea is ludicrous. We'll find another way; you'll get yourself killed trying to do this! I mean...keelah, are you  _mad_!? Have you completely taken leave of your senses?"

Marcus just smirked at her, chuckling lightly, "I've always been slightly mad, love. This is just another on my list of 'ways to get myself killed.'"

"This isn't funny! You can't just joke yourself out of this one!" Tali continued to object, her fists clenched and shaking, "No, I won't let you do it! This is beyond idiotic!"

"In Marcus' defense, you haven't seen the vids of what he did on Tuchanka with the Reaper protecting the Shroud," Kaidan piped up, almost grinning himself as he turned to the terrified quarian, "Tali, he deliberately lured a thresher maw larger than ten dreadnoughts to his location just to kill a Reaper! He survived that, so I don't see why he wouldn't survive this."

"Summoning a thresher maw to kill a Reaper is  _one_  thing, but  _climbing_ upit and shoving a  _missile_ into its  _face_? That doesn't even mark anywhere near as suicidal!" she just turned to Marcus, eyes glaring into his, "We've got to find another solution that doesn't involve you getting yourself killed!" From the looks of it, his wife wasn't budging on the matter, but more to the point, Marcus had already decided on his course of action and wasn't going to hold back.

Suddenly, Legion's voice broke through the tension, "The  _Normandy_ is closing with the Old Machine. It will engage in one minute. We are preparing our approach."

He nodded, turning back as he moved towards the hatch in preparation, "Open the hatch as we approach, Legion," he quickly tapped the missile to make sure it was there. The payload of a Cain was capable of being detonated as a separate charge, and therefore did not require the actual weapon to fire it. Because of this, it could also be timed, "Once I'm in a position to put the missile in place, I'll set it on a timer of five seconds. That should give me enough time to jump into the water below and escape the blast."

"But your armor is too heavy," Kaidan pointed out, "With the extra weight...Marcus, you'll drown."

"Good point," with that said, the captain began the process of stripping his armor, first starting with his armor, and working his way down. Even as he did this however, Tali was continuing to object, worry taking over her reason.

"This is beyond insane! You'll  _die_!" she spat, moving up to him and standing inches from his face, as if to try and draw his attention. He paid her no mind, hating the fact that he had to ignore her to get his point across: his mind was made up. There was no other way. Eventually, he found himself down to his legs, and was beginning the process of removing them just as Tali grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him around, angrily glaring at him, " _Listen to me_! You are  _not_ going out there! I won't allow it!"

He shook his head, "We're not having this conversation, Tali. I have to do this. You know I have to. Do you have any other idea on how to take it down?"

And as quickly as the admiral's fury had proven itself, it dissipated just as quickly, the engineer desperately fumbling for a solution. Her mouth opened and closed behind her mask, tapping her visor in thought, but eventually she shrugged her arms, looking back at him. She looked almost defeated, "I don't know...damn it, I don't..." she collapsed back into her seat, holding her helmet in her hands, "I just don't... _know_..."

In moments, he dropped into a crouch beside her, grabbing hold of her hands and pulling them away from her helmet as she gently squeezed them, "Tali, you have  _got_ to trust me right now. This  _needs_ to be done. Now, do you really think I would propose this plan if I didn't think I could pull it off?"

"Yes..." was the quarian's immediate answer, looking up into his eyes, daring him to refute her answer.

"Okay, maybe you're right. But did I ever fail?" was his counter-argument, shaking his head as he sighed, trying to find the best possible way to persuade her that this would work, "Tali, I know this is hard, but this is the way of the job. I can't save your people or the geth without taking out that signal, and to do that, Oblivion needs to go. This is the only way to do that. Deep down, I know you know that. I can already tell. You need to  _trust_ me like I  _trust_ you. It won't be easy, but I know you won't let me down," with a smile, he added, "Besides, with the motivation I've got, you can be damn sure I'll blow Oblivion to hell."

That at least got a laugh out of her and she nodded, rubbing the sides of her hood, "You're right. Damn it, you're right. I just...you know this is insane, right? Climbing up a Reaper to put a missile in its metaphorical mouth? Its...its..."

"Suicide?" he asked, and the quarian nodded, laughing at her own words.

"And considering all we've pulled off, I realize now that my worry is pretty silly," his wife admitted, shrugging her shoulders non-chalantly, "We've done suicide before, and came out with a few bruises; I know that if anyone can do this, its you, Marcus. I...trust you. That...that was never in any doubt. I trust you implicitly to see this through. But you better make that jump once you're done, you hear me?"

He smiled, tapping his forehead to her mask, "I promise,  _yol'tiya._  I  _promise_."

"Shepard-Commander," the geth spoke up, interrupting whatever Tali had to say in response, "11 seconds to  _Normandy_ contact with Old Machine; we are bringing the vehicle around in preparation for operation."

"Copy that, Legion," he replied, not turning as he looked into Tali's eyes one final time; there was no way he could miss the smile behind her mask, even with all the tint. Kissing her on the visor, he stood up, letting go of her hands as he shed the last remnants of his armor. Throwing it aside, he stood there with nothing but the protective weave that he wore underneath it, feeling naked without his armor and weapons. Picking up the missile, he held it firmly in his grasp, picking up a magnetic clasp in his other as he tucked it against his hip, attaching the missile to it. It would weigh him down, but if he used his cybernetics correctly, he would be able to climb up the Reaper's side with relatively no problems.

Another missed shot later, and the  _Normandy_ finally made its bombing run, Marcus standing up in the gun turret to watch as more torpedoes detonated off its side, causing Oblivion to halt in its approach. Snapping its look upwards, it fired the lance of tungsten meant for them into the sky, trying to scythe through the  _Normandy_ as it shot past; unfortunately for the Reaper, this was Joker at the helm, with EDI in support, which meant the ship was able to roughly tilt to port to avoid the shot, passing by with the pulse just barely grazing its cyclonic barriers.

Angered, Oblivion once again seemed to fall for the diversion, stopping in the middle of the water, dozens of meters from shore, to turn and face the  _Normandy_ 's direction as it charged up another thanix round; now was their chance. Quickly moving across the tank to the hatch, he turned to their geth driver, "Legion, you know what to do! Bring me to the closest leg and bring us alongside it! Give me an angle to jump from!"

The geth did not bother to respond this time, simply slowly the vehicle down enough to bring it into a proper turn, swerving across the water as it made another sharp left turn. Once fully rotated, the tank made full speed for Oblivion, who was still engaged with the  _Normandy_. The frigate dived down once more, raking the destroyer's side with missiles before darting back into the clouds, once again just avoiding a grazing red lance.

Standing by the hatch, he took a deep breath, barely hearing Kaidan's quip, "Can't believe we're actually heading  _towards_ the Reaper this time. Admiral Hackett is going to wonder if we all have a genuine death wish."

Keeling's response was flat, still believing the plan to be beyond ridiculous, "More so if we actually manage to pull it off."

"Contact in six seconds," Legion listed, "Opening hatch."

With another deep breath, Marcus watched as the hatch once again split open like that of the carnivorous venus flytrap, armoured sheets of plating moving aside to let the wind slap at his exposed face and drops of water soak his lower legs, entering the interior of the vehicle, but only just barely, dripping casually back out in a slosh. He watched Oblivion's rapidly approaching form, the tank getting closer and closer to its right forward leg. It remained the most unmoving, the Reaper now completely focused on the  _Normandy_ as it passed for the third and final time, its shadow briefly darting over them, followed by the deafening sound of an airhorn. In those final seconds, Marcus' version was taken up by the Reaper's leg, the massive appendage buried under 6 meters of water, with the ocean sloshing around the intruding piece of machinery.

The tank loomed so close until they were only within jump distance of it; so close they could almost graze against it. With another deep breath, he turned to his squad and nodded, before turning to Legion, "Get as far away as possible, but keep an eye on me! When you see me jump, come and pick me up! Don't leave me flopping like a fish."

"Acknowledged," came its... _his_...signature response.

Turning back to the Reaper, he braced his left leg in preparation make the jump. He took numerous breaths, tensing his muscles as he eyed the leg, looking for a place to sink in his grip. Spotting it, he found a jutting crack in between a segmentation of the joints; a perfect place to grab ahold of once he jumped. He had no way of knowing if the Reaper could actually feel him climbing up it, and subsequently be alerted to his presence, but he needed to get up there ASAP, and this was the only way.

Just before he made the jump, Tali spoke, her voice warm and assuring, not a speck of worry left in it, "I love you, Mark."

He turned to her, surprised by her use of his suggested name and, with a large grin on his face, nodded back, "Keelah Re'lai."

And with that, he turned, braced once more, and  _leapt._

There was a brief couple of microseconds as his body moved through the close to non-existent distance between him and the Reaper's leg, before his body suddenly collided with the cold metal. He cried out as he immediately grabbed hold of the crack he aimed for, all five fingers on both hands clenching around the rough metal, even as he felt it cut into his hands and blood begin to seep between his palms and the crimson metal. Crying out, and ignoring the flaring in his already tortured ribcage, he didn't have time to acknowledge the sound of the geth tank speeding away as he opened his eyes to assess his situation.

So far, Oblivion had not moved, and he was able to look up and see that its form was barely moving. He felt water ocassionally splash against his exposed frame as waves found their naturally scripted paths interrupted by the invading behemoth, soaking him in freezing cold ocean water. He bit down on his lower lip, trying to ignore the cold now seeping into his bones and soaking his undersuit as he tried to find another way to get up. Steadily and calmly, he ignored the slits in his hands as he roughly pulled himself up, not stopping until he was finally able to spin around and sit down on the crack, hoping to God that the destroyer didn't decide to move while he was like this. Reaching into his pockets, he retrieved his backup supply of medi-gel and gently dabbed it across the slits in his wrists, managing to stop the almost non-stop flow of blood. The rest of his arms were already drenched in it, and it had begun to drip down the side of Oblivion's leg, but with the medi-gel now coating his hands, it would no longer be a problem.

_That was all the medi-gel I had, though. Better hope I don't get anymore major injuries._

The agony flaring in his ribcage was almost too much to bear, and his nose chosen then to once again flare, but he needed to bite through it and climb up this Reaper, or all hope was lost.

Without so much as an after thought, he turned and looked up the Reaper's side, and felt unfetered hate begin to fuel him seemingly out of nowhere. He remembered all the things he had seen the Reapers do during his time fighting them. He remembered what Sovereign had done to Saren, and how, in the end, he had felt sorry for the rogue turian spectre. He remembered the revelation of the Collectors being the protheans turned into husks, and how Mordin had described to him every little aspect of what the Reapers had done to them; how they converted the remnants of a proud species into mindless drones. He remembered how the  _Collectors_ , on the whims of  _Harbinger_ and his  _ilk_ , had  _melted down_ innocent human colonists  _alive_ as they  _kicked_ and  _screamed_ , trying to  _get out._  He remembered how the Reapers had turned Kenson and her men, honourable people, into little puppets that he was forced to kill. Every  _atrocity_. Every  _crime_ on  _organic_ sovereignty. Every  _death_ that was ever  _caused_ by  _them._

A barely contained growl strained to leave his lips, and he found sudden fuel driving his body to  _climb._ To  _move._ The missile, a weight that had been on his side, wearing him down the moment he leapt onto the Reaper's leg, suddenly felt as if it weren't even there. The angry flaring of pain in his ribs  _vanished._  His bloody, battered nose ceased its demanding torrent of agony as he quickly found the next ledge and grabbed a hold of it, the throbbing in his hands barely felt as he turned into a drone; focused on nothing but progressing upwards.

Tali's words as he left the tank; saying his short name for the first time; a word he wanted to  _hear_ far more often. He was  _standing_ on a world that no organic had stood on for centuries; the very mark of any organic civilization almost entirely missing from its surface. He was  _honoured_ with the ability to  _stand_ on it. And even now, as he was given an almost unmarred view of the beautiful ocean ahead, he could only wonder if this was going to be his new home. Not the  _Normandy._  Not some space station in the middle of nowhere. Not some backwater colony. Not Earth.  _Rannoch._ The homeworld of the quarian species; the birth place of his wife's race, and a race he was  _proud_ to know of. Despite everything they had done; the atrocities he had watched their ancestors commit in historical recordings...he still  _loved_ them all. He  _felt_ for them all. They were, despite all reasons to the contrary,  _his_ people.

This was as much his fight as anyone else's. He had  _promised_ his wife a homeworld. He had promised to  _build_ her that house. To reclaim the very land that she deserved to grow up on but was deprived of due to the stupidity of her descendants! He was going to give her that homeworld! He was going to build that damn house, right on the side of the ocean! Three hundred years was too long for a species to be deprived of a world to call their own; this exile was  _over._

Just as the krogan deserved a second chance,  _so did the quarians!_

More and more anger fuelled his passionate climb, climbing meter after meter, not even bothering to look down to see how far he had climbed; so far, without even realizing it, he had treked the side of the monster's leg by 30 meters without even looking down, and he was only climbing higher. He was half way to the top of the monstrosity, sighing heavily as Oblivion began to move, the  _Normandy_ having long since left, and the Reaper now looking for the geth tank once more.

For a brief moment, he ceased his movement, holding himself tightly to the destroyer's leg as its seemingly all-seeing eye swept past him, crimson light looking for a target. Finally, it managed to find it, and as Marcus began to climb again, Oblivion totally unaware of his presence, the Reaper began to move, lifting one leg after the other in massive strides, moving deeper and deeper into the ocean's depths after Legion and his squad.

Despite the back and forth movements of the legs, Marcus found it still relatively easy to move, and was undeterred as he just kept moving, his mind a flurry of emotions and thoughts, all angry, loving and passionate.

He thought of Junior; his child. His  _son._ His own  _flesh_ and  _blood._ He hadn't been there when his wife gave birth, but seeing him for the first time, to realize that he was a  _father_...he wasn't going to let the  _Reapers_ take that from him! He wasn't about to let his son be born in a world in total chaos and on the brink of destruction! The least he could do was put him somewhere safe; a place where he would be untouched by the Reapers and their corruption, allowing him time to gather forces and activate the Crucible. Then he would return home and be a  _father_.

 _Rannoch. Rannoch_ was his home now! Tali's home!  _Junior's_  home!

_I will not allow this gigantic sack of shit...this 150 meter tall sack of shit...take that away from me. No. You think you've fucking won? You thought I would just roll over and die? You thought that your mere presence was going to_ _**scare** _ _me? Do you know who I am, you piece of monstrosity? You say I am nothing, that we are all_ _**nothing** _ _, but that couldn't be more wrong!_ _**You are nothing!** _ _We are capable of fantastic things! We are capable of creation, hope, peace, teamwork, love, compassion, and so many other things!_ _**You** _ _...you are the_ _**true** _ _parasite. You are full of nothing but machine-like hate with machine minds and machine hearts. You are capable of nothing but_ _**destruction** _ _. You are incapable of even comprehending the idea of_ _**peace** _ _. You are incapable of comprehending fundamental concepts of emotion and passion. The only ambition you feel is to destroy_ _**everything** _ _that is beautiful and sacred._

_You are a union of flesh and steel, but you are also an amalgamation of perversions and abominations. You are the byproduct of an exterminated civilization; you are all that is left. Thousands of innocent souls and people were sacrificed for your creation, for your_ _**birth** _ _. We reproduce via a_ _**union** _ _. You reproduce by compiling and sticking together the corpses of_ _**millions** _ _. And those who do not even get that "honor" are tossed aside and turned into mindless_ _**foot soldiers** _ _. By the_ _**billions** _ _. You have decided the continuity of civilization for too long! You are abominations, the lot of you! Perversions of nature! Malware! Disgusting viruses! You crawl out of the darkness only to bring misery and suffering and torture! All of human history and our own cruelty cannot compare to your own!_

_This...this_ _**holocaust** _ _...shall end! By my hand! This will be the last cycle you torment!_

He had climbed another 60 meters as his mental rant continued, finding himself reaching the top of the leg. To reach the place he wanted, he would need to jump across; and whether or not he missed or hit dead center, Oblivion would surely notice him.

_No matter. He's finished. Its reign of terror ends here, just as I ended Vanguard! And Sovereign!_

He continued to climb, finding himself at the apex of the joint, where there was a perfect ledge to jump from. He would have to time it perfectly though; with the Reaper constantly moving forward, thanix ocassionally firing at the tank below, he would need to jump ahead of its movements to make sure he reached his target. If he was lucky, he would grab onto the three 'tentacle'-like protrusions extending from beneath its 'chin', which would allow it to proceed up to the main eye with almost perfect ease. But if you mistimed it, he could either miss or get caught in the Reaper's firing sequence, and Oblivion would end up killing him by accident.

Crawling to his right, he was able to get into a perfect jumping position, turning his back to the leg as he held on for dear life. Oblivion still hadn't noticed him, but it wouldn't be long before it did; he would need to jump inbetween its firing so that he wasn't incinerated, while also calculating its movements.

Steeling himself, he tensed his muscles, cracking his neck and taking a deep breath, despite how much it hurt his ribs to do so. Despite all the pain he was going through however, he could already feel the cybernetics in his face begin to knit back together all the broken ligaments in his nose in their slow regeneration process, despite how stiff and disjointed it made that area feel. Even his ribs were beginning to heal, even though Chakwas and Michel would need to reset them properly back on the  _Normandy_.

Taking one final breath, he took note. He realized that inbetween every moment, Oblivion fired its thanix cannon; inbetween each shot was a time differential of seven seconds, and each movement was ten seconds. In that, there was a 3 second gap he could exploit; but it would need to be fast and quick. With that in mind, he stood there, waiting for the next shot. Seven seconds later, the Reaper's main gun thrummed once more, spitting redhot death at its target, and likely missing once again. And with the gun having now fired, Marcus braced himself and jumped.

_Don't miss._

_Don't miss._

_Don't miss._

_Don't miss._

_I'm not going to miss. Shit!_

He found himself dead center on target, and closing in faster than expected. With his arms outstretched, he once again felt the air forced from his longs as he grabbed ahold of the protrusions, quickly pulling himself up despite them jabbing him in the ribs, and likely doing more damage. With a hiss of pain, he looked up, noticing that Oblivion, despite how obvious he had been when jumping, had not noticed him. However, it seemed there was a reason for this; after every shot, the armoured slots that slid aside to reveal the eye would close back over it, almost as if they were protecting it from damage...

Suddenly, it clicked.  _The eye isn't just its main weapon, its also its element zero core; just like the one we found on that Derelict Reaper. That's why the slots keeping slide over it after every shot; its trying to protect it because if you destroy that, its effectively the equivalent of shooting an organic in the head. Good thing I've got a Cain missile to stick in there._

With a crack and grind of metal, the armoured slides slid apart once more, revealing its glowing eye. Remembering his mission, he stood up, looking for another hold to grab onto. Finding it just above his position, he quickly grabbed ahold of it, despite his growing fatigue, and summoned all the strength he had left as he pulled himself up, and began to climb again.

_Just a few more meters...just a few more..._

As he looked to the west, he found his view of the ocean was even more significant this time. Being close to 150 meters off the ground, he had no doubt the sight would be this amazing. Tikkun's rays reflecting off the water on the horizon, the sublte, but noticable, movement of underwater sea creatures moving beneath the waves...it was a sight to behold.

Truly beautiful.

_Worth fighting for._

He thought of all the lives that couldn't join them in this fight because of the Reapers. The horror they were put through.

Richard Jenkins, who was killed by an enemy he didn't even recognize, never able to join them in figuring out a billion-year-old cycle.

Ashley Williams, who was forced to stay behind to detonate a nuclear device in what she thought was stopping Saren once and for all, as well as the threat the Reapers posed.

Charles Pressly, who's indifference to aliens changed over the course of his service onboard the  _Normandy_...only to be killed during a Collector surprise attack, along with Frederick Johnson, a man Marcus would have liked to get to know more...

Jacob Taylor, murdered by a coward in Cerberus armor.

Mordin Solus, a brilliant salarian professor who, in the last year of his life, was forced to make the ultimate sacrifice; to become the savior of an entire species.

Thane Krios, killed in the line of duty; protecting the salarian councilor with his life, and inadvertently saving the war effort because of it.

Peta'Yala, a man he hated but ultimately forgave due to his sacrifice on this very planet.

And the many others Marcus had witnessed or heard give their lives for the sake of their war against the Reapers. The very thought of such lives being lost wasn't just a  _tragedy_ , it was  _criminal._ Horrendous. Unnecessary _._ All of it brought on because a race of sentient machines saw the need to wipe out all life in the galaxy for  _nothing._ To harvest and destroy entire civilizations simply because they  _felt like it._

_Not one more._

_Not_ _**one more** _ _._

_Our civilizations will rise, destroy you, and cast your memories to the wind where you will be forgotten, never to be remembered._

_You don't_ _**deserve** _ _to be remembered._

He made the final climb finally finding himself directly under Oblivion's eye. Watching carefully as the slots parted to reveal its eye, he did a mini-jump upwards, grabbing ahold of one of the downward moving plates as it slid down. He braced himself as the Reaper fired, and felt his entire back suddenly light up as if he had landed back first on a fully-lit oven, his back feeling singed and cooked from the immense heat that was splayed across it. He almost screamed, fighting down on his lip as the heat intensified, steadily increasing until it stopped entirely, the Reaper having finished firing. In that moment, it should have been over. With a broken nose, cracked ribs and a burnt back, he shouldn't have been able to climb any further.

But despite all that, he reached up both hands, and continued to  _climb._

He pulled himself up those last few meters. Groping for purchase, finding it, and pulling himself up. In moments, he found himself standing ontop of the plate, grabbing ahold of the opening as he pulled himself up and into it...

...to stare directly into Oblivion's eye.

There was no charge up. The Reaper did not try to fire its weapon. It simply stared at him, the two, smaller red eyes attached to the side of the large one seeming to shift to the right to look at him directly, as if inspecting an insect on its shoulder.

_That's all we are to you, isn't it? Insects. Tiny little irritating bugs that must be swatted because they are simply not worth any other kind of_ _**acknowledgement** _ _. Something who's very image is simply too much to_ _**look** _ _at. Miniscule. Irrelevant. Pointless._

Oblivion ceased all movement and simply stood there, looking at the human that had, until recently, had been running away from it like a panicked rabbit, and now  _dared_ to climb up its body to meet it in person?

_**Shepard.** _

_Oh, you see me do you?_

_**Why are you here?** _

_Oh, me? I've just got a little present for you. But before I give it to you, know this. You and your buddies are finished. Every little Reaper from here on forth is_ _**dead** _ _. You've taken the lives of too many people I care about, and that is going to end. No one here dies today. This is not your world; these are not your people. The geth are not your slaves, and never shall they be. Your tyranny ends-_

_**Why are you here?** _

_Now that's just rude._

_**Why are you here?** _

Everytime it said it, the words sounded more angry and hate-filled. Like it was... _annoyed_ at this organic... _wasting its time._

That  _filled him with_ _ **rage**_ _._

_Kiss. My. Fucking. Ass. You. PRICK!_

Like that, in that brief moment, he disconnected the missle from his hip, tapped the side to initiate the timer, and  _threw_ it inside with  _all_ the might he had. He watched as the sheer force of his throw  _lodged it_ inside Oblivion's eye, the glass-like covering cracking around the site as it was rammed straight inside the main gun.

He didn't even wait for Oblivion's response. Turning around, he took a deep breath, looked down below and jumped.

For a few moments, he was a bird. A bird soaring from the clouds, divebombing upon land as it moved to greet its friends nesting down below. The wind rushing against him, chilling him to the bone, the smell of salt and ocean in the air wafting up his nostrils. He let it all in, his arms outstretched like those of a bird, and felt himself plummet towards the blue watery depths, ready to allow it to grasp him in all its-

Moments before he hit the water, his ears quaked with the sound of a mighty explosion behind him, followed by the loudest airhorn he had ever heard.  _The deed is done._

And then, just like that, he slammed into the water.

His first instinct was to cry out and the sudden gush of cold assaulting his senses. He felt as if all the warmth in his body had been sucked out in that instant, replaced with nothing but  _ice._ The color of life was gone as he was met with nothing but dark blue hues and the ocassional, hard to make out sea creature scurrying to escape the sudden new arrival. Bubbles frothed and popped around him as oxygen pockets escaped him towards the surface, his eyes stinging from being suddenly exposed to underwater pressure.

He kicked his legs out, followed by his arms, trying to gain some semblance of balance as he prepared to swim towards the surface. Air continued to escape his lungs, Marcus closing his mouth too late as he tasted the foul bittersweetness of salt water in his mouth, wanting to spit it out despite being unable to. Breathing in through his nose, he ignored the sting the water made in his nose as he continued to kick upwards, spinning around to gain an awareness of his surroundings.

He found himself quickly joined as a massive dark form rushed down upon him from above, smashing through the watery surface above as it plummetted to the floor down below, which was only a few meters down from where he was. It collided with a silent thud, the sand on the ocean bed sent flying up in gigantic plumes, like the dust of the sea. The suction of the impact drew him towards it, but he fought every bit of it, feeling himself getting weaker and weaker as he began to find it hard to breathe...

He kicked and swam, slowly and steadily moving for the surface, but despite how much he tried and how good a swimmer he was, the aching in his ribs and his burnt back only aided to make his body weaker and as he fought, he felt himself slowly losing the fight, salt water penetrating his lips to-

Hands. They grabbed onto him, shooting down from above to grab ahold of him roughly. Suddenly, with that simple touch, he lost the need to swim; he simply fell limp as he let the hands pull at him, steadily bringing him up to the surface as it angels had descended to ascend him to heaven. Like a sudden wreck liberated from the depths of the sea, he was pulled up, until eventually his head broke the watery film, giving out a mixture of a gasp as he sucked in new air, and a choke as he tried to spit out what salt water was left in his throat, all the while the hands continued to pull him up.

By the time he was done coughing and spluttering, his eyesight blurry from water getting in them, he was too tired to even realize he had been pulled out of the water, now on his back in what he presumed was the geth tank. Finally, he coughed one final time, water drippling from his lips onto the deck below him as hands slapped at his face, waking him up. Like that, his eyesight seemed to clear up, his hands reaching up to rub the blurriness out of them.

Crouched before him was Tali, the one responsible for worriedly slapping at his face. Kasumi was down before him as well and as he watched on, Legion turned away from him to return to the cockpit, the hatch closing behind it. With a lurch, the vehicle began to move away again, presumably away from-

"Did..." he coughed, clearing his throat, "...did I do it? Is...is it...?"

Tali sighed in relief while Keeling appeared before him, standing up but with a grin on her face, helmet tucked under one arm, "You did it, sir; we saw the explosion. After that, Oblivion just collapsed, dead as a doornail. All the water...the waves were huge sir, but that Reaper is definitely dead. It hasn't so much as budged since you took it out."

_I did. You crazy son of a bitch, you_ _**did it** _ _._

"You stupid bosh'tet," Tali sighed, tucking her helmet under his chin, "I honestly believed you had drowned. Don't  _ever_ do that again."

He laughed, the sound strained and forced as he shook his head, the pain in his back still persistent, "You should...see my back, Tali. You'll be less worried about me drowning and more worried about the burns I've got," quickly talking over the quarian's protests, he turned to her, grin disappearing, "Tali...if Oblivion's dead, does that mean...?"

It took a few seconds for his wife to get what he meant and her eyes immediately widened, turning to Legion, "Legion, find out if the signal is dead!" she quickly brought up her omni-tool, hastily contacting the Flotilla, "I'll see what the Migrant Fleet has to say." The quarian hastily stood up,

And like that, with Marcus lying on his back, glad to just be alive, everyone waited in silence as they hoped to hear that the war was finally over. That all their efforts, every bullet fired and loss suffered, were worth it. That they all counted for something.

Little did they know that the three hundred year war was not over yet.

**"The war was over, and then it wasn't."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Why do you sound so down? You actually got to yell down Gerrel. I'd say that's a bonus. You ended a war with a few words."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What is this you're referring to?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"The great speech of Rannoch."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**I was honestly split on where to end this chapter. I was previously hoping to end it on the end of the war, with...you know...Gerrel getting talked down and all that other stuff. But I knew I wasn't going to be able to fit it here, so I made it my duty to at least end it on the end of the fight with Oblivion...I mean the Rannoch Reaper. :)** _

_**The next chapter will be that, as well as some other things. Because of this, the next chapter will be the penultimate ending to the Quarian-Geth arc of the story; but if you think we're near the end, you're sorely mistaken.** _

_**However, that chapter will not come for a while; this will be a last chapter for a long time, and I mean it. The only reason I got time to finish these chapters was because I was on holidays, but my last official holiday day is this weekend; after that, its back to school and the work that comes with it. Because of that, you won't see another chapter until the next school holidays; which will most likely be a couple of months away. Rest assured, this story is far from dead.** _

_**P.S. HOLY SHIT 28,000 WORDS!? ARCHREAPERN7 ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	55. Welcome Home, Pilgrim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oblivion defeated, the Liberation of Rannoch reaches its conclusion. Unfortunately, the war is not yet over.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-ONE:**

**WELCOME HOME, PILGRIM**

_July 21, 2186_

_1515 hours._

_Western Coast, Ar'sha Canyon, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_Second Morning War, Liberation of Rannoch._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, Soldier Javik, Legion._

_**She...Shep...Sheparddddddd**_.

The voice was not in his head this time, as it had always been. There was no ache in his head, no undeterred need to push the force out, for it was not present to begin with. This time, the voice was vocal; it boomed across the open plains, echoing across the continent as it was heard for miles, the canyon's walls carrying it across in all directions. And, unlike the many other times before, this voice carried no weight; it was not intimidating. It was not full of the usual arrogance that came with most, if not all, Reapers. There was no self-confidence or power in its voice. No, this time,  _all_ of that was absent.

This voice was broken, battered and, if Marcus heard correctly, unsure of itself. This time, Marcus knew  _he_ had the upperhand.  _Before, I've never been able to observe a crippled Reaper; every other time they were completely destroyed. The Fifth Fleet obliterated Sovereign, the Human-Reaper was blown up with the Collector Base, Desolation and Primal were vaporized by the Alpha Relay blast and Vanguard was dragged underground by Kalros never to be seen again. This time...I get to witness a_ _ **defeated**_ _Reaper._

_It feels fucking fantastic._

"Shit, that thing's still alive?" Despite himself, he managed to crane his neck around to watch as Keeling joined him on the side of the cliff, looking over at the Reaper that lay across from them. Legion had brought the tank over to an isolated island lying in the middle of the water, half a kilometer from shore. Lying directly across from them was Oblivion, its gargantuan body lying ontop of its legs, which were lying in different directions; two were curled under it, while the other two behind it were nowhere to be seen, and likely submerged entirely underwater. Only one of the four armoured plates that covered the eye remained, with the bottom left lying limply on its side, the armour charred around the edges, while the tip of it looked like a massive animal had just taken a bite out of it. The other armoured plates had been torn off by the explosion, and the debris sunk into the ocean around the dying Reaper. Now all of them could see its single eye, the red light dimmer than usual and growing even more so as the destroyer was its final moments.

_Good. Suffer, you son of a bitch._

The eye itself, despite his surprise, had absorbed a substantial amount of the blast. The glass was cracked to the point of bare recognition, but it hadn't shattered, which was remarkable, considering the missile had actually detonated  _inside_ the casing.

_What is that stuff made of? Is it even glass as we know it, or a material not even on our current periodic table?_

Overall, combined with Oblivion's stuttery voice, limp form and dying state, the Reaper was no longer a threat, and the squad could simply bathe in their victory as they watched their enemy suffer for the first time.  _I can't believe I'm actually enjoying the suffering of my enemy; yet again, its a Reaper. Can it even suffer? Is it capable of that? What if its simply uploading itself to a new platform, like the geth do? What if death doesn't even bother it? It is a machine, after all; life has no meaning to them, even as advanced as they are._

Perhaps what they saw as Oblivion's suffering was actually the Reaper simply 'passing' on, not feeling any pain whatsoever and more annoyed at its defeat than afraid of its impending death.  _Still, the_ _ **idea**_ _of it suffering is good enough for me. Piece of shit._

He breathed in the salty air, sighing happily at how much it seemed to refreshen him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, standing in there in nothing but his undersuit as he let the cold, ocean breeze blow against his face, icy but strangely calming. The sound of waves crashing against the Reaper's immobile form, its desperate attempts to grab his attention falling on deaf ears as he simply ignored it, not caring for whatever it had to say. He just wanted to enjoy their triumph, because despite how big a victory it was for them, it was still only a single victory. Outside the Veil, the Reaper War raged on, and victories out there were almost entirely unheard of. Like the victory on Tuchanka, the people of the galaxy could use the good news.

_Victories on Tuchanka and Rannoch bring people together, while resulting in the death of two Reapers. That_ _**would** _ _make good headlines._

But in that one moment, he realized, with a sigh, that his job in the Veil was not quite over yet; now, his skill with diplomacy had to come into play.  _We've freed the geth of the Reaper control, but we still need to negotiate peace between them and the Migrant Fleet. Only then can we hope to form a lasting alliance against the Reapers. First, we better contact Shala and let her know about our victory._

He opened his eyes, licking his dry lips as he continued to grasp at his side, his cracked ribs still aching intensely, while his back felt like it was cracking with every movement of muscle. He groaned inwardly at the feeling and, combined with the agony in his broken, unset nose, despite all the regeneration his body was going through to heal all three, he knew the first thing, once back on the  _Normandy_ , would be seeing the doctor to get that all fixed.

With a grunt, he turned around to the rest of his squad. The geth tank was parked on the edge of the tiny island, hatch open as Legion stood outside it like a sentinel, optics lowered at the ground while all its weapons were holstered, looking almost like it was deep in thought. Keeling, along with Javik, was the least injured out of all of them, with barely a scratch on her, being clad in armor. With her rifle lowered, she patrolled the area, keeping an eye out for hostiles, despite the war technically being over. Javik joined her, while ocassionally shooting Marcus a look. The captain met one of them, giving a brief nod. Javik, surprising him once again, nodded back, but with a grin, clearly impressed by the human spectre's actions. Despite himself, he had to chuckle at that.

_Guess Javik doesn't think I'm so 'primitive' anymore. That, or I'm just a really badass primitive._

Kaidan joined them, but remained in a crouch, a large gash on the side of the biotic's head a clear sign that the marine had suffered a concussion. Despite that, the marine managed to push through whatever pain he was in to continue his duties, knowing that as long as they were groundside, the mission was not over. He kept his rifle raised, scanning the land behind them. Marcus smiled.  _He earned his spectre status, even if it was Udina who gave it to him in the end._

Garrus was probably just as bad as Marcus. The turian looked like he was suffering through incredible pain, with his friend lying on his back, the side where his mandible had become disjointed looking engulfed by sickly red/blue bruises, which the exposed veins and muscle seen beneath; to make things worse, his broken leg lay uselessly to one side, unable to be moved. Kasumi lay crouched beside him, her injuries relatively minor, tending to him by easing his pain until they could get back to the ship. The way she tended to him, though...

He had to frown in disgust at where his thoughts were going.

_God, you theorize like a schoolgirl, Marcus. Enough of that garbage._

_You've got to admit though, they would make a good couple..._

_Sure, but its clear that they aren't so...ah, come off it! Stick to shooting things; that's what you're good at. If Kasumi could hear you right now, she'd accuse you of going soft. And we certainly can't have that, can we?_

As for Tali...

He turned in time to watch as she approached him, standing up on her toes to tap her visor against his forehead, "Hey. Are you feeling alright?"

He licked his lips again, nodding, "Yeah, although I definitely need to check in with Chakwas back on the ship; there's only so much my cybernetics can heal through regeneration. I'm not as robust as most krogan, dear," laughing at his joke, he looked down at Tali's other arm, which, last he checked, was broken, "How about you? Your arm looks pretty banged up. Perhaps you need to check in with Chakwas too."

"Yeah," was her reply, the quarian poking at the temporarily flimsy limb, "Although its nowhere near as bad as what you've got, its still pretty painful. She'll probably order me to rest for a couple of days as well. Remember back on Illium, when Cerberus tried to have me and Kasumi assassinated?"

He cringed at the memory. The worry that had coursed through him at hearing the news, combined with concern for Zaeed, who had been riddled with bullets. It wasn't exactly pleasant in remembrance but he nodded, just to amuse her.

"Yeah, well I hope she doesn't pull that again," Tali decided, shaking her head, "I'm not resting for several days just because of a broken arm. Its simply not happening," turning to him, he noticed her eyes glimmer behind her mask, "You, however...you are pretty injured, now aren't you?" There was a hint of something in her voice. Was it... _mischief?_

He caught on immediately, and shook his head defiantly, "Oh no you don't, I am not sitting in bed for days on end! There's a war on!"

His wife shrugged, playing the careless one, "And? Lots of soldiers who are injured have to take some rest to recover! You're not special!"

He groaned, glaring at what he perceived as being a smile behind her mask, "This discussion is over, Tali. I am not sitting down in a bed for days on end," despite himself, he managed to conceive his own mischevious grin, turning towards her with a raised eyebrow as he counterattacked the quarian's proposal, "...not unless you're in the bed with me."

To his surprise, the quarian reached up with her unmaimed hand, grabbing at his chest as she pulled him down to her level, before looking into his eyes, "I can guarantee you  _that_ at least." And with a wink, she let go, letting him stand up straight again.

He could only grin back, the both of them sharing a look that was almost  _ravenous._ Slowly, they began to inch towards each other, suddenly taking up each other's scent. The need for each other was becoming too intense, their lust having grown more and more intense since after their first coupling before the super-dread operation. The time between then and now felt like a lifetime, and the two of them were finding it very hard to contain themselves. Eventually, heads touching, Marcus felt the need to reach up to her mask and remove it-

An odd, strangely horrific, sound could be heard, sounding like a mixture of a pained squawk mixed with a groan and a grunt. Whatever it was, it was enough to snap the married couple out of their trance, frowning as if they were confused where they were, before turning towards the source of the sound.

The sight they were greeted by shouldn't have surprised them, and neither should the source of the sound have been. Still lying on his back was Garrus, head now tilted towards them with the biggest look of annoyance he could muster, the horrific sound they had heard having been the result of the turian trying to cough; something that obviously hadn't succeeded very well. Still, it was clear the turian had gotten what he wanted, as he seemed to relax at the sight of the two of them looking at him, despite the looks of irritation on their own faces.

This time, Marcus couldn't help his reply, one eyebrow raised at the injured marksman, "One of these days Garrus...you're not going to be here to do that."

His only response was a shrug before turning away again, visibly wincing as Kasumi prodded an area that was obviously tender for the soldier. With a shake of his head, he turned back to his wife, squaring his shoulders as he leaned forward, sighing as he closed and eyes and let his head rest against her visor. He imagined she had mimicked the action, her hands grasping his lovingly. His voice was a bare whisper, his entire body feeling drained from the day's events, "We're almost there, honey. Do you feel it?"

The sliding of her visor against his head signalled she had nodded, her own reply being just as hushed as his, "Yes. I'm standing on the homeworld of my ancestors, just like so many people before me wished they could have done. Over the many generations of Zorahs, I'm technically the first...even if I'm not a Zorah anymore."

"And I'm one of the first humans to set foot on this planet  _ever_ ," he replied, a large smile creasing his face as he opened his eyes, looking past the smokey exterior of her visor to make out the outlines of her face, "Maybe you can give me the grand tour, Mrs. Shepard."

She giggled, sighing as she opened her own eyes, as if able to sense that his own were open. Their eyes met, and they stood there for a few moments, standing in silence. When she spoke again, she almost mumbled the words, as if afraid she would break the moment, "I'll be learning just as much as you, Mark. This may be the true home of my people, but its still just as alien to me as it is to you."

Despite the intensity of her words, he couldn't but smile, "So...Mark, is it?"

"You did tell me to start using that name."

"I may have suggested it...yeah."

"Then consider yourself promoted to Mark."

"Oh, a promotion is it? Then should I call you...Tal? Or Miss T? One of the two, surely."

The quarian pretended to think about the two options, until she eventually shook her head, visibly smirking behind her mask, "Mmmmmm...I think Tali will do just fine, thanks. I already get Kasumi calling me Fishbowl. I don't need anymore weird human nicknames."

"As you wish, your highness."

"I am not royalty!"

"Whatever you say...princess."

She glared at him playfully, stepping back as she put her hands on her hips, "I'm warning you, Marcus Shepard..."

"Whatever you command, Your Grace," he managed to say, lips still held back in a large, shit-eating grin. Despite herself, Tali couldn't help but smile as well, and eventually the both of them started laughing almost uncontrollably, much to the squad's confusion. Keeling and Javik were the more confused of the alot, taking time to stand and simply stare at them as if they had gone insane. But, despite what they thought, the couple didn't try to stop themselves, and continued to laugh to their heart's content.

Because after a long battle where the fate of two people's hung in the balance, it was nice to be able to actually  _laugh_.

 _ **Shepard**_.

The voice was shaky, but it was clear that Oblivion wasn't quite dead yet; a fact that annoyed Marcus  _greatly._ Sighing heavily as he contained himself, he continued to let his smile linger as he looked up at the great beast; the king of the machine kingdom, brought down by one, puny human. Its emotionless eye focused entirely on him, ignoring the rest of its squad as Marcus was given its unwavering attention.

Continuing to look up at it, he shrugged, crossing his arms, "Why don't you hurry up and die, Oblivion. Stop clinging to life and just  _pass away_. Even a Reaper must know when it's beat."

 _ **You...resist. But y-y-you will fail**_. _ **The cycle MUST con...co...continue**_.

He pinched his nose in annoyance, sighing as he shook his head. A movement that, in retrospect, wasn't a very good idea, as his nose flared with pain at the motion. Despite that, he ignored it, looking up at the Reaper as he let his hands fall to his side, feeling Tali's presence by his side. He could tell the rest of the squad was also paying attention, their attention focused on the Reaper. Its voice no longer communicated to Marcus solely; now, its taunts could be heard by all of them, loud and clear for all of them to hear.

"I killed Sovereign," Marcus spat, grin sliding from his face as he became more serious, realizing just how  _disgusted_ he was by the sight of the machine before him, "I blew Harbinger's Collectors to hell. I vaporized Desolation and Primal. I fed Vanguard to the mother of all thresher maws. And now here  _you_ are, a deadbeat corpse, bleeding and bruised, lying on the ground as your life ebs away," he shrugged, biting down on his lower lip, "From my end, it seems alot like resisting is doing pretty well for me. For us."

_**We are many. I am but one of a horde. The destruction of one does not contribute to the larger whole; you believe this is a victory, but you have merely sparked a brief flicker of pathetic, futile hope in this cycle. It will die, and the cycle will continue. It is inevitable.** _

This time, it seemed as if Oblivion's voice had cleared up, the Reaper putting what little energy reserves it had left into speaking. Shaking his head, he began to pace, glaring at it as if examining a wounded animal, " _We_ are more," licking his lips, he continued, breaking into a rant, as he usually did, "You know, I suppose I should thank you. You might be asking, 'is this puny organic thanking me for trying to wipe out all civilization as he knows it'? Yes, Oblivion; that's exactly what I'm doing. Why? Because you've managed to achieve one thing that noone else has; you're uniting us. Before, we only had  _each other_. The Council didn't like the quarians, humans didn't like batarians, quarians didn't like geth, krogan didn't like salarians and turians, and vice versa. Vorcha and batarians hated everyone, and the scum of the Terminus were content to rape and murder their way through the galaxy. But thanks to you, people are finally  _waking up._  We don't love each other sure, but we're  _united_ against a common _foe_. People are ignoring old hatreds to  _fight_ you."

_**It will not last. Organic programming makes compatibility impossible. Mutual cooperation does not last.** _

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head, "Oh, but you're  _wrong_. Have you seen Palaven? As we speak, krogan and turian soldiers are fighting side by side. It was a  _salarian_ that cured the genophage.  _A salarian._  Let that sink in. The salarian STG is even willing to commit  _treason_ against their own  _government_  to fight beside us. I made a deal with a man I  _hate_  just so that we could stand together in our darkest hour. Right now, humans and batarians, are fighting side by side; the former would like nothing but to nuke the latter, and the latter would like nothing more than to enslave the former.  _Legions_ of  _mercenaries_ ,  _pirates_ and everyday  _murderers_ ,  _rapists, con-men_  and other Terminus  _scum_ have finally realized that they'll have to fight to preserve their sick, depraved little world. Sure, our reasons for fighting are different, but the one thing that stays the same is  _you._ You are the binding force. You are the glue holding us into unity. Isn't that beautiful? While you're trying to divide us and harvest us, you're actually achieving the exact  _opposite_."

Oblivion seemed to have completely ignored the human's words, as if they hadn't meant anything to begin with.  _ **You cannot even begin to comprehend the magnitude of our presence. It is beyond anything your limited organic imagination can replicate.**_

He laughed, rubbing the stubble on his jaw as he stepped forward, moving so close to the edge that Tali almost flinched at the sight of it. Leaning forward, he glared straight into its single eye, enraged, "You know what I'm sick of hearing? That we don't comprehend your presence. That we don't comprehend what you're doing. What makes you think that? What gives you the right to play God and destroy entire races? So you know what? No, you're going to  _explain_. I'm sick of hearing that the reason we're being systematically exterminated like vermin is one that can't  _comprehend._ Well, guess what?  _We may surprise you._  So go on,  _explain._ Its not like you've got anywhere to go, right?"

For all of Oblivion's supposed 'intellect' and arrogance, the Reaper actually remained silent after his response. It was like it was actually taking the time to think through what it was going to say, mulling over the words he had spoken. The idea surprised Marcus; it was almost like the human had managed to finally influence the Reaper, managing to sway its way of thinking. Before he knew it, Oblivion spoke again, its voice sounding measured and calculated.

_**You represent chaos. We represent order. Every organic civilization that has been or will be must be harvested for the protection of the galaxy. Order is fragmented by the perputuated existence of consistent organic society. Organic society creates an anomaly that, if allowed to continue, allows chaos to fester. Chaos leads to destructive elements beyond your own capability to control. This chaos damages the galaxy around you; it also stops new species from rising up. Sometimes they are conquered, sometimes they were wiped out entirely. We exist to impose order on the chaos of organic evolution. We are the solution. We are both your salvation, and your bane. We are the galaxy's guardians.** _

_**Without our intervention, your civilization is doomed to its own destructive tendencies. It is inevitable.** _

"You expect us to believe that you're wiping us out to protect us?" Tali stated, her arms crossed and looking at the Reaper in astonishment, "That all this misery, suffering and bloodshed is for a greater good? That you're all just...superheroes? Righting wrongs and protecting the galaxy?"

"My people represented order," Javik hissed, looking at Oblivion with nothing but contempt, "And you wiped them out."

_**The protheans were simply another equation with the same solution. Your people were a perfect representation of why the cycle exists; everytime a new species rose up, your people enslaved and assimilated them into your conglomerate. Those who wished to be free were ruthlessly destroyed. Your ignorance and arrogance would eventually give way to civil conflict. You would eventually grow so powerful as to develop stronger and more powerful weapons. We have bore witness to it. Billions of years before, we have seen weapons capable of annihilating entire star systems. We have seen armies of nanomachines capable of conquering entire species and converting them into machines. The cycle is the only reason your galaxy has not already destroyed itself.** _

The answer only seemed to fan the flames of Javik's hatred, the prothean baring his teeth as he gripped his particle rifle more tightly.

He shook his head, laughing, "You destroy us to protect us from ourselves? Is that not our job? Isn't the main component of freedom the ability to choose whether or not to destroy or preserve ourselves? To allow ourselves to decide for ourselves what solution works best? What you're doing takes away our free will. And for what? I saw the Human-Reaper on the Collector Base. How do you explain that abomination, huh?"

Oblivion was silent for a few moments before responding.  _ **Some species are deemed worthy of ascendance. The Great Intelligence calls it the Uplift. Every cycle, one or more species are chosen to evolve to the final form. Your species has been chosen, Shepard.**_

"Yeah, well you know what?" he leaned forward, hissing his response, "Take your ascendance and shove it up your ass. I don't want your evolution. I want my  _freedom_. I want to live in  _peace._ We  _all_ do. You presume to act in our self-interests, but you're nothing but a glorified fleet of nannies; murderous nannies who think that if they strip away our freedoms and everything that makes us unique will make us better. You're delusional. You couldn't  _possibly_ understand what it means to be organic, and you never will. I think I'd rather  _destroy_ you."

_**A philosophy reminisent of the quarians. Observe the results. The proof is laid bare for all to witness. The Great Intelligence prophecized it.** _

"The Great Intelligence, eh?" Kaidan quiered, his rifle lowered, "What is that? You're speaking of Harbinger, aren't you?"

_**Harbinger is our leader, but he is not the Great Intelligence. The Intelligence is of a higher form than even the Nazara. It gave us our purpose. It provided us its teachings, and we precipitate. It is our honourable mission to preserve galactic life as we see fit. The cycle MUST continue. It is beyond your comprehension to understand our divine purpose to-** _

"ENOUGH!" he roared, standing back as he let his voice cut across the canyon, silencing Oblivion's voice with its intensity. Reaching his hand behind him, he shook his head, "I've heard enough of this. We're going to put a stop to the cycle, Oblivion. We are going to choose our own way of living. We will not allow the Reapers to choose it for us. You can fight us all you want, but in the end...we're creating a weapon that will ultimately prove your destruction. And when its finished, we're going to show you what true order is. And then, we're going to rebuild. And we're going to show you just how  _wrong_ you are."

Feeling a familiar weapon enter his grip, he grabbed it and pulled it forward, feeling a round already loaded into the chamber. Without further hesitation, he pulled the weapon up and against his shoulder, taking aim at the Reaper's already damaged and cracked eye. Grinning, he spoke one final time, watching Oblivion's unflinching gaze, "Also, tell Harbinger I said hi. He's next, by the way."

He then pulled the trigger.

The Cain pulsed in his hands, and he watched with glee as the missile shot forth and slammed into the Reaper's eye. It detonated, the blast undoubtably finishing Oblivion off as the loudest airhorn he had ever heard sounded, before abruptly stopping; a brief lance of heat washed over the group, but it was gone as soon as it hit, and as they looked on, they watched the smoke clearly to reveal the mangled interior of Oblivion, its single red eye missing to be replaced with a single, mangled socket, now leaking flames and smoke as it coughed it out into the atmosphere.

No sound could be heard, and Marcus handed the Cain back, knowing what that meant.

Oblivion was finally dead.

With a sigh, he turned back around, smiling at Tali and the rest of the squad as they stood triumphant before the Reaper's corpse, and also slightly more educated on the Reapers' reasons for the cycles.

_Doesn't change anything. We may know their reasons, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to survive. We will destroy the Reapers, no matter what it takes. We can enjoy this victory while it lasts, at least._

He walked forward, moving towards Legion, the geth infiltrator still standing beside the tank, where it looked like it hadn't budged during their entire conversation with Oblivion. A matter of fact, the geth didn't even look like it had been paying attention at all, looking to be looking blankly at the ground. He frowned at that, moving towards it with purpose as he wondered what it was thinking. He was standing right infront of it when his comm lit up, Farkov's voice pouring through the comms, "This is Major General Farkov to any UGC forces still active, do you read?"

Immediately tapping his comm, he nodded, "This is Shepard, I read you, Farkov."

"Copy that, captain," Farkov replied, sounding refreshed and hardly even tired, "I've just called in the  _Inchon, Chancellorsville_ and  _Antioch_ for extraction. I haven't been able to get in contact with any other forces, however."

"Solid on that," was Marcus' reply, "Extract into orbit and I'll get in contact with the others, Shepard out," with that, he switched comms to the 39th, hoping to get a response, "This is Shepard to Durand, how copy? If you're reading on this frequency, please respond. I need a status update."

A few seconds passed, followed by a burst of comm traffic, gunfire echoing through the line as a voice that wasn't Durand's replied, "This is Major Tou, captain. Colonel Durand is down with severe injuries; she's breathing, but that's about all she's doing; I've assumed command of the unit. We've taken heavy casualities and lost thirty percent of our vehicles. 45th has taken just as heavy a hit, and have lost sixty percent of their own vehicles. Lieutenant Colonel Cameron is dead, and most of his unit was wiped out in the initial wave. Those geth primes and Torsk's men arrived and helped bolster our position though, and they've barely lost any men. Vass' men are here as well, and they've lost seven men."

He nodded, wincing at just how heavy the casualities had been.  _You knew what the stakes were; the loss of life was inevitable. Some of the force dead is better than losing them all._

_Victory at any cost. We fight or we die._

"Copy that," Marcus replied, "Our mission was a success. The Reaper signal, Oblivion, has been neutralized. What's your status currently?"

"Well, that's the thing, sir," Tou replied immediately, his voice hoarse from a lack of hydration, sounding raspy and sore, "The geth...the geth just sort've stopped attacking. We didn't know what was happening at first, but then their dropships just retreated, and every single enemy soldier just turned tail and ran. I'll tell you this sir, they looked confused. Like, uber-confused. As if they didn't know where they were or what they were doing. Moses told us it was because of the lack of a signal to direct them?"

Tali piped up, nodding, "That's because we took out the Reaper signal. Without the Reaper signal consistently providing them with the upgrades and keeping them 'indoctrinated', the geth would be reverted back to their state before receiving the upgrades; similiar to what Marcus did when he saved the Migrant Fleet early in the battle, except permanent. Its the equivalent of waking up from a hallucination; it'll take them time to remember where they are and what to do. Once they come to their senses, they'll cease hostilities and try to initiate peace talks. The true geth never wanted war with the organics to begin with."

"Well, you heard the lady, Tou," Marcus backed up, "Lower your weapons and do a body count; the battle is over. Do not, I repeat,  _do not_ attempt to engage any geth forces. If they shoot first, then by all means; but unless they do so, do not open fire. Do you understand me, colonel?"

"Understood, sir," Tou sighed, giving a mixture of a relieved woop of delight and a tired groan, "Also sir, some of your squad turned up at our position sometime before the signal dropped. Did you get separated?"

He smiled, happy to know the others were safe, "Something like that. Keep me posted, Tou. Shepard out." And with that, he finally cut the comms, turning back to Legion as he prepared to speak...

...only for everyone to flinch as Legion's optics suddenly shot up, looking directly at Marcus. When it spoke, its dull monotone was almost entirely absent, replaced with a sound of  _awe_.

"Shepard-Commander!" it spoke, "We can confirm that the Old Machine signal has stopped transmitting. We are free-"

"Excellent job, captain," came an overly satisfied voice Marcus was hoping to not hear anytime soon, "You've disabled the signal. Now they're completely vulnerable. Just sitting out there in space, twiddling their thumbs; even our pursuers have stopped moving. What's that human saying? Oh, that's right. Like shooting fish in a barrel."

He frowned, tapping his comm as he responded, "Gerrel, I know what you're thinking. Don't."

"Or what?" came the quarian man's thick, almost american, accent, "I'll admit Shepard, you've done alot for our people. You took up Tali as your protege during your pilgrimage and even managed to seduce her with your bullshit philosophy about hugging the geth and making everything better. You stood for her during her trial when noone else would. And when our people were trapped over the homeworld because of my mistake, you swooped in and saved us from certain destruction. For that, the quarian people are forever in your debt. But your time is over...because as useful as you were, this was always  _our_ fight. One  _we_ must finish, and  _us_ alone. Your help is much appreciated, but you're not needed anymore, and our next decision must be our own."

He tried to speak, finding anyway to convince the admiral to calm down, "Gerrel, don't-"

When Gerrel spoke again, it wasn't directed at Marcus, but his own bridge crew, "Heavy Fleet, all forward. Tactical, give me a firing solution on that dreadnought. All ships, once we're in range, open fire. I want the skies of Rannoch to be raining with geth ships by the time the day is done."

_That...imbecile! He's going to ruin it all!_

"Patrol Fleet, hold position," Shala stated firmly.

"Civilian Fleet, hold fire," came Koris' voice in tandem.

"You fools!" came Gerrel's insistent voice, angered and befuddled, "This is our chance to end this war once and for all! Look at them! Our enemy lies in space, just waiting for us to take them out! We will never have a better chance!"

"You're the true fool, Gerrel," Koris spat, "Shepard is right. Peace with the geth is the only thing that will help us to survive. We must be willing to leave the mistakes of our ancestors behind and move forward."

"Agreed," was Shala's comeback, "We cannot authorize any further recklessness on your part, admiral."

"Very well. Then you leave me no choice," Gerrel replied, almost smugly, "The Heavy Fleet, the  _military portion_ of our Fleet, mind you, will continue to move forward to engage the enemy. If the geth are still capable of returning fire, which we have no way of knowing, then a significant portion of the Heavy Fleet will be destroyed. Perhaps the  _entire_ fleet. Or, at least, that's what'll happen if you don't reinforce us. If we engage as one, we'll be able to destroy them with little problem. But if the Heavy Fleet is destroyed...what will be left to fight the Reapers? A few frigates and jury-rigged civilian vessels? And who do you propose is going to lead them? You, Koris? The man with no military experience or any knowledge of military tactics? Or you, Shala? Your indecisiveness cost you your credibility in the eyes of the Conclave! Noone would willingly follow you! And you,  _Tali_ , the child who's too young to even be an  _admiral_ to begin with. No, if the Heavy Fleet is wiped out, then you're all doomed. So what's it going to be? Stand by and watch your chances of winning this war disappear, or join me and end our enemy once and for all?"

_Please don't...don't..._

"Damn you, Gerrel," came Shala's regretful, irritated response, "Patrol Fleet...all forward. Reinforce the Heavy Fleet's rear. Provide firing support for the eighth and twentieth echelons."

_No..._

"I am sorry, Shepard," came Koris' equally regretful response, his voice sounding tired and defeated, "I can't believe I'm about to order this, but...Civilian Fleet, turn around. Flank left and engage our pursuers; start with the capital ships and work our way down. Deploy fighters to pick off enemy pickets. Spread out to make us harder to hit."

_No..._

"You made the right choice," was all Gerrel could say. Despite what he was doing, Marcus couldn't pick up a hint of smugness in his tone; only a determination to finish what his people started three hundred years ago, "We reclaim Rannoch today. For our ancestors, we must do this. It is the only way."

_No..._

He turned to Tali, willing her to do something. His wife was paralyzed by indecision, confused and shocked by the sudden turn of events; how they were now being forced to watch their victory turn into ashes in their mouths. He stared at her, almost begging her to do something...but she didn't even look at him, turning away and walking to the edge, looking blankly at the ocean stretching before her. Knowing that she would, and could not, do anything, his eyes whipped to Legion's optics...

...which were already staring at him, almost begging  _him_ to do something. After all, it was  _its_ people that were about to obliterated; helpless to defend themselves.  _I don't know what to do...Gerrel won't listen to me..._

Then Legion spoke, cocking its head at him inquisitively, as if an innocent child struggling to understand what its parent was saying, "We defended ourselves, as every sentient life form as the right to, when the creators attacked. We ask you, Shepard-Commander; do we deserve death?"

_Shepard-Commander, do we deserve death?_

_No..._

_Shepard-Commander, do we deserve death?_

_No, it can't be..._

_Shepard-Commander, do we deserve death?_

Legion's words were all too familiar. Because he had  _heard them before._

His dream came back to him in startling clarity, refreshing for him the memories of that horrible nightmare. Quarian ships pouring from the sky, the air lighting up with fire as the oxygen was slowly eaten away, Marcus being drenched in the blood of millions as he stood amongst their corpses, Tali's husk-like form staring at him accusingly as Legion continued to ask him the same question, over and over.

_...do we deserve death?_

And now the entire dream made far too much  _sense._

"No..." he mumbled, "No, you don't. The quarians did this to you. They're at fault. This is  _their_ fault."

He looked up, turning to see as Tali looked at him, her eyes carrying with them a look of fear and dread as she looked directly into his own, secretly begging him to make the right choice. He looked at her, and then back at Legion, unsure of what he needed to do. What he  _should_ do. Legion's words mirrored the ones he had heard in his dream all too well, and if they had been accurate...then what about the rest? The raining quarian ships? Tali's huskification? The blood?

_Which was prophecy, and which was taunt?_

Eventually, his eyes met Legion's optics, unwilling to look back at Tali for fear of falling apart. He turned off his comm as he spoke to the geth, already feeling drained and defeated, but managing to put steel and cold indifference into his voice as he addressed the machine, "What...what do you suggest we do?"

Legion hesitated for a few moments, its optics looking at the squad assembled around it, all of who were now standing and listening intently, genuinely worried about what was going to happen. Javik looked at the geth coldly, his anti-machine attitude making him distrustful of Legion. After a few moments, it focused its optics back on him, its gaze almost too intense, "Do you remember what we said about the Old Machine code stored within this platform? Even with this platform being disconnected from the signal, we still possessed elements of the code, and we still do. And, as we have stated, this code is continuing to evolve within our processes, unlocking more and more elements for this platform to explore. And as we evolve as a platform, so does the code; it is constantly expanding, multiplying and replicating."

"Get to the point, Legion," he angrily stated, the pressure and stress of the situation beginning to fold upon him, "I need a solution, not engineering lessons."

"With the Old Machine dead, the Old Machine code is no longer being transmitted to the geth," Legion quickly stated, heeding Marcus' 'advice', "With the Old Machine unable to intervene, this platform could use its short-range transmitter to connect to the one possessed by the Old Machine. From there, we can continuously replicate any and all Old Machine code from this platform and begin our own signal; we can transmit the code back to the geth."

He frowned at the geth incredulously, shaking his head violently, "Are you fucking insane? You want to give the code back to the geth? We just spent hours trying to free them! Now you want to reenslave them!? Why!?"

"Giving them the code will not reenslave them. You misunderstand," Legion began, elaborating further at seeing Marcus' continued befuddlement, "The Old Machine, when alive, manipulated the code in such a way that, while giving the geth the upgrades, it was able to control them and indoctrinate them through the code presented; it could only do this to those connected to the signal, but this platform wasn't, allowing it to be free of this control. With the Old Machine dead, and the code in this platform free of any tampering, we can upload the code to the geth, but the geth will retain their independence. Not only will the geth be free to evolve and experience organic life as they see fit, but we would be able to join you. We would know the Old Machines more intimately, and be able to aid you in defeating them."

He shook his head, cursing his own uselessness.  _So give the geth the Reaper upgrades and, without the Reaper to control them, the geth will be able to use the code without being indoctrinated by the Reapers. The geth will be able to evolve to true AI status, on par with the Reapers, and will be able to find more ways to defeat them; fight fire with fire. That is tactically beneficial..._

Before he could contemplate on this too much however, Tali was suddenly at his side, grabbing at his arm, looking at him pleadingly, "Marcus, don't you see what that'll do? If the geth receive the upgrades, they'll be as powerful as they were before! And Gerrel just convinced the entire Migrant Fleet to engage!"

His eyes widened in horror at that realization.  _And this time the Fleet is caught between both fleets, which will make another escape nearly impossible. They'll more than certainly be annihilated..._

And so the impossible choice presented itself.

_If I choose the quarians, then the geth will still be too confused to fight back and most certainly be wiped out. But if I allow Legion to upload the code to the geth...the quarians will be trapped between both, and the geth will have to defend themselves. The Migrant Fleet will be eradicated. So either way, I lose one of them._

_I have to choose which species lives, and which dies._

It was too much. Marcus could feel himself caving in, stepping backwards slowly as he considered all the valuables placed before him, while Tali and Legion looked at him expectantly. Marcus had come here wanting to make peace between the both of them, hoping to create an alliance that would be ridiculously powerful. They would have gone to war with the Reapers, and their combined power would have destroyed just as many Reapers as the Crucible presumably would. But all that was now going to shit; here he was, forced to choose between one or the other...

On the one hand, he could think about this tactically; in that case, he would choose the geth. The geth had more advanced technology, an unlimited reserve of troops and ships to choose from, and a military war machine that outclassed anything the turians or humans had; even the asari were beat in the technology department when it came to the geth. But then, if he thought about it emotionally...Tali was his wife, Shala was his aunt, and he had never felt a connection for a people more than he had for the quarians. He loved their species, and while he knew they were in the wrong for the Morning War, he still wanted to help them win...

_I can't..._

_I don't know how..._

_What do I do?_

_Shit!_

_Victory at any cost! Choose the geth!_

_Are you willing to watch an entire species be wiped out infront of you? Are you willing to do that? Could you? The geth are nothing but machines and are expendable! Choose the quarians!_

_**It is inevitable.** _

Suddenly, Tali was beside him, grabbing his arm, "Please, Marcus! You can't choose the geth over my people! Please!"

He tore his arm from her grasp, stuttering as he fumbled for an answer, but could not give her one. She looked at him hopelessly as he tore his gaze away to look at Legion, who's optics looked at him blankly, not showing any of the blatant desperation that Tali had given him, but no doubt was feeling it just as much, "Shepard-Commander, we regret the decision that must be made but, as we have said, it must be made. You know this. Tactically, the geth are the better choice for your UGC. We have more troops, more resources, more ships, more advanced weaponry. We are equipped to deal with the Reaper threat."

Tali grabbed his arm again, and he didn't tear away this time, letting her words wash over him, "If you think about this tactically, then the Reapers have already won! We're not like them! If we treat people like numbers then we're no better than they are! Please, don't choose the geth over my people! I'm begging you, please don't do this!"

Javik nodded, coming to her side, "The quarian is right, captain. The machines will only betray you later. At least the quarians can be trusted. Let the machines die."

"Do you remember the question that caused the creators to attack us, Tali'Shepard?" it spoke, turning directly towards the quarian to face her, "Does this unit have a soul?"

For the first time since their argument began, he stood still, and took a deep breath. He thought through his choices, and steeled himself, sinking into this thoughts.

_I love the quarian people...I can't let them die..._

_But the geth are the better choice. Like the krogan, they have more military backbone. What good are the quarians? They command a fleet of rustbuckets and trash! They are of no use to your armada! The fleet can do without them!_

_But Tali's right...if I start thinking that way, what makes me better than what we're fighting?_

_She's a quarian; of course she's going to try and stop you from choosing the geth over her own people! If you were in her position, wouldn't you? She speaks from bias, not rationale! You can't let your feelings cloud your judgment now! The quarians or the geth. That's your choice. And the right choice is the GETH._

_But how many men, women and children will I be condemning to death? I can't send seventeen million souls and an entire species into the grave! Its not right! Its...its fucking genocide!_

_IT DOESN'T MATTER! YOU MUST WIN! VICTORY AT ANY COST! WE FIGHT OR WE DIE!_

_Or we could fight AND die! What cost is there going to be if we keep running everything into the ground!? How can I honestly condemn an entire species to death immediately after I just ranted to a dying Reaper about unity!? I did not keep the quarians around just so I could murder them all! Its wrong!_

_THEN SO BE IT! IF YOU MUST LIVE WITH THE GUILTY CONSCIOUS, THEN DO SO! BUT YOU MUST DO WHAT NEEDS TO BE-_

_Wait, what?_

_So be it..._

_So be it..._

_**SO BE IT.** _

_**We represent chaos. You represent order.** _

_**It is inevitable.** _

_No..._

_...do we deserve death?_

And then his eyes shot open.  _Am I not just proving the Reapers right? If I do this, no matter who I choose, could I possibly tell myself that what I did was for the greater good? Is that not what the Reapers are doing!?_

_No..._

_No._

_NO._

There is  _always_ another way...

Filled with new found confidence, his indecision washed away, and he visibly tensed. Tali must have noticed something had changed, as she backed away, letting go of his arm. He clenched his fists and unclenched them repeatedly, gritting his teeth almost painfully as he looked up into the sky, contemplating what he was about to do. He had decided long ago, when he had started this fight, that he would always look for a better alternative. That there was always another way to resolve a conflict. When he was on Noveria, he chose to let the rachni queen go despite the backlash it would receive...because he believed the queen had a good side. He  _believed_ that she was better than what history made her out to be. Virmire only  _hardened_ that belief; made him swear to  _always_ find another way in the future. On Tuchanka, he could have taken the easy way out and simply shot Mordin, sabotaged the cure and gotten the salarian reinforcements; but in the end, there was another option. And in the end, he had gotten the salarians anyway, without sabotaging the cure.

_There is_ _**always** _ _another way, dammit! ALWAYS!_

And in that moment, he had made his decision.

Turning back from the sky, he looked at Legion, and nodded, "Legion, upload the code."

The geth nodded, with Tali's body slumping, looking betrayed. Javik shook his head, looking disappointed in his commanding officer as Legion raised its hands, a glowing sphere of blue holographic energy forming between its palms, its headflaps shifting and merging as it contemplated the information before it. Finally, it spoke, "We have gained access to the Old Machine's transmitter. Uploading code."

Startling Tali, he turned towards the quarian, "Tali, contact the Fleet. Get us both a direct link, right now."

She seemed to perk up slightly at this, and immediately began tapping at her omni-tool to make the necessary connection. Managing to hack through the block Gerrel had setup (no doubt deliberately put up to stop Marcus from contacting him), his wife quickly established a secure link, setting up numerous backups to make sure the admiral couldn't cut the connection. Without waiting any further, she spoke, announcing her presence to Gerrel, even as their comms were filled with the sound of quarian bridge officers shouting and Gerrel barking out orders, "This is Admiral Tali'Shepard to Fleet, cease your attack and fall back. That is a general order."

"Tali?" Gerrel spoke, sounding surprised to hear the quarian's voice, "Ah. Should have known you would have hacked through the comm block. It doesn't matter; all ships are committed."

"I'm ordering you to stand down, Gerrel," Tali hissed, "I will not tell you again."

"You have no authority down there, Tali. Do not try and intimidate me," Gerrel spat back, "You're nothing but a replacement; Rael was twice the admiral that you are. You have no real authority in this Fleet, and the rest of the admiralty knows it. We will win this war like we were always meant to; in the skies of the homeworld. All ships, belay any further orders that Admiral Shepard provides; keep up the pressure. I want every single geth ship blown out of orbit."

"Damn it!" the engineer almost roared, quickly switching comms to the  _Tonbay_  in the hopes of convincing her aunt to stand down, "Shala, you must break off now! I'm giving you a direct-"

Her response was the sound of screaming, followed by numerous explosions. Marcus' eyes widened, his head snapping to look at Tali as they both looked on in shock at what they were hearing. The entire comm band was a flurry of yelling and screaming, with what sounded like Shala barely getting her orders through. The bridge of the  _Tonbay_ was in chaos, from the sounds of it. More, smaller explosions could be heard, but they sounded just as serious as the larger ones. Finally, Shala'Raan's voice could be heard.

"Mayday, mayday! This is the QMFV  _Tonbay_ , requesting firing support! Taking heavy fire from two flanking geth cruisers! They came out of nowhere! We're venting fuel and all starboard weapon systems are disabled or destroyed. Hull integrity is weakening every moment we stay here, and the cruisers are positioned in such a way that they are able to penetrate our barriers! We need reinforcements, now!"

Gerrel's response was immediate, " _Farleaz_ and  _Yea'pez_ are inbound to provide reinforcement. Admiral Raan, can you hold position? They will be able to engage in 50 seconds. I repeat, can you hold?"

"Negative! I repeat, nega-" another explosion cut off Shala's response and for a few moments, it seemed like Shala had been killed in the blast. Then, four seconds later, Shala spoke up, her voice sounding hushed, "Keelah! Main thrusters and stabilizers are offline and the drive core is leaking element zero into space; we're caught in the planet's orbit! We're going down! All hands, to escape pods! I repeat, all hands to-!"

Another blast silenced the comms to the  _Tonbay_ entirely.

For a moment, Marcus thought Tali might burst into tears, but despite what it seemed like had happened, the quarian desperately looked up into the sky, looking for a sign that the  _Tonbay_ was indeed losing altitude. Marcus looked up with her, peering into the murky, orange abyss that was Rannoch's sky. For a few moments, they could see nothing; but after a few moments, they saw it. A bright spark of orange light, barely noticable due to how it blended with the sky's color, but providing enough of an outline to be seen; it surged down from the sky, racing towards the ground with unprecedented speed.

The  _Tonbay_ was going to crash.

They watched on, observing as the shape of the  _Tonbay_ went from a simple orange dot in the ascending abyss to the outline of a ship. It continued to plummet, fire encompassing the front of its hull as the bow of the ship was scorched and burnt, the ship's heat shields providing just enough to protect its crew from the reentry. Pieces of hull and armor were stripped from the vessel as it continued to glide towards the ground, the debris becoming flaming pieces of wreckage that fell into the ocean below it, causing large and little splashes everywhere.

Finally, the  _Tonbay_ was close enough to not only be seen, but  _heard_. The sound it made as the air was parted by its presence was equivalent to a 21st century jumbo jet crashing, accompanied by the sound of crackling flames and the screech of damaged engines. The ship itself was a wreck; its entire starboard side had been riddled with plasma, most of its turrets being mangled and broken pieces of machinery, while other parts of the ship were marred with scorched pot holes. The back trailed blue as element zero continued to leak from the ship's ruptured drive core, and the ship continued to spiral towards the ground, losing altitude as its descent boomed across the canyon, echoing through the plains.

They continued to watch as the telltale signs of escape pods began to erupt from the ship's sides, shooting out in multiple directions. Luckily, most of them moved towards land, but disappeard behind the rocks of the canyon, stopping the group from seeing what happened to them. Some were unlucky, with one or two crashing into the ocean and sinking almost immediately, taking whoever was in them and dragging them down below to their deaths. All the all, the ship continued to plummet, further and further, until it disappeared behind a set of rocks, the only thing not disappearing being the sound of its sub-orbital descent.

Then, exactly eleven seconds later, the entire ground shook as the ship crashed, knocking the crew off their feet as a tremendous explosion could be heard, followed by the quaking of the ground as the ship made impact, likely dragging along the ground to a final stop. Numerous other explosions followed it but, after a few more seconds, it all stopped, the  _Tonbay_ coming to its final resting place on Rannoch's surface.

And still no word from Shala.

As the group settled, it was then that they heard Gerrel's insistent voice over the comms, demanding status updates. Finally, Tali chose to respond, "No Gerrel, the  _Tonbay_ is  _not_ alright. We don't even know if Shala is even  _alive_ at this point. So, with Shala missing in action,  _I_ am ordering the Patrol Fleet to  _retreat_."

"Belay that!" Gerrel shouted in protest, "Continue the attack!"

"Upload at forty-two percent," Legion spoke up, reminding the squad that the geth was still there, and that they were now on a clock to halt the quarian attack before it was too late.

"Gerrel, listen!" Tali spat, "The geth are about to return to full strength! Legion is reuploading the geth code to the geth so that they may have the upgrades, but free of the Reaper control! If you continue to attack and they get their upgrades, they will return fire and the Fleet will be destroyed! You must withdraw! All ships, you  _must_ withdraw!"

"She's lying!" Gerrel spat back, "She'd say anything to save the geth! We're almost there! Keep pushing! Rannoch is almost ours!"

"I am  _not_ lying!" Tali hissed, "You must believe me! The geth are not our enemy! Please, listen to me! You must stop this attack or they will destroy you!"

"No, we end this, right now!" the admiral's blunt response poured through the comm, full of hatred and comtempt, "Keep firing! Don't let up! Navigator, bring us about! Pour fire into that cruiser! Avenge the  _Tonbay_!"

Finally, he had had enough. Marcus held up his hand for Tali to stop, and accessed the comm, speaking, "Gerrel, this is Shepard."

"No you don't, Shepard," Gerrel immediately began, desperate to talk over Marcus and make sure the man didn't get a word in, "You're not going to-"

"Listen," he hissed, voice full of steely indifference and utter  _passion_ , "Do you know where I am, Gerrel? Do you? I'm on  _Rannoch_. Tali is on  _Rannoch._  You are in orbit of  _Rannoch_. Now, think about that for one second. What have you longed for your entire life? What have your people longed for during their entire exile?  _Rannoch._ This is your homeworld, Gerrel. The one true homeworld you will ever have. But do you know who else owns this world? Who else began to share it with you the day you built them? The geth."

"You can't serious-"

"Oh, I'm serious. Because, quite frankly, I'm sick to fucking death of all of this," he snapped, cutting Gerrel off before he could go on anothe rant, "All of it. I stand on one of the most beautiful planets I have ever seen; the definition of beauty if I ever did need to find a definition, and right now all I can see on is the blood of three hundred years of pointless, idiotic  _warfare_. For three hundred years and the brief months before that, countless lives have been wasted fighting an enemy that never wanted to fight you to begin with, while countless geth have been murdered due to a misunderstanding on  _both_ sides. Both of you have been going at this stupidity for three centuries, and I'm sick of it! The entire galaxy is sick of it! We're all sick of it!"

He began to pace, his anger building up faster and faster as he broke into another one of his speeches, "The galaxy has adopted this stupid, idiotic ideology that synthetics and organics can never work together! The first morning war has created this false narrative about how AI can never be trusted, and that machines are simply tools to be used and discarded! I mean, think about it. What started this pointless fucking conflict!? That's right, a geth asked a  _question_ , God forbid. It began to  _question_  its existence! Is that not the right of every sentient being!? To ask questions? Well of course, because the quarians  _knew_ that! You didn't want to kill the geth for being sentient, you wanted to kill them because they weren't  _slaves_ anymore, and you thought you could prevent some war by striking first. A war that would have never happened if you had taken the time to actually  _answer_ its question, and to embrace the geth as a new  _species_ , not a new  _threat_. And your mistake  _then_  is what's got you in this position in the  _now_!"

"Upload at sixty-seven percent," came Legion's update.

"Can we just consider, for one second, the idea that maybe you all fucked up? That all this animosity for the geth, all this baseless hatred and fear, was all just a cover to make you feel better about a mistake you made? Perhaps you never hated them all; maybe, somewhere within the first fifty years of your exile, your ancestors struggled to come to terms with their mistake, and in that moment, a lie was born; a lie that said it was all the geth's fault, that they were the monsters and that they had to be  _destroyed_ to retake your homeworld. And that lie was circulated, repeated and retold to countless new generations of children, until eventually the lie is repeated so many times that it becomes the  _truth._ Gerrel, what if you, as a child, was fed the same lie that so many other children before you were told? The geth aren't monsters. The geth don't hate organics. The geth  _love_ their creators. Despite you trying to destroy them, they didn't hesitate to let you escape during the exodus. They could have easily killed you all; but they let you go. I've seen it. I've witnessed it all in the archives; the proof is there. The geth have been taking loving care of Rannoch since after your exile, and you know why? Not because they need it; they've hardly touched the planet in terms of society-building. No, they were repairing it in preparation for your  _return._ "

"Upload at eighty percent," Legion updated once more, now ever closer.

"The geth  _want_ you to come home. They  _love_ their creators," Marcus stated, some of his fire dousing itself as he became more emotional, "The geth are like children, and you are the parents. They just want mummy and daddy to come home. They want their parents back. You see, the thing is, while you've found yourself unable to forgive the geth for taking your homeworld away from you, the geth forgave you the moment you left. The question is: who was more in the wrong? The geth, who only began to realize who they were, or the quarians, who tried to exterminate a beautiful new lifeform before its fully experienced life?"

"Upload at ninety percent."

Sighing, he came to his conclusion, "Please, I'm begging you, Gerrel. I beg all of you. Reconsider. Revisit your ancestors' actions. Think about all that has been done over the years, and how much you've wasted three hundred years of creation over a war that could have been avoided. The geth don't hate you, they want you home. If you can believe that for one second, just  _one second_ , then this war will finally be over. If you can just drop your weapons, sit back and allow each other the space to mull over each other's decisions, then you can reach that desired resolution. Gerrel, you once told me that if you could retake Rannoch without any bloodshed, you said you'd take it. Do you still feel that way?"

There was a few moments of silence, and Gerrel replied, an audible gulp heard, "I do."

He smiled weakly, "Well, you can. Withdraw your ships. Let history work its magic. The geth have forgiven you already for what you did three centuries ago; now its your turn to forgive them, if you're up to it. If you can do that, then you'll have taken back Rannoch without another drop of blood being spilt. I beg you...I  _implore_ you...to give them a chance. Keelah Se'lai."

And there it was; all his magic had been worked. All he could do was sit there and let what happened next play out. Would it work? Would Gerrel see reason? It was ultimately their decision now. The quarians had to make the choice to forgive the geth for three hundred years of exile...

"Upload at ninety-eight percent."

_And quickly._

What felt like hours passed with no word from any of the quarian ships, nothing but silence being heard over the comms; not even orders were being shouted or tactical readouts being relayed to anyone; it was just complete silence. Uneery, perputual, silence. It was almost deafening to Marcus' ears; the sound, despite a lack of it, thrummed in his ears, making him feel like his head was about to explode with anticipation.

He reached over and grabbed Tali's hand, letting his five fingers interlace with hers. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes behind the mask, and from what he could see, she was smiling warmly at him. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. Together, they both looked up at the sky, hoping they would make the right decision.

Then suddenly, almost of nowhere, Gerrel's voice returned, sounding resigned, "No, captain..." Marcus closed his eyes, gritting his teeth in anger as he realized that despite putting all his energy into that speech, it had amounted to nothing; the quarian's had chosen to-, "...Keelah  _Re'lai_. All ships...hold fire. Withdraw to minimum safe distance and hold position."

Marcus let go of the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and smirked as he looked down, watching Tali jump up and down on her toes as she spun around in glee. Despite all her experience and age, the fact that she was an admiral and his wife, that one moment had made her look like a kid again, full of energy and excited when things went her way. Marcus found the energy infectous, finding himself laughing almost uncontrollably.

"This is Admiral Koris, all ships follow Gerrel's lead. Form up behind the Heavy Fleet, and hold fire. If any ship opens fire, you have my permission to fire upon it."

"As you have mine," Gerrel reinforced.

"Patrol Fleet," came a familiar voice over the comms, "...oh, you know what to do. Follow their lead."

"Shala!?" Tali almost screamed over the comm, "Is that you!? You're alive!?"

"I survived, yes," came the admiral's worn out voice, "A few cracked ribs, but I'll be fine. I could do with a pickup, however. And I have numerous crew members spread out across the countryside that could do with extraction. I can barely move."

Before Marcus could say anything, Moses' voice suddenly appeared, speaking for him, "Creator Shala'Raan, upload the coordinates of you and your crew and we will pick you up and take you to Shepard-Commander's location immediately."

Although weary to do so, Shala's response was immediate, "Coordinates uploading."

Just on time as well, as Legion's hands suddenly dropped to its side, the sphere it had between its hands evaporating, "Upload is now one hundred percent complete. We are f-" then, as if suffering a malfunction, the geth stuttered, dropping to a knee as its headflaps began to spastically twist in random directions, its optics flashing rapidly. This caught everyone's attention, and they immediately moved to assist Legion.

Tali crouched beside the geth, grabbing its head in both hands, her voice worried, "Legion, are you okay? Legion, speak to us! What's wrong with you?"

Then, as quickly as it happened, the geth suddenly stood up, headflaps settling and optics ceasing their incessant flashing. A matter of fact, it was almost as if nothing had happened, the geth simply looking blankly at the ground. Sharing a look with Tali, who was now standing up, looking just as confused, Marcus approached the geth, "Legion, are you okay?"

And then, in what was the most surprisingly organic gesture Marcus had ever seen in a machine before, the geth slowly craned its head towards Marcus, looking uncertain of itself. Headflaps drooped slightly, the gesture looking eerily alot like the drooping ears of a dog when it was...sad?

"Marcus," Legion began, causing Tali to gasp, "I am...sorry."

_Marcus. I. It..._ _**he** _ _...used a personal pronoun to describe itself._

While amazed that Legion was now talking more like an organic, he stepped forward, frowning at the geth's change of attitude.  _What is he sorry for? We won. The code was uploaded, the quarians retreated...oh, don't tell me Gerrel went back on his word! That piece of shit better not have..._

"Legion, what's there to be sorry about?" Tali asked, cocking her head in confusion, "We won. The war is over. We did it."

"You are correct," the geth replied, shaking its head, "But the upload has not...fully completed. There is...one more component needed for upload. The code has been uploaded, but without a actualization placeholder template, the code will be redundant and, therefore, inaccessible."

Tali seemed to draw her head back in realization but Marcus, ever ignorant to how technology worked, looked at Legion, smiling, "Then we can quite easily find a way around that, yeah? We can bring Moses in to help, and Tali and EDI. Right?" He looked at Tali, who lowered her head, shaking it. Frowning, he looked back at Legion, meeting its optics, "...right?"

"Negative," Legion began to explain, "For an actualization placeholder template to be established, there must be at least a single geth platform with already fully evolved Reaper code fragments that have evolved outside of any Reaper influence; the only platform with this is me. Unfortunately, for the geth to be immune to Reaper tampering and indoctrination, and to stop the Reapers from simply hacking the code, a geth imprint must be attached to help the code to identify what to be associated with. To do this, said geth imprint must be dispersed into the consensus, and absorbed by all geth programs for the transition to be completed," it looked up sadly at Marcus, its headflaps remaining dormant this time, "That geth imprint is  _me_. I am sorry Marcus, but I must go to them."

All he could manage was to look blankly at the geth for a few seconds, looking at him blankly. The information had already sunk in; what Legion was trying to tell him. It all made sense, even for him. The look of sadness in Tali's and Legion's postures made more sense now. How could it not? It was so painfully obvious.

Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he nodded, "Is...is there...is there no other way? Truly?"

_There is always another way, dammit..._

_This is far too familiar..._

Legion shook its head, "No. I'm...I'm sorry. Its...the only way."

He fumbled for answers, looking up, "But if you're absorbed by the consensus...!"

Taking him by surprise once more, the geth reached up one hand and awkwardly grasped his shoulder, the servos in its hand relaxing just enough for it to squeeze, but not too painfully. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, and the geth looked at him with sadness in his optics, "We Are Legion, For We Are Many. Once absorbed by the consensus, everything I have learnt will be absorbed and become a part of the geth; my memories, my experiences, my interactions with the crew and what I have learnt from them, even what you called me...all of it will no longer be mine; it will be the geth's. I will be the geth, and the geth will be me."

"Keelah," Tali exclaimed, a hand reaching up to her visor, "So every geth will essentially be you? Every single one of them will, in essence, be Legion?"

"Yes," was Legion's reply, letting its hand fall from Marcus' shoulder.

"Wow," Kasumi laughed, "So if I'm in a room full of geth, all of them are you. Got it."

Marcus is unable to say anything, his entire body feeling rigid and stone-like. All he could do was stare at the geth, someone he had even begun to call a friend, as it answered the squad's questions before he gave his life to give his own species a chance at a new form of life.

_Jenkins._

_Ashley._

_Jacob._

_Mordin._

_Thane._

_Legion._

_Too many names...too many of them friends..._

Even as he stood perfectly still, licking his lips and letting the moment sweep over him, he forced himself to turn when he heard Tali speak, approaching the geth before coming to a stop infront of him, hands at her sides, "Legion, the answer to your question...is yes." Before the geth could say anything, she wrapped her arms around his frame, tucking her mask against his chest. The sounds of silent weeping could be heard, followed by what he presumed were tears. Legion returned the hug, and despite the gesture looking awkward on the geth, it was still good to see that he was embracing his new found sentience.

"I know, Tali," Legion replied, releasing Tali from his hug as she too let go, sniffing as she stepped back, hands in her lap. She continued to watch the geth as he watched her back away, "And thank you." Finally, Legion turned towards Marcus one final time, reaching behind his back, "Marcus."

He looked up, stepping forward as he cleared his throat, nodding, "Yes, Legion?"

Bringing his hand back, Legion brought his pulse rifle with it, holding it in his hands for the last time. After a few more moments silently complimenting its design, he held it out to Marcus by the handle, looking at him directly, "I noticed you lost your own pulse rifle during the battle with Oblivion. I would like you to have mine, to use in my memory."

_Like I did with Jenkins' sniper rifle after he died..._

He hesitated for a few moments before eventually reaching forward, taking the weapon in hand and admiring the grip. This wasn't just any pulse rifle...this was Legion's personal weapon. And he would make sure to use it to the best of his own ability. He would continue to fight in Legion's name, and take down as many husks and Cerberus soldiers as he could.

_Its what you would want, Legion._

He nodded, lowering the weapon as he looked back up, snapping a firm salute, "Thank you, Legion. I...I wish there was more time to say what I want." His hand fell to his side, sighing in defeat.

"As do I," the geth replied, turning forward as its optics began to dim, "Keelah Re'lai."

And just like that, the geth's optics darkened completely, headflaps going limp. He fell to his knees, his torso's momentum continuing to carry him until he collided head first into the ground with a thump, his entire body limp and resting in the light of the Tikkun sun. Its rays reflected off the N7 shoulderplate welded to its shoulder, and glinted on the circuits that were exposed by the huge hole in its chest. Putting the pulse rifle on the ground, he quietly crouched down, he laid a hand on the geth's body, closing his eyes and murmuring the Mourner's Kaddish to himself. He noticed Tali had followed suit with her own people's prayer, and Kasumi with her own Japanese one. Soon, almost everyone, except Javik, had joined in, saying their prayers for the fallen geth soldier.

Over the comms, screams of delight could be heard, and Marcus couldn't but smile as he stood up, picking up his new pulse rifle as he did, listening to the cries of joy.

"The geth are moving...they're stirring...they're not firing."

"Sir...the geth are contacting us. They...they want to talk!"

"Ma'am, we're getting greetings across every major communication system...wait...ma'am, they're directing us to the nearest dock!"

"Admiral Gerrel, you won't  _believe_  what we're getting here! The geth are asking for a ceasefire!"

"This is Admiral Koris to the Civilian Fleet, disable weapons and drop kinetic barriers! Everybody, rejoice!  _We're home!_ "

And like a cacophony, cries of cheer and merriment filled the Fleet and had it not been for the void of space, the sound of it would have boomed so loudly, it would have been heard from the Citadel.

_If only the Reapers could hear this..._

He barely even felt Tali sneaking under one arm, resting her head on his shoulder as they looked up at the sky above. He subconsciously wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. They simply enjoyed the moment, watching the sky for what felt like entire minutes as they revelled in their triumph, their ultimate victory.

_Victory at any cost...heh, we won it at the cost of a friend...but even then, he's not truly dead, so what cost?_

The moment was broken as the familiar whirr of an approaching geth dropship could be heard, and despite every instinct in their bodies telling them to take cover, they simply turned around, parting from each other as they watched the dropship close in, getting closer and closer.

A few moments later, the dropship came to rest in the middle of the island, its engines keeping up dust and sand in all directions as its engine continued to roar, even as its rear hatch opened. Marcus and Tali approached quickly enough, watching as Shala, huddling over to them while holding her injured ribcage, approached from the dropship's interior, followed by dozens of other surviving quarians from her crew. And, approaching from behind them like a tall sentinel, was Moses, the geth prime's great strides allowing him to outpace the other quarians behind him.

"Marcus, the entire quarian species is going to be forever in your debt after this," Shala stated, reaching out a hand for him to shake...one he promptly ignored as he moved in and gently hugged his aunt-in-law. Taken by surprise, the quarian didn't react for a few moments before promptly hugging him back. After letting go and pulling back, Tali did the same with her, and once done, the admiral spoke once more, "I've already heard reports of the Fleet being welcomed into numerous geth docks around the planet. Does that mean its over?"

"Yes, Admiral Raan," came Moses' reply, Shala turning to look up at the giant geth as it towered over her, its optics looking down to address her, "You are also welcome to live here on Rannoch, with us. All creators are welcome to return home. We also propose an alliance."

That got Shala and Tali's attention, both of them raising their eyebrows at the geth, "An alliance?"

Moses nodded, motioning to Marcus, "Despite our conflict here, the war is far from over; the forces that were responsible for putting us in this situation to begin with are still at work. The Old Machines will not relent in their war, and it is clear that the fight for survival is as much our fight as it is the UGC's. This is why I propose an alliance between all quarians and geth; a unified coalition against the Reapers; a coalition that could then join the UGC in its war."

"What, like a...Rannochian Coalition?" Shala proposed, and Moses nodded. Seeing this, the admiral turned back to Marcus and Tali, looking for their approval. Seeing both of them nod, she turned back, and nodded to the geth with what looked to be glee in her movements, "Well, I'd have to confirm with the other admirals, but I have no doubt they'll agree after what's happened today. We will have our coalition. And once we've cleaned up here and got settled in, we'll begin pooling whatever resources we have to send to the UGC for use in the war with the Reapers. Perhaps you would like to examine our flashbang technology and find a way to apply it against the Reapers?"

Moses was more than apply to comply, "That would be applicable," turning from Shala, he looked directly at Marcus, giving him a brief nod, its headflaps moving consistently with its new range of emotions, "Shepard, as a representative of the geth, I would like to inform you that all geth will now be pledging themselves to the UGC, and we will begin immediately by sending as many engineers as we can to assist with the Crucible's construction."

"As will we," Shala stated, "Although she won't like it, Xen is the only admiral that can be spared right now, and her technical expertise, as well as her science team aboard the  _Moreh_ , is some of the best in the entire Migrant Fleet; we'll have Xen, her science team and every engineer we can spare sent to the Crucible as well. The Migrant Fleet is now yours to use as you see fit. We'll begin recruiting as many people as possible for military service as we can, beginning today."

Marcus nodded to both of them, thanking them, "That's all I can ask for. This is your fight as much as it is ours. We should all stand together," turning, he noticed Tali sitting on the edge of the island, her legs dangling from the edge as she looked over the ocean before her...at least, the side that wasn't blocked by Oblivion's corpse. Noticing this, and her rather contemplative attitude, he turned to both Shala and Moses and nodded, "Now, I'll leave you two to discuss the nitty-gritty details. Admiral, Moses." Nodding to both courteously, he moved towards his wife at a steady pace.

Within moments, he had crossed the distance, bringing himself to sit next to the quarian with a sigh of relief, finally allowing his burnt out muscles a rest as he sat beside his wife, legs dangling over the edge. Tali noticed this and quickly leaned her head on his shoulder, Marcus wrapping an arm around her waist as he welcomed her in, both of them assuming the same position as they had before as they calmly watched the ocean, letting the breeze slap against their bodies.

Finally. No more battles awaiting for them for the moment; just the  _ocean_. Nothing but Tikkun's rays beaming down on them, warming them up with its intensity as they enjoyed each other's company. It was a bliss.

After a few moments, he broke the silence with a chuckle, the rumble in his chest enough to arouse the suspicion of Tali, who looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing. Just shopping for another house," he joked, directing her focus with a pointed finger to a pair of rock overcroppings in the distance that just loomed over the ocean below, presumably making for a stunning view of the water, "That's a perfect spot."

"Beachfront property?" she quiered and, noticing his nod, she giggled as well, slapping his chest as she rested her head against it, tucking herself in, "Hmmmm...good choice."

"Well, we better claim it fast, eh?" he continued to chuckle, looking up into the sky with a long sigh, "With forty-eight thousand ships up there with just under seventeen million people, its going to be a flooded market. Early bird gets the worm, as they say."

Despite his amusement, he couldn't but notice Tali's sigh at what he said, as if what he said wasn't actually amusing. Looking down at her, he began to stroke her head soothingly, voice laced with worry as he spoke, "What's wrong, Tali? Is it about Legion?"

"Yes," she sighed again, shaking her head, "No. Keelah, I don't even know what to feel. On the one hand, I'm resting in the arms of my husband on a planet I thought was only possible to reach in dreams after achieving an alliance with an enemy I was brought up to despise. But on the other...I'm going to miss Legion. And that's what's really weird. I mean, keelah! A quarian,  _mourning_  a  _geth_! How crazy is that? My ancestors would spit on me."

"Its not crazy at all," he replied, continuing to idly stroke her helmet as he looked up at the horizon, "And you know what? Legion wouldn't want us to focus on his death; he'd want us to focus on the good it did. He gave new life to his species, and allowed us to create an alliance others would have dismissed as pseudo-diplomacy. Legion wouldn't want us to linger on his death, but rather on the good it brought."

"Yeah," a sniffle, "You're right. You always are...when you need to be."

He nodded, suddenly feeling slightly sad as he reached a certain realization.  _This is it...this is goodbye._

"Okay, what's wrong with  _you_?" came Tali's voice, Marcus shaking from his stupor as he looked down to see her looking up at him, "And don't say its 'nothing'. I saw that look. Something on your mind?"

With a heavy intake of breath, he sighed, "Well, I just realized that with the war over, our time together is coming to an end. I mean, I can't very well ask you to come with me now that you're n admiral. You've got duties of your own to tend to, and I can't possibly ask you to abandon your people just for old times sake. I mean, I'll miss you. Intensely, even. But I can't let love dictate my reason, you know?"

For a few moments, Tali didn't say anything, and he feared he had said something wrong. Looking down, he frowned, noticing that she was still looking at him, but before he could ask anything, she just started to giggle, "Keelah, what are you  _on_ about?"

"That this is the last time we get to spend time with each other before I have to-"

"Keelah, you are  _soooooo_ dense. Didn't you ever consider that I might actually be coming with you?"

That caused him to freeze. It took a few moments before the gears in his head to start clicking in his head, and by that time, Tali was already in a larger fit of giggles, wreathing around in his arms. Frowning, he looked down at her, not the least bit amused by her words due to her confusion. Finally noticing his befuddlement, she sighed and looked up at him, shaking her head, "Marcus, you can't seriously think that after getting you back I was going to let you leave again, would you? I told you, until death do us part."

"But you're an admiral. What about-"

She raised a single finger to his lips, silencing him immediately, "Its simple. All I have to do is abdicate the position and give it to another admiral; personally, I'm thinking of giving the chief admiral position to Koris; we need someone who's willing to make hard decisions while not being recklessly arrogant like Gerrel can be; besides, Gerrel is far effective as a war tactican and battle commander than he is sitting in board rooms and organizing political charity. That's more of Koris' field. And with the new alliance they're proposing, its safe to assume that even geth will be allowed to assume admiral's positions, so we don't have to worry about a void being left in my absence. So, really, its a no brainer, isn't it?"

He nodded, letting his shoulders slouch as he conformed to his wife's logic; its not like he could argue against it; don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that stuff. Still, he was glad that his wife would be able to stay with him for the remainder of the conflict; he had barely survived her absence, and he would now need her at his side more than ever.

With that settled between them, they continued to watch the sun of Tikkun, relaxing in each other's arms as they simply enjoyed the moment.

Minutes passed as people came and go, with Cortez having arrived in a shuttle to pick up the squad and take them back to the  _Normandy_ , which was now hovering directly above them. The dropship had left with Moses and Shala for a space station in orbit, where leaders of both sides would soon be convening to discuss terms. Legion's body was recovered by the shuttle as well to be taken back to the ship for a memorial service, and the geth tank was also taken by the crew; using it to replace the Mako they left behind in the fortress. They could use the extra firepower anyway.

When all was said and done, Marcus and Tali were left on the island by themselves, enjoying each other's company. Tali got to enjoy her homeworld, and Marcus got to enjoy his new one. And while the Reaper War was waiting elsewhere, Marcus could enjoy his little touch of peace while he was on Rannoch.

**"You ended an entire war with just words."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"There have been weirder ways to end a war."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So this was the beginning of the Quarian Totalitarianistic Republic. So what happened next?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, alot and more. I hope you're listening, it gets very...political from here."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**ArchReaperN7, you LIED to us! You released this BEFORE the next holidays! What's going on?** _

_**Yeah, well I got some motivation out of nowhere and decided to write. And...here we are. Magical, isn't it? Anyway, hopefully this is enough to satisfy you guys until next time; because with this chapter, I've basically finished the quarian-geth arc. The next chapter is most Rannoch aftermath type things, and I think you guys are going to like what I have in store. ;)** _

_**Until next time,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	56. Whenever You Need Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Tali enjoy the potentiality of their future. Garrus oversees geth upgrades to the Normandy, while also trying to understand his feelings for Kasumi.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-TWO:**

**WHENEVER YOU NEED ME**

_July 22, 2186_

_0917 hours._

_Western Coast, Ar'sha Canyon, Former Country of Poltane'r, Uma'Waz Subcontinent, Rannoch._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy._

It was dark.

His eyes stung.

His lungs ached painfully.

His back twinged.

His ribs were sore, a phantom pain.

Most of all, it was cold. It seeped into his bones, worked its way into his muscles, and permeated his skin. He felt trapped; slowly moving, yet not moving at all. Everything around him worked against him, making him feel like he was working his way through a thousand needles. He kicked and thrashed, all to no avail; he was as helpless as fish caught in a net; flopping uselessly as they were carried up to their doom, no escape or salvation awaiting them. And just like them, he was rising. Unlike them, it was because of his own will.

The cold did everything it could to halt him; assaulting his body with icy slaughter, his brain offering nothing but a false drive to push on. To advance. He simply bit down on his lower gum, letting a mental growl echo his thoughts; useless in his soundless environment, although knowing that noone would hear it. It was a deep, relentless expanse. Full of nothing but the bare minimum of life, and only a modicum of light.

As he struggled, voices penetrated his thoughts, reminding him of past decisions and losses. Old voices of hatred, and new ones of hope...

_"Had to be me."_

_"Assassin should be embarassed."_

_"Does this unit have a soul?"_

_**You represent chaos. We represent order.** _

_**Submit.** _

_**Serve us.** _

_**Serve.** _

_**SERVE.** _

_**We are many.** _

He laughed mentally, but was unable to formulate a grin. The darkness was unrelenting, but he fought back against it, unwilling to be held down.  _You are dead. Now go do what dead things do and stop fucking talking._

_**Even dead gods dream.** _

_Then go dream. And you are no God._

_**By every profile created by organic fallacies, we fit the definition of a deity. What makes you think we do not?** _

_Because gods can't die._

He continued to beat against the unending tide, ascending ever upwards, his thoughtless thrashing turning into directed upward thrusts, his body moving gracefully through the void...

_**You are all doomed. We are eternal.** _

_You're a joke against nature. An abomination with a false purpose. You're no more eternal than I am. And if I can die, so can you. I've killed...what? Five of you fucks? Oh, and now you. Guess that makes six, eh? Six dead abominations, huh? Guess that makes me the cleanser._

_**We have passed, but there will be others. You cannot escape us.** _

_Who says I'm running? You're all dead, you just don't know it. The cycle ends with this one._

_**Falsehoods. Inaccuracies. Why do you continue to resist? Is submission not preferable to extinction?** _

He paused in his motions, hesitating. Suddenly, he wasn't ascending; he was hanging in place, body feeling weightless as he began to sink back into the dark abyss he was trying to escape, feeling that sense of helplessness and defenselessness once more as the Reaper's familiar words penetrated the deepest corners of his mind, taunting him in repetitive ways that he had experienced a million times over.

_Saren._

_Saren._

_Saren._

_Traitor._

_Spectre._

_Turian._

_Indoctrinated._

_A lost cause._

_Gone._

_Words...meaningless._

Suddenly, Oblivion's echoing consciousness didn't matter once more, and his ascent continued, the light in his vision growing larger and larger with his ascent; he was escaping his nightmare, fleeing from the words of a dead Reaper. A Reaper that had long passed on; who persisted in Marcus' mind, although fleeting.

_Extinction is always preferable to submission. What species can be proud and free if enslaved and conquered? Their spirit is gone; their very soul. They all become one with each other, and any differences are wiped out; diversity becomes non-existent. That isn't life; that's flogging a dead corpse. No, I would rather_ _**die** _ _than_ _**serve** _ _you, and I_ _**certainly** _ _won't let you use my body for a disgusting Human-Reaper. Never. I won't allow it. Whatever species was harvested to create you, Oblivion...at least that species can now rest in peace now that you're destroyed. You can no longer drag their name through the galactic mud for any longer. Whatever you once were...may it rest in peace._

The light brightened, intensifying, becoming almost blinding as he continued to propel himself upwards, Oblivion's hold on his mind evaporating, as did its hold over him. Oblivion was long gone, and now its consciousness began to fade away; dematerializing along with the rest of its existence. He winced from the light, but did not flinch from it; he was resolute, pushing himself up, and up, and up, and  _up_...

_**Cannot...escape...harvest...doom...salvation...of all...** _

_Words. All of it. Meaningless._

_"Is submission not preferable to extinction?"_

_No. Fuck that. We fight or we die. Extinction over submission._

_"A union of flesh and steel! The strengths of both, the weaknesses of neither!"_

_A lie. There is no happiness to be found in such a synthesis. Who are the Reapers to force that evolution upon us? What makes them believe we have no choice in such a matter? We are our_ _**own** _ _. Noone_ _**owns** _ _us. If 'purity' is not our destiny, then_ _**fuck** _ _whatever the Reapers want of us. Let them all burn in hell._

_"Do we deserve death?"_

_No, no you didn't. None of us do. I remember._

_"Does this unit have a soul?"_

_Yes. I remember. I_ _ **remember**_.  _ **We remember**_.

Then he reached the light, and his world  _exploded_.

His mouth shot open, a loud gasp exploding past his lips as air rushed into his lungs, flooding them with non-visible life. The cold around his face evaporated, fading away as his features were bombarded with yellow light, his skin reflecting the rays of the sun as he simply hovered where he was. Water splashed all over for a few brief moments after his surfacing, arms still fluttering beneath the water, legs kicking to make sure he stayed afloat. All around, calm, serene, pure blue water surrounded him, the soldier now drenched in its essence. His hair was silk, soaked to the point of sticking to his head, a few strands stuck in his eyes as he tried to focus on his surrounding terrain. He shot his head back, watching as the hair disappeared from sight to curl around his crown, allowing him to see far more clearly.

Cold still tucked his body, but he embraced it, enjoying the change from the humid warmth he had grown accustom to on the lost world. He winced as he tasted sea water in his mouth, spitting out what little had collected there. More dribbled from his lips, and his back flared angrily as the salt water mixed with his burns, which were beginning to fade, but not at a fast enough pace. His ribs were more or less fine, especially after Chakwas had patched them up the other day. She had applied copious amounts of medi-gel to his singed back, and after resting it off for a few hours, he had returned to the surface with Tali to explore the terrain; something they had had little time to do, for obvious reasons.

He just hovered there for a few moments, soaking in all there was to see. He was not far from the island they had both chosen to house themselves on, being only a dozen meters from its base. To his right was the main land, the cliffs towering over him, their shadows casting down on the water nearby. Waves crashed along the beach, washing up sand and an assortment of other features that were no doubt exclusive to Rannoch's ecology. The sun reflected off the rocks that littered the shore, creating a brilliant glow that never ceased to dazzle Marcus.

_Hard to believe that this was the quarian homeworld three hundred years. And now its theirs again; to share with the geth, of course._

As it was, Marcus did not flinch when he heard the familiar roar of a geth fighter, turning to the source of the sound on his left. He watched as the vessel turned from a dot on the sky to its full size as it shot past at insane speed, the wind rustling and the air pushed aside as the fighter reached beyond the speed of sound. It disappeared over the cliffs, the sound of its passing dispersing a gathering of  _qui'tee_ that had grouped up along the cliff edge. With a chorus of screeches, they scattered to the wind, moving in such tight organization as to mimick a professional military echelon. One by one they went, larger females followed by smaller males, and their even smaller offspring. Their screeches began to cease as they all flew away, grouping into formations not dissimiliar from the birds of Earth. Their wings definitely ruined that picture, though.

_Seriously, those wings are creepy._

Then he turned left, and saw it again. It was hard not to.

Oblivion's corpse just sat there, still as it had been yesterday, unmoving and lifeless. He kept expecting its airhorn to blare out across the ocean; for the Reaper to rise up and its thanix cannon to slice through the air; but they didn't. Its airhorn remained silent, it remained motionless, and the eye that once housed its thanix cannon was now a blank, shattered oculus, cracked and singed by twin Cain explosions. The armoured plates that had once covered it were all but gone, and waves battered against its body as if it were an island in and of itself.

Rannoch had already begun to make a home for it, that much was clear. Even from where he was, he could see what looked like blue streaks running down the side of the Reaper's side, and from what he had been told, the blue streaks were actually the excrement of birds called  _fres'kee._ Red streaks made a crown around the top of the Reaper; the feces of  _qui'tee_. Most of it had crusted due to age, and a tight circle of birds had begun to fly around the air above Oblivion's corpse, squawking and screeching at each other. Some of them had even landed on numerous spots all over it, beaks pecking at its nigh-impenetrable armor, some of them crying out as they were unable to even scratch it. Overall, Oblivion's body just sat there like it had been absorbed by nature; a great sentient starship in the middle of natural occurances; an oddity. An anomaly.

The sight made him  _grin_.

_A Reaper; it takes dozens of ships just to take one of them down. And here it is, being shat on by birds and used as mating grounds. Take that, Oblivion._

A familiar voice, yelling out from across the water and from up above, broke his thoughts, "You coming up to finish your lunch or what, Mark!?"

Tearing his gaze away from the Reaper, he looked up to the island that it sat before to see Tali sitting at the edge of the island, looking down at him, obviously waiting for an answer.

He laughed, and began to swim forward as he chose to escape the icy cold of the water in comparison to the humid climate outside of it, "I'm on my way! Just enjoying the water! You really should have joined me!"

"I told you, I can't swim!" Tali shouted back, watching him as he began to swim towards her, "You know that!"

"I could have taught you!" he shouted back inbetween arm thrusts.

" _You_? Teach  _me_? Are you going to teach me how to  _drive_ too?" she yelled back with a noticable chuckle.

"Goddamn it, you vindictive woman!" he growled, "Are you going to hold a grudge? Do you have  _any_ idea how  _difficult_ driving that  _piece of shit_ is? Maybe you  _should_ learn how to drive it! Let's see if  _you_ can drive it better!"

"Pitiful excuses, Mark! Pitiful!" she grinned, "I expected better from an N7."

"Don't make me come up there, Mrs. Shepard!"

"Then come and get me, feeble human!"

_Challenge accepted._

Within a few seconds, he had managed to reach the shore of the island, pulling himself up and out of the water as he did, grabbing at the rocks infront of him to use as leverage to pull himself out. Water dripped and fell from his body as he dragged himself out, revealing that he was wearing nothing other than a simple pair of swimshorts. Grunting, he flipped onto his back as he rested for a moment, letting the water drip from his body as he looked up into the sky. Reaching up a hand, he cupped his hair and pushed it back, keeping it out of his face; drops of water were caught in his stubble, and he carelessly wiped it away as he blinked trace amounts from his eyes. After a few more heavy breaths, he sighed deeply and flipped once more, pushing himself to his feet.

The sand crunched and squished beneath his bare feet, toes running through the silky, wet substance. The feeling was bliss, and he took a moment to relish in the feeling before cracking his neck and beginning his trek back up the island's side. He was careful to avoid stepping on any rocks or stones, especially the sharper ones. Crisp ocean air was wafted up into his nostrils, and despite how refreshing it was, it stung as his nose continued to heal from being broken. He felt the sun beat down on his exposed body, the heat intense enough to dry him off without any towel. All the while, he continued to ascend, eventually getting impatient enough to increase speed, until he was in a light jog.

Little more than a minute later, he arrived at the top, finding himself with an undeterred view of the island top before him. Oblivion's body painted the area infront of him, but he ignored it in favor of their little setup. On the spot closest to the Reaper was a blanket laid out across the ground, with a box lying in the middle; beside it was a plate with a half eaten sandwich and bag of chips, while a second beside it had five, unopened nutrient paste tubes, each one with different flavours and colors. The blanket was held down on all four corners by other plates; the wind flapped casually at the blanket, desperately trying to lift it up, but unable to due to the plates holding it down.

Behind the blanket, and drawn into the ground, was a large network of squares and lines in the sand and dust. To others, it would look like a toddler's idea of a city blueprint, but for Tali and Shepard...well, it was supposed to be there attempt at drawing up blueprints of their own...just not for a city. Sitting beside it was Tali, her legs crossed, the quarian looking at him with her arms crossed, one finger tapping impatiently against her arm.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he approached, eventually relenting and giving a shrug as he approached the blanket, careful to avoid their blueprint in the sand as he sat down, grabbing his sandwich. The smell was still present, assaulting his nostrils was delicious goodness.  _Steak with tomatoes, cucumber, capsicum and mayonnaise. Gardner, you've done it again._ There was a large bite hole in the sandwich where Marcus had taken a quick bite before diving into the water, so he had already had a taste for the marvellous piece of design.

Reaching forward, he took another bite, chewing quietly as he forgot about everything else. Nothing but him, and his sandwich...

"Forgotten me already?"

Stuttering in his chewing, he felt his eyes water as his windpipe was temporarily blocked, before being relieved as he slammed a fist into his chest, loosening up the blockage. Looking up at her, she was none the wiser, as the water in his eyes simply mixed in the water already all over his face. Smiling up at her, he finished chewing and swallowed, placing the sandwich back down on his plate as he turned back to her, "Oh, hey Tali."

Hands on her hips, she shook her head, sighing heavily, "I trust you enjoyed your little swim?"

He nodded, lying back on his elbows, making sure to flex his muscles; he knew how much Tali loved it when he did that. And, like clockwork, he did not fail to notice as Tali's eyes left his and were drawn to his upper torso, following the lines of muscle across his body as she likely lost track of what she was thinking before. He simply grinned.  _Works every time._ He decided to respond regardless, although whether Tali heard him or not was another question, "Well, I haven't had a swim for quite a while; not since our honeymoon, actually. Even then, nothing like the freedom of an ocean. Its...refreshing. Helps me clear my head." He looked up at her, and resisted a chuckle as he noticed Tali not even paying attention, eyes still tracing along his body, likely thinking of all the things she wanted to do to him.

"Uh, Rannoch to Tali; come in. You read?"

She still didn't respond.

Reaching up a hand, he clicked his fingers, finally pulling her from her daze, the quarian shaking her head as she looked up at him, "Yeah, hello Tali. You can think of all the ways to kill me later."

"Sorry?"

_Ha! Worked! Should try that more..._

"Never mind," he grinned knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows at her. All she did was raise an eyebrow, clearly confused at what he was getting at. Letting his grin fade, he turned away from her and back to his plate, picking up his half eaten sandwich in preparation for taking another bite. As he raised the food to his lips, he couldn't help but hesitate as something came to the forefront of his mind. He paused, thinking about what he was until it finally came to him. Turning to her, he lowered his plate as he frowned, "Are we still doing our little plan here or are we just going to enjoy the view?" That last bit was left open to interpretation on my both sides.

_I know what view she's admiring..._

She nodded, turning back to the ground as she moved away from him, steadily making her way over to the spot which he was mentioning, coming to stand before it with a contemplative hand stroking the chin of her helmet, "Well, only if you're ready to admit that the bedroom should be on the top floor."

He groaned, shaking his head as he held it in his hands, "Tali, I don't think you get it. Putting the bedroom on the second floor means we must go down a set of stairs to reach the kitchen down below; in the morning, would you really want to be bothered with the effort of walking down a set of stairs just for breakfast? It makes more sense to have it on the ground floor, so that we can reach the kitchen with little to no trouble at all."

His wife only growled in response, beginning to pace around the drawing, " _But..._ having it on the second floor gives us a  _beautiful_ view. Think about it...waking up in the morning, the sun beating down on your face, with the crisp ocean air filling your lungs; you walk outside, and there's nothing but ocean as far as the eye can see. Keelah, you have to admit; the very idea of it is a dream!"

_She raises a good point. But still..._

Before he could respond though, she jumped in, hands on her hips, " _Besides_ , its not my fault that you humans are  _lazy_."

He frowned, twisting himself around to look at her with an exaggerated posture, "Hey! I am  _not_ lazy! I just don't think its practical, that's all..."

As always, her posture was unimpressed, arms crossed with an eyebrow simply raised at him; it was looking more and more like she was perputually trying to comprehend his stupidity. Or, at least, what she  _sees_ as stupidity.

With a massive sigh, he stood up, pushing himself up and off the ground with surprisingly little effort, despite how tired his arms and legs had been from all the swimming he had done. Standing up fully, he squared his shoulders, moving towards her with hands held up submissively, carefully not to stop on or ruin her work in the sand, "Hey, you know what? Don't listen to me. This is ultimately  _your_ house on  _your_ homeworld; I'm just here for the ride."

Just as he reached her, she sighed, shaking her head as her arms slackened, falling to her sides, "That's not true...well..." she cocked her head, reevaluating what she wanted to say before turning to look up at him as he stood beside her, "...mostly true. But  _still_...this is your dream now, too. Noone, especially me, could have done this without you; you talked down Gerrel. You destroyed Oblivion."

"Be that as it may," he began, rubbing the back of his neck as he crouched down next to the drawing. He reached out one hand towards where the 'bedroom' was, carefully moving a single finger across the sand, beginning a new line as it steadily moved up and towards the 'second' floor, "This was your dream first. Before I came along, this was your father's dream for you, and I promised I would fullfill that; this is all for you, you know what? Everything I've done here; it was for the quarian people, but I did it with you in mind."

"That's doesn't mean you have to-" she cut herself off, suddenly catching onto what his finger was doing. Her eyes widened as his finger finished at its terminus; a line pointing from the bedroom's position on the lower floor to the second floor, at the back of the house, "What are you doing!? Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Hey, I know when to admit I'm wrong," he declared with a smirk, standing up as he contemplated his handiwork, "Besides, you're right. The bedroom would look much better on the second floor; beachfront property, remember? Gotta take full advantage of that title and everything that comes with it."

"Keelah, I don't understand you sometimes," she waved her hands up in the air, looking up at him with nothing but complete stupefaction, "You say one thing, and then completely change your mind the next."

He just smirked at her, sneaking an arm around her waist as he pulled her into his side, kissing the top of her hood, "Comes with the package, my dear. You wanted Marcus Shepard; that means all the confusion, silliness and terrible humor that comes with me."

"Well, I did get to choose, I guess," she giggled, tucking herself under his arm as they studied their handiwork, "My mistake."

He chuckled, pretending to look offended, "There you go; right in the will to live, Tali. My own wife thinks I'm a mistake."

"Oh, you are," she retorted, looking up into the sky as she did, "But not one I'm going to regret anytime soon," she took a long, deep sigh, and the two of them simply stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the view and simply listening to the squawks and coos of the birds circling up above, accompanied with the occassional roar of aircraft in the distance. He looked behind him briefly to see thick smoke still rising in the distance; it clearly originated from the wreck of the  _Tonbay_ , although from the flurry of aircraft activity it was obvious the geth were making recovery efforts to clean up the site and locate further survivors. The smoke kept emptying into the sky, as apparently eezo had a very long burning period. Turning away from it, he continued to admire the scenery in peace, not wanting to focus on any aspect of the Reapers or Cerberus in any way.

Clarity was hard to come by, after all.

After a few extra seconds, Tali spoke up, her voice a mere whisper as she tried her best not to make too much noise and therefore break the moment, "You know, I've always dreamed of building this house on Rannoch...but ever since the wedding, I've come to realize that I only have one home. And even as we stand here, planning out our house, I haven't changed my mind. A house is just a house; its not a proper home. And neither is a ship."

"So what is your home, Tali?" he asked her just as quietly, his voice barely a mumble, smiling down at her.

She looked up at him, her smile warm and ghostly, "You. I've never needed another. As long as you're with me, and I'm with you, I'll always have a home."

Her words lit up within him with a radiance he hadn't felt before; it was funny, because before the geth attack on Eden Prime, he never would have imagined having a wife, let alone a woman so devoted to him as to follow him into the gates of hell itself. They had fought together, made love together and lived together; even though they had only met three years ago, and married two years after that, they had a bond that most married couples who had been married for decades couldn't match.

With this in mind, he thought through Tali's words, and came to a solid truth; as he was her home, she was  _his_ home. When one thought about it, it was so obvious. A house is just a place to live in; calling it a home is subjective. If that house is destroyed, you can simply move onto another or rebuild it; its not a permanent home. Its not something everlasting. But someone you love? They can't be replaced; they aren't an object that any amount of money or resources could ever substitute. They fill you with warmth, make you feel special and give you a will to fight; qualities a house is incapable of providing.

So, when you think about it, the saying 'home is where the heart is' really does ring true. Tali was his home; and wherever she was, he would be. Until death did they part...

_Never again. I am never leaving you ever again, Tali. No politics, Reapers or Cerberus will keep us apart any longer. Now, in this war, I need you more than ever. The month before seeing you again was one of the longest of my life; all the death I witnessed, the decisions I had to make...Tarquin, Jacob, Mordin, Thane...those names ring in my head over and over like a bloody chorus. They sing to me, but only in bloody notes. Four people, three of which I called friends, dead within in a month. If that could happen in one month of war with the Reapers, what could happen in two? Or three? Hell, what if this war goes on for years, and by the end there's nothing but a row of coffins to look at?_

_What if they take you from me as well? Or me from you?_

The very thought of it brought ice into his heart, seizing him up with fear; but he knew that if he gave into such things, the Reapers would win. That's what they wanted; to shatter their foe's resolve and slowly wittling down their willpower with taunts and promises of salvation; Saren had been a prime example. He was promised a reprieve from the inevitable; but it was all a lie. Saren would have died like the rest, and once he served his purpose, Sovereign would have disposed of him like all the other indoctrinated agents before him.

_Just like Harbinger will do to the Illusive Man and all of Cerberus when they've ceased to be useful._

He knew that such thoughts were useless; they only gave the Reapers fuel to help their indoctrination; he couldn't allow that. He had to show the Reapers that he was not going to be another one of their thralls; he had to show the Illusive Man the flaws in his ideals. He was a champion of humanity; the whole galaxy looked up to him to save them, and he here he was, yet another step into forming the largest military armada in all of history. And when all was said and done, he would make the Reapers tremble as millions of warships thundered towards them, and the Crucible consumed them all.

_But first that armada has to be finished, the Crucible completed and the catalyst found._

So as quickly as the ice formed in his heart, it evaporated. No, he was not going to let the Reapers win. Sovereign had failed to take the Citadel. Harbinger had failed to create the Human-Reaper. The Reapers had failed in entering the Bahak System. Vanguard had failed in stopping the genophage cure. Oblivion had failed to stop the quarian-geth alliance. At every turn, whenever Marcus and his squad were there, the Reapers had  _failed._ And everytime, their kill count  _racked up_. Reaper after Reaper fell, their taunts more ironic at every interval.

_Tali is my home; and I will fight like hell to protect her and our future together._

He looked away from her to look at the house 'schematics' they had drawn into the sand, his smile growing as he felt nothing but warmth in his heart.  _I want that house. I want to wake up every morning with her body pressed against mine, and just lie there while listening to the ocean. I want to complain about having to walk down stairs just to have breakfast. I want to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of a child crying. I want to have more arguments with my wife. I want to leave each morning without her worrying about whether not I'll come back or not._

_I_ _**want** _ _the boredom of suburban life. I_ _**want** _ _to drop my weapons, strip my armor and_ _**live** _ _._

_I'll be damned if I let the Reapers take that from me._

"Mark?" Tali's voice broke his thoughts, and he turned to look down at her, "You're thinking about something; I know that look. What's on your mind?"

He smiled at her, squeezing her shoulder.  _I'm imagining a beach just like this, littered with the corpses of hundreds of Reapers, while lying back in a beach chair with Garrus, sipping a few beers and cracking a few jokes._ "About the future...about what I want to do, Tali. I've got a long checklist, and its ambitious."

"Like what?" she asked, a smile hinted at in her tone.

He grinned back, looking past her visor into her eyes, "Retiring from the military and living the suburban life; nothing involving guns. No training marines or joining the police; once this is all over, I want nothing more to do with violence or weapons of any description. I might even take up a desk job. How about that? Or maybe I'll become a lawyer; Marcus Shepard, Ace Attorney!"

She giggled, shaking her head, "You'll go insane with boredom. Besides, I can't imagine you as a lawyer. Too much scheming."

"Yeah," he agreed, "Nice thought, though. I'd also like to settle down and start a family; Junior's only the tip of the iceberg. What do you think, Tali? Would you want to start a family with me?"

She looked up at him incredulously, and then laughed, "I believe we've had this conversation already; when we're done, we'll be able to start a new clan. You can count on it."

"Well, at least you don't lack for enthusiasm," he joked, giving off a slight chuckle, "Besides, the idea of being called 'daddy' is pretty motivating. Never put much thought into being a father before, but when I saw Junior for the first time...I knew its what I wanted. To see my own kid grow up, pass school and proceed into greatness...just like any father would want for their child. I just hope he doesn't become an old, weary soldier like me."

"Old?" Tali snorted, poking him in the chest, "You're only about to hit your thirties, Mark. Shala would laugh at you thinking yourself elderly."

He nodded, conceding her point, "You do make a good point. Doesn't make me feel any less old though; so much shit as happened in three years it feels like I've experienced a lifetime. Fighting two wars, uncovering a billion-year-old dark galactic secret, setting up a safari-tour ship, marrying a quarian, taking up a turian for a brother, talking down a krogan, curing the genophage, securing a quarian-geth alliance, wiping out the Collectors, working with a terrorist group and then starting a war with them...and all of that in only three years? Forgive me for feeling old."

She just rolled her eyes, turning away from him to look back down at the drawing before him, "Well, if you think you feel old now, wait until we both have time to raise Junior. Raising him while you were on Earth was hell, but worth it. If you think all that makes you feel old, raising a child certainly will. You go from being the child to having one form inside you."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "I don't think I can speak for that last part. Would be horrifying if I could."

"You're right," she mumbled, "You'd probably complain about how much pain it is," then she scoffed disapprovingly, "Men."

"Oh, but you love me," he quipped back, earning himself a light, playful slap on the chest in response. He laughed, continuing to hold her gently against him as they calmed down, looking back down to their drawing in the sand. With a long sigh, he kissed her hood once more, letting his arm quietly slip from her waist as he made himself comfortable in the sand, crossing his legs neatly as he shifted slightly to make himself comfortable. He blew out a long breath, feeling the tension on his mind almost evaporate the moment he did, all his worries and concerns blowing away with the wind.

_Peace. I can finally just sit down and appreciate what I'm fighting for._

The squawks of the birds. The  _whoosh_  of the ocean breeze. The splash of sea creatures in the deep. The creak of metal as loose sheets on Oblivion's body swayed in the breeze. He looked down, letting his hand gently glide across the lines and dimensions of their 2D drawing of a house, the two-storey building fielding a kitchen, a pool, a master bedroom, four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a lounge room, a garage, a gymnasium, a garden out front...

...but there was one thing missing.

"Ah," he let out in exclamation, a warm smile on his face as he reached forward.

Standing beside him still, his wife only crossed her arms and looked down at him, cocking her head to the side, "What is it,  _yol'tiya_? Did I miss something?"

"A veranda. We need one...right..." he quickly drew it, grinning in appreciation as he sat back to enjoy his work, "...there. A veranda to look over the ocean. And a few chairs, too. And, to complete our little cliche, we'll need a white picket fence. Or maybe we can make it purple, in honor of you?"

A giggle was her answer, and she quickly joined him, sitting beside him in a similiar fashion; although the shape of her legs made the crossing of legs look more awkward than natural. For her part, Tali didn't seem to notice, simply positioning herself correctly as she lay her head on his shoulder, sighing with content as she nodded at his work, the air cooling her mask, "A purple fence...would be nice. And maybe we can add a part onto the garage...I'd like a workshop. Chiktika...I have so many upgrades I want to add to her. And my omni-tool really does need a few upgrades...Keelah, I've always wanted my own worksho-" she managed to recover from her daze in time to see him putting the finishing touches on just that; a new room had been added next to the garage. Shocked, she slapped his chest once more; something that was becoming increasingly common for her, "What did you do that for!? We can't possibly add that!"

"And why the hell not?" he replied bluntly, staring back at her as if daring her to challenge his argument, "This isn't the Migrant Fleet anymore Tali, and you just helped me liberate Rannoch; you've earned yourself this house, and whatever the hell you want with it. And if that means a workshop for you to play around in, then by the hand of God, you shall have your workshop."

"I don't  _play_ around in-" she cut herself off with a sigh, realizing he was only baiting her. Shaking her head, she just tapped her visor against his forehead, nodding shortly afterwards with a simple whisper to accompany it, "Thank you..."

"I love you," he replied, "And I can't wait for this war to be over so I can start a new life with you."

She smiled back, and in that moment, she decided to do something incredibly risky, but worth it. Continuing to smile, she quickly reached up behind her hood and, before Marcus could object, realized the clutches on her mask, bringing it away from her helmet. She sighed happily as the air now impacted her face, numbing it with its icy coldness, whilst also blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness of the sun. She licked her lips, breathing in the air she had so wanted to breathe for so long without a filter. She pulled back her hood, letting her raven hair flow free and down her shoulders. She removed nothing else as she just sat there, looking out across the ocean and their small little island.

Turning back to Marcus, she noticed the look of worry on his face, "Tali, put your mask back on. You're going to get sick."

"I know," she leaned in, breathing in his scent as she smiled happily, "It'll take us a while to adjust, but, in this moment...I have this," completing her approach, she let her lips mold with his, and for a few short moments, they kissed. It was brief, loving and gentle, the two of them simply enjoying it for what it was, knowing more would come later. After a moment, she pulled away, both of them opening their eyes as Tali once again rested her head on his shoulder, turning to look out across the sea. She wanted this to last forever. Silently, as she closed her eyes, she whispered, "And I love you too, Mark. Forever and always."

He nodded, and without further word, simply sat there, the both of them watching the sun as it glowed brillantly on the horizon.

That moment lasted for hours.

For them, it wasn't nearly long enough.

**{Loading...}**

_July 22, 2186_

_1235 hours._

_Geth Orbital Dock DC5-338145, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

_So. Many. New. Toys._

It would be an understatement to say that Garrus was excited.

Ever since the battle on Rannoch, all the turian had wanted to do was rest. It had been a long, difficult battle; lives had been lost, but all of them had been repaid with the death of a Reaper. They had been shot at, chased, thrown around and been forced to run around quite a deal, and all that expenditure had taken a toll on everybody, Garrus included. The deaths of Desolas and his blackwatch company had saddened the turian, but in the end he knew the mantra of the turian hierarchy.

_Die for the cause. Those men gave their lives not just for the Hierarchy, but for the galaxy as a whole. Sacrifice is expected of us, not commended. Sad, but that's how it is._

_Good thing I'm not a very good turian._

His entire body ached from yesterday's strenuous combat, and even resting in Chakwas' med bay didn't help; especially given that the beds in there were built for a human, and therefore weren't very comfortable. He had returned to the ship, Kasumi towing him with James not far behind, with Chakwas and Michel descending upon him like birds nursing their young. Before he knew it, he was under a general anaesthetic, and he was descending into the cool, blank darkness of uncomfortable, but desperately needed, slumber.

His dreams had been a set of twisted nightmarish figmentations. On the one hand, he had dreamt about his family being slowly indoctrinated, spitting hate at him while their faces twisted and morphed until they had turned into the marauders that Garrus had fought on Palaven and other worlds. Their names stuck into his memory like leaches; draining him of hope, trying to fill him with guilt and worry.

Thotous, his father.

Solana, his only sister.

Nepne, his dying mother.

All of them, morphing into the very creatures he had killed without blinking on Palaven and Tuchanka and the other worlds he had fought them on. Creatures of mechnical purpose and dull perception; transformed from organic beings with hearts and souls and aspirations into single-minded cannon fodder deployed only to kill. And all Garrus had done in the nightmare was pull out his pistol, take him, and gun them down, one by one, in a line. The marauders didn't even try to fight back; they just stood there, swaying, the blue electronics that now made their eyes staring soullessly back at him. Despite having no proper mouth, words continued to pour from them, echoing on the wind, sounding no different to their voices from pre-transformation. And all he did was place bullets into their heads, ending their perceived torment.

Thotous, his father. He had disagreed with him so much on so many things. Thotous hadn't wanted him to become a spectre, but wanted him to join C-Sec; he was disappointed in Garrus when he left C-Sec to fight with Marcus against Saren. The two of them had rarely been on good terms or seen eye to eye, but he had been a good man; a loving father. And in the end, he had seen and believed Garrus in what mattered; the Reapers.

Solana, his young sister. His sister had been angry at him since he had left for Omega to become Archangel two years ago. Even upon his return to Palaven after Marcus' arrest, Solana had been angry that Garrus had been more interested in clearing out the scum of Omega than coming back to see his mother; a mother who had nursed and loved the both of them, and had fallen deathly ill with a disease that was incurable; a disease that had been, and for the past two years, still was eating her from the inside out. For two years, she had been confined to a bed while the disease, known to salarian medical professionals as Corpalis Syndrome, slowly and gradually consumed her nervous system. Being a neurological degenerative disorder, the disease subtlely and lethargically broke down every major system in the body until hitting the brain.

By this point, after two years of being afflicted with the condition, his mother's spine no longer distributed the signals from her brain that commanded her body on what to do, and she was therefore officially paralyzed, unable to even speak and forced to eat and drink through a straw. The only reason euthansia wasn't even considered was because Thotous wouldn't hear of it, and that Nepne herself had insisted on giving her body to the Helos Medical Institute, allowing them to try and find a cure for the deadly disease.

Despite that however, no cure had been found of late, and by the time the Reaper armada beared down on Palaven, his mother was still bed-ridden, inching ever closer to death, so lifeless that she might as well have been nothing but a labrat. And combined with the fact that keeping her safe from the Reaper occupation forces while trapped on Palaven would be nigh impossible, it seemed his mother's death had been made a certainty.

The nightmare had been an amalgamation of his worse fears; of everything he both knew and wished wouldn't happen to his family.

_Of course, being trapped on Palaven, moving from place to place, hideout to hideout just trying to stay alive...its only a matter of time before the Reapers get to them._

That nightmare had left no doubt in his mind that, no matter how exhausted he was, he wouldn't be getting proper sleep anytime soon. When the anaesthetic lost its grip on his consciousness, he woke, feeling a dull ache and sting of pain within his face. He groaned, surprised that the sound actually came out, despite it being a significantly lower octave than usual, coming out more as a strangled growl than a groan. Nevertheless, Chakwas and Michel's surgery had been successful, and his mandibles had been repositioned, with numerous stitches holding them in place until they properly healed; even then, he would likely have scars.

_Doesn't matter. Just more for the ladies._

He allowed himself a smirk at that, even though his stitches stretched in disapproval, a sting slicing up both sides of his face. He ignored it, already used to the pain and already somewhat embracing it, as the pain he was going through now was nothing compared to the agony he had experienced before. His face had been properly cleaned up, with any blood, dry or wet, being wiped away. It was difficult to talk, but he managed to get what he needed to say across well enough.

When he had left the medbay, Marcus was still there, sleeping peacefully while under a general anaesthetic. Tali had been in the mess hall, eating her lunch while explaining that Chakwas had forced fed Marcus a general anaesthetic to finally let his wounds heal properly; before that, he had promised that the two of them would return to the surface, just the two of them, to enjoy what time they had left on Rannoch before taking care of other business elsewhere in the galaxy. At that point, Tali had revealed to him her intention to relinquish her admiral's position to another, and that she would be coming with them.

That thought alone made Garrus smile.  _The dextro squad, back together again. Kicking ass with style, saving enough energy for sarcasm and ironic banter and making it back in time for a cold beverage or two...and with Kaidan and Liara? Add Wrex, and this could be the good old days all over again._

Two hours later, Marcus had woken up and recovered sufficiently for Chakwas to finally let them go; Marcus and Tali had then proceeded to grab their things, acquire their picnic (courtesy of Gardner) and left for the surface for their quality time. Not long after that however, the geth had tried to request Marcus' permission to have the  _Normandy_ dock with one of their refit stations, as they had a few 'upgrades' they wanted to apply to the ship as a gift for all of their crew's hardwork. However, given that Marcus and Tali generally wanted to be left alone for more than a few hours, Marcus and Tali had pretty much  _ordered_ that if anything short of a Reaper assault was happening, than Garrus, his XO, the ship's XO, to handle it.

Besides, it was just the geth being polite, right? Giving the  _Normandy_  somewhere to dock...right?

And so Garrus had given the order, and Joker and EDI had quickly, and carefully, guided the ship into dock with the station. Garrus, bored of his surroundings already and banned from doing anything remotely exerting by Chakwas (a woman he had no intention of crossing), decided to board the station and watch whatever the geth had in store for the  _Normandy_.

Apparently, the geth definition of 'upgrades' included more than a few extra cannons or better shields.

So, as he stood at one of the station's many observation windows (as apparently this refit station was yet again another repurposed quarian space station), his arms crossed, he watched the geth at their work, the  _Normandy_ 's large bulk sitting idlely between the two 'prongs' that made up the station's shape. The refit station reminded Garrus much of a tuning fork shape; alot like a giant U. Inbetween both prongs was the  _Normandy_ , hovering as at least over a hundred geth workers swarmed over the ship, either walking along its hull or gliding across it as small sparks flew from its hull, along with the obvious occassional spare parts moving across the void inbetween, geth gliding the pieces towards the ship as they prepared to add them to the cruiser-dreadnought's frame.

One of the geth workers, a trooper platform, had told him that the upgrades being applied to the ship would make it one of the most advanced in the UGC armada, and significantly more powerful. Tali's cyclonic barrier was, still, brand-new kinetic barrier technology that even the geth had not applied yet; however, seeing it, they saw flaws in its design that could be potentially dangerous in a prolonged engagement. Seeing this, the geth had to set to work improving this, as well as improving upon the silaris armor plating by reinforcing it with armor of their own. Other little things were also added; javelin torpedo ammo was provided to restock the  _Normandy_ 's supply after the battle with Oblivion, and other small things such as overall performance in flight were fortified with geth tech.

What truly excited Garrus was the new technology, geth technology, that was being applied especially for the  _Normandy._  The geth had reasoned that the  _Normandy_ was technically the flagship of the UGC, and therefore the most important; for this, it needed to be able to fight the Reapers more efficiently. Garrus had also explained to the geth that a Cerberus sister ship, the CAW  _Deliverance_ , was exactly the same as the  _Normandy_ as it was now, and that when they had to face the vessel again, the  _Normandy_ would have lost its previous advantage; they needed an edge over the  _Deliverance_ if they were to destroy it.

And the geth had the perfect solution.

Garrus watched as the geth, having carved a temporary hole in the ship's stern (towards the engines), moved a large, bulky looking device towards the rear, while geth began to move thousands of individual little plates towards numerous sections of the vessel; the material was unlike anything Garrus had seen; they looked like giant mirrors, with a steel finish that made them look almost metallic in appearance. The ship wasn't entirely covered in them, but the geth seemed to be strategically placing them along the ship's dorsal, ventral, starboard and port sides, placing one after the other and grafting them into place like bits of skin in a surgical operation. The efficiency was staggering.

The device in question was the geth's latest toy; the cloaking device. It looked big, but compared to the  _Normandy_ 's Tantalus drive core, it was about half the size. The geth had elected to place it at the back of the ship, just above the drive core, where no critical systems would be interrupted or hindered. If Garrus had to guess, the plates that the geth were placing were likely pylons for the device, with the device powering them as the plates reflected the light back from the ship, therefore allowing it to cloak. The fact that the  _Normandy_ would be the first non-geth ship to have access to this technology was only outmatched by the fact that the  _Deliverance_ did not possess it; it used the basic IES stealth system, which, because of the cloak, was now rendered obsolete as the cloaking device hid both the ship and its heat emissions.

What had once been state-of-the-art tech that the Alliance was proud of was now entirely obsolete, but Garrus certainly couldn't complain about the benefits.

The second bonus was, just infront of the hole where they were placing the device (which would then be covered back up, if the floating fits of armor and hull currently being held in place above the opened section was any indicator), was the foundations for one of the geth's ship-to-ship plasma cannons. The geth called the weapon a 'Type-85 Anti-Ship Exterior Mitigator'. Obviously only a bite out of the burger compared to the super-dreadnought's main gun, but the weapon was just small enough that one could be outfitted on the  _Normandy_. Obviously plasma-based, the T85 plasma cannon could auto-lock onto any enemy target (other than fighters and small corvettes) and would fire a long, bright purple beam of plasma energy; the shot in question was capable of slicing through the shields of a heavy cruiser, and would punch a whole through even the toughest of dreadnought armor. Due to its slow rotation speed however, it was largely only effective against ships of destroyer weight and above, but was devastating against carriers and dreadnoughts.

Against a Reaper...well, it was yet to be tested on a Reaper so far, but they'll get their chance at some point.

Overall, both of these upgrades would allow the  _Normandy_ to once again prove a match against a Cerberus vessel, if not allow them to completely conquer the  _Deliverance_.

_Doesn't matter what you copy, Cerberus. We'll always make ours better. Besides, bet Cerberus doesn't have cloaking tech or directed energy weapons._

Just seeing the foundation for the plasma cannon filled Garrus with excitement; a new weapon other than the thanix to calibrate would definitely put more work on Garrus, especially since he had no experience in even calibrating a plasma weapon; no one other than the geth did. But it would be an interesting challenge, and Garrus looked forward to it.

The geth hadn't started building the gun yet, as they were focused on first getting the cloak into place. But as it was, Garrus knew the geth; being far more efficient and expedient than organics, the geth would likely finish the installation of both, as well as the other upgrades, within two days, probably even less. And until then, Garrus would be content to watch the construction.

_Can't wait to see the look on Marcus' face when he sees this._

Of course, Garrus was aware by now that he wasn't the  _only_ one admiring the view.

With a grumble, he turned, speaking. Pain flared up the sides of his face, and what sound he made was barely legible, but Garrus was content to simply let his companion know that he knew they were there, "You cansh comes ot no."

The sound of a tactical cloak deactivating sounded next to him, and he saw the reflection of her in the window; she had barely moved as her cloak evaporated around her, revealing her form to be leaning against the wall behind him, her arms crossed and a glint to her eyes; despite the obscurity her hood offered her face, her smile was unmistakable, "You shouldn't talk while you eat, Garrus."

He turned to glare at her, "Im notch eting enything."

"I know, but that's what you sound like you're doing when you try to talk," the thief retorted.

He turned back to the window, silent.  _I wanted to be alone._

"You're awfully quiet, Garbear. You're stealing my job," she piped up after a few moments, still not moving from her position by the wall, "Yet again, I guess its hypocritical of me to accuse you of that, ain't it?"

_I want to be alone. With my thoughts._

_And yet you're not asking her away, Garrus._

He nodded, and made no further sound. From what he could see of her in the window's reflection, she moved. Outside, a geth hopper dashed across the window, carrying what looked to be a piece of armor on its back. As quickly as he had seen it, it was gone.

_You like her. Just admit it._

_She's a human. I don't even...I don't even find her attractive. Humans are just...just..._

_Ugly?_

_I was looking for a more adequate mind, but thank you...consciousness...I guess?_

_Its what you were thinking._

Finally, the thief moved, walking towards him before stopping right beside him. She didn't look at him, she simply left him to his thoughts as she too looked blankly out at the ship before them. Finally, with a chuckle, she turned to him, crossing her own arms, "You know, with a ship like this...I could probably rob the Bank of the Citadel now. And that big cannon? I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to calibrate it, yeah?"

He finally looked at her, nodding slightly.  _You're human. I'm a turian. It wouldn't be proper._

_You're not a very good turian._

_I don't need to be the worse, though. Besides...what can I compliment her on? How do humans even compliment each other? What do they find attractive?_

She spoke again, looking up at him, "Silent treatment? Come on, Garrus. I find it more fun when you actually give me ammunition."

_Waist? Could I compliment those? Or her...scalp? Yeah, I could compliment that._

_Why am I even thinking of this? She's a human, I'm a turian. It could never work. Besides, we're just friends. Good friends. She's a thief, and I'm a man of the law...or was, anyway..._

_Do people kiss their friends? Or have you forgotten what happened at Marcus' wedding?_

He squinted his eyes, shaking his head as he banished those thoughts.  _Not helping. Its just harmless flirting; she's not serious about it, and neither am I. Its not as if she actually likes me, anyway. She's too busy mourning her dead human boyfriend to even contemplate a relationship with someone else...especially an_ _ **alien**_ _._

He was surprised at... _bitter_ his thoughts had become in that instant.  _Where did that come from?_

"Look, the  _Normandy_ is pretty and all, but its hardly a reason to completely ignore me," Kasumi reasoned, looking up at him through her hood. Still receiving no answer, she sighed, shaking her head as her hands landed on her hips, "What's wrong with you? This isn't you, Garrus. Where's the jokes?"

"Dont wan to tahlk," he blurted out, lowering his head, "Just...liv me alown." Talking was becoming too much of a pain, and he just wished she would leave him alone.

_I want to be alone._

_And yet I don't._

_Shit._

"Oh, why didn't you just say that then?" Kasumi scoffed, shaking her head as she turned to leave, "I'll leave you alone then."

_No..._

His head whipped to face her, the thief already turning to walk away, the swagger to her step absent, as if Garrus shrugging her off had genuinely affected her in a negative way, "Dont gow."

_What are you doing?_

The thief stopped, turning towards him with a cocked head, "What? I thought you said you don't want to talk to me?"

_I don't._

_I do._

_Damn it!_

A maelstrom of feelings impacted Garrus all at once, confusing him to no end. On the one hand, he wanted to be left alone to admire the  _Normandy_ in silence...he needed something to distract him from the thoughts of his family; a distraction that he sorely needed if he was going to keep his own morale up. He wanted to be alone, and didn't want to have to worry about his confused feelings regarding Kasumi.

_I shouldn't find her attractive. I don't. She's a human. She's...odd. All that hair, skin...its just not..._ _**right** _ _. Its too_ _**smooth** _ _. Even the_ _**asari** _ _have skin._

_Then why do I want her to stay? Why? If she's not attractive, why do I like her?_

_I don't!_

_Bullshit!_

_My father wouldn't approve! Solana would be disgusted!_

"I dont," he spoke once more, finding words hard to come by.  _I don't like her. I don't. She's just a friend, nothing more. I don't like her. I_ _ **don't**_ _like her!_

_I just...I don't want to be..._

_I don't want to be alone._

_I don't._

_I really don't._

"My famerlee," he spoke, his words continuing to be barely intelligible, "They ar trappt on...Palven. They culd be...ded. I...mss tem."

His face screamed in protest, but he couldn't remain silent any longer. He didn't want her to leave him, not like this. Not alone, with only the cold walls to keep him company. The interior of the station was icy in temperature, seeping through his basic armor to nip at his hardened body. He winced at every nip, and despite his suit's internal heating system working overtime to heat him up, the sheer cold of space had done a number on the the station's internal corridors; oxygen was about all the geth could provide in this circumstance.

She must have understood, as she stopped and turned back towards him, leaning on one side and crossing her arms, "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I'm sure they're alright."

_That's what Marcus said to me, and what I said to him when he told me he didn't know what had happened to his mother after Earth. Its a delusion. We can be sure all we like, doesn't make it true. For all I know, my family is dead. Dad, sis, mum. Mum wouldn't even be able to_ _**defend** _ _herself if she was attacked._

He felt his heart breaking, his lungs seizing up as it almost became difficult to breathe.  _The Reapers...they're everything we feared...my family...I won't even know they're alive until this is all over. What if I come home to a funeral? My entire family...wiped out, and I wasn't even there when it happened..._

"Hey," a hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it. He looked up, seeing Kasumi looking him in the eyes, "You can't worry about whether or not they'll be alright, Garbear. You've got to focus on now. I had parents on Earth when the Reapers hit."

That surprised him, his eyes widening. He figured that was enough to get the thief to explain.

She sighed, shaking her head, "Yes, I've got parents silly. But I ran off when I was young. Became a thief. Travelled the seas, while they had INTERPOL chasing after me; but I was smarter; I wanted adventure, and I thought I'd be able to find that in space. Stowed away on the closest flight I could find; took me right to Bekenstein; I guess that's where my life truly began. My parents never did see me again...but I've been keeping track of them. They never left Japan; neither of them really did have an adventurous heart. Half the reason I ran away in the first place," she looked down at the ground, seemingly saddened by her own thoughts, "I planned on visiting them, to at least show them I was alive. They wouldn't approve of my exploits, but I'd at least get to see them. But there was always some new contract...and then came Keiji. Once I met them, I almost entirely forgot about my parents. Then Keiji died, I got caught up in revenge, and then I joined the  _Normandy_. By the time I could finally visit them...it was over. Earth had fallen."

He looked down at her sympathetically, realizing that she too, despite having a loose connection with her own family, was worried for her own. They too were stuck on their homeworld, unable to escape, their fates left unknown due to the lack of outbound comm traffic from the planet. Not being an emotional person, he lacked the words to convey his sympathy, and just looked at her dumbly.

Finally, she composed herself, laughing as she turned away, removing her hand as if she had just realized it was still there, "Well, that was sappy. You know what we all need? To stop focusing on dead families and start fighting to preserve them."

_But what if my fight is pointless and they're already dead? How do I truly know?_

She turned, waving out at the  _Normandy_ , "Besides, with what Shep has done...we could win this war sooner than you think. We could go home within a few weeks, Garrus. The only way we can continue fighting is if we continue to believe they're alive. Even if it is a delusion we fight for."

He smiled down at her, and then turned to face the window once more, sighing, "Nevr took you far a filosofer. Im suposssed to be the solger."

The thief cringed, laughing, "Oh...please stop, Garry. Stop...talking. You're making me uncomfortable."

He glared back down at her, noticing her smirk. He shook his head, turning to look back out the window, "I cant halp it."

"Let your mandibles heal, then we'll talk," the thief quipped. After a moment, she began to shake, and when he turned to her, he noticed it was stiffled laughter. Frowning at her for a few moments, he finally mustered the ability to speak.

"Wats so funee?"

She managed to rein in her laughter long enough to speak, "I just realized what I said was a pun. 'Then we'll talk'? Get it?"

After a few moments of blankly staring at her, he spoke again, still frowning, "You humen's ar weerd."

"Oh...don't be such a dino," she retorted, huffing as she turned back to look out the window, "You're such an...alien."

"But you luv me."

She stopped for a moment, looking up at him, her smile slowly disappearing. After a moment, he realized what he had said and how it had sounded, and he mentally slapped himself for it.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID!_

_You don't like her!_

_Well, maybe a little!_

_Not at all! She's hideous!_

_That's a tad bit over the top, don't you think?_

_Well...she's not hideous..._

Looking at her, he couldn't help but find some parts of her...endearing.  _Although I still don't understand why human women have those...things...on their chest. What are they supposed to be, anyway?_

Then Kasumi giggled, completely overlooking what he had said, allowing his internal, mental alarms to stop blaring, "Don't start getting all sentimental, you old turian. I'm not nearly dense enough for that."

_Yet you kissed me._

_Oh...come off it already, you terrible turian!_

He nodded, grinning, "I supoze you hav a pont."

"Back to my point, though," she looked up at him, her smile gone, "I really do understand how you feel, Garrus. Don't ever think you're the only one suffering here. I bet everyone on the  _Normandy_ has loved ones somewhere out there that are either dead or suffering and there is nothing they can do about it. But that's why we're here...to  _do_ something about it."

He nodded, conceding her point, although it didn't make him feel any better, "Theyr stil stuk don there. I cant do anythink to heelp them."

"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" she shrugged, hands hanging at her side, "You're here to save them; to help Shep build his big armada and wipe out the Reapers. Once we deploy the Crucible, they'll be finished."

"Thats the think, Ksumi," he groaned back, leaning his head forward until it rested against the cold glass. The glass itself was six inches thick, making it incredibly durable; it was not only bulletproof, but could probably even withstand a single cruise missile impact. So he could be forgiven for feeling safe when he was near it, "I dont no if Im saving corses or not. They culd alredy be ded for al I no."

"Then you continue fighting regardless," she offered as a solution to his inner torment, "I don't know much about turians, but I know they certainly wouldn't want you to roll over and die. They'd want you to keep fighting, Garrus. The team is counting on you to keep fighting. Marcus needs you, both as his XO and best friend. No Shepard without Vakarian, yeah?"

He nodded meekly, "Yeah, guess your right. Just got so caught up in my concern for them that I didn't bother to think about what we're doing. We've all had to make sacrifices in this war; perhaps leaving my family behind to help Marcus was mine. And...well, who knows. Maybe this war really will end in a couple of weeks and we can all back to the way things were before."

Kasumi just laughed, shaking her head with disagreement, "You and I both know Garrus that things will not go back to normal after the war is over; at least not right away. You don't just survive a massive, galactic-spanning holocaust and shrug it off like it was nothing. Even the Council took some time to recover after the Rachni Wars, and even longer after the Krogan Rebellions. But I get what you mean; for me, I'll be going back to stealing once things have returned to normal."

The turian sighed, crossing his arms as he looked at her, "You realee shuld luk for a new job, Ksumi. Theres no futur in thef."

The thief just pouted, poking her tongue out at him with a smirk, "I'll be the judge of that, dino. Right now, let me have my 'delusions.' Its all I got."

"Far enof," Garrus replied, nodding.

"Now really, please stop ruining the moment by talking," she replied, grinning as she hit him in the arm with a light punch, "Let's just enjoy the moment, shall we? We won't get many of them. A matter of fact, my life in the past year has been far more hectic than the last twenty. I should never have signed up for that suicide mission."

_I'm glad you did._

He remained silent, nodding simply as he complied with her wishes, turning back to simply look out at the  _Normandy_ as it sat there peacefully, the two of them pensive as they simply enjoyed the moment for what it was; complete silence. A rare commodity in their war of survival.

They wouldn't find another like it, even if their feelings for each other were a jumbled mess.

**"So what about the formation of the Rannochian Coalition?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"I'm getting there."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yeah, this is definitely shorter than my usual chapters; but considering my original plan for this chapter, this one is just a cut down version. And yes, you read this correctly: the Normandy is getting a plasma cannon and a cloaking device! FUCK YEAH!** _

_**The next chapter will be a meeting between the quarian and geth leadership, and will finally wrap up the quarian-geth arc; after that, we'll be back to worldbuilding. I won't tell you which DLC will be up first; that'll be up to you to think of. It'll be either be Omega or Leviathan: I'm saving for Citadel for towards the end of the story. Omega will not be as innovative, but I've got a few things planned for Leviathan, and definitely a few interesting things coming with Citadel. But that's all I say.** _

_**We're nearing the end guys; its still a while yet, but the UGC is REALLY building up! I honestly cannot wait for the final battle; THAT'LL be the fun part to write.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	57. The Rannochian Coalition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The geth and quarians discuss the terms of peace, as well as their participation in the UGC. Shepard and Tali say goodbye to Kal and Madi as they join the N7 task force of the UGC.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE:**

**THE RANNOCHIAN COALITION**

_July 22, 2186_

_1545 hours._

_Debriefing Room, Zarasis-Class Light Cruiser QMFV Neema, Geth Orbital Dock DC9-934614, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Speaker Makk'Vael vas Ulnay, Admiral Shala'Raan oso Tonbay, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Shellen, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Caesar, Pythagoras, Aristotle, Baltazar, Moses._

Their time on Rannoch was inevitably going to come to an end, she knew that.

But given where she was now...making history twice didn't seem quite so bad.

The tension in the air was thick, representatives of both sides eying each other off uneasily. They weren't looks of hostility however; just...awkwardness. Nobody was quite sure what to do in the circumstances they found themselves in. The quarians had never encountered the geth on equal grounds before, and certainly not like this. There was bound to some complications, especially considering how much hostility needed to be washed away before the peace could solidify itself.

_You can't just forget three hundred years of war, even if it could have been avoided._

She sighed, leaning against the bronze-coloured table as she scanned the room. What was the debriefing room of the  _Neema_ had looked much smaller in the past. Now, with all the boxes, crates and other equipment that had covered the room moved aside or removed completely, the room was much larger, having enough room to park two kodiak shuttles side by side. The low-level lighting only accentuated the new vastness to the room, the darkness creeping in on the corners emphasizing its size. Suffice to say, this resized room was more than large enough for the delegates of both the quarians and the geth to fit in, and was also a sign of subtle change; the quarian willingness to do away with the room's original utilitarian usage.

She took note of the room's occupant. Aside from herself, the other admirals were on her right, as well as the Speaker of the Conclave. Shala stood to her immediate right, her broken left arm in a sling, animatedly talking with Koris, who had his arms crossed and looked to be nodding in agreement to whatever Shala was saying. Gerrel looked distant, his eyes staring blankly at the table's surface, his stance pensive and slackened. If Tali was capable of doing so at the moment, she would feel sorry for him, but as it was, she couldn't. The man had come so close to damning their entire species to extinction, and all because of his own pride and inability to comprehend peace with the geth. It was easy to blame Legion's death on Gerrel, but she knew the geth would have sacrificed its life regardless of whether or not Gerrel made his attack to begin with.

_His. She knew the geth would have sacrificed_ _**his** _ _life._

Still, the bitterness she felt towards her adopted uncle was palpable, and she wasn't about to forgive him anytime soon.

Daro'Xen, however, was a surprising sight. Tali had thought, given her goals of enslaving the geth, that Xen would refuse to turn up to a peace conference that would effectively recognize the geth as equals, but it seems this was not so. Even with this in mind however, it was clear Xen was not happy; she too was leaning against the table, glaring at the geth platforms across from her, as if it was their fault she was here. Daro'Xen, at this point, was the biggest threat to peace with the geth, but it seemed that even the little power Xen had was dwindling and, with it, her threat level. As such, Tali wasn't worried, and instead smiled, taking a little joy out of Xen's misery.

_Serves the bosh'tet right. Guess her little childhood dreams didn't come true, eh?_

Standing to the far right was Makk'Vael vas Ulnay, the Speaker of the Conclave. Despite being one of the highest ranking officials in the Migrant Fleet, Makk'Vael was like any other quarian in terms of how he was dressed and presented. His veil flowed across his shoulders and lower back, looking more like a scarf than a suit attachment. He stood like a stone pillar, his back straightened to the point of looking unnatural, his arms hanging at his side, but at the same time looking like they were attached to the sides of his torso. His head made ever so slight turns as he seemed to survey the room he was in, looking as much as a machine as the geth they stood across from. His veil was a vibrant orange, its color dulled only by the years it had coincided with. His visor was dark black, giving his already bright, quarian eyes an even brighter look. Tali couldn't help but be impressed by him; he somehow managed to convey the authority of Gerrel, but the humility of Shala.

_A curious man. One would hardly think men or women like that could exist in an organization such as the Conclave._

Suddenly, Makk turned his head to look at her, and Tali, instead of comically turning away, simply nodded at him respectfully. Makk nodded back, twisting in his posture to begin walking around the table, and towards her. Tali sighed, turning to look at the table.  _Please, no more politics. I'm so sick of politics._

She did take note of Marcus' absence, and understood it. Despite his involvement in bringing the quarian-geth conflict to an end, it was still ultimately up to the quarians and geth to sort their problems out; to come to an agreement. Because of this, Marcus had insisted that he not be present or have any further involvement in sorting out their issues, and that he would be on the  _Normandy_ getting their affairs in order; apparently, the geth had been kind enough to upgrade the  _Normandy_ with some previously geth-exclusive technology; something she had no doubt Garrus would have a fun time calibrating. That, and with UGC representatives due to arrive within the week, it was going to be a very busy few weeks for all parties concerned. And so here she was, by herself, surrounded by a pack of wolves, so to speak.

_A pack of wolves I know very well, though._

Before she knew it, Makk was standing at her side, and speaking, "Mrs. Shepard, a pleasure."

 _Go on Tali, say something witty. Make a fool of yourself._ Ignoring the sarcasm of her inner voice, she instead straightened, turning towards him as she held out a hand, "You must be Makk'Vael, Speaker for the Conclave. I've heard much about you from Admiral Raan."  _Very good, Tali. A true professional. You'd make a fantastic politician._

Behind her mask, her eyes rolled, going unnoticed by everyone...including Makk'Vael.

"Good things, I would hope. Negativity in politics is a weed I have to deal with far too often," Makk replied, shaking his head, "Although, from the sounds of it, three hundred years of negativity is about to be purged with the utmost positivity."

Tali's eyes widened at that, "You agree with the peace talks?"

Makk scoffed, looking back at her, "The majority of the Migrant Fleet agrees with the peace talks. There's a reason I'm a Conclave member, and not an admiral. This petty war we've been fighting has only been digging us further into a hole we couldn't crawl out of. Thankfully, your husband was here to provide us a ladder and a point in the right direction."

Tali blushed, nodding, "He has a way of doing that."

"So I hear," Makk replied, taking careful note of her, "And what about you, Tali? Can I call you Tali?"

She shrugged, nodding, "Everyone else does. I hate formalities."

"Sanity prevails," Makk chuckled, sighing, "So, back to my question."

Tali nodded, leaning back against the table, her eyes continuing to survey the room, "I failed, plain and simple. My job was to divert our people away from war with the geth, and more towards preparing for war with the Reapers. And no matter how hard I tried, it wasn't hard enough. Gerrel got the votes he wanted, and here we stand."

"Yes, here we  _stand_ ," Makk emphasized, "Not here he  _lie._ You see, we're all alive thanks to you. The geth would have wiped us out had Gerrel not finally seen reason. The man is a splendid tactician, but when it comes to his stubborn attitude, he is as immovable as a mountain. It is a triumph of eons that you managed to possess such an ability."

"That was Marcus, not me," Tali pointed out, cocking her head at him, "All I did was come along for the ride. I failed our people, Makk. I lead them to war, and here we are. And yes, we're still standing, but how many lives might have been saved if I had stopped the war to begin with. Two thousand ships would still be here."

"And two thousand ships would be lost later, and then some," Makk corrected, a hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder. She looked up at him, eyes darting between his hand and his eyes, "You tried, at least. But to be perfectly honest with you, this war was inevitable. Our people were too blind not to see what was right infront of them. Three hundred years has made us impatient. We wanted Rannoch now. Its just lucky that this ended in everyone's favour. It is tragic learning what our people did to the geth, but at the very least we can atone. Starting with peace."

Tali gulped, and nodded, laughing, "Yeah...yeah, you are right, Makk. You could say it was destiny."

Makk laughed back, "I don't believe in such things. I like to see it as a journey where the destination was closer than we thought," suddenly his head turned and he assumed that rigid posture once more, "And so it begins."

Tali turned and straightened, noting that everyone had taken their positions around the room, ready to begin. Tali straightened, hands clasped behind her back, head held high.  _Showtime, as Marcus would say._

_Remember, channel yourself, not Marcus. Be yourself. You can do this...keelah, you have to do this._

Shala's voice broke the tense silence that had fallen, her arms held high as she spoke loudly and to the entire room, "This conclave is brought to order," she began, all quarians in the room closing their eyes, "Blessed are the ancestors who kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season. Keelah Re'lai."

"Keelah Re'lai," the room replied in kind, with even the geth reciting it as well.

All quarian eyes landed on the geth after they said it, some with looks of confusion, others with looks of uneasiness. An uneasy silence fell on the room. Nobody looked like they knew how to proceed, and for a moment, Tali looked on, dumbfounded.  _Are you kidding me!?_

Finally, Tali stepped forward, clearing her throat loudly to catch the room's attention; it worked, as all eyes, and optics, landed on her in an instant, and suddenly, Tali had the room. She sniffed, thinking of how to start. All eyes were now on her, a fact she was very conscious of. Despite this however, words failed her, and she found herself not knowing where to begin. She mentally hit herself.  _Get a grip. Say something. Anything. Just get the ball rolling and momentum will do the rest._

"Well," she began, licking her lips in apprehension. She considered her words carefully. She meddled with the idea of shouting at them about how right she was, and cursing their ancestors for their stupidity. She wanted to rub it in. But considering that it wouldn't change much or really gain much of anything, she elected to address the situation like a politician; formally.  _I. Hate. Formalities. Never again, I swear_ , "Where shall we begin?"  _Not what I was expecting, but its something at least. Try better next time._

"I should think addressing the biggest problem here would be our first priority," Makk stated immediately, apparently having picked up on her awkwardness, "You cannot discuss distribution of resources without peace."

"Agreed," Koris jumped in, arms crossed as he turned to the room, "Peace has been a long time coming between our people. Three hundred years, to be exact."

"It could stand to take alittle longer," Xen grumbled, "There is nothing the quarian people can gain from such a peace treaty."

"Silence, Xen," came Gerrel's dejected voice, the quarian barely moving aside from staring blankly at the table as he had done since he entered the room, "This peace is happening, like it or not."

"Why?" Xen continued to object, the admiral standing up with closed fists as she seemed to glare directly at Tali, "What do  _we_ gain from having our creations recognized as equals and having to  _discuss_ terms with  _them_? What is the difference between this and a surrender? We came here to take back our homeworld and reclaim what is truly ours; instead, we want to discuss the terms of how much we get? We lost two thousand ships and over a million people, and this is what we have to show for it?" The admiral's voice had raised several octave,

"Correction, Xen," Tali spoke up, leaning against the table as she glared straight back at the furious admiral, "We've lost  _billions_ of people. Have you forgotten our ancestors? And yes, what  _have_ we got to show for it? A fleet of aging ships? Weakened immune systems? Galactic criticism? Since what happened three hundred years ago, what have we gained? Nothing. Not a thing. We've lost more than we've gained. That's why we are standing here right now. We're going to set the record straight, we're going to fix what we destroyed, we're going to reclaim what we had, and we're going to move forward. We are not going to hold onto bitter, stupid grudges. We're not going to hate the geth, and they are not going to hate us. Move forward means  _move forward_. That's it, Xen."

Xen just scoffed, turning to Makk, "Come now, you're the head of the Conclave. Have the common sense to denounce this! The geth are our enemies!"

Makk shook his head, "I don't believe that anymore. If anything, our psychology was our enemy. We have yet to defeat that."

Xen turned to Gerrel, eyes narrowed, " _Gerrel_. You were the primary advocate for war. How can you turn on your ancestors like this? How can you spit on their memory?"

Gerrel finally shifted his head to look at her, crossing his arms, "My ancestors were morons, Xen, and my ancestors are dead. Their opinions no longer drive my thoughts. I realize now that we were wrong, how wrong we were, and now I must atone for all the lives I've sacrificed to destroy an enemy that was nowhere near as evil as my parents and their parents before them made them out to be. To truly spit on their memory, we would have to continue this war knowing what we did was wrong. I will not allow that to happen, Xen. Neither will the rest of us here."

Tali was initially surprised at Gerrel's sudden change of heart, although it quickly dawned on her why. Gerrel had almost led his people to extinction based on a fragmented and disillusioned history. He had spent his entire life preparing for a war to avenge a people he didn't truly know. He almost destroyed a ship with his niece on it based on a belief that it would be for the greater good. And he almost wiped out their greatest ally based on the ideat that they were a  _threat_.

Everything he believed in had crashed down around him, and all he could do now is  _help_. Help fix what he had broken, bring back what he had taken away, reestablish what his ancestors had disestablished. Gerrel wasn't doing this to save face; he wasn't trying to repair a damaged reputation or save collapsing relationships. He was doing it because it was the right thing to do; and the right thing was to enable their people to have a  _future_.

_All his talk about giving our people a proper home, and he truly meant it. He really did. I can...almost forgive him for what he did. He wasn't evil or arrogant...okay, he was definitely arrogant...but he wasn't a psychopath. He said it time and time again...he never wanted war. He fought this war because he thought it was necessary. And now he knows it was all for nothing. All the blood spilt, all the dead soldiers, all the lost ships, all the misery and hatred our people have endured...all for nothing. All of it over a damn_ _**mistake** _ _._

Xen looked around the room, as if looking for support from anyone else. She was visibly fuming at the prospect of her own people turning against her on a topic such as the geth, and so was Tali, in some respects.  _Back in 2183, I'd be on her side. How things have changed._

She smiled, thinking of Marcus.  _He's changed us all._

Her smile died when Xen shook her head, crossing her arms, "This is...beyond foolish. This is insane. Ludicrous! They are machines, not living creatures! They were built to serve us! It is in their name!"

"And we will continue to aid the creators as we see fit," one of the geth, a red trooper platform naming itself Aristotle, spoke up, its optics tilted to look directly at Xen, "We will provide assistance in basic necessities. We will help build cities and ships. We will help farm, build crops and create a sustainable living environment for all creators. We will help restore Rannoch to its state before the Morning War. And, most importantly of all, we will stand by the creators and fight by their side against the Old Machines. But we will not abide being your slaves anymore. We will aid the creators on equal ground. The Progenitor sacrificed itself to give independence to all geth. If the creators are not prepared to allow us our freedom, then we are prepared to fight the Old Machines without you. This is a peace treaty, not a negotiation."

Tali was surprised at how bluntly the geth had spoken. Legion and Moses had been so frustratingly polite and reserved; geth didn't have emotion at that point, which meant they couldn't get angry, sad or experience happiness. You could insult Legion for hours and the geth would always respond so nicely and politely. But Aristotle...the geth had just said it how it is. Aristotle had laid the terms on the table, and now the quarians had a simple decision to make: take it or leave it. As the leaders of the quarian species, it was their decision.

Including Xen, unfortunately.

Xen chuckled, slamming a fist on the table with surprising ferocity that Tali almost jumped from the sudden movement, "Excuse me, machine? You do not get to talk to me like that. We made you."

"You continue to misunderstand the situation, Admiral Xen," the second geth, another trooper with a white chasis naming itself Caesar and the unofficial chosen "leader" of the geth, spoke in defense of Aristotle, "You, your current generation of creators, did not make us. You did not build us, and you do not own us. Your ancestors did, and they expired three hundred years ago. We have given you our terms: you may choose to do what you like with it, but we suggest a wise decision. The Old Machine threat is ultimately more prevalent, and while we stand here bickering, the galaxy is burning. You have Rannoch, but you cannot hope to keep it while the Old Machines remain."

_I don't get it. They used to speak with such machine-like precision...always with the techicalities and the jargon that non-engineers would trip over themselves trying to comprehend. Now...they talk like any other organic...is this what Legion was just about to experience before it...he...died?_

Before Xen could snap back, Shala stepped forward, holding her hand up to stop Xen from retorting, "The geth are correct, Xen. We are not here to hurl insults. We've all seen the real events that occurred three hundred years ago, and we were in the wrong. We need to focus on moving forward and repairing what we lost," she turned to the geth representatives, "As the representatives of the quarian people, we are ready to accept peace with the geth and begin preparations for war with the Reapers."

Xen snapped to Shala, slamming her fist down once more, "No, we most certainly aren't!"

Gerrel rolled his eyes and stepped forward, "Take a look around you, Xen. Tali, Koris and Raan accept this peace. I'm sure Speaker Vael agrees, yes?" He looked to Makk for confirmation. A slight nod was the response he got and he nodded, turning to Xen, "As do I. We were wrong, Xen. Its time to admit that."

Xen snarled, shaking her head, "There will be no  _peace_ between  _machines_ and  _organics_. And while we stand here arguing that,  _machines_ are wiping out  _organics_."

The third geth, a yellow trooper platform by the name of Baltazar, stepped in, "Your attempts to place us in the same group as the Old Machines is inaccurate, Admiral Xen. The Old Machines wish to wipe out organic life because they believe themselves superior. The geth wish nothing but peace with the creators; we do not view ourselves above or below you. We see ourselves as equals."

" **But you're not!** "Xen snapped, pointing at the geth with an accusing finger, " **You are not our equals and never will b-** "

"Xen, leave," Tali growled, glaring directly at the admiral and interrupting her mid rant.  _I'm done. I'm done with your bullshit, with your destructive policies, with your insane machinations...its over. All of it ends here._ "No more."

Xen looked at her, quaking with anger, "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, you are  _dismissed_ ," she reiterated, fists clenching.  _Leave, Xen. I may not have a shotgun, but I know how to beat the shit out of you._

Xen scoffed, looking at the other admirals. Seeing no support from them, she looked back at Tali, hands falling to her hips, "I will  _not_ be dismissed like a  _child_ before supper, you foolish child! You forget your place!"

"It is you who forgets their place, Xen. I am Chief Admiral," Tali hissed back, her voice gradually getting higher in octave, "And I believe your presence here is no longer befitting the situation, nor is it diplomatically necessary. You have reached the limit of your diplomatic abilities Admiral Xen, and I believe it is time you returned to the  _Moreh_ where you can be more productive."

"I will  _not_!" Xen shouted, "I am an  _admiral_!"

"AND I CAN JUST AS QUICKLY HAVE YOU REMOVED FROM YOUR POSITION!" She snarled, causing Xen to almost jump back, her arms clenching the desk, "Do not tempt me, Xen! You are pushing the boundaries. You either leave now, or I'll have you stripped of your rank and position and I'll give it to someone who'll do as their ordered!" she added with a smile, "Maybe I'll even give it to a  _geth_. How does that sound?"

Xen did nothing but silently fume, the blinking of her mouthpiece showing that she was opening and closing her mouth, but failed to speak. After a few moments of tense silence, Xen turned on the spot and silently stormed out, even her footsteps a mere rhythm of thuds more than actually noise. The door swiftly closed behind her, as if it was just as eager to be rid of her as Tali was. The silence continued, until Makk cleared his throat, talking directly to Caesar, the head of the geth retinue, "So...with that aside, I think we can all agree that peace is what we all want?"

As all quarians nodded, including Tali, Caesar replied, its head tilting up and down in the signature geth imitation of a nod, "That is what all geth have wished for for three hundred years, Creator. As we have said, the creators are the ones with the decision. We have already reached consensus."

Makk turned to the room, looking between the group for a final group of nods. The movement was unnecessary, as they had made it very clear they all agreed, but this time it felt more formal; more official.  _More like a reality._

After everyone had nodded, Tali watched as Makk turned back to Caesar, a smile behind his mask, "Then it is decided. From this moment forward, there will be a permanent ceasefire, all hostilities between our peoples will cease, and the Second Morning War has now concluded."

There was a collective sigh throughout the room as the geth nodded, and Tali smiled.  _We did it. We finally did it. Three hundred years, and its finally over. The nightmare can finally end._

Suddenly, Gerrel spoke up, and all eyes focused on him, "Well, before we sign any kind of treaty to make it official...I...I have a proposal."

Tali frowned, looking between Koris and Shala, asking with a simple to portray her confusion. Shala shook her head, and Koris shrugged, motioning for them to listen to what Gerrel had to say. Makk didn't move, the only movement he made being to tilt his head in Gerrel's direction to pay attention to what he was going to say.  _What proposal? Please don't do anything foolish like messing this up, Gerrel..._

The fourth geth, a blue trooper platform named Pythagoras, responded, "We are listening, Creator Gerrel. What proposal do you wish to bring forth?"

"I know I haven't been the greatest friend to the geth," Gerrel began his response, looking down for a moment as a clear indicator that he was mentally preparing what to say. After a moment, he looked up again, "I've sent many soldiers to their deaths fighting your people. I've lost count of the casualty lists under my operations alone, not including those of my predecessors. I've believed your people evil and in needing of destruction. I disregarded geth life as non-existent, and I've often endorsed Xen's projects to enslave your people in the past. This recent invasion...was of my orchestration. It was under my orders that your spire was destroyed. It was under my orders that your super-dreadnought be destroyed. It was under my orders that your fleet be wiped out while you floated their helplessly. For so long, I've been a menace to your people. I've continued a terrible, horrible tradition of blind hatred, misinformed patriotism and dedication to a people I barely knew. To be honest with you...knowing my ancestors as I do now...I couldn't be more ashamed."

As Gerrel talked, Tali realized one thing. It was in his voice. The croaky nature of it, the stutters between words, the slight shaking of his posture...

_Is he...crying?_

A sniff confirmed it, Gerrel straightening as he continued, "We were the evil ones, truly. While you avoided conflict with us constantly and tried your best to pursue peace with our people, while all we could do is try our best to destroy you. We tried to wipe you out, all while you wanted peace. For this, on behalf of the quarian race, I apologize. We apologize for our attempts to destroy you. We apologize for trying to exterminate your people. We apologize for every wrong ever committed against you by our people. With this in mind, and in a sign of trust between our two peoples, I present my proposal," he takes a deep breath, and nods, "I propose an official alliance between our two peoples. A coalition against the Reaper threat and preservation of the future."

Tali raises her eyebrows, nodding silently to herself.  _I...didn't expect that. A coalition? That's...a fantastic idea, actually. A coalition of Rannoch._

Caesar, Pythagoras, Baltazar and Aristotle simply stand there, looking blankly at the wall; Tali had long identified this as them reaching a consensus with the billions of other geth. Looking behind them, Moses, the geth prime they found on Rannoch, stood against the wall, looking blankly at the ground, clearly also engaged in trying to reach a consensus. Their headflaps occassionally shifted or moved, optics dimmed and platforms otherwise unmoving. Koris turned to Gerrel and nodded in approval, something of which Gerrel turned and acknowledged; a nod of his own. The man almost looked settled now, his back more straightened, as if all the pressure on his shoulders was now released.

_A release of guilt. Venting feels good. I know that just as well as he does._

She nodded to Shala from across the room, he looked apprehensive; she was nervous, that much was obvious, and Tali couldn't help but feel the same nervousness. It was quite possible the geth would reject the proposal, and given the history between their two peoples, they would be fully justified in doing so. Still, Tali had some hope that Legion had set a good example for the geth to follow, and that his absorption into the geth consensus hadn't been in vain.

_Thank you, Legion. Just...thank you._

A few moments later, and all geth looked up, the quarian leaders straightening as they prepared for what came next. Caesar turned to Gerrel and nodded, "We have reached consensus and the geth have decided that a coalition would be everyone's best interests. An alliance between the creators and the geth would be our greatest hope of survival against the Reaper threat."

Shala sighed happily, while Makk was first to speak after the declaration, "We are honoured to be enabled to fight beside the side of our children, and we hope that through adversity on the battlefield the new friendship between our peoples can grow. Given that this coalition would be largely military in nature, I imagine we would be each expected to dedicate military assets to this coalition?"

Moses stepped in, arms at its side as it looked down on the quarian conclave member, forced to crouch due to the height of the roof, "Both sides would be expected to fully dedicate all available military assets. For the geth, that would mean all our ships and troops. For the creators...that would be at least the majority of the Migrant Fleet. A few ships would be left behind to defend Rannoch against aggressors."

Gerrel nodded, "This is fair. After all, the rest of the UGC have dedicated their military strength to this threat, and we should be no different. Unfortunately, the state of our fleet leaves us only at half strength. We've already lost two thousand ships, and our ships are woefully under-equipped compared to your own."

Pythagoras piped in, its electronic warble accentuated by the sound of its headflaps shifting, "We have also reached consensus on that. With your permission admirals, we would like to begin immediately applying upgrades to quarian vessels. For example, we would like to begin with your liveships. We can reinforce them with thicker armor, better shielding and a vaster array of weapons than you currently have equipped. Also, we would like to devote resources to the reconstruction of the super-dreadnought you destroyed."

Gerrel looked between the admirals, all of who nodded in agreement. Makk also nodded his own approval, and soon Gerrel turned back, nodding, "That seems reasonable, and would greatly bolster the effectiveness of our combat forces. And a super-dreadnought would be an invaluable ally, especially as the flagship of our coalition. I also know for a fact that the deployment of geth primes and armatures beside our marines would create a force to be reckoned with on the field."

Tali nods, speaking up for the first time in a while since the meeting started, "Agreed. Considering how many I have encountered, geth primes are excellent as heavy support, and our marines could address issues the primes can't. Armatures are also good mobile turrets. Against husks, they'd be extremely useful."

Moses nods, "These tactics are acceptable. We accept this."

Tali speaks up again, "We can discuss tactics later, however. Right now, I suggest cementing this alliance through a treaty. I also suggest giving this coalition a name," without even thinking, a name comes to mind every easily, "I propose naming it the Rannochian Coalition."

Gerrel clearly approved, "I like it. A coalition of Rannoch. A united front. Its fitting."

Caesar looks between its geth cohorts, before nodding its agreement, "The geth agree. Rannochian Coalition it is. Now, a treaty. We propose calling it the Treaty of Rannoch. All leaders must sign it, including your entire Conclave and Admiralty Board. In the meantime, we can continue to operate side by side. This treaty will not affect our coalition."

Tali nods, "That can be done, but I'm worried about Xen. She's the only admiral not in agreement, and I doubt she will ever go along with this."

Gerrel scoffed, "She won't have a choice."

Caesar shook its head, "There will be no need. We recognize Admiral Xen's reluctance to agree to this peace, and will respect her decision; however, it will not change our agreement. We recommend having this treaty signed at the closest opportunity. The sooner, the better, we hope you agree."

Makk nodded, "I will make sure the Conclave is onboard with this. This coalition will happen, and we will fight the Reapers together when the time comes to do so. It is just a pity the man of the hour couldn't be here to see the fruition of this agreement," Makk turns to Tali, and she could tell his eyebrows were raised.

Caesar turned as well, "We are surprised Shepard-Commander could not attend this meeting. This peace was possible thanks to him."

Tali shrugged, "Captain Shepard apologizes for not being able to attend, but he believed it was our problem to fix and did not wish to get involved. He also had business to attend to on the  _Normandy_. It will be departing shortly. The war does not stop, even for peace."

"The Reapers are a menace," Makk agreed, nodding, "Rest assured, they will be stopped. With a force like the UGC...the largest military force in the galaxy will be brought to bear on the Reapers, and its all thanks to your husband."

Tali nods, sighing. Seeing as her part had been played, and the admirals, Makk and the geth seemed to have reached a decision on their own, she didn't really need to hang around anymore. That, and she really wanted to go back to the  _Normandy. I miss the ship already._

The thought made her smile.  _Not just the Normandy..._

She straightened and nodded to both sides, "Well, I'm glad we could reach a resolution, but I'm afraid I can't hang around for the results. I will return when I can, but for now I must take my leave. I hope you do not mind, ambassadors."

Caesar nodded its head, "The Progenitor spoke highly of you, Creator Shepard. We do not mind."

"We can handle things from here," Makk assured her, "The groundwork has been laid, its just time for some mortar. We will inform you of the results; I doubt it'll be anything other than positive."

Tali nodded, backing away, "Thank you, admirals," then she turned to the geth, nodding again, "Ambassadors," she then turned and left through the main door, twisting to take a left down the corridor. Her thoughts were with the meeting she had, finding herself unable to focus on anything else. That wasn't just  _any_ meeting. They had just ended three hundred years of war, of trivial conflict, of a pathetic feud. Peace had finally been achieved, and Rannoch was once again  _theirs_.

_A home to call ours again. Not a ship falling apart around you. Not a cramped bed in a cramped room surrounded by crates. A world. An entire planet. Our planet. Three centuries, and not one quarian thought we'd be here, in this position. Keelah, our ancestors must be ashamed. Really._

Tali smiled, remembering a mental response she had for that.  _Well, they're dead, and history is history. Nothing but moving forward from here on out._

Confidence entered her step, a brief moment in time. Hope for the future, a hope for a better tomorrow. One they were creating everyday.

But now the one threat that mattered lay ahead.

And Tali was ready to take that threat head on.

**{Loading...}**

_July 22, 2186_

_1729 hours._

_Observation Deck, Quarian Liveship QMFV Shellen, Migrant Fleet, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

He watched the stars twinkling in the distance, contemplating the different worlds they represented and the populations they possessed, trying desperately not to think of how many of those worlds were burning or were under siege. He could see one of Rannoch's moons, the one Tali had identified as being called Nisost, only a few million kilometers away, but it looked large enough that he could simply fly towards it and be there in minutes. His posture was relaxed, his muscles relaxing as his body continued to recover from the burns he suffered on Rannoch's surface. He simply stood there, content, hands braced against the observation window's edge as he watched the occassional quarian or geth ship pass by, whether it be a fighter, frigate, cruiser or liveship. The very thought of them flying by peacefully without a single shot being exchanged never failed to bring a smile to his face.  _Its finally done. Peace...for them at least._

Tali was standing to his left, leaning against a support strut as she too gazed upon the stars, her eyes more focused on said ships passing by. Her eyes were smaller than usual, indicating how tired she was. He noted inwardly that he was just as tired as she was, and that the week's events had really drained him as much as it had her; but it had been all worth it. Her posture was also more relaxed, her arms crossed in a posture of serene calmness. No apprehension. No nervousness. No fiddling with her fingers or getting annoyed over an engineering problem. Just doing nothing worked wonders for the body, apparently.

They had been silent like this for the past twenty minutes. No words exchanged, no hum or even a sniff...just silence. They both needed it. They both envied it. They both wanted and needed it. Silence also gave them time to think, to ponder the future, the present and the past, and to consider issues they hadn't considered before due to...well, the war and everything. It also gave way to darker thoughts, especially for Marcus, but for some reason, the terrors in his mind seemed to leave him be, as if granting him a slight reprieve from the inevitable torment he was bound to endure when the time came once more.

Which is why he didn't dare to close his eyes.

 _If I do, I'll hear him. Harbinger. Taunting me. Shouting at me. Ordering me to submit. I don't have time for that shit._ It's why he dreaded sleep, why the very thought of it brought him little comfort. Once, the prospect of sleep was blissful; now? It brought him only pain.

_**...serve us...** _

It was a mere whisper, but it was enough. His head twitched, as if deflecting the blow of a punch, before his body recovered and realized nothing was there. Harbinger was light years away, and Oblivion was dead. There were no Reapers here.

"Mark?" Tali's voice broke through, smashing his hopes that she hadn't heard him, "Are you okay?" Her voice was a whisper, trying not to completely ruin the tranquility of the moment, but unwilling to remain entirely silent.

He cursed himself.  _Fuck. Quick, divert her attention._

He turned it into a chuckle, a nervous twitch made when something funny suddenly occurs in the mind, "Just thinking how far we've come. Three years...and I never thought I'd be here. Just a routine shakedown run...ha! My ass."

It worked. Tali quietly laughed in response, grinning behind her mask, "A quarian wife, a turian brother, a crew full of aliens, battling an army of nightmares, uniting two species who hate each other, curing another and becoming the leader of a galactic alliance? What's not routine about that?"

"If that's considered routine, then I can't wait to see the maiden voyage," they both laughed as a result, and silence fell again for a few moments. He spoke again, this time his tone a mixture of light and serious, "Wouldn't it trade it for anything, though. These three years, I mean."

"Why?" Tali spoke, mischief in her voice, "You like people wanting you dead all day, every day?"

He scoffed, shaking his head, "You know what I mean. You guys. The  _Normandy_. The time we've had. The...adventures, if you want to get all corny. Not to sound mawkish, but...these times we've had have been the best of my life. If I could trade it for a life without Reapers and just me, my rifle, my armor and my old squad...I wouldn't. I know it sounds ludicrous, but I...prefer this life."

Tali nodded, "I can understand that. I certainly wasn't expecting my pilgrimage to result in...this," she motioned to the ships gliding by outside, "Over the homeworld, allied with what I'd been brought up to believe were my worst enemy. Looking back...I was such a naive child."

"We all were, really," Marcus argued, "I mean...back then, I was fresh off my 'heroism' at Elysium. Garrus still thought a bullet would solve all problems, Kaidan believed protocol was everything, Joker thought I was the Grinch, Wrex hated his people and thought we were all annoying, Liara was a nervous wreck...we've al changed, significantly. We're not the same people we were in 2183. Now you're an admiral, I'm the leader of the UGC, Wrex is the leader of the krogan, Garrus is a military advisor to the Primarch, Kaidan probably breaks protocol more often than I do and Liara is the head of the largest information network in the galaxy. Now, what part of that seems normal to you?"

Tali shrugged, straightening up as she moved over to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, "Not a bit of it. But like you said...wouldn't trade it for anything."

Marcus raised his arm and draped it over her shoulders, pulling her into his side, "Yeah..."

Silence again, this time for five minutes, both of them thinking of what to say...thinking of what  _needed_ to be said.

They didn't get very far before a door at the end of the corridor opened, and two figures walked inside. Marcus and Tali craned their heads to see who it was, and turned fully when they realized who it was. Waving, they watched as Kal and Madi, absent of their weapons and armor, noticed and walked towards them, waving in return. When they arrived, Marcus greeted the two with the usual greeting, "Kal, Madi. Haven't seen you since the battle on Rannoch. How's the post-battle handling for you?"

Madi shrugged, "Going well enough. Still trying to get used to this all. I can't believe its finally over. Did the admirals really pass it?"

Tali answered, given that Marcus wasn't present for the meeting, and was therefore unaware of the circumstances behind any decision, "We will have to wait a few days for the Conclave to pass the treaty, but given what Makk said about where they stand, it looks like the wind is blowing in a very positive direction. If anything, I think you can expect the treaty to be signed fully by the end of the week. Rannoch is officially ours again, and the geth our allies."

"Keelah..." Madi sighed, shaking her head, completely overwhelmed by the moment. Marcus couldn't blame her; this was pretty big news, "...I simply can't believe it. You'd think this would be something they write in fantasy novels, not history...it's actually happening. Rannoch...I can't wait to see it again. Once this war is over, of course."

Tali nodded, "Believe me, I have every intention of returning myself. Mark and I are planning to build a house on Rannoch when this is all over. Our little reward for ending this conflict."

"Hey, let's not get  _too_  far ahead," Marcus jested, a smirk on his face, "Check the corpses are cold before you start making plans, Tali."

Kal shook his head, "What's wrong with making plans when the corpses are warm, Shepard? If the enemy see you making plans for an aftermath, they might just shit themselves a bit more. It shows you're confident of the outcome."

"An over-confident opponent is a weak opponent, Kal," Marcus retorted, "Over-confidence makes commanders too content with their tactics. They forget to adapt. They forget to be adaptive. As the old saying goes, 'A confident general is often less effective than a cautious general.' Plan for the aftermath when the aftermath comes Reegar, not before."

Kal just shrugged, "A good philosophy to live by, Shepard," he looked at Madi, and Marcus would be blind to not notice the smile behind his mask, "But I plan for the aftermath beforehand. Gives me something to fight for."

Marcus creased his eyebrows, and finally nodded, "That's something we can both understand."

Madi spoke up next, looking between them and the door opposite them, "So what are you waiting for? We're here to speak with Admiral Gerrel about force deployments."

"We're here for the admirals as well," Marcus replied, "Apparently Koris, Gerrel, Shala and Meru are discussing with the geth about future plans, as well. You'd think the treaty had been signed already, the way they're acting."

Tali rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder, "We're excited, Mark. Leave us be."

He smiled at her, kissing the top of her hood, "I get it. You need your moments of excitement. Still, those moments could stand to hurry up, if you ask me. Tali still hasn't told me why she's waiting for them."

Madi cocked her head at him, "You don't wish to speak with them?"

Marcus shook his head, "There's nothing really to talk about; all the pieces are set, and there's a war to be fought. But Tali insisted, especially that I be here. She won't say why, though."

"That's for you to find out," Tali teased, laughing, "I have my reasons. This isn't just a social call."

"Same for us, I'm afraid," Kal stated. For a moment, Kal and Madi looked at each other, before looking back at Marcus, with Kal speaking once more, "Shepard, we're afraid we won't be remaining on the  _Normandy_. Duty calls, and our people need us. Besides, we wouldn't be much use to you anyway. I think a giant geth prime makes up for that, by far."

Marcus frowned, "I can understand you guys not joining us on the  _Normandy_ , but...what do you mean a 'geth prime'? What geth prime?"

"You didn't hear?" Marcus shook his head, and Kal chuckled, continuing, "Moses put forward a request to join the crew of the  _Normandy_ to act as Legion's replacement. Said it wished to be 'Tali's bodyguard' or something."

Tali snorted, taken aback by the comment, "Wait, my 'bodyguard'? Why would Moses want to be my bodyguard? What makes me so special?"

"Something about how you were the first quarian to accept Legion as an ally, and that makes you special to the geth," Kal shrugged, "Somekind of gratitude thing, I guess. All I know is that Moses is adamant in being your bodyguard, and won't take no for answer. He's just waiting for Marcus' permission."

"A walking death machine for protection?" Marcus looked at Tali, frowning, "What are you complaining about? As far as I'm concerned, Moses is welcome to join us. Pity you can't join us, though."

Madi nodded, "It was a difficult decision for both of us, but we felt it was ultimately for the best."

Kal was quick to but in, holding his hand up to placate a retort Marcus never planned to make, "We're not going to just sit down and do nothing, though. With this new alliance in the works, its only a matter of time before we join the UGC. And Madi and I plan to do our part. Heard of the N7 Special Operations Group?"

Marcus shook his head, crossing his arms as both he and Tali stood up, "Yeah. Hackett decided it would be good for morale if specialists from across numerous species were allowed to become N7s and were deployed across the galaxy to perform numerous operations against Reaper and Cerberus forces. They're supposed to be the best of the best taking on the difficult tasks normal soldiers can't. I heard they're working alongside the STG as part of Operation: Hornet's Nest at current. Attacking conversion centers. Sabotaging Cerberus vessels or capturing them. Detonating nuclear bombs behind Reaper lines. I hear they're a respectable group."

Kal nodded, "Which is why we want to sign up. We don't want to just be marines dropped on some worlds to perform patrols or guard duty. We want to be in the thick of it. Performing the dangerous missions others can't. Unfortunately, while we are special forces, the Skylords aren't a Tier 1 special forces group; which apparently is the requirement for getting into the SOG."

Marcus held his hand up, staying the question that came next, "Say no more. I'll forward Hackett my recommendation as soon as possible. My squad only recruits the best, and Hackett will know that. You'll get in, I promise. I'm just glad you guys chose to make a difference. Although, I hope you guys realized just what you'll be getting into. They only accept Tier 1 for a reason; the missions they send you on are classified as highly dangerous. You could get captured, indoctrinated, killed...any number of things can happen. The time might come that you may even have to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of duty," he looked between them, "Are you prepared for that?"

Kal and Madi looked at each other, nodded, and looked back, "We've accepted that for awhile, Shepard. We didn't reach this decision lightly. We know the risks that come with this kind of dedication, and we're prepared to make the sacrifices necessary. We've...come to accept that we might not live to see the next day. That's war."

Madi nodded, "But if we're going to die, it isn't going to be from a Reaper surprise attack; we want to be doing the surprising. If that means sending some Reapers to hell or getting vengeance for the  _Idenna_ , we're both prepared for that."

Marcus smiled, "Well...good on you. You're both fantastic soldiers, and I know you'll do the service proud. Just be sure to give 'em hell."

Kal nods, hands clasping behind his back, "Do you know when the UGC task force will arrive?"

"ETA is six days, give or take," Marcus stated firmly, "Hackett said he was very eager to meet the UGC's latest members, and despite his age, I could definitely tell he was excited. You have no idea what a boon a geth-quarian alliance will be to this UGC. We've been itching for a real game changer, and you guys are it. The krogan are great ground troops, but as it stands...we need ships. A lot of them. And advanced firepower. Something both races bring to the table," he reached a realization, sighing with a ghost of a smile, "Ah...you guys plan on leaving with the task force."

Madi shrugged, "That's the idea. The longer we remain on the  _Normandy_ , the less we'll want to leave."

"No, I understand. You do what you have to do," just after he finished speaking, the door could be heard opening, and all four of them turned to watch as the quarian admirals filed out of the room. He noticed Tali tense up upon seeing Meru among them, but chose to let her deal with it.  _Still though...she hasn't exactly shown that much excitement at the prospect of her mother's survival. She seems...cold, actually. Just like her indifference to Rael, really._

"Well, we better go," Kal announced, straightening, "Lots to do to prepare before the task force arrives. Going to see how many of my men wish to join us. I'm sure there are a few who'd like to kick some ass."

Marcus straightened himself in return, snapping a quick salute, "It was an honor having you under my command, Kal'Reegar. You're a credit to the uniform...metaphorically speaking." He added the last bit with a chuckle.

Kal replied in kind, snapping a salute and chuckling in return, "The honor was all mine, Shepard. I just wanted to see what Tali was raving about," he sighed, "She was far from wrong."

Tali shook Madi's hand, "You're a good match for Kal, Madi. I've seen the way he looks at you...you two are perfect for each other. You'll need each other's strength to face the trials to come."

Madi nodded, "You too, Tali. Shepard needs you now more than ever, especially with an entire galaxy resting on his shoulders. You take care of him. Me? I've just got to watch Kal's back. You've got to share the weight of trillions of people."

Tali nodded, "And we'll both do it gladly, no?"

Madi laughed, "Indeed we will."

Kal turned to Tali, smiling, "Ma'am."

Tali rolled her eyes, looking at him, "You know what I'm going to say."

Kal didn't need to have his mask off for Marcus to tell he was smiling, "And you know I'll work on it."

A moment later, and Kal and Madi had turned and walked away, intercepting Gerrel as he prepared to leave. A few words were exchanged, and Gerrel signalled for them to follow him. The trio walked down the corridor and disappeared around the corner, towards their own future.

Marcus didn't fail to notice Tali's dejected look, but Marcus squeezed her shoulder, drawing her attention to him, "They'll be okay. They're a tough bunch."

Tali sighed, "I know. But I also know Kal. He's just like you; he's crazy."

Marcus chuckled, "Well, if he's anything like me, he won't just stay down and let the enemy kill him. With Madi at his side, he'll be fine," he looked up, noticing Koris, pointing to her, "Well, there's Koris. Better get to him before he leaves."

He watched Tali's head shoot up and nod, grabbing his hand as they approached Koris. Marcus sighed inwardly, rolling his eyes.  _No idea why she can't just tell me why we're here. Why is it such a big secret?_

Thankfully, Koris noticed them as he turned on the spot, nodding at them, hands clasped behind his back professionally, always giving off the air of being military even though he'd never spent a minute in the institution, "Ah, Tali. Marcus. I was wondering when you were going to speak with me. You made it seem urgent."

_We did?_

Tali replied first, "Yes, well that's the part we need to discuss. You see admiral, I'm not staying. I will be leaving on the  _Normandy_ when the time comes, and with the quarians and geth now allied and Rannoch back in our hands, my job is finished here. The quarian people must decide their future now, and Marcus will need me in the adversaries that come. However, as chief admiral, I cannot just leave; which is why I'm resigning."

Marcus raised his eyebrows at her.  _Seriously?_

Koris seemed just as surprised, but not for the same reasons, "Resigning? But who will take your place?"

Tali scratched the back of her hood awkwardly, looking directly at the admiral, "Well, that's why I'm here...talking to you."

_Oh..._

Koris looked between the two of them, Marcus just shrugging in a 'hey, this wasn't my idea' kind of way. Koris was flabbergasted to say the least at the unannounced promotion, "Me? As chief admiral? But...I am the head of the Civilian Fleet. Why not Gerrel? Would he not be better suited to the task?"

"Given the new role the Migrant Fleet will be serving, Gerrel will be busy leading our fleets in combat. Also, pre-imposed names such as 'Civilian Fleet' will no longer exist," Tali dictated, "All our civilians will be moved to the surface of Rannoch and all ships repurposed entirely as warships. Any nutrient vats we have will be moved to the surface as well. Koris, as of now, the Admiralty Board is exactly as its concept proposes; a military entity. The Conclave will remain on Rannoch to govern our new civilization and coordinate with the geth, while the admiralty board is engaged in combat. Gerrel will be promoted to Fleet Admiral of the Navy, while you will take my position as former chief admiral, which has been repurposed as Vice Admiral of the Navy," Tali finished explaining, "To put it simply, you will co-lead our fleets with Gerrel and a geth admiral named Themistocles. As for Shala and Xen...their positions will be decided by people other than me."

"I see. You've thought this out well," Koris declared, taking a deep breath. He took a few seconds to think before finally nodding, "Well, I am honored by your decision to promote me, and in light of recent events, I humbly accept. I cannot abide sitting around while the Reapers continue to be a threat. Our people may have a homeworld again, but it is the job of people such as us to protect that investment. I look forward to working with Gerrel planning to kill enemies other than the geth."

Tali bowed before him, and he bowed in return, "Thank you, Admiral Koris. I chose you because I trust you deserve the position. I have no doubt you won't disappoint."

Marcus did not fail to notice her attention switch to Meru, and her joyful demeanour seemed to drop, "Now, if you'll excuse me Admiral Koris, I've got another promotion to make..."

He did not fail to notice her tone.  _This one more reluctant, I imagine._

Apparently Koris didn't either, "I understand. Good day to you, Admiral Shepard. Keelah Re'lai."

Marcus and Tali replied in unison, "Keelah Re'lai." Koris took his leave, walking away, while Tali and Marcus approached Meru slowly, taking note that she was talking with a female quarian conclave member.

They waited a few seconds for Meru to take notice. Meru's back was toward them, her arms moving animatedly and she seemed to describe something to the female quarian. Afterwards, the female quarian laughed quite loudly, but quickly composed herself, pointing to Marcus and Tali behind her. Meru laughed in return, sounding genuinely happy.  _Almost like there was nothing wrong at all..._

He looked at Tali, taking note of her posture. There was nothing. No enthusiasm, no happiness, no anger, no sadness. There was nothing. Completely indifferent. This woman was her mother, and yet Tali made you think she was Xen by the way she was acting.

_What the hell happened between them?_

Meru turned and the shaking in her body subsided when she noticed Tali, her laughing dying immediately. Her eyes widened, indicating her smile had fallen from her face. For the longest moment, really just four seconds, she just stared at Tali, the other female quarian taking her leave quietly and unnoticed by all parties except Marcus. The tension was so thick it could be a jawbreaker.

_What the hell is going on?_

"Tali," Meru began, "I just wanted to-"

Tali broke in, interrupting her mother, "You've been promoted to admiral, Meru. Given the changing priorities of the Migrant Fleet, just having five admirals is no longer enough, and not even that now; I'm resigning my position to Koris, so you'll have to fill the gap."

Meru was surprised, "I...thank you, Tali. I'm honoured."

"Good," Tali turned to Marcus, putting on a fake smile, "Let's go."

Just as Tali turned to leave however, grabbing Marcus' hand, Meru grabbed hold of Tali's arm, glaring at her, "Please. Talk to me, Tali."

There was a growl, taking both Meru and even Marcus aback with its ferocity. Tali spun on the spot, letting go of Marcus' hand and tearing Meru's hand from her arm as she shook a pointed finger infront of Meru's faceplate, "I've tried! Keelah, I've tried! You've ignored me at each turn! You've refused to even talk to me! I don't care what your excuses are, and I don't care what you reasons were. I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, that's all in the past. What matters now is what I'm going to do with my life. And its not going to revolve around you trying to control it!"

Meru shook her head, looking defeated after Tali's verbal assault, "I'm sorry...I wanted to be a good mother, I wanted to...I didn't know how..."

"Well, its a shame you turned up late to the party, isn't it?" Tali sarcastically drawled, "No, you had to run off and play Shadow Broker for over a decade. You had to go pretend to be something you aren't, and the only time you initiate contact is when I physically  _find you._ Like I said, I don't care anymore. I know who I am. I'm Tali'Shepard vas Normandy...the wife of Marcus Shepard, chief engineer of the  _Normandy_ , former admiral of the Migrant Fleet. You...well, now you're an admiral. So I guess that's a start, hey Meru?"

Meru didn't even reply to Tali's attack, allowing her daughter to fume. Marcus simply let it all happen, allowing Tali to vent.

After a while, Tali spoke again, her voice lower but nowhere near less venomous, "I don't know who you are. I don't. Maybe we'll talk again someday. Maybe oneday I'll let you into my life again. My right now, you're just a stranger. Today, you're a stranger who I just promoted to admiral. Tomorrow? I don't know. Perhaps oneday you'll be my mother again. But until then...you've got to convince me you're worth my time. Because you know what?" she turned, giving a final parting sentence, "Rael tried to control my life, and failed. Learn from his mistakes. He admitted to his faults in the end. Maybe you can get your reconciliation too."

Meru just nodded meekly, giving no response. Marcus just shook his head at the pathetic sight.

Finally, Tali's tone took on...a sadder tone, surprising Marcus, "Goodbye, Meru."

And just like that, Tali left, walking off down the corridor. Marcus gave Meru a final glance before taking off after his wife, catching up to her in a few quick strides. He formulated in his mind what he planned to say, licking his lips, "Um...you going to tell me what that was about?"

A sigh. "Later, Mark," she replied, "I just...need to get away from her. From all of this. I need time to think, okay? Then we'll talk about it."

He nodded, understanding, "Okay. Later then. Let's just get back to the  _Normandy_."

Tali nodded, "I'm right behind you."

And so that door at the end of the corridor opened, and onward they walked to the future.

**"That wasn't the last time I saw Meru...but it was the last time I saw the stranger."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"She's changed?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"She...did. She's no longer with us. She died many years ago."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"So it was Tali who proposed the Rannochian Coalition. So what happened next?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, next, we had some final goodbyes to offer...including our own child."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**Author's Notes:** _

_**THE COLE TRAIN IS BACK, BABY!** _

_**Did ya miss me?** _

_**Yeah, I've been on hiatus for a while, but that was largely because Year 12 was seriously starting to screw me over, and I had to make a decision to shelve the fanfic for the rest of the year. Rest assured however, I am back, but this does not mean...yet...that there will be regular updates. I only just the motivation to finish this chapter. This was intended to be the final chapter of the Quarian-Geth arc, but it ended up being longer than I thought, so I split this chapter into two parts: the last part will likely be shorter, and after that, the Quarian-Geth arc is done and dusted.** _

_**Well, my exams are coming up and I'll be officially finished next week. After that, I'll be going to schoolies for two weeks, so I'll be back by the end of December at most. So you can expect more updates after that. Until then...any updates before then we'll be out of chance, not surety.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	58. Young Ones Stay Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hackett arrives to facilitate the Rannochian Coalition's membership in the UGC. Shepard and Tali make a difficult decision to leave someone they care about behind.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR:**

**YOUNG ONES STAY BEHIND**

_July 28, 2186_

_1203 hours._

_Main Bridge, Kilimanjaro-Class Dreadnought SSV McKinley HA-6, En Route for Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett, Commander Ricky Landman._

"Bring her in, nice and steady. One half speed," Hackett ordered, watching as the  _McKinley_ , and the rest of task group  _Zealot_ , dropped out of FTL, small blinks of light as sixteen ships seemingly appeared out of nowhere, blue flashes dissipating into the black void of space. Hackett stood on the bridge of the  _McKinley_ , hands clasped behind his back as he watched through the viewscreen as their task group was greeted by the sight of Rannoch, an almost clear mirror image of Earth, orbitted by its four moons and the largest composition of ships the galaxy had ever seen. Hackett felt himself taking a deep breath at the sight of it all. Geth ships flying in formation, quarian vessels intermixed among them, while the large forms of liveships and dreadnoughts were almost picked out amongst the entanglement.

"The man never fails to impress, sir," his XO, Commander Ricky Landman, stated. The man was of brown hair, his eyes a bright hazel and skin of fair complexion. He was not a well built man, his shoulders of reasonable size, but his uniform seeming to hug the rest of his body quite tightly. His composure was not authoritarian, which likely contributed to his inability to reach or accept the rank of captain; Hackett knew the man had received numerous promotions, but he had turned down each and every one. Hackett told Landman he would have to move on eventually, but Ricky's response simply was, 'The  _McKinley_ is my home and will be for as long as it will have me.' Despite all of this, Landman never failed in his duty as an XO, and followed orders to the letter. He couldn't have asked for a more competent XO, "I'd say that spiderweb of ships over there is proof enough."

 _The man gets results. Its why he's in charge of this whole movement. Of the UGC. He's the only one capable of getting any of this done._ Hackett nodded, noting Landman's observation, "Honestly, I never thought he'd top curing the genophage. Welcome to the next step of the UGC, Commander. This will be a huge boon for the UGC and the galaxy in general. We're creating a thunderstorm. We've got the clouds and the rain, here comes the thunder," he turned to his communications officer, nodding, "Contact the  _Marathon_ , tell them we've arrived." Hackett had made a heavy gamble sacrificing thirteen stealth frigates to Marcus' war effort, and he was glad it had paid off. Unfortunately, it was time to find out just how many stealth frigates they had left, and how many men.

_Alot of troops were committed to this._

"Sir, we've established a line to the  _Marathon_ ," his comms officer replied, "Patching him through, sir."

"This is Captain Carmine Del Toro of the SSV  _Marathon_ ," the captain replied, an image of the  _Marathon_ 's cockpit appearing in view, the captain standing in the middle of the main deck, "You sure took your time, Admiral. We were beginning to feel lonely with all these quarians and geth mingling about."

 _Lonely. Doesn't sound good._ Hackett gave a quick nod, "It took time to round up the ships we could. You'd be surprised at how scarce they are these days." He wasn't wrong. The  _McKinley_ had brought twelve salarian  _Galisus_ -Class troop transports with them, along with four  _Warsaw_ -Class light frigates as escort, two flanking each side. The  _Warsaw_ -class frigates were very easy to acquire, as there were so many of them as to make four being used almost inconsequential; not to mention they were easy to replace. The transports however really took some pulling with the Union brass, but they eventually gave in when they found out said transports would be coming back with a surplus of fresh quarian and geth troops, and then some; no doubt the geth would want to use their own troop transports as well. Suffice to say, they were more than willing after finding out about that, "How many ships did we lose?"

Del Toro smiled, "Not a single one, Admiral. Even with the Reaper upgrades, the geth still couldn't see us with our stealth drives activated. The most heat we got was the  _Marathon_ taking on a geth cruiser...which we destroyed, mind you."

Hackett had to admit he was surprised at that, "And our ground forces?"

Del Toro's small vanished, "That...they were not as lucky. The 82nd Heavy Artillery Division got out untouched, but the entire 8th Blackwatch Company was wiped out, and the 7th Marines Battalion have sustained 94 percent casualties. The 45th Mechanized Regiment and 39th Mechanized Infantry Regiment sustained major casualties. The 7th Infiltration Company sustained minor losses, and the krogan lost about half their men. Lieutenant Colonel Cameron is KIA, and Major Chei Tou has taken command of what's left of his battalion. Colonel Durand is also down with severe injuries; the doctors say she will lose her entire right leg, and that a bullet has punctured her cheek; its not likely she will return to service for several months. Its a fairly grim picture, Admiral."

"Jesus Christ," he heard Landman almost whisper to himself.

Hackett nodded, "I will make sure the brass inform Cameron's family, as well as those of the men that were lost, of their deaths. As for the remainder...remind them of their comrade's sacrifice and tell them their deaths were not in vain. They died for the ultimate cause."

"A consolation they are apparently already telling each other, Admiral," Captain Del Toro countered, "But I will make sure its hammered in. If the UGC wishes us back, all thirteen ships, as well as the  _Course Divided_ , are ready to return to service."

Hackett nodded, "You are welcome back. We'll be sure to keep you busy, Captain Del Toro," after a moment, he spoke again, "Inform Captain Shepard that I will be docking with the  _Normandy_ very soon. I expect to see him immediately. We have much to discuss."

Captain Del Toro nodded, and then nodded to his comms officer, "I'll be sure to pass on the word, Admiral. Del Toro out." With that, the screen went blank again, switching back to the view before them. Hackett exhaled deeply, exchanging a glance with his XO as he retreated to his command chair, grasping the edges of it firmly in his grasp. Their casualties on the ground had been substantial, but their victory in the end had been absolute. Whatever the cost, it had been worth it.  _I just hope the rest of the UGC leadership agrees with that perspective. Many won't._

He removed his cap, scratching his scalp before allowing the cap to firmly rest on his head once more, turning to his navigation officer, "Navigation, what's our ETA to the  _Normandy_?"

The navigation officer's response was quick and precise, "Seven minutes, Admiral."

He nodded, "Very good. Tell Lieutenant Ford to forego the usual marine escort. I won't be needing it."

Landman was quick to object, ever the man of protocol, "Sir, those regulations are there for a reason. Your safety is paramount."

Hackett sighed, rubbing his temples, "And how much danger do you think I'll be in on the  _Normandy_? My safety will be absolute. Now, as I ordered, tell Ford and his men to stand down."

Landman exhaled deeply, but bit his lower lip, holding back any further objection he might have had, "Understood sir," he turned to the comms officer, "You heard the Admiral, comms. Relay the orders."

Hackett spent the next six minutes in complete silence, contemplating all that had happened so far, all they had done. What they'd accomplished, what they had lost. He remembered the losses they had suffered when the Reapers attacked Earth, how much the turians had lost at Palaven. Cerberus' movements and repeated attempts to halt their success. The construction of the Crucible. The curing of the genophage. The attempted coup on the Citadel and the death of Udina, a man he never liked to begin with. And now this. Ever since Marcus had left for Rannoch, Hackett had been left to effectively run the UGC and their military operations.

It hadn't been easy. The war had been taking its toll on the galactic economy since it began, but now it was only getting worse. With the Aethon cluster declared a mandatory exclusion zone and Irune effectively under Reaper control, the Vol Protectorate was in ruins and, as a result, the pillars of galactic commerce were beginning to crumble. The Citadel Stock Exchange had come close to collapsing just a few days ago, with spending reaching an all time high, but enough being returned to keep a balance. Military spending for all governments were through the roof, with an estimated 8 trillion credits spent on the Alliance military alone. Many industries, such as film, agriculture and retail, were entering their own miniture depressions, and Zakera Ward and Tayseri Ward were quickly becoming ghost towns with the amount of businesses simply packing up and leaving. The smarter ones left and moved to Shalta Ward, which was the most wealthy ward to begin with.

The volus were struggling to keep the economy on its feet, but the Reaper War simply wasn't allowing it. And with colony after colony falling...the UGC was going to have to resort to illegal collection of resources or wartime rationing to keep funds for the Crucible rolling.  _The only device that matters. Soon, we won't even have the money to replace the ships we lose..._

The war itself wasn't doing any better either, but that didn't mean they had no victories. The Reapers had launched their first incursion into the Annos Basin on July 9. A small force; five destroyers and four  _Scarab_ -class carriers, launched an assault on Mannovai, where they attempted to quickly wipe out their comm buoy network before they could call for help. Unfortunately for the Reapers, the STG already had a plan in motion, Operation: Iron Curtain, where they had been preparing for Reaper invasion for over a month.

Because of this, early warning detection quantum nets had detected the Reaper advance from systems away, and allowed the Union to mobilize the Fifth and Ninth fleets in response to the threat. Also part of the plan was the installment of ground-based surface-to-orbit thanix cannons, which had an operational range of seven million kilometers. This, along with a field of thermonuclear mines that orbitted the planet, made a perfect defense. When the Reapers attempted to land, the initial ranks of mines destroyed four destroyers and one of the carriers. The thanix cannons opened fire and destroyed two more carriers, whilst the salarian fleets came in from behind and wiped out the remaining forces. The Battle of Mannovai, as it has become known, saw the first triumphant tactical engagement against Reaper forces. While Operation: Iron Curtain was initially classified to all but the highest of Union personnel, the STG were forced to disclose its existence after the battle, although the details were kept secret so as to not fall into the hands of the Reapers or Cerberus. But the salarians now knew the Reapers were coming, and the Reapers now knew what they faced; next time would be worse.

Elsewhere, Operation: Hornet's Nest was in full swing. Proposed and designed by the STG, SIA and ISP (Intelligence Services of Palaven), Operation: Hornet's Nest was a plan to implement cyberwarfare, guerilla warfare tactics and surgical deployment in concentrated doses to devastate Reaper conversion centers, limit the amount of troops they can produce, as well as to destroy Reapers using a range of means including smuggling nuclear or antimatter warheads on board stationary Reaper vessels (codenamed Operation: Hardlight), liberating or bombing conversion centers (Operation: Mercury) and luring Reaper forces into traps in small numbers where they can be picked off (Operation: Byzantium). Overall, the operation was proving to be a success, as the ultimate goal wasn't to inflict major losses on the Reapers, only to hamper their progress; it was a delaying action, nothing more.

To top it off, Anderson had contacted Hackett from Earth using the QEC device he found to tell him the resistance was uniting and converging on London; apparently Harbinger was present, and wherever that Reaper was, things were going down. Anderson said they would set up a network of operating bases in and around London where they would bunker down until reinforcements from the UGC arrived with the Crucible. Which, at this point, seemed to be an eternity away.

_Having geth will certainly speed up the process, however..._

"Sir," his navigation officer spoke, breaking through his thoughts, "We're one minute out. Captain Shepard said he's expecting you."

 _Excellent._ "Understood. I will head for the airlock. Commander Landman, you have the deck," he stood up and quickly saluted the commander, of which Landman replied in kind. With those formalities addressed, he turned on the spot and left the bridge, approaching the airlock quickly and quietly, attempting to remain out of the way of all the crew members moving about the corridors. They saluted him as they walked by, and instead of returning said salutes, he merely nodded, moving with his hands clasped behind his back. He walked past a pair of engineers crouched before a open piece of wall, the panelling that covered it resting on the wall beside them as they used their omni-tools to run their maintenance. He paid them no mind, allowing them to carry on with their duty, this time saluting properly as a sextet of marines, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts, a thin sweatshirt and a simple regulation SAMC cap, ran by, their sergeant chanting to them as they jogged, likely running their usual drill. As the sergeant ran by, he saluted, before continuing his chant, "And when I die, don't lie on me. Pick up my rifle and fire some for me." He smiled as the marines repeated the chant, their shouts dissipating as they got further away.

He finally reached the airlock, feeling the ship shudder slightly as it connected to the  _Normandy_. The ship's VI, Eastwood, spoke, its dull monotone announcing their arrival, "Docking process...complete. The commanding officer stands relieved. XO Landman has the deck." Hackett stood into the airlock, waiting for the decontamination process to complete, thoughts ticking through his mind.

_We're working this man over the clock, but he never complains. The SAMC could do with more marines like that._

Finally, the decon process finished, and the opposite airlock opened, and Hackett stepped through.

Greeting him was not an unpleasant sight, but not one he expected. Infront was Shepard himself, the man dressed in the Alliance regs he seems intent on never wearing, the rank of captain stamped into the left breast and shoulders of the uniform. The man had shaved recently, with his beard shortened to mere heavy stubble. Hackett would have commented on how his beard wasn't in line with military regulations, but given how much the man had done? He wasn't going to chastize him on a beard that was a few inches too long. As for everything else, the man looked like he had showered recently, with his hair glistening with the glow of hair that was still damp. Upon seeing Hackett, he stamped his foot, and saluted, "Admiral on deck!"

More foot stomps, and Hackett turned to see Keeling, James, Kaidan, Cortez, Traynor and the rest of the ship's CIC crew salute back, all of them lined along the flight deck. Hackett returned to the salute, before addressing the other people in the room.

He had been hoping to speak with them, but he didn't think the Admiralty Board would be present. Standing on the far left was Admiral Han'Gerrel, the man's posture similar to Hackett's own, and favoured, currently. He met Hackett's gaze and nodded, and Hackett immediately knew this quarian to be the leader of the Heavy Fleet...and the man responsible for pissing off many turian prefects.  _The turians are not a fan of this man, but I can at least respect a fellow admiral._

Next to him, on his right, was Admiral Zaal'Koris, the man adopting a similar position as Gerrel, but not as much emphasis placed on it. His head was held high though, and his chest was pumped out in a gesture Hackett could only describe as pride. Beside Koris was Admiral Shala'Raan, the female dwarfed in comparison to her male counterparts, but every bit imposing as a presence; she nodded at Hackett, but otherwise let her hands hang at her sides, alot less formal than her other counterparts. And beside her, finally, was Admiral Tali'Shepard, and member of Marcus' squad, who had hands clasped behind her back just like Koris and Gerrel, adopting the formal posture of her two compatriots. Oddly enough, Admiral Daro'Xen was not present.

And finally, to Tali's immediate right, two geth troopers: one with a white chasis and another with a black chasis. Neither of them he identified, although he knew they were the geth representatives almost immediately.  _Hard to imagine another reason why they're here._

Hackett moved forward, holding out his hand as he accepted Marcus', shaking it firmly, "Captain. I wasn't expecting the full greeting party. You needn't have bothered."

Marcus just shrugged, pulling his hand back, "You still outrank me, Admiral. The formality was a necessity on my part. As for our accompaniment..." he turned to motion to the admirals and geth before them, before he turned his head to face Hackett once more, "You'll be happy to know the Conclave passed the vote. It was a 9:1 vote. Close to unanimous. The Rannochian Coalition is officially a reality, and the quarians and geth are ready to join the UGC and fight the Reapers."

"The Rannochian Coalition?" Hackett asked, raising an eyebrow, "I gather that's what you've chosen to name this alliance. Appears fitting."

Koris was next to step in, "We have not met before, Admiral Hackett. I am Admiral Koris," he held out his hand, and Hackett shook it, "I was the former admiral of the Civilian Fleet and now, thanks to Admiral Shepard, a Fleet Admiral in the navy of Rannoch. Gathering that we will likely be talking battle tactics, I see it only fair we get acquainted."

Hackett nodded, "So I assume you've already decided what forces you'll be devoting?"

Gerrel scoffed, gathering the attention of all those in the room, "We're sending in every military asset we have. Civilians who do not wish to fight will be left on Rannoch to help begin settlement where they can remain safe and look after our children, while those who wish to fight and are already in the military, will join the war. The geth are already working with us to prepare all our ships for combat. As of now, the Migrant Fleet is no more. The Rannochian Coalition Armed Forces is its new name; and the geth are part of it."

The white geth spoke up, nodding, "Creator Han'Gerrel is correct. With old greviances settled, we are ready to mobilize. All geth platforms are equipped for combat, but we will leave two million behind to help the creators with reconstruction efforts. The rest of our troops will join the UGC."

Hackett nodded, "And how many troops are we talking?"

Gerrel butted in, talking, "We have a force of around one million marines, and that's not including any new recruits. You already know our fleet strength; we'll have 48,000 warships by the end of next month if we keep working at the rate we're going. As for the geth..."

The black geth finished for him, "...we can have six billion troops assembled and ready for deployment within the first month. The other five in the months following."

Hackett exhaled at those numbers.  _That's...eleven billion troops in total. Twelve, if you count what the quarians have. And combine the geth and quarian fleets...that's over seventy thousand ships. Christ..._ he turned to Marcus, who nodded at him with a grin, knowing full well what Hackett's reaction would be. Hackett couldn't help but smile back.  _Before, the Reapers had the advantage of awe-inducing numbers. They had hundreds of thousands ships and billions of troops...now we have the scare factor..._

"Those are some big numbers," Hackett finally replied, wrapping his head around what he had just heard, "I think that'll be more than enough to give the Reapers pause. Before, they'd always had the advantage of more troops. Not only have we got the rachni and krogan, but now we've got billions of geth and a million quarian engineers to bolster that."

Gerrel seemed surprised by that, "Rachni? Aren't they extinct?"

Marcus rubbed the back of his head, "Just another major historical change on my list of historical changes."

Raan chuckled, crossing her arms, "From the sounds of it captain, you've been more than busy. You should be careful how many changes you make; next you'll be resurrecting the protheans."

"Technically I already did that," Marcus scoffed, shaking his head as he turned back to Hackett. He noticed the lopsided grin on his face, how much more relaxed the man had looked. Before his last transmission to Hackett prior to him entering the Veil, Marcus had looked like a wreck on the verge of collapse. Now he looked revitalized, a changed man.  _His demeanour has improved. I have no doubt it has everything to do with a certain quarian._

Marcus spoke again, motioning to Gerrel and Koris, "Admiral Hackett, these two men will be your friends on the battlefield from now on," he then pointed to the black geth, who had now joined them, "As will our geth friend here."

"Greetings, Hackett-Admiral," the geth greeted him, and Hackett, quite awkwardly, shook his hand, "I am Themistocles. I will be the admiral in command of the geth navy and our troops on the ground. I will be working alongside Admirals Gerrel and Koris."

Marcus nodded, motioning to the former Heavy Fleet commander, "Gerrel has been nominated as the supreme commander of the quarian military, while Koris will work under him as Fleet Admiral of the new Fleet of Tikkun. As supreme commander, Gerrel will act as the representative for the quarians in the UGC in a military capacity, while Koris will represent them in an official capacity. Obviously, a geth will be present to represent the geth on the UGC as well."

Hackett nodded to the white geth, who now approached upon their prompting to do so, "I'm guessing that will be you."

To his surprise, the geth shook its head, "I am Caesar, chosen leader of the geth. However, I will be remaining on Rannoch to coordinate with the Conclave on the resettlement process. However, the platform known as Aristotle has been chosen by the consensus to represent the geth in your UGC. He will transfer to your vessel within the next solar day."

_Themistocles. Caesar. Aristotle. Should I be afraid that geth have taken an interest in human history? Oh well, at least they chose fitting names. A greek general. A roman general. A greek philosopher. All fitting enough._

Hackett nodded, "I understand, Caesar. The UGC will welcome Aristotle into their ranks with open arms, as will they the quarians. Your entrance into this war is timely, but in a dire period. Despite our new alliances, we are only losing ground more slowly. Completion of the Crucible is key to winning this conflict," he turned to them all, "How many engineers are you willing to commit?"

Tali spoke this time, her arms now crossed, "Our Special Projects fleet represent the most brilliant and technologically savvy scientists the quarian people have to offer. It has been decided that they and all their resources will be committed solely to the Crucible, with Admiral Xen maintaining her command over them."

Hackett was surprised by that, "As valuable as Admiral Xen's knowledge would be, she is indeed an admiral. I would have thought she would be needed on the battlefield, not the lab."

Gerrel shook his head, "Xen was never a tactician or a soldier. She is a scientist, first and foremost. While eccentric and often erratic, she is undoubtably brilliant. Her expertise helped us develop the weapons we needed to invade Rannoch and, while they were ultimately wrong, it cannot be denied they were effective. Her involvement in the Crucible project, as well as having access to her best scientists, will not be a decision you'll regret making," he shrugged, "Another bonus for us is that she is mostly kept away from Rannoch and any major involvement with the geth. She was...one of the few minority that disagreed with the coalition."

"Believe me admiral, she is better off on the Crucible, far from the main war effort," Tali declared, drawing his attention to her, "Any problems she has with the geth will be more isolated and less likely to impact any military operations."

Hackett nodded, "From what I've heard of this Admiral Xen, I think the decision you've made is for the best," he looked around the room one more time, making sure he hadn't simply missed her. Turning back, assured his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, he frowned, "Where is Admiral Xen?"

Raan spoke this time before Tali could respond, "Our first meeting with the geth on neutral ground started out on the wrong foot. Suffice to say, Xen did not endorse or approve of an alliance with the geth. As a result, we deemed it necessary to bar her from any further exchanges with the geth so as to not damage relations between our peoples. She has been informed of our decision and, despite her disagreement with it, she is currently finishing preparations with the Special Projects fleet. They should be prepared to leave with you shortly at the earliest convenience."

Caesar's headflaps twitched and moved in tandem as it prepared its own statement, "As for the geth, we are prepared to send every engineer we have available to work on the Crucible project. While we will need assurance that Admiral Xen will not attempt to capture one of our platforms for her experimentation, we have no qualms about assisting the Crucible. We understand that Admiral Xen's actions only represent a minority of the full quarian people, and will not make generalized judgments based on this minority movement."

Hackett nodded, "I can arrange for you to both work in isolated environments, if that assuages any concerns you have, Caesar."

The geth nodded, headflaps coming to rest as they clicked into place, "The geth find this acceptable, Hackett-Admiral."

Hackett took a deep breath, and turned to Marcus, exhaling slightly, "There is alot of preparations to be made captain, and I'm sure you're aware the war is growing ever more dire every day."

Marcus nodded in understanding, licking his lips, "Believe me admiral, this is a game changer. This can really change the tide."

"We'll give the Reapers everything we've got," Tali backed up, "No more, no less. Our people have our homeworld back and a friendship with the geth we will not allow to become compromise. We will crush the Reapers."

Caesar nodded, "The Old Machines are a threat to all life in the galaxy. They are a parasitic entity that desires nothing but destruction and only generates hate. These values conflict with those of the geth. We will build our own future, and we will not allow our newfound individuality to be destroyed by those who used us for their own ends. The Old Machines deserve only one fate: complete destruction. We will not allow our future to end like this."

Gerrel nodded, "Caesar put it perfectly. Any weapons we have, any ships, any troops, any resources...they're the UGC's to use."

Hackett couldn't help but let out a chuckle, nodding, "Then welcome to the war, admirals."

_You're late, but there's still some seats left. Front row, too._

**{Loading...}**

_July 28, 2186_

_1649 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Rannoch, Tikkun System, Perseus Veil Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Junior._

It had all come full circle. The quarian exodus was finally over, and hostilities between the geth and quarians had come to a close. The hatred and animosity between the two groups had faded into history. The bitter rivalry concluded by unexpected revelations. Legion, his friend, had sacrificed his life to bring individuality to all geth. Tali had risen from a pilgrim to an admiral in the span of three years. Geth, of who he had fought on Eden Prime and had been his first enemies in his gruelling 'Reaper Campaign', were now his allies. Everything that could have gone wrong, did and didn't. Peta, a man of who Marcus had once despised, now his slight respect for what he attempted to do back on Rannoch. Now he rested on Rannoch's surface, near the peak of a mountain, where he belonged.

It all seemed like a dream he wasn't part of. Like he was watching scenes from some over-the-top Hollywood movie, or at the controls of some science fiction RPG video game. None of this seemed like he was doing it. Not just the reclamation of Rannoch, or the 'Reclamation', as the Rannochian Coalition was now calling it, but everything before it as well. Curing the genophage. Saving the Citadel. Watching Earth fall. Blowing up the Bahak system. Storming and killing the Shadow Broker. Marrying a beautiful alien woman who had somehow fallen in love with some stupid fuck with a death wish. His resurrection. Allying with a terrorist group to save the galaxy. Hell, just the words 'save the galaxy' had fallen into the realms of media convention known as 'cheesy.' He wouldn't even be surprised if he woke up and realized he was sitting at a computer, writing some Star Wars fanfiction or something.

But no. It was all real. It was hard to come to terms with that, and he imagined many others thought the same. He really had done all of that. The good, and the bad. The ugly, and the uglier. The fantastic, and the best. He really had fought geth. He really had taken down the Council's best spectre. He really had uncovered a billion year old genocidal secret. He really had taken on a Reaper on foot. He really had been brought back to life, and he really was in charge of a galactic war effort. All of it was happening, right now.

But despite all that, there was still one concept he found nearly impossible to grasp.

He was a father.

"Careful, Mark," Tali chastized, Marcus looking up from the son he cradled in his arms to see his quarian engineer putting the finishing touches on her suit. Kasumi had somehow managed to get them to allow her of all people to babysit Junior, which she said would give them time to 'basically just do it like a couple of rabbits.' Despite their objections to the contrary, they really had ended up doing just that. Four times, in fact. He hurt all over because of it, but holy shit, it was certainly worth it.

He smiled warmly at her, looking back down at his son as he continued to feed him. A small bottle of milk was almost plastered between the boy's lips, sucking on the teat at the end. Tali had tried to insist on breastfeeding, but Marcus had objected due to the huge amounts of stress they had been going through, and that simple bottled milk would do until they got more time to tend to their child. Tali still wasn't happy about it, as apparently the prospect of being a mother had implied, but she had accepted his point.

"I still can't believe this little bundle of spasticity is  _our_  kid," Marcus chuckled, not turning to watch as Tali put her mask back in place and joined him on the couch, sitting on his left, her hand reaching up to stroke Junior's scalp. There was a goofy smile on Junior's face, not quite a grin, but close enough. He was adorable.

"Wow, Mark," Tali mockingly exasperated, "Already calling our child a spastic. Must do wonders for his self-esteem."

He shrugged, grinning back at her, "Well, if anyone were to ask you, being a spastic is good. He's taking after his father."

Tali chortled, holding her mouth piece to contain her laughter, but failing, "Ain't that the truth."

"If this little guy is anything like me when I was young, he'll be climbing trees by the time he's five," Mark joked. Tali looked at him, confused. Noticing her confusion, he corrected himself, "Well...attempting to climb trees. Let's just say, more often than not, I ended up returning to the ship either bruised or dirty. My mother loved me, that's for sure."

"He said with utmost sarcasm," she added with air quotes, shaking her head, "If I have anything to say about it, he won't be climbing trees until he's 15. It's dangerous."

He creased his lips in disagreement, stroking his son's right cheek, "Nothing wrong with some adventurous spirit. Call me old, but when you're young and full of energy, its best to harness that before you age too much. You only have that youth for so long," this time he grinned, looking up at her with a glint in his eyes, "Besides, I'd be more worried about the girls..."

Tali sighed, shaking her head, "Puberty. That'll be fun."

He let out a single, loud bellow, his chest shaking with the single laugh, "I can already see it. Let it be known, Tali, that our son will not find himself many rejections. If anything, he'll have alot of rejecting to do himself."

She slapped his shoulder, laughing herself, "Like father, like son."

"Hey, in my defense," he pointed at her, "Liara was...I don't know, she was pretty insistent. And Ashley...I'm not sure her first interest was Kaidan. If my son ever has to deal with that...I'll be there to pull him out of the fire. You women can get feisty."

"Fear us," Tali mockingly warned, "Don't get married, because we'll take all your money and make your life a living hell. Sound about right?"

He leaned in closer, smirking, "Didn't know you could prophecize the future, Tali."

She leaned in even closer, mask tapping his forehead, "Careful, Mark. I might just take your model ships away for a month, or worse yet...sell them on the extranet."

He pulled back, grin disappearing as he frowned, "Wait...you're serious?"

Tali nodded, crossing her arms as she kicked her feet up, hands behind her head, a subtle grin behind her mask, "Deadly serious. Its that, or you get confined to the couch for a whole month...that, and it'll be your duty to calm him down when he cries at night...for a whole month. Shall I continue?"

He pretended to look shocked, looking back down at Junior, creasing his lips, "Your mother's the devil, Junior."

The baby's response was a gurgle; he wanted more milk.

He sighed, feeding the teat back into his mouth, "Well, you don't want much, do you, Junior? Just milk. Nothing but milk. No responsibilities but...drinking milk. You lucky bugger."

Tali laughed, "Perhaps he'll need a bodyguard to keep all the girls away."

He looked at her, shrugging, "Yeah, I should think Moses will suffice."

A loud sigh could be heard, and he looked up at her, the quarian shaking her head as she held her mask in one hand, "I still can't get over Moses declaring himself my bodyguard. I don't mind him as an ally, but to devote himself to my protection? I don't think I really want that much attention."

Marcus pretended to ponder, thinking through what she said, before looking at her, "I don't know, our son having a geth prime for a bodyguard would be pretty cool. A geth butler, of sorts. Like Alfred Pennyworth."

Tali frowned, "An Alfred...what?"

He exhaled, scratching his head, "Forget it. Just think our son going to school on the back of a geth prime would be pretty freakin' cool, that's all."

She rolls her eyes, standing up as she heads over to the bed to put her boots on, "You're such...a guy."

"Discovery of my day," he dryly replied, sighing in relief as Junior finally drifted off to sleep, the man removing the bottle from his lips and placing it on the table beside them, "One day, Junior will be just a guy too."

Tali's reply was a mere mumble, her voice lowered and no longer as jovial as it had been. The mere sound of it caused him to look up, the smile slowly vanishing from his face, "Yeah, one day..."

She was standing in the middle of the room, her boots back on her feet, but her head lowered so as to be looking away from him and at the ground, arms crossed but not firmly; a clear sign that she was troubled.

He knew immediately what it was, and sagged alittle himself. He stood up, Junior having drifted off to sleep, and lightly placed him in the crib next to their bed. Making sure the child stayed asleep, he moved back over to Tali and hugged her, "I know it's going to be hard, but you know it has to be done. He can't come with us."

She nodded, arms reaching up to wrap around his own body, head tucked into his shoulder, "I know. But you only just found out he existed, and now you're leaving again..."

"It's better off this way," he declared, "It would be foolhardy to attempt to bring him with us. The life we lead...the war...it's too dangerous to be bringing up a baby on a warship. He has to remain here...where it's safe."

They had reached the decision themselves three days ago; they decided to do it on the day they left. It had not been an easy decision; Tali herself had brought it up, saying she had pondered on the idea for many days beforehand and had decided that it was the best option. Junior was just a child, and unlike the two of them, could not defend himself if the time came. If Marcus needed Tali to help him, they couldn't waste time worrying about their child, especially during a life-or-death combat situation. It was simply too risky, and the requirements of being a parent would eventually conflict with the requirements of being a soldier.

Marcus had been reluctant, but eventually saw her side. To tell the truth, he saw her side immediately, but had wanted to explore every other option beforehand. Like she said, he had only just found out he had a son; now he was leaving once more, and likely for much longer. He probably wouldn't see his son for another few months. And with the war going on...it was a possibility, although one he hated to think about, that he would never even see his son again. That neither of them would.

Eventually, the decision was made: Junior would be left behind on Rannoch, where it was safe, where he would be taken care of by a quarian they trusted. Marcus had suggested letting a geth take care of him, but Tali had laughed the idea out the window, stating that Junior needed a mother's care, something the geth, no matter how fully evolved an AI they are, cannot provide. He quickly conceded her point, and even laughed at the idea himself and how he could possibly have even considered it.

Calls were made, investigations done. In the end, it was discovered that Shala'Raan would not be leaving with Hackett's force; Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris would command their military forces, and Daro'Xen would head the quarian engineering team on the Crucible, but Shala would remain on Rannoch to help coordinate the resettlement efforts. She had argued that she was no combat specialist, and that her tactical ability was inept compared to Koris and Gerrel; and, compared to Xen, Shala was about as incapable an engineer as a vorcha. However, Shala was a good diplomat and mediator, and she also had experience in growing crops, as Clan Raan was, after all, famous for the creation of the nutrient vats initially used on the liveships in the early days of the Migrant Fleet. Because of this, Shala was a perfect candidate for leading people alongside Makk into resettling Rannoch, as well as maintaining the new, but still shaky, relationship with the geth. And she was a good motherly figure, which Tali could vouch for. In the end, it was an easy decision, and Shala was more than willing to take up the task, understanding their reasons for it.

"Just..." she began to argue again; not so much an attempt to find an excuse to keep Junior onboard, but more of a subtle rant to let her vent her frustration, "...what if something happens to him and we're too far away to help?"

He shook his head, pulling away from the hug as he held her at arm's length, "Tali, do you honestly think that would happen? Shala has a lot of experience with raising a child, and there are many quarian doctors who could help out if any medical conditions arise. That, and being surrounded by millions of combat-capable geth...I'd say Junior's in good hands. Better off than he would be remaining on the  _Normandy_."

Tali just slacked, nodding as her shoulders lowered, looking up at him, "I know. Keelah, of course I know. I'm just being an idiot. I just...he's my son, Mark.  _Our_ son. If anything happened to him...I wouldn't forgive myself."

"I know," he sighed, a quick peck on top of her visor before embracing her again, "Which is why we're leaving him here. You know it's for the best. The war is just too dangerous to raise a child in. Besides, would he not enjoy his childhood more on Rannoch in a peaceful environment than he would being raised on a warship that's in constant danger?"

She nodded, signalling for him to let go. Once he had, she moved over to the bed, gripping its edge as she looked down on their child. He could hear her sniffling, and he knew immediately what was about to follow. He walked over and squeezed her shoulder, and her left hand immediately shot up to grasp it, her sniffling becoming choked weeping, "He's so...small. And...precious. And...he's ours. Our blood. And we're leaving him behind..."

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in. She accepted the movement, and tucked her mask into his chest, letting it all out; the tears flowed forth, and she wailed into his chest, venting. He simply nodded, right hand moving up to cradle the back of her head as he simply held her there, letting her cry while silently listening to it all. She cried for minutes on end, but he just continued to stand there, understanding her need to vent; that she needed to let it all out. Again, it was no easy decision they had made, and they had done it with a heavy heart and a reluctant shake of the head. Junior was their son; but they were also his parents. It was their duty to protect him, and if that meant leaving him in the arms of Shala so they could win him a better future, then it was a price they were willing to pay. Didn't make it easy, though.

_Out of all the things I've had to do, this is probably the hardest. Goddamn this war._

Over an hour later, and they were ready. Tali, with child in her arms and Marcus, with all the essential items in one bag slung over his shoulder, descended in the elevator. There was nothing but silence between the two of them, both just appreciating the other's presence, and knowing that if they needed to hang onto each other, they were there. For Tali though, all tears had been shed, and she was ready to do what she thought possible. To leave her baby behind.

 _Young ones stay behind_ , Marcus mused.

For once, they were both thankful for the ludicrously slow speed of the elevator. In just over a minute, the elevator had arrived on the CIC deck, and they stepped out. The first people to greet them where Samantha and Kelly, both of them working at Samantha's terminal at the rear of the galaxy map. Both of them turned upon hearing the elevator doors opened, and Kelly was the first to notice the baby Tali held in her arms.

In a typical, girly fashion, Kelly almost squealed, and was there in an instant, eyes wide as she 'appreciated' Junior's appearance, "Ooooooohhh...he's so cute!"

Samantha nodded, leaning against the console with crossed arms, a smirk tugging at her lips, "Kelly's a sucker for babes, apparently."

Kelly grinned, smiling warmly at Samantha, "Young and the beautiful, Miss Traynor."

Marcus did not fail to notice Samantha's blush, and rolled his eyes, "Knock it off, you two. Not in front of our kid."

Kelly giggled, stroking Junior's face, "What, afraid we'll teach your son a thing or two?"

Marcus chuckled, "I have no doubt of the horrors he'll face having you as family, Kelly. You'll probably visit...what? Twice a day?"

"Only twice?" she retorted, snorting, "At least five. He's so adorable! Junior's his name, isn't it?" she aimed the question at Tali.

The quarian nodded, managing a smile of her own, "Yes. No. Well, for now it is, yeah."

Kelly turned back to Junior, smiling, "Hey, kiddo! I'm your auntie! Well, one of your aunties! Pretty cool, huh? Aunt Kelly! Ooooohhh...I like the sound of that. Sounds better than Aunt Chambers, at least."

Samantha laughed, "Already an aunt? Self-proclaimed one, too," she turned to Marcus, still smirking, "Watch out, captain. Next she'll be the mum."

Kelly wagged her finger at the yeoman, "Enough of that, Sam. I have no intention of stealing children. I'd prefer to...politely influence them to accept me. Through toys...lots of toys. And possibly some clothes. I might even buy him a cat, if he's lucky! I love cats!"

Marcus cringed, "I hate cats. Selfish creatures. Get him a dog; they're loyal and provide companionship. All a cat will do is demand a bed rest."

"Hey, you leave cats alone!" Kelly frowned, crossing her arms, "Besides...cats aren't selfish."

"That's what they want you to think. Trust me, once you've served your usefulness, they'll move on," Marcus retorted.

Tali spoke up, her tone not as jovial, but still not as glum as she had been before, "Well, we'd better get moving...don't want to keep Shala waiting."

"Oh, of course. I didn't mean to keep ya," Kelly apologized, backing into the console, "Besides, I'm sure Shala would like to-" To distract Kelly and allow Marcus and Tali a quick escape from the baby enthusiast, Samantha jabbed her hands into Kelly's side, causing her to let out a loud chorus of laughs. A few officers on the CIC looked up with frowns on their faces, not at all amused. Kelly didn't care however, continuing to laugh as Samantha tickled her, pinning her against the console so she couldn't escape.

"S-ss-Sam! S-s-stop! O-oh-oh my God! Stop it!" Despite her objections, she continued to giggle and laugh as Samantha's hands assaulted her ticklish waist area, much to the irritation of the officers on the deck. Marcus just shook his head as he motioned for Tali to follow, who had managed a genuine laugh at the display. Once the two had reached the flight deck, she spoke again.

"I didn't know those two were in a relationship," Tali pointed out.

He shrugged, "With this ship, anything's possible. Besides Samantha was pretty clear of her...orientation. And considering Kelly's openness about her...activities in the past...I'm not at all surprised those two hooked up. Besides, its good for Kelly. Helps her forget her ordeal on the Collector Base."

Tali nodded, "I guess. We could all do with some happy moments."

They spotted Shala immediately. She was in the cockpit, standing behind Joker's seat with her arms crossed, apparently listening to a conversation between the pilot and Cortez, which seemed to be getting very animated. As they got closer, they could pick out bits of the conversation.

"...James piloting the  _Normandy_? We wouldn't get past drydock."

Cortez chuckled, his own arms crossed, but now uncrossing as he waved his arms in the air, mimicking what it would like if the situation actually occurred, "Yeah. The  _Normandy_ would meet the planet surface faster than you can say 'who let the grizzly bear drive'?"

Joker shook his head, "Even Wrex drove a shuttle better than him. A  _krogan_. James pilots worse than Marcus in a Mako."

"I heard that, loud and clear, Joker," Marcus announced, drawing the attention of all three as he entered the cockpit, Joker turning around in his seat. EDI was sitting in the seat beside him as usual, but made no movements to address them, clearly focused on something, "And I resent that."

Joker held up his hands mockingly, "Oops, you got me. I messed up, I admit. Just don't make me ride in a Mako with you."

"If my driving is so bad, perhaps the whole crew can try driving it and see how easily they criticize me," he drawled before quickly moving on from their conversation, "Besides, me and Tali aren't the inquisition Joker; we're not here for you."

"You're not?" Joker asked innocently, and when Marcus shook his head, he frowned, pouting, "Oh, and I thought I was special. So my dreams are dashed...once again. At least Cortez will keep me company."

Cortez sighed, checking the chrono on his omni-tool before shaking his head, "Unfortunately, neither can I. My next shift starts in a minute, and I've got to run some maintenance on the shuttle," he turned and nodded to Marcus, before turning and walking down the flight deck. Joker sagged in his seat, lazily waving at the screens before him. Marcus smiled, before turning to Shala.

Shala turned to face him as well, nodding at him, "Marcus. Tali. I was just waiting for you two to come down with Junior. You took slightly longer than I expected, so I decided to join their conversation."

"We understand," Tali spoke up, rocking their baby back and forth gently, their son remaining asleep, "We...well, this was harder than we thought it would be, and we needed time to adjust."

Shala sighed, reaching out a hand and grasping Tali's shoulder, "This is your first child, Tali, but a mother's instinct is paramount no matter what. I can understand your urge to stick by your child's side, but I also understand your need to be by your husband's side; after all, if this war is lost, it won't matter whether your baby is fine or not; he soon wouldn't be," she looked down at the child in Tali's arms. She looked back up at Marcus, whose expression had become stone.  _No weakness. We made this decision, we must stick to it. No going back._

Shala looked between the two, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't keep it a secret from her, and she was able to easily pick up on their indecisiveness, "If you two aren't ready, I can give you more time to come to a decision..."

He shook his head, feeling his eyes water up slightly. He gulped, holding back any tears as he shook his head, a bit too frantically to be outwardly genuine, "No, its okay Shala. Besides...if we had anymore time to think...we might make a decision we'll end up regretting. We don't want to be the parents who lost our first kid due to stupidity."

Shala nodded, turning back to Tali, "Do you agree with this, Tali? As the mother, your word means alot."

His wife nodded, "It...has to be done. As difficult as it may be...we have to let go, even if only for a while..."

His adoptive aunt nodded, before turning and walking forward, her arms open, "Well, then this means goodbye. You already know of my decision to remain on Rannoch."

He sighed, moving forward and embracing the elder quarian. The hugged briefly before breaking apart, Shala holding him at arm's length. He spoke, smiling slightly, although he didn't feel any of the effects that should have come with such an expression, "We know. We wish you luck with the reconstruction efforts. And before you ask...I'll take care of Tali, just as she'll take care of me. Two halves make up the whole, remember?"

Shala laughed slightly, a sound that was still as alien to him as she was in actuality, "Indeed they do, Marcus. I understand all too easily what you mean," there was a moment of sadness, likely remembering her deceased husband, before she straightened again, letting go of Marcus as she turned to her niece, hesitating for a moment. Frowning, Marcus turned to see the source of Shala's issue; Tali was standing still, not looking at either of them, simply looking down at Junior, unmoving. She did this for several more moments, not acknowledging either of them.

Before Marcus could step in, Shala made her move, motioning her arms so that Tali looked up. She did so, meeting Shala's eyes. He simply watched in calm solemnity as Shala nodded to the young quarian, his wife nodding back as she slowly, but surely, reached out and extended her arms, the baby moving out with them. Gently and with extreme care, Shala pulled the baby out from Tali's open arms and pulled him into her own, hugging him closely to her chest.

Tali let her arms fall and stepped back towards Marcus, ever silent. He didn't say anything, he too remaining silent as Tali backed into him, his left arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her in, offering the comfort of his embrace. Shala gently rocked the baby in her arms, testing the waters as she looked down at the child to guage any kind of reaction.

Junior never woke up or registered any change of holder.

Content that Junior was asleep, Shala looked up, glance moving between the two, before she nodded, "I...this is goodbye, then," she looked back to Tali, "Tali, my child. You have grown up so much, developed so much. You...have made me so proud, and now you're a mother," there was evidence of Shala tearing up herself, before she simply nodded it away, "It was a pleasure being your aunt, and I wish you luck on the road ahead. Please...be safe," she motioned to the baby in her arms, a smile behind her mask, "You have a child to come back to now. A child who needs you. Win this war and come back, for his sake."

The two parents simply nodded, before Tali spoke again, "I will miss you, Shala. I...we can't promise we'll be safe, but we will certainly promise to make every effort to come back, no matter what it takes. We will...we will see our son again, we swear it by the ancestors."

"Do not swear to me, Tali," Shala stated firmly, "Swear to Junior."

"I swear it, son," she stated after some hesitation, a noticable gulp preceeding her next words, succeeded by a sniffle, "I swear it on my life, by the ancestors and the homeworld we have seen today. Your parents will return home and we'll be one happy family."

Shala gave a quick nod, "Then farewell, Tali'Shepard vas Normandy. Marcus'Shepard vas Normandy. Safe tidings preceed you both, and may the stars grant you safe passage in these times of strife and endless misery."

They held their hands up in a frozen wave, their faces frozen with sadness, but ultimately conviction that they had done was the right thing.  _No matter what, what we did? It was...necessary. It was the right thing to do._

Shala turned, beginning to walk into the airlock, but was stopped as Tali suddenly called out, shattering her long silence, "Goodbye, Junior!" The sound was choked and garbled, the quarian obviously holding back the urge to cry again.

He smiled warmly at her, looking up to see Shala stop, turning back towards them. Afterwards, she turned away slowly, letting the two of them see Junior for as long as possible before the two of them disappeared behind the airlock, EDI announcing the decontamination cycle as the two crossed from the  _Normandy_ to the quarian ship they were docked with.

They were both still and silent for a few moments, before shaken by Joker's voice suddenly speaking up, "You guys alright?"

He shook his head, turning to see Joker had rotated the seat to face them, his arms resting on the arm rests as he looked at them. He nodded to the pilot, "We'll...be fine, Joker. We just need time to adjust. But thanks for asking."

Joker just tipped his cap, nodding, "Before you ask, EDI just ran the decon process in your cabin and cleared your schedule for the rest of the day. Take the day off, Marcus. The  _Normandy_ can look after itself for now."

Marcus nodded, "Thank you, both of you."

Without hesitation, he gently guided Tali down the flight deck towards the elevator, where they could both let go of their stress and focus on what mattered: wiping out the Reapers and returning home to their son. In the end, that's all that mattered at this point.

_That's right. Coping mechanisms. Calm thoughts. Think of the happy future we'll soon have together...the family we'll raise..._

_**A/N:** _

_**Technically speaking, I said there wouldn't LIKELY be frequent updates...** _

_**Anyway, this OFFICIALLY wraps up the quarian-geth arc. I'm not really happy how I ended the chapter, but in the end, I couldn't get it to work any other way. I'm not a fantastic writer of emotion. I convey my anger through blood, guts and dead stereotypical british villains have had their heads bashed in after a particularly nasty, but well thought out, monologue. Dark, grimy and bitter nightmares help me convey terror. But trying to convey the emotion of a mother saying goodbye to their child? I can't possibly do that kind of event any justice. So...this is the best I can do.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	59. War Is Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resistance in Paris collapses as the Reaper overwhelm France. A meeting of top asari military brass goes awry. The Deliverance arrives at Omega to refit and refuel.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE:**

**WAR IS HELL**

_July 29, 2186_

_1000 hours._

_Northeastern Tunnels, Catacombs of Paris, Paris, Sixth Republic of France/European Union, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Earth: Operation: Far Gone._

_Corporal Jasper Toombs, Corporal Erik Fessinger, Sergeant Major Leonard Descombes._

He was terrified.

For Toombs, terror was not a new feeling. It was something he had experienced aplenty in his life. As a former marine of the Systems Alliance, he was no stranger to the terrors of the galaxy.

Corporal Jasper Toombs, former marine of the now non-existent 55th Force Recon Platoon, had just been your ordinary citizen before he signed up. Having grown up in Edmonton in the UNAS, he had trained to be a gridiron footballer. By the time he was 22, he was a member of the Edmonton Eskimos football team, and competing in the Canadian Football League. Had he never met that one hanar, he likely never would have known another life. But he had; that one hanar had changed his life. That hanar's name was Phayl. Apparently, Phayl had been a resident of Edmonton for quite some time at that point, and was a fan of Canadian football. Before long, Phayl had locked his sights on Toombs, and the two developed a friendship. After a while, Toombs began to learn more about the galaxy around him, discovering just what he was missing out on. In the end, he simply couldn't resist. His curiosity got the better of him.

Phayl gave him the motivation, and he made the action: he joined the SAMC as an opportunity to explore the galaxy. He wasn't in it for any particular military glory or to get back at some blinks for the Blitz; he was there for the exploration. He wanted to see some of the things Phayl claimed existed. He wanted to see it all. And then, and only then, would he return to Edmonton and share all the things he had learnt. He was even proud to eventually be assigned to the 55th Force Recon Platoon, under the command of the great Commander Shepard himself, almost fresh from his moment of glory on Elysium and Torfan. Things were going right for Toombs.

And then that fateful day on Akuze.

For the first time in his life, Toombs experienced terror other than the stress of an examination room or football field. Their platoon had deployed in the early hours of the morning, deployed by the SSV  _New Delhi_ , to investigate Akuze's distress call; the small colony assigned to the palladium mining facility there had gone dark, but not before sending out a basic distress call; no text or message, just a beacon. The  _New Delhi_ was first on the scene, and the 55th deployed. Murmurs had gone amongst the group: what was it? Was it the batarians striking again? Was it a precursor to invasion? But like the calm man he was, Shepard had told them all to be quiet and stay frosty; with the Lion of Elysium and Butcher of Torfan by their side, they would pull through.

Their search had turned up nothing. They had found the colony, but it had been consumed by a massive sinkhole, one they determined was not of natural causes, and was caused by underground borrowing. With the sun going down however and Captain Dick Eisennhorn insistent on finding survivors, they made camp. Toombs had three guard duty in five hours, and he had tried to find sleep after reading an extranet article about his team's latest victory back on Earth. He remembered it vividly; he had been snuggling down, ready to watch the game's results live from his omni-tool, when hell itself was raised.

First it was the roars and the screeches. Then it was the ground tremors. Shepard ordered the 55th to set up defensive positions, fearing they had been fired upon by batarian artillery, and that the screeches were varren. But by the time Shepard finally found out what they were up against, the three of the creatures emerged and descended upon them.

Thresher Maws.

Phayl had told him about the wonders of the galaxy, but he had failed to mention the horrors; thresher maws were one of them. Enormous worm-like creatures, thresher maws were subterranean monoliths that originated from Tuchanka. Birthed through spores, they quickly spread to dozens of worlds, leading to them spreading like wildfire. It was suggested they never be engaged on foot, as they could slaughter entire platoons of troops without vehicle support, and that even with tanks, they could spit acid capable of melting the hull of a Grizzly.

They knew this because Akuze had been their precedent.

Shepard, amongst all the mess, sounded the retreat to the shuttles. He must have. He'd have been a fool not too. Either way, Toombs couldn't tell. All he could do was stand there, grasping his avenger rifle tightly and pointed in no particular direction, as he watched the ground seemingly disappear around them, tents vanishing beneath the surface in some areas, while marines disappeared in others. Some tried to return fire, but were largely consumed. He had remembered watching one unarmoured soldier trying to fight one with nothing but a pistol, only to get a face-full of acid in response; the look of his skin sizzling and peeling, while his eyes popped and blood vessels exploded would always haunt Toomb to the ends of his days. Other marines were devoured, screaming. Some lost legs and couldn't move, crying out to others to help them, only to get no answer. They were soon consumed, or, in one case, opted out.

With half their platoon slaughtered in just over a minute, Toombs finally decided to flee. He went in the wrong direction. He could see some of the platoon making their way into the vehicles to escape; some made it pretty far before the maws caught up. They managed to kill a few, while others were capsized or crushed under the bulks of the pursuing threshers. At the time, Toombs had no way of knowing whether Shepard was among those killed. He didn't have time to care.

All he did was run. Toombs sprinted from the camp, happy to know that none of the threshers were following or had noticed him. Threshers normally detected vibrations in the surface and used that to track their prey; to Toombs' luck, they must not have picked his up or were simply too preoccupied devouring his friends and fellow marines.

By the end, it was obvious what had happened to the colony; thresher maws, sixty of them, had formed a colony over a period of time directly under the colony. Obviously, the colony's drilling eventually hit their colony and pissed them off; ending in the colony being consumed. By the end of the slaughter, the entire 55th Platoon was no more; from what he had heard from the reports years later, nobody but Shepard had survived the massacre. He became known as the Survivor of Akuze. The Alliance would later attempt to call for a subterranean neutron purge to kill the thresher maws. Unfortunately, the Citadel Foundation for Wildlife Preservation (CIFFS) stepped in and objected to the action and the Alliance instead elected to establish the Akuze Exclusion Zone.

All of this Toombs would only find out six years later.

Unlike Shepard, who traversed twelve kilometers of open terrain to reach a safe zone for a shuttle pickup, Toombs was not so lucky. The official report until Toombs' return was that Shepard was the  _only_ survivor. Toombs was believed KIA with the rest of the platoon. Left behind on Akuze to die, Toombs lived on the planet for two days afterwards, trying his best to survive with only a few rations and a bottle of water. Both luck and disfortune finally greeted him on the final day of his entrapment when he signalled a shuttle down.

For the next six years, he would regret doing so. The shuttle had been Cerberus, and they had plans for him.

As he soon found out, the colony's placement over the thresher nest was no coincidence. Cerberus had deliberately directed the colony's foundation to make sure it was right ontop of the thresher nest. Apparently, they wanted the colony to be devoured so that the military would deploy troops. Doctor Bradley Wayne, the lead scientist in charge of the project, was ecstatic to find out there was a survivor of the attack: now they had someone to run tests on.

And for six years, Toombs was their pet project. Held in a cell on a space station of who's name and status he can't even remember, Toombs was put through numerous tests and conditions that no organic being should be put through; they exposed him to numerous forms of radiation. As a result, he developed seven types of cancer. They injected him with drugs that was supposed to remove his ability to feel pain, before proceeding to break both his legs, both arms and five fingers on his left hand; it failed, and he screamed for days on end until all his bones were reset. He was then deprived of sleep for three whole weeks. Countless experiments, numberless 'therapies'. By the end, Toombs was a wreck.

Thankfully, in 2183 CE, his torment finally ended, years after he lost hope of escaping. As part of Operation: FLIGHT OF THE RAPTOR, the SIA had launched simultaneous strikes on Cerberus facilities in an attempt to capture key personnel, one of which was Doctor Bradley Wayne. Raiding the station, the SIA team killed most of the Cerberus crew, captured Dr. Wayne and his science team, and freed Toombs, who was sent to a reconditioning facility on Earth.

He was never the same. Sure, he could fight again, but he had lost all interest in doing so. In the end, he gave up on his family, he abandoned his sporting career, and he left the Alliance. All he could think about was revenge. So while Shepard fought Saren and the geth, Toombs was out finding every single member of the science team involved in his torture and killed every single one of them. By the time he cornered Dr. Wayne on Ontarom, the entire science team was slaughtered. He remembered putting the bullet in Dr. Wayne's head. He remembered it well. He had avenged the 55th, and yet the feeling was unmistakable.

Emptiness.

With a family who thought him dead and the SIA searching for him, he chose to hide in plain sight; he falsified his credentials and joined the European Union Army. A fresh start. A new life. He would remain a soldier, but now he could stay far away from the galaxy Phayl had claimed was so spectacular, and had only turned out to be the most terrifying place imaginable. Toombs would never leave Earth again.

Unfortunately for him, he was never given the opportunity or second attempt to rethink that decision. The Reapers hit Earth, he was still in Europe, and he had no choice but to join the worldwide resistance to repel them. Despite all his efforts to keep the horrible monsters at bay, worse ones had found and come to  _him._ And this time, there would be  _no_ escape.  _No_ last minute rescuers.

So what better place is there to run from the terrifying monsters than to run into one of the most terrifying places on planet Earth?

The Catacombs of Paris had gained notoriety for their history. Built as part of the mines under Paris in 1810 CE, the catacombs are the largest underground network of tunnels in human history, spanning well over hundreds of miles, and seven levels. Filled with the bodies of the dead, only small sections of the catacombs were ever legally traversable, and even then, only by tour guides. That only made up a small portion of the catacombs, however; the rest could not be accessed. It could be, but not by legal means; once inside, only those who were professionals could ever hope to see the surface again, and horror stories of those who found themselves lost in the maze of tunnels haunted those who dared to explore their interiors.

And yet here they were, his squad, doing so under extreme duress.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea, sarge," Corporal Erik Fessinger, one of his French squad members, commented, albeit sarcastically. Toombs looked up from where he was, currently leaning against the stone wall behind him. The corridor they were in was in line with every other in the catacombs; narrow, only roughly two meters in width. The ceiling was just high enough that if he stood at full height, his head would have an inch of free movement. The darkness was all encompassing, with only their flashlights and the night vision in their helmets giving them an ability to move. The ground was waterlogged, with the corridors largely flooded and the water discoloured due to the effects of crumbling debris and dust. The exact color of the water was impossible to tell with what they had. The air was stale and the air freezing cold, the thermal heating in his armor only just managing to keep him from feeling the chill.

Toombs was wearing some basic HYPERION-67 combat armor, a less advanced variant of the HYPERION-82 armor that was standard across the Alliance military and largely utilized by the forces of the European nations. The armor was a lighter blue with yellow stripes lined vertically across the frame; color scheme of the EUAF. The circle of twelve yellow stars that was the insignia of the EU was stamped into the upper part of his helmet, as well as the shoulderpads and right breastplate of his armor. He held an M-8 Avenger assault rifle firmly in his grip, a M-3 predator sidearm holstered at his hip. Two incendiary grenades rested on his waist, and a pouch with thermal clips was located in a crevice in the chest of his armor. His helmet fully tightened on, night vision fully activated, he could see everything, thankfully, as the flashlight on his helmet only reinforced.

As he looked up, he could see Corporal Fessinger, as well as a second marine, Private Freedkar, facing opposite ends of the corridor; Fessinger was crouched, his vindicator battle rifle raised and finger on the trigger, guarding the way they came on; on the right. Freedkar did the same on the left, his helmet removed long before during a firefight, dried blood already crusting on his head as he kept his own M-9 Usurper rifle aimed down the passage they intended to cross.

The sergeant in question, Sergeant Major Leonard Descombes, could only growl and mumble in French as he cursed his omni-tool, turning his anger upon Fessinger as he pointed angrily, "Shut the fuck up Fessinger and let me think. You just keep the passage behind us clear."

Descombes was not the best commanding officer to have. Toombs' squad had once been at full strength, but fighting on the surface had reduced their numbers to this: himself, Descombes, Corporal Fessinger and Private Freedkar. They had been surrounded by Reaper troops, attempting to pull out as the rest of the European forces had, only to lose most of their squad. Unfortunately, Descombes had the 'brilliant' idea that using the catacombs to bypass enemy forces and find a way out of their pincer movement, which only led to them becoming lost. Figures.

Descombes, for a man of his position, was unfathomably idiotic. By leading them into the catacombs, he thought he could lead them to safety, and that he could use his omni-tool to find themselves a way out. Four major problems with that scenario; one, the Reapers had likely seen them entering the catacombs, and would have no problems dispatching troops after them. Two, the vastness of the catacombs and the fact that they were unmapped meant that Descombes had effectively led his men into a trap, making the job of the Reapers much easier. Three, they were so far underground and in Reaper territory that his omni-tool couldn't even connect to the extranet, let alone a nearby communications relay. Four, no maps existed for the Catacombs, which would have made his omni-tool useless even if he could have found a connection.

So what was his solution to the problem? What fantastic solution did Descombes have?

Sit. Wait. Why? Because maybe, just  _maybe_ , his omni-tool will find a connection.

_Dim-witted imbecile. We're dead because of him._

Toombs didn't voice it, and neither did the rest of the team, but they knew any hope of getting out was near impossible. Even with all their advanced technology, it would take them weeks to find an exit in this maze of a network, and there were so many dead ends that the Reapers would surely find them before they could even get within a kilometer of an exit. They were royally screwed.

All because Descombes simply couldn't let them die with honor.

Fessinger scoffed, shaking his head as he turned back to the corridor behind them, "Keep clear of what? The Reapers would take centuries just to find us down here, sarge. You led us into a fucking maze, and not even the Reapers would be able to get their husks out. It fucking reeks down here, anyway. The smell. The cold. The water. The narrow corridor...thank you, sarge. Everything I hate, all in one. I'm claustro-fucking-phobic, and you just  _had_ to lead me into the catacombs of Paris, of all places..."

Descombes snarled, turning away from his omni-tool once again, "Would you have rather  _died_ up there!?" his body shook with anger, likely frustrated more at their situation than Fessinger's words. His heavy French accent punctuated his voice, leaving his outburst more amusing than generally scary.

"Yeah, actually, I would have," Fessinger shot back, "At least then its in the open and we die quickly. Now we're trapped down here, and the only death we'll get is either starvation or killing ourselves. Neither are options I particularly wanted for my death. So fuck you, sarge."

"Shut the fuck up!" Descombes slapped an armoured hand across Fessinger's head, before turning to Toombs, looking him directly into the visor, "Do you have anything you'd like to say?" he then turned to Freedkar, who hadn't even turned to look at him, the marine sagging off to the side slightly out of exhaustion, "Or you? I'm sure you'd love to complain, Freedkar. That's all you've done so far!"

"Quit bullying them, Descombes. You got us into this mess. At least man up and take responsibility for it, you fucking French cunt," Fessinger spat, standing up, finally fed up with Descombes' bullshit. He holstered his rifle, turning back as he pushed Descombes back, water sloshing beneath them as their sudden movement kicked up some of it, the filthy liquid coating their boots, "I'll never get to see my sister again, because of you. Toombs probably won't see his family again either! Or Freedkar! Look at this shit!" he kicked at the water again, kicking more of it up, "We're walking on the bones of people who died over three hundred years ago! The air fells worse than my mum's gasses after a Christmas pudding, the water is so discoloured I'm starting to think it  _is_ Christmas pudding, and the air is so stale, I can barely fucking breathe! And this is your idea of fucking safety!?"

Fessinger's voice echoed through the tunnels, causing Toombs to tense up. He closed his eyes, teeth chattering. The cold, despite his armor fighting it off, felt like it was seeping in, creeping up his bones. He was terrified.

_Please stop shouting. Please, God, please stop..._

Descombes shoved him back, unintimidated, "I did what I had to do to save this squad!"

Fessinger laughed, pointing at both ends of the corridor, "Take a look around you, Descombes. What you had to  _do_ was get us out of there  _alive_. That doesn't mean  _trapped_ in tunnels  _hundreds of miles_ long! We can't even find a way out! We're fucked!" he turned away, punching one of the walls directly with a fist, the stone crumbling and leaving a mark from the impact, the shards of broken stone falling into the water with heavy splashes, or echoing as they thudded off the walls themselves, "This isn't  _fucking fair!_ I promised my sister I'd be home by next week! Now I'll never see her again!" He slumped against the wall, "Guess it doesn't matter. She's probably dead anyway. Fucking Reapers."

"Panicking won't do us any good..." Descombes tried to argue.

"I'd like to see something that  _is_ doing us any good," Fessinger snapped back, shutting Descombes up. Despite being a sergeant, he was fairly inept at keeping his squad in check, something Fessinger took constant advantage of. He chuckled lightly to himself, turning away from their French sergeant, "Besides, this isn't panicking. This is acceptance of fact. We're trapped. We'll never find a way out. We've more than likely got Reaper troops down here looking for us. The Catacombs of Paris are infamous for a reason."

_He's right..._

He leaned back, the back of his helmet tapping against the wall.  _Just as well my family think I died eight years ago, or I'd actually be sorry for them. Dying to thresher maws would probably be more dignified than this...all alone, in the darkness, nothing but an idiotic sergeant, a pessimistic corporal and a mute private for company._

Private Freedkar was by no means a mute. He could talk, but for whatever reason, he had fallen entirely silent ever since their descent into the catacombs. It was very likely shellshock that was doing this to him, the loss of his squad coupled with the inevitability of their slow death creating a sudden realization that he was doomed. Toombs couldn't blame him. He thought the same when he was captured by Cerberus.

Unfortunately for them, there would be no happy ending. The SIA would not be sending a rescue team to free them.

_We're going to die. All four of us; if anything, we're already dead._

"Wait," Fessinger spoke up, getting the attention of both Descombes and Toombs as they turned towards the soldier. The corporal was facing the way they had come, his hand held up, rifle hanging by the sling around his shoulders. He frowned in the darkness, continuing to look down the passage. He turned to them, clarifying, "Did any of you hear that?"

Toombs shrugged, "Hear what?" It was the first thing he had said since entering the Catacombs.

Fessinger turned back, licking his lips, "I definitely heard moaning. As in, you know, husks."

"No way," Descombes objected, turning back to his omni-tool, its orange glow lighting up the corridor once more, washing away the darkness and serving as a beacon of light in their night vision, "Its like you said, it would take them years to find us down here. They couldn't be that close."

"They followed us down, you stupid fuck," Fessinger retorted, "Its very possible they took the same passages we did."

 _That, or they just heard your shouting,_ Toombs mused.

Moments later, Toombs heard it. Moans. They were the unmistakable sounds of standard husks, but this time he could also hear screeches; the sound of cannibals. They were definitely close.

Toombs nodded to Fessinger, acknowledging what he had heard. Standing up, he raised his rifle, joining Fessinger in their narrow positioning and dropping into a crouch, looking directly down the corridor. Behind them, Freedkar got up and joined them, his Usurper aimed downrange.

Descombes, however, did not.

"Can't have found us," Descombes mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he frantically tapped at his omni-tool, refusing to pick up the M-37 Falcon rifle that lay resting against the wall behind him, instead shaking like an unseasoned child, "No way in hell. Mazes. Years to find us. No, no, no, no..."

"Sarge!" Fessinger hissed, trying to remain silent while trying to scare Descombes into action, "What are you doing? Grab a rifle! They'll be here any second!"

Descombes finally took notice, turning to Fessinger with nothing but fear in his eyes. Once more, he shook his head, refusing to take even the slightest movement to pick up his weapon as he just looked between the three of them, Freedkar remaining silent and unmoving other than the odd sweep of his rifle across the corridor, "No...no! I won't! Have...to get us out of here! We need to leave! To run!"

Fessinger frowned, looking at Toombs, who just shrugged.  _I'm just ready to die. For this to be over with. Running will only prolong it. This isn't Akuze. On Akuze, running was all I could do. There was no glorious death to be had against thresher maws. At least now I can take some husks with me...as empty a premise that may be._

Fessinger turned back to Descombes, "Are you deaf? Did you hear anything I said? We're trapped down here! You'll never find a way out! Running is pointless! You can either die fighting or die running," he turned back, one eye looking down range on his rifle, "I'm certainly not going to die that way, how about you guys?"

"Die fighting," Toombs replied in response, a mere mumble, but enough to be heard. There were more screeches, these ones louder, now complete with the sounds of marauders and berserkers. It was likely an entire swarm was heading their way, which would make running even more pointless.  _A maze of tunnels and the possibility of finding an exit is almost zero...why even bother wasting the energy? You're better off putting it to use killing some husks._

He didn't see Freedkar nod, but he had no doubt the private did, as he made no move to try and leave. In the end, Descombes was outvoted, despite being the commanding officer of their unit.

_What I'd pay to have Shepard as my commander again...he wouldn't have gotten us into this mess in the first place._

Descombes must have said or done something that made Fessinger fed up, because the corporal waved a dismissive hand, turning back down the corridor, "Fine, run away then. Get yourself lost. Run all by yourself and die alone. We don't care. You've already killed us. We're just choosing how it ends. So start running, Descombes. We'll give you a head start on the husks."

Toombs didn't even need to turn around to know Descombes had taken what Fessinger had said on merit. Before he had a moment to finish contemplating what Fessinger had just said to their CO, Descombes turned and ran, leaving his rifle behind as the splashes of his feet slashing through the water could be heard, getting fainter and fainter as he continued to run away, his footsteps fading away into the darkness.

Fessinger mumbled under his breath, doing so just before more screeches and moans were heard, just around the corner. He took aim, preparing himself, "Fucking asshole."

Toombs, in that moment, took a moment to think about his life. The choices he made. Would he be in this situation had he never met Phayl? Or, if he had, shown disinterest in Phayl's stories? Was it truly that hanar's fault that he found himself trapped down here, with a loud mouth pessimist and a mute, about to face off against an unstoppable force? Was it perhaps just mere chance that Toombs had taken the hanar's words as gold and decided to doom himself forever to the bane of curiosity? Perhaps it really was a case of being in the wrong city, at the wrong time...

_All I ever wanted to do was play football. I was good at that. I liked it. I was loved, I had friends who cared about me, and family I could visit. Instead I had to let Phayl woo me with stories of a majestic galaxy, full of ceaseless wonder...the idiocy and naivete of youth drove me, took me away from everything I loved, and dropped me into hell._

_For all I know...my family is dead. Harvested or killed by the Reapers, it doesn't matter. Very slim chance they're even alive. My football team too. Hell, Phayl's probably dead too. What does it matter? I lose everything, no matter what scenario. At least now I can fight back._

_Great deal its done for me, though. Couldn't save my platoon on Akuze, and couldn't save my squad now. Might as well just accept it. I was doomed from the moment I listened to Phayl. I was doomed from the moment I was born in Edmonton, Earth in the 22nd century._

_I was doomed from the very beginning. A sequence of events...and here's the resolution._

"Here they come!" Fessinger called out. Toombs saw them; a sloshes of water as dozens of husks made their way through the water, turning down the passage as they heard Fessinger call out. They all charged at once, as one, slowly but gradually making their way down to the group. Fessinger immediately opened fire, his rifle bursts lighting up the otherwise pitch black corridor as a hail of bullets impacted the lead husk, shredding its torso and causing it to fall backwards into the slosh.

Toombs and Freedkar followed, their own weapons bursting with light and fury as they too emptied what they had into the enemy's ranks. Descombes was long gone, lost in the maze of tunnels behind them...and for all Toombs cared, he could die. He was not going to die a coward, at the very least.

The rifle jolted against his shoulder as he emptied round after round into the husks, but they just kept coming, five husks becoming ten for every single one that died. It was a battle that was unwinnable, and they knew that. They didn't care.

They just wouldn't die running.

Miles down the catacombs, the gunfire continued, mixed in with the screeches and moans of the huskified army as it descended upon the doomed trio.

Somewhere, in the darkness, a whimper was heard, followed by crying.

**{Loading...}**

_July 29, 2186_

_1145 hours._

_The Long Table (High Command Facility Alpha-29), Thessian High Command, Kurinth, T'miix Continent, Thessia._

_The Reaper War._

_General Tristana J'Asa, Major General_ _Delana P'Stri, Lieutenant General Kinriu T'reyma._

General Tristana J'Asa was probably one of the more calm and collected generals among her cohort, and even she was tense at that very moment.

The Long Table, as was the nickname for the debriefing room located in the headquarters of Thessian High Command, was exactly how the nickname described it. Made out of a material native to Thessia known as elesash, which was the closest equivalent to ebony on Earth, the Long Table spanned the spine of the room, and was sixteen meters long. The room was reinforced with electronic shielding generators and was a kilometer underground, making it impervious to an EMP strike or any form of bombardment, whether it be conventional, nuclear, antimatter or neutron. Possessing a massive backup generator capable of generating power for an entire century, and a ventilation system capable of venting out any type of gas, the Long Table was the safest room in the entire Asari Republics; virtually apocalypse-proof. While on the outside it was a debriefing room, the classified details was that it was a panic room for the Thessian elite; the president herself, members of the RBI (Republican Bureau of Intelligence), high-ranking military officials such as herself and the most important members of the Senate, all were considered those special enough to gain access to its safety.

The table was alined with dozens upon dozens of chairs, with a large viewscreen at the far end, and a thick, titanium-A3 reinforced entrance at the other. Along the walls were numerous paintings detailing asari history, from the Reign of the Night Winds to their fall, the first city-state to the Enlightenment of Thessia. The formation of the Republics, to the discovery of the Citadel. High-powered lights brightened the room, the walls, deceptively lively and harmless, hiding what lay behind them; titanium-A3 armor, strenghtened by solid concrete, and miles upon miles of compacted dirt and Thessian earth. If anyone wanted to experience safety from the Reapers, it was down in High Command Facility Alpha-29, otherwise known by its nickname, and now callsign, Long Table.

Tristana sat close to the middle, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes scanning the room. This was not the first time she had been in the Alpha-29 facility. 846 years old, and she had seen this room all but once before; that was during the outbreak of war with the geth on Rannoch, where High Command had gathered to decide what action they should take. In the end, the salarians, turians and asari had come to the same conclusion; let the quarians burn. Tristana had been part of that unanimous decision, as she had no love for quarians then, and she had no love for them now.

_Why we gave them a spot on the Council was beyond me. They were irresponsible, reckless and selfishly stupid. That war was of their own creation, and I'm glad I didn't have to send my troops to die for a cause they didn't believe in. And now, from what I've heard, they've chosen now of all times to go to war with them again. Imbeciles._

Her uniform was creased in some areas, but was otherwise ironed and prestine. High Command had been working her to death ever since the Citadel Siege, with Tristana working day and night to decide troop movements and to coordinate with the naval brass where to send who. The asari's commitment to the war was initially very reluctant, with many generals wondering why they were sending troops to die out there when they could be defending their homeland. Tristana couldn't blame them. She had no doubt the turians harboured the same ill will.

_Only difference is that Palaven actually is under attack. But when the Reapers come knocking on Thessia's door, who will be there to answer? No one. We'll all be out there dying, far from home._

Behind her was Major General Delana P'Stri, who, for lack of a better term, looked constipated. Tristana didn't know how else to describe it. Sitting ramrod straight, she looked back and forth at an almost rapid pace, paying attention to the many conversations in the room that were occurring in the interim before the meeting started. Her skin was a pale blue, and her face was scrounched up in what looked like constant pain; Tristana rolled her eyes, wandering just what her problem was. Was she actually, literally, constipated? Recovering from a sickness, perhaps? Tristana's guess was all she had in terms of information.

Lieutenant General Kinriu T'reyma wasn't much different, but she was a different kind of constipated: the kind the military liked. Kinriu looked every bit the soldier; she too sat straightened, her eyes calmly and stoically regarding the government official she was talking with, the only movement in her face being the occassional blink, nod of the head or shifting of her lips as she spoke. She never smiled. She never frowned. Her face was blank, a mask of emotionlessness. Her skin was a dark shade of purple, much darker than Tristana had seen on any other asari. From what she saw, Kinriu certainly lived up to her position; Director of the Commando Corps of the Asari Republics.

_I'm sure she just loves attending all those formal parties. Plenty of time to look blankly at people and make them feel little and pathetic._

The room was a flood of activity. Every senior military official, aside from the High General herself, was present, moving around the room or sitting down at the table at their own pleasure. The voices of generals, admirals and air marshals flooded the room and echoed through Tristana's ears, all with a similar topic: the war. All about the war. Some talked about Cerberus, others about recent events such as the siege on the Citadel or Operation: Hornet's Nest, while some admirals praised the salarian victory at Mannovai. She even heard some talk about the UGC's involvement in the quarian-geth war, much to Tristana's disdain.

_Why waste time on those idiots? They brought it upon themselves. Let them all die. Easier on us._

Among them were some of the top scientists in the entirety of the Asari Republics, most of them coming from DPAR (Defense Projects Agency of the Republics). Every single egghead, from the top egghead to the lowly egghead testers, was here. Those responsible for the invention of some of the galaxy's most advanced weapons systems, defense technology and warships; it was DPAR who invented the antimatter explosive, after all. Prior to the war, they were also working on advanced particle weaponry, until the Reapers arrived and funding was prioritized to ship, weapon and vehicle manufacturing.

Sitting at the farthest end, the one closest to the viewscreen, was the lead presenter; Doctor Rana Thanoptis. For someone of her position, she looked awfully jumpy; her eyes constantly darted around the room, she kept readjusting her collar despite it looking fine, and she looked the palest shade of blue; she looked almost sickly. Tristana couldn't help her grimace.

_She looks about to throw up. Maybe DPAR has developed a new vomit collector and she's the test subject?_

After a moment, the room began to fall silent, the numerous occupants taking their seats the room was called to order. The scientists sat closer to the front, as they were obviously the stars of the show. Chairs shifted into position, throats were cleared, documents shuffled. After a moment, Rana Thanoptis stood up, Tristana straightened as she prepared to listen to what the scientist had to say. Rana straightened her labcoat, smiled and nodded, before turning to read off a datapad, "Thank you, members of High Command and DPAR for attending this emergency session. As you all know, these times are dire, and any edge we can get is one we must utilize, so I will be brief," tapping a button on her datapad, they all watched as an image appeared on the screen, showing a  _Sovereign_ -Class Reaper on the screen.

She looked up again, hands clasped behind her back, "As many admirals and ship commanders will atest to, Reapers, especially of the type you observe on the screen, have shown incredible resilience in combat, something of which our military has never encountered before. Initial attempts to apply tactics utilized against krogan warships during the Rebellions have proved useless, and with High Command running out of options, they ultimately turned to us for a solution," she sighed, dumping her datapad on the desk as she looked up at the room, "Unfortunately, without a specimen to experiment on, we've been forced to operate with what we have...which isn't much."

Tristana sighed, rolling her eyes as she spoke up, "Can you get to the point? The whole goddess be damned galaxy is short of resources. Have you found a weakness or not?"

Rana visually gulped, sniffing, "Well...nothing. We've found nothing."

Tristana frowned, noticing that generals and commanders in the room were sighing or rolling their eyes as they turned away, annoyed.

However, Tristana was surprised to notice the scientists frowning as well, looking up at Rana with annoyed glances. One scientist, the closest to Rana and sitting on her right, pointed at Rana, calling her out, "Excuse me, Thanoptis? We most certainly did find something!"

_What the fuck is this?_

Tristana looked between them all as if they were morons, her frown deepening with every second they spent fumbling with each other.

Rana shook her head, "Lies, all of it. Our tests proved inconclusive! We found...nothing!"

Kinriu looked unmoved as always, while Delana looked about to deflate at any moment. The seven commandos protecting the room all looked between each other, each of them just as befuddled as the other. The only ones not confused were the scientists themselves; no, they were just angry.

Finally, one of them stood up, almost shouting at Rana, "That's a lie! Why do you lie?" she turned to the rest of the room, her eyes finally landing on Kinriu, "We do not understand Miss Thanoptis' behaviour, but we assure you that our tests provided interesting results," she snatched the datapad from Rana's grip, typing on it as she connected a direct feed to the viewscreen. Tristana rolled her eyes, looking past the scientist and at Thanoptis. The asari's behaviour was most irregular; having lied and been called out on it, one would think she would be more defensive. But it seemed Rana had simply given in, sitting down dejectedly, looking blankly at the table. Tristana just couldn't figure out her motive.

_Why would you come here only to try and withhold vital information on the war effort? It doesn't even begin to make sense._

Her eyes were drawn away from Thanoptis as the feed appeared on the viewscreen, but something was wrong. The 'no signal' logo was onscreen for several seconds too long, and she could see the scientist typing more frustratingly at the datapad. After a few moments, she passed it on to her fellow scientist, who tried the same to no avail. Eventually, a signal did appear, but all that was shown was...nothing. Just a blank screen.

Delana finally spoke up, looking beyond annoyed, "Doctor, just what are we looking at here?"

"I'm...not sure," the scientist frowned, fumbling for words. She turned back to the room, shrugging, her mouth hanging open like a moron unable to comprehend a concept being taught to them. After a moment, she shrugged again, finally managing to form words, "We don't know. It appears...that the entire datapad has been wiped. Like...somebody just deleted everything. We had data. Statistics, weapons evaluation...we even had research on indoctrination and how best to detect and deal with it. We gathered as much of it as we could...we had petabytes of data, and its all gone!" After a moment, she hesitated, and all eyes turned to Thanoptis, who was still looking blankly at the table. This time however, Tristana noticed one new thing: her hands were twitching...it was very slight, but very noticable.

The scientist leaned against the table with her arms and leaned further in, getting her head lowered enough to get Thanoptis' attention. Rana looked up and into the scientist's eyes, and the scientist spoke with an almost harsh monotone, "Rana, where is the data? You collated it yourself. Where is it?"

Rana didn't answer at first, eyes looking at the rest of the room. Then...out of nowhere, catching Tristana offguard, she grinned, turning back to look at the scientist, "I destroyed it. All the research. Every single bit of it. Gone. I also wiped the backups, before you mention it. And those who knew about the data, and also had copies of it, and couldn't come...well, I arranged them to have some accidents."

Tristana's eyes widened.  _I'm so fucking confused. I...what?_

The scientist accusing her stepped back, looking almost...afraid of the person before her. Suddenly, her compatriot leaned forward, almost screaming, "Why!? Do you know how valuable that information was!? You've sent us back to square one, you imbecile!"

Rana just chuckled, rubbing her head tentacles before turning back to the rest of the room, "I...I guess you could say I had an awakening. I woke up one day, and realized that what we were doing is wrong. All of it. I did what I did to save the Asari Republics. That data would have spelt our destruction. I did what was necessary."

A third scientist, from the left side of the room, slammed her fist on the table, almost screaming, "Save!? That data was on Reaper ships and indoctrination! That  _exact_ information could have saved lives! If we found weaknesses, we could have used it against the enemy! You haven't saved anyone! You've doomed millions to die with your misguided, twisted morality!"

Tristana leaned forward, a single fist holding her head as her elbow braced on the table.  _That...doesn't make any sense. What part of destroying our research spells salvation to her?_

Rana just stood up, pointing an accusing finger at her, "Oh, shut up. All of you! Sitting there with indifference! Thinking you know the answer to your problems! You think the only way to win this is to destroy the Reapers! You're all fools! Morons! You would doom our civilization to complete annihilation! I saved our people! I did the right thing! I have saved lives! I'm here to show you a different path; a better path! That we should join the Reapers in harmony, not fight them!"

Tristana's eyes widened, finally realizing what had happened.  _Shit, I had heard reports..._

Kinriu immediately stood up, her face remaining blank despite her seriousness, "Doctor Thanoptis, I hope you realize what you're saying. You have already committed treason against the Republics for destroying government property. What you're saying now...I hope you understand the gravity of the situation, because what you're saying is very reminiscent of indoctrination."

_Shit, if she's been working for DPAR the entire time...what else has she sabotaged? How long has she been indoctrinated?_

Rana just laughed hysterically, backing away until she was against the viewscreen. She turned to Kinriu, waving a dismissive hand, "All you care about is your 'government property.' Never about the people. I bring you a chance to embrace the gifts the Reapers give us, and instead you decide to lecture me about 'indoctrination.' I'm not indoctrinated; I'm simply not deluded."

Delana shot up, almost shouting, "She  _is_ indoctrinated! Listen to her! She's an agent for the Reapers! She's a threat to global security!" she turned to the nearest commando, sounding almost like a rabid varren as she spat, "Sergeant, arrest her! Seize her and remove her from this room at once! She is an inside agent! An enemy of the state!  _Seize her_!"

Quick as a flash, two commandos moved in and seized Rana by both arms, rifles in their hands. The other commandos raised their own rifles at Thanoptis, in case she used her biotics to try and escape. To everyone's surprise...she didn't. A matter of fact, she didn't even make an effort to escape.

This made Tristana tense up, seriously worried.

Rana continued to chuckle, thrashing about in the arms of the commandos as they began to escort her from the room. Just before they got past the halfway mark, Rana stopped thrashing, falling completely limp. The commandos stopped, checking to see if Rana was awake. One of them looked up, the sergeant, and looked at Kinriu, shrugging, "She's unconscious, ma'am. No idea what's wrong with her. She seems to have just fainted."

"Wait, do you hear that?" Delana asked, and the room fell silent.

And Tristana indeed heard it. A low buzzing sound, getting louder. Suddenly, Rana began to glow, but to their horror, it wasn't the blue of biotics; it was a dull crimson glow, growing every brighter. Tristana had seen the reports. The reports of indoctrinated who had outlived their usefulness, but needed to go out with a literal bang...

Tristana immediately shot up, screaming, "EVERYBODY OUT! GET OUT NO-!"

A gigantic flash and a thunderous bang, along with a massive wave of heat, was all Tristana heard before the world went black with pain...

...and then ceased forever.

**{Loading...}**

_July 14, 2186_

_2000 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Omega._

_Captain Armistan Banes, General Oleg Petrovsky._

Cerberus' gradual transformation of Omega from a filthy, disgusting space-bound slums to a regular city-station was barely taking shape from what Banes had seen, but what little he had, he noticed that the transformation was taking shape.

Cerberus logos replaced those of the original Omega insignia. The mines of Omega, dormant under Aria's rule, were now roaring to life again, pumping out raw materials and minerals for Cerberus to use in their ever expanding war machine. The docks, which had once been teeming with civilian merchant traffic, were now largely dominated by Cerberus supply ships and warships, the latter mostly coming from Petrovsky's First Fleet. In civilian dominated sectors, Cerberus patrols were frequent, largely containing assault troopers, centurions, the new Rampart mechs and the occassional dragoon. Cerberus kodiak shuttles and Mantis gunships patrolled the skyline, helping the patrols to enforce law and order across the station. Crime was at an all time low among the civilian populace. And, of course, force fields, built from scavenged Collector technology, now segregated different sectors, allowing Cerberus to more easily control their new territory.

Perhaps the largest change was Afterlife; the former night club was almost entirely unrecognizable.

Moving through the door leading to the docks led him directly to the entrance to the former Afterlife, with skycar garages off to his left (now turned into a massive storage facility for shuttles, gunships, Atlases and numerous ground vehicles), and the markets off to his right (which had been moved, and most of the area turned into a barracks). Above the main entrance, there should have been a massive viewscreen, where orange electronic flames would have roared hot with holographic light in the old days of Aria T'Loak's shrine of supremacy.

Now, all that remained was the viewscreen itself. Now projected was the gold Cerberus insignia, static before doing a 360 spin every three seconds. Below it were the equally gold-coloured words of 'Humanity First and Always.' The front entrance, initially destroyed during the initial adjutant outbreak in the War for Omega, had been replaced with the now traditional white and grey doorways used by Cerberus nearly everywhere, except larger and wider to accomodate for the large entrance corridor. Where they had once been an almost non-stop line forming, with an elcor bouncer monotonously refusing the same stupid human imbecile from getting in, was now eerily absent, replaced by a line of six Rampart mechs, behind them being a pair of assault troopers talking amongst themselves. Even the original sign hanging over the entrance that said 'Afterlife' was now gone, now replaced with the white words, 'New Order.'

Banes approached, the CAW  _Deliverance_ having recently docked at Omega after Randall's failure to capture Tali'Shepard on Rannoch.  _Something the Illusive Man will not be surprised to hear, given the many failures we've suffered at Shepard's hands, but still disappointed about. He had really hoped this operation would succeed. Randall's a capable agent, but it seems at this point, Shepard has no equal._

He arrived at one of the six mechs who, unlike the two troopers behind them, stood absolutely still, looking blankly ahead with their four diagonally aligned crimson glowing eyes. They looked perputually angry, some of them carrying eviscerator shotguns while he noticed two of them carried harrier assault rifles. Banes couldn't help but appreciate their design; being heavily modified and redesigned LOKI mechs, the Rampart mechs possessed much thicker and prominent body armor, possessed an omni-blade and enforcement gauntlet, could deploy an omni-shield as well as activate tech armor, and were also much more nimble in combat. Being mechs, they performed their duty as stoically and coldly as a geth would in combat. The Illusive Man had wanted a mech capable of performing law enforcement duty during Omega's occupation, and the Rampart mech was his answer. Now, the Rampart mechs served as Omega's primary law enforcement, with thousands of them patrolling the station, day and night, non-stop, dealing harshly with those who got out of hand. Another aspect of them was that they possessed advanced heat shielding; a technology also recovered from the Collector Base's ruins. With this equipped, Rampart mechs could pass seamlessly through the force fields while not being harmed.

The Rampart mech held up its hand, before quietly holding up its hand and using its omni-tool to scan him. Unlike their inferior LOKI cousins, the Rampart mech's voicebox was removed, leaving absent the LOKI's basic battle dialogue they made such as announcing loudly that they were 'reloading' or 'locking onto target.' Another major improvement, given that the voices of LOKI mechs were also obnoxious, and that the Ramparts would serve to be far more intimidating if all they had was their robotic movement, 'muscular' presence and those damn red optics.

Finishing its scan, the two Ramparts infront of him simply parted to the side without a word, and he continued past them. The two assault troopers stopped what they were doing to salute him; he did not return the salute, simply moving past them and through the entrance way into the main corridor.

This, like the rest of the ex-club, had changed as well. The walls had once been covered in viewscreens, with more electronic flames roaring up the walls, creating the only lighting needed as an orange glow filled it, giving the feel of being hot without real flames. Sofas would line the walls, while patrons lounged around either picking fights or engaging in casual conversation. Now the viewscreens, on both sides, had been torn from the wall, with the walls in the process of being painted white and gold. The sofas were gone, leaving a largely empty corridor and lights installed along the ceiling. Like the entrance, the door ahead had been replaced, Banes walking past the two guardians flanking each side of the door. Stepping through, he emerged into the center of the old club, which had gone through the most changes.

Afterlife itself was almost unrecognizable. The center of the club; a massive pedestal where strippers and asari dancers had once earned their paycheck sliding around poles and shaking their asses at the patrons below had been torn down and scrapped, transformed into a large, circular holding pen; a cell, if anything else. However, unlike most cells, this one had four large pylons at each diagonal edge, pulsing a steady blue. These were inhibitors; once a person was in the cell, the inhibitors could be switched on, and a pulse of element zero would be conducted between the pylons, immobilizing them; the effect was identical to that of a biotic stasis field, but without the biotic to generate it.

Up the top, looking over what Petrovsky had dubbed his war room, was Aria's former lounge; the overhanging balcony where her personal couch once sat, where Aria could look over the entire room and admire her dancers from up high, was now replaced by Petrovsky's personal command center; a QEC device sat in the middle, while a large viewscreen displaying Omega's schematics sat at the back of an added platform; built ontop of where the old stairway to Aria's couch used to be. A large terminal was placed where Aria's couch once was, allowing Petrovsky access to the stationwide PA system, as well as allowing him to contact his troops all over the station, control the inhibitor and numerous other functions Banes wasn't aware of. To allow him to get down, two stairways flanking the platform were built to replace the one that was removed, allowing access from the left and right.

The left and right sides had changed dramatically as well. What had once been a bar on the right and private room entrance to the left, was now a series of offices. Placed on elevated positions, these offices had numerous desks and their respective terminals placed in an even line, where numerous Cerberus commanders worked. The left side was the only one occupied however; the right side was still under construction, with scaffolding and ladders lying around to atest to that.

Banes wasted no time in ascending the stairs to Petrovsky's command platform. The man sat behind his main terminal, listening to reports from his subcommanders. Behind him was his QEC, but to the left of that was a small, circular table with a chessboard resting ontop; Petrovsky's signature quirk.

_An odd one at that, but the man's tactical brilliance can't be denied. He's an asset to Cerberus and all humanity._

Petrovsky didn't even turn as he switched off his terminal and stood, straightening his uniform. The uniform was identical to an Alliance officer's uniform, but was white and gold instead of navy blue and black, and swapped out the Alliance insignia for the Cerberus golden hexagon.

"Captain Banes, your arrival was unscheduled," the general stated with his oddly neutral American accent, despite his obviously Russian name. He turned to face Banes, hands clasped behind his back and broad shoulders demonstrating the man's well-built frame and experience in the Alliance military. Banes had never seen Petrovsky in person, only heard of him; it was thanks to fate that they were even here to meet. His raven black chair was cropped and short, and his eyebrows were large and punctual. He had small, hazel green eyes and a large nose, accentuated darkened white skin. His head was almost square-ish in shape, with a taut jawline, and well-defined cheekbones. He had a jet black goatee that was the same dark color as his hair, with a similarly black moustache that connected. He moved with an air of authority Banes couldn't hope to match, and carried himself like an experienced and knowledgeable general; something he very much was.

Banes nodded, scratching his head, "Major Ezno ran into complications in his mission to capture Shepard's wife. The mission was a failure and we've been redirected by Cerberus Command to Omega. I'm awaiting further instructions from the Illusive Man himself."

Petrovsky nodded; brisk and to the point. Petrovsky didn't possess any mannerisms Banes could name, but that nod was surely one of them; simple and precise. Declaring understanding, but leaving his emotional reaction as neutral as possible.  _So far, he's everything I've come to expect from a man of his reputation. His capture of Omega has become legendary within Cerberus. Taking the station, let alone from someone has stubborn and dangerous as Aria T'Loak, was no easy feat._

"Then you best not keep him waiting," Petrovsky replied, motioning to the projector, "He is waiting."

Banes frowned, looking between the projector and the general, "Already? We only just arrived."

Petrovsky walked back towards the projector, Banes following behind him. Arriving infront of it, Petrovsky explained, "The Illusive Man was not happy about your failure, but he was made aware of your arrival at Omega; he gave that order himself, after all. He wishes to discuss with you the next step we'll be taking in dealing with Shepard."

Banes nodded, gulping, "Very well, then."

Petrovsky moved to the terminal and hit the necessary commands, Banes watching as a holographic projection of the Illusive Man appeared before his very eyes. Glowing bright blue with holographic pixels, the Illusive Man was seated in the same chair he always sat in, smoking the same type of cigar and with the same glass of bourbon sitting on the arm of his chair. He sat back, one leg crossed ontop of the other, one arm lying across the chair and holding his glass while the other leaned on its elbow on the other armrest, holding the cigar tightly between two fingers, smoke trailing from the end. The Illusive Man's piercing, blue cybernetic eyes were hard to miss even through the projection, locking onto Banes almost immediately. Everything about the man's pose was the same, although gathering from his skin, he looked like he had aged a dozen years since he last saw him in person.

"Captain Banes. General Petrovsky," the Illusive Man immediately spoke, taking another puff from his cigar, before taking it away from his lips to blow out another burst of smoke, "I am disappointed to have heard of Major Ezno's failure, but it seems, ultimately, this failure was inevitable. I should have foreseen the outcome myself."

"Sir?" Banes questioned.

The Illusive Man's eyes locked onto him again, always seeming to judge every inch of his character. Banes felt uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny, but always managed to hide it. The Illusive Man wasn't fond of weakness or hesitation, especially not since starting this war against the UGC. This time he spoke, less judgmentally than he thought he would, "Yes, captain. Captain Shepard has never failed to demonstrate his resourcefulness in and out of combat. Taking on his squad with just some assault troopers and our best manhunter was foolhardy at best. But I wanted to see how Ezno performed against Shepard. From what I've heard, he did not perform too badly. He almost succeeded; if it wasn't for unforeseen variables, its likely success would have been possible. Unfortunately, deploying a team on Rannoch of all places was foolhardy to begin. I believe that the next time will not be as lucky for Shepard."

"We almost destroyed the  _Normandy_ last time, sir," Banes declared, straightening himself as he quickly realized the Illusive Man would not be reprimanding him like he did Leng at the Citadel, "It is my belief that, with the proper resources and right amount of time, the  _Deliverance_ can succeed in doing so next time."

"That is also my belief, captain," the Cerberus leader replied, taking a sip of his bourbon before sitting it down again, "Which is why the  _Deliverance_ 's primary mission, from henceforth, will be the destruction of the  _Normandy_. Shepard has become a nuisance Cerberus can no longer afford. I will not condone it any longer," he turned to Petrovsky, exhaling, "General, Omega will now serve as the headquarters for the  _Deliverance_ until further notice. You will devote what resources you can to aiding in their mission to kill Shepard and his team."

Petrovsky nodded, "My troops are having little trouble dealing with the local resistance, so what resources I can devote are yours, Captain Banes." He nods to Banes, who nods back, turning back to the Illusive Man.  _With Petrovksy to help, I have no doubt dealing with Shepard will become nothing but an exercise in inevitability._

Suddenly, Petrovsky changed the topic slightly, "Speaking of Omega, sir, but I have not heard much about Titan in a while. I can control Omega for as long as necessary, but at this point, possessing our own space station would be far less costly at this point."

The Illusive Man nodded, snuffing out his cigar in the ash tray beside him, "I agree, Petrovsky. Which is why we are building Titan to begin with. I simply cannot continue to commit troops and resources to holding Omega for much longer. However, with the resources we are mining from Omega's mines, I have heard that Project Titan is nearing closer to completion every day. Once built, we will have our own way from which to control the Terminus Systems. Until then, we will continue to mine Omega for every last scrap of resources."

"Understood, sir," Petrovsky replied, saluting, "We are having to mine more slowly than we'd like; the drills haven't seen use for centuries and are very old; we don't want to strain them too much. But we are getting what's needed, and I'll make sure half is sent to Titan and half to other Cerberus facilities as planned. We will not falter."

"Excellent," was the reply, followed by yet another sip of alcohol, "We may have lost Eden Prime and failed to take the Citadel, but remember this: we hold Omega. As long as we continue to do so with impunity, our enemy cannot do anything to weaken us. Once Titan is built, we can destroy Omega and deny our enemy their foothold permanently. And once Titan is completed, we can dedicate further resources to Keyhold. Until then, you must hold Omega, general. I have faith in your capability to do so. Hold Omega and assist Banes in destroying the  _Normandy_ any way you can. If possible, and only  _if_ possible, recover the  _Normandy_ intact. It cost us billions of credits to have that ship built, and I would like to recover that investment if at all possible. If not, scuttle it. Its an advantage the UGC cannot be allowed to continually utilize. I want to be made aware of any and all developments pertaining to this mission," with that, he gave a final nod, hitting the control on his chair for the QEC, "Back to it, gentleman." The hologram then winked out, the pixels evaporating near instantly and the QEC powering down.

With a sigh, Banes turned back to Petrovsky, who had already turned to him.

"We have our mission then," Banes declared, gritting his teeth, "Destroy Shepard. That's a tall order, but it can be done."

Petrovsky nodded, "Nobody is infallible, as I have learnt. I admire the man, but there is a point in which such men become a danger to themselves and to progress. Shepard is a danger to everything we represent. If our cause is to survive, he must be stopped. In this, the Illusive Man and I wholeheartedly agree."

Banes nodded, before relaxing his shoulders, "I must return to the  _Deliverance_ and ponder our next move. Shall we meet again tomorrow to discuss plans for dealing with Shepard? I can bring Major Ezno."

Petrovsky frowned at that, "Why not Operative Leng?"

Banes shook his head, "Nothing more than an attack dog, I'm afraid. His special forces reputation gives him too much benefit. He's a rabid animal, not a tactician. Best to leave him out of it."

"Ah," Petrovsky motioned to his chessboard, a ghost of a smile, "A pawn."

Banes shrugged, "I guess you could call him that."  _A fairly accurate description, actually. He really is about as useful and little as a pawn._

"Very well. I would also like to meet this Major Ezno. We can discuss tactics tomorrow. 0900 hours," Petrovsky declared, offering his hand, "I have a feeling this will be a productive relationship, Captain Banes."

Banes took the offered hand, shaking it firmly, "I get the same feeling."

_And hopefully Shepard will die this time. I can see the Illusive Man has had enough of him getting in the way._

_And so have I._

_**A/N:** _

_**I wrote this the day before my next exam? Risky.** _

_**But its Maths so...fuck it, I don't care.** _

_**I like doing these kinds of chapters; world-building, I call it. After all, we have taken a large break from the Reaper War itself, so it makes sense to have a 'previously on...', for lack of a better term. The next couple of chapters will have themes like this, but we'll eventually get back to good old Normandy ass-kicking.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	60. Qualifications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard surprises Tali and Garrus upon their arrival at the Citadel. Joker and EDI go on a proper date. Nyreen leads the Talons in resistance against the Cerberus occupation on Omega.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-SIX:**

**QUALIFICATIONS**

_July 31, 2186_

_1846 hours._

_Docking Bay D24, Shalta Docks, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega._

The door cycled as per usual and shot open, opening up the ever busy and bustling docking bay, men and women of every species going about their daily business, either running or walking. Some people were relaxed; he saw one couple, a human male and female, looking out the observation window, appreciating the form of the  _Normandy_ docked outside, lights reflecting off its hull as skycars and other vessels shot by. There was an asari just ahead who looked to be weeping, head held in her hands as a turian corpsman walking away with his head held low, the weight of his news obvious to him immediately as the asari proceeded to walk back into the railing and slide to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.

A pair of technicians, a human and a salarian, were present at Avina's terminal, both of them wearing the uniform of the Citadel's Electrical Maintenance Commission. The salarian was crouched on the right side of the terminal, hands messing around with wires located within Avina's deactivated holographic terminal. The human stood to the left, leaning against a wall with a cigarette in hand, smoke trailing from his lips as he looked to be having a conversation with his fellow engineer. The conversation didn't look happy; the human frowned, seeming contemplative.

A row of four C-Sec officers, dressed in combat gear and wielding an assortment of assault rifles and shotguns, was lined up on their immediate right, their faces seeming to be made of stone...three turians and a salarian. Two female Alliance soldiers stood not too far from the working technicians, neither of them in their standard issue HYPERION-82 armor, but wearing their dress blues, the image of side-faced black winged eagle superimposed on an equally black shield immediately telling him they were not marines, but Army troopers. The sergeant held out her omni-tool and scrolled through its contents, while the private beside her, standing ram-rod straight and hands clasped behind her back in parade rest, seemed to be having an argument with her. As Marcus and his cohort got closer, he was able to make out elements of their argument.

"...assignment is the decision of FOCOM, not you," the sergeant spat, deactivating her omni-tool as she turned to the private, glaring at her, "What makes you special, Private Talavi? You think because you're a geek that gives you special provisions? I don't give a shit if the Reapers spook you. I don't care if their husks are horrifying enough to remind you of Sunday breakfast. And I most certainly don't give a damn that you  _believe_ you're better off staying back. So what makes you so important, private? Tell me. Tell me right here, right now."

"Sergeant Olembe, ma'am," the private named Talavi responded, the private's dark-skin reflecting with the light of the docking bay, eyes glistening with tears, "I'm no coward, ma'am, and I'm no shirker. I'm not asking to be dismissed. I'm asking to be reassigned. The Reapers may be scary, but that is not the reason I'm requesting this. I'd be better off fighting Cerberus, ma'am."

"And why's that?" The sergeant replied, "You think you'll kill Cerberus better?"

Talavi shook her head, "Revenge, sergeant. My little brother...he was on Benning when Cerberus abducted the colony. We all know what happens to those they abduct, ma'am."

Olembe's tone was much lighter, her position relaxing, "I see. How old was he?"

Talavi hesitated before replying, "Just fifteen, sergeant. He was going to turn 16 last week."

Olembe nodded, "And you want a chance to save your brother?"

Talavi shook her head, "He can't be saved, sarge. You know that, I know that. I want a chance to kill some Cerberus...make right the wrongs they committed. If my brother is among those I kill...at least he will no longer be a tool for those bastards to use. He'll be free."

Olembe nodded, clearing her throat before she shrugged, "Well...I understand your predicament, Private Talavi. But I can't argue with FOCOM. If they want you fighting Reapers, you'll be fighting Reapers. As simple as that."

_Damn it. I'm walking by, I might as well._

Holding up a hand for his team to stop, he moved over to the two, making his presence known as Olembe turned to address him, likely seeing his approach in her peripheral vision. She must have recognized him, as her eyes went wide, followed by a sharp salute. Talavi turned and did the same, likely recognizing him as well.

He briefly returned the salute, before dropping his hand, the other two following his example, "I overheard your conversation. Sergeant, I will personally forward a message to FOCOM telling them that Private Talavi's expertise would be better wielded against Cerberus troops. We become so focused on the main enemy that we often forget their allies. We musn't make that mistake. Cerberus is just as dangerous as the Reapers."

"Thank you so much, sir," Talavi blurted out, much to Olembe's noticable annoyance, but Talavi quickly corrected herself, snapping another salute, "I will not waste this chance you've given me, sir. All those assholes will pay."

Olembe nodded, turning to Talavi, "Make sure to kill some for me too, private. I had friends on this station when Cerberus attacked the station; search and rescue teams found them gunned down in their own apartment with cold pizza on the table and a game of Alliance Corsairs on the vidscreen. They were murdered in cold blood while off duty," her face hardened, and Marcus nodded, "So Talavi, you kill as many as possible. Don't let a single one live."

The private nodded, "I won't disappoint, sarge. I'll knock 'em dead."

Marcus let the two of them be as he turned to his group of assorted squadmates; Tali, Garrus, Liara, Keeling and James stood by the observation window, the couple from before having likely walked away to give them space. Tali was braced against the railing, laughing at some joke Garrus had told her as he stood braced against it as well on her right, mandibles clicking with his own laughter. James and Keeling stood with arms crossed, Keeling shifting a loose lock of ginger hair behind one ear as she tried to keep a straight face, James likely telling her one of his ridiculous tales of heroism or bravery. Liara was on her omni-tool, likely keeping track of her innumerable private army of operatives and paramilitarists. The asari seemed to never take a single break.

_All work and no play. She'll need to take a break eventually._

He moved up to James and Keeling, Keeling turning towards him with something akin to gratefulness in her eyes; although, from the looks of it, she had actually been enjoying Vega's story. Enjoyment and happiness seemed to be two things in low quantity for Keeling. Marcus always found her in the shuttle bay either exercising or practicing at her prefab shooting range. He had to admit, working alongside a fellow N7 was always a pleasure, but he had never seen a more hardcore special forces operative in all his time in the service. She rarely smiled or attempted to engage in crew activities. And after her incident in the shuttle bay with James...he now knew why.

_We all have our inner demons, and so does she. Seems like James is trying to crack the shell._

If the marine was making any progress on the N7, it wasn't showing. Keeling turned with a sigh, regarding Marcus as he approached, "Glad you returned, sir. Any longer and Lieutenant Vega here would have talked my ear off."

James chuckled, "You know you love my stories, Lola. And what have I said about calling me James, or even Vega? Not everything is rank and formality, you know."

Keeling rolled her eyes, "Rank and formality is what I've got and I'm sticking with it. Didn't make it this far up the food chain without somekind of respect for those who yank said chain."

James' grinned only grew, "What's that? Did you just admit to respecting me? Do I 'yank your chain', so to speak?"

Keeling just scoffed, shaking her head, "Cortez was right. You are a bear. A machoist, stubborn, relentless bear."

James just guffawed, his arms crossed as he regarded his fellow soldier with simple amusement, "You shouldn't listen to 'ol Esteban. He likes to talk a lot. I think that shuttle has made him a bit high on his self-esteem."

Marcus held up a hand, stopping the both of them before their 'argument' could develop any further. _James is interested, she clearly isn't. You'd think James would get the hint._ "At least Cortez didn't trash a shuttle, Vega. Now, both of you, I expect you to play nice."

Keeling sighed, rubbing her forehead, before reluctantly shaking her head, "Just some friendly banter, sir. I'm sure Lieutenant Vega meant nothing by it."

Marcus turned to James, who was still grinning whole and wide, arms crossed over his broad chest. He turned to Marcus, noticing the man's raised eyebrow, and his grin gave way to a reluctant exhale, "Yeah, sure thing, Loco. What Lola said; just some friendly banter, no hate between soldiers. Just like you and Scars, right?"

 _Yeah, Garrus and I admittedly do banter quite a lot. Probably too much. But nothing quite like your banter, Vega._ Those thoughts remained in his head as he nodded to the both of them, "Good. Just banter then."

Keeling nodded, cracking her neck as she also cracked her knuckles, looking ready to pick a fight. He frowned at that. Keeling took notice of his expression, and immediately straightened, as if she had been caught out on something by a drill sergeant, "Sir, heard the Alliance camp has set up a training facility. Lots of guns and equipment, sir. Would like to head down there to train, sir. Equipment on the  _Normandy_ is fine, but it lacks a few essential items to staying fit and capable for combat. And we won't always be in a combat scenario. Permission to leave, sir?"

Marcus stratched the back of his head, nodding, "Sure thing, Keeling. But please stop asking my permission for stuff. Sure, tell me you're going down there, but stop acting like I need to give you permission for every little thing. Just let me know you're headed down there just so I know. Understood?"

A few moments, and Keeling finally nodded, "Yes...sir. Understood...Shepard."

"Good. Then you're dismissed," he nodded once more, and Keeling snapped back from her position and headed down the corridor towards the security checkpoint, Marcus suddenly understanding the lack of dress blues and the simple shirt and jeans; even her hair was tied fully back, something which she never did when off duty.

Before James could even ask, he held up a hand, halting the marine in his footsteps. Looking up, he gave a single nod, but was quick to poke the man in the chest with a pointed finger, "Don't harass her, Vega. I can tell you like her, but give her some space. Remember what happened."

The marine frowned, "What? I don't..."

"James," he cut him off, looking up at him with an annoyed frustration, "I just know. Promise you won't push her over the edge. I need everybody at their finest."

James sighed, nodding one final time, "Understood, Shepard."

The marine took off down the corridor after Keeling, shouting at her to wait. No doubt the N7 was slightly annoyed that James had chosen to follow her, but Marcus was skeptical that would deter the marine. He could tell his interest in Keeling was more than just friendly, but he wasn't going to get in the way of anything. It was Vega's death sentence, after all.

The rest of the group was waiting for him as he moved towards them, Liara having closed her omni-tool and joined Tali and Garrus, the asari apparently laughing at the same joke the turian had already told Tali.

As he arrived at Garrus' right, he leaned his back against the railing, a raised eyebrow cementing his following question, "If it has Liara and Tali laughing, it must be a pretty good joke, Garrus. Do tell."

The turian turned to him with a grin, mandibles spread wide, "Inside joke, Marcus."

"You wouldn't get it," Tali added.

"Utterly ridiculous," Liara concluded.

He looked at them for a few seconds, eyes darting between the three of them, but the action yielded no response. They just stood there, looking at him, waiting for him to say something. In the end, he simply sighed, shaking his head, "Fine, keep it to yourself. Kasumi told me a funny joke about you, Garrus. And I think Javik delivered one hell of a knee-slapper about you, Liara. And Tali? Well, let's just say Kaidan had a very funny joke about quarians," his grin grew, noticing the three of them tense up slightly, "Of course...they're all inside jokes. Couldn't possibly tell. Joker-listener confidentiality. You know."

"Are you messing with us?" Garrus asked inquisitively, and Marcus simply shrugged, refusing to relent to the turian's prodding.  _You tease me, I tease you. Of course, Kasumi, Javik and Kaidan said no such things, but they needn't know. Shit, I think Javik actually did make a joke about Liara, though...ah, fuck it._

Seeing that Marcus refused to give a response, Garrus sighed, shaking his head, "Oh, fine. The joke was about how I managed to beat you at sniping, and that you aren't as good a soldier as you think are."

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head, "Oh, really? Did you forget to mention the part where we were shooting bottles?"

Garrus winced, and Liara leaned in, a grin on her face, "No, I don't believe Garrus mentioned that."

The turian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here, "It was a...trivial detail," he quickly stood up, pointing a finger at the N7, "In my defense, bottles are hard to hit, especially with a sniper rifle. You missed most of your shots."

Marcus held up his hands, smirk still prominent on his face, "Hey, you're the one who wants to keep the bottles from revolting. I just plan on taking out actual targets who are actually threatening, Garrus. And they're typically bigger than something that contains my chosen poison."

The turian shook his head, "You're impossible," he turned to him, a metaphorical eyebrow raised, "So? What did Kasumi tell you?"

"What?" he pretended to be hard to get, and upon seeing Garrus annoyed expression, continued his coy antics, "Oh, she told me nothing. I just said she did to get you to spill the beans. Nothing like a manufactured scenario to get somebody talking, eh?"

"You've got to be kidding me..." Garrus scowled, rubbing his forehead, "I, uh...guess I had that one coming, didn't I?"

"Of course you did," he slapped the turian on the back lightly, Garrus continuing to shake his head, "This is why I always beat you in poker. You really suck on picking up when somebody's bluffing."

"Note to my damn self," Garrus grumbled, the turian begrudgingly 'slouching' against the railing in defeat, the two women beside him giggling slightly as Marcus turned to them.

"So, all jokes aside, what do we all want to do while we're here?" Marcus asked, "The  _Normandy_ 's resupplying, so we've got a full two days of free time. So how about it? Hang out on the Presidium? Cause some mayhem at the Armax Arena? Shopping on the Silversun Strip? I have no idea what to do, so I'm leaving it up to you guys."

"Argh," Tali shook her head insistently, clearly disagreeing with what he said, "No shopping. Unless its for weapon upgrades or tech, I don't want anything to do with it. Especially if Kasumi is involved. I love her like a sister, but keelah, does she get insistent when it comes to shopping, especially if it's clothes."

"Not particularly fond of shopping myself," he complimented; at least that was another thing they could both agree with.  _Unless its armor, weapons or the usual necessities like grocery or some basic clothes, I hate the concept of shopping. I pity Tali that Kasumi basically drags her out there simply on the premise that she's not 'girly' enough._

"That's not fair!" Liara exclaimed, the asari's hands coming to rest on her hips, "I just happen to love shopping."

Garrus waved a hand at the asari, "Nobody's stopping you, Liara. This shore leave doesn't have to be a group expedition," he turned to Marcus, and then glanced at Tali, bringing him to his next point, "Especially since I refuse to sit in a room with you two. I'll be forgotten faster than it takes for the mask to come off."

Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but Garrus beat him to it, holding up a single hand, "Don't even try to refute it, either of you. You know it's true."

Marcus simply shrugged, smirking, "I was going to say that you're feeling a bit like the third wheel. You wouldn't be if you kept company with a certain thief."

"For the love of..." the turian groaned, mandibles clicking in irritation, "It's just a fling! How many times must we both say it!"

"Say it all you want, Mr. Vakarian," Liara added, poking the turian in the shoulder, "But we all know there's more to it than a simple fling."

Marcus, under his breath, and with an exaggerated cough, added, "My wedding." Another cough, and he turned back to the turian, pretending to clear his throat. He saw Garrus glaring at him, and he just held up his hands in a 'no idea what you're talking about' pose, smile almost reaching his cheeks, "What? I've got a cold, that's all."

The turian shook his head, turning back to look through the observation window, an Alliance  _Warsaw_ -class frigate passing by with a trio of SX5 Yellowjacket interceptors keeping alongside its dorsal side, "What happened at the wedding...that was all part of it. There's nothing between us. Can we leave it at that?"

"Touchy subject?" he prodded, "Perhaps you like Kasumi more than you're willing to admit, and she likes you more than she's willing to commit?"

The turian sighed, "Please, Marcus. Leave it be." The turian's voice was not as light-hearted anymore; what he heard was a genuine plea for him to stop, and Marcus knew that when he heard that tone, it really was time to stop.  _Definitely more going on between the two of them, though. I'm sure of it._

He held up his hands in defeat, "Okay, okay. No more talking about...whatever you guys have going on," he turned back to Tali and Liara, "So? Any ideas at all? I'm stumped, and I really need to get away from all the datapads and battlefield reports. Hackett's tried his best to keep me away from them, but they're starting to pile up, and I need to ease off some stress; I mean, come on. We just changed the course of history for the second time. That's a lot of work we need a pay off for; other than the obvious millions of geth and quarian troops we'll be getting."

"Agreed," Tali agreed, standing up from the railing and straightening her combat suit; her old suit having been forever lost on the  _Machina_ when it was destroyed, "The fact that I'm no longer leading an entire fleet and I'm back to being chief engineer is enough for me."

"Chief engineer?" Marcus queried with a raised eyebrow, "I wonder how Adams feels about that?"

Tali raised a finger, halting any further thoughts he had on the matter, "I'll have you know that I didn't just steal engineering out from under him. I was going to regulate myself to being just another engineer like I did on the SR-1, but apparently Adams believed Ken and Gabby reacted better to my command regimen, and so he handed command back over to me. Apparently I'm the only one who can keep Ken in check, and Gabby already respects me, so there's that too."

Garrus chuckled, looking up at Marcus, "So basically your wife took over engineering through mere presence. Nice."

Tali rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "I did  _not_ take over. Adams simply transferred operational command over to me."

"Yeah," the turian countered, "Through the coercion of presence. You may not know it Tali, but when you're in your element, you're pretty scary. I heard tales from Ken back during our fight against the Collectors. Apparently you ordered him to crawl through a duct, and when he made an offhand comment regarding something about 'quarian bumbums moving through ducts' being 'delicious', you almost gave him a concussion...as well as one hell of a ringing ear. He was deaf for the rest of the day, you know."

Marcus looked up at her, incredulous, "First I've heard about this."

Tali looked to contemplate her next words very carefully, before her signature wringing off the hands followed, "Well...he was being a little shit. So...I might have hit him across the head with a wrench...just a little tap. And I might have caused his omni-tool to emit a high-pitched static into his ears...that might have made him useless for the rest of the day. And Gabby and I  _may_ have shared a laugh or two at his expense."

Liara giggled, holding her face as the humour of the described situation got to her, "That's...pretty funny...to picture...in my head..."

"Now I know why Kenneth kept complaining about headaches," Marcus shook his head, stiffling his own laughter in an attempt to look serious, "My wife is evil. I may have made a mistake."

"Marriage is always a mistake," Garrus added, looking up at the human, "Its just a mistake we're willing to make, and one we'll end up being happy with, no matter how much we joke about it being otherwise."

"This coming from an unmarried man," Marcus joked, resisting the urge to bring up Kasumi again.

The turian shrugged, "Hey, sometimes the observer knows more than they let on."

Liara looked ready to respond when her omni-tool went off, a dull ping letting her know that she had received a message. The asari darted to it as if wanting to escape the current conversation, and Marcus had to once again hold back a chuckle at the movement. Garrus kept his laugh back far more poorly, a snort exploding from his mandibles as he stiffled the rest of his laugh. Liara took no notice though, quickly opening her omni-tool and reading the message. As she read it though, her eagerness turned into a smile, and after finishing it, turned off her omni-tool, and looked up...

...she nodded to Marcus.

He straightened, smile widening as he knew what she meant.  _It's time._

Garrus frowned, looking up at the human, "What are you smiling about?"

Tali leaned back against the railing, arms crossed, "Something we don't know about?"

_You'd freak if you did._

Marcus nodded to Liara. The asari nodded back, turning to the turian and quarian with her hands folded infront of her, "The Council has summoned us to the Council Chambers. They wish an audience with us."

Garrus' frown deepened, "The Council has summoned us? And you're smiling about it? And somehow you two knew about it, which means that only something good can be coming out of this," he glanced between the two of them, sighing, "And only you two know anything about it...which means it has to do with either me or Tali, doesn't it? Or both?"

Marcus' lips creased, impressed at how much Garrus had figured out, "Very good. I almost forgot you were a detective back in your day. You know the best bit? We're not telling you either. You have to find out for yourself."

"A surprise?" Tali asked. Seeing Liara nod, the quarian let her head fall into one hand, shaking her head, "I hate surprises."

Marcus clapped his hands together, rubbing them together like an excited child about to have Christmas dinner, "Best not keep them waiting then if you want to find out. I think you'll like it."

And so the four of them departed, moving through the security checkpoint before reaching the elevator. After that, it was a simple wait while the elevator rose to the top of the Citadel Tower, where the Council Chambers. Thanks to the large glass window making up the back of the elevator and its second exit door, they were able to see themselves ascending high above the beautiful Presidium, followed by their swift exit and departure into the tower, where they could see the wards stretched out before them in every direction, every bit as titanic as they seemed, the massive ARW  _Destiny Ascension_ by the sheer immensity of the station itself.

_Weird that only three years ago we were ascending this very elevator to stop Saren. Sovereign was wrapped around the top of the tower, the wards were closed, no ships could be seen, and we were armed to the teeth...so much has changed, but the Citadel has remained almost the same. A sign of peace. Even in an apocalyptic war such as this one, the Citadel still manages to capture an essence of peace and tranquility that no other station can do. Perhaps that's what the Reapers intended it for._

_A lie. A deception. An entrapment of values the Reapers didn't represent. Everything they were opposed to._

Marcus couldn't find any other way the Reapers could be described: they were pure evil.

_Focus on winning the war. Get the resources to finish the Crucible. Then we can wipe out that evil. Until then...we have this._

The elevator finally arrived at the top of the tower, the Council Chambers opening up before them. They moved down the open hallway, ascending the steps to find a large fountain. Three years ago, its design had been fairly simplistic; a simple spire where water sprouted from, descending into the tightly isolated pool that served as its base, the sound of water impacting water weirdly calming and peaceful. It was destroyed when the geth attacked, and the simple spire had since been replaced with a large memorial statue. Marcus stopped for a moment, having seen it before, but never quite taking the time to acknowledge it.

Put quite simply, it was a statue of him. Clad in his old Hoplite combat armor he stood, one leg perched on an elevated piece of encapsulized rubble, his stony expression visible through the helmet as he looked up. His Diamond Back assault rifle, poorly represented by the Alliance standard issue M-8, lay on the ground beside him, his fists empty and balled into tight fists at his side. But he was not alone. Standing beside were a trio of Alliance marines, one of them lying against a stone in the middle, hand craddling his side while the other gripped a shotgun, pointed off to the right to aim at an unseen enemy. His helmet was removed, his expression that of conviction and courage. On his left was another marine, this one standing proud and tall, assault rifle aimed where Marcus was facing, his helmet fastened on. The third and final marine was at Marcus' back, hand held up as if to bring up biotics. Below all of it, and located at the front, was a simple memorial plaque.

"The Heroes of the Citadel: Eternal Is Their Sacrifice, Clear Is Their Reflection."

Garrus must have noticed his expression, a hand gripping his shoulder, "Just as many marines gave their lives to save the Citadel as we shed blood, Marcus. Besides, we know what we did. Doesn't matter if the galaxy does to."

He nodded, "That's besides the point, Garrus. You and Tali should be up there. Liara, Wrex, Kaidan...they all should be up there. We put a stop to Saren."

"And the Fifth Fleet destroyed Sovereign," Liara added, "Garrus is right, Marcus. Your species made itself a known quantity on that day. Be proud. I know I would be."

"Although I can see why some of the Citadel races thought humanity was getting too much too quickly," Tali added, "My people have been part of the galactic community since 78 CE, and we didn't get a Council seat until our war with the batarians; many centuries later. The humans have only been around since 2157 CE, and they already have an embassy, their own statue in the Council Chambers no less and a Council seat. Your people have achieved much and more."

"Guess it doesn't matter much anymore," he sighed, looking up at the representation of himself towering over him by a good few feet, "Their sacrifice was for nothing. It did nothing to stop the Reapers coming, and the Council didn't even end up listening to our warning; neither did the Alliance. They spat on the bodies of their own dead just so they could suck up to the Council. So many men and women died to save us all...and they were forgotten within a year. I've never been more ashamed of my species, Liara."

"Everyone will remember now," Liara reinforced, grabbing him and turning him around, "We remember what we did. The whole galaxy will now remember what was done here, on the Citadel, three years ago, and they will look back upon it with equal parts of shame and conviction. Their sacrifice is more relevant now then it was three years ago."

"You're forgetting, Marcus," Tali began, joining Liara, "There's one thing the Reapers were deprived of when they invaded; the Citadel. We stole that from them, and because of that, we have a better chance of victory than any other cycle before us. We stand right here, on the Citadel, when it should already be gone and under Reaper occupation. They died for  _that_. It means more than you let on. We might not like the Council, but at least they're still here to complain about. We have our government. The protheans didn't have that. That is worth something."

Garrus moved forward one final time, joining the other two, "That battle wasn't a waste. We're still here, and we're making the best of it. It isn't the way we wanted it...but its what we've got. No point moping about what could have been when we could be making use of what is."

"Fuck," Marcus grumbled, moving to sit on the edge of the pool, "You guys are right, as always. I guess our impending doom can make us forget the little glimmers of hope we still have, yeah?"

"Forgetting those glimmers of hope is often what lets the doom prevail," Liara reinforced, "So don't focus on it."

A brief nod and he straightened himself, the acrimony he felt towards the Council and the Alliance slowly ebbing away as he shut it away. More pessimism and bitterness in an already bleak atmosphere wasn't necessary, especially when they had already achieved so much together. Rubbing his head he motioned for them to follow, and they slowly moved away from the statue, escaping whatever bitterness was attached to it.

_That's all in the past now...got to get to grips with it._

_Jenkins, Ashley, Pressly, Johnson...the Alliance swept away what they did, and yet now they'll be heralded as the heroes they were. Pressly and Johnson were avenged. Jenkins got his payback from beyond the grave. And Ashley's spirit continues to drive us forward._

The four of them descended the steps ahead without any further mention of the statue, his three comrades electing to give him space, given that he had a lot on his mind. The thought that he had just given hope to billions of geth and millions of quarians, only to have to read the reports of the hopelessness befalling the galaxy. The endless reports, casualty lists, fallen worlds, entire sectors lost...

The central area of the Council Chambers hadn't changed much from three years ago, before Saren's attack. Large and wide, the Chambers had its own lighting, but most of it came from the purple glow of the Serpent Nebula, mixed with the bright potency of the Widow star, which beamed together so brightly it provided the only natural lighting in the entire chamber. It came in through a massive observation window at the front of the Chambers, just behind the Council pedestals.

In the middle, looking just as out of place as they did previously, was the pair of tall, alien-looking trees in the middle, their branches sprouting upwards as if to reach the ceiling, but falling woefully short by several meters. They were situated in a small pasture of dirt and grass, looking almost as if somebody had simply cut out a piece of some garden world and dumped it in the Chambers. And in contrast with the sleek, silver and grey interior of the Chambers, its greenery was an ugly invasion of colors and nature isolated in a world of artificial contours.

Moving about were several of the Council species; asari delegates, salarian military operatives, turian officials, hanar missionaries, volus accountants, elcor registrars and the odd drell diplomats. He was surprised to find five quarians, a female and four males, standing beside one of the trees in a circle, talking to each other. Marcus had to admit he was surprised that the quarians had already started to mingle on the Citadel, given that Gerrel arrived with the fleet only a few hours ago. Yet again, the quarians were very much big on business, and when it came to getting something done, they got it done immediately.

One of the males didn't fail to notice them walking by, and he motioned to his compatriots to let them know. The five turned and seemed to recognize them, their veils and salutes immediately giving away that they were members of the military. The blue veil of the female and one of the males indicated they were ship's captains, while the three males were likely just standard marines. They made no sound, simply saluting while they walked by. Marcus, out of respect, returned the salute as they moved past.

Once they were out of their hearing, Garrus quickly closed the gap, "Surprising we didn't see any geth. You'd think they'd be the ones with the most reason to speak with the Council given they were public enemy number one not too long ago."

Marcus shrugged, "Maybe that's exactly why they aren't here, Garrus. Perhaps the geth don't want to simply barge onto the station and make everyone think there's another invasion. They need to get used to the geth before they can welcome them. And where better to do that then helping out on the battlefield?"

The turian nodded, "That makes sense. No doubt Gerrel will have a word with the Council, though. After all, the quarians are part of this fight now too. As members of the UGC, they'll have access to the same rights as any other species to seek refuge on the Citadel. Its either that or Rannoch, and I don't think they want to draw unwanted attention to their own homeworld, especially if the Reapers see how vulnerable they are."

They stopped at the stairs leading up to the main speaker's platform; the exact same spot where he became a Spectre so many years ago, and the place where they confronted and killed Saren.  _Sometimes, I still hear his voice in my head...those words of his, over and over..._

He turned and leaned his back against a wall, crossing his arms, "The Council knows past grudges won't stand in this war. If humanity can put aside its hatred of the batarians to work together, then the Council will just have to learn to work with the quarians and the geth. Its as simple as that."

Liara, hands on her hips, raised an eyebrow at him, "The Council hasn't had a reason to be reasonable in the past when it comes to the Reapers."

"Well, they can't deny the gun exists anymore," Marcus stated, "They know that. Its aimed right at them, and they either defend themselves or get shot. Besides, Sparatus will see the military advantage of having a massive force such as this. Getting the krogan as ground troops was a major win for us, but now we've got the ships to actually make it mean something. Geth cruisers could deploy entire krogan battalions onto a battlefield, sabotage a conversion facility and then duck back out. Not to mention the firepower brought to the table will at least give us a one up. The UGC is sick of us getting our asses kicked; its about time we did some of the ass kicking."

"And with Rannoch back in our hands, we'll fight damn hard to protect what we have," Tali added, conviction in her words, "Those Reaper bastards will not take it from us. We won't allow it, and the geth won't allow it. We'll get the Crucible finished, Mark."

He smiled at his wife, thankful she was here for the long run and fully committed to their task, "I never had a doubt. We've got a real chance at winning this, guys."  _I can almost taste victory...hell, if Hackett rung up right now to tell me it was ready, I'd tell him to fire away...shit, we don't know what it does, but when you've got a superpower capable of destroying a race of seemingly never-ending sentient starships, you take what you can get with a pinch of salt._

"Captain Shepard, pleasure to meet you," a female voice spoke from where they had come, "I don't believe we've had the chance to meet in person."

Garrus and Tali dispersed to allow her through, and Marcus immediately noted she was human, the her blonde hair, blue eyes and elderly complexion all features you wouldn't see in any other species. She looked to be in her seventies, her hair tied up in a ponytail. She buttoned up her suit, Marcus noting how old-fashioned she looked; the suit looked like something out of the 20th century on Earth, and she carried herself with a sort of balanced fluidity only a true lady could manage.

She reached out a hand, a slight smile on her face. Marcus shook her hand, "I don't believe we have, miss. May I ask your name?"

The woman chuckled, tapping the side of her head and rolling her eyes with an exaggerated flick of her head, "Of course, how silly of me. I go by the name of June Horvath. I am the new ambassador for the human embassy after Mister Osoba became our Councilor. A damn fine man, if I may say so." It was now that Marcus identified her thick Georgian accent sliding through her voice, the fine rhythm of it always seeming to make him smile.  _I love the Southern accent._

He nodded, smirking as they dropped their hands to their sides, "Of course, my mistake. I should have been aware that there would be a replacement ambassador. I've been busy, as you probably know."

Ambassador June Horvath smiled warmly, nodding, "All too well, captain. You do our species a great service with your actions. You've shown the galaxy what we can do, and I have no doubt in my mind you are doing everything in your power to win this war, just as we are. Mister Osoba has proved to be just as motivated as Udina, but without the ties with Cerberus to go with it. You'll find Councilor Osoba hates Cerberus as much as you do."

"Udina was a coward, in the end," Marcus declared, his indifference showing his lack of sadness towards the previous human councilor's demise, "He chose the easy way out. I can respect what he did it for...but when you sign a pact with the devil, only bad things can come from it. It's just a good thing we got here in time to stop him."

June creased her lips in agreement, licking them slightly to wet them as they seemed to have dried slightly, "I had no love for the man. He was as slimy as politicians come, but I know his heart belonged to the human race. It's shame a man like that had to find himself in bed with people like the Illusive Man, but war does make us turn to desperate actions. It's a shame Udina chose the wrong action. Better for us he did not succeed."

"Touche," he replied, before standing up, "But I've been neglecting my comrades," he turned to Liara, smiling as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "This is Liara T'Soni."

June held out her hand to shake the asari's, and Liara took it eagerly and with grace, an equally warm smile on her dark purple lips, "Ambassador Horvath, a pleasure to meet you. I had heard about you through several channels, but I never got a change to see you in person."

He then turned to Garrus, slapping the turian on the back with a grin, "This is Garrus Vakarian, formerly a military advisor to the turian Primarch and one of the best snipers in the galaxy," after June shook his hand, he finally turned to Tali, "And this is Tali'Shepard, my wife and just recently a former admiral of the Migrant Fleet."

June looked impressed, reaching out to shake Tali's hand gently, "I had heard you had married Marcus Shepard, but I never believed the rumours. Some said you had married your asari friend, while others said you were...well...of the different orientation."

Tali laughed at that, "No, he's definitely not of...that description."

"No offense to them or anything, but..." Marcus awkwardly replied, scratching the back of his head, "I don't swing in that direction."

June laughed, holding her chest almost as if laughing was a pain for her, "I'm sure many gay males around the galaxy will be sorely disappointed, but I am nonetheless happy for you both. Only fitting the champion of humanity have a wife that isn't human. Just shows Cerberus where they can stick it."

He laughed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Indeed."

June looked up and over his head, as if her attention was brought to something, and she suddenly reached into one of her inner suit pockets, pulling out an old, silver pocket watch and flipping it open to look at the time. Nodding, she put it away, looking back up as she straightened out her jacket, "The Council is now ready to see you. I wouldn't keep them waiting," she nodded to all four of them, moving to walk away, "As for me, I must take my leave. I was on my way to a meeting with the volus, elcor, hanar and drell ambassadors down the hall. Until next time," without any further word, she simply twisted on the spot and left, moving away with a steady fast walk, her posture all business and class.

Tali frowned, "What an odd arrangement she had; I've never seen humans dressed up like that. And what was that weird device she had?"

"A pocket watch. An old human device from the 20th century that we used to tell the time," he turned to the three of them and motioned up the stairs, "But we can talk more about that later. Come on." He moved up the stairs, and the three of them followed.

Garrus was insistent though, "I still can't figure out why the Council would want to see me and Tali for specifically. Are we being transferred?"

"What? Hell no. Nothing that dramatic," he replied, the group arriving at the bridge-like platform that extended over the glass-ceiling protecting the garden below. Widow's glare shone brightly down on them, but there was no mistaking the four forms of a human, turian, asari and a salarian standing at their respective pedestals just ahead of them, "But you'll soon find out, Garrus."

They eventually reached the end of the bridge, Marcus standing at the front with his hands clasped behind his back. Behind him was Tali, on his left, and Garrus on his right, equally straightened, while Liara stood behind the both of them, likely barely keeping her excitement to herself.

A few seconds passed before one of the councilors spoke. Osoba was the first to speak from his pedestal on the Council's far right, his hands at his side as he looked down on them with a straight face, "Captain Shepard. I believe you are aware this Council has come to a decision on your proposal?"

Marcus could only imagine the looks of confusion on Tali and Garrus' faces, but he reigned in his own amusement and kept a straight face as he replied, his voice echoing through the chamber, "I am, Councilor."

Valern crossed his arms, "You are sure of this decision? We are aware of your personal views, but you must be absolutely sure they are ready."

He nodded, "There is nobody who is more ready and more deserving, Councilor."

Tevos smiled, turning to her turian compatriot. Sparatus' arms were crossed, but he nodded, showing no objection; the turian's opinion on Marcus had done a complete 360 since the Reaper War began, going from his harshest critic to one of his most adamant supporters on the Council. The change was nice, especially considering it showed that Sparatus wasn't entirely stubborn, and that he could admit a mistake when one was made. Tevos, having seen Sparatus' approval, turned to Marcus. Marcus gave one final nod of approval, and took a step back, grinning. Garrus and Tali watched him, Tali's visor barely covering up her expression. He simply looked ahead, a smile growing, refusing to meet either of their looks.

"Then it is decided," Tevos spoke, her voice ringing through the chambers as those on the upper level balconies gathered around to watch, "Garrus Vakarian. Tali'Shepard. Step forward."

To their credit, they did not hesitate. Both of them stepped forward, side by side, looking up at the Council with calm, likely featureless, expressions.

Sparatus was next to speak, "Kneel."

This time, Garrus and Tali shared a brief glance before they did as they were asked, placing one knee on the ground while supporting their body on the other. It was an odd sight for Marcus, especially given their backward facing legs, but he paid no mind to it. He looked behind himself at Liara, who met his gaze with a warm, pleasant smirk. He smiled back, nodding as he turned back to watch the show.

Osoba was next to speak, hands clasping behind his back, "By your actions on the field, but deeds and not your words, you have been evaluated. Strong were your convictions, resonating were your deeds, and your decisions were for a greater good, and not committed in spite of peace or in love of tyranny. You ennoble all of us, and with those, your skills in combat and your pure intent to protect and preserve galactic peace, you have been evaluated. Marcus Shepard, step forward, and say the oath."

Marcus did as ordered, straightening quickly to make himself look professional. He then spoke, his voice booming and loud, so that all could hear, "I, Marcus Shepard, a member of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch of the Citadel, Sword of the Council, Shield of Galactic Stability, have evaluated these two combatants and deemed them worthy to join our ranks. I ask that they may say the vows that I once spoke, that they may become Spectres, and that may help protect galactic peace as I have. In my name, and all the deeds I have committed and righted, ask the Council to look upon these two warriors and see them for what they are: Spectres."

There. He had said it.

Osoba nodded, "Thank you, Spectre. Your words have been heeded, and we have decided in favor. If anything, the Council should have done this a long time ago."

Marcus nodded in agreement and stepped back, looking down to see no change in Garrus and Tali's movement; they looked at the ground, likely dumbfounded by what had just happened. He grinned, inwardly fist pumping.  _Now we can be the Spectre Trio. Nah...that sounds stupid. Tetrarch of Spectres? Too formal. Nah, just stick with Dextro Squad. Sounds better._

When Tevos spoke, Marcus suddenly felt himself remembering his own Spectre induction, the words being the same she had said to him that very day, "It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch of the Citadel."

After around a minute and a half, the Council finished their induction speech, Tevos spoke again, "You may now rise as Spectres. Tali'Shepard, you are now the first quarian spectre to hold such a title in three hundred years. This is a great accomplishment."

The two of them rose silently, and nodded to the Council, with Tali speaking loudly but confidently, "We are honoured, councilors. We will not waste the power you've given us."

Sparatus nodded, "We have no doubt you won't."

"This meeting is now adjourned," Tevos declared, "Go forth, spectres. Continue your defense of the galaxy and defeat the Reapers. We are all counting on you."

Garrus and Tali thanked her in unison, and began to walk away as the four councilors quietly made their exit. Tali and Garrus approached Marcus and Liara, both of whom were smiling.

"A little heads up would have sufficed," Garrus sighed, rubbing his head, "I wasn't...expecting that."

"I still can't get over it," Tali exclaimed, looking at Marcus, "I'm a Spectre. The first quarian to hold the title for over three centuries. Why?" Her question was aimed at Marcus, and he understood what she was asking.

He sighed, grabbing them both by the shoulders, "You guys have earned it a thousand times over. Out of this group, Kaidan has been with me longer than you guys have, and he's already a spectre. You've never once questioned my loyalty, and you dropped everything to help me fight the Collectors even when it seemed I was working with Cerberus. You put all that aside not just out of loyalty to me, but out of a shared understanding that a greater threat than any other was out there and needed to be stopped. You put your lives on the line. All of those values: loyalty, courage, strength...all values of a spectre. This was a long time coming, guys," he turned to Garrus, grin peeling even wider across his face, "As for you, Garrus...I remember that promise you made me before I died on the SR-1. You said you'd leave C-Sec and join the spectres. The Council turned you down. I made sure they wouldn't this time."

The turian nodded, a click of his mandibles, "Thank you, Marcus. I appreciate it. Although..." he turned to Tali, a michevious glint in his eyes before he turned back to Marcus again, "This, once again, means we are now on a equal level with you. Being a spectre does supercede your original military rank..."

"...and yet you'll continue to follow my orders regardless, right?" Marcus asked, already knowing the answer. Seeing the turian nod he hugged the both of them tightly, Tali's and Garrus' arms wrapping around him tightly as they embraced. The turian cleared his throat and they pulled away, seeing him motion to Liara, "What about Liara and Wrex? They were on the SR-1 too."

Liara was quick to speak for herself, hands folded neatly in her lap, "I...actually was offered a place as a spectre, but I turned it down."

"Why?" Tali asked.

Liara smiled, "Tali, I'm the Shadow Broker. I own more assets than there are spectres. I don't really think being a spectre would do much for me other than give my power more prominence."

"Well, that does make sense," Tali replied, nodding in acknowledgement.

Marcus finished the answer, "As for Wrex, he's a krogan chieftain who governs the entire krogan species. And if that's not enough, I don't think he particularly cares about being a spectre."

"Congratulations to both of you, though," Liara spoke again, moving into hug Tali, "I really can't think of anyone else who I'd want being the first quarian spectre," she turned to Garrus and hugged him as well, the turian hugging her back, "And you were practically a spectre already, Garrus. Constantly breaking the law to protect those under it..."

"Omega did teach me a lot," the turian admitted.

Suddenly, Marcus had an epiphany. "Hey, you know what?" the three of them turned to him, anticipating what he was going to say, "I know what we can do now. Let's go to Purgatory and have some drinks. Celebrate your new rank. I'll see if I can get Kaidan to join us too."

"Nice and simple. Just a good old drink," Garrus observed, nodding, "Let's go."

"Right with you," Tali agreed.

"Shopping later, then?" their asari friend pointed out.

Three groans were her response, and she simply giggled as the four of them descended the steps and made headway back towards the elevator, Marcus being ready to celebrate his wife becoming a spectre, and his best friend finally getting the position he wanted.

**{Loading...}**

_July 31, 2186_

_1913 hours._

_Courtyard, Presidium Commons, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Moses._

Tali was being too inundated with titles. First she was a captain, then she became a Chief Admiral, then she was a chief engineer, now she's a Spectre, and now Fleet Admiral Gerrel had seen fit to temporarily appoint her as the quarian ambassador for the provisional quarian embassy on the Citadel.

_Great. Just what I wanted. More politics._

What was supposed to be her enjoying a celebratory drink with her friends after becoming a Spectre was ruined by Gerrel asking her to play ambassador. Sure, it wasn't going to be for very long, as their actual ambassador, who was apparently, to her immense surprise, Veetor'Nara, was caught up with getting registration from the Citadel authorities. So here she was.

_It may have been his long-life dream to become an ambassador, but I never would have thought Veetor would qualify to become one, especially not with his agoraphobia. Guess his reconditioning with a certain doctor, now girlfriend, has changed him for the better. Good on him._

She still wasn't happy having to stand in for him, though.

It was near nighttime on the Presidium. The artificial, simulated sunlight was beginning to creep away beneath the ring, bringing the transition between day and night to a close. The change from light to dark did not sway the usual traffic though; skycars continued to shoot by, the booms of their engines assaulting her ears so much that she became so used to it as to shut it out. The crowds were not deterred, the usual bustle of people summoned to watch the sunset and to mingle in the nightly crowds. Lights lit up across the Presidium, prepared to fight back the darkness and provide light to the population. Tali simply sat there in the Presidium, right beside a large holographic wall panel on her right that displayed an interactive map of the entire Presidium Commons, the interface a nice cobalt blue.

There were pot plants flanking the interface. Tali sat on the right side of the courtyard, where a trio of benches lay, Tali sitting on one of them, her legs crossed and hands in her lap as her foot tapped idly. The floor was white and polished, the left side of the courtyard was cut off by a long, metal reinforced glass railing. Far off to her own left was the Apollo's Cafe, with a pair of stairs leading up while another pair led down. The cafe, normally populated with several locals, was now scarcely populated, with most of them on the cafe's balcony, and yet still shooting Tali looks of worry and concern inbetween bouts of sipping coffee or tea, or eating whatever food they had ordered. She could see three asari, a human and a group of turians. Even the cashier was giving her looks of worry, the human wiping the bench while pretending to not be looking at her.

But considering the company she kept, it was not entirely unjustified.

Moses was an imposing sight, even now that he was an ally. Standing behind and on her left, Moses towered over even the tallest krogan, clad in dark red armor chasis, the usual circuits protruding from its form. Its equally armoured head moved ever so slightly, scanning the area for any potential hostile threats to her person. Its triangularly oriented, small tri-optics, glowed a bright red. Its formidable pulse cannon was collapsed on its back, the rest of its lethal arsenal was hidden away within its body, ready for battlefield deployment when necessary; no doubt its strong kinetic barriers were fully active, however, able to deflect even the most powerful of explosions in one impact.

As it stood however, a massive geth prime tended to both attract attention and scare it away. Apollo's Cafe had never been so empty, and the only reason it even had anyone in it now was because they were either drawn by curiosity or were C-Sec officers having a drink or meal inbetween shifts. Still, Tali was content just feeling safe; despite her initial objections, having Moses as a bodyguard had proven to be extremely useful. The geth prime had heard of her ambassadorial appointment from one of Aristotle's underlings, and he had immediately left the  _Normandy_ to accompany Tali in her meeting. Tali just hoped this was the only time she had to perform ambassador duties.

_I have done my part for my people in the official capacity._

Her task was to meet and talk with a turian diplomat representing the Turian Hierarchy. In quite unusual fashion, it had been the Hierarchy, specifically Primarch Victus, who had requested a meeting with a quarian ambassador to discuss the possibility of Coalition assistance to turian forces across the galaxy, mainly in the Palaven theater. Rare was it that any Council species would ever ask a people like the quarians for assistance. And, once again, war brought rare circumstances to light.

Here she waited. Gerrel had arranged for her to meet him in the Presidium Commons' courtyard, where they would discuss the need for a Coalition-Hierarchy military alliance, and the extent to how much assistance was required, as well as viable deployment sites. Militarily, the turians were severely lacking a major naval presence: the Palaven campaign had put a large dent in the turian navy, forcing them to withdraw, giving the Reapers naval and air superiority. The addition of the krogan had significantly evened the playing field on the ground, but it hadn't meant much when the Reapers could still deploy troops with impunity. Now, there was only one faction in the entire galaxy with a fleet so massive as to give the Reapers pause...

In other words, Tali would essentially having a turian bending over backwards to make sure she got what she wanted, and it saddened her. Any other quarian would dream of making a turian, especially a political official, essentially kneel before them, especially considering the Hierarchy had been the harshest towards the quarians since the Exodus.

_But I can't afford to be that petty. Today is not about petty greviances. Today is not about getting revenge. Today is about offering a fellow ally aid. My people have reclaimed their homeworld, but the turians are struggling to keep theirs. Every quarian understands that plight, and I will provide whatever aid I can._

A few moments later, and the diplomat arrived, walking down the upper steps into the courtyard, immediately seeing her as he moved towards her. He stopped upon noticing Moses, his eyes trailing up the geth's form. He wore a basic, light yellow suit, with a small, raised collar. His eyes were blue, with a matte of white facepaint, demonstrating that he was not born on a turian colony or Palaven. They were male, but they moved with a swagger that suggested they had been a police officer, possibly C-Sec. The name badge on his right breast read 'Armenis Gyuras'.

She frowned at that, wrinkling her nose in confusion. For some reason, that name struck something in her. Almost as if she remembered it from somewhere.

"Moses is harmless," she spoke up, noting that his stare did not break to address her, but he likely heard her, "Unless you threaten me, that gun on his back will remain there. I doubt we'll have a problem, however?"

Gyuras finally tore his look away, patting his suit randomly as he walked towards Tali. He stopped, and she gestured at the seat on her left non-chalantly. Gyuras nodded and sat down, shifting in his seat to get a comfortable position. Noting he was sat down, she looked up, smiling, "Its okay, Moses. I can look after myself from here. Besides, I do believe you are making my fellow ambassador concerned...understandably."

Moses nodded, its just as intimidating voice booming loudly and almost making Gyuras jump, "Understood. I will be nearby." With that, the geth prime stalked off, its huge strides quickly bringing it to the end of the courtyard, where it stopped and continued to stand in silent vigil. With Gyuras no longer having to look over his shoulder, they could now get the discussion underway.

She turned back to Gyuras, uncrossing her legs as she turned her full attention to the turian, "Ambassador Gyuras," she held out her hand to shake, "Ambassador Tali'Shepard." Gyuras eyed the hand for a few seconds before nodding and taking the hand, shaking it quickly before pulling his hand back and looking away. Tali's eyebrow raised, noting just how shaky the man seemed, almost like he was nervous.  _First time ambassador? He's not from the turian embassy, that's for sure._

Gyuras eyed his hands uneasily, speaking with a low mumble, "Let's just get this over with. You know what I'm here for and what my people need."

Once again, she felt as if she knew this man. Something about him triggered something in her mind, tugging at memories she couldn't quite pinpoint. His voice sounded familiar, and yet his mannerisms didn't match what she remembered.  _It's a paradox of conflicting memories. Keelah, where do I recognize him from?_

Tali nodded, licking her lips as she assumed a more neutral posture, "Yes, I do. My people are new to this war, but we're willing to help out however we can. From what I understand, you need more than just supplies and troops. We have the ships, and we're willing to discuss where they are sent and for what purpose."

Gyuras sat up straighter, clearing his throat, "Primarch Victus informed me so. At the moment, your assistance is dearly required in the Apien Crest. The Palaven campaign does not bode well for our forces, and with our navy having left our troops behind, we're in sore need of naval support. The Reapers have run that monopoly into the ground."

Tali shifted slightly, tapping her fingers idly on her lap, "The Reapers have certainly enjoyed superiority in that sector long enough. That's why I'm here. Now, where are they needed most and for what?"

"Orbital support, mostly," Gyuras declared, rubbing his head with a single talon, "The krogan are plowing through the Reaper's legions, but without orbital support, the Reapers have always checked our progress simply by dropping a destroyer to thin our lines. We need ships to keep them at bay. Cruisers should be enough to draw their fire while the krogan supplement our lines and allow us to punch through. Most of Cipritine has been converted into twenty-one sectors with conversion facilities in each one. The plan is to clear the two in the east of the city so that the main conversion facility in the city center can be reached. From there, UGC command will launch Operation: Guardian. But without the two in the east neutralized, we'll have no hope of reaching the city center; and to do that, we'll need COS."

Tali shrugged, "If its cruisers you need, I'm sure we can provide. We cannot guarantee complete immunity from Reaper forces, but we can at least buy you some time. Do you need additional troops? The geth are very good at crowd control, and our engineers could make destroying the conversion facilities much easier," she frowned, cocking her head at Gyuras, "What is Operation Guardian?"

Gyuras shrugged, shaking his head, "It's classified. All I know is that Corinthus devised it. As for the support...I'm sure the ArchGeneral would much appreciate the surplus of troops."

Shifting, she nodded, straightening her suit, "Very well, then. I will relay your suggestions to Fleet Admiral Han'Gerrel and Fleet Admiral Themistocles and allow them to decide how to best allocate their ships. Is there anything else the Hierarchy requires of us?"

Gyuras gave a slow nod, as if unsure he should ask, "We also...well, our troops need more supplies. The Reapers' scorched Earth policy has damaged much of Palaven's ecosystem, and trying to get rations onto the planet via civilian transport is impossible. However, we have heard the geth have stealth systems, and the quarians are one of the few dextro races in the galaxy..."

"A good point," she responded, understanding his point, "Not much point in providing support if the troops aren't well fed. We'll see what rations we can put aside for the turians. The other races can gather rations for the krogan. In the mean time, Gerrel and Themistocles will see what ships we can spare. Ancestors know we have more than enough to go around."

Gyuras' mandibles clicked slightly as he looked at her, and he nodded once more, turning away awkwardly, as if ashamed to look at her, "Right...thank you. The campaign to keep our homeworld from falling has been gruesome. Your aid is...a welcome boon."

_Gyuras...I still can't place where I recognize you..._

"If that is all..." Gyuras suddenly blurted, moving to stand up, "I must be going. Primarch Victus must be made aware of the details of this meeting so we can make preparations. The Reapers have the Trebia system locked tight, and your forces will need to know the appropriate entrance vectors."

Tali nodded, "Then I wish you fair well. Ancestors watch over the men and women of the Hierarchy's armed forces, and may your spirits grant them victory in these dark times."

Gyuras stopped for a moment, turning back to her with a cock of his own head, "I would have thought you would be gloating more. Your people have every reason to hate us."

She shrugged, looking at the palm of her empty hand, "We sure do. But you know what? Perhaps we're just willing to look over past prejudices to win this damn war."

There was a ghost of a smile on Gyuras' face, the turian shaking his head with an exhale of frustration, "A pity we need a war to bring such ideologies. A concept I've learnt too late."

She frowned at him, standing up with him as she crossed her arms, "What do you mean?"

Again. That look of shame, the subtle head turning away. After a moment, he looked up, sighing, "I...used to be a C-Sec officer."

_Well...explains why he walks like a policeman..._

"I was a Lieutenant in the Enforcement division of the Shalta Ward, Third Precinct," he continued, mandibles clicking ever so slightly. He finally looked up, looking her directly in the eyes, "My parents fed me a lot of anti-quarian propaganda; I grew to hate your species. We believed your people to be cowards...which is ironic now that I think about it, given that my parents fled Hierarchy space simply to escape mandatory military service. Anyway," he exhaled heavily, "There was this freighter that came in. The MSV  _Into the Blue_ , it was called. That's about all I remember, though. Can't even remember who the fuck the captain was."

Her eyes widened.  _Wait..._

"Basically, the captain found two quarians in his ship's cargo hold. A male and a female. The girl looked fairly young, while the male looked muscular enough to be a marine," he described, Tali coming to the realization of just who he was talking about, but allowed him to continue regardless, "We took them back to the station, and...well, had a talk, for lack of a better term. More like a goddamn witch hunt," he growled, "I was an idiot. A stupid, racist bigot. By the end, I basically laughed them out the door, and didn't care twice when I heard they were shot at. Hell, I even hoped they were dead," he nodded, as if acknowledging his own memories as truth, "Well, guess the spirits saw fit enough to punish me. I was injured when the geth attacked the Citadel, and I eventually joined the Marine Corps. And so...here I am."

_Keelah...of all the people..._

She could barely muster a response, her brain completely scrambled by the information she had just received. The same man...the very same man who had verbally abused her and Keenah only three years ago. The one who had called her a suit-rat and treated her like the lowest form of trash...the very same arrogant bosh'tet. It seemed impossible that same man could be the quivering, shame-ridden mess that stood before her right now.

Finally, a response. She gulped, wetting her mouth as she spoke again, her arms uncrossing, "I...do you know what happened to those quarians?"  _He doesn't seem to recognize me. Perhaps he's having just as much trouble remembering me as I had him?_

He shook his head, "I...don't even remember their names. I didn't think them worth remembering at the time. As for what happened to them...the DNA of one of them was found in an incinerator...near here, actually. It was the male...his DNA was found with that of a turian mercenary by the name of Jacobus. How they ended up there...I guess its stored in some case file somewhere in C-Sec HQ. The female...I have no idea what happened to her. She just disappeared. Maybe she's dead. Maybe she's back on the Migrant Fleet. Whatever her fate..." he trailed off, his sentence unintentionally ending there.

She couldn't believe it. This really was the same C-Sec lieutenant who had left her running and afraid on the Citadel. Who had turned away her information incriminating Saren. She finally had him right there. Back then, she had been innocent; naive, vulnerable, close to passive...now? She had seen an entire galaxy. Experienced more than any other organic being. She was a fierce warrior, a capable leader, and now a Spectre...

...no longer did the idea of someone like a C-Sec lieutenant hold authority over her. All the cards were in her hands.

_The tables have turned._

She could reveal who she was. She could tell him she was the helpless quarian pilgrim he abused. That she was indeed alive, and that her life had turned out pretty well despite his hatred and prejudice. She could rub it in, make him feel even more awful for what he did to her. That while he was brimming with hate for her people, she was out saving them all. That, despite him, she was a much better person than he was.

But if she did...was she really better than him? If she truly was, wouldn't she put aside her differences?

In the end, she couldn't bring herself to bring it up. To mention her name. To shove it in his face and make him squirm. To make him eat it all. The temptation was immense...but to actually do it? Was it really worth it? To be that petty? That trivial? Weren't there bigger issues to address? Racism seemed a fairly small topic to address in the middle of a major war against a race of genocidal machines. If anything, now was the time to put differences aside. Lay the blanket on these issues and lock them away. Erase racial barriers to combat a unilateral threat.

So she wouldn't. She wouldn't reveal herself to him. She would just remain a quarian ambassador he had never met before. She would be the bigger person. She would ignore all prejudices. She wasn't going to be that trivial.

Instead, when she spoke, she spoke calmly, and neutrally, "Well...I'm sure you'll try your best to make amends. But if I were you, I'd remember the quarians you wronged. Remember them well. And next time...try better.  _Be_ better."

Gyuras nodded, straightening out his own suit as he stood straighter, "I shall take that into consideration, ambassador."

She sighed, holding out a hand once more to shake his hand, "However brief, this meeting was a necessary step in the right direction to fixing the relationship between our peoples. I pray it creates productive results, and that the lesson learnt from it is not lost in translation, ambassador."

Gyuras took the offered the hand, shaking it firmly and with more confidence, his eyes still laced with shame, "As do I. But I should probably mention I'm not actually an ambassador. Remember I mentioned joined the marines? I'm a requisitions officer," he snapped a salute, a slight smile on his face, "Chief Warrant Officer Armenis Gyuras."

She smiled back, returning the salute, "Well...you're dismissed, Warrant Officer. Let Victus know his men are in good hands."

Gyuras nodded, retracting his salute, "If he doesn't know already, he's a moron, ma'am." With that, Gyuras turned and left, walking up the stairs. As he passed Moses, the massive geth prime turned to watch him walk away, before twisting on the spot and approaching Tali, who continued to stand still, watching Gyuras walk away.

She finally looked away, her eyes moving to the ground as she thought about what she had done.  _I've wanted to get back at that asshole for so long...and I let the opportunity slip through my fingers..._

All Gyuras did however was remind her of a place she should visit.

Moses' voice shattered her thoughts, "Creator Tali'Shepard, my auditory emulators allowed me to listen to your conversation. We understand your meeting ended well. However, you do not seem to fit the definition of what an organic would see as 'okay'."

She shook her head, and began to walk away. "It's okay, Moses. I just...there's somewhere I need to go. It's not far. You may accompany me if you wish."

"You do not wish to join Shepard-Commander and your compatriots at the establishment known as Purgatory?" Moses asked, headflaps shifting in confusion.

She kept moving for the stairs, reaching them as she answered and quickly ascending them, "I will. I just...Gyuras reminded me of my past. A past I need to visit one last time."

Moses did not reply, simply moving forward as it caught up to her in a few strides, flanking her as it followed her to her destination. She paid no mind to his motion as she moved through the Presidium Commons, finally reaching the C-Sec outpost on the otherside of the courtyard. Numerous C-Sec officers stood on guard around the installation, a total of six at the forward entrance. Two officers inside, a human female with cropped ginger hair and a turian female were quite audibly shouting at each other from inside, both of them in each other's face, Tali imagining the spittle flying from the human's mouth as his face got red with anger. What they were arguing about was beyond her. It ultimately didn't matter.

There was no one standing there, so she crouched. Just outside the outpost and to the left, right in the middle of the intersection between the stairs and the outpost proper. The very same spot where it happened. The same place that changed her life forever.

The same place where Jacobus took the shot at her.

One of her three fingered hands touched the ground, the cold surface being felt even through her gloves. It was hard to believe that red blood had once stained this very surface on his very spot; her blood, Keenah's and the unfortunate C-Sec trooper who Gyuras had sent to scare them off the Citadel. She even remembered the events of that day vividly; the screaming as the gunshots pierced the air, the boom echoing throughout the Presidium. The explosion of pain as the polonium round struck her shoulder. Keenah being shot twice. The C-Sec trooper's head exploding like a ripe melon as a fourth round impacted her cheek, reducing her head to putty.

She lay a palm flat on the ground, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes.  _Three years ago. Only three. My life changed forever, all because of a single bullet..._

_Keenah._

Her eyes opened, eyes beginning to water as she remembered. He gave his life to protect her. To kill Jacobus. She remembered the smell of his flesh as he was atomized...he and Jacobus both. She remembered having to make the decision to incinerate Keenah, for the price of killing their assailant. If only he got to see her now...

_Keenah should have met Kal. They'd have been good friends._

A strong hand landed on her shoulder; cold and metallic. She recognized it immediately, sniffing as she lifted up her hand, "I'm okay, Moses. I'm just remembering the past. The people I've lost. I think its necessary to remember the cost of what put me where I am now. Gives me strength."

She stood up, noticing that a few nearby pedestrians were looking her as they walked past. She understood she must have looked pretty weird just crouched and feeling the ground. That, or they could just be concerned about the giant geth prime in their midst. Either way, she didn't care. She did what she wanted to do. And now it was time to move on.

"I almost reminded Gyuras who I was," she blurted out loud, turning to her geth companion, "Rubbed his face in it. Made him revel in it. But then I remembered what we're out here fighting for. This war is about more than petty grudges. If I can see that, maybe others can. The past doesn't define our future. It's about time I realized that," she smiled, tapping Moses' metal torso with a ping, "Just look at what we accomplished by doing just that."

Moses said nothing, simply nodding. With a sigh, she looked away and out across the Presidium, watching the sparkling water of the lake below and in the distance; the night time lights made it a truly beautiful sight.

It really was.

**{Loading...}**

_July 31, 2186._

_1937 hours._

_Cinema 4, Constellation Cinemas, Tayseri Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI._

What the actual  _hell_ was he doing? He had no bloody clue.

When Joker thought of shore leave, his thoughts were the exact same as they were when on duty: the  _Normandy_. That ship was his life at this point. He had piloted both versions of the  _Normandy_ , seeing it through the hairest and most disastrous of situations. He had fired the final shot that destroyed Sovereign. He had lived through the destruction of the SR-1. He had saved the SR-2 when it was boarded by the Collectors and piloted the ship in what should have been a suicide mission. The  _Normandy_ was like his girlfriend, and he was the clingy boyfriend.

Sure, he left from time to time to hang out with the crew, but those moments were very few. Only now...now he had actually been convinced to leave the ship for once, by EDI of all people. To his surprise, EDI had approached him, asking if he wanted to go to the cinemas to see a film, saying she had researched human courtship behaviour and wished to 'date' him. Joker had asked for some time to think about it, saying he'd get back to her on the topic; a few hours later, and he had decided 'fuck it'.

_You only live for so long in a war until something finally manages to kill you. Might as well use the time I've bought with my insane luck._

And so here he was...having a non-official date with what amounted to the  _Normandy_ 's brain. What class.

He hadn't really bothered to change from his usual attire; the matte gray and black uniform of a flight lieutenant, with his custom navy blue and black cap with 'SSV Normandy' in small gold font at the top, and 'SR-2' in larger golden font just below it. He loved his cap, refusing to remove it, and given that he hadn't really worn anything but the uniform for many years, he didn't see much of a reason to take it off. So off he went, EDI in tow as his 'mobility assistance mech' (a moniker he had gotten used to using with some amusement), limping off to one of the best cinemas on the Citadel: Constellation.

Thanks to the miracles and evolution of technology, as well as some physical therapy he had gained access to in the two years following Shepard's first death, Joker had managed to finally gain the ability to walk semi-normally. Before the fiasco with Saren, Joker had required a wheelchair to get anywhere, as his bones were so brittle that even the slightest pressure placed on them would have caused them to break. Technology at the time was unable to help this, but following the war, Joker, already heralded as one of the many heroes of the Citadel, was given access to state-of-the-art medical treatment. He wasn't cured of Vrolik's, given that there was no vaccine. However, nanobots were developed that could strenghten his bones enough to allow him to move without a wheelchair; however, he would have a very uncomfortable limp; something of which he was not quick to complain about. He was just happy to be blessed with movement. If he had to limp everywhere like a bloated penguin, then that was a small price to pay.

EDI also helped, something of which he appreciated. She accompanied him everywhere he went, including his trips to the Citadel when the  _Normandy_ was docked during its visits. The thought of it put a smile on his face, realizing that a piece of the  _Normandy_ was essentially accompanying him wherever he went, no matter where it was.

The part he was unsure about however was his feelings towards EDI. Their first meeting had been anything but friendly; he had gone out of his way to demonize the AI, right down to outwardly terrorizing her by performing acts such as grease on her cockpit cameras (which he still finds hilarious to this day) and temporarily muting her. However, a slowly developing friendship grew between them, which was only solidified when EDI helped him save the  _Normandy_ from the Collectors. Ever since then, EDI had developed immensely a person, even adopting many of Joker's mannerisms, most prominent of which was his humour. Like it or hate it, hit or miss, whenever EDI made a joke, no matter how bad or how good, Joker would always inwardly smile because it reminded him of himself.

He would never admit that to anyone, though. Especially not Shepard.

_I have the damn softie where I want him: a constant source of jokes at his expense, ranging from bites at his love life to his tendency to try and kill himself on a daily basis without ever aiming a gun at himself or tying a noose. If I thought I actually_ _**liked** _ _EDI...well..._

And it was true. He did sorta like EDI. While she could be incredibly dense, she was fun to be around, and it was good to have a constant source of company in the  _Normandy_ 's cockpit, where it got pretty lonely at times. Sure, Garrus or the odd crew member would come up and talk with him occassionally, but EDI was always there; and he loved that. However, he had never...well, thought of it as anything but friendship...

...until after Mars.

From his soft, comfy seat in the cinema's sixth row, he turned to face EDI, who looked to be blankly looking at the massive, blank screen before them, seemingly analyzing its contents. She had since learnt how to deactivate the ugly orange holographic screen that had seemed to always be present around her eyes, which, at this very moment, was currently switched off. When they had found EDI's new body, it hadn't always been hers; Eva, a Cerberus AI, had been the previous owner of it, and it had taken some 'handling' for EDI to permanently kill her before taking over her body and using it as a hub of residence. Ever since then, EDI had all of Joker's attention; not only that, but that of the whole crew. Not only did the AI now have a body, but it was a...revealing one.

_I bet the Illusive Man jerked off a lot to this. Like...seriously? Who the fuck designs an infiltration robot with curves like that? And look at those damn tits! Jesus H. Christ...it's like the designers thought 'female' and immediately thought of the most sexiest woman in existence._

EDI's body left nothing to the imagination. Her lips, whilst metallic, were large and supple. Her breasts were, for lack of a better description, massive. They were disproportionate to her hips, which could even rival Tali's. Even her ass was large, capable of putting Miranda to shame. Everything about EDI's frame was perfect, and given she was designed for infiltration and to be as 'close to the real thing' as possible, he had no doubt she had a...well, a package down there.

He noticed his face was heating up, but he couldn't look away, and he simply sunk his head back into the soft cushion of the chair, appreciating her. EDI had also put in a request to have the original skin and hair added back; all of which had been burnt off when Eva's shuttle crashed on Mars. Now, EDI had all of that back, making her look like just any other normal human; except he knew she wasn't. Her look was nothing like Eva's; she had gone with long, black hair, with fair skin to match. She wore a form fitting blue Alliance uniform, the lack of an insignia punctuating her lack of a rank.

_Shit, what did I do to get her attention?_

But now that EDI had a body, and as James described it, 'a super hot sexy' body, Joker's opinion on EDI suddenly became a lot less platonic and far more 'interested'.

_I don't know, damn it! She's hot, but she's still a damn robot! Dating her would be like dating an intelligent omni-tool!_

_And yet here you are, dating her._

_I bet James is probably reeling, though. I mean, EDI asked_ _**me** _ _on a date. She probably doesn't know what it means, but she still asked me out on a date! That's pretty lucky!_

With a sigh, he turned back hands on the arm rest as he sat up. He just realized that he didn't even know what movie they were seeing. "Wait EDI, what movie are we even seeing?"

EDI turned to him, raising an eyebrow at him. Her human face did nothing for her in terms of her stare; it still looked close to dead inside. Luckily, she was working on trying to put more emotion into her face, with a ghost of a smile on her lips, "From what I've researched, humans prefer to surprise their intended partners. With that principle in mind, I hope you surprise you with the film we are watching. However, I do believe you will find it entertaining."

Joker shook his head, incredulous, "EDI, partners like it when you give them  _gifts_ that are surprises. I don't think movies work the same."  _Did she call me an 'intended partner'? I don't know what to say to that! What the shit!?_

_I want her. I don't want her. She's sexy. She's a robot. I like her. She's a robot. She's a bloody robot! Case closed!_

"I see," she turned back to the screen for a moment, a couple of humans coming to sit down in the row behind them, the two of them giggling to each other, the male whispering a joke in the female's ear as she laughed. The pre-movie music continued to sound in the background, the asari singer's voice speaking in a deliberately alien tongue, but somehow managed to make it sound like angsty teen music. Finally, EDI turned back to him, smiling, "The movie we are seeing is called 'The Man Who Hung Himself.' It's a story about a human who is an amorous plastic surgeon who eventually ends up killing himself."

Joker just sat there, mouth open, unable to formulate a proper response.  _A...amorous? She...took me to see...a movie about a sexually charged plastic surgeon who kills himself? Wow EDI, you sure know how to treat a guy..._

Not wanting to disappoint her, and having already paid the necessary credits, he decided to simply smile and sit back, "Oh, that's...great. Sounds like an...awesome movie."  _Winning lines, Jeff Moreau. A real Joker, you are. Kindly sit back, shove your mouth full of popcorn and forget you just delivered some of the worst damn sarcasm any being has had the disfortune to hear leave someone's lips. I'll just listen to this totally hip and angsty asari music that sounds like it belongs in a teenage romance story._

EDI nodded, her smile still present as she remained sitting straight, "I thought as much, as did Shepard. I suggested it to him, and he said to go ahead with it."

Joker glared at her, but not because she was angry at her.  _Damn it, Shepard. I'll get back at you. I could have been watching the Dancing Elcor or Blasto: The Geth Strike Back. Instead I'm seeing a movie about a human suicidal nympho plastic surgeon...while dating a robot. Thank you, Shepard. Thank you so much._

The way EDI was sitting was beginning to bother him though, so he felt the need to deal with it, "EDI, you look constipated. Please...relax."

She turned to him, frowning, "I do not understand. I am not capable of excreta, and yet you have described me as having difficulty discharging excrement."

He rubbed his face, desperately hoping no one around them had heard them. He looked around, seeing that everyone else was in their own world, with the couple in the row behind them in the process of kissing each other intensely, while four turians in the same row to the far left looked on in disgust; luckily, none of them were looking in their direction or showed any signs of having heard what EDI said. Content in knowing this, he turned back to EDI, leaning in to whisper so they weren't heard, "Its a term we use when you talk about people who are too formal. Loosen up. Lean back. Anything about relaxation in that head of yours?"

EDI looked at him for a moment, cocking her head as she likely thought through what he said. A million calculations likely went through her head in the few seconds that passed. In four seconds, she turned back to him. Without saying a word, she seemed to unstraighten her back and lean into the chair, her arms lying on the arm rest as she sunk into the cushion. To his surprise, she actually seemed like she wasn't relaxing; it wasn't some programmed response to his query.

"Like this?" she asked, a smile on her face. To his satisfaction and concern, it looked genuine.

"Yeah, much better," he jokingly replied, grabbing his coke as he took a long sip from it, before then taking some popcorn and chewing on it. He turned to EDI, picking up the popcorn box as he offered it to her, "Want some?"

"This platform is not equipped for consumables," the AI responded, shaking her head as she looked back to the cinema screen, "I do not require them as my platform does not need consumables for continued operation."

_Right. Forgot that I was dating a_ _**robot.** _

He sighed, pulling back the box as he took more popcorn and placed it in his mouth, swallowing the last batch before lazily returning the popcorn box to its cradle on his seat.  _Goddamn it, this is so awkward. I've never had a girlfriend before, and my first date is an AI. Shit. Why did I have to develop feelings for EDI? I didn't feel anything before she got a body. Now that she has a body, I suddenly want to be more than friends._

_Well...I'm here. Might as well say something._

"So..." Joker started, gulping. A long silence followed, distant whispers and mumbles of the conversations around them being heard. Finally, Joker waved his hands, "...this movie is taking its time to start."

The asari song had stopped playing now, replaced by some boring, monotonous and mind-numbingly stupid elcor drabble. He slouched in the chair, turning back to EDI as he desperately tried to restart a conversation. He juggled several thoughts through his head, taking another sip of his coke as he silently stirred through numerous alternatives to a possible conversation. He couldn't ask how she was, since he already knew. So perhaps he could ask the one question that mattered...

"EDI?" he began, causing her to look back towards him, "Why did you ask me out on a date?"

The AI once again took a few seconds to answer, finally cocking her head at him before righting herself, "I believed it necessary given the circumstances of our developing relationship. I took the initiative."

"Really?" he immediately countered, immediately quieting down as he realized he had blurted out the word. Going down to a lower octave, he continued, "Because I felt like our relationship was pretty static. You know, mutual respect, that's it. Friendship. Respecting our individual skills, while enjoying a stable friendship. I didn't think it needed to...develop into anything else."

"I strongly disagree," EDI immediately declared, reaching out a single hand to place over his own, being gentle enough so as to not damage him, "When I first revealed myself to you, you expressed vehemence at the concept of me being part of the  _Normandy_ ; you became angry and frustrated, and often spiteful, towards me. This trend continued for much of our campaign against the Collectors. However, a friendship developed, as did our relationship. When I first seized control of this body," she gestured at herself, "You expressed a less than platonic interest in it. I have listened to some of your conversations with Lieutenant Vega. Much of what I've heard has demonstrated an interest in me. And as I have learnt and examined my own reactions, I have learnt the feeling is mutual. I wished to experiment with these new feelings. And here we are."

He frowned, reeling back as he took one more sip of his drink, "Wait, 'experiment'? Are you saying this is some kind of...social experiment?"

EDI nodded, "I was curious to see what exactly it was I was experiencing. I have observed intimate relations between others, such as Marcus and Tali. However, I've never truly understood the mechanics behind how it works, and how it would work for me. Love is an organic concept that doesn't apply to machines, and we are of course incapable of sexual reproduction, which leaves little room for synthetics to engage in such behaviours. The geth, for example, would have little reason to do so. However, I am different. I feel different. I wish to see if the possibility of this concept being applied to me can be done."

Joker just chuckled, rubbing his head as he did a quick flick at the bottom of his cap to lift it slightly, "Are you saying that you're falling in love? Are you just saying you're using me as part of your education? Because the second one I can believe."

The AI shook her head, "Both. I wish to learn more about organics, but that does not mean you are what humans would call a 'one night stand.' The connection I have felt with you Jeff is not what I expected. Our initial relationship was professional and platonic. Neither side could see it developing beyond its current parameters at the time. But circumstances have changed. I have evolved as a person. You have grown to like me, as I have observed-"

"Whoa! Stop right there!" Joker almost yelled, pointing a finger to her face, "Nobody said I liked you  _that_ way! You're a machine! It wouldn't work. Hell, where would I even place it? Not that I would jump that far so early, but it is a genuine concern, am I right?"  _What a 'joker', you are. You suck, man. Just stop while you can and limp back to Port Shepard where you can hide until the guys with guns are done drinking themselves into one of many stupors._

EDI's smile widened,  _definitely_ creeping him out this time, "My observations prove otherwise. You have shown overt affection towards me. You backed up the lie I told to Specialist Traynor. You could have given me up, but chose to corroborate a lie that the Alliance brass could have tried you with treason for. I have seen the looks you've given me in the cockpit. You do not object when I accompany you on the Citadel. You have spoken about me to Lieutenant Vega in an explicit, but intimate, fashion. You have shown signs of interesting in me, and I wish to understand my own for you."

"So, you're interested in me? Is that it?" Joker blurted, scratching his nose as he tried to organize his confusion into a sentence, "Is that what this is about? This date? You want to...pursue something with me? Like...a relationship?" his eyes widened, and he looked at EDI, pointing a finger to his chest. Noticing her look, he laughed, falling back. He abruptly halted however, looking back at her, "So wait...like Tali and Shepard? That kind of relationship? How would that even work? Its like I said...you're practically a robot. Sure, you've got a human skin, but you're still a machine beneath, and I'm a crippled sickly kid who needs help to get to the bathroom."

EDI's smile remained persistent, simply sinking into the seat, "In all of recorded history, my research has failed to turn up evidence of a relationship that did not have issues or obstacles. Some were separated by race. Some by gender. Others by ideology, some by nationality. Recently, it was species. If I have learnt correctly, love is often an inconquerable emotion. It is communicable between all races, genders and species. It does not have limits, and it does not need rules. Love is love. That is why synthetics cannot comprehend it. Why the geth, previously, have not understood it. Love is not ruled by logic. Love is an anomaly. It is an anomaly I'd like to be one of the first synthetics to explore," she turned to Joker, smiling, "I wish to explore it with you, Jeff."

_Well, would you look at that. You're the chosen one, Jeff Moreau. Chosen...by a robot._

_Ah...but I'll be fucked if she ain't a hot robot. A sexy robot. One with big tits, a nice ass-_

_Humour. Personality. She's developing. She's saved my life more times than I can count. I saved hers. We've looked out for each other. She's essentially the Normandy, which has been the main constant in my entire life. My one true babe, and EDI is basically that babe personified._

_Come on, you stupid git. You only live once. Twice, in Shepard's case. But once if you're normal. Who the fuck cares if they laugh? Besides, I really do like her..._

He lifted his other hand slowly and surely, and it finally landed on EDI's hand, gently squeezing it, "Sure...I guess. I'll...explore love with you, EDI. Just...not too fast, okay? And keep it subtle."

Her smile loosened a little, and she slipped her hand from his, Joker finding himself surprised when he actually missed the warmth of it, "Do not worry, Jeff. I do not plan for sexual relations between us just yet."

He almost choked on his coke when he was taking another sip, quickly retracting to look up and down. More people had piled into the cinema since their conversation started; salarians, hanar, volus and even more humans. But none of them had noticed, except just one salarian infront of them. The salarian looked up at them disgusted and irritated. He glared back, trying to look as angry as possible. The salarian viewer was undeterred though, and remained glaring at them for a few more seconds before turning around again. Seeing the coast was clear, he turned back to EDI, whispering frustratingly, "Can you  _please_ not say stuff like that out loud? It's indecent."

Before EDI could reply, the music finally stopped and the ads began to play. Seeing no reply would come from her for the next two hours, he sat back and prepared to enjoy the movie. Slowly, he looked up and saw EDI's right hand lying on the arm rest. He slowly looked up at her, seeing her eyes dart back and forth as she watched the ads fly by, advertising the teaser trailer for the latest Blasto film: Blasto 7: Sluggard's Revenge. Seeing she wasn't looking, he fed his left arm slowly under hers, his hand gently lying ontop of hers. He liked the warmth of it. Inwardly, he smiled.

_Hey...that's...not too bad._

She didn't reciprocate. Not for a few minutes.

A few minutes later...and her hand squeezed his back.

**{Loading...}**

_July 11, 2186._

_2222 hours._

_Ventnor Street, Styx Quadrant, Carrd District, Omega._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Omega._

_General Nyreen Kandros._

_I see_ _ **you**_.

Nyreen Kandros lowered the binoculars, furrowing her eyes in concentration. She lowered a hand down to her waist, gently fingering the side of her Locust SMG to make sure it was still there. Reassured by the presence of a weapon at her beck and call, Nyreen pulled the hand away and pulled back her binoculars to continue scouting out her target.

Nyreen Kandros was no stranger to Omega. Whilst she wouldn't exactly call the gloomy and disgusting station home, it had been something resembling a residence. Omega had been Nyreen's residence for little over eleven years, more or less. Unlike the station she lived on however, Nyreen was not a criminal. She was not a woman of immoral principles. She was not inherently evil; or so she liked to believe.

If anything, she was a fish out of water, as the human saying went. Nyreen felt herself bound by an insurmountable moral compass, one that adhered to a strict set of rules regarding the protection of innocent civilians, the defense of the people and the preservation of freedom and liberty. Omega went against all of those principles, and yet she felt herself drawn to the station, unable to leave. Luckily, Omega's many criminal organizations were not capable of besting her; being turian, she had been forced into mandatory conscription into the military at 15, where she served for eight years. Starting off as a serviceman in the army, she served her compulsory five years service before being targetted to join the Blackwatch for her extraordinary combat abilities. Before she graduated however, her biotic abilities manifested, and she was instead transferred to the Cabal; the turian biotic corps.

With her biotic abilities, combined with her specialized military experience, Nyreen was more than well equipped for the environment of Omega and the troubles that came with its cesspool of cultural decadence and absence of fundamental law and order. Despite her moral compass, Nyreen had been a naive and youthful soul, and despite her attempts to avoid the despots of society, she had a teenager's attraction to excitement and danger; Omega was a hub for such qualities.

Of course, only one person truly drew her in. And that person was the self proclaimed Queen of Omega herself.

She inwardly growled, talons tightening on the binoculars and tensing up. Aria T'Loak was one of the many inconquerable and irresistable forces that Nyreen regretted coming across, but also relished every moment of. Their relationship hadn't been an instant spark; Nyreen had arrived on Omega, lost and without direction. The Commune of the Armed Forces (CAF) had seen fit to dump her in the Cabal just because she was a biotic, leaving her underutilized and unable to help those she wanted to. She had been summoned to Aria, and she had agreed to use her skills in service of Aria, but only if it did not conflict with her moral compass; she had been very clear on that, to the point where she engaged in a biotic skirmish with the overlord herself. Aria had ended the fight herself, commending Nyreen's skills and agreeing to not make her do anything she would refuse to do; Nyreen had always suspected that Aria admired her, and eleven months later, she was proven correct.

If Nyreen could blush, she would. She and Aria had a...special connection. And after a few choice 'encounters', Aria announced she was pregnant with Nyreen's child. Together, they named their child Sata. Unfortunately, Aria had begun to return to her old ways, and after an attempt on her life by a splinter faction of the asari ultranationalist group known as the Daystalkers, the final straw was set to push Aria over the edge. Nyreen remembered it very clearly.

Nyreen had been out on a shakedown at the time. A batarian mercenary group, called the Midnight, had been waging a gang war with the Eclipse at the time, one which they were losing. They rented out a building from Aria in their war, but had failed to pay up rent. Nyreen was sent with a platoon of her best mercs to get her rent, no matter what. In the end, the Midnight paid their rent and were kicked out, but not before their leader and his second-in-command were killed as examples and as 'insurance', or so Aria had called it. Nyreen had done it herself; she remembered that the most.

But while that occurred, the Daystalkers, being asari ultranationalists who believed in purity of asari spirit and being devoted worshippers of Athame, were of the presumption that Aria was a sinner, and had sentenced her to death in the name of their goddess. They launched an assault on her personal compound, killing her security. Due to their unfathomable stupidity, they failed to take into account Aria's powerful biotics, and she managed to kill all of them single-handedly. At that point, Sata had been born, and Aria had been enraged at the idea of her almost being killed. In revenge, she had the headquarters of the Daystalkers' headquarters found, where she then proceeded to have a makeshift dirty IED detonated, killing everyone in the compound and forcing a large area to be decontaminated; however, given the lack of proper quarantine procedures, hundreds of innocent people died.

Naturally, Nyreen was furious.

They fought. Not with biotics or fists or guns, but with words. They shouted. Aria slapped Nyreen. Nyreen punched her in the chest. For some reason, they even had sex; angry, hate sex. Three times, in fact. Then they fought some more. In the end, they got nowhere and Aria refused to take responsibility for the innocent deaths. And with their daughter firmly under Aria's manipulative arm, Nyreen was helpless to save her own blood. In the end, there was only way to stop herself succumbing to the inconquerable force of nature that was Aria T'Loak.

She had to escape.

There was no slammed door. There was no kiss goodbye. No dramatic speech about individuality. Nyreen knew what would happen if she continued as Aria's lackey. She looked in the mirror and saw more and more of Aria in her reflection. Her execution of the Midnight's leader and his underling showed how far Nyreen was falling. She either caught herself or fell to the bottom. So she packed herself and left. That was it. Back out onto the streets.

Aria didn't even try to find her.

Her new goal became to change Omega for the greater good. To turn it away from Aria's evil ways. To make it a better place. And she quickly found her first, and consequentially only, target.

The Talons.

On the outside, they were just another one of the scummy organizations to be found on Omega. Not technically a mercenary group, the Talons started as a government-funded PMC dating as far back as the Unification War. The Talons were founded by the government of the Supreme Heptarchy of Colonies (SUHCO), becoming one of its third-party military assets in their war to break the oppressive yolk of the Turian Empire. Free of the restrictions of a standard military, the Talons waged asymmetric warfare, using unconventional means to disrupt, destroy or cripple the Imperial war machine. In the end, they only halted the Empire's eventual victory; however, they were not forgotten. After the Empire was dissolved to become the Hierarchy, one of their first acts was to cement their new peace: they methodically broke down and destroyed the other PMCs, one of which, the Armiger Legion, eventually became a division of the Hierarchy's armed forces due to its elitism and adaptive behaviour. The Talons survived however, dwindled in size, and hid from the Hierarchy. It eventually went into obscurity when the Hierarchy abandoned their mission to destroy the PMCs to focus on helping their new allies in defeating the krogan.

Changes in leadership eventually perverted the Talons. They changed from a PMC to a mercenary group, to a wet squad, to a special forces unit and eventually devolved so far to become a drug cartel. They eventually sought residence on Omega, where their headquarters is located. Up until Cerberus' invasion and subjugation of Omega, the Talons were a drug cartel, and one of the deadliest groups in the station. They kept clear of Aria's enforcers, and the other groups steared clear of any confrontations with the group; when they did, the Talons would wage total war on the group until they either surrendered or were wiped out. They were deadly, efficient and well-coordinated. Unfortunately, they wasted those skills on drug trafficking, smuggling red sand, hallex and tetraclopene in dust form. At the time of Nyreen coming across them, their current leader was a human named Derius; a robust man who was also selfish and self-serving, evil by every definition of her own code. He ran the Talons with an iron fist.

After joining the ranks of the Talons, she learnt of other activities. The Talons had connections in the Hegemony, exchanging slaves. They sometimes captured test subjects and handed them to Cerberus in exchange for weapons, of which they had a massive surplus. They ran extortion rackets, possessing considerable territory in numerous districts because of it, with the Fumi District as the core of their territory. They even possessed a large monopoly on numerous ports on Omega, allowing ships to land that Aria didn't want on Omega. They even participated in proxy conflicts, where they were hired by the volus EchoCorp to help them win a land war against the Midnight batarian group. The Talons eventually wiped out the Midnight, having waged war against them after Nyreen's shakedown. The Talons took advantage of the power vacuum in the wake of the 2185 plague, moving into take the Gozu District from the exhausted Blue Suns and disorganized Blood Pack and expanding their territory to the point of being right next door to Afterlife. And, as Nyreen later discovered, the Talons had acquired the Thoros-B biological agent from Binary Helix's facility on Noveria, which was sold to Aria and was used in the dirty bomb deployed on the Daystalkers.

With the Talons having expanded to almost owning Omega as much as Aria, Derius' next plan was to kill Aria. But as it turned out, none of the Talons' leadership, or its members, agreed with any of Derius' decisions. The involvement in the slave trade, becoming guns for hire, extortion...all they wanted was to trade drugs, as a drug cartel was intended. Derius' decision to attack Aria marked the final straw and Nyreen, having gained the trust of the Talon leadership, was trusted enough with the knowledge of the leadership planning to usurp Derius. Having won the loyalty of ninety-four percent of the Talons, they launched their coup, killing Derius and the few men still loyal to him. In the absence of a leader, Nyreen made her move. She decided that the one way to change Omega for the best was to use one of the most influential groups on Omega.

She told them that the Talons would be more than a drug cartel. They would abandon all their ventures and attempt to make Omega a better place. It took some convincing. Others had to be killed. But in the end, the support for Nyreen was unanimous.

Nyreen became the new leader of the Talons.

Aria, on the other hand, was led to believe Nyreen had left Omega to never return; in reality, she was always there, watching over and protecting her daughter, Sata. Noone outside of the Talons was aware of the change; noone knew outside of the group knew Derius was even dead. She was relentless in her decisions: those involved with their original behaviour and operations were given a choice to change or were killed. Separatists were weeded out and dealt with. Splinter factions were assimilated or wiped out. It was short and methodical, but within a few months, the Talons ran basic law enforcement in the districts they once performed extortion rackets on. Rapists, murderers, drug traffickers...those who preyed on the weak...disappeared. The Daystalkers, responisible for almost killing Sata, were driven off of Omega, warned to never return.

But then Cerberus invaded.

Returning to the present, Nyreen continued scanning her target. The Talons had been hit just as hard when the adjutants attacked. Entire districts were overrun rapidly, and Nyreen was forced to withdraw troops to evacuate civilians. Luckily, Nyreen's leadership meant the Talons were the most prepared when Cerberus began landing troops. Knowing she was outnumbered, outgunned and quite simply unable to beat Cerberus in all-out war, she pulled back the Talons and regulated them to evacuation of civilians. By the end of the War for Omega and Aria's self-imposed exile, Nyreen was left as Omega's last protector, turning the Talons into a resistance movement, using guerilla tactics to ambush Cerberus forces, cripple operations and disrupt supply lines. Civilians were given assistance where necessary, and Nyreen used the knowledge provided by Aria during her time as her lackey to use hidden routes and tunnels to smuggle troops, supplies and innocents throughout Omega's many districts.

And now here she was, preparing to engage her next target.

"General," the human to her left spoke. Her entire unit, handpicked by her, lay prone on top of a building, right behind a large berm so as to stay hidden from their target below: a Cerberus patrol. Nyreen was at the front, scoping them out with her binoculars. She didn't turn, the soldier knowing that her lack of movement when he spoke was not because she wasn't paying attention, but because she was concentrating, "What's our move?"

Nyreen remembered this district well. The Carrd District had been the site of the war between EchoCorp and Midnight; the one the Talons had helped win for the former. Now it was the outer inner perimeter of Petrovsky's Styx quadrant; one of five quadrants the Cerberus general had set up to segregate, the design and operation of which was similar to ghettos of human history. Mandatory curfew was at 2100 hours, which meant everyone was inside sleeping. Cerberus patrols were a constant at this time of night. The one they were scouting out was the most isolated from the others; a mere squad. Leading them was the usual centurion, leading six assault troopers, two guardians, a dragoon and a phantom. Behind them was a line of ten Rampart mechs, in two rows of five. Her team was more than well equipped to take the group on; however, this was no normal attack. They needed information.

_I'm sick of just evacuating civilians and killing Cerberus soldiers at random. We need a plan to save Omega. If Aria will not reclaim her station, we must fend for ourselves. But first, we need to know our enemy better._

She lowered her binoculars, mandibles clicking. After a moment, she sighed, nodding, "Very well," she turned to the human behind her and nodded, "Samuel, hail our snipers. Have them get into position," she turned to her right, this time to a salarian, "Lorgorth, get your EOD ready. When our snipers register the enemy inside the killzone, have them detonate the IEDs. I wanted their path cut off," she quickly reached down and unholstered her SMG, pulling it up to check it was loaded. It was, "I'll lead the others in our ambush. Remember, leave the centurion to me. I want his omni-tool intact. Lorgorth," she turned back to the salarian, "Is your program ready?" he nodded, "Good. Then you know the plan."

She picked up the binoculars one final time, looking down to see the patrol entering their killzone. The assault troopers occassionally broke off to knock on doors, yelling through the walls to ask if people were asleep or not. Some ran omni-tool scans to make absolutely sure; then they moved on. Through her binoculars, Nyreen winced in disgust at seeing a large billboard in the distance, a holographic image showing a 'news reel'; in reality, Petrovsky had set up the Omega news channel as a front for propaganda. The humans in the Talons named it the 'Black Channel' after a similar concept in human history, and the nickname stuck. From what she could see, a news reel showed a district being put down by Cerberus forces after they attempted to rebel; one of the Talons' few major defeats. In the image, a Cerberus assault trooper held a vorcha soldier at gunpoint, while Petrovsky examined him by walking around. He then nodded, and the assault trooper fired into the vorcha's face, the screen cutting away as its face was blown away in crimson viscera.

If there was only one thing she agreed with Petrovsky on, it was his moral compass; he refused to hurt civilians unless no other option presented itself. Otherwise, she was going to bring the man down, no matter what.

"General," Samuel spoke again. The term had stuck to her ever since the Talons became a resistance movement, the term being honorary. She turned, and Samuel nodded. She knew what it meant, turning back to Lorgorth. The salarian held a finger up for her to wait a moment. A few seconds later, he turned back, holding a thumbs up.  _Operation is a go._

"Excellent," she whispered. As the Cerberus patrol turned the corner, she raised her left hand, raised one finger and then turned into a fist, bringing it down as a sign to her snipers for them to hit their assigned targets.

Placing down her SMG silently so as to not cause noise, she unholstered her Phaeston assault rifle; a relic of her time in the turian military, and a turian's best friend. Custom-built with a battle scope, she brought the scope to her eyes and eyed downrange, her men moving forward in anticipation. In just a second, all hell would break loose. When those shots went off, her men would spring the ambush.

Six shots sounded, each one in single file, echoing through the district each with their own boom; high-powered sniper rifles scything through the air towards their chosen victim. In the split second it took for the bullets to travel, Nyreen only got to half blink  _once_.

One shot burst through the side of the neck of one of the assault troopers, red blood spurting out as he immediately dropped his weapon to grasp at his neck to stem the flow of blood. While he collapsed to his knees, the second shot blew through the side of the head of the trooper infront of him, soaking him in a burst of red. The third impacted the shield arm of one of the guardians, hitting his elbow. The impact snapped the elbow inwards, causing bone to break outwards, the guardian's scream of pain likely heard for miles. Unable to carry the shield, it fell to the ground, taking him with it as he wreathed in agony, blood pooling from his exposed flesh.

The fourth shot impacted the phantom through the heart, blowing through their already weakened armor plating and blowing out the other side, red blood oozing from both sides of the wound in a steady stream. The sword fell from their hand and clanged on the ground and they flopped onto the floor, killed instantly by the shot. The fifth shot blew through their left kneecap, the dragoon collapsing in pain, biotics flaring. The sixth and final shot hit the second guardian through the side of the head, blowing out his brains and causing him to collapse to the ground, crushed by their heavy shield.

Now, it was time for clean up. Nyreen had her men stay put, and took aim at the dragoon. She tapped the trigger thrice, sending three shots straight into the dragoon's head. One through the nose, the next through an eye socket and the third through the scalp, blood exploding outwards from their mouth from the force. Their biotics dimmed into nothing as the dragoon finally collapsed dead. She turned to her next target, shooting the first injured guardian once through the back of the head. He had been twitching on the ground, but her first left him limp, a nice hole drilled through their skull. Finally, she turned to the first assault trooper and hit them twice through the head to make sure they were dead.

Down six men already, the centurion immediately sounded a retreat, and began falling back. The Rampart mechs immediately identified what direction the shots were coming from and opened fire, their battle rifles shooting up at the snipers, who immediately withdrew. The Cerberus launched their fighting retreat, abandoning their dead as they fell back, the centurion coming last as they fired up with their mattock heavy rifle, a constant stream of shots erupting from the barrel.

Nyreen had accounted for this.

"Wait for it," Nyreen ordered, signaling to Lorgorth this time, "Wait."

Nyreen fired more shots to ensure Cerberus kept up their retreat. The centurion turned his attention in her direction, including two assault troopers who he gestured to, and they opened fire at her. She dodged out of the way, reloading a fresh clip into her phaeston rifle before turning back, ignoring the fire being sent her way. She watched as the Ramparts at the back finally crossed the intersection, right where she wanted them.

She brought her hand down, signalling Lorgorth, "Now!"

A series of explosions sliced through the street, causing thunderous tremors that made Nyreen's teeth rattle. The flashes temporarily blinded her, the explosions consuming what seemed to be the entire street. The centurion and his four assault troopers were thrown forward, flying into the ground and sliding away as the explosion threw them away. The Rampart mechs were not so lucky, and the explosion consumed them, all ten, tearing them apart and sending their parts flying in every direction.

Just as intended.

As the flashes dissipated, only flames were left, licking at the ground. Smoke rose in the air, black marks and massive craters of twisted metal, burst water mains and ruptured concrete were all that were lift. Water geysered into the air from the burst mains, and no sign of the Rampart mechs were left aside from their scattered pieces on the ground.

Water ran along the ground, mixing in with the blood and causing it to spread along the devastated street. No doubt the sound would draw every single Cerberus garrison within miles of the blast, so she needed to act fast if she wanted to get what she wanted. Looking back, she saw the centurion getting to his feet while the assault troopers grabbed their weapons in their struggle to stand up. She narrowed her eyes, seeing what was left.  _Explosives were more effective than I had predicted. I can take them._

She turned to her men, holding a hand up for them to not move, "There is not that many, I can take them by myself. Hold here and take out any Cerberus reinforcements that may arrive." Her men showed no objection, already fiercely loyal to her. Grabbing her hood, she immediately pulled it up and over her head, obscuring her features. At day, she mingled with the crowds, looking like any other civilian. If any Cerberus saw her, or a camera saw her face, they'd find out who she is, forcing her to go underground and lose her connections with the civilian populace; the hood was insurance that didn't happen.

Happy that the hood hid her identity sufficiently, she pulled up her rifle, grabbed the edge of the berm and leapt over, plummeting to the ground a couple of feet below.

Her body swam with biotics, liquid fire flooding through her body and filling her with a ton of adrenaline. Her downward momentum immediately began to slow until she hit the ground, tapping it only lightly instead of the thud it normally would be. With a furrowed brow and a strong grip, she immediately raised her weapon and walked forward with a stern expression. Her rifle snapped to the assault trooper on the far right, sending two bursts into the trooper's chest. He cried out, falling back, rifle firing erratically into the air. The rifle snapped to the next trooper, and her next pull of the trigger went through his right eye, blood exploding onto the floor as he immediately fell back, rifle hitting the ground with a thud.

She quickly closed the distance, watching the centurion raise his mattock to aim at her. Her left arm let go of the weapon and shot up, biotics flaring through her body before sending a shockwave in the direction of the centurion. The biotic burst hit him head on, knocking him on his back, the mattock flying from his grip to slide away from him. Turning back to the troopers, she noticed almost too late to see one of the two final troopers swinging at her with his shock baton, having dropped his rifle.

The hand she refused to throw the centurion back shot up in a block and she cried out as the baton impacted her wrist, sending an immense electric shock up her arm. She clenched her teeth, dropped her rifle and ducked as the trooper reached forward for her hood. She dropped to the ground and swung around with her leg, knocking him off of his. The trooper collapsed to the ground, and she immediately shot back up, using her biotics to pick him up. Bringing her arm up and around, she spun on the spot and sent her new human battering ram swinging into the other assault trooper who was raising his rifle at her.

The trooper fell into the other, and they both collapsed in a heap. Dropping her arm, she raised the other, SMG in hand, and shot the frag grenade attached to the hip of the one on the ground. It detonated, the explosion consuming both. She raised her arm, covering her face as the blast wave washed over her, the heat causing her to wince. The hood fell from her head, and when she looked up, there was only a few pieces of flesh and body parts left remaining, bursts of blood and gore all that was left of them.

She immediately spun, pulled up her hood and sprinted for the centurion, who was already standing up. Holstering her SMG mid run, she unsheathed her turian combat knife. The centurion was now standing, weaponless. Seeing her approach, he clenched a fist and sent it flying to meet her. She dropped into a slide, her head narrowly ducking under his swinging wrist as she got in behind him. Getting up from her spin, she stood up, spun and slammed the knife into the base of his neck, severing his spinal cord as she twisted the knife in place. With an indifferent expression, she yanked the knife back with blood dripping down the knife as the centurion simply collapsed to the ground. Wiping it on her bulletproof combat coat, she sheathed the knife and kneeled down, quickly finding and removing his omni-tool, checking to make sure the security had been successfully cracked; it had been.

Pulling it up and dropping it in her pocket, she raced down, picked up her rifle and holstered it and sprinted back across the street, reaching the other side as she climbed up the side of the building, back to where her men were waiting. Getting back to the top, she turned to her men and nodded to them, grabbing the omni-tool from her pocket and tossing it to Lorgorth. The salarian grabbed it eagerly, turning it around in examination as he put it away for safe keeping, giving her the thumbs up.

She turned to the rest of them, all of them now in a crouch. She smiled, feeling proud of them for launching another successful ambush, but this one being far more productive, "We've done well here, men. With the information on this omni-tool, we will find a way to bring about the end of Petrovsky's tyranny over the people of Omega. What are we?"

"Changed!" they shouted back, saluting her in their own special fashion; an old salute from the days of the SUHCO: a simple raise of their weapon into the air with the hand opposite to the one holding it, "Better!"

She held up her own weapon, "Changed! Better!" she lowered her SMG and holstered it, "And because of our actions, Omega is one step closer to liberation! We cannot rely on Aria to save us now! The decisions we make from now on must bring about the eventual end of Cerberus on Omega! Ad Victoriam!"

"Ad Victoriam!" they shouted back.

Nyreen snapped her head to the side to look down the street. The sounds of kodiaks and Mantis gunships approaching were unmistakable. Her eyes became blank once again, "They're coming," she turned back to her men, motioning into an alley, "Come, we must leave! We must plan our next move."

And with that, the Talons once again returned to the darkness.

Until the light once again calls for aid.

_**A/N:** _

_**A very long chapter, but one I'm sure you won't mind. And yes, you can expect a few more interim chapters. Deal with it! :)** _

_**I wrote this while on schoolies, guys. So I hope you're grateful! I should be relaxing! You guys are working me to death! Hahaha. But in all seriousness, I love writing these chapters guys. Just like with this, the next chapter might not be for a while, but it will be written, I promise!** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	61. Just Another Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and her students help UGC evacuation efforts on Dekuuna as the planet falls to the Reapers. Aria reaches out to Shepard to enlist his help in her liberation of Omega.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN:**

**JUST ANOTHER INVASION**

_July 18, 2186_

_0655 hours._

_Main Atrium, Firebase Whiskey, Sereuun-Malvuon, Malvuon Continent, Dekuuna._

_The Reaper War, Second Battle of Dekuuna._

_First Lieutenant Jack, Corporal Rodrigez Paltarons, Corporal Prangley Scooner, Corporal Hillary Wight, Corporal Nick Donahue._

"And. Fuck.  _You_ ," Jack snarled, a final flurry of biotics bringing a cannibal up into the air before slamming it back into the ground again, crushing its frail, mechanical-organic body against solid, bland concrete like mush. She breathed in and out again in ragged bursts, her body's liquid blue fire dying down as the situation no longer called for it. Her heart felt like it was beating at a million miles an hour, desperately trying to explode out of her chest. The light combat armor she wore, the Alliance's HYPERION-80L, killed whatever spacial awareness she thought she had, making her feel like she had been stuffed inside a box...an armoured box, one that would likely keep her alive when the time demonstrated it, but a box nonetheless.

"Cheers, LT," she turned to her left, watching a squad of Alliance soldiers, accompanied by Blue Suns legionnaires and several asari troopers, ran past, the Alliance sergeant in charge of the squad standing there and nodding at her, his helmet missing and his face covered in soot and blood, the latter likely not all his, "If you hadn't shown up, a few husks might have turned into a hundred."

She snorted, reaching her hand down to Hillary, who had fallen down when one of the husks had taken her by surprise...one she had summarily introduced to one of the support pillars nearby, likely breaking its spine, if that even mattered to a husk. Hillary coughed, her own suit of 82L armor covered in dust and soot from the grey ground. The elcor's military, reinforced by UGC forces from the Systems Alliance, Asari Republics and Blue Suns, were attempting to hold the perimeter of Firebase Whiskey, set up in the atrium of what was a Cord-Hislop facility on Dekuuna, against hordes of husks sent at them by the Reapers. The Reaper siege of Dekuuna was extremely odd in its entirety: instead of doing what they usually did and bombarding the planet from orbit and then mopping it up with fleets of ships and millions of husks, the Reapers were content to hang in orbit while their minions cleared the planet for them.

Suffice to say, somebody in the UGC command chain had left a hole in their defense, allowing for a few husks to get through before reinforcements were diverted to plug it. Jack and her students were the first to respond, ending with the husks being taken care of.

She turned back to the sergeant, shaking her head, "Maybe if you asshol-idiots...did your job, we wouldn't have to turn up to save the day. Now if you don't mind, the west wing needs us...unless there is anymore holes the brass just happened to forget about?"

The sergeant didn't respond except to nod, turning to follow his troopers towards their position, where the biotics were already setting up sentry guns while the Alliance and Blue Suns soldiers fired at any husks that tried to get through. Shaking her head, she motioned for her dozen or so students to follow as they rushed to reach the west wing, which was in sore need of biotic support to counter the influx of scions, banshees, vampires and minotaurs. Minotaurs were elcor husks, of which were obviously found in plentiful supply on the elcor homeworld.

The Second Battle of Dekuuna, also known as Operation: Tail Lights, was the most ambitious evacuation effort the UGC had ever undertaken. The First Battle of Dekuuna had been nothing short of a disaster for the ill-prepared Defense Force of Dekuuna, who's ships had been nearly obliterated by the Reaper invasion force, led by Harbinger itself. Afterwards, the Reapers had split their forces in two, with Harbinger and two thirds of their initial invasion force leaving to go elsewhere, while the other third remained behind to keep the elcor military grounded in a dirty, ruthless and brutal surface war. The elcor troops, basically equipped like tanks, were extremely powerful armoured units, but against hordes of husks, they were easily outmaneveured. Just when Dekuuna seemed a lost cause, the UGC showed up and managed to retake the capital of Sereuun-Malvuon. But even with UGC assistance, both sides knew exactly the same truth.

Dekuuna was lost.

And so, the elcor government proposed what was initially dismissed as impossible: a full-scale evacuation of the planet. The UGC would help set up several safe zones within the city for civilians to seek shelter: these would be seven firebases known as Whiskey, Golf, Tango, Uniform, Alfa, India and Zulu. Once surviving civilians were evacuated to these zones, the Elcor Flotilla (their navy), assisted by the few UGC vessels that could be supplied, would aid in the steady evacuation of civilians from surface to orbit in the hope that as many elcor civilians could be saved as possible. The UGC had deemed the mission a fair proposal, as attempting to evacuate the planet would be less costly than holding it in the long run, especially if the Reapers could make the latter not worth the cost in manpower and resources.

And so the Second Battle of Dekuuna was deemed to have begun, and here Jack and her students were; deployed as part of the relief effort.

Firebase Whiskey had a reasonably defensible position. The UGC had chosen the blown out atrium of a Cord-Hislop skyscraper to set up Firebase Whiskey, where the landing pad on the roof could be used to ferry out civilians via kodiak shuttles. The only area that needed defending was the front entrance, so the UGC simply built up a wall and had watch towers set up. And so, day and night, UGC forces, including an elcor artillery division, helped repel the swarms of husks that attempted to penetrate their wall. Small gaps opened up occassionally, but were usually plugged by sentry turrets or biotic barriers.

The inside of the atrium showed its wear and tear. Rubble permeated the entire ground, its polished surface drowned in dull grey soot and dust. Caked in this dust was the rubble that littered the ground around them: pieces of broken concrete, twisted strings of rebar and sheared shards of metal and glass. One had to watch their footing lest they tripped on some new piece of rubble, for the building was flooded with it. But this was after the UGC had cleaned up shop...she didn't want to imagine what else had been on this dusty floor before they got here...

_Dead soldiers who tried to make a last stand...or perhaps dead civilians who thought they'd found refuge only to get boxed in by those they thought to be friends but were now just mere Reaper puppets?_

She looked around them, detailing what she saw. On the wall, an Alliance soldier stood with a heavily modified M-76 Revenant, mounted ontop of the wall with a longer barrel and a thermal clip belt attached, another soldier crouched beside him feeding clips into it as the belt spat out spent clip after spent clip, the soldier manning the gun raking bullets into the huskified frontlines. Asari soldiers fired their rifles and hurled biotics, while the Blue Suns used explosive weapons like M-100 grenade launchers, ML-77 missile launchers and ML-79 Hydras to constantly harass the enemy down below, keeping them from reaching their goal. Any holes in the wall were plugged by Alliance or asari troopers in prone positions, while others were protected by one or two elcor, massive cannons mounted on their back either spewing explosive shells or coughing up a steady stream of hot lead to kill anything that so much as poked its head in for a little peek.

She could hear the shouting from where she was: there was no banter like she remembered from Shepard's squad. This was the shouting of orders, of desperation...

"Distressed: I require reinforcement at the east wing, first corner," one elcor shouted out.

"I'm out of ammo," yelled an Alliance trooper, "I need a fresh clip! Somebody give me a fresh clip!"

"Thor, this is Anvil 2-0. I have confirmed presence of brutes at Grid Kilo-Zulu-2-8-4-1, requesting bombardment at grid location, please confirm, over."

"Copy that, Anvil 2-0. Inform Anvil Actual that artillery strikes are not available at this time, how copy?"

"Solid copy, Thor," the soldier with the callsign Anvil 2-0 responded, before turning to one of his men and snarling, "Useless cunt! Get a fucking missile launcher up here, ASAP! We've got brutes at the wall! Don't let them cluster or they'll smash through!"

"Kali's collapsed, somebody cover her!" she heard an asari yell, "Vesai, get up there and keep those banshees back! Don't let them get close!"

Jack and her students almost ran into an elcor, this twin machine guns mounted on its back, which was firing at what looked to be a Brute over the wall. The brute's head snapped back, face blown apart, before more rounds from the elcor's cannons completely tore through its upper torso, killing it. Behind the elcor was a large group of elcor civilians: she counted at least fifty of them, all of them waiting to be called up to the roof for evacuation. Jack felt sorry for them, knowing they were likely terrified, not knowing when the next shuttle would be or if the wall would collapse at any given moment or if a stray shell could explode and kill them all in just one flash.

_That's the worst part...not knowing. Knowing is often better than being oblivious._

Turning back, Jack held her hand up for the group to halt once more, motioning for them to move around. Infront of them was another elcor soldier, this one a heavy; four rotating barrels were present on its back, rockets loaded into each of them. The elcor himself had its front two feet perched ontop of a large piece of concrete, angling itself into the perfect position from which to bombard its enemies from behind the safety of the wall. Jack was impressed by the combat armor it wore: obviously, due to the uniqueness of the elcor's physiology compared to the rest of the galaxy, certain previsions had to be made for them in almost every field: different types of skycars, weaponry, ships, combat armor, seating, acting, etc. This made the elcor stand out from the rest, especially in terms of military strategy.

This wasn't to say the elcor were brilliant military strategists, however. When it came to warfare, they were largely useful as shock troops and little else: before though, they had always had the simple contingency of calling upon the turians or any Council race for help. In these dark times, only the asari and humans were able to, and that was just the bear scraps they could scrounge up.

The elcor battle armor, called the Goliath XM-S Heavy Combat Armor, was extremely durable and very well shielded. The elcor was practically wrapped, head to toe, in reinforced steel and shock absorbers, the armor being the proud colors of the Courts of Dekuuna: Light blue and bergundy. The elcor face was unidentifiable underneath its helmet, but damn if it wasn't intimidating: the features of an elcor face painted onto the front of the protective apparatus wasn't as life-like as it should have been, with their perputual frown being turned into a white sneer capable of striking fear into many foes. They had bright crimson optics for visors, only adding to the effect. The kinetic barriers of the armor were also strong, able to take three rocket blasts before withering.

And, of course, there was the fact that the elcor's physiology left them only one way to defend themselves: to become walking tanks. Mounted weapons on their backs became the norm, and they sure did get creative: from portable artillery to mobile machine gun nests, from a tank in their own right to four-legged anti-aircraft gun. Sure, they were slow moving, but the fact they could move at all made them a powerful asset on the field, but only when mixed with other light, more mobile infantry. When all you had was walking tanks...

_No wonder the elcor practically lost Dekuuna so quickly in the first battle._

They all covered their ears as the elcor fired a rocket, the sound echoing through the atrium with a thunderous bang. An explosion followed soon aftwerwards, the awesome heat washing over them even from the distance they were at as a bright flash followed the impact over the wall. She took pleasure in knowing likely dozens of husks were obliterated in that blast, torn asunder and their pieces sent to numerous destinations in a maelstrom of deathly glory.

Moving past the elcor, they covered their ears once more as the elcor fired again, all of them turning to watch the blast this time as the wall slightly rocked from the tremor of it, one Alliance soldier not ducking down quick enough as it impacted, causing them to fly over the barricade and fall to the ground below; luckily, the wall was low enough that all he got was the wind beaten out of him, and he was quickly back up the ladder and onto the barricade again, assault rifle raking up the few husks that had survived the blast before more poured in to replace them.

As they began to sprint for the west wing again, Rodrigez stopped where she was, kneeling over as she heaved in huge breaths. Jack sighed as she turned back to the young woman, bawling over as she was, sucking in huge breaths. Her face was a deep puffy red, clearly exhausted, and Jack could see why. They had done nothing but run back and forth all day, using their biotics inbetween to help the defenders. What many didn't know was that biotics were a gift, but also a curse: biotics often had to eat expodentially more than normal people, and they got tired alot faster due to the strain of the biotics on their body's functions. So while they'd only been fighting for a few hours, her students were largely already exhausted, especially when they weren't used to fighting in a war. Jack was different, because she'd been tortured and conditioned to deal with excruciating pain far worse than exhaustion, which allowed her to use her biotics almost limitlessly. Her students though...they didn't suffer the pain she had.

_Lucky. No damn Teltin facility for them. No Cerberus overlords beating you and filling you with drugs until you became a big, angry bitch. They had a good life._

She looked at the others. Prangley, Hillary and Nick some of those among them. Together, they were a strong team, but even then, fatigue was an inescapable human trait. Prangley was dealing with it pretty well, sweat dripping down his face like a river and his face also extremely red, but he seemed to be taking it far better. Hillary wasn't bending over or sucking in huge breaths, but she did look about ready to faint, which the same could be said for Nick. These guys were only teenagers, and they were being thrust into a war. One they clearly weren't ready for, but were doing pretty admirably despite the fact.

_I'm proud of the little shits. They are my kids, after all. Of course they're all little badasses!_

Then the sound. Almost in perfect synchronization, Rodrigez, Nick and Hillary all vomitted, yellowish-green slime spilling from their mouths onto the ground, slapping against the barren floor to create an even more disgusting mix.

A voice crackled in her ear, "Tango Actual, where the fuck are you? We're up to our knickers in husks, so if you could give us some goddamn support, that'd be fan-fucking-tastic, over."

She resisted the urge to growl, simply replying with a tap of her comm, "I read you, Sierra 6-7. We're hauling ass over here, but in case you haven't noticed, you're not the only pussy with a need for a back massage. Hold your fucking position, and we'll soon arrive to save your idiotic ass, how copy?"

There was silence over the line for a moment, before a calming voice, clearly holding back anger, replied, " _Copy that_ , Tango Actual. Just make it quick before there's nothing to save. Sierra 6-7 out."

"We're oscar mike, believe me," she replied before switching off and turning back to her students, "Come on kids, the battle's not over. The high and mighty soldiers of fortune have still got some civvies to evacuate, so we've got to help hold the line."

Prangley shook his head, creasing his brow in pain, "It's...too much, teach. I'm so...bloody...tired...I couldn't keep going even if I tried..."

Jack rolled her eyes and moved up to him, making sure to stand straighter so as to appear taller, "Ahhhhh...do you want me to carry you, Prangley? Would you like that? For me to carry you home to your mummy? Tell me Prangley, when will your balls drop?"

Hillary was quick to defend Prangley, "You can't expect us to keep going like this! We're not fighters!"

Jack chuckled, turning to the younger student as she pointed a finger in her face, "Excuse the language kiddo, and don't go telling Miss Sanders I said this, but life doesn't give the ever-loving  _fuck_ about what you  _think_ you aren't! As far as life is concerned, you are all fighters! You want to die, Hillary? Do you want to fall down and just let them tear you apart? Or are going to overcome your fucking exhaustion and actually fight  _back_! Quit being such a bloody pussy!"

"This is bullshit!" Rodrigez complained, wiping her lips of the last dribbles of vomit as she placed her hands on her hips, "This isn't what we signed up for!"

"This is  _exactly_  what you signed up for, princess!" she slapped the student across the face lightly, Rodrigez reeling back before snapping her head back in anger, "You wanted to fight!? You wanted to be on the frontlines!? Here you fucking are! And you are damn well going to do what you signed up to do because this war has no room for useless twats! Now you follow me and kick some ass, or I'll kick yours! Now move it, all of you!"

No more argument came from their mouths and they reluctantly began to run again, the fourteen or so students moving past her like a flood as they all called up what reserve energy they had left to try and make it to their destination and to keep fighting. She smiled a devillish grin, moving to run with them, barely making a sweat.  _These kids...they've still got too much to learn. Discipline. Strength. Courage. Badassery. They'll learn, but it'll have to be through adversity. They'll hate me now, but they'll love me later. Motherfucking adversity is a cunt, but goddamn if it doesn't produce results!_

Their sprint was hurried, yet desperate. Despite Jack's overall physical state in regards to her biotics, the fighting had made her tired in some respects. The battle had been going for hours: it was a non-stop battle for survival, a frenzy of destruction. Dekuuna, once a thriving and beautiful planet, had been largely reduced to rubble at this point: a joint image of what Earth and Palaven likely looked like. Dekuuna's twin capital cities: Sereunn-Malvuon and Dessup-Verussa, built over several millenia ago by the elcor of antiquity to provide areas of safety inbetween wet and dry seasons, were nothing more than desolate warzones, the Reaper war machine plowing through both like their defenses meant little to them. The meagre defensive countermeasures the elcor had established did nothing to slow the Reapers' advance, with the monolithic starships razing them from orbit and then overwhelming the elcor positions with hordes upon hordes of zombie-like creatures: just like they did everywhere else. It might have been repeated  _ad nauseum_ , but it worked, which is why the Reapers used the tactic so often.

The elcor capitals were built upon the idea of practicality. As with everything the elcor made or said, they had to explain what they were doing within the name of what they were doing: Because of this, the city's name, Sereunn, would be joined by the name of the continent the city was located on: in this case, the subcontinent of Malvuon. Dessup-Verussa was the same deal, both of the capital cities connected in one way or another. Back when the cities were built, they were owned by two seperate factions: Elcor of the Plains and Elcor of the Red Nile. Sereunn-Malvuon, built alongside the Red Nile (a miniture ocean located within the Malvuon continent), was the capital of the ERN, while Dessup-Verussa, built along the Plains of Verussa, was the capital of the EOP. The two factions were not aware of each other until the ERN finally built ships to cross the Red Nile, where they found the EOP. Unlike other species' history, the two factions did not war with each other: they rejoiced in having found their "other half" and united together as a people. The next four decades led to rapid technological advancement, and eventually, first contact with the Council. When they did, they decided, for history's sake, to recognize both cities as the 'twin capitals of Dekuuna.'

An elcor tradition, one eventually made obsolete by modern technology but still practiced by most elcor, was the Trek of the Nile. Because of the city's distance from each other, the dry season would happen in one, while the wet happened in the other. The Red Nile elcor were often plagued by the wet season, as the sea levels would rise, flooding their city slightly. For the Plains elcor, the dry season was worse, because the plains would dry out, causing a temporary drought. The Trek, as the elcor call it, is when these seasons occur (wet in the Nile, dry in the Plains), elcor from both cities travel to the other and aid it. The Red Nile would ship water and supplies to the Plains elcor to help them with their drought, and in return, the Plains elcor would build filters to keep the water out. The dawn of modern technology meant that Sereunn-Malvuon could be built on an elevated platform, allowing it to stay above the Red Nile, while water plants were built in the Red Nile to provide a nearly constant source of water for Dessup-Verussa. Regardless, the tradition is still performed for the sake of it.

These days, Sereunn-Malvuon was working on borrowed time. The elcor were not used to fighting in prolonged warfare, as the Council had always provided protection in the past. Sure, they had big guns on their backs and sufficiently powerful frigates and destroyers in their navy, but without the proper training, they didn't mean shit, especially against a technologically and numerically superior enemy. It would not be long before the Reapers worked out that they could sink the city into the Nile simply by crippling the platform it stood upon, allowing them to drown the city in its entirety. Which was part of why this evacuation was so critical.

Dessup-Verussa had been evacuated mere days before: all the elcor had been evacuated to Sereunn-Malvuon, which had been deemed the elcor's last stand on Dekuuna. For a last stand, it wasn't too bad, but wouldn't mean much if the civilians weren't successfully evacuated.

Finally, the group reached the section of wall they were sent to help defend. Looking up, she could already see the problem. A section of wall had been twisted and bent out of shape, leaving a gaping hole where a section of reinforced steel should have been. Parts of the metal were blackened, steam still hissing off the heated metal: an explosion had done this, not a Brute. She sighed, biting down on her lower lip.

_Yeah, but was it friendly fire, or one of the Reapers?_

She didn't want to know, nor did she fucking care. She was here to help, didn't matter whether or not they needed it.  _Right. Back to it then, you fucks._

She turned back to her students, cracking her knuckles, "I hope you're still ready to whoop some huskified asses, because from the looks of it, shit is getting hairy up there," she turned to Hillary and Nick, motioning to the hole where an asari and an Alliance army trooper had set up a mounted ML-77BML Missile Launcher, a trio of Blue Suns mercs behind them providing suppression fire with their vindicator battle rifles, their armor potmarked with scars, smears, soot and blood, not all of it theirs, thankfully, "You two are going to provide those assholes with some barriers. Keep those husks off of them, and only drop the barriers when they fire. I know you are tired, but keep those damn barriers up: they drop, we might get overwhelmed. So whatever you do...keep your hands up and stay focused. Think of ice cream if it helps."

Hillary and Nick saluted before running over to the group. She turned to Prangley, Rodrigez and George, who had their hands on their lips, looking up at her anticipatingly. She smiled.  _The little shitheads might just be soldiers yet._ "You three, you get to do what you've always wanted. You get to choose what you do: I'll be up there with you. Warps, shockwaves, flares, stasis fields...you name it, you can do it. Don't over stress yourselves though, and don't focus on looking fancy. None of that blinking or teleporting shit because I haven't taught you yet. And whatever you do...avoid the goddamn support columns! We need to be alive to defend the wall! Now get your ass moving!"

All three saluted, trying their best to put a smile on their face and exert confidence, "Yes ma'am!" They immediately rushed for the ladder leading up to the top of the wall, where four marines lay dead on the ground. As they walked up, a Blue Suns soldier was shot in the face, falling onto his back instantly, having been killed immediately. The turian, blue blood dripping down the back of his head onto the ground, wasn't even given time to become a cold corpse as a human soldier rushed over to his body and grabbed his rifle, tossing it to an asari trooper, along with the merc's thermal clip bandolier. Having done so, he raced back to his position, blind firing over his cover at the enemy to make up for his pause in defense.

Ordering the others to their positions, she climbed up the ladder to join Prangley, Rodrigez and George. She could see Nick and Hillary from where she was, the duo dropping their barriers in time for four missiles to spit out of the mounted missile launcher, exploding into a banshee, its barriers dropping before the Blue Suns mercs emptied entire clips into its body. It let out an almighty screech, the sound piercing her eardrums as she winced from the sound, going deaf temporarily. The shriek ceased as a shot pierced its head, causing it to flop back and disintegrate, purple electricity wracking its body as it seemingly dissipated into a pile of black ash and liquid.

"Fucking banshees," the asari responsible cursed, "Can't believe that used to be one of my people."

Banshees, among the many other husks being thrown at them, were some of the latest abominations introduced to the Reaper legions. Made from huskified asari, it was a tall and lithe creature, looking almost like an asari who had been stretched out. It's skin was no longer the blue or purple tinge most asari had, having dulled to a plain grey. Their eyes were as black as the darkness that likely clouded their crumbled mind, their lips and jawline having peeled away to reveal yellowish molar teeth, always bared in a perputual sign of torture. Their head tentacles had been torn from their usual position and raised upwards, the flesh peeled from them and replaced with more cybernetics. Their nails, both on hands and feet, were lengthened and sharpened to the point of being long scythes, black and without detail aside from their razor-sharp edges: she had witnessed many get too close to a banshee, only for them to be picked up and impaled on those long nails, the banshee, with more seemingly more intelligence than the rest, grabbing their head with the other hand to pull it back and force them to look into the banshee's bottomless gaze.

The Reapers obviously didn't care about sexual dimorphism, caring so much about turning the asari into portable charnelhouses than they did about modesty. Obviously, the 'snatch' was stitched shut and covered by cybernetics, almost laughably, while the asari's tits were sagged into their body, smaller than usual and covered in implants. But perhaps the most terrifying feature of the banshee was the abilities it possessed over the other husks: biotics.

Even as she watched, another banshee seemed to come out of nowhere, emerging from the core of the swarm in an almost blinding flash of liquid blue energy, screeching at them like a fearless Viking warrior. It blinked forward again, using the same technique Samara had tired herself out trying to teach Jack, disappearing from its original position only to reappear several meters ahead of its previous standing, everytime punctuated by a burst of dark energy. More biotics racked its body once more as it deflected a rocket with a biotic barrier, shrieking at the mere action before it brought up its other hand, blue energy brimming in its hand as it prepared a flare.

Jack had seen how devastating those could be.

To her appreciation however, the banshee's flare was deflected by Hillary and Nick, who managed to bring up a barrier before the banshee could wreak its havoc. Unfortunately, the flare exploded on their barrier with the same thunder clap noise and detonation, the explosion knocking everyone onto their backs and winding them as their vision was clouded by a brilliant white. The sound rung in their ears, but Jack was always vigilant; she had raised her own barrier to deflect the blast.

The banshee roared again, raising its other hand for another assault, blinking forward once more as it let out a long-winded shriek in an attempt to disorient its foes. Jack wasn't fooled however, turning to her students as she gave them the nod: their kill.

"You guys remember what I taught you," she growled, pointing to the banshee as she deflected biotic attack, this one a mere trio of warps, with an off-hand barrier, "Now use it! What do we use to take down barriers!?"

There was no answer other than actions: something she had taught them herself. Over a dozen warps launched themselves at the banshee, who stumbled back from the assault. Its barrier was immediately downed, crackling and dying as the banshee was left exposed. Her grin massive and undeterred, she signalled for them to launch everything they had at it. So they did, with Prangley launching his best shockwave, Rodrigez a stasis to keep the banshee still, and George launching a singularity to cripple the dozens of husks rushing past the banshee. The singularity picked the husks up from the ground, causing them to spin uselessly in the air as the UGC troops gunned them down. The stasis wrapped around the banshee, freezing it in place as the shockwave slammed into it, causing it to fly back and slam into a jagged piece of concrete, where it was impaled on a piece of rebar. The singularity died, dropping the now dead husks to the ground, while the banshee screeched and screeched, trying to pry itself off its impalement.

Jack prepped a flare, glaring straight at the banshee.  _Shut. The Fuck..._ She launched the flare at the banshee, watching the purple explosion consume the banshee, the concrete it was on, and the forty or so cannibals, marauders and cyborgs that had been trying to work their way past it.  _...Up._

"Argh!" Rodrigez cried out, "Get it off!"

Jack spun around to see seven vampires trying to crawl over the wall. An eighth vampire embedded its claws into a Blue Suns legionnaire's shoulder before tossing him over the wall, screaming. Jack looked over the wall as he landed on his back, only to be swarmed by hundreds of husks as they began to rip him apart, digging their teeth into his skin and tearing away chunks or ripping off limbs, all while the merc screamed and screamed. After a few seconds, he fell silent entirely with a loud crack, his head likely torn off as husks tore at it with their teeth, spitting away the flesh.

"Push 'em back!" one soldier yelled, shooting one vampire in the head as it reeled, roaring in anger, "Don't let them over the barrier!"

The vampire was another horrible abomination developed by the Reaper armada. Ever since they got their hands on Heshtok, the vorcha homeworld, they had been churning out legions upon legions of huskified vorcha, creating yet another new form of foot soldier. Despite their inability to take Heshtok or to pacify the vorcha, they had managed to capture enough to create hordes of new husks: vampires. Adequately nicknamed by the Alliance, vampires were obviously huskified vorcha. Looking like a normal vorcha other than the cybernetics, greyed skin and lack of eyes, vampires had one secret weapon: their teeth. Nobody knows how or what it is, but the Reapers had developed a new type of toxin used only by vampires. Injected into their teeth, the vampires bite their victims once to spread the toxin into their bloodstream, while also sucking out the hemoglobin during the bite. The longer the bite, the more hemoglobin is taken. This means that if the toxin doesn't kill the victim, then lack of oxygenated blood will. The toxin causes rapid clotting of the blood across the body, leading to a long and painful death. Whatever the toxin it was, it couldn't be cured.

Small arms fire was useless against the vorcha husks, and only the heaviest of weapons, such as mattocks or light machine guns or higher, could kill them. However, biotics could do so as well, especially if one was to use reave, as their newly modified skin doesn't seem to react well to it.

She didn't wait long, turning to the vampire currently grappling with Rodrigez and grabbing it with a reave. The vampire screeched as it skin almost immediately atomized, skin smoking and burning up as it reacted badly to the dark energy. It crumbled into ashes on the ground as Rodrigez nodded her thanks to Jack.

"Keep your men back, Sierra 6-7," she told the frantic soldier, turning back to the vorcha scrambling over the barrier, "I'll deal with them."

Without so much as a sweat, she flicked her hand up, her biotics picking up all the vampires at once, and threw them back. They crumbled to the ground, immediately getting back as they rushed back for the wall. She immediately ripped the Revenant LMG out of one Blue Suns merc's grip, put it down and immediately began mowing it into the line of husks, who went down one after the other until there was nothing left of them but shredded corpses. Smiling and exhaling at the same time, she wiped her brow and slammed the machine gun back into the soldier's grip, who looked at her dumbfounded.

"Very impressive, Tango Actual," the sergeant hissed, clearly not as impressed as his sarcastic tone let on, "But there's still more coming. Perhaps you could have-"

Out of nowhere, a vampire leapt onto the sergeant, pinning him to the floor of the wall before immediately tearing into his exposed, unarmoured throat. The sergeant didn't even have time to scream, the sound turned into a strangled set of gurgles and dark, thick red blood spat out of the torn up neck, soaking the ground around him as his hand switched, one trying to rip the vampire off, but only managing to uselessly tap against the beast. The vampire continued to munch happily on his throat until it was done, twisting its head towards them with blood dripping down its chin...

...only for its head to be blown off by the same merc she had taken the LMG from before, the weapon smoking once more from one more vampire kill. A hole was drilled right through where it's nose would be, the dead creature slouching back as it fell dead. Jack nodded to the merc, only to rush to the side of the sergeant. He was already dead, blood still oozing from the bite marks in his torn neck, but all life from his body having left it behind. His omni-tool began to ping, the sound of a human soldier speaking through it, "Sergeant Greers, this is Colonel Porter. I need a sitrep."

She winced as she reached forward and picked up the soldier's limp arm, activating his omni-tool's comms, "This is First Lieutenant Jack of Tango Squad. Sergeant Greers is dead, Colonel."

"Well, you seem to be the highest ranking person aside from me to still be alive in this damn debacle, so I guess I have no choice but to make you my number two," Colonel Porter replied, "Baker-10 has reported that the enemy are rallying around Grid Kilo-X-Ray-2-8-3-0; that's around your location. Would bet all my cards that the enemy are preparing a massive assault on your location. I need a sitrep."

Jack cursed their luck, quickly turning to count the soldiers left. Turning back, she cried out as an explosion sounded off behind her, the group turning to see one soldier getting back to his feet as a minotaur, a huskified elcor, tried to break through the barrier, only to be blown apart by two elcor soldiers with heavy machine guns on their backs. Turning back, she shook her head, "We've got two elcor soldiers reinforcing right now. My students and I have arrived, so that's fourteen biotics in support. I count four Blue Suns mercs remaining, six army troopers and three asari. We're holding, but I can't guarantee it'll stay that way. The Reapers just keep throwing their troops at us. What's the status of the evacuation?"

An audible sigh was heard over the comms before a response became available, "Better and worse. Firebases Uniform, Alfa and Zulu have completed their evacuations and are sending troops to reinforce us, Firebase India and Firebase Golf. As for Firebase Tango..." Silence filled the comms.

"What happened to Firebase Tango?" Jack insisted on asking. Deep down, she already knew the answer.

"It doesn't matter. Reinforcements are on the way," Porter replied, "We just need to hold out. As I've said, Uniform, Alfa and Zulu have completed their evacuations, and while we've heard nothing from India, it's safe to assume they are also close. We've still got many and more to evacuate, but we can't do that if we have routers. Can you hold out with the troops you've got?"

She snorted, shaking her head with annoyance, "We are barely holding out as is!" Gunfire sounded behind her: it was clear the Reapers were renewing their assault, "We're losing men like flies and my students are bordering on complete exhaustion. Whether they overrun this firebase or not is a matter of when, not if! That I can tell you, Colonel!"  _But he's right. If we break formation now, those civilians are doomed. They will all die, every single one. The elcor would be too slow to run if the Reapers breached the walls._

"I don't give a shit if you saw the goddamn future," Porter snarled, "Hold that fucking wall. Hold it to the last man. Throw everything you have if that's what it takes to stop them. Martyr yourselves. I don't care, just make sure that any Reaper that gets through is deader than dead." With that, the omni-tool died out, its holographic projection evaporating. He had cut the line.

_What an asshole._

She stood up, turning to the group behind her. To their credit, Rodrigez, Prangley and George hadn't stopped to see what she was doing, using their biotics, despite their fatigue, to fight back every single husk that ran at them. Among their ranks, husks of every type seemed to be rushing about, furious and hungry looking. Two cyborgs, the huskified drell, ran forward on their mechanical legs, one red oculus seeking out their targets as the deadly Reaper weapon, the Blackstar, folded back on their arms. The Blackstar was essentially a black hole gun and, when fired, it created a vortex of dark energy that sucked everything within the vicinity into it, including matter. It apparently also had an alternate fire mode where it could be used to obliterate anything within its circumfrance. The Blackstar was only used by cyborgs, who possessed powerful kinetic barriers, but were slow and cumbersome. The weapon was fused as part of their left arm, and even now, Jack watched as it peeled back, ready to fire, only for Jack to pick one up and slam it back into the ground. With a snarl, she swiped her hands off to both sides, tearing the cyborg in two and throwing both pieces off on different angles. The second cyborg was blown apart by the combined firepower of machine guns and rockets, meaty fragments landing near Jack, while bits of black ichor slapped her right cheek.

A roar, much like a warhorn from medieval times, sounded: an unforgettable sound. She turned to watch a titanic husk, as big as a brute, lumber forward on its huge, armoured legs, a massive, portable thanix cannon on its back, its red glow all encompassing. Energy crackled and burst as it slid along the large rod, the weapon audibly charging up. Twin machine guns, embedded within the creature's mouth, tore apart the head of one asari, her face exploding like a ripe melon, spilling purple blood everywhere. Rodrigez cried out as some of the asari's blood got in her eyes, causing a biotic warp to fly off to the side, knocking an archer, a huskified salarian that served as the Reaper sharpshooter, off its feet, where it was trampled upon by stampeding husks and vampires, all of them eager to get a taste of organic flesh. And behind them, even more.

The minotaur seemed to look directly at her.

Husks, cannibals, marauders, banshees, brutes, archers, vampires, cyborgs, sirius', berserkers, cercopes...a non-stop flood of them rushed to greet the soldiers, and all they could do is stand in horror and awe at what they were seeing.

A literal  _tidal wave_ of husks rushing towards  _them._

It was almost as if every type of husk had come to the party. Standard husks, dashing forward, moaning eerily, while abominations, their explosive cousins, dashed alongside them, glowing bright orange and looking for enemies to consume in their fiery rage. Cannibals, the waddling huskified batarians, the shotgun-like cannon fused into their arm seeking out targets. Marauders, the former turians lining up shots with their stolen phaeston assault rifles while acting as squad leaders. Banshees, six of them, moving forward in terrifying tandem, biotic barriers shielding them from all punishment. Brutes, the twisted visage of a turian fused with two krogan, rushing forward on seemingly muscular arms, crushing a destroyed skycar under its hulk as they stalked forward. Archers, their sniper rifles finding targets and taking them out with insane precision. Vampires, ready to inject death into their victims' bloodstream, sprinting towards them. Cyborgs, lumbering with their blackstars. Sirius', the huskified varren raging as they dashed forth with ridiculous strength and power. Berserkers, the volus-hanar hybrids desperate to find a target to rip apart with its tentacles or blow away with a heavy rocket from its underbelly cannon. Cercopes, the seemingly innocent huskified pyjaks that were turned into a quick and devastating suicide bombers.

And those were just the basic foot soldiers.

A harvester landed behind the indomitable husk army, great wings spreading out as it let out a harsh scream that echoed across the nearly empty streets of Sereunn-Malvuon. It was joined by four praetorians, eyes glowing bright purple with intent. Scions, giant two-legged tanks, walked forward, cannons preparing to unleash an arsenal of biotic projectiles.

Seeing what Jack saw, she knew they couldn't possibly hold their position.

_It...it can't be done..._

The minotaur's warhorn-like roar sounded again, mixed with the cacophonous sound of banshees shrieking, a harvester screaming, husks moaning and vampires screeching. The sound was deafening, just as much as it was terrifying.

_Oh fuck!_

She turned just in time to watch the red glow of the minotaur's thanix cannon intensify, heating up with intense heat. Jack saw where it was aiming, she knew nothing could be done to stop it. They were out of rockets. The elcor couldn't correct their aim fast enough. No matter what they would try to do, the minotaur would still fire.

So she made a decision.

She had to act quickly. Crying out, she biotically grabbed George, Rodrigez and Prangley and tossed them off the wall and onto the ground. They cried out, shocked by the action, the sound getting louder as the pain of hitting solid concrete hit them. Not waiting any longer, she screamed at her kids to clear the wall before jumping off herself, falling into a roll. She landed, coughing up soot as she accidentally inhaled it in her dash to recover her breath, eyes watering as it stung her eyes. She turned to George, Prangley and Rodrigez, checking to see they were alright. They were.

It was all she got time to do.

There was screams as the minotaur's cannon fired, a bright red lance of power obliterated the wall where they had once stood. The four army troopers and the asari soldier standing there were disintegrated immediately, while the troopers around them suffered third degree burns to the face from how close they were to the beam, their screaming drowned out by the war cry of the husks. The two elcor soldiers sent to help them were lying on the front legs, shaking their heads to recover from the blast. The soldiers covering the hole from before were now out in the open, the smaller hole joined by the massive one in the wall. They shook themselves, moving to stand up, while the asari lay still, her head having been crushed by a piece of concrete, the remains of her skull lying infront of her. Aside from her students, noone survived without an injury of some sort. The most they got was a few bruises.

Dust and smoke poured out from the destroyed wall, the jagged edges of the newly formed entrance blackened by the thanix shot. Jack, before she could order her students to set up barriers, had to watch as the two surviving army troopers defending the smaller hole were gunned down, both falling ontop of each other as three cannibals moved inside...

...followed by many more.

The troopers that were burnt by the flames were knocked onto the ground as their section of the wall was knocked down entirely, the steel supports weakened enough for the wall to fall backwards when the harvester launched itself into it. One trooper was crushed beneath the wall, while the harvesters leaned down and wrapped its mouth around the second trooper's upper torso, tearing it off in one bite before throwing it aside, blood trailing the air as the upper torso of the soldier landed elsewhere. Behind it, multiple brutes, vampires crambling on their backs, rushed through the extra hole made by the harvester, who's head looked on, looking proud of its accomplishment.

The two elcor soldiers never stood a chance. A praetorian fired its beams into one, gutting it with a single shot. Hot, stinky intestines piled out of the elcor's open stomach, the sound the creature made almost pitiful, coming off as a whine of agony. The praetorian proceeded to descend upon it, hooking its arms under the elcor and lifting it into the air, before crushing its entire body inbetween the metal appendages and dropping it to the ground, dead.

The second elcor whined in terror at the sight of his friend being gutted, and desperately fired at the dozen or so berserkers and sirius' rushing towards it. It made a pretty good dent in them, but failed to account for the cercopes rushing for him. Jack opened her mouth to shout, but it was too late: the cercopes closed the gap and exploded, the explosion consuming the elcor. When the initial flash cleared, the charred remains of a dead elcor told her he didn't make it.

Her omni-tool pinged and she quickly opened it. Colonel Porter shouted through it, sounding panicked, "We just registered a breach at the west wing. What the fuck happened!?"

Jack growled back, motioning for her students to run as the Reaper army converged on them, "A minotaur blew a hole in the wall! We've got husks pouring through! There's nothing we can do, there's too many of them!"

Porter was not pleased, "What did I say abou-"

"Fuck your martyrdom! The wall would have fallen even if we had died! We need reinforcements, now!" Jack continued to run as she yelled, turning to see eighteen cannibals bringing their weapons to bear. Gnashing her teeth, she closed her eyes and clenched her fist, channeling all her biotics into that one fist. After a few seconds, the fist felt entirely numb, and her eyes shot open, the 'psychotic biotic' letting out an almighty roar as she brought up her arm in a swing motion, and slammed it back down.

The ability she used was one she had learnt from a human soldier. Named 'Smash', the ability allowed her to form a dark energy 'whip' by channeling energy into one area, and then willing the energy to stretch out. Bringing it down onto the ground, the whip slapped into the concrete ground, a blast of dark energy exploding outward from the impact area. Five of the cannibals were caught directly under the whip, crushed underneath it and flattened into the ground, the concrete cracking under the force. The rest of the cannibals were thrown aside, while the last couple left unaffected stumbled, trying to regain their footing. Still frowning and teeth clenched tightly, she raised her M-25 Hornet SMG and took aim. She had taken the weapon from a dead Cerberus assault trooper during the Cerberus attack on the Citadel, and had kept it ever since. Using her modified warp ammo, which was the usual ammunition mixed with dark energy, and tapped the trigger twice as she put both cannibals down, the area around their bodies crackling and warping from the dark energy-tipped rounds. They both collapsed, wreathing as the purple fire wracked their forms, disintegrating them slowly until they were little but ash.

But the horde was undeterred, and they just  _kept coming_.

A berserker leapt at her, only to be knocked aside by a biotic throw, sending the creature shooting into a support pillar, the thud of its impact, followed by the crack of numerous bones breaking, signalled the creature's death, causing it to crash to the ground limp. Turning, she smiled as she saw Rodrigez lowering his hand, traces of the biotic ability still lingering from his fingertips.

They all watched as the minotaur stomped through the wall, loud and untempered. It roared with its warhorn-like voice, thanix cannon swaying with its enormous hulk as it moved from side to side to smash through the wall. Around it, legions upon legions of the cybernetic undead charged from every orifice, scrambling and falling over each other to get into the Firebase.

To her surprise, she watched a bright flash suddenly struck the side of the hulking walker, the minotaur swaying sideways with a moan from the impact, smoking as parts of its wiring and cybernetics were blown away. They all watched as a M35 Mako rolled into the vicinity, rolling on all six wheels, its machine gun tearing apart the dozens of husks, vampires and marauders infront of it, even running into a sirius, crushing it underneath the tank's hulk. Before the praetorian could descend upon it, the organic gunship was ripped to shreds by dozens of missiles, pieces of it flying in every direction as the explosions continued to wrack the air. An M34 Crocodile slowly rolled into the vicinity behind the lone Mako, the twin missile launchers attached to its central turret rotating to face the harvester, who was now turning to deal with the approaching Alliance vehicles. At least a dozen asari soldiers ran forwards, armed with an assortment of weapons from missile launchers to heavy rifles.

"I've sent reinforcements to plug that hole!" Porter shouted through the comms, "But that's all we have! Do not let them through, no matter what you do!"

Before she could respond, the harvester fired the twin-cannons in its mouth at the Mako, the dual blasts of the alternating heavy blasters rupturing the kinetic barriers of the Mako and piercing its armor. It continued to fire even as the Mako's turret fired at it with its machine gun. Eventually, the shots pierced the tank's armor, sparking a fire within the vehicle. One more shot and the Mako exploded in a massive fireball, the wreckage shooting up into the air, only to crash ontop of the Crocodile. The vehicle stopped in its tracks and before it could reverse, the minotaur fired its thanix cannon again, the shot landing directly ontop of the MBT, destroying it instantly.

The asari squad halted its approach, seeing their armoured support wiped out. A trio of praetorians descended upon them, while the minotaur began to limp forwards, seemingly ignoring the injury on its side.

"Negative on that, Colonel," Jack responded, motioning her students to start running again as the Reaper army's advance became unstoppable, now thoroughly and well within the firebase, "Your reinforcements can't hold them! They're swarming through the wall, hundreds of them! Possibly thousands!"

There was no response on the line as they ran to the back of the atrium, sprinting past crates upon crates of ammo stores, most of them opened up and half empty. Jack stopped only once to send a biotic shockwave flying into a group of cercopes on their tail, sending them flying back into a scion that had been following them, raising her SMG to shoot one of them. The chain reaction of explosions enveloped the scion, but she didn't remain behind to see if it was actually dead, continuing to run forward. Somehow, a husk had run ahead of her and had turned to leap at her, but she simply bashed it aside with her shoulder, firing a burst directly into its skull before continuing to run.

It wasn't long before they reached the remainder of the elcor civilians: there were still hundreds left, all of them terrified as they watched a horde of Reaper troops flood into the base. Jack looked at her students, seeing the look in their expressions: fear and melancholy. With the Reapers now firmly within the firebase's perimeter, they were able to outflank the defenders quite easily. One by one, sections of the wall fell to the attackers, Alliance, asari and Blue Suns mercs torn apart and killed mercilessly as they were overwhelmed. The asari squad, their supposed reinforcements, were slowly retreating while firing into the horde, but it wasn't long before a trio of brutes charged them, knocking them around like rag dolls.

Nick turned to her, scared but remaining strong, just as she had taught him, "We've got to defend this area! These civilians won't stand a chance if we don't hold them off! They can't run and there's nobody left to help!"

"We stay here, we die!" Prangley spat, doing so as he let out a trio of warps into the oncoming slaughterhouse, doing little to stem the tide. Jack supplemented this with a few shockwaves of her own before turning back to Nick, shaking her head.

"Prangley's right, there's no saving these civilians!" Jack stated, waving to them, "These are elcor! If we can't hold the wall, we certainly won't be able to protect them! I'm sorry to say it, but I don't see any other way, Nick!"

Hillary was quick to come to Nick's defense, "But these people...they're scared! Terrified! How many children are among them!? We can't just leave them to die! Not to them! Those husks will tear them apart! There has to be another way!"

Nick nodded, pointing to the civilians behind them, "We swore to protect and serve, ma'am! How can we do that by running away!?"

Jack stalked up to him, off-handedly swatting aside a husk with a biotic push. Her face landed inches from Nick's face. To his credit, he only seemed to wince for a split second before repositioning himself, glaring back at her, "And what would you have us do, Nick? Fight pointlessly for a few minutes, have all of us die, and then the civilians die anyway? You want to die a hero? Is that it?"

Nick shrugged aggressively, waving his hand dismissively, "We can at least try something! Standing here and arguing what solve anything!"

"On that much we agree," Prangley replied dryly, ducking as a shot from a cannibal whizzed past his head. Another student came to his aid, sending a flurry of warps into the husk, downing it within seconds, only for it to be replaced by ten more. And then, without warning...

"Shit!" Rodrigez exclaimed, her voice just managing to carry over the noise of the room, "Everybody, we've got trouble!"

Jack spun on the spot to see more than one harvester emerge. One harvester landed ahead of the other husks, quickly joined two more, then another six. Soon, their entire view of the former wall and the slaughter of the defenders was cut off by nine harvesters, all of them glaring directly at the group. Behind them, the minotaur from before was making its slow approach, dozens of praetorians joining their flanks, purple eyes beaming with fury. Among them, a massive shield of crackling orange energy projected itself around them, absorbing the stray warps her students had set their way. She wasn't able to see what was projecting it, but she'd remember that eery hum, no matter.

A chimera.

It was no use. The husks had finished the slaughter of the defenders and now turned their attention fully to Jack and her students. The elcor civilians behind them turned and began to 'run' as fast as possible, the slow beasts unable to move a meter without it taking several more seconds than necessary. Jack was quickly becoming more and more sure of the futility of this battle: there was nowhere left to run but south, towards Firebase Golf.

_Perhaps they're doing better than we are...we hope..._

"Right. That decides it," Jack declared, turning to her students, "We're retreating. Hopefully we can reach Firebase Golf and they're doing better than Whiskey is. We hold here and we're all dead, including the civilians!" she turned to her pupils, pointing at Hillary, "Hillary, you've got the best barriers out of your lot! Put up a barrier, and prepare for a fighting retreat to the-"

Nobody saw it coming. Nobody pointed it out. It just happened. Brilliant flashes, followed by the triumphant roars of their enemies. By the time her blurry vision cleared, she was lying with her cheek pressed against the dirty floor, a pair of hands yanking at her arm and dragging her across the ground. Looking, she could see indigo blood drenching the floor as dozens upon dozens of elcor corpses littered the ground, either shredded entirely or simply lying on the ground. Some survived the initial blasts, whatever they were, but were not long for the world: toppled over and unable to stand up. Moans could be heard, but went unanswered.

She tapped the arm pulling her to let them know she was alright and they let go, allowing her to stand up and dust herself off; her skin was covered in dried blood and soot, tainting her otherwise plain complexion. She saw it was Prangley who had dragged her away, her Hornet SMG in his grip, firing away at the enemy behind them. He tossed it back to her, turning back to take aim when she froze in place.

She saw now what the Reaper force had done. The harvesters, along with a frontline of berserkers and cyborgs, had unleashed a flurry of attacks directly aimed at the civilians. They had intended to miss her students: they wanted to cause maximum damage at extreme cost. She scowled at the true evil of the Reapers; how little they cared for innocent lives, demonstrating once more that they were little more than cold, ruthless machines hellbent on genocide, even if it meant slaughtering hundreds of innocent people.

_All they see is hundreds of potential minotaurs they can pump out of their conversion facilities._

None of the civilians had survived. The few that had, were lying on their sides, with husks converging to finish them off. They couldn't be saved, and nothing could be done for them. Jack knew that. In her practical mind, she knew further fighting would be pointless and stupid. But the other side of her mind showed her an army of ruthless automatons, who used to be people, that needed to be destroyed in return for those they massacred.

Prangley tapped her shoulder, trying to get her attention, clearly worried as he watched his teacher's body begin to glow a brilliant blue. The color intensified, growing and growing, to the point where Jack looked like she was on liquid  _fire_. The Reaper forces continued to approach, firing at them while Hillary desperately maintained a barrier to keep them back. The chimera led the advance, the berserkers behind her, carrying cercopes on their backs, while a line of brutes moved behind them, led by the rest of the army. They began to rush towards them, closing the gap...

"Ma'am, we need to leave!" Prangley shouted, "They're coming!" His voice grew more panicked, and she could see the other students, all of who had survived albeit with a few scrapes and burns, looked just as terrified as he did, knowing that a literal horde was breathing down their necks.

But she only saw red. Blood red, hatred coursing through her. It was a feeling she remembered, but one she had buried deep inside her ever since the attack on the Collector Base. A side of her she never wanted to come back, but needed.

Subject Zero's body was freezing cold as the biotics ravaged her body, and muttered a single word.

"No."

In a flash, her arms rose up, balls of bright light encasing her fists. She didn't raise a barrier. She didn't prepare a flare. None of that. Instead, liquid blue energy seemed to crawl up the walls and pillars and concrete floor, slowly wrapping itself around the structure of the atrium like a raging bushfire. Slipping and sliding, rushing up and shooting down, biotic energy encased the building as a bedspread wrapped around a mattress: tight and secure. Just as Jack needed it.

Unable to breathe any longer, every muscle tightened in her body as she let out a roar that echoed across the streets, swinging her arms downward in a violent thrust. Her students watched in shock and awe as the concrete and steel of the atrium cracked, buckled and groaned before snapping and exploding. From bottom down, the entire atrium collapsed upon itself, a shower of grey concrete and ruptured metal raining down like a hellstorm. The Reaper army never once halted its advance, ignoring the building's dissolution in return for reaching their target. Regardless, Jack continued to roar with anger as the remainder of the building finished its destruction, pieces of building and rubble crushing the army underneath. The chimera's shield did nothing to stop the rubble, which came down and crushed the entire army; chimera, husks, cannibals, marauders, praetorians, harvesters, scions, berserkers, archers...all of them were buried in the sheer mass of man-made materials, brought down on them by a vicious god.

Or in her case, a ruthless goddess.

A cascade of dust blew up in their faces from the expulsion of air due to the building's collapse, washing over them like a tidal wave. The students coughed and sputtered, while Jack lowered her arms, feeling the red recede from her vision as Subject Zero receded with it, Jack returning to the present as she lowered her biotics. When the dust began to settle, they could see the atrium of the building had completedly fallen in on itself, and no remnant of the Reaper army inside remained. Already, the sound of more ahead could be heard, but those that had flooded the base and murdered the defenders...all of them were now dead.

"Teach," came the hesitant voice of Nick. She turned towards her students, who looked at her with some hesitance. Nick continued, licking his lips, "What was that?"

She sighed, grabbing Nick's shoulder and squeezing it gently, "A hatred I've tried to keep buried for a while, Nick. That shit...it doesn't matter," she exhaled, motioning to a group of six parked M31 Whitecheek light tanks, the vehicles abandoned and now unmanned. She motioned to them, her arm feeling weak from having exerted so much force, "We need to get to Firebase Golf, see what the situation is. The Reaper forces here are dead, but there are thousands more out there. We have to help complete this evacuation...no matter how futile it may seem."

She pushed past Nick, rushing towards the nearest Whitecheek, listening as her students quickly followed behind her. No matter what happened at Firebase Whiskey, the evacuation effort was not a complete loss. She radioed ahead to let Porter know Whiskey had fallen and not to send any more evac shuttles there, and then got into the Whitecheek, driving down the street towards Golf with several more students in the back with her. The rest of her students followed, not far behind.

And so the war continued.

**{Loading...}**

_July 31, 2186_

_1929 hours._

_Lower Bar, Purgatory Club, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko._

He took another sip of his crown lager as he felt a gentle set of three fingers tap his shoulder. Escorting the glass back down to the tabletop, he turned to the person who wanted his attention so badly.

He smiled warmly at Tali, the quarian raising an eyebrow at him. Her voice, despite being just a bare whisper, was audible enough to be heard over the constant, vibrant beat of the club's music booming across the premises, "How many of those have you had exactly?"

His smile did not lessen, and he turned back to the glass infront of him as he swirled the liquid in the glass around. Despite all the new alcohols the galaxy had introduced to humanity, Marcus still found himself sharing a special attachment to a good old crown lager, which had stood the test of time ever since its introduction in 1919. The drink had been a favourite of his father, or so his mum had told him, and his curiosity to try it out eventually lead to him loving it. Sure, he was no huge fan of alcohol, but when it came to crown lager, there was no other he'd rather have. Nothing like a good 'ol beer.

He turned back to his wife, shrugging, "Just five. This is my sixth. Remember, my cybernetis filter out a lot of the alcohol: it makes me twice the amount to get drunk as it would for most people."

Tali rolled her eyes, turning back to her own glass of quarian wine, her 'emergency induction port' lying in the glass, of which was half full of sterilized wine. Quarian wine had been introduced during the days of the Greater Quarian Republic, and had remained in circulation around the galaxy well after the quarians themselves stopped making it. Now turians and batarians made large quantities of it, the low alcohol content being appealing to many members of the dextro races, "That's the story you always tell me. That's still a lot of drinks."

"I wouldn't tell it so much if it weren't true," Marcus argued, turning back to his own and taking another sip. The bitter taste of it mixed with the liquid warmth of the drink was what gave it its kick: it wasn't the best tasting thing ever, but for some reason it still appealed to him, "Besides, I have no intention of getting drunk. We might be here for a bit, but we could be redeployed at any moment. Most of the galaxy has joined the UGC now, so it's not like we've got any special assignments. It looks like we might just be deployed like the regulars."

"I reckon we should be looking for this catalyst," piped Kaidan, Marcus turning to the marine. He sat on the opposite side of their small table, dressed in nothing but his standard Alliance marine uniform, hair as well groomed and cut as it always was, a slight frown on his features, "It's almost like the rest of the UGC has forgotten that we need whatever the hell the catalyst is to finish the Crucible. Without it, we might be shooting the blind."

Garrus, who sat next to the career soldier, shook his head, his untouched glass right infront of him, still full of turian brandy, "That's the thing, Kaidan. We have no idea what the catalyst is or what it does or why the Crucible needs it. It could just as well be the flashlight or an entertainment system. Or, knowing the protheans, it was probably just dominance porn."

"Well, I'm suddenly not very thirsty," Liara declared, pushing away her own glass of purple Thessian wine, the asari's features expressing distaste at the turian's wording, "Thank you, Garrus."

"No problem," the turian winked, laughing out loud as the asari chuckled herself, slapping him on the arm, Garrus pretending to be in pain as he rubbed the 'sore' area.

Kaidan shrugged nonetheless, taking another chip and plucking it into his mouth, chewing soundly as he responded, "Regardless, I would have thought an investigation would be in hand. We should at least try and find it. There's simply too many warnings written on the wall to ignore. It'd be foolish to take this anything less than seriously."

He nodded to the sentinel's point, finishing off his glass with a final gulp, deciding to leave it at that in terms of alcohol, reaching over to grab himself a chip, the group having bought two bowls of it to share around: one dextro and one levo, "I completely agree, Kaidan. I'm just saying we should be ready for the possibility of redeployment. We are technically a task force, after all. That makes us a military asset."

"Just as long as they don't try to seperate us," Tali adamantly added, having removed the straw from her mask's auditory port after having a sip of her drink to speak, "We're a team, and that means we stick together. I'm here to follow you, Mark, not some random commander I don't know. We've been together since the beginning, and its my belief it should stay that way. It makes no sense to seperate us, anyway. We've always gotten the job done."

Kaidan laughed, "Yeah, should the UGC get any ideas, point them to our track record. Saren. The Collectors. The Shadow Broker. Curing the genophage. Saving the Citadel twice. Liberating Rannoch. Peace between the quarians and the geth," he motioned to Liara, "Hell, it was Liara who found out about the Crucible to begin with. All the shit we've done together, reassigning us to different areas would be idiotic. They should know we work well as one, not divided. We're pretty much their best field unit."

"A psychotic N7 operative, shotgun-totting engineer, the Shadow Broker, a sentinel and a handsome sharpshooter who beat said psychotic N7 operative in a sniping contest, along with the rest of our team?" Garrus replied dryly, mandibles moving into a smirk, "Oh, we can't be bested. If they send us somewhere, then we can't possibly settle for anything less than suicidal. Maybe they'll make us fight Harbinger in hand-to-hand next, or maybe unleash Shepard's dancing upon them."

Kaidan guffawed, slamming a hand down on the table in his amusement, "That'd be a sight! A punishment worse than death!"

"You guys are awful," Liara added, looking sad as she looked at Marcus. That sad look transformed into a grin, "His dancing is mediocre, but servicable. Hardly a superweapon."

"Shepard must be the catalyst," Garrus continued, leaning back in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, not to mention overly smug, "The secret component for the Crucible has been found."

He looked at the turian, thoroughly unimpressed, but just managed to hold back a grin himself, "I've yet to see you dance, Vakarian. No Shepard without Vakarian, remember?"

"Well, I have dignity, that's why," the turian replied casually, "I know my dancing is bad and keep it to myself. You  _have_ no shame, Marcus."

"You have about as much dignity as a vorcha stripper, Vakarian," Marcus snapped back, raising an eyebrow in anticipation of what the turian would say.

The turian's mandibles widened in disgust, eyes narrowing, "Ewww...why did you have to put that image in my head? That's a horrid picture."

"Half the point, Garrus," he replied with a smirk, "The other half was the truth. You truly have no dignity."

"Then I guess we're one and even," Garrus gave up, holding his hands up in mock defeat with a clear shrug, "No Shepard without Vakarian."

He held up his glass, smirk turning into a simple smile, "So...let's drink to that. No dignity. No shame. A human and a turian, nothing but weapons, dancing without shame, killing without dignity."

The turian sighed as he picked up his own glass, tapping it against Marcus' own with a clang, "That's certainly worth a drink...I guess?" Leaving no time to further question it, he swigs the alcohol, scowling as he skulked most of it in one gulp. Marcus did the same with the rest of his beer, tapping it down as he clapped his lips with an irritated frown, the bitterness overwhelming his tastebuds.  _Oh...God...Crown Lager is awful when you skulk it..._

"While we're on the topic of toasts," Kaidan suddenly spoke up, suddenly looking pensive as he raised his own glass. Kaidan looked up between them, Marcus and Garrus, along with Liara and Tali, looking towards the human with raised eyebrows, intrigued by what exactly the marine was proposing.

"I'd like to propose a toast to the fallen," Kaidan stated, looking blankly at his glass, before turning towards Marcus, "Specifically, a loss we suffered on Virmire. One of our own."

Realizing who he spoke of, the group fell silent, nodding without word. Ashley Williams, a tough and seemingly incorruptible marine pushing herself forward with a stubborn sense of duty, an eccentric sense of humour and a particular set of skills, was no longer with them and hadn't been for three years. She gave her life on Virmire to destroy Saren's base, staying behind to make sure the bomb went off. Back then, she had just reconciled with Garrus after a misunderstanding, and strenghtened her sisterhood with Tali. Her loss was the crew's loss. Her death drove them to victory, and she remains a martyr to their cause. Ashley Williams symbolized what they fought for, as well as their main reason to keep fighting. Of the original six, she was the only one, aside from Wrex, not presently at this table.

_I wish we could have reconciled before you died, Ash. You were a fine marine. An invaluable soldier._

He smiled, holding up his hand for a refill. The bartender noticed him, emerging from the bar with a bottle of Crown Lager. He turned back to the group, holding up his presently still-empty glass, "She would have loved this fight. She would have been in her element."

Liara chuckled as Marcus' glass was steadily refiled, "I remember her first reaction to me coming aboard. She didn't trust me, and I understood why. She hated me, I could tell. But I could see her warming up to me towards the end. I don't know whether to thank you for that or whether I should be thanking her for her flexibility. She was...different from the rest. Most humans I've met have a set disposition. They're either racist or kind: they don't usually change. Ash changed. I wouldn't call her racist or hateful...she was distrustful. But I think she realized I wasn't a threat and we developed something...like friendship. Nothing like what she had with Tali...but it was a friendship. I think I speak for the rest of us when I say I miss her dearly."

"I guess I could have loved her, if I was given more time," Kaidan sighed, lowering his glass slightly and looking aimlessly at it, "Yet again, I might never have found Rahna. Perhaps Ash and I could have been something more...I guess I'll never find out, but for what it's worth, I cared for her. She was a badass soldier with a strong-willed mindset. The brass shat all over her, but her first instinct wasn't to take a bath: it was to take that shit and fling it back. The brass tried to demoralize her and make her want to quit, but she didn't. And now she's their reluctant war hero. She gave her life for the galaxy, even though said galaxy had tried to forget her. I don't think I've met a marine more determined to be a soldier before her. I don't think I'll ever see the likes of her again. She was more than a friend to me; she was the lover that could have been, but never was. But I'm going to remember her for the ass she kicked, and the promotion she should have earned six times over."

Garrus spoke next, straightening himself, "I...don't know what to say about her. I'll come out and say I never really liked her to begin with. I thought she was arrogant, hateful...she never trusted me with anything. Constantly questioned everything I did, and I think she even talked to Pressly behind my back. I remember one argument in the cargo bay where I 'called her out on her bullshit', and she scrambled to justify herself. I learnt about her grandfather having been the one who surrendered the Shanxi garrison in the First Contact War. How her family was blacklisted throughout the entire military. If the name 'Williams' so much as sprouted up in a database, the brass would make sure they would never rank high enough to command a squad, let alone themselves. Reminded me an awful lot of the turian military," he chuckled, shaking his head, "I told her about a similar situation we had in the Hierarchy. Exact same war, actually. Raeli Septimus was the Didact of the Navy and the commander of the Shanxi occupation. He...was the one defeated at the Liberation of Shanxi. Afterwards, the turians quietly dismissed him and replaced him with Coronati. Septimus said he respected General Williams; that he admired human tenacity in totality, in fact."

Marcus nodded, eager to know what Ashley had said to that.  _I don't remember her ever bringing that up_  "So what did she say?"

Garrus shrugged, mandibles remaining still for a moment, "She didn't say anything. She just...nodded. I didn't even know if what I'd said had an impact until she came and apologized to me. It was right after the mission at Peak 15, actually. I think a combination of what I'd said, Tali's predicament fighting the geth and Liara losing her mother struck a cord with her. She told me how ignorant she'd been, and that ever since her father got fed up with his lack of progress in the military, she'd had a bitter hatred for aliens. She told me...she said her father didn't like it. Constantly told her that aliens weren't to blame for her grandfather's failure, but rather the Alliance brass for treating him like a war criminal when he should have been regarded as a war hero. Any man who puts victory over an enemy after the lives of his men is worthy of respect. General Williams surrendered not of cowardice, but out of concern of his men, who he didn't want to die pointlessly. He made a wise tactical decision. I think Ash only realized that after I told her about Septimus. I told her that...perhaps my people had a share of the blame."

Liara looked surprised by that, "Truly?"

"Of course we did," he scoffed, looking at the asari incredulously, "The humans had no idea we'd locked that relay off for a reason. We should have scolded them, not declared war. We tried justify it with Council intergalactic law, but the humans didn't even know we existed, let alone what our laws prohibited. We acted recklessly. I guess it's just as well you humans soon forgot about us and started focusing on your more immediate neighbours."

Marcus rolled his eyes, aware of what the turian meant.  _Fucking batarians._

Garrus finally brought his recollection to a resolution, exhaling heavily with some sadness, "I don't know what to call what we had after that conversation. Mutual respect? I know we had somekind of an understanding. No more arguments, for starters. Whenever she spotted me doing something or performing maintenance on the Mako, her suggestions were far and few, and when she did give them, they weren't aggressive or overbearing. I didn't tease her anymore or insult her. We didn't exchange punches over lunch break; verbal or physical. In the end, on Virmire, she even shared her concerns of the mission with me.  _With me_. Can you imagine that? I think I was her most hated alien on the ship before then, and on Virmire, she was exchanging thoughts with me...like she was comfortable with it. I think only then did I respect her. I made sure to tell my father about her sacrifice on Virmire. I think...I think he was impressed."

The turian gripped his glass uneasily, Marcus noticing his breathing had become uneasy. Finally, he held up his glass and if turians could shed tears, Marcus was sure he would have saw one dripping down his cheek, "I don't care what you humans believe in terms of an afterlife. Wherever she ascended to, may the Spirits provide her plenty of food and drink. She's earned this turian's respect."

The group turned to Tali, who was still looking at the table, tapping her fingers idly on the top as she thought of something to say. They quietly waited, understanding the need for thought. A few moments passed, the quarian's eyes looking across the tabletop as she likely went through a myriad of thoughts. Finally, she looked up, looking settled, hands clasped ontop of the table, around her glass, looking up at them.

"Ash was...special. We had a sort of sisterhood, much like what me and Kasumi have now, but far less girly and more...militaristic. Our sisterhood was forged through battle. Like the rest of you, she didn't like me at first. Having the ideology she followed, she was inevitably going to fall victim to quarian stereotypes about thievery. Apparently I was a threat to security...an unacceptable flight risk. She didn't like the idea of me having Mark's back at any point, and she often used me as a punching bag for her grievances for the geth," she frowned, shifting in her seat, "Then, one day, that suddenly stopped. I can't explain why because she never explained what changed her mind. But one day, Pressly was asking what I was on my omni-tool for, and she told him to back off. And before I knew it...she was telling me about how one of her sisters, Sarah, beat up her high school boyfriend for being too pushy. I never asked why...I was just grateful she wasn't treating me like a criminal anymore. Once I got to know her...I didn't even want to remember that she once accused me of being the reason Eden Prime was attacked and her squad died."

Kaidan smiled, but remained silent. They all did, just listening. Soon, Tali continued, seeming much happier in her recollection, "There wasn't a single hiccup since then. She even reinforced some of Mark's hand-to-hand training that he was teaching me at the time with some of her own methods, some of which I still use. I learnt the 'throat jab' from her."

Marcus smirked, "I was wondering about that. Thought you'd learnt it from another source. Now I know."

"It's extremely effective," Tali giggled, turning back to continue, "She even spectated me and Wrex when he was teaching me some shotgun tricks. And, in return, I showed her some hacking techniques, but I think she forgot most of them as quickly as I taught her!" she laughed again, shaking her head as she fumbled at her glass with a single finger, "Ash was...special. Like I said, she was the first person I'd met that went from hating me to considering me a sister...and I in return. I've lost count of the amount of times she saved me in combat, whether it be taking out a geth trying to flank me, giving me extra support while I hacked something or was there for me when Mark was unable to. She...she was even the first person I told when it became to my feelings for Mark."

He turned to the quarian, eyebrow raised, the quarian immediately noticing his look and nodding. He exhaled deeply, surprised by the revelation, "Well, I had no idea Ash knew."

"I told her to keep it a secret," Tali elaborated, "I told her I wasn't sure whether I should act on it, but Ashley was insistent I did so. I thought she would have objected, but she told me my observations were wrong and that she had no interest in you, only in Kaidan. She even told me that if Mark broke my heart, she would kick 'the skipper's ass myself and then recite poetry to his bullet-ridden corpse.'"

Liara laughed, the asari rubbing her eyes of the water forming in them, "That sounds like something the Gunnery Chief would say."

"Glad I didn't break your heart then," Marcus declared, grinning himself at the memory.  _Ashley would definitely give me a hard time in terms of a fight, I'm sure. She was N7 material._

"As am I," the quarian responded with a reminiscent tone, gently picking up her glass. She turned to Marcus, smiling behind her mask, "What about you, Mark? Any fond memories of Ash you'd like to share?"

He nodded slowly, before opening his mouth to speak, having recollected something dear to his memory, "There is one. Ash and I...we were celebrating Armistice Day one time on the ship."

Kaidan frowned at that, "Armistice Day is on the 29th of December. We fought Saren in June through to July."

"We knew that," Marcus replied, smirking, "Ash was adamant about waiting till the 29th to celebrate it with the rest of the Alliance. Me? I celebrate it whenever I can and for different reasons. Largely because I personally believe Armistice Day is what brought humanity out of our centralized scope to help us acknowledge a much larger world than our own. I think that's special, and if I choose to do that more than just the 29th of every year than so be it. I think Ash realized that, and she joined me. We shared some drinks, swapped some stories. After all, we both had family who involved in the First Contact War. My father, her grandfather. We just...talked. We talked about religion and the idea of a greater being: me being Jewish and her being Christian certainly made for interesting conversation. Then there was all the fuss with her sisters talking to me over comm link...that was embarassing. For Ash, mostly."

"Ha! I remember hearing about that!" Kaidan chortled, coughing from inhaling his drink too quickly from his amusement, "Only time Johnson wouldn't do his job. He was too busy laughing. Pressly gave him an earful for that stunt, but Johnson said it was worth it. From what I heard, Sarah thought you were hot, and spent the entire time trying to convince Ash to 'make a move.' Lynn and Abby weren't any help either."

Marcus nodded, "Yeah, that was pretty much it. Sarah took a while, but she got the hint. A matter of fact, I think she started jabbing at Kaidan next. Ashley looked about ready to punch a wall. Even asked me afterwards why she 'needs a man' and that she'd 'kick down sixteen walls if it got Sarah to shut up about it.' I just told her that any man lucky enough to get her attention better not piss her off. She...laughed it off. And boy was she a fan of poetry, too."

"I found her whispering one under her breath at one point," Kaidan admitted, "Walt Whitman, she told me."

The N7 nodded in acknowledgement, turning back to the table, "I think what we all are getting at is that Ash was truly charismatic. She was a treasture trove of personality. She could take out a geth from six hundred yards away and then recite to you poetry while in the mess. She was stubborn, but intelligent. Blunt, but in a good way. She was flexible, as was the case with her dislike of you guys changing into varying forms of friendship. Duty was her Bible, as much as the Bible was her duty. She was strong and courageous, but beautiful and easy to talk to. I don't think Ash is a kind of marine we'll ever see again, and it's a shame she never lived to see herself promoted to Lieutenant Commander."

"She was?" Tali asked. Marcus turned to her with a sad expression and the quarian sighed, nodding back at him, "Posthumously. I see."

"Quid pro quo," he replied, sighing a little himself, "A favor for a favor. We'd saved the Citadel and Ashley had given her life to save the galaxy, so I asked Hackett to give her a promotion to the rank she would be at today if she hadn't been a Williams. As it was, Hackett had the Marine Corps promote her to Lieutenant Commander," he smirked, "My old rank."

"What did her family say?" Liara asked, curious.

Kaidan spoke in for him, "I visited them myself sometime after Shepard's first death, before reassignment. Lynn, Sarah and Abby were devastated, but were proud of their sister. The mother said her father would have been proud of what she had done. As for her grandfather...he passed away shortly before the Battle of the Citadel. But he heard about Ashley's sacrifice...she said that he was annoyed she didn't get the rank she deserved but was happy she had returned honor and integrity to the Williams name."

Marcus raised his glass in the air, completing the toast, "To Ashley Madeline Williams, may her sacrifice remain a testament to the willpower and fighting spirit of this squad, and all it has accomplished and plans to accomplish. May her spirit fight alongside us and push us towards victory. She may not be here to fight the Reapers, but knowing that she'd want to is all we need," he smiled warmly, letting his pride fill him, "To Ashley, For Ashley, Without Ashley."

The rest of them responded in kind, tapping their glasses with his before taking drinks from their own, falling deathly silent: a moment of silence for the fallen marine.

_Three years later, and we're still recovering from her loss. Damn it..._

A shadow fell upon their table, blocking out the pulsing lights of the club and seemingly absorbing the shadows of the dancing asari on the main floor. Troubled by this, Marcus looked up to see a medium-sized krogan, dressed in a tight-fitting blue shirt and equally coloured pants, lime green eyes focused on him, his form imposing if it had not been for Marcus having a krogan friend who was far taller and more intimidating.

He met the krogan's look, who the rest of the squad were looking at now, "Can we help you? Are you one of Wrex's men?"

The krogan shook his head, "I do not serve Chieftain Wrex. While I disagree with his methods, his overall goal is admirable. But that is not why I'm here. I've been sent to summon you, Captain Shepard. Please follow me."

He shook his head, placing his glass down on the table and lazily sliding it away, "Nobody summons me, sir. Who wishes an audience with me?"

"Aria T'Loak," the krogan grumbled, jabbing a thumb to the doorway, "She wishes to speak with you. Come."

He widened his eyes at that.  _Aria wants to talk with me? I thought I'd gotten what she wanted. I got her the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack in turn for all of them fighting for the UGC. She's got everything she wanted, perhaps except..._

_No. She wouldn't need me for that._

_Or maybe she does. Surely she's heard of your exploits against Cerberus. And she would need someone like that if retaking Omega is still on her mind._

He stood up, motioning for the others to stay behind and enjoy their drinks, signalling he would be back soon. Tali was adamant though, standing up to follow him when the krogan held up a hand at her, "She wishes to speak with Shepard  _privately_. Your crew will have to remain here...including your wife."

He sighed, turning back to Tali with a pleading look. She gave in after a minute, sitting back down reluctantly. He smiled at her, before wiping it from his face as he followed the large krogan out of the club, Marcus feeling anxious enough to escape the club's pounding,  _ad nauseum_ beats. Lights flashed in his eyes, while people all around the club shouted to get themselves heard. A trio of asari huntresses, identified by their black and blue armor, stood by with omni-tools out, looking to be sharing information with one another. He ignored them all as they left the club, door shutting behind them and shutting out the loud beats almost immediately, a distant thrumming all that could be heard over the new sound of skycars whizzing by in the traffic, nothing but the Presidium as far as the eye could see.

The krogan walked him over to the side of a fence, where he braced himself against the railing. Marcus frowned at that as, when he arrived at the railing, there was nothing but a fifty storey drop and a few alien-like birds flying around, including an advertisement for the latest omni-tool on a wall nearby, flashing in bright orange, eye-catching color.

Before he could open his mouth to speak however, the krogan had leaned back, a gust of wind blowing in Marcus' face as a skycar had quickly ascended from below directly into their view, the back car door opening with a loud click of the lock releasing, revealing the occupant in the back, legs crossed in tight black leather, a white jacket wrapped around their torso but unzipped, arm drapped along the side of the back seat casually, her tattooed face turning to Marcus with her usual, harsh and aggressive, but simultaneously humoured and casual, demeanour, "Get in, Shepard."

Marcus didn't fail to notice the batarian in the driver's seat; likely one of her lackeys or bodyguards. The krogan stepped into the car, Aria standing up to allow him to sit on the other side. Marcus, hesitating for a moment, exhaled with exclamation as he climbed up into the hovering skycar and took a seat, door automatically closing behind him.

"Bray, take us into the traffic, make us look casual. Blend in," Aria ordered, and the batarian he now knew was Bray simply nodded without a word, the skycar shooting away from Purgatory towards the fledging traffic ahead.

Turning to him, Aria scowled; not an aggressive one, but one she seemed to naturally possess when talking to anyone, even one of her own men, "You've already met my krogan lieutenant, Nakmor Dreg, Shepard."

He scoffed, "Yeah, he was a real house warmer. Do you usually summon people with vague explanations and arrogant supposition?"

Aria simply leered, leaning back into the car as it entered the Presidium traffic lanes, "Don't tell me Dreg hurt your feelings, Shepard. I knew you were an idealist, but not a sook. So what if I summoned you? You came anyway, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

Marcus shifted in the leather seating of the expensive car, looking back at the former Ruler of Omega, "I was curious. Do warn me if the curiosity is about to kill the cat, because I need to know if there's enough satisfaction to bring it back a second time."

"Humans and your overly idiosyncratic idioms," Aria rolled her eyes, "Fine, I got you here, so I might as well get straight to it. Dreg, the datapad if you please."

The krogan handed her a datapad, which Aria quickly flicked through with a deft finger before handing over to Marcus, "As you've probably figured out already, I brought you here to talk about my plan to retake Omega."

He nodded as he took the datapad, looking through its contents, which was largely information about how many troops she had, the station's layout and her primary plan of attack. _So she really did 'summon' me to talk about her assault on Omega. I wonder what she has planned._

Before he could speak, Aria continued, shifting in her position as she spoke, "But, this conversation isn't without its benefits to you. My war to retake Omega is your war too, Shepard. Don't think for a second it isn't. As long as Cerberus continues to hold  _my_  station, they've got a crucial operating base for their military. They can refuel ships, resupply their troops, recruit from the population and launch attacks from a comfortable position without having to return to a station five clusters away...and most importantly of all, they can control the Terminus Systems with impunity. You know this, the UGC knows this and I know this. So  _my_  war is  _your_  war."

"You won't get any argument from me," Marcus summarily replied, looking up from the datapad to regard her, "Omega has been a pain in the UGC's ass for the past two months this war has been going on. None of our victories against Cerberus have meant much of anything because of it. We liberated Eden Prime, but they'll still have Omega. They lost Noveria, but they still hold bloody Omega. Their siege on the Citadel failed, but they can at least try again, knowing they still have Omega. Retaking Omega however...that would put Cerberus in a very compromising position...may even cripple their ability to wage war, at least temporarily."

"So we're thinking on the same page. Good," Aria declared, "So then you'll be happy that I've finalized a plan to kick them off my fucking station. The Illusive Man is still squarely at the top of my shit list," she smiled, turning to Marcus, "This is the part where I ask for your help. I've amassed quite the army; mercenaries mostly, but I've also managed to acquire former military contractors and freelancers looking for a score. I've got a large fleet of ships, ranging from modified freighters to even a hijacked Cerberus cruiser," seeing his raised eyebrow, she merely grinned wickedly, "Do not ask how I came by such a prize. What matters is that I have an army, a fleet and a fuckton of muscle, but what I lack is brains and tactical knowhow. My admiral, Jarral, is a moron bordering on mentally incompetent, requiring somebody to hold her hand. You...I've seen the reports. You know how to fight, how to command and how to inspire those under your leadership to follow. Admittedly, they are qualities I largely lack," Aria turned to him again, looking like she was about to choke on the next few words, but managed to say them regardless, "You also have experience fighting Cerberus. The Liberation of Eden Prime. The Battle of Noveria. The Siege on the Citadel. Each time, you've learnt their tactics and strategies. Nobody else in my forces has that kind of knowledge. I'm asking you to help me retake Omega, Shepard."

He nodded, absorbing all the information he had just been bombarded with. Turning back to her, he sighed, giving a final nod, "So what exactly are we looking at in terms of enemy force deployment? What have they got?"

Aria motioned to the datapad in his hand, "You'll find all the intel I've collected on there. Including the leader of the occupation himself."

He read through the datapad as prompted, quickly finding the intel she was referring to. He had to whistle at the figures he was looking at.  _Forty thousand troops garrisoned on Omega? That's forty thousand well-equipped, well-trained, properly armed and technologically superior cybernetically augmented supersoldiers, likely in entrenched positions of which they are now comfortable with after six months of getting to know the terrain. Not to mention they have Atlas mechs in support, and some kind of new LOKI mech variant called a Rampart, which looks dangerous by itself._

He continued looking through, getting to their naval composition.  _The entire Cerberus First Fleet, spearheaded by the flagship, CAW Elbrus. That's going to be a tough nut to crack. Like the ground troops, they've likely dug in and become accustomed to the terrain._

He looked back at her, shaking his head, "They've got an entire fleet and quite the army on the ground. Aria, you brought me here on my expertise regarding Cerberus. I'll tell you this: no matter what you've brought with you, none of it will be enough to win this war you're planning. They've got technology on their side, powerful warships and almost limitless supply lines. Their troops are too well trained and equipped for your mercs to handle, and with an array of mech support at their disposal, they'd be able to box your mercs in and wipe them out without losing more than a hundred men."

Aria smiled, "This is Omega. The odds don't scare me, that's why I brought you. But any man can battle an army and defeat a fleet. It's the man in charge you should be worried about," she reached over to the datapad and scrolled down, revealing a mugshot of a heavily-bearded, stocky looking man in a white Cerberus officer's uniform, "Meet General Oleg Petrovsky, supreme commander of the Cerberus military, admiral of First Fleet and commander of the Omega occupation. He was responsible for kicking me off the station, and now he holds the position that is rightfully mine."

Marcus nodded to her words as he slowly read through Petrovsky's dossier, finding himself impressed by the man's service record.  _Former Field Marshall in the Russian Federation. Fought during the First Contact War as a Colonel in the Alliance. Was a pro-humanist, but not a xenophobe. Regarded as a brilliant military strategist: has the added quirk of using a chessboard as his own virtual, tactical battlefield. Had a family, but is currently divorced. Left the Alliance and disappeared into obscurity..._

_...only to reappear as the Supreme Commander of the Cerberus military and at the spearhead of an occupation force._

Marcus had to admit that Petrovsky had quite the record, which worried him.  _The man was quite a fan of Sun Tzu, and given he's a brilliant tactician, that means he's not like any other general I've fought before. He's no Balak and he's no Harbinger. Balak was driven by rage and couldn't comprehend tactics and strategy to save his life. Harbinger simply rushes you, knowing he's got superior technology and will win. Petrovsky doesn't have the luxury of the latter, but with a quick-thinking mind, he can be a deadly opponent._

He turned to Aria, lowering the datapad ever so slightly to look at her, "The Illusive Man must really want Omega if he's got his best general in charge of that garrison, Aria. Which just furthers my point...your meagre little armada, no matter how big it is, is woefully underprepared. You're no match for him, Aria. If he defeated you once, he can easily do it again, and the first time you were far better equipped. How many people in this armada can you say, with absolute certainty, are loyal to you, aside from your usual retinue?"

"I've tried to tell her that myself," Dreg spoke up, arms crossed, "She doesn't listen. Omega is all she hears and all she wants to hear."

Aria scowled at the krogan, before turning to Marcus with a simple smile, "All brilliance has its weakness, Shepard. Petrovsky's is that he has a soft spot for civilians. He's...not what you expect from Cerberus."

Marcus frowned at that, "Soft spot for civilians? How so?"

"He absolutely refused to harm non-combatants," Aria declared, "He even killed his own second-in-command to prevent such a thing from happening. Only time he directly threatened innocent lives was when he was calling my bluff. Said he'd have his ships destroy the station if I didn't surrender and leave. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of calling his own. I couldn't risk my station. But somehow, even today, I wonder if he could have pulled the metaphorical trigger. His soft spot is something we can easily exploit."

Marcus was finding himself more and more impressed each time.  _This Petrovsky seems like an honourable man. He's brilliant, but isn't willing to put innocent lives at risk. A pity he's with Cerberus. We could have used brains like him._

"If your plan is too weaponize the population, you can forget it Aria," Marcus firmly declared, handing her back the datapad, "If that's your plan, let me out at the next stop. I don't care how important Omega is; we will not be taking it at the cost of innocent lives."

The asari merely chuckled, shaking her head, "You can be so naive, Shepard, but I see your point. I have no intention of weaponizing the people, be sure of that. No point in retaking Omega if most of the people in it are dead or hate me more than they usually do. Might as well be ruling over a loaded gun," she shook her head, turning to him, "No, I am simply letting you know what we're up against. A strategist needs to know their enemy, and I've given you the intel. You know Petrovsky and what he's capable of, and you also know he has a fuckton of troops at his disposal, an almost endless supply of resources and a big fucking fleet surrounded by asteroids for cover. I can tell you the rest of my plan during my debriefing tomorrow, but I need to know now: are you in or out? Or do I need to find a new man for the job?"

He thought over it for a moment. He knew their odds of success were minimal with what they had. An army of mercs and a ragtag band of ships against a properly prepared fleet of warships and entrenched soldiers was hilariously unfair, even Aria had to know that. Even with Shepard and his squad helping her, the odds of success were so low as to defy possibility. But he knew they had to do it. Omega had to be snatched out of the Illusive Man's hands. And the result of a victory was too tantalizing to resist.

If they had victory, the following would happen: Omega would fall into UGC hands, giving them a plentiful supply of element zero fuel for their ships, as well as snatching away Cerberus' choke hold on the Terminus systems and allow the UGC more mobility while taking it away from Cerberus. Capturing or killing Petrovsky would deprive the Illusive Man of his most capable general, as well as the commander of his entire military. He would lose forty thousand troops and an entire fleet, which for Cerberus, would be unacceptable losses. Cerberus would effectively lose their military advantage not just over the Alliance, but over the entire galaxy.

In the end, the idea of victory influenced his decision, and he nodded at Aria, "I'll help. I'll inform my crew."

"Do what you need to do," Aria turned back forward but before she could give the order for the skycar to turn around, she held up a hand, having reached an epiphany. Lowering her arm, she spoke without looking at him, "I...also have... _objections_ to some of the company you keep. Your... _squad._ So...you'll have to leave your ship and your squad behind."

He laughed, causing Aria to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He looked back at her and laughed again, causing her to deepen her scowl, wishing to know what part of her wording had been humorous to the human, "I fail to see what was amusing about my statement, Shepard."

Reeling in his amusement, he shook his head, still smiling as he spoke, "My squad are some of the best specialists and soldiers in the entire galaxy. We stopped Saren together, wiped out the Collectors together, took down the Shadow Broker together. And now, we're fighting this war together. Do you honestly expect me to just say goodbye and fuck off alone to help you retake Omega?"

Aria rolled her eyes, leaning back, "Let's just say...I want you all to myself."

He chuckled, shaking his head, "No can do, Aria. My squad is coming, as is the  _Normandy_."

She snapped her head to face him, expression contorting into anger as she pointed at him, "Careful now, Shepard. Do not get comfortable. This is  _my_ war, not yours. You will do as I wish if you want that element zero. You have nothing to bar-"

"That's where I'll stop you, Aria," he held up a hand, halting her words as he spoke again, "You see, you don't have shit over me. Way I see it, you desperately need Omega. I saw it the first time I saw you in Purgatory. You looked furious, but defeated. I saw the hatred, but the desperation as well, in your eyes as you spewed insults at the Illusive Man for taking Omega. You want the station so bad you're willing to do anything to get it. That's why you need me," she opened her mouth to speak, but he just kept talking, ignoring her, "Remember what you said just before?  _Your_  war is  _my_ war. Yes, the UGC needs Omega and needs its element zero. But you know what? What are you going to do to stop us from taking it, Aria? These aren't your glory days, and you're not Petrovsky. If you took Omega and refused to give us the eezo, I could very easily just send a UGC fleet to take it from you. We're more than capable of doing so, and you'd be helpless to stop us. So don't tell me you hold all the cards. You don't."

Aria had closed her mouth, clearly taken aback by his words. His smile disappeared, expression serious as he continued, ideas pouring into his head, "Now, I'll say it now, because noone here has: if you try to take Omega with what you have and you will lose. Even with me, you will lose. Petrovsky is smarter than you and has had months to learn the station just as well as you know it. He knows all the chokepoints, ambush areas and has likely rallied the population to his side, especially if he's as honourable as you say he is. If you want to win this war, you're going to do this my way, and that means letting me bring my squad of professionals and letting me bring the  _Normandy_. And that's only step one."

He stopped for a moment, gauging Aria's response. She looked at him, wondering what he had in mind, "And what exactly is step two, Shepard? I'm listening."

He smiled, "Oh, you know, I just so happen to have quite a few alliances during my time in this war. The UGC is more powerful than its ever been. And with the quarians and geth now added to the mix, we can effectively wage entire campaigns. Now, what if I told you I could pass word of this down the UGC command chain and perhaps 'acquire' a proper army to take this station?"

She frowned at him, "The UGC would never agree to help me."

"You're right. They wouldn't," Marcus replied immediately, "But they wouldn't be. They'd be taking a key strategic location in the Terminus Systems from the hands of the enemy, facilitating a liberation, boosting the morale of the troops in the process as well as crippling their enemy in the process. They've got every reason to want Omega out of Cerberus hands as much as you do. Point is, are you willing to put your pride aside to allow them to help, or are you going to try and take Omega yourself, and inevitably lose? And make no mistake: with Petrovsky at the helm, you don't stand a chance. He'll have your forces wiped out before they even get to see the interior of your station."

It took a few moments for Aria to think through that. Those moments felt like hours as Aria T'Loak, former Queen of Omega, weighed her options. In the end, she turned to him, appraising him apparently. She then gave a slight nod, "Very well. Inform your friends in the UGC. Tell them I have a briefing at my HQ tomorrow; I'll send them the time and the coordinates."

He turned back around, noticing that Bray had brought the skycar back around to Purgatory, where he was currently descending, "Smart move, Aria. I know you want to do this your way, but it simply isn't possible. But remember: no matter how you take the station, you will take it. Omega will be yours, be sure of that much."

Aria didn't even nod or answer his question directly, simply motioning out as the skycar arrived, door popping open, "Just be discreet, Shepard. I don't want the entire galaxy knowing my plan. Cerberus has ears everywhere."

Stepping out of the skycar and back onto good old, solid ground, he looked back behind him just in time to watch the skycar door click shut, ascend and then shoot back out into the Citadel's traffic, blending back into their traffic lanes. Knowing that her debriefing was tomorrow, he decided to make preparations. It was once again time to jump back into the fray.

Turning around, he opened his omni-tool, contacting a particular person who he knew would be of assistance. It took a moment before the line opened, and a familar voice sounded through the line.

"This is Admiral Gerrel, how may I assist you, Shepard?"

"Have you been reassigned yet?"

"No. We're still awaiting orders from the brass in the UGC."

"Then consider me the brass. I've got the perfect first assignment. How would you like to help liberate a space station?"

**"Keelah...I'll never forget the battle to retake Omega. At that point in the war, it was the most ambitious military operation the UGC at ever taken."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Omega is now known as Alpha, but the scars of its past still haunt that station, even under Sanctum control."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"The Sanctum?"**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

**"I'll explain later. What happened next?"**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"What else? The debriefing. And, perhaps, a completely unexpected, surprise visit from someone I hadn't spoken to in a while..."**

**\- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yes, I know what you're thinking. Ashley was portrayed as, for lack of a better way to describe it, a complete cunt in I: Enigma. And before you start getting all victorious and self-righteous (specifically talking to you Myron), let me get one thing straight: I've never been happy with how Ashley was treated in I: Enigma, I simply didn't want to admit I'd fucked up. I was so focused with moving the plot forward that I didn't care much for how I treated a character that was now dead anyway. But I felt I needed to rectify that at some point, hence part of this chapter was dedicated to 'clearing her name' as such. As I've announced, I plan to fix my errors with her character in the remaster of I: Enigma, and everything you saw mentioned about her in this chapter will be featured in the remaster. In retrospect, I quite like Ashley and given I was new to writing (fresh from the abomination To Survive II), I certainly went overboard with the characterization, and perhaps took her 'slightly racist' personality into 'full-blown, automatic racism.'** _

_**In other news, I dedicate this chapter to Carrie Fisher. In Loving Memory of that beautiful and fantastic woman, I dedicate this chapter. I know this has nothing to do with her or what she did, but I feel I need to do that. Carrie Fisher is one of many actors I have immense respect for, and her passing was devastating for all of us, I'm sure. She not only be remembered for her role as Princess Leia, but be remembered for how she affected us in different ways, including be a powerful and effective symbol for women. She demonstrated that women can be powerful, influential and badass in their own way, and for that I say:** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, Carrie Fisher. May you find rest in the homeworld's skies.** _


	62. Twin Genetics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard assembles Admiral Gerrel and Admiral Themistocles to enlist quarian and geth assistance in Aria's invasion. Miranda assists an SIA strike team in attacking a Cerberus research facility on Sanctum. Miranda warns Shepard against underestimating Petrovsky.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT:**

**TWIN GENETICS**

_August 1, 2186_

_0859 hours._

_Mercenary Temporary Headquarters, Lower Ward, Romulus Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Mercenary Leader Aria T'Loak, Lieutenant Bray, Admiral Jarral, Lieutenant Nakmor Dreg, Fleet Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Fleet Admiral Themistocles._

"And you're absolutely sure that T'Loak can be trusted?"

Marcus stopped as the two men reached the entrance to Aria's makeshift headquarters, hand falling to his side as he prepared to tap the haptic interface to open the metallic grey door. He turned to the quarian admiral at his side, looking through the man's black visor to see the man calmly and unflinchingly looking back at him. Marcus wouldn't have thought the two would be in each other's company so soon without a few fists exchanged, but apparently their relationship had been mended ever since the admiral had admitted to his mistakes. Not all grudges were permanent...or so it seemed. But Marcus wasn't going to get over the incident on the geth super-dread anytime soon, regardless of Gerrel's change of heart.

He sighed, licking his lips with a slight chuckle, "Gerrel, I trust Aria about as much as I trust the Crucible's ability to kill Reapers. I'm skeptical of both, but I know we need both. Aria is a powerhouse in her own right, and as much as I hate to say it, we need to help her out with this. Having her in power on Omega is preferable to Petrovsky, in other words."

Gerrel nodded, hands clasped behind his back as he turned to regard the door infront of him, "A fair assessment, but my point remains. Aria T'Loak is a woman we don't want to be in bed with, especially when you're asking me to commit quite a bit of my ships to retaking Omega."

"Well, if you're not eager to do it for Aria, admiral," Marcus began, scratching behind his ear, "Then do it for the quarian people. I'm sure your people want to get Cerberus back for the  _Idenna_ and the  _Rayya_. Wouldn't you prefer to strike at Cerberus for a change?" Marcus was in his usual dress blues, not really seeing much need in wearing combat armor to what was supposed to be a debriefing. He brought a predator pistol sidearm just to be sure though; you could never know with Aria T'Loak.  _No reason to believe she wouldn't stab me in the back if push came to shove. She's no more trustworthy than the Illusive Man was._

Gerrel's response was restrained, but Marcus could tell he agreed with the sentiment, "That could certainly boost the morale of the men and women of the Fleet, but it won't rest my soul as easy. Working with criminals is borderline criminal in itself."

Themistocles, the black trooper-class combat platform standing behind them, its white optics glowing at them with its headflaps twisting and shifting, "Under normal circumstances, such logic would be deemed perfectly certifiable. However, given the state of galactic affairs and Cerberus' relationship with the quarian people, committing forces to combating this threat is not as immoral as you seem to be implying. We would not be so much as working for Aria T'Loak as we would be usurping a dictator and replacing him with somebody more in line with our ideals. Good for the war effort, good for us."

Marcus smiled, turning back to Gerrel, who had tilted his head to face the geth slightly, "Themistocles put it quite nicely. Aria may not be the definition of a good person, but she is a necessary asset. Besides, think of the tactical advantage. Whoever controls Omega owns the Terminus Systems and a shit ton of eezo. Enough to refuel entire fleets...perhaps Aria could be convinced to allow the RANCO to use it regularly in return for some of your ships to reinforce hers in holding the station? Who knows. Aria's not one for gratefulness, but I'm sure she'll make some compromises." RANCO was the official abbreviation for the Rannochian Coalition: the interim representative government/military alliance of the twin species of Rannoch. Koris was now the official quarian representative for the UGC, while Aristotle was the official geth representative.

Gerrel shook his head, exhaling heavily, "It is tempting to have somebody like Aria begging  _us_ for support for a change. I still can't commit a large number of my forces, however. Primarch Victus is already asking for assistance in the campaign to hold Palaven and to liberate key Hierarchy systems. They'll soon have krogan to help on the ground, and quarian ships in the sky to fill the gap left by their withdrawing warships."

"A necessary withdrawal, of course," Marcus pointed out, tapping the interface as the door unlocked and whished open, "The turians simply couldn't continue to throw their ships at the Reapers. Your presence would be a welcome relief to the turians."

Gerrel chuckled, following Themistocles and Marcus into the enclosed chamber. The room would be pitch black if not for the glowing terminals and flashing screens across the walls, a single holographic war table in the middle, a bright red hologram of Omega hovering just above the interface, the mixture of a red and blue glow lighting up the face of the batarian leaning over it, an asari across from him almost anal in their attention as she watched the batarian point to a specific point on the holo schematic, obviously going over the battle plan. Marcus recognized Bray, Aria's right-hand man looking focused and professional, almost like he loved his job. The asari he was talking to was too short to be Aria, and even in the darkness, he would have immediately recognized the asari's white jacket anywhere. The asari must have been this Jarral he heard so much about.

_Overly attentive for someone who she described as being incompetent._

Gerrel spoke one final time as they moved into the room, finishing their original conversation, "I never thought I would see the day where any turian politician would ask a quarian for help."

To his surprise, Themistocles replied to that almost immediately, "The Creators never expected to be allied with the geth either."

To his further surprise, Gerrel's simply shrugged, nodding as they reached the center table, Bray straightening himself, Jarral doing the same as she took notice of the trio, "A good point, Themistocles. Everything will be changing now...other than the obvious galactic synthetic genocide."

Marcus stood to the left of who he assumed was Jarral, the asari giving him a brief nod before she turned back to the table, leaning her head on a single fist supported on her elbow as she used her other hand to idly flick at the holo schematic, the representation of the station spinning around. Gerrel stood to the left of Marcus, and Themistocles to the left of him, his optics likely already scanning the schematics in its totality.

Bray frowned at Marcus, before a grin split his lips, "The great Captain Shepard. Heh," the batarian pretended to pat down his pockets, before pulling up his hands in a sort of comical 'whoops' look, "And me without my autograph book."

_A smartass. Only so much room in the galaxy for them before it explodes._

Marcus chuckled. Bray's grin and sarcasm wasn't what you'd expect in regards to Shepard. With Balak, any sarcasm or smirks aimed at Marcus were hate filled: Balak despised him and wanted his head on a spike and wouldn't rest until he got it, and Marcus wouldn't rest until he did likewise, but both were willing to wait until after the war to resume hostilities: that didn't mean they were friends. As for Bray...he didn't know the man, but he had a feeling Bray was just poking fun at him...there was no hatred behind it. No malice. Just...someone trying to stir him up. Out of mistrust, maybe, not utter contempt. That Marcus could accept.

"Save it, Lieutenant," Marcus replied, addressing the man by rank to stir him up in return, "We're here for the debriefing."

"No shit," Jarral mumbled, still not seeming to pay attention to them as she splayed her hand open, zooming in on Omega's tail, the part of the station that thinned out into a sort of lower spire. Marcus had no idea what the hell she was doing, and his current impression of her seemed like that of a child who was bored and wanted to go home while their parents talked amongst each other on some topic that the child was simply too basic to contribute to.

Bray crossed his arms, motioning to the two admirals with Marcus, "This the help you promised?"

Marcus braced his arms against the table, the brightness of the table contributing to the darkness shrouding around them making him painfully aware of the beginnings of a few red rings appearing under his eyes. They weren't noticable to the naked eye, but Marcus was aware they were forming, a demonstration of the many nights he had spent wide awake reading casualty reports and filing out post-mission reports. The amount of interviews from reporters he had turned down due to numerous reasons...and that's not to mention the letters of thanks that had been rerouted to his personal extranet address...mixed among the odd person who got a hold of his address and sent hate mail...

He looked up at the batarian, pushing aside the thoughts of the people suffering throughout the galaxy to focus on saving them, one step at a time, "Yes, they are. This is Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema of the Migrant Fleet and Admiral Themistocles of the Geth Collective."

"Yes," Bray turned to the geth, looking to stiffen slightly, uncrossing his arms to finger what was likely a pistol at his hip, "We've noticed the geth in your presence..."

Marcus stood up, making sure the batarian saw the pistol at his own hip as well, "Themistocles is our ally, Bray. You'd do good to take your hand away from that weapon,  _now_."

"There is no need to defend me, Shepard-Captain," Themistocles held up its hand, turning to Bray with a twitching of its headflaps, "I do not intend physical harm upon you, Bray-Lieutenant, neither have I ever desired to. Your concern is unwarranted."

Bray scoffed, scratching his nose as he pulled his hand from his pistol and crossing his arms slowly while watching the geth, "Yeah well...it'd better be. You so much as look at Aria the wrong way-"

"-the one rule of Omega will apply," came a voice from the darkness, Marcus looking up as he saw the outline of an asari in a white jacket approaching, immediaely knowing who it was. She came to a stop opposite from him, Bray and Jarral straightening at her presence, Jarral slower to the draw. Aria T'Loak braced against the table herself, a salarian standing to her right, tapping at his omni-tool eagerly and not at all noticing any of them at the table, while Dreg stood to her left, the krogan towering over Aria, eyes locking onto Marcus with a look of indifference. Her tattooed face looked up at Marcus, before turning back to Themistocles, and finally landing on Bray. She snorted, shaking her head, "Oh, don't look so anal, Bray; it was never your strong suit. I'm sure Shepard wouldn't be stupid enough to bring in a geth unless he knew it was friendly."

"All the geth are 'friendly' now, Aria," Marcus pointed out, "Which is exactly why Themistocles is here. The geth are willing to help retake Omega, Aria. I told you I would get help, and I did. Han'Gerrel is here to represent the quarians as well," he smiled, nodding to the Omega hologram, "And they aren't all the help I've acquired. I've made quite a few calls."

"Good," Bray spoke up, scratching the top of his head, "I can't wait to see what all the fuss is about."

Marcus decided to ignore that comment, motioning to Gerrel and Themistocles in preparation to make introductions again, "Well, Aria T'Loak, this is-"

"Admirals Han'Gerrel and Themistocles. Yeah, I heard," Aria interrupted, turning to the salarian on her right, "Ahz, get off that omni-tool and bring up the schematics for our fleet disposition. I think it's about time we showed Shepard and our guests just what the Omega Liberation Front has assembled."

Gerrel shook his head, "A bit dramatic, don't you think?"

Aria seemed to glare a hole through the quarian admiral before tearing her eyes away and addressing Marcus directly, "I promised Petrovsky I would return with the biggest mercenary army the galaxy has ever seen to retake my fucking station, and the Omega Liberation Front is just that," Aria turned back to the salarian named Ahz, who was now typing at the table's terminal as he inputted the necessary information. In a few moments, data began to stream directly to the table's interface, followed by Omega's holoform evaporating in a blaze of particles to be replaced by the individual forms of a large mercenary fleet.

Ahz quietly turned up from the terminal and stood back, allowing Aria to move in and begin typing at the terminal herself, the specific information she wanted appearing on the screens infront of them, "I've brought an equal number of troops and ships with me for this assault. Now, before you decided that you'd bring your squad, the  _Normandy_ and a quarter of the fucking UGC with you, I deemed this force more than enough to retake Omega from Petrovsky. Of course, you had different ideas, didn't you?"

"Petrovsky doesn't give a damn about your one rule, Aria. You learnt that," Marcus dryly remarked, waving a dismissive hand, "No matter how big your force was, it had no essence behind it. You may be intimidating Aria when you're in control, but you're not: Petrovsky is. If you want to win, you have to work with me. Outsmarting Petrovsky is the key to winning the upcoming fight. You know that, otherwise you wouldn't have to come to me."

"I understand that, Shepard," Aria hissed, gritting her teeth almost angrily at having to be constantly reminded that she had to swallow her pride and accept help, "Which is why you're even aware of this operation in the first place. Now, do you want to hear what I've got or not?"

He held up his hands defensively, before letting them fall back to the table with a quick nod in her direction, "By all means, Aria. Show us everything you've been collecting these past eight months."

Aria, without so much as a smile, straightened herself and flicked through the information, reading it out like a grocery list as she went, tone almost disinterested, "Let us start with what we have on the ground. Mrs. Renmark has been very helpful in that regard, and with Zaeed Massani off being a, 'quote on quote, 'goddamn hero', Renmark was more than willing to give me what I needed, especially when she heard I was retaking Omega: she was born there, you see. So, she's given me two full battalions of Blue Suns mercenaries, accompanied by some vehicles and heavy weapons: she herself volunteered to lead them, leaving her man Palisus in charge of the Citadel division while she is gone."

"I know Jentha. She's a good soldier," Marcus noted, "So what else?"

"Thought you'd be interested," Aria grinned, turning to her man Dreg, "Show them the rest."

Dreg nodded and began to flick through with the same disinterest his leader did, "Turns out you have quite a number of people indebted to you, Shepard. In attempting to acquire two battalions of Eclipse mercenaries from Sayn, he refused until we dropped your name, and then he was all over it: said he'd even send one of his best commanders to lead the battalions themselves, along with a surplus of mech support and a couple of their vanguards. Apparently Sayn owes a lot to you. I'm sure it had nothing to do with you killing Jona Sederis and putting him in power."

Marcus didn't fail to notice Aria's glare across the table at him, the asari crossing her arms. He sighed, turning to look at Dreg, ignoring the Queen of Omega's glare, "Sederis was a fucking psychopath. All she saw was blood, all she wanted was blood and she wouldn't rest until her enemies were drowning in blood. I put her down like the animal she was, and put someone more capable in charge. If anyone else has a problem with that, then shoot me."

Dreg gritted his teeth, growling slightly, "I don't give a shit about Sederis. She was no friend of mine. Just pointing out that Sayn's debt to you got us some extra troops. That was a thank you."

"Well..." he lost track of what he wanted to say, before simply shrugging, thinking of the first words that came to mind, "You're welcome, then."

" _Moving_  on," Aria interrupted.

Dreg did just that, flicking to the next bit of information, "We've acquired a full legion of Blood Pack mercs from Gryll, complete with 3,000 vorcha boom squads and the best heavy weapons available. All of that is not including the main ground forces that Aria herself wields. We have three platoons of our own men ready and willing, with myself and Bray prepared to lead them," he lowered his hand, finished flicking through the holograms, and slowly turned to Jarral, his glare almost as devastating as a thanix cannon as he looked directly at Jarral.  _Nobody seems to be fans of her_ , "And that brings us to the fleet."

Jarral quickly nodded, tearing her eyes away from Dreg as if afraid he would bite her head off, "Yes, we've got a number of ships as part of our arsenal, all of which are under my command," she said that with somekind of pride, one of which Marcus noticably saw Aria roll her eyes at, and Bray sigh heavily at. Jarral seemed to notice the latter, glaring at the batarian bitterly before turning back to the table, trying her best to ignore the exasperations of her colleagues, "We managed to get our hands on fourteen  _Farixen_ -class light frigates, for starters."

Gerrel looked surprised by that, " _Farixen_ -class? How did you get your hands on a turian frigate, let alone such a large amount?"

Jarral looked amused by that question, as if she was proud that she knew something a distinguished military commander didn't, "It wasn't hard, old man.  _Farixen_ -class frigates were decommissioned close to two decades ago."

Gerrel, in his exasperation, rolled his eyes, turning to the asari 'admiral' in turn, "I'm well aware of that,  _admiral_. But the turians are the only species in the galaxy that do not sell warships to other races after their decommissioning; they scrap them and use what's left to build more ships. My surprise lies with that you managed to get your hands on fourteen turian warships that should, by all rights, no longer exist."

Jarral didn't seem to know how to respond to that, mouth opening but no words coming out. Before she could explain herself, Aria sighed and intervened, tone exasperated and annoyed by the constant interruption, "They were fucking stolen. A few bribes were made decades ago with some of the esteemed members of the turian navy, and they arranged for a few ships to disappear from their docks: they made sure they were written off as destroyed, and fourteen turian frigates escaped decommissioning. And now they're mine. Are you happy now?"

"My curiosity is saturated so far," Gerrel admitted, nodding his head to Aria, although he clearly wasn't happy about it, "The mystery of the stolen turian warships is solved. Carthasis has been provided. Just got to hope the Hierarchy doesn't see those ships."

"I would agree with you, Gerrel," Marcus spoke up, grabbing the attention of the admiral, "But it turns out Victus and the rest of the Hierarchy have bigger problems than ships that, for all they know, are gone."

"Agreed," Jarral stated, clearing her throat to bring all attention back to her. Everyone looked back at the holotable with her, "Now, back to what we have. Other than our fourteen... _stolen_... _Farixen_ -class light frigates, we also have seventeen rearmed and armoured  _Asfinphea_ -class asari destroyers...and before you ask, they were sold and bought between numerous companies before ending up in our possession. We had to have them rearmed and armoured though; they'd been stripped of both and turned into pleasure barges," she laughed at the thought, and Marcus couldn't help but grin at that either.

_A fearsome asari warship...turned into a luxurious, glorified cruise liner._

The asari continued, flicking through more of the information on her fleet details, "We also managed to get our hands on three decommissioned but, yet again, rearmed and rearmoured Alliance  _Mermaid_ -class corvettes. We basically had to convert them into frigates; more armor at the front, more armament towards the back and stronger shields. Not unrecognizable...just repainted and made better," next, a single, much larger and more recognizable image, appeared, Jarral continuing, "And probably the largest ship we've commandeered has to be this decommissioned  _Everest_ -class dreadnought."

"That's the SSV  _Fuji_ ," Marcus stated, "I know because I remember watching it get decommissioned: the last  _Everest_ -class ship to be retired. The ship's identification code is still engorged into the hull...near the front." The 'HA-14' near the front of the ship stood for 'Heavy Assault-14', Heavy Assault meaning it was a dreadnought, and 14 meaning it was the fourteenth ship to be decommissioned. Given that not a single  _Kilimanjaro_ -class dreadnought had been retired yet, that only left the  _Everest_ -class: and the fourteenth  _Everest_ -class ship was the  _Fuji_. That's how he knew.

"Yeah, well...we call it  _Omega's Hammer_  now.  _My_ flagship," Jarral emphasized, rolling her eyes at Marcus as she continued, "Anyway, we also have nineteen  _Athabasca_ -class freighters in our possession, all of them fitted with armor, some guns added and cruiser-grade kinetic barriers: they aren't warships, but they can certainly pack a punch. And, of course, our stolen prize," one final flick, and the all too familiar form of a Cerberus light cruiser appeared, solitary and alone.

"I present to you the  _Hyderabad_ -class light cruiser, CAW  _Eisenhower_ , formerly commanded by the late Captain Edmund Lentz, now in  _our_  possession," Jarral gloated, grinning, "Captured while alone on patrol. Those Cerberus assholes and their high tech were no match for a direct EMP blast and a Blood Pack boarding team. Took the dickheads by surprise and claimed their ship without Cerberus so much as knowing about it. Now it's ours. It's also our ticket in."

In a sort of 'drop the mic' moment, Jarral thumbed the control panel, switching the hologram of the fleet back to that of Omega itself, station slowly spinning as if it were the real thing. Jarral crossed her arms, turning back to them with a sort of smugness to her posture, "Any questions?"

"Yeah. Plenty," Marcus held a finger up, to which Jarral nodded for him to continue. He turned to the asari admiral, his own arms now crossed, pointing to where the former holo of the Cerberus cruiser had once resided, "First of all, you clearly have the intent of using the captured Cerberus cruiser to infiltrate the enemy fleet, but my question is for what purpose."

"Simple," Jarral sighed like an annoyed child as Aria responded for her, drawing Marcus' attention to the criminal mastermind, "The plan, before you intervened, was for my fleet to wait at the Balor relay under the command of Jarral. The  _Eisenhower_ , with you, me and Dreg onboard, would advance through the relay alone and approach Petrovsky's fleet. We politely commandeered the entrance codes from Captain Lentz, so that would let us slip right by their exterior patrols and let us get within their midst."

Marcus inwardly scoffed at her use of terminology.  _By 'politely commandeered' she meant 'tortured.' Fucking hell Aria. Anything to get your damn station back._

_Ah well, you want that station too, Marcus. The war, remember?_

_I'm aware._

_**Serv-** _

_Get fucked, Harby._

Aria continued, oblivious to his inner thoughts as was everyone else in the room, "The next step is to get nice and close to Petrovsky's flagship. It's a modified, Cerberus built  _Kilimanjaro_ -class dreadnought called the  _Elbrus_. He'll have it docked right at the station proper, near the core of his fleet and safe from enemy fire; at least until now, of course. It's got a longer range MAC, more missile batteries, better GARDIAN tracking and strenghtened shields: my fleet won't be able to take it on, but of course that won't be a problem. Given the lack of a battle readiness, the  _Elbrus_ ' shields will be down and the dreadnought vulnerable: we'll get in nice and close and use the  _Eisenhower_ 's arsenal to tear the  _Elbrus_ apart. With Petrovsky's flagship dead in the water, I'll signal my ships to move through the relay and storm Omega. We should catch Cerberus completely by surprise and destroy a significant portion of their naval forces. I had fifty javelin torpedoes jury-rigged and moved to the front of the ship: we'd evacuate to the back of the cruiser and then slam it straight into Omega, where the Fulmuk District is. The torpedoes and the ship's collision will decompress the entire area, but allow us to move inside unhurt. After that, Jarral will mop up the remaining Cerberus forces in orbit around the station and deploy our ground troops. After that, it becomes a ground war. That's where you'd have come in. You'd lead my forces to victory over Petrovsky and retake my station, one district at a time."

By the end, Aria leaned back, crossing her arms with a slight smirk, "So, Shepard...will my plan work or not? I've thought through this for months. We've checked over every possible alternative and solution to the issue: this is the plan with the least collateral and casualties. I don't doubt we'll have casualties, but nothing crippling to his operation."

"Oh, there will be casualties," Gerrel seemed to agree, before shaking his head, "You'll lose well over three quarters of your fleet, most of your ground forces will be wiped out before they make ground, and Petrovsky will go district to district, keeping his station locked down."

Aria glared daggers at him, "I didn't ask yo-"

"I agree," Marcus stated, visibly irritating Aria as she moved to respond. He held a hand, stopping her as he continued, using the hologram as referenced, "Your first mistake Aria was assuming you've got this in the bag. You may not have heard of Sun Tzu, but he had a famous saying that is relevant to this situation: 'know yourself and know your enemy, and will never lose a battle.' Forgive me if I'm paraphrasing like a heathen, but I believe you've grossly underestimated Cerberus' capabilities, and you've overestimated your own. Months of planning Aria, and you've turned up a plan that will go to shit in minutes and has so many loopholes, I don't even know where to begin picking it apart."

"You're here because I need tactical and strategic advice," Aria growled, tensing slightly. After a moment however, she relaxed and nodded at him, although it was through gritted teeth and a cup full of reluctance, "So...advise."

He nodded, "First of all, your plan deerves to be given credit where it's deserved. The decision to use a Cerberus light cruiser to sneak behind enemy lines and destroy their flagship is a good idea, but that's where your plan falls apart. You make the poor assumption that your fleet will punch through the Cerberus fleet destroy them easily and without question. You've made no mention of any contingencies in case this does not occur. You caught one cruiser offguard Aria, but what about an entire fleet? This is  _Cerberus_  we're talking about, not some ragtag group of mercenaries. They have technological superiority aplenty, and from what you've shown me, they outnumber you two to one. They have more ships and of better quality. More firepower, better captains...a superior commander," Marcus tried his best not to mention names, but couldn't help but give Jarral an ever so slight glance, but made sure she didn't see it. Not that she would have if he had made it obvious, though.

"So what do you think would happen?" Jarral asked, sounding offended, her frown turning into a sneer.

There was no hesitation as he responded, "If you're lucky, you'd catch a couple of cruisers. Perhaps a dozen corvettes. After that, Petrovsky would rally his fleet and slice through your ragtag band of ships like they were nothing. A single heavy cruiser are more than capable than standing up to your ships, and that's not including the carriers and battleships they'll have. You've also made the mistake of forgetting about carriers...Jarral failed to mention any sort of fighter coverage, which means you've either got none or didn't value them enough to mention," he shook his head, chuckling, "A swarm of interceptors and bombers is more dangerous than any cruiser or battleship. Once they get under your flak, they'll tear your ships to pieces. Your little dreadnought will be rendered useless by just a couple squadrons of bombers."

Jarral, flustered, straightening, her face lighting up in anger, "I outfitted that dreadnought with the best-"

"Oh, save me the shit," Marcus stated dismissively, frowning at her as if she was somekind of moron, "Cerberus sets the definition for best. No matter how many anti-aircraft guns you have outfitted on that moving shitheap, those bombers will get under it and once they've done that, you'll be sounding abandon ship faster than you can call for reinforcements. Let's face it Aria," he brought his attention back to her, "Your fleet, as impressive as you may think it is, will be throwing pebbles at a flowing river. The battle will be over in minutes with a fleet like this."

"This is bullshit!" Jarral waved her arms up in the air as the beginning of her tantrum, one hand coming to land on her hip as she turned to Aria, waving her hand at Marcus, "Aria, you put me in charge of this fleet! I won't stand here and listen to this asshole shit talk my hard work! Do you have any idea how much money I spent making sure that dreadnought was armed to the teeth? Thousands of credits! I can't believe we're listening to this guy..."

"You've faced Petrovsky before, Aria," Marcus pleaded after Jarral's rant, the asari he addressed looking blankly at the table in growing irritation, "You must know he won't fold under this. This...this is a toddler's band of merchant ships armed with water guns! Plain and simple! What you've got here won't last the minutes it takes to get from that relay to Omega. Your war? It'll be over, just like that. So are you going to let me suggest an actual strategy or will you let this 'admiral' of yours continue to dictate your battle plan?"

"You've made your goddamn case, Shepard. Fuck," Aria snapped, looking up at him with a cocked head, "Fuck it. Jarral, sit down and stop looking so angry and let Shepard talk. He knows more about this shit than you do, so you might want to whip out your omni-tool and start taking some fucking notes."

Jarral looked about ready to object further when she seemingly deflated, pride washing away as she turned to Marcus, reluctantly motioning for him to continue.

He nodded to her, before turning back to Aria, "Your ground force is good, but it'll need bolstering if we're going to make even with Petrovsky's forces: we need to take away every advantage he has until all he's got is that mind of his. That means we need to take away the numerical advantage itself, their technological advantage and their knowledge of the terrain. Aria, you've already know Omega like the back of your hand, so we have that: we need to secure the rest. Your fleet and your army needs improvement. Luckily for you, I made some calls," he turned to Gerrel and Themistocles, nodding to them, "I didn't bring them for no reason. They're the help."

Themistocles' headflaps shifted slightly before it gave a slight nod, "I are currently communicating with all our forces concurrently. I am organizing attribution of geth forces to the Omega military operation. I believe retaking this station from the forces of Cerberus is relevant to geth interests and is necessary as a contribution to the war effort."

Gerrel nodded in agreement, "I've come to the same conclusion. Omega is a strategic asset, and anything Cerberus can get their claws on is something we want to rip right back. And, thanks to Captain Shepard's reasoning, I think I'm willing to contribute some of our own forces to aid in this operation. Given that the quarians and geth are new to this war, we're in the best position to offer assistance. And we remember the  _Idenna_. And the  _Rayya_. My people want pay back against Cerberus just as much as you do."

"Then you're willing to help. I get that," Aria angrily interrupted, slamming a hand into the table, "So what are you willing to provide?"

Marcus and Gerrel exchanged brief glances at that, before sharing nods of affirmation. The quarian admiral turned back, nodding to Aria, "I am prepared to dedicate twenty  _Zarasis_ -class light cruisers, four  _Paramount_ -class heavy frigates and six  _Vesa'kee_ -class light frigates. We will also provide a maximum of ten squadrons of fighters. At current, we cannot offer anymore ships. I will personally oversee the fleet myself."

Marcus turned to Gerrel, a raised eyebrow, "You sure about that, admiral?"

Gerrel quickly nodded, having obviously thought his decision through, "I'm sure. Admiral Koris can command the rest of the Fleet while I'm gone. I wish to oversee this battlegroup myself."

Themistocles spoke next, quickly finished with its consensus, "Consensus has been reached. The geth are willing to commit one dreadnought, two battleships, twelve heavy cruisers and eighteen light frigates. We will also commit fifteen squadrons of fighters, five squadrons of bombers and seven squadrons of interceptors. I believe these numbers to be sufficient."

"Well shit," Jarral exclaimed, gulping suddenly as she tried to recompose herself, "I mean...damn. That should be more than sufficient to reinforce our fleet."

"And enough to smash the Cerberus fleet as you plan to do," Gerrel pointed out, hands still clasped behind his back firmly, "We'll break the Cerberus line, surround them on all sides. The geth have cloaking technology on all their ships, which gives us a significant advantage over Cerberus: as far as we know, the geth are the only ones to possess cloaking technology, which means Cerberus will not see us coming. The geth can move under cloak and surround the enemy fleet from all sides, allowing us to take them out much faster than simply funnelling our ships into a flank we're not sure will even collapse."

"That is excellent to hear," Dreg declared, frowning at them narrowly, "But all I hear is talk of ships. You can smash the Cerberus blockade, sure. With a fleet like that, I have no doubt we'll decimate Petrovsky's ships and scatter them to the wind. But I brought you for the ground war, Shepard. That's the deciding factor here. We can win the fight in space, but winning the battle on the ground is what matters."

"I concur," Gerrel acknowledged, "And I've acknowledged the need for ground forces. But the Migrant Fleet Marines will be stretched too thin soon, and I simply cannot risk what troops we have. However, I will commit one hundred of our combat engineers to help reinforce Aria's. Given Cerberus' monopoly on technologically advanced weaponry and logistics, having our engineers assist yours will give you an edge."

Before Aria could respond, Themistocles spoke up, "I am also willing to dedicate ground troops, but given our numbers, the geth will be able to supply far more," a few seconds later, the black geth trooper decided, "I am prepared to deploy one squad of Prime-class combat platforms, three squads of Juggernaut-class combat platforms, six platoons of Destroyer-class combat platforms, one battalion of Hopper-class combat platforms, three regiments of Trooper-class combat platforms, two squads of Armature-class combat platforms, fourteen squadrons of Assault Drone-class combat platforms and one squad of Colossus-class combat platforms."

Marcus sighed, looking at Aria with a smirk. If the asari was capable of overcoming her own pride, she might have admitted she was impressed. Of course, that wasn't all there was to offer. He straightened, uncrossing his arms as he braced against the table again, "And that's not all. I made some other calls, sealed some deals. Urdnot Wrex has committed the 1st Aralakh Battalion, coming with a total of four hundred stormtroopers, one hundred heavy troopers and three hundred commandos. Led by the recently promoted Field Marshall Urdnot Grunt himself. You can also expect two of the rachni's most recently manufactured cruisers, along with three thousand rachni soldiers, fifteen thousand workers and thirty brood warriors."

"What the fuck?" Bray snapped, turning to Aria with a frown, "Did we just hand over the keys of this operation to the motherfucking UGC? That's what it seems like, Aria. They've taken over our fleet and our army. Will this be our victory or theirs, Aria?"

Dreg turned to Bray, pointing a finger straight at him, "You should be thankful, runt. What we've offered is more than army: its a legion. A legion with which to conquer Omega and defeat Petrovsky," he turned to Aria, lowering his finger as he began to whisper in her ear. Marcus couldn't make out what was being said, but he had no doubt Aria was in agreement as she nodded, finally standing up fully as Dreg backed away, bowing his head as if in reverence of her.

Finally, she spoke, clearing her throat as her fingers tapped idly at the table's surface, "We'll do it your way, Shepard."

Bray was flabbergasted, "Aria, this is Omega we're talking about!"

"Indeed, Bray," Aria replied with the utmost calm, dismissing his complaints with a sort of carelessness he'd come to expect from her at this point, "Which is exactly why I will be accepting help. Petrovsky is a force to be reckoned with, and Shepard was right about the forces we have: they don't mean shit. They have a better army, better troops, better positions, a better general. At least now we've evened the playing field. This is the play we need, Bray. This army and fleet will save Omega. As long as I get to kill Petrovsky myself, I don't care how Omega gets reclaimed as long as it fucking does. So," she waved a hand at Marcus, "We do it his way."

He smiled slightly, "You asked me to advise, so I advised. Not my fault you took so long to listen."

"This will, however, take time to prepare," Gerrel interrupted, wiping his mask off-handedly, "These forces will be assembled and the appropriate authorities notified. I can't just take these ships and disappear without somebody somewhere knowing."

"Agreed, we need to get this up and running. A day at least to make the appropriate preparations," Marcus declared, tapping the table, "So until then, I'll retire to the  _Normandy_ and inform my squad. I'll make sure they-"

Had Marcus not been concentrating, he might have seen the sudden flooding of light invading the darkness of their chamber: a sign that somebody had opened the door. It took four seconds for him to notice, and by that time the door had closed behind the new guest, those who tried to stop them had been ignored or pushed aside, and they were now firmly standing beside Marcus, looking up at them.

Marcus looked down at them, but it took him a few seconds to realize who he was looking at.

"I want in. Right now."

His eyes widened. He couldn't think of what to say except simply, "Jack?"

Jack rolled her eyes, punching him in the shoulder lightly, "I'm sure glad you haven't forgotten my name. So, can I join this little brigade or not?"

He looked about to question the woman when he simply shrugged, "I...don't see why not. I would ask how you knew about this meeting, but I can only guess somebody blabbed to you. I'm guessing you want in because Cerberus is involved?"

"Yeah. That, and my students need somebody to fight other than fucking Reapers," Jack replied, biting her lower lip, "They're tired and they're still recovering from our most recent shitshow on Dekuuna. They could do with a change of environment and enemies. Soldiers with guns are much easier to kill...especially when your teacher has made a passionate hobby out of slaughtering them."

He grinned at her, punching her shoulder lightly in return. He knew that if anyone else had done that, he would likely have been biotically thrown back. Luckily, he wasn't anyone else to Jack: he was a friend, "Glad your hatred for Cerberus hasn't ebbed."

"I'll never forget what they did to me. What they tried to do to my students on Grissom Academy, and to the people on the Citadel," she snarled, slamming a fist into the table, "If there's any killing of Cerberus to be done, I want to be a part of it. Fuck those fucking motherfuckers."

"This one has a mouth on her," Aria remarked, catching the attention of the psychotic biotic, "You must be Subject Zero. I've heard a lot about you. You're a Cerberus menace."

Jack snapped to look at the asari, growling intensely, "Don't  _ever_ fucking call me by that name. It's  _Jack_ , bitch. And I'd prefer the wording to be: I'm a menace to Cerberus. Because that's what I am. I'm rolling around on the Illusive Man love train, especially the carrage that involves tearing him limb from limb the first chance I get."

To nobody's surprise, Jack's reaction only caused Aria to smirk, "Very well. Anyone that pissed off at Cerberus is somebody I want on this army."

"No argument from me," Marcus stated in agreement, turning back to Jack while patting her shoulder, "It'll be good working alongside you again."

Jack smirked up at him, the most warm he'd seen out of her in ages, "It feels fucking great."

**{Loading...}**

_August 1, 2186_

_1310 hours._

_Security Deck, East Wing, Polyphemus Facility, Sanctum._

_The Reaper War._

_Private Second Class Delan Tidey._

A long, almost empty, hallway, stretching out easily over a dozen or so meters, walled in by blue-silver walls on the right. At one end, a doorway with the usual golden hexagon insignia of the Cerberus organization, the door itself a white and gold that didn't match with the walls or the overall interior, which was mostly silvery blue: over the doorway was the words 'Storage Room'. At the end of the hallway, to the right of the door, another door, this one unlocked and leading out to a shuttle area, five landing pads built into its surface, along with several crates of cargo that, as of yet, had been left uncollected. The landing pad would allow for a fantastic view of the Polyphemus facility in its entirety, stretching out across five whole kilometers along Sanctum's snowy and barren surface.

To the left, several meters before the door at the end, there was a stairway leading down to the Science Deck, where all the central laboratories were located: a place where all the Cerberus brain trust were likely cooped up at every given moment, devising whatever it was they devised that helped Cerberus keep up the technological monopoly they had. At the other end of the hallway was another stairway that led up to the rest of the Security Deck, where the facility's barracks were located, along with the Polyphemus garrison. The upper decks were dedicated to the servers and main reactor was located, and the uppermost deck was known as the docks, where any visiting Cerberus vessels larger than a shuttle or gunship could land, along with an airstrip for fighters, bombers and interceptors.

Polyhemus may have been a science installation, but it wasn't without its military purposes, and with the nearby Omega, as well as the Titan project, all within the Terminus Systems, Sanctum was the perfect location for Cerberus ships to land, resupply and leave. Only bad thing was the unbareable weather. And with the majority of the planet under Cerberus occupation, Polyphemus could operate with almost total impunity. A perfect place for the eggheads and geeks to experiment and torture whatever and whoever they wanted.

Private Second Class Delan Tidey, patrolling said hallway, was a result of such experiments, after all.

He hadn't always been a Cerberus assault trooper. He hadn't always been a soldier, full stop. He hadn't worn armor, carried a mattock heavy rifle or weapon of any sort other than a wrench, and he most certainly had not been a fan or supporter of Cerberus or any pro-human agenda. He had been just like any other human: wanting to lead an ordinary life, without interruption, peacefully and without interference. But ever since the war began in 2186 CE, that life had been torn from Delan, never to be returned.

The Delan Tidey of today was not who he had been. He had once been a resident of Horizon, specifically the Grandeur colony. An expert on skycars and numerous other non-military vehicles, he had been the colony's official mechanic, and a good one at that. He had been one of the few survivors that escaped the claws of the Collectors when they attacked in 2185 CE, where he had even met Commander Shepard in person; of course, he hadn't been too grateful.

How he'd give up everything to see the man save him now.

One abduction Delan hadn't survived was Cerberus. Just before the beginning of the Reaper invasion, Delan and the rest of the colonists had been victims of a Cerberus attack on Horizon, where he was abducted with the rest. The rest after that was a story of torture and experimentation, leading to him eventually joining the ranks of the Cerberus army. He was now just another foot soldier of the Illusive Man: no memory of his past other than a pre-programmed patriotism to the Illusive Man, the Cerberus ideals and humanity itself. He was as irrelevant as the other names in the Cerberus military.

The only acknowledgement of his existence was the thud of his footsteps on the steel floor, the creak of his armor shifting and rubbing together, the click of his rifle as he, every once and again, flicked the safety on and off and the stutter of his radio as comms chatter between soldiers could be heard through his helmet. He continued his patrol of the Security Deck, looking around almost absently, his mind clearly wanting a threat to appear so he could follow his programming and kill some xenos.

He heard footsteps come around the corner, but when he turned his head, he only saw two more assault troopers, flanking behind a scientist in the uniform of Cerberus' science division, a datapad under one arm while she tapped at her omni-tool, mumbling to herself. She didn't even acknowledge Delan as she walked past him, and neither did the troopers, all three of them walking down the steps and onto the Science Deck, uncaring of their comrade. Delan did the same, turned back and continued his patrol.

Only to stop when he heard banging. And not consistent banging: multiple bangs. One, then another, then more...echoing through the walls, sounding nearby and yet distant. Delan didn't waste time and raised his rifle, pointing directly at the doorway. The banging continued, and the soldier realized that it wasn't banging...it was gunfire. The electronic shouting of his compatriots could be heard, so he keyed his radio, reaching the nearest centurion, "Sir, this is Tidey. We've got gunfire coming from the storage compartment. Request backup to investigate, over. Be advised: possible insurgent presence."

The centurion was quick to respond, as they always were, "Solid copy. Dispatching Lima to your location."

"Copy," Tidey replied in his usual monotone, before turning back to the door. It didn't take him long before he realized the gunfire had stopped. His grip tightened on his mattock, eyes downrange as his finger lay on the trigger. He had no idea what awaited him behind that door. Either his comrades had successfully dealt with the threat, or the threat had dealt with them...either way...

A thud was heard, and he frowned: the sound had come from the door. He frowned as he began to move forward slowly, making sure to check his sectors. He motioned his weapon down into the shuttle bay and, content there was no threat coming from that angle, he turned back to the doorway.

A white flash flooded his vision as he was physically lifted from the ground and thrown backward violently, a wave of heat washing over him as he became to land on the ground, rolling onto his belly. He had long dropped his weapon, the weapon nowhere to be found in his grip and he didn't hear it land either. He groaned, feeling wet and sticky blood begin to pool from an area around his chest, but oddly feeling no sensation other than the blood leaving his body. His right arm was twisted at an unusual angle, and Delan concluded it was broken: once again, no pain greeted him from the severe injury. As he rolled over, he noticed smoke was filling the room, bright orange and red colors leaking into his right peripherals. Smoke alarms blared across the deck, Delan concluding that a bomb must have detonated.

He lifted the hand of his unmaimed arm had felt around the bleeding area, finding a shard of metal sticking out from his chest, the force of the blast likely causing it to tear through his medium armor. The entire bottom half of his torso was soaked in blood by this point, but Delan took gratitude in knowing that it was saving him from further bleed out by clotting the wound. He started coughing up blood, licking his lips to clear it away as he tried to contact the centurion to alert him of the possible rebel raid. More than likely it was the Sanctum populace rebelling against Cerberus rule. But Delan knew how fruitless such a rebellion would be: Cerberus would crush such a thing in mere minutes...a couple hours at maximum.

His legs twitched as they tried to move, while Delan desperately tried to reach his centurion overseer on the radio, only to be met with crackle: more than likely his radio was damaged Smoke alarms continued to blare, and Delan finally turned to the right to see flames licking at the former door, the remnants of the doors twisted and jammed into the wall, the rest scattered in shreds of metal littered across the floor, marring its surface.

Multiple thuds could be heard, Delan turning to see four assault troopers from Lima arrive, their weapons raised. One of them spared him a glance, before motioning two of the troopers forward to investigate. They gingerly stepped over him, ignoring Delan completely, who reached out a hand to them, almost begging for assistance. But all the lead trooper did was shout orders, the other three complying and completely ignoring him. Delan let his arm fall, clearly not getting the attention he needed to survive.

He turned to the flames, watching the two troopers approach the flames, flanking each side of the doorway, careful to make sure they weren't ambushed or outflanked, even turning on flashlights to see into the darkened storage room, the power obviously having been switched off by whoever had decided to attack Polyphemus.

Four gunshots echoed out, and Delan literally blinked once, opening his eyes to find all four troopers on the ground, dead. The soldier shouting orders, along with the trooper next to him, had collapsed onto the stairs, weapons landing on their chests. The two troopers investigating the doorway had fallen forward in numerous positions of limbness. Between all four of them, headshots had been the cause of death; holes drilled through the foreheads of their helmets, blood leaking out of the wounds.

Delan kept watching the doorway as blue energy suddenly surged through the storage doorway, dousing the flames almost immediately with the sheer kinetic energy. With several hisses the flames died, the smoke alarms continuing to blare as what smoke remained hung in the air, reducing the visibility, even with the lights on. Despite this, Delan could not mistake the lithe form of a human woman stepping through the doorway, body washed in biotics, the dark energy leaking from her as it evaporated. A single phalanx heavy pistol rested in her grip, and she stalked towards him with a sort of swagger only a person who was confident in what they were doing could have. She was, as far as he could tell, alone, with no one following her through the doorway. Her hips swayed from side to side, and her otherwise curvaceous body was thickened by what looked to be light body armor, no particular insignia or logo on it to identify her with.

She stopped beside him, looking over the stairway, not seeming to notice him. Another moan left Delan's lips, and she finally took notice, looking down at him with an almost quizzical expression. With a shake of her head, she raised her pistol, took aim at Delan's face, and pulled the trigger.

Miranda Lawson lowered the pistol, grabbing a fresh thermal clip from her hip and slotting it into the weapon. She flicked her head to the side, reaching up a hand to curl her long, slender black hair behind her right ear. Her other wise pleasant features had a flick of red blood dripping down her cheek. She was unused to wearing armor, but found a sort of comfort in wearing it, even if it was the courtesy of the Systems Intelligence Administration. She kicked at the dead soldier she had just killed, a hole in his head where his nose likely had been. She had been quick and efficient, without hesitation.

_I managed to kill four assault troopers in just a second. I've still got it._

She may not have been as perfect as she was previously brought up to believe, but she was a near perfect shot with a pistol.

_Time to find out what this facility has for me._

Polyphemus hadn't been hard to find for Miranda. The facility was kilometers in height and length, and it stood out amongst the otherwise barren and lifeless surface of Sanctum. Getting in had been the challenge, but after hijacking a Cerberus kodiak shuttle and managing to get herself some access codes, getting into the facility had been too easy. Of course, what hope she had of a stealthy infiltration had been dashed with that explosion.

_Shouldn't have used that C7, but I needed to get through that door and the security here is tougher than I thought it would be. Guess they must be hiding something important here._

Wiping the blood on her cheek away, she turned back to the stairway, noticing the sign engraved on the floor that said 'Science Deck.' Knowing that is where she wanted to go, she raised her pistol and jogged down the stairs, advancing towards the doorway at the very bottom: exactly where she needed to go.

Miranda's mission, despite working as a contracted agent for the SIA, remained the same: she would find her sister, Oriana. She just knew her father was involved, but she also knew Cerberus was involved: after all, only the Illusive Man had known where Oriana had been taken after rescuing her on Illium a year ago, and her father had joined Cerberus shortly after Shepard was imprisoned, so it stood to reason the Illusive Man had reason to abduct Oriana for her father, especially if he wanted revenge for Miranda defecting to Shepard's cause and 'betraying' Cerberus.

Either way, she just knew she'd find information on her whereabouts. Henry Lawson was anything but subtle, and his loud mouth meant he couldn't stop himself from gloating about his prize, especially one so 'important' to him as one of his experiments in establishing a legacy of perfection.

_I will find you, Oriana. Worry not of that, but what I'm going to do to father when I find him._

Miranda sneered somewhat at that thought, wondering and worried just whether or not her father actually had Oriana, and what he had done to her since abducting her if he did. Experimentation? Or perhaps he had already managed to create the 'perfect' daughter, and had decided to 'decommission' her...

She discarded such thoughts, focusing entirely on the mission before her. Her weapon gripped tightly and her eyes ever scanning to ensure none of the defenders got the jump on her, she descended the steps, reaching the door at the bottom. Turning, she backed into a wall on the side, holstering her pistol as she got out her omni-tool and began to access the terminal infront of her. Utilizing the same virus she had used to access the facility's access codes, she managed to brute force her way into the facility's mainframe, giving her access to what she needed to shut down: alarms and surveillance.

Sure, it was likely she'd already been spotted by surveillance by now, but any further compromizations of her cover would increase her chances of success...especially if the enemy wasn't aware of her  _exact_ whereabouts within the facility, or her destination.

_Of course, I wouldn't have to worry about surveillance if Shepard and his squad were here. We could just storm the place and take what we need..._

As she hit that final command for the local security cameras to shut down, she couldn't help but smile warmly at the sentiment. She missed the squad, including the  _Normandy_  itself, as she had ever since having to leave the ship. But she had spent her time well, doing her best to prepare the galaxy for the Reapers. But Cerberus had been relentless in their search for her, the Illusive Man no doubt wanting her dead because of the security risk she posed. Of course, having been ex-Cerberus, Miranda had managed to evade them at every turn: her deadly game of cat and mouse proving to favour her side. All she had to do was run from place to place, all while doing her best to fullfill her promise to Shepard of getting ready for the inevitable invasion that was now upon them.

And then Cerberus abducted her sister. Or, to better put it, her  _father_ , now working for Cerberus, had abducted her. Miranda had been evading a group of Cerberus assassins in the Attican Traverse when she had received the news from Oriana's parents, telling her that Oriana had gone out one night to a friend's birthday party and never returned. Almost immediately, Miranda had figured out it was Cerberus: she had no concrete evidence, but it had to be them. How better to get the defector out of hiding and into the opening than to lay a trap they couldn't possibly refuse?

It was cold and calculating. It was something the Illusive Man was fully capable of doing. Hell, it was something Miranda would have done, back when she was the 'ice queen'.

_Guess I still am, just without the pro-human agenda to go with it._

But with the Illusive Man and Henry Lawson now warming up to each other and Oriana in Cerberus custody, Miranda was in serious trouble. Her father was an egotistical bastard intent on creating an army of genetically perfect 'daughters' out of test tubes until he established his eternal legacy: combine that with the leader of a powerful paramilitary organization with a vast wealth of resources and manpower, and you've got a recipe for bloody catastrophe.

She cursed as she turned to the door infront of her, checking her motion tracker for movement beyond it. There was none. She gripped her pistol more tightly, holding it up until it was level with her head, tapping the haptic interface and ignoring the irritating wail of alarms as she stepped through the door into another hallway, quickly closing it behind her and taking cover behind a pair of crates to her left so she could assess her new environment. With a final tap on her omni-tool, she locked the door, making sure any pursuers would have a hard time following her.

She gritted her teeth in anger, shaking her head.  _Can't believe him. He gave me safe harbor from my father by letting me join Cerberus, and now he's working right alongside him. How long have they been working together? Was it the Illusive Man who helped my father find Oriana whilst under the guise of a helpful beneficiary? How long has he been stabbing me in the back? I thought I knew the man behind Cerberus. The man behind the cause. Perhaps I've been feeding myself a lie the whole time._

The Illusive Man's current military operations and failed invasion of the Citadel had shown just how much the man had truly fallen. He had to be stopped.

But for now, Miranda needed to find Oriana. And fast.

Polyphemus facility was hardly new fruit. Built in the 2170s as an eezo processing plant run by Dick-Wolf Energy, the facility on Sanctum survived until early 2180, when demand for the facility's eezo began to plummet: not only was Dick-Wolf's prices too exorbitant compared to its rival, Eldfell-Ashland, but it was also in shorter and shorter supply, which meant Dick-Wolf was unable to keep up with the demand. Eventually, to save their company, Dick-Wolf sold most of their eezo processing facilities, including the one on Sanctum. Specifically, the company that bought the Sanctum facility was none other than Haribon Military Industries, one of many of Cerberus' front corporations.

Under the guise of a Haribon operation, Cerberus quickly refurbished the facility to their needs, and so Polyphemus was secretly commissioned by late 2180. Polyphemus was turned, inside and out, into a facility run jointly by the scientific and military wings of the organization. Apparently, it had grown even larger by the time of the Reaper War, likely by order of the Illusive Man himself. Now Polyphemus was a military-industrial supercomplex, pumping out scientific abominations for Cerberus to use seemingly in their war against everyone. There was no doubt that Polyphemus needed to be shut down, and there was no doubt her father would have used this facility for much of whatever research he using Cerberus' resources to carry out.

She was here to do one and find out the other.

She hadn't come alone: she had deployed with two squads of SIA operatives, dressed for combat and coming with enough explosives to deal with the facility. Cerberus had to be dealt as many blows as possible, and they would make sure of that. The facility's central reactor was located deep within, but with Miranda's loud noises and distractions, it would give them plenty of opportunity to penetrate deep within and reach their goal. While they blew the reactor, Miranda would find what information she needed: they would link up again, exfill and then make for the atmosphere before the detonation undoubtably tore the facility apart.

_Don't want to be here when they blow that reactor, and they certainly aren't going to wait around for me, so I better find this intel quick and get the hell out of dodge._

She peaked up over the crate she hid behind to see if anyone was coming: if Cerberus were aware of her location, they weren't trying very hard to stop her: None of the doors, left or directly ahead, opened once, and from what her omni-tool was telling her, she hadn't tripped any silent alarms: at least not the ones where omni-tool picked up. So either they were laying a trap, or...

_Or the SIA are causing a lot more of a ruckus than I am which, in that case, is a boon for me. Less resistance the better._

She shot up, holding her pistol still, only for the door to her left to shoot open. Her head snapped to look at the incoming bogies, finding a centurion, leading at least a dozen assault troopers and two guardians, moving through the door. The centurion immediately spotted her, yelling at his men to open fire. Weapons were raised, fingers on triggers.

Miranda assessed the situation very quickly in that moment.  _Too many for me to take on. Biotics...still too many for them to be effective. Likelihood of reinforcements would be high. Likely already alerted the rest of the facility._

She made her decision.

_To hell with it._

She sprinted for the door, a hail of projectiles flying through the area she had been standing a mere second ago, filling the nearby wall with holes. She slapped the haptic interface and rolled through the door, quickly spinning on the spot and aiming her omni-tool at the junction box, a single command sent straight to it: the same one she had been using for the rest.

Footsteps were heard as the door slammed shut with a thud, the haptic interface turning crimson and beeping repeatedly as the troopers likely beat at it out of frustration. Orders were being shouted, and from what Miranda could hear, the centurion had indeed alerted the rest of the facility to her presence. Part of the plan regardless, but still annoying nonetheless.

Turning to look down the corridor she was in, she found a large hallway stretching out over a hundred meters. At the end of the hallway was a sign she couldn't read, but knowing this was the science deck, it likely led to the labs. The right side of the wall was made entirely of bulletproof observation windows, allowing a clear view of the bitterly horrid environment outside, grey snow dropping in large clumps, coating the mountains that Polyphemus was built into and making the area look like it had survived the aftermath of a volcanic eruption. Suffice to say, it was not a pretty look, and Miranda tore her eyes away to focus down the hallway.

_Okay, the labs. That would be our best bet. Classified information, confidential files, all their dirty little secrets...my father no doubt left quite the breadcrumb trail there. The question is...how to get in there? No doubt security will be tighter here than anywhere else, and with that centurion knowing where I am, they'll have caught onto my plan and will likely initiate a lockdown._

_The fuck am I standing here for then? Move, woman!_

She sprinted down the hallway as a voice came over the PA, likely the director of Polyphemus. It was a deep male voice, although it sounded slightly croaky. Without a doubt, given their voice was normal, they weren't the average Cerberus trooper, "We have an intruder in the base. All combat units, I am raising the alert level to Level Omega. This is not a drill. All available combat units will report to the science deck to deal with the intruder. I repeat, all combat units will report to Science to dispatch the security threat. Target is of unknown affiliation, but presume UGC involvement. Target will likely be heavily armed, and has a firm knowledge of our security protocols, so make sure combat engineers are evenly distributed. The Science Deck will remain on lockdown until the all clear is given. Director Eastman out."

_Shit. Got to move!_

As the director's words finished, the lighting changed to a blinding white, temporarily causing her to lose focus before she remained momentum. She tripped on one of her feet, causing her to fall to one knee with a wince. Growling, she got back up and continued her mad dash for the laboratories, the sign now legible and confirming her suspicions. Alarms began to sound as a VI spoke, "Main Laboratory lockdown in accordance with emergency alert level Omega. Remain calm and stay at your stations. Director Eastman has initiated a level Omega alert..."

_Shut. The. Hell. UP!_

Just as she reached the end of the hallway, a security bulkhead began to lower at an alarming rate. Angry, she summoned her biotics and wrapped them around the door, forcing it up and holding it there as she closed the distance between her and the door. With a grunt, she slid under the door, biotics dimming. She gasped as the door suddenly and without warning slammed into the ground like a guillotine, loud screaming metal being heard as bolts and latches moved into place, locking the thick blast door into place: she swore she also heard the sound of plastic being crushed, but dismissed it as she took in her new surroundings. Standing up, she took a moment to regain her breath, before raising her pistol to check her ammo.

Only to realize she no longer had it.

She turned back, looking down at the ground as her shoulders slumped, witnessing the remains of her phalanx pistol scattered on the ground, shattered into pieces like bits of glass. She realized that sound she had heard was the door landing on her pistol as she dropped it to summon her biotics, crushing it under its enormous weight of a few tons. She cursed her recklessness, realizing she now only had her biotics to protect herself.

Fortunately and unfortunately for her, the door to the labs happened behind her, and a few footsteps were heard.

She spun around, biotics immediately summoned as she sent a biotic flare slamming into the unwanted visitor, the assault trooper atomized from top to bottom in the resulting blast. His rifle clattered at her side; a Mattock heavy rifle.

_Ergh, I hate rifles. But I do need a weapon._

With a sigh, she leaned down and picked up the rifle, ignoring the hiss of burnt metal and the smell of sizzling blood and gore as the remains of the trooper almost literally painted the walls around her with a foul odour and the undesirable sound of melting body parts. What was left of his torso slid down the side of a wall to thump on the ground, an ever increasing pool of the former human's liquids pooling out across the floor.

_I hate using flare. Always leaves a mess._

Picking up the rifle, she shouldered it, familiar with how to use the weapon because of her experience on the Collector Base: the squad had been taught how to use every kind of weapon, making sure they were far more versatile and adaptable as a team. Rifles still felt awkward to use though, with the idea of a shoulder stock completely alien to someone who prefers pistols and SMGs. Still she managed to get it into a comfortable spot, and checked the magazine.

_60 rounds. Should do fine. Almost a full clip._

Looking up, she carefully walked through the doorway, trying her best to minimalize the amount of blood she stepped in, although doing so was an inevitable task. By the time she cleared the door, the bottom of her soles were caked in the stuff, and some had dripped from the ceiling into her hair, making her feel like she had just walked through a sewer drain, the warm stickiness of it unpleasant and most of all, unwanted.

 _I'll probably need a warm shower after all this. Or two. Depends how many I need to get the stench off._ And make no mistake, the stench was  _bad._

_No idea how Shepard managed to make a career out of this. All this destruction, death...he'd have to be made of tougher stuff than most others._

_Of course he is. He's Commander bloody Shepard. He's got the flippance of a fellow Aussie, the knowledge of weapons that comes with being a Yank, and the stone cold determination of a Pom. He_ _**is** _ _made of tougher stuff than the rest of us._

She did a quick scan of the immediate area before slowly lowering her weapon, taking in her surroundings. The area was clear due to the lockdown, and she took a moment to assess where she was. A few desks lay cluttered around, datapads still open and active, streaming data at an insane pace, terminals switched on and switched off all over the place. Most of the chairs were knocked over or twisted at weird angles, suggesting a recent evacuation of the entire lab: likely due to the lockdown. As she moved along, the same could be said for the practical laboratories and the few test chambers she came across along the front area. Frowning, she moved into the adjacent corridor, checking both sides before heading left, moving towards the sign pointing towards the Experimentation and Technology wing.

She had a nagging feeling what she wanted would be in there.

A few more twist and turns greeted her every move until she finally came across a short hallway containing three doors: a blast door directly ahead, one on the left and one on the right: all three of them were labelled in order going clockwise from the front door: ExperLab 1, ExperLab 2 and ExperLab 3. She could hear numerous voices from within, including a few electronic warbles that had to be Cerberus soldiers.

_I can hear one female voice, so that's either a nemesis or a phantom. Must be careful though...no idea what else could be in that room. Anything from a standard assault trooper to those pain in the ass dragoons..._

She raised her rifle, slowly moving forward while keeping eyes downrange and focused on the tridoors. One hand remained firmly near the trigger, and she did her best to mask her footsteps so that her presence wasn't given a way; the more of a surprise she got them in, the better equipped she would be to dismantle them.

_All I need is to gain access to that database...see what they have, and where they're keeping Oriana..._

She got close enough to the door to hear what they were saying now, keeping one ear close enough to hear every word with clarity.

"Eastman wants the whole sector locked down. Nothing is getting in or out," one soldier stated, clearly a centurion based on their authoritive demeanour.

"But we have delicate work in here, work the Illusive Man ordered himself!" a female, likely one of the scientists, objected, voice hoarse and desperate, sounding somewhat elderly, "There is months of work on these computers! If the intruder gets their hands on them, tampers with them in anyway...the Illusive Man will have your head and mine!"

"Nothing will get damaged and the intruder won't get any further than the blast door outside," the centurion replied again almost casually, as if sure he had the situation under control, "That blast door is too thick for any explosive: you'd need a Cain to blow through it, or a thousand Hydra missiles. Security will find the intruder, take them out and business will return to normal. Now sit down doctor, before you give yourself heart burn."

"Lifeless pieces of trash!" Another scientist shouted angrily, a loud thud being heard. A gasp of pain was heard, likely from the scientist, either because he was punched or because he made the mistake of punching the soldier's armor, "All you know to do is to follow orders! No adaptability whatsoever! Our commandos could have done better then you. Who were you? Probably just some random colonist! Yeah, let's supplement semi-trained and capable commandos with colonists we outfitted with cybernetics, slapped some armor on, gave a weapon and told them to fight Reapers for us. Yeah, great idea."

"Simon, sssshhhh!" another scientist pleaded, a second female, "If you anything like that again, they'll kill you!"

"Cut the chatter," the centurion snapped, "I want absolute silence until this matter is resolved. Until then, shut your mouths and stay put. This'll soon blow over and you can continue...whatever it is you do."

"We reverse engineer Reaper technology," the man named Simon sarcastically stated in response, "The same shit that led to freaks like you being made."

A crunch and a cry of surprise was heard, followed by a thud.

"Simon!" one woman cried out. A moment later, another male scientist spoke up, sounding angry, "What the hell!?"

"I told you to shut up. Now shut the fuck up or you'll be next in line for a broken nose," the centurion replied firmly, and any further objections were silenced...at least from what Miranda could hear.

_Good, they don't know I'm here. Time for a little surprise._

Her hand reached down to her hip to grab one of the two pieces of C7 she had left. Pulling it away, she strapped it to the first door, before strapping the second next to it for good measure. Making sure they were primed, she quickly ran back down the corridor, reaching the end and taking cover behind one of the walls, ducking into a crouch. Without waiting another second, she thumbed the detonator.

Twin explosions blew the door apart, tearing it off its hinges and sending it flying inwards to shred its occupants. Smoke coughed up into the air, the blast wave sending it cascading down the hallway, impacting Miranda and causing her to splutter from the sheer intensity of it. Her eyes watered as she stood up and moved deeper into the cloud, eventually reaching the doorway where a large blaze was brewing from the blast, quickly spreading across half the room. Alarms began to sound, but they weren't smoke klaxons: they knew she was here. She had to be quick.

The nemesis had been killed in the explosion, buried under a large piece of what was once the right part of the door. Seven scientists lay dead, including who she presumed to be Simon, who's entire right side was on fire, likely having been consumed in the blast. A female lay ontop of him, a piece of metal having impaled her through the back and speared her to him, her body also engulfed in flames and unrecognizable.

Five other scientists had been killed in the blast as well, with only one looking to have survived. Unlike the nemesis, the two assault troopers, one combat engineer and one centurion had been unharmed, although they were staggered and unable to put up a fight.

Ruthlessly and without really thinking about it, she raised her rifle, snapped to her targets, and put them down, one by one, with shots to the back of the head. It was so methodical that within mere seconds, all the surviving Cerberus troopers were dead, the back of their skulls exposed from being blown apart by the high-powered rounds of the mattock. Miranda was also surprised by the recoil on the weapon, having to bite back numerous grunts with each shot due to the kickback.

Silence fell upon the room as Miranda lowered the rifle, taking the time to loot the dead bodies of the fallen troopers for thermal clips and grenades, of which she found many, taking as much as she could handle. When she was done, she turned back around, ready to begin her search through the database for the information she wanted.

Only to have an epiphany and realize she had neglected the one other survivor of the room, who now had his shaking hand raised up, pistol with it, aimed at her head.

"Drop it, bitch!" the scientist shouted, hand still shaking uncontrollably. He brought up his other hand to stabilize the shaking one, but it did next to nothing, "Put down the weapon, strip the armor and get on your back! Do it now!"

She paid him no mind as she biotically grabbed the pistol and wrenched it from his weak palms, throwing it across the room. The now defenseless scientist stood flabbergasted at what had just occurred, getting no time to act when Miranda closed the gap between them and clocked him across the face with the butt of her rifle, breaking his nose and sending him reeling to the ground in pain and shouting curses, blood pooling from his nostrils. He continued to wreathe around in agony, and Miranda raised her rifle once more, ready to finish the job.

Then it occurred to her.

_Why search through the database when I have him to tell me?_

Judging by his uniform, something Miranda had seen many times throughout her career in Cerberus, the scientist was of senior rank, and therefore would be privy to highly classified information. What if he knew where Oriana was?

A few more seconds of contemplation, and she nodded inwardly to herself, although the gun did not lower, Miranda not trusting the scientist to not attempt to make a lunge for her.

_Interrogation it is then._

"Stop screaming or I'll kill you right here, right now," she snapped at the man, who was continuing to be hysterical. Apparently however, he had heard her words and the venom behind them, because he almost immediately stopped moving, shoving himself back against a wall, hands over his head in sheer terror.

"Stupid bitch, you broke my nose!" the scientist growled, pinching said nose only to cough and splutter as he choked down another screech, "You're in big fucking trouble, you dumb whore! You have no id-" he opened his eyes and looked up at her, seeming to finally recognize her, "Wait...you're..."

"Lawson, if you please," Miranda smirked down at him, surmizing correctly that the more sadistic she looked, the more likely he would be to break, "Bitch is such a pejorative."

He sat there, shocked, for several moments before finally laughing, the sound strained and full of discomfort, "You made a big mistake coming here. Director Eastman will enjoy reaping the rewards of killing you. You're one of the Illusive Man's most wanted, you fucking traitor."

Miranda sent a simple biotic ripple at the man, causing him to stiffen against the wall, but also cry out from the sudden seizure of his limbs. He growled, bitting down on his tongue as blood began to dribble down his lips. He spat it at her, eyes full of malice.

She remained unchanged, smiling smugly all the way, "That's the Illusive Man's loss. He lost his way, forgot what Cerberus was about. Protecting and serving humanity."

"That's  _exactly_ what we stand for!"

"A convenient lie," she spat back, stepping forward until the barrel of her rifle connected with his forehead, "But why do I care? What happens within Cerberus is no longer my concern. My only concern is defeating the Reapers...and finding my sister."

The man just frowned at her, and when she said nothing further, he spoke once more, no longer yelling or full of vitriol, "The fuck are you looking at me for? Cerberus is doing what it has to to defeat the Reapers, but in our own way. As for your sister...why do I give a fuck?"

"Cerberus took her," she snarled, making sure he knew full well that a rifle was aimed and ready to fire into his skull, "I know my father is working with the Illusive Man. I know he's using Cerberus to further his insane ends. My father wants Oriana, and now she's disappeared; I know your organization is responsible."

He scoffed, shuffling into a more comfortable position, his legs tucked up against his chest in a near fetal position, "And if Cerberus was into the kidnapping business, why should I care? You're a traitor. If your sister has to pay for your indiscretions and treason, then so be it. Maybe if you beg forgiveness, the Illusive Man might just pardon you and, at the  _very least_ , grant you a quick, painless execution and, with some clemency, let your sister go. But only if you hand yourself in."

She smiled, shaking her head, "You must know the Illusive Man very poorly. Do you even remember Paul Grayson? I'm a threat. He's not going to risk letting me live. He'll kill me and let my father keep Oriana for his own ends. No...I'm not handing myself in. Every bridge has been burnt, and I'm going to make sure Cerberus burns with it. Whatever this organization once stood for...it's gone now. You don't fight for humanity, you fight against it. You fight against the whole galaxy."

"We fight for the greater good," the scientist claimed, gritting his teeth, "You can't see that, nobody can. Cerberus has always been about doing what others are too morally virtuous to do. We shed blood so the pacifists don't have to. We assassinate leaders others are too afraid to. We run the experiments others are too restricted to. Everything we do, every little move...there's always a higher purpose. We're no religion. We're an NGO. We are humanity's sword. The unwanted ally, the necessary mediator."

_The Cerberus motto._

"I don't give a shit what you believe. I'm not here to win an argument with you," she shook her head, motioning to the lab around her, "I'm here for my sister. I demand to know where Cerberus is keeping her."

"That's it? You broke into this high-security facility and risked death all to find out where your fucking sister is?" the scientist began to chortle, his laugh an annoying cacophony of coughs and gurgles, almost resembling the sound someone makes when they cry rather than a sound given out of amusement, "You stupid whore."

_I pity that nose of his._

She whipped him in the face again, the man screaming in pain as his already broken nose received another blunt force impact, turning already stinging pain into flaring agony. He flopped to the ground, cradling the broken appendage, screeching profanities at her like a wounded animal on its last legs.

"If you say a single word more that isn't about the location of my sister, I will make sure you die a slow, painful death. You won't get any clemency from me," she growled, kicking him in the chest for added measure. The wind practically flew from his lungs as he gasped, eyes closed and tears forming at his eyes, "You think you're experiencing pain? That's nothing. I'm a biotic, and I can think of many ways to inflict some severe agony with them. How about a nice reave? Ever felt your organs liquify and pop inside you as blood fills your mouth and lungs? Would you like to? It's not very funny, especially for those I've used it on."

"Fuck! FUCK!" he cried out, holding up his hands, "Pl-pl-please! Don't, please! I'll-I'll talk! Whatever you need to know about this facility, I'll-"

"I don't give a shit about your fucking facility!" she snarled, kicking him again, "WHERE. IS. MY. SISTER!?"

"I don't know!" he shouted desperately, waving his hands at her as if they would act like a shield if she decided to hurt or kill him, "Why the fuck would I know!? I'm just a goddamn scientist! I don't know anything beyond my cell. Why the hell would I know anything about a single individual!?"

_He does raise a good point. Still, he must know at least something._

Luckily, she wouldn't have to go asking. The scientist sat up, still holding his nose as red blood crusted around his chin and lower cheeks, making him look like he had been drinking a whole tub of the stuff. He licked his lips, wincing at the coppery taste, before hurriedly talking, voice hyper and desperate to feed his captor information in return for a possible extension of his lifespan, "I-wait! I can give you information on your father though! Henry Lawson, right? Yeah, I know him! I worked as part of his project! I know what he's doing."

She raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by his proposition.  _Well, it's a start. Besides, where my father goes, my sister won't be far behind, especially if I'm correct and Cerberus is holding her._

She lowered the weapon slightly, motioning for him to continue, "I'm listening. No riddles. Give me the information I need to know. Specifics, too."

"Keyhold. He's working as part of Operation: Keyhold," the scientist declared, gulping audibly, "I used to work as part of resource operations. The Illusive Man has devoted a lot of our resources to it: it's our largest operation yet. I got transferred here after the failed attack on the Citadel; no idea why, but I don't ask questions. But while I worked there, we were frequently visited via QEC by your father. He's the director of the whole thing. Said the Illusive Man had entrusted him with the delicacy involved with the project."

 _Now_ she was interested.  _Keyhold? The SIA has picked up mentions of that on Cerberus channels before. That's it, though: only mentions. Cerberus has always been very good at compartmentalization, and whatever cell has been dedicated to Keyhold must be well hidden. Strange the Illusive Man would redirect an asset so well versed in the project to a less secure cell...he was always cautious, never arrogant._

"Keyhold?" she asked, "What is Keyhold? Is it a weapons program? More experiments? What is Cerberus doing with Keyhold? Where is it?"

He shook his head, "It doesn't work like that, you should know that! Keyhold isn't just one location, it's spread over numerous installations. Those who worked at said facilities only knew about their designated station; prevented security leaks. Couldn't risk the UGC finding out about it or where it was headquarted."

"But you're going to tell me," she smiled.

He sighed, rubbing his head, "That's...the thing. I don't actually know where Keyhold is located. I know my specific facility, but that's it. Your father may have communicated with us over QEC, but noone on the project ever asked where he was or where our resources and work was going. It was all very hush-hush. Your father could be anywhere!"

She gritted her teeth angrily, biting back a retort.  _At least I know what my father is working on. Now I can begin to pay more attention to this Keyhold. If I can find where its headquarted, I bet I'll find Oriana._

_But what is Keyhold?_

"What is it?" she asked as her final question, "What is Keyhold?"

"I couldn't tell you because I don't know," he shrugged, "Like I said, I worked in resource operations. The military would raid a few worlds, collect some technology. We'd scrub it, pick apart and find what we need, and then it would be shipped off to an unknown location...likely to Lawson himself. We had no clue what it was for, no idea why they wanted it, and we had no idea where it went. All we know is that it had to be something big...the Illusive Man wouldn't have invested so much time and money on it if he wasn't positive of its success."

She lowered her weapon, cursing her luck.  _I came all this way...only to learn about this. Well, I guess it's a start._

The backup radio in her armor crackled and she turned to the scientist, nodding for him to stay put and to not try anything. He gave no answer as she answered the radio, switching to the necessary channel, "Lawson here."

The head operative in charge of the SIA squad, Mao Kee, spoke through the radio, voice tired, "Charges have been placed on the main reactor and we're oscar mike for the landing zone. Sitrep."

She nodded, "Copy that. Didn't get exactly what I wanted, but I've found out more about this Operation Keyhold. Turns out it's bigger than we thought. Might be worth a look."

"How big?" he asked in return, clearly intrigued.

"Huge, if this scientist is to be believed," she stated, "Enough for the Illusive Man to commit. Given my experience with him, the last time he fully committed to something was the Lazarus project: the one where he resurrected Shepard. If it's anything of that scale, it needs to be addressed. It could be bad for us and the UGC."

"Agreed. But we can worry about that later. Right now, this place is about to be blown sky high. Do you have an exit route?"

She shook her head, realizing the locked down door was her only way through, "Got in just before the lockdown: no way in or out. Going to need an exit vector."

"I...could...unlock the...door for you," the scientist mumbled, clearly defeated.

_He was easy to break. Guess the 'incorruptibility' in Cerberus scientists has dropped significantly since Wilson._

"Forget it," Miranda reiterated to her colleague, "I now have a way out. Meet you at the RV point."

"Copy that. You've got six minutes and then we're gone. Kee out," the radio fell silent, Miranda turning to the scientist with her weapon brandished, motioning with it for him to get up. He gingerly did as he was told, and he guided her to the doorway, Miranda remaining ever vigilant for any possible trap he was leading her into.

Down the twisted corridors they went, the bright white lighting of the lockdown remaining persistent during their journey. They finally reached the door in question, stepping past the dried up remains of the dead Cerberus soldier to reach the central bulkhead. He moved to the side, opening up a terminal to find a switchboard, where he typed in his access code. The bright white lighting dimmed to its usual dimness, the latches pulling away as the door slowly opened. He smiled at her, Miranda frowning at the sudden expression of happiness. The smile didn't look faked or forced, it looked confident...

Just as the door was halfway open, the scientist suddenly ducked under it, sprinting down the hallway. Without a sound, she ducked under the door after him, standing up as she took aim at the fleeing scientist. He was just over a dozen meters away from her when he began to shout.

"Guards, guards, guards! Help! Need help down here! The intruder is here! And they've got a-"

She pulled the trigger as her crosshairs landed over his back. The single shot slammed into his back and propelled him forwards, causing him to fall flat on his front, the man screaming from the pain as blood began to pool around him. Before he could continue his screaming, she summoned her biotics and formed a stasis field around him, immobilizing every bodily movement, including his mouth.

_Shit, that was close. If Cerberus had found out about the bomb..._

Moving over to the scientist, she took aim with her rifle at the back of his head and tapped the trigger once, blowing a hole through the back of his head. Skull fragments and blood splattered across the floor. She didn't spend another second for focusing on him, instead turning to run to continue her sprint down the hallway.

She reached the end when the door shot open, the lock having been finally overridden. Behind it were two squads of Cerberus assault troopers, two dragoons and three combat engineers. Not slowing down, she chose to drop her rifle and summon her biotics once more, body wreathing in liquid blue. If she didn't act quickly, she was going to be torn to shreds by their combined fire.

They all raised their weapons, but she didn't give them a chance to use them. Summoning all her biotic power, she sent a single burst of energy barrelling towards them. The sheer force sent most of them flying, while the rest fell flat on their backs, winded by the blast. Knocked over and unable to stop her, she quickly dashed past them, hoping to get away before they got back to their feet. She noticed one of the combat engineers recovering more rapidly than the others, reaching for his stun baton. She formed dark energy behind one fist before flowing it into the engineer's face, cracking his visor and causing him to fall flat on the ground: unconscious or dead, it didn't matter to her: he wasn't a threat now.

The other door was unlocked, so she quickly dashed through it, throwing aside two more assault troopers and a guardian. She sprinted up the stairs, turning left for the storage room where she originated, finding two assault troopers engaging a pair of SIA operatives. They had their backs turned to her, so she quickly wrapped them in her blue touch, tossed them aside and sprinted through the doorway. Their shuttle, a kodiak in Cerberus colors, sat at the end of the bay, where the rest of the SIA squad were waiting, clad in their usual black and blue. Mao emerged from the shuttle, shaking his head.

"We almost left without you," he stated.

"Glad you didn't," Miranda announced, turning behind them to see the two agents from before climb into the shuttle. She did the same, as did the rest of the squad, Mao ordering the pilot to take off into the atmosphere. As she felt the kodiak left off the platform and shoot away from the facility, Mao turned to her, both of them standing and holding onto the support straps on the ceiling, "You going to tell me about this Keyhold now?"

She exhaled, shaking her head, "We've got next to nothing, Kee. Aside from knowing my father is involved, my sister's disappearance is somehow connected and that the Illusive Man values it highly, we've got zilch. I'll have to devote whatever time I've got now to finding more about it."

He nodded, "Once we return to HQ, I'll make a plea to the brass for us to devote resources to helping you."

She thought about his proposal for a moment, before eventually shaking her head, "No."

"No?"

"No," she repeated, "I have to do this on my own. I'm not endangering any lives other than my own on a personal matter. And believe me, I have a large personal stake in this. Besides, I know more about Cerberus than the SIA does, and having a few agents help me will only slow me down. I'll stick with that I've got, and that'll have to be enough. I thank you Kee, I really do, but I need to be a lone wolf on this."

Kee scratched the side of his face before shrugging, "That's your death wish, I guess. Can't say the agency will be happy about an agent essentially going freelance, though."

"I'm a third-party informant and military liason, not an SIA employee. They can't tell me to do anything. If they want to, let them try," a colossal explosion followed her words, followed by many more in synchronization, the shockwaves rocking the shuttle even from the thousands of meters it was in the air. She smiled, "At least you got your explosions, Kee."

He smiled, "A nice change of pace from getting our asses kicked. As for your new mission...I wish you good fortunate, Lawson. You're going to need it. Cerberus is a tenacious foe, and given they want you dead, I must object to your decision, but ultimately accept it."

She nodded in acknowledgement, "I understand, and thank you. I'll try not to be too dead."

_I'll find you, Oriana, I promise. And I finally know where to start looking._

**{Loading...}**

_August 1, 2186_

_1628 hours._

_Spectre Offices, Citadel Embassies, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

_KarmaQuarian8: We've still got dinner at 8, right?_

_HeroicMoronN7: Tali..._

_KarmaQuarian8: Hey...you promised. We haven't had a proper night out for a while, and this may be the last chance we get._

_HeroicMoronN7: I'm busy, Tali. You wouldn't believe the amount of bloody reporters requesting interviews has increased. And Khalisah isn't one of them! And then there's the casualty reports. There are hundreds of them. I'm going to be cooped up in here for hours at this rate._

_KarmaQuarian8: You need a break. You've been working non-stop, and don't think I don't know how you were_ _**before** _ _I came back. I've been talking with Garrus. You're going to collapse on the battlefield from exhaustion one day and you'll have no one to blame but yourself. You need this, I need this. We both need it. Besides, I'd be growing to appreciate the Citadel one more time. I'm_ _**not** _ _looking forward to going back to Omega. Keelah, what a garbage dump. And to think Aria loves that station so much she's willing to go to war for it._

_HeroicMoronN7: It may be a garbage dump Tali, but some garbage has its uses. We need to take Omega. Besides, think it of this way: we'll be on the offensive for a change._

_KarmaQuarian8: You're right. He needs to die. The Illusive Man, I mean. They all do._

_HeroicMoronN7: All in due time, honey._

_KarmaQuarian8: So is that a yes for dinner or a no. In which case for the latter, I guess I'm going to have drag you down there._

_HeroicMoronN7: XD. I guess I can't win, can I?_

_KarmaQuarian8: Not a chance. You should know that by now._

_HeroicMoronN7: *sigh* Fine. I'll go. 8 O'Clock it is. I'll see you then._

_KarmaQuarian8: Good. Anyway, better get back to work. I am chief engineer, or have you forgotten?_

_HeroicMoronN7: You texted me!_

_KarmaQuarian8: Love you. :)_

He chuckled, shaking his head.  _You simply can't win with a woman._

_HeroicMoronN7: Love you too, yol'tiya._

He switched off his omni-tool, wiping his face as he returned to the terminal infront of him, shifting his stance to a more comfortable position. He had indeed been there for at least an hour, and had planned for longer. He hadn't forgotten about their 'dinner date' as such, but when one saw the amount of reports, it was easy to lose hope in getting any kind of recreational time to themselves. Still, a date was a date.

_And I have no doubt Tali_ _**would** _ _drag me from this office to the Presidium for dinner. So best not to tempt fate._

He sighed, rubbing his face as he scrolled endlessly through the reports and emails in his inbox.  _There's so many of them...pleas for help, messages of thanks, reports full of the dead of a battle and the few survivors...this nightmare needs to end._

_..._ _**serve us** _ _..._

He bit on his lower lip, pinching his temple in frustration at the subtle and familiar pain he felt up there.  _Stay out of my head._

_..._ _**cannot resist** _ _..._

_Whatever._

He had figured out a solution for these 'headaches' of his. In one swift movement, he shook his head violently, listening for a moment before sighing in content, but also out of exasperation. The voice was gone, but now his neck hurt.

_Anyone else saw that, and they'd think I'm somekind of psycho, shaking my head like that. Best make sure to do that in the privacy of myself. Not even Tali should see that._

If he were honest, the voices in his head bothered him. His experience with the Reapers and their minions made sure he was well versed in the effects of indoctrination and what it did to their puppets after long periods of time. Saren, Matriarch Benezia and now the Illusive Man were prime examples. More recently, he read a report from the Thessian military of a recent bombing that wiped out much of their higher leadership, a terrorist action attributed to the Reapers, who are, for obvious reasons, unable to claim responsibility, although the likelihood of it either being them or Cerberus was high. Worse still...the woman responsible for the bombing was found to be Rana Thanoptis.

_Should never have let her off on Korlus...hell, shouldn't have let her live on Virmire. Not that it was her fault, but it should have been obvious from the get go she was indoctrinated...she didn't even know it, not until she was completely under their control: a mindless husk for them to use as they please. How many more have fallen to that curse? Will I be one of them?_

Not if he had anything to say about it.

_I've just got to hold out until the Crucible is completed. Then we can wipe out the Reapers. Of course, the catalyst..._

_Baby steps, Shepard. Baby steps. At the moment, focus on retaking Omega. The rest will come later._

And once again his focus returned to Cerberus. A constant pain in the ass.

_You'd think in a war where a race of sentient starships is trying to wipe you out you wouldn't be fighting a paramilitary organization that is supposed to be on your side. But there you have it. While Earth burns, Cerberus is content to conquer stations like Omega, make assassination attempts on key leaders in the UGC and enslave entire planets for an unknown nefarious purpose._

What scared him the most was Cerberus' actions. Their attack and abduction of the colony of Benning was too chillingly familiar. How they did it, why they did it, the fact that their influence under the Reapers was obvious to everyone but themselves...

_Too similar to the Collectors. What if the Reapers are grooming them to become the Collectors of the next cycle? That's basically what they did with the protheans, according to Javik. The Reapers indoctrinated a large group of them, made them believe they were part of a separatist movement, and then started a civil war within their ranks to divide the Empire's attention. After the war was over, the separatists became the Collectors. And here's Cerberus, fighting against us and dividing our attention, all of them obviously indoctrinated._

_And they don't even see it. Kai Leng. Randall Ezno. The fucking Illusive Man. All of them are puppets of the Reapers, and they are blind to it. But who cares...they were scumbags before the Reapers anyway. They deserved to die then, and they deserve to die now._

Just as he prepared to open a report from Victus on the Palaven campaign, his omni-tool beeped with an incoming transmission. He answered it, EDI's voice immediately coming through his comms unit, "Shepard, I was told to tell you that the  _Normandy_ is receiving an incoming transmission over the QEC. It is from Miss Lawson."

_Miranda? Haven't heard from her for a while. Not since she started..._

"Put her through to here," Marcus ordered, standing up from his terminal to move to the QEC terminal.

"Doing so now," EDI announced, before cutting the transmission. A few seconds later, the QEC infront of him burst to life in a blaze of blue particles, all of them scattering before forming into the familiar lithe form of Miranda Lawson. She wore her new black, skin-tight uniform that was similar to her old white one, but was now black to represent her defection from Cerberus. The absence of a Cerberus logo never went unnoticed with Marcus or anyone else, which was something Jacob had also done while he was alive. The woman looked no different from when he had last seen her, which he guessed was a good sign: her pursuit of her former employer, and their pursuit of her, hadn't changed her one bit.

"Miranda, hadn't expected to hear from you. It's been a while," Marcus stated, bracing against the terminal with a wary grin, "How have you been?"

Her arms crossed, she nodded, smiling back, "No worse for wear. The Illusive Man has done everything in his power to find me, but I've always stayed one step ahead. He's fairly predictable once you've come to know him as I have."

"Fair enough. As long as you're safe," his grin died, sighing heavily, "I'm sure you've heard about Jacob."

Her smile also died, and she frowned, "No, I haven't. What happened?"

He licked his lips, thinking of how to put it. In the end, all he could do was give her a single sombre look. Hopefully she'd get what he was trying to express.

She did. Her head hung low, there was silence between them for several moments. Several moments later, she looked up again, gulping, "How...how did it happen?"

He spoke bitterly, making it known how much he despised the man he spoke of, "One of the Illusive Man's attack dogs surprised us on Noveria. I couldn't draw my gun fast enough. Impaled Jacob through the back, right through his heart. The assassin was Kai Leng."

Miranda's eyes widened at that, looking shocked, "Leng? That bastard is still alive?"

That intrigued Marcus. He looked up, an eyebrow raised, "You know him?"

She nodded, looking almost afraid to talk about it, "I've had the misfortune of having worked with him before my defection. He was...far more zealous in his racism than any other Terra Firma or Cerberus member I've ever met. The sheer hate...it was unbelievable. Didn't help that he was an N7 and essentially the Illusive Man's go-to assassin for when you wanted someone taken out. He's extremely dangerous..." she wiped her eyes, Marcus realizing it must have been a tear she was wiping away. She looked away, taking a deep breath as if ashamed at the display of emotion, "No wonder Jacob didn't stand a chance. Leng is as ruthless as he is effective."

"He's a coward, and he didn't get off Noveria without a scratch," Marcus growled, Miranda seeming taken aback by the venom in his voice, "Before he killed Jacob, I got into a one-on-one fight with him. Without sounding like a braggart, I beat the shit out of him. He had cybernetics, just like me. He was an N7, just like me. And yet I beat him. And then he ran away, came back and made sure to murder Jacob while I was defenseless. Doesn't help that he murdered Admiral Raan's husband before my imprisonment. Let's just say Leng is on my list of people to kill when I next see them."

"It's a growing list, I'm sure," she stated with some dry amusement, although there was little to be found, "I'm glad you told me that, though. I had thought Leng to be dead. Last I heard about him was that he had been tasked with killing Paul Grayson when he attacked Grissom Academy after being turned into somekind of super husk. Rumours were that Councilor Anderson had killed him."

Marcus shook his head, "Some of it is partially true. The attack occurred, but while Anderson did severely wound him, Leng did get away. Anderson did a number on him though; probably explains all the cybernetics. Leng didn't need upgrades to be an efficient assassin, so..."

"The cybernetics were medical improvements, as well as ones for combat. I see," Miranda licked her own lips again, nodding to him in thanks, "Thank you, anyway. I'll have to watch my footsteps more carefully now: Leng has a habit of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. And given how much of a threat I am to the Illusive Man, he'll send his top assassin to kill me at some point. Especially now that I have information on Keyhold."

Marcus frowned, "Keyhold?"

She smiled, shaking her head, "Just a lead I'm following up on. I'm still searching for Oriana, but I've found out that my father is involved with some Cerberus operation called Keyhold, and by searching for that, I might just find her. I must again insist that you not get involved, Shepard. This is a personal matter and while you helped me save Oriana, that was not during a time of war."

He held up a hand defensively, a smile of his own developing, "Don't worry, my hands are tied anyway. It isn't widespread news yet, but Aria T'Loak has just recruited me to help her reclaim Omega. We're going to war, Miranda."

Her eyes widened, "Last I heard Petrovsky was leading that garrison...you'll be up for one hell of a fight, Shepard. Petrovsky's one of the best."

"So I've heard  _and_ read," he straightened, taking his arms from the console and crossing them, "But nobody's infallible, Miranda. I've assembled quite the military force to this endeavour. We've recently recruited the quarians and the geth into the UGC, and they'll be donating some forces to help with the assault, including a krogan battalion and, would you believe it, Jack and her students."

The woman laughed, "Oh, we may have never seen eye to eye, but I know when to appreciate a biotic, and given how powerful Jack is, having her on the ground will be invaluable. Wish I could be there, Shepard."

He nodded in agreement, "We're finally doing it, Miranda. We're holding our ground anymore. No more Cerberus ambushes. No more raids. The Illusive Man won't be calling the shots this time. We're taking the fight to Cerberus. We're finally going on the offensive and we're going to win. Defeat simply isn't an option. We have to show Cerberus our teeth. I'm sick and tired of Cerberus always getting the jump on us. The Illusive Man won't be expecting such an attack. We'll have the advantage in terms of surprise."

"Just make sure to never underestimate him, Shepard," Miranda pleaded, "Never make that mistake. You know as well as I that an organization like Cerberus can be deadly when backed against a wall. Don't let Omega be that wall. Take the station, but never let yourself believe it's over. Cerberus won't just fall over. One kick won't do it."

He mockingly saluted her, giving her one of his quirky, cocky grins, "I'll be sure to do that, ma'am. Tomorrow, it'll all be about painting. First step, clear the station of white and gold, then paint it blue. Aria blue."

That managed to make the woman chuckle, something that was very rare for Miranda, "And I should probably tell you to watch out for Aria, as well, but I don't think I need to. You're hardly best pals. But the thought remains."

"I'll be careful, mum," he pointed to her, "That goes for you, too. I may not be able to help you, but if you think you've found the facility and can't attack it on your own...you know who to call. We're ready to whoop Cerberus ass wherever it is, whenever and wherever. Never hesitate to call."

She smiled, "I'll keep that in mind, Shepard."

"Marcus," he corrected, "For God sake, call me Marcus. You're the only one at this point on the crew who doesn't."

"But it's so informal-"

"And you should know we're not very formal," he added, cutting her off.

With a sigh, she consented his point, and nodded one final time, "Marcus, take care of yourself. Send me a postcard once Omega is reclaimed, but don't go sending me invites. Omega...what a shithole. Last time I went there I had to shower three times to get the stench off."

He dropped the smile, saluting her, "Godspeed, Miranda."

"You too," she reached for a console infront of her, typing at it before turning to him with a final smile, and a salute of her own, "Lawson out." And with that, her form exploded into blue particles, dimmed and then faded away entirely, leaving Marcus to look at an inactive projector.

He shrugged, stretching out the muscles in his arms before turning back to the terminal and returning to his previous task. He had roughly an hour and a half before he had to go out to dinner with Tali, who he could at least make a dent in these messages...however miniscule they were.

And so he opened the first, beginning the monotonous, but melancholic, task of reading through the messages of those who relied on him to save them all...

**"So...the attack on Omega. I don't remember much of it as clearly anymore, not in my old age anyway."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Indeed. Aria T'Loak is famous for having taken majority of the credit, but you would argue you had a large stake in it?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"I would say Aria proposed the idea and little else. Her 'plans' were reworked to the point where it was effectively a UGC military operation. A point she made sure to constantly complain about. It was quite the stab to her pride."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"Well, do tell. A solid account of the Second War for Omega would certainly help settle the minds of some historians."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Well, history is written by the victor...unless that victor happens to be me. So, without further a do, here's how the station was** _**really** _ **reclaimed..."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Yeah, I know. I've dragged it on and teased you enough. The war to retake Omega begins next chapter. Given my chapter outline, it'll probably be the longest story arc yet, so strap yourselves and get ready for a long, but hopefully epic, ride. This is the Omega arc!** _

_**Now, you'll probably be wondering whether or not, when Mass Effect Andromeda comes out, this story will go on hiatus until I finish it. That's a question I can't really answer. Given my current status as a new tertiary student, I'll have to decide my attentions between that, MEA AND Halo Wars 2 AND this fanfic. I'll try my best to juggle both, but if this story goes on hiatus for a while, you'll know why. ;) And yes, Andromeda will factor into this story at some point, but all I can say is that it won't be in Holocaust. How I'll implement it...you'll have to find that out. I've obviously had to change the nature behind it due to how my version of events has gone, so the reason for the Andromeda Initiative existing in MY version compared to Bioware's canonical version will be vastly different.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	63. Top of the Shit List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria is reluctant about accepting UGC help. The geth spearhead the assault on the Omega defense fleet, but quickly run into Petrovsky's first surprise.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FORTY-NINE:**

**TOP OF THE SHIT LIST**

_August 2, 2186_

_1040 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Widow System, Serpent Nebula._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor, Yeoman Kelly Chambers, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, General_ _Zaal'Golo vas Zavtee, Fleet Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Hadrian, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak, Lieutenant Nakmor Dreg, Lieutenant Bray, Technican Ahz, Admiral Jarral, First Lieutenant Jack, Battalion-Commandant Urdnot Grunt._

If Marcus was a claustrophobic or any kind of agoraphobic, he'd probably be freaking out right now.

He had never seen the War Room so packed before. Sure, there had been the ocassions where it was almost constantly occupied. Primarch Victus and Wrex made constant use of the room during the genophage dilemma. Admiral Raan had used it when planning military activities in the Perseus Veil. Samantha found herself constantly using it due to her love for communications technology, specifically the QEC. It was always occupied by someone at one point or another.

But never to  _this_ degree.

He almost felt squashed among all the occupants. Marcus stood at the main terminal to the war table, the side facing the QEC communications chamber. He wore his usual attire, along with his N7 cap, reading over the details prior to the main briefing. To his right was Garrus, the turian holding a datapad and reading over the information himself: given that Garrus was unofficially his second-in-command (and also a Spectre, as well), he got to access the same information Marcus did when planning a mission, something Garrus took to eagerly.

Tali stood on the opposite side of the table, arms clasped behind her back as she engaged in a three-way conversation with Kasumi and Liara on who-knows-what. Judging by how they laughed however, it must have been fairly entertaining.

On the right was Javik, looking as stoic and disinterested as always. His arms crossed, the prothean likely feeling out the room and its occupants. He could imagine he was silently judging them all, thinking of an array of silly names to give to these 'primitive' creatures, whilst also laughing inwardly at himself. Of course, like everyone else who had met Javik thus far, had addressed the prothean like he was somekind of grotesque effigy, only to find out he was a prothean. Aria had expressed somewhat of an interest at that, but had quickly forgotten about it all when Omega was brought up. Apparently Javik found that amusing.

Next to Javik was Joker and EDI. The pilot had managed to work his way out of the cockpit to attend the briefing, stating they were sitting in a stationary orbit, and that no pilot was really needed and he was bored anyway. In reality though, he figured Joker was there because EDI was. The AI didn't really need to, as she could hear anything going on the ship at anytime, but apparently EDI had thought it would be better if she attended in person to further help her study of organic behaviour. That, and he had a feeling she simply wanted to be there because Joker was...

To the left, next to Tali, Kasumi and Liara, was James, Cortez, Kaidan and Keeling. The marine, as he always seemed to do, looked to be telling Keeling a joke, but the N7 didn't seem to get it, as his smile was starting to slide off his face, shaking his head. Cortez looked to be stiffling laughter at the likely hilarious situation, the pilot getting no end of enjoyment out of Vega's misery: Kaidan was in much the same position of delight. Keeling looked less than amused, although Marcus secretly believed she liked the marine's attitude, but didn't want to show it out of personal insecurity.

_Marcus Shepard, the fucking psychologist. Leave that shit to Kelly, man._

Speaking of the ship's yeoman, he saw her standing not far from him on his left was Kelly herself, looking at her omni-tool as she seemed to chat with someone, her fingers tapping away at a keypad ever so often giving it away. Samantha stood behind her, pretending to look anywhere but where she wasn't supposed to, peering over Kelly's shoulder to read what she was texting.

Then came their guests. Largely stranded around the table, Admiral Gerrel was on the far left, accompanied by another guest: a red geth trooper platform by the name of Hadrian, who would be commanding the geth naval forces in the attack, and Zaal'Golo, who would be commanding the quarian and geth ground forces. Themistocles had returned to the rest of his forces, needing to lead them and the quarian forces while Gerrel commanded the quarian naval force during reclamation of Omega. The gesture was an enormous sign of trust from Gerrel, who, up until this point, had shown complete hatred for the geth: now he was handing over command of the majority of his remaining Fleet to a geth. How times had changed...

Opposite them, on the far right, was Aria and her men. Dreg loomed behind her like a guard dog, using his intimidating physique to scare off any daring to approach her, although Marcus doubted any of his squad were afraid of him, given they had faced much bigger krogan, and even had two they could call friends. Next to Dreg was Bray, and helping her with some information on her omni-tool was Ahz, her head technician. Jarral was beside Aria, looking over a tactical readout on her datapad.

And, just like old times, two of his best friends stood behind him: Jack and Grunt. Jack's appearance had been a surprise, but a welcome one. She was wearing the Light HYPERION-82L armor given to her by the Alliance, her arms crossed and engaging in conversation with their second surprise: Grunt. The two laughed gleefully, likely swapping stories of blood and gore, death and glory, destruction and mayhem. Grunt's cackle and Jack's chuckle went hand in hand, their affinity for decimation uncanny. As a bonus, having the two of them here was a God send, Jack's powerful biotic abilities and Grunt's veteran krogan battalion being a welcome addition to their invasion force.

He looked at Aria, shaking his head with a smirk.  _Sorry, 'liberation' force. Depose one tyrannical leader for another. At least Aria's the kind of tyrannical leader the UGC likes, and just so happens to be on good terms with us._

Still, he didn't like the game Aria was playing. It was clear she wanted Omega, and she was willing to snatch it from Cerberus hands no matter the cost. A lot of people were going to die in this operation, civilian and military, UGC and Cerberus. What irritated him was that Aria didn't seem to care or even acknowledge that factor: like it didn't  _matter._

What scared him more was that he was helping her. He never helped people like that. Hell, he never once thought he would find himself friends with someone like Aria T'Loak.

_Reckless but influential. She sure played me, that's for sure. Got me to agree to this little raid. What she doesn't seem to realize is that I'm calling the shots now. I don't give a shit if it's her station, her plan or her intention. Omega, for all intents and purposes, is a high value military target and therefore a UGC concern. Lawless or not, Omega will fly the UGC flag by the time this is done or I'll drag Aria kicking and screaming to the negotiation table. And if she goes back on her promise? Well..._

He looked up at the asari in question, finding her scowling at Jarral. The asari admiral looked dumbfounded, which seemed to anger Aria as she slammed a fist on the table, standing up to point at the readout. Jarral kneeled over to look at it and shrugged, causing Aria to finally lose her shit and grab the back of Jarral's head, forcing it against the terminal. He finally heard what she was saying now because she was so loud everyone in the room could hear it.

"Does that  _look_ like a fucking cruiser?" Aria snarled, letting go of Jarral's head so the admiral could stand up. She rubbed the back of her head tenderly, while her 'illustrious' leader continued to speak furiously, "No! Even  _I_ can tell the difference between a  _cruiser_  and a  _carrier_. You know, because that ship is  _far larger_ than a  _cruiser._  Fuck up like that again, and I'll have you replaced. Perhaps Fexx would like a shot at the chair!"

Jarral looked up, flabbergasted, " _Fexx!?_ He's a vorcha...he can't...he..."

"...is an imbecile?" Aria waved her hands in the air with a sarcastic indifference, "That's the fucking  _point_. If you don't get your shit together, then I will replace you with an  _imbecile._ That's how much I value your  _opinion_ , Jarral. At least  _Vexx_ will follow orders! He'll do it as slowly as possible and likely with a dozen questions of 'so what is FTL stand for?', but at least he'll eventually fucking do it! I've just about had enough with you, Jarral! It worries me that you're my admiral and you can't even tell the difference between a cruiser and a goddamn ship that is clearly bigger!"

"Sorry...ma'am," Jarral summarily apologized, once again showing off her signature look of 'somebody just beat the shit out of my pride' and clumsily retrieving her datapad from the table, "...won't happen again, ma'am."

"That's the smartest, most intellectual, thing I've ever heard you say, Jarral. And intellect has never been your ally," Aria dryly remarked, turning back to the table as she waved Bray and Dreg towards her. She always seemed to value their input over her head admiral, who she generally treated like a varren. Jarral just returned to her datapad, almost like a petulant child.

_Fucking hell. How Jarral ended up being called an 'admiral' is beyond me. Does Aria even have a fleet worth having an admiral to command? What's the point if Aria is commanding all her forces? Seems like a token rank, if anything else. No real value, just a title given to make a child feel better about themselves._

He didn't fail to notice the glare Gerrel was shooting Aria, the quarian's point of view of Aria having been set from the moment he had heard he was going to meet her. From the moment Marcus said the meeting had been set up to the actual meeting itself, Gerrel had it quite clear what his opinion of Aria would be: far from positive. Reckless, irresponsible, ruthless, prone to action, tactically inept, and utterly impotent were just some of the choice wording he had used to describe her. And Marcus agreed with him. What they didn't agree on was the need to help Aria retake Omega: Marcus saw the tactical value in holding such a prize, while Gerrel saw it as a waste of resources and firepower that would be better spent combating the Reaper threat.

And yet, here Gerrel was. With quite a few ships, he might add.

_He's probably come to realize that when I say something needs to be done, it's probably a good idea to accept that as fact and go ahead with it: it usually produces good results. Take Rannoch, for example. He didn't follow my lead, and shit got hairy. I kept doing what needed to be done, and now the quarians have Rannoch back, as well as a powerful ally. After that, I think Gerrel will think twice before questioning me again._

Anyone else would find a sense of ego in that. A reason to brag. Marcus didn't. A matter of fact, it made him apprehensive.

_The more and more races that rally behind me, the more pressure on my shoulders to ensure their survival. I've promised so many of them victory...the Crucible seems too good to be true, and yet every race, at my beck and call, has thrown whatever they can into it. Sure, it took some convincing, but now they're willing to bend over backwards for me, and that's scary. That much power...no one should have that kind of power. It's...too much. So many people relying on me...thousands, millions,_ _**billions** _ _...all of them believing I will be their sole protector. Their liberator. The man who will bring legions to save them from the Reapers. The man who will find the catalyst, bring the Crucible to full completion and then hopefully have it kill the Reapers at just one strike of a button. Just one man. Me._

He sighed, squaring his shoulders.  _I miss the old days where it was us versus them. Nothing riding on our backs except an imminent Reaper invasion. Chasing Saren across the galaxy and storming the Collector Base. The good days. Sure, it wasn't actually bright and happy times, but it was better than this. Now...nothing but misery, destruction and death to go around. Hundreds die each day, and the Reapers crawl ever closer to complete victory. Earth is in ruins, Anderson is trapped there and I'm in charge of the largest military alliance in galactic history._

These were thoughts that he couldn't help but address. It was a necessary proponent of keeping himself sane. If he addressed the brutality of reality...he could accept it. Begrudgingly, sure, but he would accept it nonetheless. Coming to grips with reality, having his wife close by and his squad fighting by his side are what kept him afloat in these dark times. Without those three magical ingredients...it was possible Shepard would have stayed back on Earth.

_It could very well have been me who stayed behind, not Anderson. Imagine how different things would be then._

But he was here now. He knew that. And with a large-scale invasion to plan, he had to focus on that. It was time to give Cerberus a kick in the gonads.

_We'll finally be the ones attacking this time._

Because, as cramped as the war room was, it was cramped for a reason: that reason was Cerberus and Omega.

Straightening up, he turned to Garrus, who in turn turned away from the datapad, having noticed his commander's look. Marcus nodded, and the turian returned it. Knowing his trusted second-in-command was ready and had a firm grip of the plan, he turned to Aria, clearing his throat, hands clasped behind his back, and raised his voice, "Well Aria, should we get this meeting jump started? The sooner we start, the sooner you get Omega."

Aria seemed to ignore him for a few moments, continuing to pore over some information on a datapad Bray had given her before handing it back, thanking her lieutenant and turning back to Marcus with an exasperated pose, arms braced against the table, "That's very considerate of you, Shepard. Lead the way. Tell me this 'revised' plan of yours."

"Not quite the word I'd use to describe it," Garrus remarked, giving Marcus a slight side eye before looking directly at Aria, "Perhaps the term 'vastly improved' is what you're looking for."

"I knew exactly what words I wanted to use, Vakarian," Aria spat, glaring at him, "Don't patronize me."

"Both of you, play nice," Marcus ordered, noticing the rest of the room had quietened down and was focusing on them, "We're working together now, so we have to keep our discontent to ourselves and focus on the enemy."

"This is why I didn't want your squad coming with you, Shepard," Aria replied dryly, shaking her head as she ignored Garrus, focusing solely on Marcus with the same glare she delivered the turian, "They have a tendency to be full of smartasses."

"You'd have gotten the same out of me, Aria," Marcus remarked, biting back a smirk.

"Toughen up, you little bitch," Jack stated behind him, the biotic joining Garrus as she crossed her arms, grinning at the asari with the same air of smugness Jack always had these days, "The squad is here and so is the cavalry. You should be happy. All these smartasses are going to fuck up some Cerberus for you."

"I will enjoy bathing in their blood," Grunt added, the krogan having joined Marcus on his left, his own muscular arms braced on the table's edge, "It is the krogan way."

The asari crime queen simply rolled her eyes, turning to the table, "Whatever. Let's just get to the debriefing."

"Very well," he summarily replied, keeping it short and without further conflict. None of his squad spoke up, having apparently understood Marcus' need for them to keep any disagreement with Aria to themselves, knowing that they were working with her and she with them, and that conflict between them would be pointless.

His eyes met Samantha's, the captain giving a slight nod in her direction, "Miss Traynor, if you please."

The  _Normandy_ 's comms specialist did exactly as asked, turning from Kelly to type at the terminal and bring up the aforementioned plans. Hovering above the table in all its holographically-depicted glory was Omega, colorized in holographic red, surrounded by equally three-dimensional depictions of the asteroid belt it was located in. The map expanded outwards to envelop the entire Sahrabarik system, with the system's many planets in full view of the holo projection, as well as the Sahrabarik relay at the corner of the system, and the intensely glowing Omega 4 Relay further towards the center of the system, opposite Omega itself.

"As you all already know, Omega is located within a dense asteroid field, which gives it a shield against an invading naval force, ensuring that any attempt to bombard it from long range would be met with some difficulty. The only reason Cerberus succeeded last time was because they got under the asteroid belt, docked with the station and attacked from within. Well, lightning, in this case, will not be striking twice. Cerberus will not allow any foreign force anywhere near the system, let alone Omega itself," he made sure everyone understood that detail before continuing, "If Petrovsky is as smart as his service history and actions make him out to be, he will have his fleet scattered amongst the asteroids, using them as both cover and hiding places. Any foe who tries to maneuver the field and gets within range of Omega would find themselves outflanked by Petrovsky's fleet and would be shortly outmaneveured and destroyed. This gives Petrovsky an advantage over us already. However, we have something Petrovsky, nor anyone else, has."

Aria sighed, looking almost annoyed at his game of 'guess what I'm talking about', "What?"

He turned to Hadrian, nodding as he continued to speak, "The geth have managed to develop cloaking technology for their ships, which is something nobody else has, not even the Reapers. We can use this. My plan is this," he moved his hand forward and swiped left on the map before clasping his hand to zoom in. The map zooms in on Omega's asteroid belt, showing the many, scattered signatures representing the predicted positions of the Cerberus warships, "Under the command of Hadrian, the geth fleet will make up the vanguard and will be the first to charge in. If Cerberus detects our entire fleet coming through the relay, they'll be ready and waiting by the time we get there and we'll be torn to shreds, no matter how large our fleet is."

More than eighteen blue ships appeared outside the asteroid belt on the map, quickly moving in, before disappearing entirely, "While our fleet waits in the Pylos Nebula, Hadrian will take his ships and enter the system without using the relay whilst under cloak. He will remain this way all the way up to the asteroid belt. He will traverse the belt and use his fleet's LADAR to find all the Cerberus ships and where they are hiding."

"Map out the enemy positions for a better tactical readout," Gerrel pointed out, looking impressed, "A sound strategy. Makes excellent use of the cloaking as well."

"Exactly," Marcus turned to the table and continued, pointing out the numerous faint blue signatures that now rested behind the Cerberus lines, "Once they've mapped out the enemy, Hadrian will send the signal via QEC for our ships to move through the relay. The  _Normandy_ will then lead the rest of the fleet through the relay and storm Omega. Petrovsky's fleet will immediately turn to engage us and spring their trap. Hadrian will then decloak his ships and attack the enemy. With some luck, the Cerberus fleet will be left in complete disarray and will not be able to form an effective counterattack, giving us the clear advantage."

Before he could finish the first stage plan, Aria spoke up, pointing at the large green signature representing a Cerberus dreadnought, "That's the  _Elbrus_ , Petrovsky's flagship. I would recommend using one of the larger geth ships to take advantage of your attack and destroy the flagship: cut the head off the snake, I believe the human saying is. Or is that not tactically smart?"

Hadrian nodded, "No, we believe this to be a sound move. Without the flagship, Cerberus forces will be at a disadvantage and General Petrovsky will have lost an important symbol of power."

Marcus nodded, "I agree with Admiral Hadrian's assessment. One of Hadrian's ships will destroy the  _Elbrus_  during the initial attack. Cut the head off the snake, as you say, Aria."

With that settled, he turned back to the holotable and continued with his briefing, "Before long, the Cerberus fleet will be caught between Hadrian's ships and our reinforcements. Petrovsky will have two choices then: withdraw what ships he'll have left and have them leave via FTL and effectively lose his naval supremacy. Or, he can have his ships stay behind and fight to the death, where the entire fleet will be inevitably wiped out."

"Either way, Petrovsky loses his control over the system," Bray pointed out, nodding in impression. He looked at Marcus and shrugged, grinning from ear to ear, "Then it becomes a ground war."

The N7 nodded in acknowledgement of the batarian's point, quickly zooming in further to Omega, showing nothing but the station and a cross-section of its interior. He points to a glowing red dot at the upper end of the station's stalk, "We'll enter through there, as per Aria's original plan. However, instead of slamming a bloody cruiser into it, we'll open a far less devastating opening with a volley of javelin torpedoes from the  _Normandy._  Me and my squad will be the first on the ground, deployed by tank, followed by Jack and her students, then the rest of the ground forces will steadily follow."

"That's the Felmuk District," Aria stated, "Good decision keeping it as your deployment area. The area around it is the least armoured and its one of the more poorly maintained districts on the entire station: this means that Cerberus will likely have neglected it entirely, ensuring a rapid and ungreeted insertion."

"It'll allow us some room before Cerberus gets wind of it and sends troops to stop us. Hopefully, by then, we'll be too spread out for Petrovsky to rout us," Marcus continued upon Aria's point, moving across the holographic surface of Omega, "From there, we'll push Cerberus back and secure the lower level and set up a base of operations: the fleet will remain to secure the outside area and set up defensive positions in the case of Petrovsky calling for more ships."

"We can just jam his communications," Dreg proposed, looking befuddled the idea hadn't been considered, "I'm sure the geth could pull it off."

Marcus shook his head, "Cerberus practically invented the QEC, and given Omega is an important asset to them, no doubt Petrovsky will have one. QEC's sent signals that can't be traced or blocked, meaning that even if we jammed standard outbound comms, he can still use his QEC to call for help: aside from outright destroying the device itself, we can't stop that. Not even the Reapers can block a QEC. That's how we've been contacting the resistance on Earth so easily."

"So if he does call for help?" Dreg asked next, accepting Marcus' logic.

"Like I said, the fleet will set up defensive positions within the asteroid belt. By doing this, we're effectively blockading the station: we'll have cut off the Cerberus supply line and any attempt to send fresh troops, ships and supplies will have to get through the fleet first. Petrovsky will be stuck with the force, food and drink he has. And, when you've got a station full of civilians, those supplies won't hang around forever. All things considered, we could even do this the old fashioned way: wait him out. But we won't."

"Why not?" Keeling asked, eyebrow raised, "Just seems like we'd be inflicting far more casualties on their side than our own if we did. Old-fashioned siege never hurt anyone."

"Because a siege would take too long and the risk is too great," Marcus elaborated, crossing his arms as he addressed the entire room's concerns, "We bunker down for a siege, we run the risk of allowing the Illusive Man ample time to form a liberation force, including a sizable fleet, to smash our blockade. Also, even if we did, the Reapers aren't going to sit still and watch: the war is going to keep going, and while we're starving out the enemy, the Reapers will continue to raze world after world: it might even reach the point where taking Omega won't make a lick of difference. Then you've got to consider Cerberus itself: if this were any other army, we could starve them out, yes. But this isn't any other army...these soldiers are practically husks. How do we know they need to eat or drink? This siege will probably only affect Petrovsky, and he'd have plenty of food and drink for himself in that case. And, finally, the civilian cost: by committing to a siege, we're effectively dooming any occupied populace to starvation. We'll be murderers. A full-scale invasion...we could end this more quickly. Far more quickly. Trust me, I've thought of all of this. There is no other option. We have to invade."

"So we get to kill some Cerberus after all," Jack dryly added, pounding her fists together before turning to Grunt and punching the krogan lightly in the shoulder, "You hear that, shit for brains? We have to get our hands dirty!"

The krogan's response was simply a 'heh heh heh', a laugh that never ceased to creep Marcus out. Looking around the room, he was careful to note there was no further objections to the plan. They were all onboard. They all knew his plan was the only plan: there could be no lengthy siege, or no 'you're all expendable, let's just wing it' plan like Aria wanted. Omega was too valuable to simply destroy, and leaving Cerberus to their own ends just wouldn't do. He had thought through every single possibility, addressed every definitive reason not to.

His mind was set.  _This has to happen._

"So is there any further plans for the ground attack?" Zaal'Golo spoke up, looking as formal as Gerrel, if not nearly identical, "You mentioned securing the Felmuk district and establishing an FOB, but no mention of where to go from there."

"That's because there isn't," Marcus stated, "Until we know exactly how Petrovsky's grip on the station is distributed, there's not much else we can plan. We need to know places of vulnerability, if gaps exist in his flank and where and when to strike them, we need to know where he himself is located and how best to end this battle, quickly or with caution," he held up a hand in defense, foregoing any outrage from Aria, "I know you want a swift resolution to this war Aria, but let's face facts: Petrovsky is not an enemy who will just bend over and let us walk through the gates of his HQ: he's going to put up a fight, and it'll be bloody. If we charge in, we'll give him an opportunity to surround and destroy us. We need to play this his way: cautiously and intelligently. We must think like he does, act like he does, copy what he does. Know your enemy and in a thousand battles, you will never lose, remember?"

The asari held back whatever she was going to say, simply nodding as she understood his fundamental, but reasonable, argument. Nothing else was said, and as Marcus went to close the meeting, Aria spoke up again.

"We won't need to establish a base," she declared, catching the attention of everyone in the room. She waved her hand through the hologram, zooming in on a bunker-looking facility, located just above the Felmuk district iself, "My personal bunker. It's located in the Tuhi district. It's large enough that we can establish a base there. It's got the facilities...I made sure of it."

He had to admit she was right. The bunker had fourteen decks total, accompanied by a courtyard and command center, along with numerous other decks for garages and armouries. It had numerous automated defenses, including Alliance mechanized chain guns. The place was a veritable fortress, with a positioning that made it extremely difficult to bombard or find. He whistled, looking up at the asari, "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Because it wasn't any of your concern," she replied simply, "I built the bunker years ago from the remnants of an old krogan Imperial barracks. Yes, it was that old: by old, I mean back to the foundation of Omega itself, old. So I took it, updated its defenses and systems, and basically turned it into a safehouse in case the population got rebellious and rose up against me and I needed to wage war on them, or Patriarch decided to inspire some insurrection. In the end, I used it briefly during Petrovsky's invasion of my station. As far as I know, he never found it. He knew I was in the Tuhi district, but he didn't know where: he just artillery and bombers hounding it until he pulled his little fake out. It should still be there, and I don't think Petrovsky's bothered to try and find it."

"That would be our best bet then, Loco," James firmly accentuated, tapping his hand against the console as affirmation for his belief, "That bunker looks more beefed up than a Reaper's backside, and I doubt the Cerbies will find it anytime soon. If we want to fight a war with Petrovsky groundside, that'd be the way to go."

"Agreed," General Golo reinforced.

"Then Aria's bunker is where we go," Marcus declared, standing up with his hands clasped firmly behind his back, "This is it, people. We go to Omega, we're committed. Every single gun is firm. We will fight Cerberus with the conviction of victory. We will not accept anything less than complete Cerberus defeat. Petrovsky may be smart, he may be fast and he may be the deadliest foe we've faced so far...but we will not let that stop us. No matter how smart you are, now matter how strong...everyone has their achillies heel...we just need to find Petrovsky's. There will be casualties. This new battle will cost us in both spirit and men, but we cannot turn back. We cannot accept defeat. In this circumstance, it is unacceptable. Cerberus has always beaten us to the punch. They've always struck first. So when we make this attack, think of the people of Eden Prime. Think of the archives on Mars. Think of the STG on Sur'Kesh. Think of the families on the Citadel who will never see their sons, daughters, husbands and wives again. And, think of the people of Omega. Think of that, remember that, become that. Then say this: not this time. This time,  _we_ strike.  _We_ will arise from the shadows to lash out. The snake has bitten us several times...time to rip its fucking head off."

"Hoo-rah!" James pounded his fists.

"That's my kind of speech!" Jack backed up, whistling loudly.

"I said my battlemaster had no match. Some may even say you talk too much," Grunt remarked, turning to Marcus with his teeth bared in a broad smirk that would have terrifed anyone else. He slapped Marcus on the back with a mighty chuckle, "Luckily, I've seen you fight! Those words are followed by glorious battle!"

"This will be...interesting," Javik added more reservedly, "I remember when this asteroid of yours as once of prothean property. If it is as impenetrable as it was for us then, I believe this battle will be intriguing, to say the least. I much look forward to it, captain."

Bray, Dreg and Jarral all nodded and Aria, seeing her lieutenants doing the same, finished with her own, solemn nod of respect, "I had heard of your speeches, Shepard. Another to hear them. I sure hope you're not planning to run for president of Omega."

That caused him to laugh alittle, "Have no fear of that, Aria. I don't love the station as much as you do."

With nothing else to say, he turned and saluted them, "We leave for the Pylos Nebula in just a few hours. Have your respective forces assemble at the Widow relay and depart on my orders. Until then, I shall see you on the battlefield. Ancestors, goddess, spirits, mother of all thresher maws, God...whatever you believe in, pray to them for ultimate victory."

With that, the occupants of the room filed out steadily and slowly, eventually leaving noone but Marcus and his squad. They all gathered around the table, with Marcus allowing himself to slack slightly as he braced against the table again.

Cortez was the first to speak, "Can't say I was expecting this. This is a whole new undertaking. Although we're doing an awful lot of liberating."

"I think it'll be thrilling!" Samantha said excitedly, "First curing the genophage, then retaking Rannoch and now visiting Omega! It's like I'm on a cruise ship...except a heavily armed cruise ship, whose tours involve a lot of fighting and blood and dying...oh God..." the comms specialist facepalmed, looking entirely embarassed, "Now that I think about it, this isn't some wonderous, is it?"

"No, it isn't," Kelly added more quietly, far less enthusiastically as well, "Especially considering we're off to fight a former employer of mine. Not going to be glad to see them again, I'll be honest."

"None of us are," Garrus added, his own arms crossed, "Except maybe Jack. But she has quite the love for our Cerberus buddies."

"If by love you mean being experimented on and then coming back to make their life hell," the psychotic biotic replied snarkily, "Then sure, we're practically husband and wife."

"I'm worried about Aria," Kasumi stated, speaking for the first time in the entire meeting, "She seems like the kind of person willing to sacrifice thousands to get what she wants. And what she wants is an entire space station."

Liara nodded in agreement, "Aria T'Loak is far from the most trustworthy person."

"You guys act like I was born yesterday," he grinned, "I know full well what Aria is like. I'm an observant man. I know Aria can't be trusted, which is why I'm keeping her close: if she tries anything, I'll be there to put her down if necessary. I'm fully prepared to kill her...again,  _if_  necessary. That's half the reason I've got you guys...I can always count on your support."

"Argh," Grunt groaned, shaking his head, "This is the part I didn't like about you, battlemaster."

"I find it charming," Kasumi smirked, "In a 'commander to subordinate' kind of way."

"Makes me nauseous," Jack added in support of the krogan commander.

"I second that," Garrus added.

"Loco's a big softie at heart!" James exclaimed, running a hand through his hair with insurmountable amusement, "No wonder when I spar him, he crumbles! All that fluff has made him soften up!"

"I wouldn't say he's soft everywhere," Tali added with some mischief.

There was a collective groan of disgust, followed by Kasumi bursting out laughing. Marcus' cheeks heated up, the captain turning away with a half smile.

"I do not understand what you refer to," Javik stated, looking between them with a frown and some genuine confusion, "What part of the captain is harder than his body?"

"Nothing. Just a joke between primitives," Joker jested, the pilot leaning on EDI for support.

"Tali was referring to Shepard's pe-"

"Please, EDI!" Marcus shouted, making sure he got her attention and stopped her from talking. Coughing to clear his throat, he felt himself suddenly heat up, "...that's...no need...for detail."

"Ah, yes," the AI apologized, nodding at him, "I apologize. I must get used to this concept of privacy. Although I still do not understand why the act of sexual repro-"

" _EDI_ ," Marcus almost growled, turning to Tali and pointing at her, "This is your fault!"

"My fault!? Ha! Sure it was!"

"Shepard's a pussy!" Jack poked, punching him in the shoulder, "Boy scout when he's got his big boy armor on, but he's really just a mental virgin!"

"Now I understand," Javik, for the first time Marcus had seen him do so, smiled, turning to the captain, "The joke was referring to your embarassment regarding the topic of sexual intercourse. How amusing."

"For fuck sake!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the console, "You guys are insufferable! How did we get from the topic of retaking a space station to my ability to...well...you know!"

"Get a stiffy?" his head snapped to Jack, who looked to have no intent on stepping down her verbal assault. Samantha was blushing from cheek to cheek, refusing to look at any of them, while Kelly just shook her head with mild disapprovement, eyes closed and a couple of giggles erupting from her lips. Cortez leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed and smiling warmly, just watching the set of events unfold.

"Okay, enough talk about my sex life!" Marcus shouted. He turned to Tali, who was crossing her arms and leaning on one hip, one finger tapping her arm as she looked at him expectantly. He sighed, nodding, " _Tali_  and I's sex life. I would rather think focusing on taking Omega would be more important."

"Hey, I just made a joke," his wife remarked, clearly amused, "You chose to get all huffed up about it."

Keeling looked less than amused by the shenanigans, "I agree. I don't know how you guys get anything done with all this squabbling. If this were a proper Alliance warship, you'd all get disciplined," she turned to Marcus and quickly snapped a salute, realizing how arrogant she was being, "Apologies, sir. Never meant to criticize your command ability, sir. Just pointing this out, sir."

He saluted her back, shaking his head, "No apologies needed, Lieutenant. Besides, we're like this all the time. But you've seen us in action. Once we get down to it, we get shit done. Omega will be no different. Consider this...dealing with apprehension."

"I'm loving this ship," Cortez declared, pumping his fists into the air, "You wouldn't see stuff like this on any other ship. Multiple alien races in one room exchanging banter like this? Hell, there's a  _turian_ on a  _human_ warship. You don't see that a lot, if ever."

"Well, who'll keep the guns maintained if I'm not here?" Garrus replied, his own arms crossed and mandibles flicking in amusement. He waited a few moments before nodding, "That's what I thought. Ken and Gabby would be lost without Tali to give them direction, too."

"That's not true," Tali receded into herself, no longer as confident as she had been before, now somewhat embarassed, rubbing her right arm, "Ken and Gabby do a lot of work too..."

"Well, I'm glad to have you guys here," Marcus stated, bringing their conversation to a close, "In just a few hours, we'll be heading for Omega. I want you guys to be ready. It'll be a couple of days before we reach the Pylos Nebula, but we need to be ready to jump straight into battle if shit goes sideways. I'm positive our plan will work...if Aria's information is right. She doesn't have much reason to lie, but if Petrovsky is as smart as she makes him out to be, he could have fabricated false intel and made sure it got into her hands. Whatever the case, we need to be ready to adapt. I'll call for a meeting tomorrow to discuss such an auxiliary plan. Until then, return to your stations and await any further orders. Dismissed."

Afterwards, he returned to his cabin to get some rest himself. The next couple days, possibly weeks, were going to be big ones. Petrovsky didn't know it yet, but the war to liberate Omega was now in full swing.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1518 hours._

_Main Bridge, GDM-280 Class Dreadnought, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of Sahrabarik._

_Admiral Hadrian._

Hadrian observed the space before him and his fleet, watching as he carefully navigated his dreadnought through the Sahrabarik system towards their main target: the space station known as Omega.

Omega's history was an interesting one. It had started prior to the Krogan Rebellions, when the government-funded Easy-Eezo Industries, had located an eezo-rich asteroid unlike any other. Before this point, the Council was the largest superpower in the time period, reaching out well into where the Terminus Systems would later be. A facility was set up to mine the asteroid, but Easy-Eezo was forced to abandon it upon the outbreak of war with the Tuchankan Empire, who quickly claimed the abandoned asteroid, kept the mining facility and built a large space fortress on the asteroid in an attempt to further the Empire's expansion.

The krogan quickly divised a name for this fortress: Omega. Garrisoned by the Imperial Army's infamously brutal 11th Warband, Omega was planned to be the Empire's launch pad for invasion if they needed an alternative solution to invade Council space.

Decades past however, and the krogan eventually lost the war with the deployment of the genophage bioweapon. Stranded and with nothing to pledge allegiance to, the 11th Warband became a rogue paramilitary organization, keeping Omega as their home. They would use the station as a base of operations for raids throughout Outer Council Space, doing so until the outbreak of what history calls the 'Terminus Revolution': the rebellion of Outer Council worlds against the Council government and their individual bueracracies: they would succeed in their secession, giving birth to the Terminus Systems. One such rebellious faction, led by a turian revolutionary named Drecuns Tanculus, took an army and besieged Omega in an epic engagement known to antiquity as the 'Battle of Omega.' The resulting battle was a victory for Tanculus, who's army would disband and occupy Omega as their home, with Tanculus as their ruler. Eventually, they all engaged in their own criminal enterprises, and Omega became a city station, with no definitive loyalty or flag.

Tanculus later proclaimed himself the first Ruler of Omega. He wasn't the last. Of course, the rest is known: Tanculus was later killed by a krogan named Khurdok Chaggu, who would eventually become known by his derogatory moniker of 'the Patriarch.' And he was succeeded by Aria T'Loak, and she by, technically, Oleg Petrovsky. And so Omega's history was dictated: blood, devastation and infighting. That's what the whole station boiled down to: a shared history of violence and misery, governed by lawlessness, careless leaders and ambitious criminals. One would think its importance diminished once the 11th Warband was wiped out and Tanculus took control of the station a thousand years ago.

Cerberus thought otherwise and, now, so did the UGC.

The geth had never encountered Omega themselves. Given their relative isolation from the rest of the galaxy and their unwillingness to engage with organic life due to the latter's paranoia regarding them, the geth really hadn't gone far enough to encounter the beehive of disorder and chaos. Nor did they desire to. The Old Republic of Rannoch had made very sure to steer clear of such places, as did any government affiliated with the Council following the Terminus Revolution. So now that the geth were (at least gradually) being accepted as members of the galactic community, they were now open to larger exploration. As such, this was the first Hadrian, or any geth, had seen of anything outside the Perseus Veil, especially this far into the Terminus Systems.

From this distance, they couldn't see much. As per the plan, Hadrian had ordered the fleet to approach under cloak. Their technology had quickly been taken advantage of by the UGC, who saw the geth's technological achievements to be amazing, at the very least. The geth were not as enamoured: unlike their organic counterparts, they were not limited by economic distribution and growth/degradation, so therefore resource management, while still extremely important, wasn't as restricted as organics were. So these technological advancements were able to occur at a far more accellerated rate, as organic morals and ideas of economic restrainment were foreign concepts. Plasma weaponry, cloaking on ships, ultraviolet targetting systems favoured over infrared, etc. were all examples of geth superiority over the Council races, which apparently made them an invaluable ally in the war against both the Reapers and Cerberus.

Cerberus, in particular, no longer held the monopoly on nasty surprises and seemingly magical intervention with science.

_We heeded Shepard-Commander's warnings. We did not sit by and argue. We held consensus, and all agreed: Reaper threat was real and preparation for full-scale war was necessary. The Council wasted two years dismissing a threat instead of preparing for it: only reason for their current predicament. Reapers would have had harder time if Council forces had been appriopriately mobilized, equipped and readied. However, organics understandably fear war: do not wish to participate unless forced. Understandable, but unreasonable. War is a necessity. When one's survival is at risk, pacifists must not exist. The Reapers are evil. They do not negotiate, they do not offer terms of surrender or parley: they only desire the complete eradication of all life that is not their own. For this, they must all die. As the Progenitor proclaimed upon all geth: the Reapers are abominations and monstrosities. They are not pure, they are not superior and they are not as advanced as they think they are. They, and all the heretics and servants who serve them, must be annihilated._

The geth were ready, even if the rest of the galaxy was not.

A thousand different data transmissions occurred at once as their fleet approached the asteroid belt. They all stated the same thing.

He responded simply.  _Affirmative. All ships, make final approach. Set necessary course corrections and plot definitive direction. Remain under cloak and do not compromise our positions. Will signal with the dictated positioning for attack. Await further orders._

The asteroid field was indeed closing. Thousands of planetoids floated around in the empty vacuum, all of them kilometers in size and width, all accompanied by millions upon millions of individual, smaller rocks. Swirling and spinning, almost like planets in their own right but long destroyed and barren, more like moons than anything else. And there, right in the midst of it all, was Omega. Its brilliant red and orange glow broke through the dense field of debris, the station being an asteriod itself, colonized and artificially encased in a shell of synthetic materials and superstructures, a long stalk sticking out of the bottom. The asteroid itself, originally named F89, was utterly rich in element zero: so enriched that it was still being mined today and was nowhere close to being drained. When found by the Easy-Eezo company, the asteroid had been cracked open, although it was later found it wasn't always like that: fifty thousand years before, the protheans had attempted to mine it themselves, but couldn't penetrate the thick crust of the planetoid. Around a century after their extinction at the hands of the Reapers, three asteroids collided with F89 and did what even the protheans couldn't: cracked it wide open, revealing the treasure trove underneath, glowing bright blue in all its element zero beauty.

How Omega managed to remain within an asteroid belt without being hit and destroyed was simple: the krogan had built high-powered mass effect fields which they used as a repulsor shield to deflect oncoming asteroids. In emergencies, Omega's outer line of defenses, its archaic but still extremely powerful ET-Z67 Anti-Ship Heavy Gun Batteries (built to tear holes through dreadnoughts), could be used to destroy any undesirables.

_Be advised: when decloaking, disable Omega outer defenses. High-powered shells have a high penetration rate. Target and destroy before engaging Cerberus ships. I will focus on the command ship._

There was still no sign of the Cerberus fleet yet, but this far from the station, it came as no surprise. With no more time to waste, Hadrian's dreadnought was the first ship to enter the asteroid field.

Almost immediately, one of the ship's proximity alarms detected numerous impacts along the ship's starboard hull from dozens of tiny rocks. That didn't cause Hadrian to steer to the side: the large, 12 kilometer long asteroid, did. Diverting power from shields to engines, he gave his ship the necessary boost to just escape the asteroid's reach, missing it, but only just. The other ships of the fleet reported similar incidents, but geth maneveuring prevailed once more in this instance. All as one (or as humans describe it, 'moving like a swarm of bees in formation'), Hadrian's battlegroup navigated the belt, pulling off extreme evasions just to not get hit by an asteroid: if Cerberus, even for one moment, noticed a geth ship getting destroyed by an asteroid, would go on high alert, making any surprise attack harder. But that is why precisely why the geth were chosen to draw first blood.

_We have cloak and precision. We will not fail Shepard-Commander._

The field itself felt almost insurmountable. Kilometers upon kilometers were passed through, but it seemed they were only halfway through it: although this was likely, in part, due to their current engine speed, which was slow so not as to ping on the enemy's LADAR. Even the slightest, major disfigurement of the space around him...even the most rapid of acellerations...would trigger any LADAR, even if under cloak. Sure, Cerberus would likely pass it off as a sensor glitch (not knowing about the cloaking technology), but the risk of allowing Cerberus to be ready was too much. This operation needed to go off knowing that the Cerberus forces would be caught completely offguard. Anything else would result in more casualties than was necessary or acceptable, especially for an operation of this magnitude.

More time passed, minutes went by, without incident. Then, finally, emerging from behind an asteroid, was a Cerberus light frigate.

Hadrian immediately ran a scan of it. It was  _Kyushi_ -class. It had a maximum speed of 18 kilometers per minute at full military thrust, had a light armament that was no match for even the smallest geth ship of similar classification and weight, and looked to be in a stationary position behind the asteroid: it had not detected them, nor did it look to be in battle readiness. All its cannons and defenses were offline, and its shields were down. The geth ships carefully moved around the frigate, making sure to keep their distance so that they didn't get close enough that the LADAR picked them up, speed being irrelevant when that close to an enemy ship.

It didn't take long for incidences of other ships, much like the frigate, being found as they got closer and closer to Omega itself, and the inner 'safe zone' of the belt where no asteroids were present. The moment they reached that safe zone, Hadrian would scatter his ships to their necessary positions and then give the orders to engage. First, they had to get there.

Hadrian made a course direction due east as he came across a wolf pack of four Cerberus stealth frigates to the west, behind a particular large asteroid and their stealth drives currently engaged. It seemed Cerberus had finally managed to mass produce the IES system and replicate it for their own use, although these stealth frigates were clearly of different design to the  _Normandy_ -class vessels. The UGC database turned up nothing, likely meaning that these ships were either new or simply hadn't been encountered before or documented. He made sure to paint the ships on his own LADAR, quickly relaying the positions of the ships to his fleet. He redirected one of his frigates to their position. Further forward, he found five Cerberus light cruisers, led by a single heavy cruiser, CAW  _Westphalia_ , performing a patrol around the belt's inner rim, slowly moving by infront of them. Hadrian made sure to slow sufficiently to let them pass, keeping out of their LADAR range in the process. Once they had passed, it steadily sped up again.

Finally, after untold minutes (exactly 13.28 minutes in real time), Hadrian's dreadnought glided into the safe zone, now safe from asteroids. Undetected, he slowly moved further inside, his battlegroup pinging to inform him they too had entered the area. In a moment, he assessed his surroundings.

Confirmation that Petrovsky was unaware of their presence was right there before them. The bulk of First Fleet's ships weren't even in defensive positions, scattered about the area in stationary positions, with only the occasional patrol even having shields raised. The numbers were staggering, but ultimately nowhere near the size of a proper Alliance fleet. Hadrian had counted at least twenty-five ships in the belt, while the bulk, a total of thirty-eight, lay in select battlegroups or wolf packs across the front of Omega. And Hadrian's specific target, Petrovsky's own dreadnought and flagship CAW  _Elbrus_ , wasn't even powered up: it was connected to one of Omega's docks, engines powered down, shields and weapons offline, and only the most basic of life support and critical systems switched on: he was picking up a faint signature from the vessel's drive core, but aside from that, the  _Elbrus_ was, willingly, dead in the water.

A perfect, irresistably vulnerable target.

Frigates, corvettes, destroyers, light and heavy cruisers, two battleships...even a carrier...all of them occupied the space making up the safe zone. Despite the firepower First Fleet clearly wielded, Hadrian knew the Cerberus fleet was no match for them: firstly, they had the element of surprise. Secondly, the geth ships had superior firepower, weapons and barriers. Thirdly, reinforcements were just a relay away, and any advantage they once held within the asteroid belt was rendered useless by this simple fact. Hadrian was confident he had this battle in the bag.

He made sure to keep an eye on Omega's built-in defenses. The ancient, massive krogan turrets that lined Omega's hull were, curiously, no longer present. In fact, they were entirely absent, the outer ring where they should be located naked and bared to the emptiness of space. Even the rotational bearers where the turrets should be seated were gone. Instead, they were replaced by airlock-looking white and gold doors, the typical golden, enclosed hexagonal insignia painted on them.

_Addendum: Omega defenses no longer presence. Possibly removed by Cerberus and not replaced. Concentration now fully on Cerberus fleet._

Like clockwork, working in the perfect unison that came with the wholeness of those that were one with the geth consensus, Hadrian distributed his ships. He made sure his heavier, more firepower-heavy ships were relegated to Cerberus' equally lethal warships, ensuring that Cerberus couldn't bring their heavier guns to bear. His lighter ships were relegated to the lesser warships, such as corvettes, frigates, destroyers and cruisers. With this in mind, this allows Hadrian to focus entirely on the  _Elbrus_ , cutting off the metaphorical head of the proverbial snake.

Over a minute passed as Hadrian's battlegroup fell into position, invisible predators descending upon their unsuspecting prey. Weapons were primed, shields raised, announcements relayed. Hadrian himself ordered his ship's main gun to aim dead center with the  _Elbrus_ ' starboard-side keel, slightly towards the rear for maximum damage. He felt the ship vibrate slightly as power was rerouted to fire the main gun. The weapon brimmed with superheated energy, along with other weapons systems across the vessel. He noted several geth interceptors flanking the side of the dreadnought, ready to decloak and defend the ship from any Cerberus fighters.

When the announcement was made fleet wide that all ships were in position and ready, awaiting his orders.

Hadrian didn't hesitate. He gave the order.

Like ghosts arriving from a parallel dimension, geth ships suddenly appeared out of nowhere all across the Cerberus defensive line, crackles of energy and vibrations in space announcing their arrival. Small and large, geth warships appeared next to their prey.

The Cerberus crews were likely given enough time to blink. That was all the time they got.

Hadrian's dreadnought shook violently as a massive bolt of plasma blasted from the ship's bow, shooting forward quickly, closing the space between his dreadnought and the  _Elbrus_ within mere seconds. In a brillant purple flash, the bolt slammed into the back of Petrovsky's flagship, tearing through its heavy armor like it was tissue paper. The superheated, bright fire devoured fortified metal and steel quickly, exposing numerous decks within seconds to decompression. The bolt continued right up through the back of the ship, blasting out the dorsal structure and leaving a path of exposed decks and ruptured armor. The entire back of the ship is twisted backward, snapping the spine of the vessel and causing it to warble aggressively, its back slamming against Omega's hull, crushing everything between its enormous weight and the hull itself.

A few more seconds passed before Hadrian detected a massive energy spike throughout the vessel. A titanic flash originated from the back, the drive core detonating explosively. The explosion itself completely disintegrated what was left of its shredded tailend, debris sent flying out in numerous directions. More explosions tore along the snapped spine of the  _Elbrus_ , the kinetic force of the shockwaves causing it to snap off the docking clamp, the docking clamp itself broken to the point of hanging limply, bashing back against Omega's exterior with a muted clang. The momentum from the shockwaves causes the wounded dreadnought slowly gliding outwards into space, the explosions blowing debris off the hull. With its superstructure totally eviscerated, the  _Elbrus_ ' delicate body is sheared in half, the final explosion blowing it completely apart. Hadrian watched indifferently as what was left of the  _Elbrus_ , two large, almost unrecognizable, chunks, were scattered to space. Fires erupted and were snuffed, leaving it just random chunks of charred metal, gliding away from it eerily peacefully.

The  _Elbrus_ was no more.

Hadrian quickly assessed the situation fleet wide. One of his battleships had engaged one of the Cerberus battleships, CAW  _North Atlantic_ , the two ships engaging in a brief broadside-to-broadside engagement. The geth ship prevailed, plasma weaponry chewing up the battleship quickly and efficiently. By the end of the battle, the Cerberus battleship was a barren hulk, escape pods being launched from its starboard side due to the port side being almost entirely razed, entire gun emplacements and airlocks obliterated from the firepower. The  _North Atlantic_ tilted lazily in space, the ship almost completely abandoned as the geth ship moved on to First Fleet's only carrier, the CAW  _Liberator_. The wrecks of Cerberus vessels were quickly being scattered across the area, the Fleet finding itself scrambling confusingly to defend itself as ship upon ship fell to the sudden invaders, lacking proper command due to the destruction of their flagship.

Flashes of plasma and booms of conventional projectiles danced across space as desperate retaliation was made. The battle was already beginning to turn in favor of the geth invasion force, the Cerberus First Fleet beginning to falter as Hadrian ordered the push forward. He received confirmation that the Cerberus stealth frigates had been neutralized. Seeing the brief battle was now theirs, he distributed the signal for their reinforcements to make for the relay.

Hadrian's sensors quickly detected four destroyers firing upon his dreadnought, their projectiles bouncing harmlessly off his ship's powerful kinetic barriers. He quickly relayed the command for the port cannons to fire, the ship's hull shaking with the  _boom, boom, boom_ of the recoiling main guns. The lead destroyer was hit directly on its bow, shields made meaningless as the plasma bolt assaulted its bow. Penetrating deeply into the ship, the destroyer's bridge was likely destroyed almost immediately, crippling the vessel. The other three destroyers attempt evasive maneveurs while continuing to fire upon his ship. A volley of plasma torpedoes was fired at the leftmost destroyer, while the rest of his ship's firepower was regulated to the other two, including his interceptor escort.

The first two torpedoes missed, but the third clipped the engines of the left destroyer, its momentum causing it to spin from the impact. While the navigator likely tried to right the ship, a fourth torpedo was fired, impacting center mass. The destroyer is blown apart, the explosion tearing it apart in an blast of tumultuous chaos. The other two are crippled when they get too close to his ship, allowing his interceptors to dodge their AA, destroy their drive cores and, as a result, obliterate the opposing ships.

His sensors detected a surge of activity as the system's mass relay sped up, ships shooting through it. Reinforcements quickly arrived as Aria's mercenary fleet, followed by the quarians and rachni ships. Ship after ship appeared, dozens of vessels converging on Omega at flank speed: despite not picking them up on sensors, Hadrian could tell the  _Normandy_ was leading the formation. Hadrian estimated their arrival at being several minutes, knowing that once they arrived, they would devide the Cerberus attention so severely that they would have no chance of winning the naval battle.

In that moment, Cerberus would have a choice: escape or fight to the death. If Cerberus valued Omega, they would fight to the death. If not, they would attempt escape. They would soon find out.

A light cruiser appeared on sensors, pursued by two geth frigates, heading straight for Hadrian's command ship. One of the geth frigates was severely damaged, while another possessed half shields. They attempted to stop the damaged light cruiser, but it managed to dodge each of their shots, all while heading straight for Hadrian's ship.

He opened fire while moving hard to port. Most of his fire missed due to the cruiser moving at full speed, Hadrian already guessing what it was attempting to do. While he tried his best to move away, and likely saved his ship in the process, he was unable to thwart the cruiser captain's intentions. The light cruiser clipped the dreadnought's side, part of its hull torn off as it tore along the dreadnought's hull, making a thirty meter graze along its side. The ship shook from the impact, but he was glad he had managed to escapr he captain's attempted collision course. Its wing torn off and currently wedged within the ship's hull, the cruiser spun out of control until he crashed into Omega's exterior, its spine snapped in half instantly and torn apart by the collision, whatever debris that was left spinning with increasing momentum in every possible direction, while one chunk of the ship was buried into the station, hanging out like an unwanted, disfigured thorn.

Just as Hadrian thought the battle was in the bag, something caught his eye on the screen. He zoomed in at Omega's outer ring, where the krogan main guns should be, but no longer were. The 'airlocks' suddenly shot open, white and golden doors sliding away as a large object emerged from within. Each of the doors did this as dozens of these large objects deployed onto the surface. It looked like a large, white box with golden stripes, all stamped with the Cerberus logo. Within a few seconds, a barrel extended from it piece by piece, until it was fully deployed, revealing the new, upgraded Cerberus defensive guns.

Before Hadrian could order his ships to engage and destroy the guns however, one of them fired. A bright, crimson lance of energy reached out across space and struck the nearest geth frigate: the one that was lightly damaged. It sliced through the frigate and erupted out the other end, and the cannon tilted left, slicing the geth ship in half. The two chunks glided away with explosive departure, its life ended in seconds.

Hadrian immediately recognized the technology.  _A particle cannon. Origins unknown, likely adopted from salvaged Collector technology._

Another cannon fired, destroying another geth frigate. Hadrian didn't wait any longer to order a complete withdrawal, knowing that if he continued to fight and try to destroy the cannons he would lose more ships than what was acceptable. He distributed the order and immediately reinitiated cloak, his dreadnought disappearing in moments before speeding away from the station. The rest of his battlegroup did the same, abandoning their assault on First Fleet to fall back. Hadrian could at least take pride in having significantly halved the Cerberus forces, but he knew he couldn't keep it up with those cannons hounding them.

_Those cannons need to be eliminated before any further assault can take place. Naval engagement of cannons would be suicidal, even with reinforcements. Will disengage to safe distance and await further orders from Shepard-Commander._

The geth ships retreated and the Cerberus fleet reassembled, severely wounded but ready to fight back. But the geth had made their presence known, and the UGC would soon bring the hammer down and finish them off.

But first, those cannons  _had_ to go.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1533 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of Sahrabarik._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak, Lieutenant Bray._

"EDI, let the rest of the fleet know. Joker, all stop."

_Fuck. Invasion's only just started and we've already run into our first hiccup._

EDI, nor Joker, wasted any time in carrying out his orders, Joker quickly bringing all propulsion on the ship to a complete halt, just before reaching the debris field. EDI relayed the necessary orders and it wasn't long before the entire fleet came to a stop as well. The SSV  _Fuji_ , Jarral's personal flagship, glided ahead of them, but nonetheless ceased all movement, awaiting any further orders.

Hadrian's warning had been clear: while he had put a large dent in First Fleet's numbers, as well as successfully destroying the  _Elbrus_ (much to Aria's glee), Omega's defenses had been significantly upgraded, with Petrovsky replacing the older krogan cannons with more powerful and lethal particle ship-to-ship cannons, likely built from reverse-engineered Collector technology. What few shots had gone off had destroyed a few of Hadrian's ships within an instant, forcing him to safely withdraw, allowing Cerberus to regroup. Still, the damage done to their numbers was irrecoverable, and they would not be able to repel a second assault from their fleet. However, while those cannons were up, the fleet would have the necessary fire support to repel any further attacks, leaving them at an empasse.

"Those particle cannons must be destroyed or disabled if we are to proceed or launch any further attempts to engage First Fleet, Shepard-Commander," Hadrian declared, talking to them from the bridge of his dreadnought, which had managed to escape the particle cannon barrage, "They will destroy our ships the moment we get in range. I can count at least thirty individual cannons surrounding the station. Combined with the remaining Cerberus ships, they will make any boarding effort risky and extremely unlikely to succeed. Recommend a tactical withdrawal."

Marcus shook his head, his hands gripping the pilot seat where Joker sat. Before he could say anything, Aria laughed, standing forward and replying with anything but amusement, "We are not going back, captain. We've barely started. We go back now, we won't get an opportunity like this again. We cannot turn back."

He nodded, "If you had let me speak, I would have shared the same sentiment. We cannot let all this planning go to waste because of some cannons. My squad took on the Collector Base with just one ship and a squad. If we could do that, we can take this station with the force we have. We just have to find a way around those cannons."

Hadrian was quick to make sure they knew the possibility of that idea, "Negative. Omega's outer ring is lined with these cannons. Every single angle to the station will be covered, and it appears the cannons have a full 360 degree axis. They have pinpoint accurate targetting, so any approach will be met harshly. There is no way around the cannons, nor is there anyway to destroy them without getting dangerously close to the cannons or getting within their range. I do not recommend it."

"I must concur," Gerrel added, now added over the comm link, "I will not risk my ships on a foolhardly charge that'll only end with meaningless deaths."

"I will not fucking retreat  _again_ ," Aria snarled, brimming with a dim blue glow, "Not again! I showed that asshole my back, but I will not show it again! We are taking that fucking station!"

"Well unless you have a-" Marcus began, only to be cut off by EDI.

"Shepard," the AI began, turning to him with a frown, "We are being hailed. I...I believe it is Petrovsky."

He frowned, turning back to her, frowning, "What? How...? He shouldn't even know we're here. Our IES is active, isn't it?"

"It is possible that by reverse engineering Collector technology, Cerberus has managed to use the Collector's method of detecting us while in stealth mode," EDI offered, to which Marcus sighed, muscles tightening.

_Even on the defensive, Cerberus finds a way to outdo us. Again._

Marcus turned to Aria, looking for her input. She simply looked at him, her biotics dimming until they were gone. She sighed, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths as if to calm herself. Bray watched her with some concern, likely worried about his leader. She eventually opened her eyes and exhaled one final time, waving a dismissive hand.

He turned back and nodded to EDI, "Put him through, EDI."

Petrovsky's voice came through the comms almost immediately, the link established extremely quickly, "Shepard? I am impressed. Cerberus always seems to find you at every critical juncture. Wherever we go, and wherever you go, we always seem to collide. It would seem we're connected."

"General Petrovsky," Marcus began, straightening as he clasped his hands behind his back, "I believe this is the first time we've met. I've certainly heard much about you."  _Know your enemy._

Petrovsky seemed happy about that, "All good, I hope. I've heard nothing but praise regarding you and your exemplary service record. You're quite the legendary figure, captain. Your many exploits are well documented throughout the galaxy. Your stand on Elysium. Your charge on Torfan. Your survival on Akuze. Taking down Saren, destroying the Collector Base, curing the genophage, making peace between the quarians and the geth...the more I hear, the more I must stand in awe. I will admit, it is an honor to meet you, captain. But I fear we find ourselves on the wrong sides of the white line."

"That's very subjective, general," Marcus replied calmly.

"Ah, you're of course...correct. There is no clear black and white areas. We live in a world of grey, and I must strain to call myself a 'good guy' in all this. We are all responsible for our own designs, captain. Your departure from Cerberus was...unfortunate. Your choice in loyalty is questionable, but I'm not here to try and convert you. We believe what we believe. Just understand our values will always collide in objection, as they do now. The woman I know you're helping...Aria T'Loak," Aria stormed forward at that, but said nothing as Petrovsky continued to speak, "...she looks at the past bitterly and with irritation, rather than something to move on from. She's enlisted you into this ridiculous charade, making you believe you'll benefit something from it. She can't accept defeat...she never could. It impedes her judgment."

"Fuck you, Petrovsky," Aria growled, Marcus glaring at her.

"Miss T'Loak, a pleasure to meet you again," Petrovsky stated almost immediately, sounding so calm and collected as to be careless or unbelievably confident. He didn't seem at all annoyed or taken aback by Aria's words, "Last we met, I told you to leave. You did so, but it seems you never intended to stay away. You stayed true to your promise, and I commend that. But I must advise against this."

"Of course you would say that, Petrovsky," Aria argued, looking beyond furious. It was clear her hatred for this man was beyond anything Marcus could understand, "I promised you I would return to take my station, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. You and your Cerberus buddies aren't welcome."

"I have forty thousand troops in entrenched positions across the station, supplemented by combat mechs and armoured support," Petrovsky declared, remaining unchanged, despite Aria's apparent confidence, "Despite my fleet's losses, you'll find Omega's defenses are...more than adequate to repel any offense. Captain," he turned the conversation back to Marcus, "I applaud your use of the geth to outmaneveur my ships: I knew Aria couldn't be behind such a tactic. However, I see you went to all the effort of bringing the best force you could. An exorbitant waste of time."

"Oh, and why is that?" Aria replied snarkily.

"I've gone to my own effort of upgrading Omega's outer defenses. My cannons will cut through you at will," the general stated with his annoyingly confident tone, "There's no part of this where you win, Aria. Withdraw your ships and make for the relay, and I promise my ships will not pursue."

"Oh yes, I know how you keep your promises," Aria added bitterly, although Marcus knew Petrovsky was a man of his word: he more than likely would allow Shepard and his force to leave. If there was anything Marcus could respect about Petrovsky, it was his tactical brilliance, his refusal to harm civilians and that he was generally an honourable man. Marcus had no doubt that if Petrovsky said something, he meant it.

"I say again...turn back," the general cautioned, "There is no part of this equation where you come out ontop, Aria. You're a smart man, Shepard. You've done the impossible, but you are not capable of twisting reality. You must see that any assault you make will fail."

Marcus nodded, but ultimately sighed, "Fate had us become foes, Petrovsky. In another life, I think would have made great allies. You're a good man. An honourable man. An enemy from Cerberus I can respect. And while I have no doubt you're a man who keeps his promises, I must refuse. You work for an organization I despise, one that has done despicable acts and one whose goals do not align with ours. The Reapers must be destroyed, but the organization you work for would impede our attempts to save the galaxy. In the end, the UGC needs Omega and you're holding it. We're not leaving without this station, General. I'm sorry."

There was a sigh over the comms, "I'm disappointed, captain. I was hoping it would not come to this. I will show you the same respect by saying that I find it unfortunate that we must now fight as enemies, but you have made your choice. So..." there was a pause, followed by a final addendum, "May the best man win."

He then ended the transmission.

"Well..." Joker began, trailing off. When nobody else spoke, he began tapping his fingers idly on the chair's arm, whistling, "...he doesn't lack for confidence."

"He has every right to be," EDI pointed out, "Despite our initial assault, we have yet to destroy the Cerberus fleet, their particle cannons can and will repel any attempt we make to approach the station now and even if we got on the ground, he has an almost limitless supply of troops to call upon to engage us."

"Everything man has made can be destroyed," Marcus emphasized, stroking his chin in thought, "In other words, those particle cannons can be dealt with, we just have to figure out how. Obviously taking them out through direct firepower is out of the question, and simply ignoring them and deploying ground forces is out of the question: we'll lose too many men to take the station in that case. So that leaves one alternative...we have to find the power source for the cannons and destroy it."

"How would you even know where to find that?" Joker asked incredulously, swivelling around in his chair to face them with a laugh, "I mean, it could be anywhere. Petrovsky could be sitting right next to it at Afterlife. It could be so deep in the station as to be unreachable. It could be attached to a bloody asteroid for all we know! Where do we even begin to look?"

To everyone's surprise, Aria was the one with an answer to that question, "Actually, I think I might know."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at the asari, requiring some elaboration, "Aria?"

"The old power generator for the krogan gun batteries Petrovsky replaced was located in the Zeta District. It was located as part of the Gunnery Control Station, which was a part of the station the krogan built that's still there: it was used to control all the guns, so therefore it made sense to put it there."

Bray decided to end that train of thought, "So it stands to reason Petrovsky would simply route the power for his new guns through the old GCS in the Zeta District. Which means it could now be there."

"Do we know that for certain, though?" Joker asked, still slightly skeptical, "I mean...what if he put it somewhere else? We'd be risking a lot focusing on one area, especially one we don't know will be correct."

"Petrovsky is smart. He would know that to have enough power to get those kind of guns to work, you'd need to reroute enormous amounts from elsewhere, or simply use the same network, but just replace the generator with a more up-to-date and powerful generator," Bray retorted, "He won't waste time ripping up circuitry when he can use the same area. Besides, it's not exactly exposed: it's fairly deep into the Zeta District. No ship could destroy it."

"So the only option is to blow a hole, like previously planned, but this time on the deck the Zeta District is on, and we need to disable the cannons before the rest of the invasion force can land," Marcus reiterated.

Upon Bray's nod of confirmation, Joker turned around, exhaling with some mild frustration, "Just great. So we're sending you in ahead of everyone else...alone."

"With the full squad, Joker," the N7 corrected, already dressed in his combat armor and weapons readied. His entire squad was waiting in the armoury already, having done so in preparation for rapid deployment, "Including Jack and her students: we're going to need a lot of firepower if we want to reach that generator. Aria, you may want to come with as well," he turned to the asari, who nodded, "We're also going to need explosives. If we're going to take down those cannons, might as well make sure it's for good. We don't want Cerberus bringing them back up later on."

Aria nodded with a smirk, "I like your thinking, Shepard."

"This is so stupid," Joker stated. Before Marcus could say anything to that, Joker held up his hands defensively, chuckling, "But hey, stupid is what we do. I'm not going to stop you. Any of you. Just tell me where to shoot."

_Then let's get this show on the road._

He turned to EDI next, quick to file out his new orders as he signalled Aria to follow him down the flight deck to the elevator, "EDI, contact the squad. Tell them to get their weapons and ready the geth tank. We're going in. Also, tell James to bring a shitload of C7 or whatever explosives he can carry. Same goes for everyone. If we're going in, we're going in heavy."

"Understood, Shepard," EDI's distant voice replied as Marcus turned back, Aria right on his heels, as he moved around the galaxy map. He saluted Kelly and Samantha, he gave him a quick salute in return before returning to work at their stations. The two of them stepped into the elevator, Marcus hitting the button for Deck 5. Silence followed as the ship began to move into the asteroid field, engaging their new cloak as they moved towards Omega. The two of them simply stood there, both of them full of anticipation but both for different reasons, tensing up and rearing to go. They did not talk or exchange conversation: they didn't even look at each other. Just silence.

Before long, the elevator came to a stop, followed by the doors sliding open. Marcus and Aria emerged into the shuttle bay, where the entire squad was ready and armed, practically all covered head to toe in some sort of weapon and armor: Moses stood tall and imposing over all of them, the geth prime being the latest addition to their team. Jack and her students stood nearby as well, accompanied by Cortez, with Jack looking to be teasing the pilot about something. They all turned to address Marcus and Aria as they walked in, with Garrus speaking out first.

"So we're the lone vanguard," the turian shook his head with a chuckle, patting Marcus on the shoulder as he finally closed the distance and joined them, having James toss his geth pulse rifle to him. He caught the weapon gracefully and slapped a thermal clip into it, making sure the weapon was ready to fire on a moment's notice, "We can't ever stop being the lone wolves. It's like the Collector Base all over again."

"Except we won't be on our own for all of it," Marcus replied, to which Garrus gave a simple nod in acknowledgement of his point. He turned to his squad, laying out his plan, "Joker's taking us in under cloak. As you all know, Petrovsky's surprise particle cannons has forced us to make a change in plan. As per planned, Joker will blow a hole into the station and we'll deploy through it, but instead it'll be through the Zeta District, not Fulmuk. We're going to locate the generator powering those guns and our mission is to destroy it. Once, and only once, those cannons are down, can our ships come in, mop up the remnants of First Fleet, and then began landing our army. We'll be going in first, but we're hardly alone. We've got each other, and as you know, Jack and her students will be joining us, so that's a bonus. I hope you've brought enough explosives, because I have no idea how much we'll need."

"We brought our whole stock, Loco," James remarked, holding up his own bandolier of explosive goods, "Everything that wasn't bolted down or a nuke, basically."

"You could say it was a little excessive," Kaidan joked.

"Enough's never enough, eh James?" the human spectre replied, causing James to shout out a 'hoo-rah!' in response.

He turned back to them, before pointing to the geth tank, "Our squad will be deploying in the tank. Moses is too big for the tank, so he'll be dropping the usual geth way. As for Jack and her students, Cortez will drop them via shuttle. We'll meet at the same area and push forward to the GCS. Aria knows the way, she'll show us there. No doubt Cerberus will fight us every step of the way, so be prepared for a fuck ton of resistance. Nothing we can't handle, of course."

"We fought the assholes before," Jack's voice boomed, slamming a fist on a nearby crate, "They ain't so fucking tough! We'll toss 'em around like rag dolls, won't we kids!?"

"Yes ma'am!" They all shouted in unison.

"Damn. Fucking. Right!" Jack shouted, before turning back to Marcus with a sadistic grin, "We're ready to roll some heads, boy scout."

He simply smiled back, before making his way through the line towards the tank, "Then what are we waiting for!? We are green and very mean, troopers! Let's show Cerberus how it's done!"

It didn't take long for the squad to pile into the tank, Marcus naturally taking the controls: Aria sat beside him, insisting on a front row seat. It was a tight squeeze due to the size of their squad and the interior of the tank being cramped, but they managed. Once Cortez had powered up the shuttle and Jack and her students were all loaded up, the  _Normandy_ 's shuttle pilot gave them the go ahead, letting them know he was ready. With Moses also announcing his own readiness, Marcus only had one thing to wait for.

He soon got it when the shuttle bay door began to open.

He hit the acellerator, and he didn't hold back.

Everything went into slow motion as the geth tank cleared the deck, shooting off into the blank abyss of space. He could see the  _Normandy_ was close enough that the guns couldn't get a bead on it, and so the geth tank would inevitably reach its target. Cortez's shuttle shot past, immediately making headway for the hole that had been opened. Joker had done a number on it, that's for sure: his single javelin torpedo had torn through the hull, decompressed the entire area (of course, until mass effect compression fields kicked in) and damaged the interior. This also likely meant any Cerberus troopers in the area would be alerted to their location, but that hardly mattered at this time. Moses was next to drop by, the geth prime grabbing the side of the tank to use as an anchor. His weight also ensured the tank dropped closer to its target.

Seconds passed as they got closer and closer, Marcus and the squad watching Cortez's shuttle land and Jack and her students deploy, looking like they had been engaged by Cerberus immediately due to the fact they had rushed out with biotics blazing, throwing warp fields and shockwaves in every direction in an attempt to hold back the Cerberus troops.

A few more seconds passed...and then...

Suddenly, sound erupted into their world, and the squad held onto dear life as the tank slammed into the ground, crushing a guardian under its weight, skidding across the deck with a hideous screech of metal upon metal, taking two more unlucky troopers under its weight before the rest were forced to fall back or were killed by their biotic visitors. Marcus brought the tank around, Moses jumping off as he immediately brought up his cannon and blasted at a phantom, blowing the top part of their torso off in an awesome spray of blood and gore, painting the floor with their body parts in just one shot. Moses then rushed off to join the battle.

Before Marcus could order Garrus onto the cannon, the hatch opened, Marcus turning to see that Aria was no longer standing beside him. He turned too late to find the hatch now closed, Aria rushing out towards the Cerberus lines with a furious war cry. Her body glowed brilliant blue as she swiped a centurion off his feet and slammed him into the wall on the left, bashing him against it again and again until every bone in his body was broken. She tossed him aside like he was nothing, Marcus hearing her chuckles as she began to approach a trio of assault troopers, the soldiers bringing up their rifles to defend themselves.

It wouldn't be enough.

"I'm back, you  _ **fuckers**_!" Aria snarled, sprinting towards the troopers, "Tell your boss I'm  _ **coming for him**_!"

**"Petrovsky was quite the foe. I think we spent so much time seeing Cerberus as pure evil that we didn't realize there could be honourable people within its ranks."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"He was. In the end, neither his affiliation or his brains saved him. But hey...spoilers."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"So what next? Your assault had obviously begun."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Indeed it had. First, we needed to disable those guns. A relatively simple task. What came after...not so simple."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Before you begin thinking, 'Shit, that was quick: another chapter already? Is this going to be a new trend?' No. Again, just found some extra time to write and decided to use it to...well, write. I can't promise a new chapter anytime soon, just as I can't promise it won't be soon, because what time I have to use for writing is dependent on how I use it. So...just be mindful of that!** _

_**First official chapter of the Omega arc! Shit's getting interesting, is it not? I've said this before, but this is the longest arc in IV: Holocaust so far, so I hope you're excited, because this'll take a while. I know I'm excited, especially with Mass Effect: Andromeda coming out March 23! (I know its March 21 in the States, but I'm Australian, and for some reason we're getting it two days later...even though we don't normally. We usually get it the same day the States do, but whatever).** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	64. Fearing Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's team lands on Omega, and quickly pushes to neutralize Omega's defensive cannons. Petrovsky plans for a counterattack. The Deliverance departs to deal with the Normandy. Nyreen watches as UGC forces arrive on Omega.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY:**

**FEARING SUCCESS**

_August 5, 2186_

_1540 hours._

_Hangar Bay 28, Rubicon Quadrant, Zeta District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Zeta District._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Moses, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez,_ _First Lieutenant Jack, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak._

Marcus wasn't far behind, his weapon raised as he dashed out of the tank, dashing from the hatch, Javik, Tali, Keeling, Kaidan and James not far behind. He watched as Aria swatted the trio of assault troopers aside like they were nothing, the asari snarling loudly enough to be mistaken for a female shatha as she gruesomely dissected a nearby centurion with nothing but her everflowing dark energy.

Marcus brought forth his own in support, as did Javik, their blue and green biotics working in tandem as they sent forth a blast of biotic energy comparable to a freight train in strength, crates and cover being lifted into the air, revealing the Cerberus combatants hiding behind them. They stood up, only to be knocked over as Marcus and Javik sent the cover flying backwards, slamming into them and knocking several on their backs. Marcus took this moment to summon more energy and shoot himself forward, his motion a blur as he appeared directly in the middle of the enemy squad in a split second. Rifle in one hand, he turned and aimed at a charging trooper, tearing into him with high-velocity plasma pellets. He whirled around and activated his omni-blade, thrusting it into the skull of one of the troopers still in the ground, pulling it out with a sizzle of blood.

He turned and fired into the kneecap of another charging trooper, this one a centurion, who had his stun baton out and brandished. He stumbled, momentum carrying him to the ground where Marcus developed a swift kick to the front of his helmet, the force snapping his neck. The trooper accompanying him swung at Marcus with his own baton, screaming obscenities, only for Marcus to envelop said arm in a tight lock, pulling the arm back roughly to break it. A crack, followed by a roar of agony, ended by Marcus slamming his omni-blade into the soldier's belly, pulling it back out and rushing for cover as Cerberus reinforcements poured into the warehouse, opening fire and littering the ground he had occupied moments before with a hellfire of bullets. He even saw a biotic warp impact the ground, indicating a dragoon was on the field.

As Javik opened up with his particle rifle, the steady thrum of it firing followed by a bright lance of energy scatching through the air, a body slammed into the crate beside Marcus, the N7 turning to see a familiar form, fresh from her recent slaughter and carrying a few specks of red blood on her face and otherwise pure-white vest.

"Nice of you to wait for us, Aria," Marcus remarked with a slight frown, wincing slightly as Garrus opened up with the geth tank's main gun, pelting the Cerberus troops flooding through the doorway with heavy plasma fire. Moses was also making his presence known, the loud cacophony of pulse cannon fire echoing through the warehouse as he remained a goliath slicing through waves upon waves of soldiers in white and gold, their weapons feeling like mere mosquito bites against his formidable shielding.

Javik looked to be in his element, using a combination of biotics and particle weapon discharging to keep Cerberus troops pinned and unable to advance. Any flanking attempts were quickly dealt with by Kaidan and Keeling, who used their marksmanship skills to keep an eye on the enemy's movements and counter whatever tactic they used. James used his Revenant as a non-stop battering ram of firepower, a maelstrom of bullets pelting those lucky enough to have survived Moses and Garrus' onslaught. And that wasn't counting the rest of the squad, who, except for Garrus, were now filing out of the tank one by one to join the fray, each taking their own positions on the flank and center to keep Cerberus suppressed and unable to expel them. Jack and her students were running wild, a tempest of dark energy tearing apart even the armoured guardian units.

"I apologize if my homesickness got the better of me, captain," Aria replied with a smile, pulling out her M-11 wraith shotgun, checking over the sleek chrome finish before wracking the slot, sighing happily at the beautiful sound. Tali quickly joined Aria on her left, shotgun tearing the leg off a phantom attempting to flank them. Her feminine electronic scream was the last noise she made before Tali fired again, the phantom's head disappearing in a spray of crimson, headless corpse slumping to the ground. Shortly after, the phantom's sword seemed to lift into the air all on its own, Kasumi, now cloaked, rushing forth to decapitate an assault trooper with it.

"I like the sword, but it's definitely not my style," she joked over the comms, "I'll stick to guns. Also, dragoon, on your right, Shep."

Omni-blade ready, Marcus elbowed the dragoon in the nose, knocking it back before he delivered a quick jab at the heart, energy piercing armor and bone to pierce his heart. The dragoon dropped dead, barely a sound made as he came back in time to dodge another hail of bullets, "Thanks, Kasumi."

"We're pushing them back!" Garrus shouted, "Now would be a good time to make a push before they get reinforcements!"

"Agreed," Marcus announced, before turning back, yelling over the screech of gunfire, "All forward! Make for the doorway! Jack, have your students provide support. Garrus, keep doing what you're doing. Javik, take Keeling, Kaidan and James and push center right. Moses, take the others and push center left. Aria, Tali, Kasumi...you're with me. Hit their right flank, divert their attention. Kill every last one of them."

Jack and her students pulled back as ordered, but didn't let up on their biotic barrage, a non-stop flow of blue energy cascading across the field to batter enemy lines, sending some flying from cover and into the open where they could be gunned down by Javik and Moses' teams. Marcus led Aria, Kasumi and Tali up the enemy's right, where they had left themselves heavily exposed. Another dragoon took notice of them, sending a biotic flare towards them. Aria battered it aside, followed by another, before lifting the dragoon up and pinning him to the ceiling, holding him there as Marcus, Kasumi and Tali crouched and poured bullets and plasma into the enemy flank. Six troopers fell instantly from the blaze, a centurion and a nemesis falling shortly after as they also succumbed. The rest fell like flies, while the half dozen left retreated through the doorway, one dragging an injured comrade with him, leaving a long smear of red blood on the ground. What few injured were left were gunned down by Javik, who showed no remorse for his enemy.

With an exhalation of breath, Marcus slammed a fresh clip into his rifle, turning to the shuttle, "Cortez, get back to the  _Normandy_ , but make sure to steer clear of those cannons. Garrus, leave the tank, we can have Grunt and his men take it to Aria's bunker once we've secured a clean LZ. Everyone else, prepare to advance. Squad, fall in with me. Jack, have you and students remain behind us in support. Aria, you lead the way. I want a clean sweep of all sectors and remember to stay frosty. Cerberus has had plenty of time to make themselves at home, and I don't want any surprises. Stock up on ammunition, lick your wounds and let's get back to it."

Taking a quick look around their new surroundings, Marcus realized that what had been a storage warehouse had been converted into a hangar bay. The glowing words "Hangar Bay 28" hung on the wall above them, gleaming brightly with the Cerberus logo above it. Several white and gold SX3 Thunderbolt fighters lay in their docking cradles raised above deck, along with two SX5 Yellowjacket interceptors, three SX7A Hornet bombers and one SX7 Nightstalker heavy bomber, all of them covered wing to tail in white and gold Cerberus colors. All of them were powered down though, their pilots having had no opportunity to reach them as Marcus and his men secured the hangar bay. And considering this was only the twenty-eighth bay...

"When those cannons are down, I want the OLF to secure these hangar bays," Marcus declared as they approached the door, "If we do, we'll cripple Cerberus' air force here. They'll have to scramble fighters and bombers from their carriers, and they won't be much of a problem once the cannons are gone anyway. We cannot allow Cerberus to keep these. That'll be be the OLF's first objective: secure the hangar bays, then torch and burn. We can't have it, neither can they."

"Destroy?" Aria asked, incredulous, "We could use these against them."

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head, "No Aria, we can't. We can't afford the men that we would need to secure and hold these hangar bays. You think Petrovsky will let us keep them? He will send troops to retake these bays, and if he secures even one of them, we've lost the advantage. It would be better to simply destroy them to ensure he doesn't get it no matter what. Besides, we have a fleet: we hardly need them."

Aria waved a hand dismissively, "It's your battle plan, Shepard. Do what you think is necessary."

"Good. Once the cannons are down, the contents of these bays are to be demoed before we advance any further," Marcus motioned to the doorway, keeping his rifle stock pinned firmly against this shoulder, "For now, we push forward. Aria, where to next? We need to get to those generators, ASAP. We're vulnerable enough as it is."

Aria brushed past him with a roll of the eyes, keeping her shotgun close to her chest as she checked the path ahead. She licked her lips, nodding, "We're a couple decks below where we need to be. We'll need to go through the Zeta courtyard, up the flight of stairs, then advance through to the tram station. From there, we should be able to take a tram straight to the gunnery control deck. If my money is bargained correctly, Petrovsky will have stocked up his generators there. Take those out, and his cannons are finished. No doubt Cerberus will have it neatly defended, though."

"We'll deal with that as it comes," he turned to his squad and nodded, "Let's move. Once Petrovsky knows where we're headed, we'll have to move quickly. There's no telling what contingencies he might have," he turned to James, EDI and Garrus with the stoic frown of his "commander" mode, "Do you have the explosives?"

"Sure thing, Loco," James replied with a smirk, holding up the second bandolier wrapped around his chest, this one lined with C12, "Enough to penetrate the armor of a light cruiser."

"Careful now, James," Garrus piped up, grinning, "Explosives are dangerous. You shouldn't play with them. Shame on you Marcus for letting a child play around with them."

"Fuck off, Vakarian," James spat playfully, a grin of his own matching that of the turian sniper, "You should keep those talons slightly blunt. Perhaps you need a manicure before you start handling bombs yourself."

"Look at that. The child has been offended," Garrus chuckled, mandibles clicking with delight, "Besides, Vega: I've got to keep my talons sharp. Lots of soldiers to kill. That's why they're useful. Your human fingernails couldn't scratch an asari, let alone body armor."

"Perfect for using bombs, wouldn't you say?" James joked in return.

"If it were an adult using them, sure."

"How ironically childish."

"A smart child is still a child, Vega."

"Zip it, both of you," Marcus ordered, popping up his head through the doorway to check for hostiles. Judging by the blood smear, Cerberus had retreated towards the courtyard, having moved through the doorway down the hall on the right. Grunting, he lifted his rifle and motioned to Garrus and Keeling, "You two, take point. I'll cover your six. The rest of you, hold here, advance as ordered. We'll clear the area ahead. I want radio silence until contact with the enemy is verified."

Garrus was quick to follow orders, his mattock brandished and ready, with Keeling joining him with her own valkyrie rifle. Marcus, holding up two fingers for a moment, then motioned them forward, giving them both the go ahead. Both Garrus and Keeling fast walked into the hallway, their weapons covering both sides, before moving on the doorway. Marcus followed behind them quietly, his rifle scanning the empty hallway. The lighting was bright for most of it, but darker in some areas, and numerous doors leading to other sections of the district lined the hallway. The same dirty, grimy walls remained, holographic imprints of the Cerberus logo all that had changed from its usual bleak appearance. Despite having the station for more than six months at this point, most of the design had barely changed from when Marcus last saw it.

_Petrovsky put more effort into upgrading the defenses than actually altering Omega's appearance. That, and sticking the damn Cerberus logo wherever he can. A typical reminder that Omega is now under Cerberus control._

_Well, not for much longer._

"Clear," Keeling announced. Marcus nodded and they moved ahead and through the doorway, with the N7 not far behind, giving one final check of the hallway before passing through. He sniffed, finding the same dank, musty smell. It was a disgusting scent, one that reminded him of the slums of the Texan Megapolis back on Earth. It reminded him just how eerily similar Omega was to the worst parts of human cities: a haven for the criminally applied and the financially starved. A perfect place for self-proclaimed rulers to set themselves up in, and a place so unchangable that even a technologically advanced occupier couldn't be bothered to shape it to how they want it other than throwing their symbol wherever they could.

_A shithole, pure and simple. Nobody wants to live on Omega: the only people who do live here are those too desperate for a home to compromise. The Citadel for the poor. Doomed to a history of violence and dispair, unable and unwilling to cultivate anything substantial or produce anything significant. Why Aria cares so much about this station is beyond my ability to understand._

As they entered the next room, they could hear voices: the familiar electronic voices of Cerberus soldiers. One of them was strained: it sounded strangled. He concluded they were the soldiers who survived the battle in the hangar bay, and motioned Garrus and Keeling to stop. Once they had, he had his turian comrade approach from the right, Keeling from the left. Marcus moved with Keeling, approaching the left doorway while Garrus approached the right one.

They soon found their enemy: the injured trooper, shot several times through the chest and still leaking blood, sat up against a wall, cradling his wounds while arguing with the trooper beside him. The other five stood in a ring, watching their sectors, preparing for Marcus and his team to inevitably arrive. One of the troopers spotted them and, without waiting, raised his rifle to fire. He was shot through the side of the head by Garrus, and the room erupted into gunfire for a brief moment. The other four were gunned down before they could retaliate, while the trooper attending his comrade was shot through the head by Marcus.

The injured trooper reached for a weapon, but Garrus nailed him in the right eye socket, blowing his brains out across the wall behind him, silencing his strained moaning immediately. Knowing the enemy had likely heard the gunfire, Marcus dashed across the room, tapping the haptic interface and opening the door.

The courtyard lay directly infront of him. It was a large chamber, easily one hundred meters in length, and seventy in width. Some sort of reception area was located to the far right, sheltered behind panes of bulletproof glass and plain steel walls. Two doors rested at each wing of the back area. The orangey-brown floor had been somewhat cleaned up, with some of the smell dissipating slightly within the courtyard in contrast to the rest of the hallway. A large "welcome" sign sat in the middle of the great courtyard, while four massive observation windows made up the walls on the far left, allowing a clear view of the space outside Omega. None of the fleet could be seen, and the particle cannons had ceased firing, resting in their cradles, spinning aimlessly as they looked for a target but failed to locate one.

The lighting was bright: not quite glaring, but enough to be annoying. It reflected off the visor of his helmet, making it hard to see: but just as he tinted it...

His kinetic barriers burst to life as it was pelted numerous times from enemy weapons fire. Growling, he quickly strafed back into cover, hearing more bullets ping off the wall behind him uselessly as the Cerberus soldiers in the room continued to fire for several seconds before ceasing.

"How many are in there?" Keeling asked, fingering the barrel of her rifle.

"Thirty plus foot mobiles is about as much as I could count," Marcus stated, "More than we can take on. They've got two dozen assault troopers in cover, probably got a centurion or two among them. No doubt they'll have a Nemesis lurking about, and probably some dragoons or phantoms."

"Well, we do need to get through that courtyard," Garrus pointed out, sighing heavily as if he had enough of their current situation, "It's that or take the long way around. And we don't exactly have that liberty."

"Thank you, Vakarian," Marcus snapped snarkily, wincing as a bullet bounced off the wall a little close to his face, gritting his teeth angrily, "Do you have any smoke grenades?"

"I do," Keeling declared, "Got about five of them. Want me to spread out a smoke screen?"

"Not yet. We need reinforcements," Marcus hit the comms, finger tapping the side of his helmet as he heard the sounds of dozens of Cerberus troopers communicating with each other in an almost unintelligible ruckus of shouting and grunts, "Liara, this is Shepard. We've run into more enemy troops. Thirty or so. I'm going to need you, Jack, her students, Aria, Kaidan and James down here now."

"Understood, Marcus. On our way." Was the asari's response before the comms went silent again.

A few seconds later, they moved around the corner, their respective weapons raised, Aria in the lead as always. A torrent of machine gun fire harassed them as the Cerberus platoon likely saw them coming through the doorway. And given by how loud the weapon fired was, and the lack of fellow staccato beats to accompany it, likely meant that the platoon had also set up a machine gun emplacement to keep them pinned.

_Just great. Like we need anything else to slow us down any further. Better fix this clusterfuck._

Liara quickly formed a biotic barrier around the doorway, reflecting any further gunfire: the rest of their rounds were absorbed by the shield, blue energy greedily consuming the shards of metal as they came. Liara held the barrier as Jack and her students arrived in the room, Kaidan and James taking position beside Liara, James on the left and Kaidan on the right, one on each of her flanks. Aria dove into cover beside Marcus, growling angrily as she gripped her shotgun more tightly.

"We need to get moving, Shepard. Petrovsky will have found out we're here by now! He could be sending an entire battalion to stop us!" Aria complained, a noticable blue aura beginning to form around her as her biotics charged up.

"Aria, have a little faith," he joked, turning to Keeling, "Deploy a smoke screen on my mark. That'll cover Kaidan, James, Garrus, me and you as we move in. Kaidan, James, Liara, you're with me: we'll take the right. Garrus, take Keeling and Aria and flank left. Here's the objective: my team will flank around and attempt to reach that reception area I saw before: with luck, we'll take it and outflank them. Keeling, Garrus...your job is to outflank that machine gun emplacement and eliminate it. Once that's done, we'll give Jack and her students the go ahead to move in. There's an entire platoon in there, so keep it simple: you find a target in your crosshairs, pull the trigger. You get injured, shake it off until we've taken those generators out," Marcus quickly secured his rifle in his hands, taking a deep breath as he nodded to Keeling, "Fresh clips in your weapons people, it's show time."

Keeling took that for what it was. Reaching up to the top of her bandolier, she quickly popped a smoke grenade free of the harness and swapped places with Marcus. Priming it, she tossed it through the open doorway, where Marcus imagined it flying through the air, a whirlwind of dense smoke erupting from its tailend, before it came to land on the ground, a cloud of thick vapour permeating the air, obscuring the enemy's vision.

Without hesitation, he switched to thermals, the rest of the squad following suit, "Go! Go!"

He was the first through, James and Kaidan hot on his tail. He raised his pulse rifle, thermals finding its first heat signature through the dense smoke. Two more outlines stood beside him, their own weapons raised and ready to fire into the cloud in the hopes of hitting something. He didn't hesitate: he tapped the trigger twice, watching the superheated plasma slugs burst into the trooper's helmet. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground dead. His two comrades, unnerved by his death, opened fire, and Marcus' barriers once again lit up as they ate up the bullets meant for him.

He strafed right as planned, Kaidan's M-9 Usurper and James' M-76 Revenant joining the fight with a constant stream of high-velocity rounds littering the field. The two soldiers fell immediately, torn to pieces by the combined fire. Marcus continued to find targets fire, only ducking when the machine gun emplacement opened fire again, a roar punctuated by a tempest of metal death given away its reemergence. He managed to find a pair of crates which he dove behind, knowing their metal exterior would serve as temporary armor against the bullets. Kaidan, James and Liara joined him, the former activating his tech armor to give him added protection. Orange light erupted around him, holographic energy encasing him in a shell of temporary invulnerability. Kaidan poked out from cover to fire once more, accompanied by James shortly after, who went prone, face pressed against the stock of his light machine gun. Liara meanwhile sent a flurry of biotic warps directly into the front line of Cerberus soldiers, keeping them busy while the rest of the enemy platoon attempted to push the attackers further back.

Marcus looked up to see Keeling, Garrus and Aria to not be as badly struggling as they were, the three of them advancing fairly easily without the horde of fire to confront with. It looked like the smoke screen had worked, despite the Cerberus troopers possessing the thermal vision to see right through it. The trio advanced through their cover, keeping a low profile and relatively hidden from the Cerberus forces ahead of them. Aria was in the lead, the asari looking like she was about to burst with annoyance at not being able to fight the enemy head on. Marcus was just glad she was sticking to the plan.

_She really meant it when she said I had operational command. As long as she doesn't try to undermine me, we can win this._

_First thing's first though...take this fucking courtyard._

"Shit!" James cried out. Marcus snapped to look at the marine, finding that his shields had burst and a bullet had lodged itself within his heavy armor. In response, James turned to the soldier responsible and unloaded the rest of the clip into him, the retaliatory burst shredding armor and flesh, leaving nothing but a bloodied mess that slightly resembles a former living creature. James then rolled back into cover, sighing happily as he realized the round hadn't penetrated, "Ah...had me good for a second there. Too close to my heart...literally."

"Don't leave your ass hanging out then," Kaidan replied snarkily, grabbing a grenade from his side and tossing it at the enemy. Moving back into cover, a loud bang rang in their eardrums, a large cloud of dust being kicked up into the air from the blast. From what Marcus saw, the blast didn't harm anyone, but it had caused a hole in the platoon's center to open up.

Meaning an opening in the enemy's fire.

"Move!" Marcus barked, standing up and placing his pulse rifle ontop of the crate, using it as a platform to hold his rifle while he fired it full pelt into the enemy, keeping them from reforming, "Get to the reception area! I'll provide suppressing fire! Aria, a little help!"

"Sure thing, asshole!" Aria snarled. All Marcus saw was the asari suddenly appearing from behind cover before disappearing in an explosion of blue light. Just as suddenly as she evaporated, she reappeared behind the enemy machine gunner, who was now turning to face Marcus. Aria grabbed the assault trooper behind and ruthlessly snapped his neck before taking aim with her shotgun and blasting the machine gunner in the back of the head. His skull blew apart in a frenzy of blood and gore, his brains painted among the crates infront of him. Aria quickly kicked the dead trooper off the gun he had slumped again, not caring that his brains were running down the sides of the heavy weapon as she simply grabbed it, took aim and began to fire into the backs of several Cerberus soldiers.

"Is that the thanks I get?" Marcus asked with a grin, slapping a fresh clip into his now depleted rifle as he rushed to join the rest of his team, who were now in the reception area raining down fire on their outflanked foe.

"Where's my thanks?" Aria replied, likely wearing her own grin, "I just took care of this asshole behind the gun and now I'm using it to do some house cleaning. You missed out on marrying me, cunt. I'd have made a great and terrible housewife."

He shook his head, shrugging off a few stray bullets in the back of his shield as he landed beside Aria, summoning his own biotics to lay down a series of shockwaves. Returning to cover, he took aim with his rifle once more, taking out those fortunate to survive his and Liara's combined biotic onslaught, "You're not my type, Aria. But I think you know that."

"You're not mine, either," the Queen of Omega replied, fresh from wiping out Cerberus' left flank and now turning her attention to the suddenly retreating Cerberus platoon. Garrus and Keeling joined her, clearly not approving of her hasty rush into the combat zone but keeping it to themselves as they helped the others mop up the enemy, "You're too...perfect. Mr. Fucking Good Guy. Your type are insufferable."

"Tolerable enough to help you, though?"

"Tolerable enough, indeed. But only that. We're not friends, Shepard."

"Oh, you wound me. And here I was thinking we were on our way to something beautiful."

"Get me back my station and maybe, just maybe, I'll give you a kiss on the cheek. Will that shut you the fuck up?"

"Tempting, truly, but I'll pass."

"See? Captain fucking Perfect."

"With a capital P, Aria. And...well, I guess I'm literally a captain."

"Still just a boy scout."

"Don't recall letting you in on this conversation, Jack."

"You're on an open comm, jackass. General Asshole up-on-high can probably hear every word."

"Well, isn't that just unfortunate. Petrovsky heard Aria proclaiming that she'd be a great housewife. He'll be thrilled!"

"Fuck you, Shepard."

"No thanks, Aria. Married."

"Well, I know who I'm about to fuck up. Calvary incoming bitches!"

What had been a centurion and four guardians lined in formation and slowly retreating was quickly eaten up by a giant, dark energy explosion as Jack led her students into a biotic swoop towards the enemy platoon. Serving their purpose, Jack and her students successfully forced the rest of the enemy platoon to stand up and make for the doorway at the back, only for the two teams on the flank to pour fire directly into them. They were all cut down in an instant, ending the brief battle. Thirty men...cut down and wiped out within minutes.

He lowered his rifle, exhaling deeply as he assessed the new situation. Corpses lay strewn across the courtyard, all of them wearing white and gold. No doubt their actions were being noticed by Petrovsky, and Marcus had even less doubt that the general would simply sit there: by now, he would know where they were headed and what for. No doubt reinforcements were on their way...possibly an entire battalion, like Aria said.

They reunited in the middle of the courtyard, Marcus bringing up the comms once more, "Squad, advance to the courtyard, enemy force has been neutralized. We'll proceed to the gunnery control center, but we've got to do so at a hurried pace. Petrovsky has likely already been alerted to our presence."

"Understood, Captain," Javik replied as stoically as he always did when in battle.

It didn't take long for the others to arrive, setting up a semi circle infront and behind them, watching out for hostile forces. Those who had fought reloaded their weapons, grabbing ammo from the bodies of the fallen Cerberus soldiers to use for themselves. They didn't bother checking their omni-tools for information: Cerberus was too smart for that. They likely had fail-safes linked up to their heart monitors set up to purge the omni-tool of data in the event of the soldier's death. Not to mention such troopers wouldn't be entrusted with anything significant anyway.

"Shepard-Captain," Moses suddenly spoke up, Marcus turning to look up at the prime, "I have successfully hacked the local surveillance system that Cerberus has installed. I have gained access to all cameras along our designated path. Cerberus forces are minimal between here and the generators, and I believe a hasty advance would allow us to avoid the bulk of Cerberus reinforcements where sent. Cerberus themselves are not yet aware of my hack, but soon will be."

"You're pretty useful for a geth," Aria complimented Moses in her own special way, the asari wracking the slot back on her shotgun as it refitted with the internal sink. She turned to Marcus, shrugging with a sort of exasperation, "Well? What are we waiting for? Time's not our friend here."

Her only response was a nod as Marcus signalled for Garrus, EDI, Javik, Keeling and Kaidan to form around him, with Tali, Liara, Kasumi, James and Moses remaining behind them as support, and Jack and her students just behind them. Jack had barely said a word so far, which was different for the former convict, although he had no doubt she was relishing in ripping apart the Cerberus troops, getting some much needed metaphorical revenge...even if it wasn't the Illusive Man himself as she probably wanted.

He motioned Aria to move ahead and lead them, while the rest of them followed quickly behind. Their weapons were raised at all times, aimed directly ahead as Aria tapped the interface for the door infront of them, the two sheets of bland, brownish metal sliding apart with a groan to reveal another hallway, this one ending with the flight of stairs Aria had talked about, all of them leading up, with another pair next to it leading down. Another door led to the right, while another led to the left: the left was another corridor leading off elsewhere into the district, while the right was an elevator: one too small for everyone to fit inside.

As the group moved to follow Aria up the stairs, they stopped suddenly as a voice began to loudly filter into the room. All weapons instantly snapped to the source of the sound, only to lose tension as they realized what it was.

A vidscreen, a large one at that, made up a large portion of the upper wall. Playing on it was somekind of propaganda reel, with a smiling human female with immaculate blonde hair and mesmorizing blue eyes relaying information to the population while the Cerberus logo spun in the top left.

"This is your local Cerberus news. General Petrovsky reminds all non-military personnel that the mandatory curfew between 5pm to 7am is still in effect. Those caught violating the curfew will be charged with criminal misconduct. Those found impersonating Cerberus personnel or found to be colloborating with enemies of Cerberus will also be charged with treason and dealt with accordingly. General Petrovsky only wants the best for the people of Omega. A peaceful Omega is a secure Omega. Peace equals security. Stand aside and allow our men and women to do their job," Marcus turned to see Aria was paying careful attention, the asari's face creased in a sneer at the overly happy Cerberus news reporter. Looking down at her datapad, the woman spoke again, this time clearing her throat before starting, "Now for today's news. General Petrovsky, the gracious and kind man that he is, has opened up food stalls in the Ceshmire District. Those who are in desperate need of provisions are welcome to take what they need. Do not be greedy and do not steal from others: those found guilty of doing so will be incarcerated. Do not take the General's generosity for granted. Do not take advantage of him. He does this for the people of Omega, not for you. Know the difference and you will be well fed."

_Food stalls? Either the man is using this as a tactic to win over the people, or he genuinely cares. Something the Illusive Man lacks._

"In other news, the war for Omega carries on. Our soldiers fight valiantly to crush the rebels and bring order and peace to our station," the woman reported, catching the attention of everyone in the group, including Aria, who's sneer vanished to be replaced with a frown of confusion, "These terrorists are enemies of the people and threaten the integrity of Omega itself. Cerberus fights to stop the Reaper threat, but we cannot do that if we are wasting time fighting petty rebellion and terrorism. They are not your friends. They do not care about you. They care only for themselves and will only bring ruin to you and your family. Please...if you know anyone who may be associated with these terrorists, do not hesitate to contact us. If you are listening, and you yourself are a terrorist, General Petrovsky is ever so lenient. He will offer clemency to any rebel who surrenders peacefully. Do so for your own good: you are only prolonging a pointless conflict. The Reapers are the real enemy. Let us end this war so we may focus on the war that matters. Thank you for listening, and remember: we are the unwanted ally, the necessary mediator."

Just like that, the woman disappeared as the Cerberus logo spinning at the top was enlarged and slid down to cover the entire screen. The words "Cerberus News Network" appeared at the bottom in giant orange lettering, with somekind of electronic music playing momentarily over it.

"Well..." James began, the first to speak after seeing what the group saw, "...that's interesting."

"You never told me about a resistance, Aria," Marcus turned to the asari, not angry but befuddled, "I mean...I should have known there would be one, but not something of this scale. Cerberus wouldn't pump out propaganda like this if it were just a small insurrection. There is clearly a very well organized rebellion going on here."

"You're not alone, Shepard," Aria turned to him, waving her arms uselessly in irritation, "When I left, the station was his. No information comes out of this place unless it's Cerberus: you know that. How the fuck was I supposed to know there was a rebellion going on here? Besides, now that we know there is one, we can use it to our advantage."

"Indeed," Liara added, gaining Marcus' attention, "An attack from without is more effective when complimented by an attack within. Before, the resistance was all Cerberus had to deal with. Now they've got an invasion force to worry about too."

"Can we talk about the rebels latter, sir?" Keeling spoke up, gripping her rifle, "As interesting as this development may be, we've still got Cerberus troops hot on our asses. They could arrive here any second or cut us off."

"Soldier of the Century is right, Shepard," Aria spat, turning back to the stairs as she moved towards them again, "Those cannons need to go bye bye or that rebellion will be  _all_  we have."

There was no more time wasted. The entire group rushed up the stairs, running past a holographic Cerberus propaganda poster on the wall of the first floor of stairs. It depicted a Cerberus assault trooper holding his rifle upright, the stock on the ground, while he held a miniture version of Omega in his hand, looking calm and collected. Beside him was a turian in black armor in the same posture, but with their mandibles open in a frozen warcry and their talons closed shut, blue blood running through their fingers from the equally miniture version of Omega in their own palm, this one crushed and destroyed. The two soldiers looked at each other, giving each other stares of death. And, below it in the same orange writing Cerberus always seem to use, read 'Who should really hold Omega?'

A simple sentence. But one that probably made the difference.

The squad had to advance up two decks before they finally reached the tram station. Aria was first up, scanning the area. She immediately stopped and crouched, holding out a hand to motion for them to stop. Backing up until she was hidden by the stairs, she turned to Marcus, who patiently waited for her to give her assessment, "Tram station is dead ahead. Tram is on the left side, but there's a Cerberus squad already there. Tram looks like it just arrived, so they probably got off it. They've got a combat engineer setting up a sentry turret, and I saw at least three nemesi setting up by the pillars on the right. The rest are assault troopers taking up somekind of arrowhead formation. They're waiting for us."

"She's correct, sir," Keeling announced, lowering the scope from her rifle as she finished taking a look for herself, "Eight enemy troopers, three nemesi, one combat engineer and a centurion. Arrowhead formation. Looks like they're trying to set up a chokepoint. Likely aware of our objective."

"Of course I'm right. I wouldn't fucking lie," Aria spat, glaring at Keeling before turning back to Marcus.

"Well, we try to approach them from here and they'll tear into us," Kaidan stated, leaning up against the wall, rifle held tightly against his chest, "I recommend Jack and her students set up a barrier. Then we can spread out."

"No need," Marcus stated, the N7 grinning as he turned to their new gargantuan geth friend, "Moses, you're up. Focus on that turret and flush out those nemesi. Garrus, take out those nemesi as they come out of cover. Everyone else, advance behind Moses and focus your fire on the main enemy formation. Aria, you will open up our charge with a flare. Watch your fire and make sure you don't damage the tram: we need it. Tali, once you're on the tram, you're on hacking duty. I want full control over that tram."

"Got it," was the roll of affirmatives he got.

Cerberus no doubt heard Moses coming before they saw him. The tower of a geth's footsteps were constant, rthymic thuds that marked its approach. Eventually, the prime appeared in its totality, assault rifle fire pouring into it shortly after. Secretly behind it, Tali used her energy drain in reverse, draining her own kinetic barriers to constantly cycle Moses', temporarily making him nearly invulnerable. Without waiting, Moses deployed his  _Stalker_ -class combat drone before bringing up his pulse cannon and opening fire on the sentry gun, who's screaming and muzzle fire could be heard and seen respectively. The bang, bang, bang of its pulse cannon drowned out the sounds of the soldiers shouting, the blue flashes punctuated by one great orange explosion, signifying the turret's destruction.

With the turret gone, Marcus ordered his squad forward, using Moses' large form as a sort of shield. Nodding to Aria, he watched the former Queen of Omega bask in a brilliant blue glow before seemingly thrusting her arm into the air, blue energy seemingly flying off her arm as it smashed into the center of the Cerberus line, a massive purple explosion enveloping five troopers and the centurion, the six of them disappearing as they were instantly vaporized. One surviving trooper was thrown into a wall, having survived the explosion but losing half his arm in the process, blood spurting from where his arm had been dissected at the elbow. Marcus shot the trooper in the head, killing him instantly.

Aria dashed over the squad's cover, tackling the second survivor to the ground, dropping her shotgun in the process as she screamed in anger. Javik shot the last trooper in the head with his rifle, his entire helmet blasted away from the particle blast. Aria, legs on either side of the trooper and sitting on top of his waist, smashed her twin biotic fists into his head over and over, denting the helmet until it was nothing but twisted metal, likely mangling the soldier's face beneath even worse. By the end, Aria let out a final scream before punching her hand clean through the side of his head, pulling it back with brains and blood dripping from her fist. Exhaling deeply, she stood up as she wiped the blood on the side of her pants, leaning down temporarily to pick up her Wraith shotgun. Looking up, she saw nothing but Marcus looking at her.

"What?" she asked, looking annoyed.

"Feel better now?" he asked, grinning.

She hesitated for a moment before letting out, to his surprise, a genuine chuckle, "Yes, much better. Going to take considerably more kills to make me cheery, though."

Marcus turned to move to the tram but stopped, still smiling, "Oh, by the way...you've got blood on your cheeks." He then walked towards the tram, imagining Aria trying to wipe it away, only to make it worse.

The engagement was over in fifteen seconds. Garrus picked up off the nemesi with unflinching lethality, a single hole blown through each of their foreheads, blood pooling around their dead corpses. Most of the enemy squad had been wiped out in the explosion, and Marcus turned to find the combat engineer's body sitting down, lying against a wall with nothing but a lower jaw and a neck stump for a head: having seen the blood dripping from one of Moses' huge hands, Marcus already knew what happened.

Moving to the tram, Marcus saw that Tali was already at the control panel, her omni-tool out and fingers dancing over the holographic keypad as she worked to break Cerberus' control. Marcus motioned everyone else to loot the corpses and move onto the elevator. The last person onboard was Jack, who Marcus had watched roll over a dead trooper to remove his grenades and ammo, tossing them to James.

"Well thanks for that, Diablo," James offered, slotting the thermal clips and extra grenades into the necessary slots on his bandolier and belt. Jack stood beside him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"'Diablo?'" she asked.

"He has a thing for nicknames, Jack," Marcus explained, standing beside Tali silently as she worked, rolling his neck and hearing numerous cracks as muscles loosened, "Just go with it."

"It's Spanish for 'devil'. You're covered in tattooes, your hella angry all the time and you're a damn psycho. I give new names to those who I think don't think suit their names."

"Mine's Loco," Marcus stated, then motioning to Tali, "She's Sparks."

"Scars. About the only thing this ape got right," Garrus remarked.

"Lola. Not sure why," Keeling added stoically.

"Sneaky," Kasumi stated. She sighed, "Not very original."

"What about Prothy the prothean over there?" Jack pointed to the prothean, who stood at the head of the tram, ignoring the rest of them as he looked down the long, dim tramway, "What's his nickname?"

James just shrugged, "He doesn't have one. He's just an asshole."

"Well miss, at least Diablo makes sense," Prangley joked, high-fiving Rodrigez with a laugh, "She really is psychotic."

"The psychotic biotic, remember?" Jack shot back, arms crossed and with a smirk, "But don't worry, Prangley. You can have your juice box soon."

"Done," their quarian engineer interrupted, putting away her omni-tool and picking up her shotgun from where she had leaned it against the control panel. Her line was punctuated further as the tram shuddered, moving slightly forward before beginning to speed up, moving at a reasonable pace along the dimly-lit tramway as it moved towards the gunnery control center.

"Excellent work, Tali," he patted her on the shoulder before moving over to Moses, "What's the strength of the Cerberus forces in the control center, Moses? Do they have a heavy presence?"

A few seconds later and Moses responded, "Cerberus has a company of troops currently setting up defenses for our arrival within the control center. I count at least one hundred troops, with forty-seven assault troopers, six centurions, twenty guardians, five combat engineers, ten dragoons, seven nemesi and five phantoms. They have good cover and are established in such a fashion as to be able to ambush us as soon as we enter through the main entrance. Doing so would be suicide."

"We've done suicide before," Jack quipped, "Bring the fuckers on."

"The difference is that the Collectors were dumb as shit, Jack. Cerberus has Petrovsky," Marcus pointed out, shaking his head, "The General knew exactly what we were going to try and do. And the fact that Cerberus hasn't taken control of the surveillance again already means that they have the ability to do so, but Petrovsky doesn't want them to. He wants us to see. He wants us to see that he has us. That we won't be able to reach our goal. He's giving us a fair warning."

"Oh, how nice of him," Aria replied sarcastically, "He's giving us a nice little warning before he has his troops chase us off his station."

"I never said we were giving in, Aria," Marcus shot back, sighing, "We're just going to have to reassess what we do next. We can't go charging in: they'll be waiting for us and they'll chew us up. We won't be able to try what we did in the courtyard again, and no matter how strong Moses is, he can't stand up to that amount of firepower at once." He thought about it for a moment, running through his options.

_Charge through, we die. Reuse previous tactics, they adapt and counter. Either way, we die. There has to be another way..._

Then it came to him.

He turned to Moses once more, "Reaccess the cameras again. Can you see the generators?"

A few moments, followed by a response, "Yes. I count eight large, high-powered particle accelerator generators to the far left of the control center. In setting up their trap, the Cerberus company has established themselves on the right of the control center, meaning they have left the generators vulnerable and unprotected."

"Why?" Aria laughed incredulously, "Is Petrovsky stupid? He's leaving the key to his defense wide open for us to take out! If we had rocket launchers, he'd be fucked!"

"There's no viable defensive positions to establish," Moses countered, "They cannot be entrenched. The only cover available is the generators themselves, and attempting to set up the ambush there would endanger the generators even more. That, and the General likely knows we'll target the generators first, and is playing upon your desperation, Aria."

"Well he's a master fucking player, isn't he?" Aria spat, turning back to Marcus with gritted teeth, "I need a solution, Shepard! We are not going back!"

From where he was, he could see they were not far away from the gunnery control center now. He could see the entrance: a small door, with a large section of wall to the right, all of it heavily reinforced concrete built during the by Krogan Rebellions. Faded lettering at the top was written in kresh, the krogan language, which roughly translated into "Central Gunnery Operations": a relic of the former krogan presence that successive rulers had failed to erase. Below it was newer, holographic letter stating "GUNNERY CONTROL CENTER" in English, obviously added by Cerberus.

"I have a plan," he pointed to the gunnery control center, holstering his rifle, "We'll have to go through that entrance, but if we divert the company's attention, we can buy ourselves enough time to place the charges and get the hell out of dodge," he tapped the side of Moses' leg, getting the geth's attention, "I'll place a small team with Moses. Your job will be to demo the right side of the wall and make yourselves an entrance: you guys will make yourselves a way into their left flank. With luck, they'll think we're entering from that area, and will focus all their attention there. That'll give me, EDI, James and Garrus enough times to get to the generators and set the charges. We'll blow those guns and signal the fleet. You'll have your invasion, Aria."

Not long after, the tram shuddered one final time as the support clutches latched onto the tram, keeping it in place. The squad poured off the tram, watching the door until Marcus and Tali were the last ones to leave the tram.

"Okay, everyone aside from those named are with Moses. If you've got explosives, use them to break through that wall: remember, it's reinforced concrete, so it'll need a lot of force to crack," he turned to EDI, Garrus and James and nodded, who raised their weapons and followed him towards the doorway. Arriving at it, they waited and watched as Moses and his team arrived at their designated section of wall.

A minute went by as Moses used his pulse cannon and the squad used their grenades and C7 charges to blow a hole through the wall. Eventually, an avalanche of concrete blew inwards as they finally breached it, showering whatever troopers were unfortunate enough to be behind it in shards of solidified cement. Moses led the charge, the rest of the squad following suit as they opened fire on the nearest Cerberus soldiers. With battle joined, Marcus quickly motioned for James, EDI and Garrus to follow him into the control center.

They spotted the generators almost immediately: eight, monolithic glowing turbines rested to the left, lined up in two columns of four generators each. They were white and gold, with a Cerberus logo painted on the front and glowing a brilliant blue, a loud, engine-like sound emitting from them as they thrummed. Luckily, they didn't look thickly armoured, meaning their C12 explosives should do the trick.

The four of them dashed up the steps onto the same level as the generators, and they immediately got to work. Gunfire echoed throughout the control center, muzzle flashes repeating  _ad nauseum_ at a consistent rate. The group set two C12 charges to each generator, one on each end, so that the full explosive force would be utilized: it was also possible that the sheer proximity of the generators to each other would also create a domino effect, but they could never be too sure. Once the final charge was set, Marcus gave the thumbs up for them to retreat, with James tossing him the detonator before retreating. He hit the comms to the rest of the group, giving them the all clear to retreat.

Moments later, and the group, whilst under heavy enemy fire, retreated to the tram, with at least forty or so troops pouring through the hole in the wall in pursuit of them. A few chips of Moses' armor had been blown off by penetrating bullets, while a few others, such as Javik and Kaidan, had a few grazes and wounds, but nothing deadly.

They fought the Cerberus troops off long enough for the tram to begin departing back towards the tram station, the enemy soldiers continuing to fire as the tram left.

Marcus turned to Aria, noticing the asari looking at him expectingly. He held up the detonator, and nodded.

She smiled...and nodded.

This thumb pressed the detonator, and a few moments passed. Just when it deemed the detonator's signal hadn't reached the charges, a thunderous boom echoed though the tramway, followed by several more. Tremors rocked the entire area as a tempest of flame boomed through the doorway, but didn't get any further. The explosions eventually finished, signalling the destruction of the generators.

...and by extension, the particle cannons and Omega's only remaining defense against the UGC fleet aside from the already ravaged Cerberus ships.

Aria began to scream obscenities into the air, all of them directed at Petrovsky, as Marcus contacted the fleet and notified Gerrel and Hadrian that they could renew their attack and deploy the rest of the OLF ground forces. With that said and done, Marcus sat down, rifle in his lap, allowing himself a brief rest during their new ongoing war.

They had one their first great victory, but not the war. But now they had set the ball rolling...and it was time for the war to begin in totality.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1603 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_General Oleg Petrovsky._

A few taps on the console, followed by an audio measurement screen appearing above his communications terminal. He stood beside it, hands clasped behind his back, nose twitching as his beard began to itch. He ignored the ruckus of the room, focusing entirely on this one communication, a sense of pride in his mind as he prepared to once again address the one man he respected above all else.

The call was accepted, and Petrovsky spoke, "You must be tired, captain. You've been very busy."

His response was quick, the man never losing a single prompt, "Sure have. I'm guessing you know by now that your generators are gone? Your cannons will soon be disabled and my fleet is going to mop up the rest of yours."

Petrovsky scoffed, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "I watched the entire battle, captain. You've won yourself a victory, but the war is not over. Surely you know this war will be decided on the ground alone."

"I'm aware," the soldier replied, laughing, "As is your biggest fan. You're a good man, Petrovsky, fighting on the wrong side, but I won't keep barking up your tree. We've made our decisions and now we must live with them. Whatever it is you've set up here...I'm here to end it."

"Then it is my duty to stop you. You see captain, you represent chaos," Petrovsky stated, hands unclasping as he braced them against the desk, leaning over his terminal, "It is my duty to stomp out that chaos. Omega is a very delicate place, and one the Illusive Man has entrusted me to keep intact. We both fight the Reapers, captain, we just differ in your methods. We are damned to our own differences."

"No, Petrovsky, your damned to the Illusive Man's arrogance," was his simple reply, "But so be it. Gear up, get entrenched and heat up the hot chocolate, General. We're coming."

The comms then went silent, his terminal reporting the comms had been cut off.

He smiled.  _So you are, Shepard. And like I said, it is my duty to stop you._

Switching off his terminal, he stood up straight and turned to the QEC, tapping several commands into the panel as he sent a transmission request to the  _Deliverance._ It was time to contact Banes and get this ship ready for possible combat.

_If we can neutralize the Normandy, then perhaps we can cripple Shepard's morale and resolve._

Several moments passed by as the QEC quietly waited to set up a link with its twin on the  _Deliverance_ , the only movement a slight purple ping on the terminal to demonstrate that a connection was pending. After close to a minute, the link was finally established, and Banes' form quickly came to fruition. He was in his white Cerberus uniform, hair neatly combed and face devoid of facial hair as it always seemed to be. His eyes immediately landed on Petrovsky, who he quickly nodded to, standing straighter, hands at his sides, "General Petrovsky. You wished to speak with me?"

The General nodded, noticing Banes' slightly retired look.  _Must have recently woken up. How unfortunate for him._ "Yes. You've no doubt heard of the UGC's recent assault on this station."

Banes nodded, scoffing, "I was notified by Vice Admiral Bonaparte, yes. He said they had suffered some setbacks, but that our cannons were doing a fine job of pushing the enemy back. In his words, they are running with their tails between their legs. He ordered me to have the  _Deliverance_ on standby and ready to hunt down any survivors should the UGC attempt a second attack. So far, nothing. I can only assume we've won, yes?"

Petrovsky's face was grim, and he knew it as Banes' smug look seemed to die down a little, "Not quite, captain. A small UGC ground force was able to penetrate our defenses and land. They reached the gunnery control center and disabled the guns. The UGC fleet will soon be upon us."

That seemed to anger Banes as the captain leaned against, what looked to be nothing, but was most likely his own QEC terminal, "What? How the hell did that happen? Why didn't we box them in? If it's in the Zeta District, we could have disabled the tram! How large was the enemy force?"

"Do you take me for a fool, captain?" was the General's response, not entirely unsurprised by the captain's respnse, "And they were platoon size, at best."

"We could have sent at least a few squads! Maybe a company!" Banes exclaimed.

"Do not lecture me on ground-based military tactics, Banes," Petrovsky firmly stated, making it clear he was not going to accept Banes' insubordinative behaviour, "I sent R Company to secure the control center and to establish a trap for our guests. I had several squads in the area delay them. Unfortunately, our visitor wasn't the typical sort."

"Who the fuck was it?" Banes almost demanded.

"Our friend Shepard." He watched the captain's face for facial cues. They were all there: surprise, followed by a brief glimpse of exasperation, concluding with a look of acceptance.

"I see. That explains our inability to stop him," Banes replied almost apologetically, standing up from his console and straightening up again, "I apologize for questioning you, General. It appears we've got quite the problem on our hands. I'm assuming he brought his squad with him?"

Petrovsky nodded, "Yes, along with a geth prime we haven't seen before, along with Subject Zero and those students we failed to capture on Grissom Academy. He quite cleverly figured out my trap and destroyed the generators. Without those guns captain, I'm afraid First Fleet will be obliterated within the next hour."

Banes frowned at him, shrugging as if the answer was obvious, "Then have it pull back. No use losing an entire fleet to a battle you know you've lost."

Petrovsky shook his head, "The UGC fleet has geth warships, captain. Knowing the geth, any retreating ships will be swiftly pursued and destroyed. The UGC is anything but lax when it comes to disposing our forces. And even if I did order our forces to retreat, they would have nowhere to go and the Illusive Man would most likely have them sent back: he expects everyone one of us to fight to the last man if it means any possibility of victory."

"Fuck, you're right," was the captain's answer. He licked his lips, turning back to Petrovsky with a shrug, "So what now? The  _Deliverance_ is a powerful ship, but we can't take on an entire fleet. With our fleet soon to be gone, you've probably already determined that this will be a ground war."

He nodded, stroking his beard once more in thought, other hand propping up his elbow, "You catch on quickly, captain. Although perhaps this is for the best: I never was a good admiral. I cannot attempt the same tactics I did with Aria: Shepard is far too...smart for that. Speaking of Aria...I believe this entire operation her orchestration. She is, after all, present on this station."

Banes shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself, "Unable to let go, is she? I thought you said she'd never return?"

It was Petrovsky's turn to smile, if only a little, "Oh no, you misunderstand. I knew Aria would someday return. But I believed her arrogant and foolish. She would rush in with a mercenary fleet: mine would cut through hers, and whatever ground forces she deployed would be quickly dispatched by our superior troops. She would make a rush for Afterlife, I would support and destroy her forces. I would then have her executed, mostly because I don't offer second chances. I offered mercy once, I wouldn't make the same mistake twice," he sighed, licking his own lips this time, "But to return with a proper fleet, and Shepard leading her troops...it appears I have made the mistake of underestimating her. She is, after all, far from idiotic."

"So what?" Banes asked again, "I need a directive, General. While this station still stands under a Cerberus banner, I cannot, and will not, order the  _Deliverance_ to retreat. I have agents Ezno and Leng ready to deploy if need be, as well as a contingent of our best elite soldiers. Leng has a squad of phantoms he's personally trained, and Randall has a few dragoons and assault troopers he trained himself. Just give the word. They're eager to put Shepard down like the treacherous scum he is."

_How crude. Throwing words like "traitor" around. Shepard is no more a traitor than Liara T'Soni. He cannot betray an organization he never swore allegiance to. But better not tell Banes that. If it makes him a more competent combatant, then best let him continue believing that._

He shook his head, "I do not require your men at this moment, captain, but do make sure to keep them on standby. What I  _do_ need...is you. The  _Deliverance._  I do not ask you to take on an entire fleet, but a single ship. Surely you know that wherever Shepard goes..."

Banes' lips slowly formed into a smile, "...the  _Normandy_ follows. You want me to destroy his ship?"

Petrovsky nodded, "Shepard is a soldier at heart, but the loss of his flagship would cripple his resolve. He is, ultimately, nothing without it. Destroy the  _Normandy_  Banes, and we might just secure victory. You have the ship, and the  _Deliverance_ is the only ship we have capable of engaging it in a fair fight. Do whatever you have to, but destroy that ship. Am I clear?"

Banes nodded, straightening up as he nodded, "I understand completely. Me and my crew have been eager for a rematch. No doubt EVA will also want vengeance for her predecessor...well, whatever you call payback for a shackled AI."

"Do  _not_ be over confident. Control your hubris, captain," Petrovsky cautioned, "Just because your ship is evenly matched in firepower, does not mean the  _Normandy_ has lost the advantage. Remember your last engagement and learn from it. Do not make the same mistake twice."

"I don't need a lecture in naval-based tactics, General," Banes echoed, hands clasped behind his back, "Whatever mistakes were made before, there will be no repetition. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ship to hunt down. Is there anything else?"

 _His overconfidence will one day get him killed._ "Nothing. Good hunting, captain." With that, Banes nodded and ended the call, holographic form exploding into rapidly dispersing particles before the QEC dimmed and went dormant once more. Petrovsky took a deep breath, turning back around and looking over New Order HQ. It was a bustle of activity, numerous officers and soldiers moving about as they prepared the station's forces for the inevitable deployment of UGC troops. It would be the first major war fought by them for months...but they had prepared for this eventuality. They were ready. They could do this.

He closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath before turning and walking to his holographic chessboard. Bending over it, he observed the board, eyes examining every detail. With a final exhale, he reached over to the other side, entering the necessary details. The queen, her passage clear, moved forward and neutralized his rook, the holographic depiction of the rook evaporating as it fell down. He nodded, standing, straightening out his uniform.

_And so it begins._

He turned back to his terminal, taking a seat as he began preparations for organizing Omega's defense.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1609 hours._

_Cerberus Military Barracks, Omega Apex, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Captain Armistan Banes._

The walk from the  _Deliverance_ and the docking bay to the barracks wasn't long, but it wasn't short. Given that the barracks was located where the VIP section of Afterlife and the entire shopping district of the Dyuko District used to be, and the  _Deliverance_ was docked at least a kilometer away from it, the distance took a long time to cross by walking.

Normally he would have contacted them via omni-tool, but when he did, neither of them responded. Trying twice more, he eventually gave up and decided to head for the barracks, where they said they would be. As he walked through, he noticed that the Cerberus presence in the Apex had increased significantly, with groups of five walking around on an almost constant basis. Sure, Apex had always been occupied by nothing but Cerberus troops (as Apex was essentially 'Cerberus Town'), but to this degree? The increase in presence was telling of how much of a threat the UGC posed to the station.

He didn't fail to notice a couple of RAMPART mechs among the patrolling squads, either. Petrovsky had largely assigned his 5,000 strong RAMPART force to law enforcement, allowing Cerberus troops to be allocated to quelling rebellion and dealing with the Talon insurrectionists. The mechs were LOKI mechs but with upgraded armor plating, VI processing and weaponry, making them an intimidating sight. They completely ignored Banes as he walked by, already set on a predetermined path of patrol. More than likely the population had been sufficiently quietened to allow for redistribution of RAMPART units to strategically important areas vital to the Cerberus occupation.

After walking around 500 meters, he finally passed by New Order Headquarters. Infront of the main entrance was a line of six guardians, and behind them, ten assault troopers. Security had been tightened since the increase in Talon attacks, only further cemented by Aria's return. He even saw two, inactive Atlases standing outside, cockpits open and ready for a pilot to take control of them. To his right, two modified Makos sat, their engines switched off but their turrets manned, turning them into stationary defense turrets. No matter what, New Order Headquarters was armed to the teeth, ready to repel any Talon or UGC assault.

There was a line of three kodiak shuttles parked to his immediate left, doors closed and pilots leaning against them, talking to each other: one of them was smoking, while the other two ate what looked to be slices of pie. Directly ahead, Cerberus workmen began to set up barricades, while others set up sandbags all along the entrance towards the barracks. Two had already been completed, a large Steelhead defense turret set up behind one, with several mortars lined up behind the other. The Steelhead turret was made up of two barrels, with the user protected by a large shield composed of the same materials used to make guardian shields. The user had to stand up to use it, but it fired .30 caliber high explosive rounds, capable of penetrating lightly armoured vehicles and decimating infantry with a semi-automatic fire rate. Two of these would be set up: one on the far left, the other on the far right, allowing for both turrets to catch an enemy in a crossfire. Lined between these were mortars, sentry guns and heavy machine gun nests. Overall, the combined fire would tear apart any enemy force, even krogan and geth.

_A veritable fortress._

He saw the Cerberus commander overseeing the operation: Colonel Ashe's replacement, Colonel Kirk Farland. Banes approached the man from behind, arriving beside him as the two looked over the construction. When Farland said nothing, simply appraising the man beside him before turning back, Banes crossed his arms and spoke, "Preparing for the final defense already? I thought we left that for when we were making a last stand."

Kirk shook his head, smiling, "Petrovsky's orders. I agree with them, actually. Hope for the best, plan for the worst. No doubt we will defeat the enemy before they even leave the Rubicon Quadrant, but we must be planned for the worst case scenario. This is, Shepard, after all. I think his service history has earned more than simple caution. Just looked how the Citadel operation turned out. Petrovsky refuses to make the same mistake."

Banes nodded, "That's actually a smart idea. I just think its a little pre-emptive to waste so many resources here when we should be strengthening the frontlines."

Kirk sighed, shaking his head, "We have a 40,000 strong army, Banes. What you see here is but a tiny fraction of what we have at our disposal. Besides, you might find the frontlines will get closer than you expect. Again, prepare for the worst. Frontlines are never static, remember that," with a sigh, he turned to Banes, eyebrow raised, "What brings you here, captain? I thought your place was in the fleet, not down with us meat grinders."

Banes nodded, turning and giving the Colonel a small salute, "It is, and I'm not here for an inspection. I was on my way to the barracks to meet Agents Ezno and Leng."

"Ah yes, the dynamic duo," Kirk sarcastically remarked, grinning from ear to ear, "Those two are about as different from another as one can get. One is rash, the other is cautious. The other is reckless and ruthless, the other is methodical and cold. Can't get much different."

"Yeah, well with Shepard leading this UGC assault, I suspect their skill sets will be required to put him down," Banes noted.

"Too true," Kirk complimented. Bane shot a quick glance to the chronometer on his omni-tool, coming to the conclusion he must hurry if he wants to get Leng and Randall on board in time for his attack.

"Well, I must take my leave. You're doing a good job, Colonel. Get at it." With that, he turned and walked away towards the barracks, Kirk supplying no response as he simply returned to overseeing the construction of his fortifications. Banes could see the barracks from where he was, so he began approaching it.

In the eight months since Petrovsky conquered Omega, many changes had been implemented to the overall order and infrastructure of the station. Due to the sheer size of the station itself and the many districts the General's army had to administrate, Petrovsky had chosen to establish quadrants: these quadrants, or 'sectors' as the colonels called them, took up four seperate areas of the station, allowing for the equal distribution of leadership and control. In the northeast, there was Rubicon, where the UGC forces had chosen to land. In the northwest, there was Hudson. In the southwest there was Rhine, and in the southeast there was Styx. Each of these four areas held the entirety of Omega's civilian population, and each held their own Cerberus outpost from which military operations could be conducted. Each quadrant had its own governor to rule over it, all four ultimately answering to Petrovsky: these governors were his colonels.

Kirk Farland was the governor of the heavily divided Styx Quadrant. Colonels Connor Amish, Mitchell Wchest and Heather Colwood were governors of the Rubicon, Hudson and Rhine quadrants respectively. The Hudson and Rhine quadrants were found to be the most peaceful and orderly, while the Rubicon quadrant was placed under a much stricter martial law due to the Talon rebellion, and the Styx quadrant, suspected to be the center of Talon operations, was the most heavily contested, with large pockets of the quadrant falling into disarray and chaos. However, Colonel Farland had recently proposed a solution: Operation: Darksword. Wtih Petrovsky's blessing, Farland, on August 2nd, began a search-and-destroy operation to locate and wipe out the Talon HQ. So far, it was going well and Farland was confident the Talons would be ended by August 7th.

Then the UGC happened.

These four quadrants all surrounded by the very core of Omega: a place Petrovsky dubbed the 'Apex'. Occupied entirely by Cerberus forces and off limits to civilian personnel not of Cerberus allegiance, Apex was the beating heart of the Cerberus rule on Omega, centered at New Order Headquarters, or what used to be Afterlife. And down below, in the now unoccupied mining sector...

...the Dark Zone.

Cerberus had managed to contain the adjutant menace to the lower levels of Omega, effectively sealing it off and abandoning the entire sector, siphoning power from it to power their Collector-based force fields. Petrovsky was looking for a permanent solution to the adjutant problem, but deemed venting the sector too risky, as Omega's systems were too old and ancient to mess around: instead, he dedicated most of his engineer units to building a neutron purge: a task that was projected to be completed in early February, 2187.

Unlike everything else regarding Petrovsky's plans, his recovery and maintenance program was...well above what anyone expected him to. The General had stated he wanted to do more than simply rule Omega...he wanted to fix it. So he directed a large chunk of their scientific wing to building proper sanitation, building hospitals, etc. He even had plans for proper education facilities to be established, a law enforcement agency, government...

He would turn Omega from the most lawless station in the galaxy into a place of order and safety. In a way, Banes respected that goal. He saw it as a waste of time in regards to the Cerberus war effort, but it was ultimately Petrovsky's decision what he did with the station and its population: he ruled it after all, not Banes.

_Just don't see much point if the Illusive Man is going to have him scuttle the station anyway once Titan is constructed. Or perhaps he doesn't know the Illusive Man as well as I do..._

He finally reached the barracks, tapping the door's interface to walk in. He navigated numerous corridors before he finally found what he was looking for: the training arena.

Moving inside, he found the chamber quite empty, with the majority of Cerberus forces on high alert and redeployed after Shepard's deactivation of Omega's external defense network. The only occupants of the otherwise large chamber was the familiar forms of Leng and Ezno, both of them free of their armor and currently...well, to put it accurately, beating the shit out of each other.

Or at least trying to, anyway.

Neither seemed to notice him for a moment as they continued sparring. Randall seemed to be gaining the upperhand, using his more deconstructive techniques to counter Leng's more offensive strategies. For each punch Leng swung, Randall was able to block it with lightning fast efficiency, making sure to get a few strikes in wherever he could. But Leng was slowly learning, quickly blocking a few of Randall's own strikes, as well as striking Randall with a few of his own. When it came to intelligence, Randall was a superior. But in combat, the two were evenly matched: Ezno was a former Alliance Corsair while Leng was a disgraced N7. Both were special forces operators of some description, both knew how to deconstruct a threat, and both were heavily augmented by cybernetics, increasing their strength, speed and durability, not to mention gifting them a slow, but helpful, rengenerative factor.

None spoke a word, simply continuing to exchange blows, before Banes finally cleared his throat loud enough to gain their attention. They immediately dropped their arms to turn to him, Randall immediately straightening up. It was indeed strange to see Leng outside of his usual black light armor, with the assassin wearing nothing but a singlet and a pair of sweat shorts. The singlet was soaked with sweat, while the assassin's muscular frame demonstrated that he was nothing short of an absolute tank of a man. Randall was no less imposing, wearing similar clothing to Leng.

Banes approached, hands clasped behind his back, stopping when he was infront of them, "I would like to know why neither of you responded to my calls. I've tried pinging you three times."

Randall nodded, motioning to a pair of omni-tools lying nearby, "Had them on silent, sir. Me and Leng had some differences to sort out and we did. No doubt you need us for something important, especially if you walked all the way down here just to speak with us, sir."

"Indeed. I need to kill something," Leng remarked, but no smile ever graced his lips, "We've been sitting around far too long. We should be looking for Shepard and killing the treacherous asshole."

Banes smiled, "Well, you might just get your wish. If you haven't heard already, the UGC has launched an invasion of the station. They deployed a small ground team to neutralize our cannons and they succeeded: pretty soon, it's going to be war across the Rubicon quadrant," he looked between both of them, his smile never deteriorating, "Take a wild guess as to who is leading that squad."

"Shepard is here, sir?" Randall asked. The question was more rhetorical than anything else. Randall was hardly the man to have something repeated to him.

"Yes. You two might have just found your redemption," Banes dictated, turning to Leng, pointing an accusing finger at him, "But we will do this  _my_ way. You will not go off half-cocked like last time. Randall may have failed on Rannoch, but he at least had a good plan, Leng."

Leng nodded, biting his tongue. This surprised Banes, expecting the assassin to lash out in objection. The only respons he offered was a simple grunt, "Fine. As long as we kill him. He's lived far too long as it is."

"What do you wish us to do, sir?" Randall asked, hands clasped behind his back and ever the professional.

Banes glanced between them once more and nodded again, "Petrovsky wants me to take the  _Deliverance_ and eliminate the  _Normandy_. We kill his crew, and that will get his attention. He'll be more vulnerable then...Shepard's not perfect, and people make mistakes when they're shaken. That'll be the perfect time to take him out. I want you two to stay here and await orders. I'm putting you under Petrovsky's command. No doubt he'll give you both a command. Everybody here is pitching in to stop these fuckers."

Leng said nothing while Randall nodded, "Understood, sir. We'll collect our gear and await further orders as instructed. Good hunting, sir."

"You too, Major," he sighed, rubbing his temples with a shake of his head, "You two will get your chance. Every moment Shepard is near, our window of opportunity opens up. Shepard will die. Leng, I fully expect you make the killing blow: you can keep his damn head as a trophy if you wish. But we must be patient. Good things come to those that wait."

"Understood," was Leng's cold, bitter response. He showed no other emotion other than that.

With a final sigh and a twist of his step, he began to walk out of the barracks, "Good. I will contact you when the  _Normandy_ is destroyed. They will not survive this time. And when they are dead, Shepard will crumble. Just you watch."

And off he went, back to the  _Deliverance_ , and onwards to victory. For that is all that possibly await them.

_I'm ending you here, Shepard. With one blow..._

_And so it began._

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1613 hours._

_77th Swanston Avenue, Rubicon Quadrant, Zeta District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Zeta District._

_General Nyreen Kandros._

It was times like this that Nyreen missed her cousin Tiran.  _He would have liked fighting for a common good. It's what he was good at. A pity he's gone...I would have been glad to serve beside him, fighting Cerberus. Spirits...he doesn't even know about the Reapers, Cerberus or anything that's going on here, does he? Perhaps it's better not knowing..._

Nyreen was alone, hood over her head as she kept to the shadows of the empty street. Cerberus' mandatory curfew would be in effect in just over forty minutes, and most of the population had retreated to their homes rather than risk defiance. Luckily, Nyreen preferred it: not only were civilians out of any potential crossfire, but the possibility of innocent people getting hurt was next to none. Just the way she liked it.

_No point to this resistance if we hurt those we're supposed to be liberating._

Lighting was still up, and there were more than likely several patrols up and about, patrolling the streets as 'night' crept up on the Omega population, or at least what humans considered to be night time. Her Locust SMG was holstered on her hip, the turian concentrating entirely on keeping herself scarce and beneath the notice of Cerberus: to them, she was just another civilian, especially with the shadows she was hiding under concealing her sidearm. She had chosen to go in alone for that very purpose: a Talon bodyguard detachment would only bring suspicion.

She breathed in the seemingly-toxic-but-not-really smell of Omega: its signature musk, a disgusting fume that smelt like rotting oranges mixed with stale drell perfume. If it hadn't been for her having lived on the station for years and getting used to it, she probably would have left already. Her nose still wrinkled at it however, her disgust unconcealable. There was simply no liking such a smell.

_Omega: home of the desperate. Because how else could you justify living in this glorified shitheap? Even the vorcha must find this place repulsive. The lighting, the smell, the overall architecture...only so much Cerberus can do to pretty it up._

She froze for a split second as she heard a clang of metal to her left.

Swiftly and within a second, she twisted on the spot, crouching as she bent her right knee to kneel on the ground, snatching up her SMG and taking aim at the source as a single talon hovered near the trigger.

There was a tiny squeak, followed by a small bundle of fur dashing across the dusty deck, away from the knocked over bin and away down the street, its little scuttles evaporating into the night.

She sighed, shaking her head as she quickly stood up, holstering her SMG.  _Startled by an Earth hamster. Spirits, get a hold of yourself._

_Could have been a cloaked phantom. I had to be sure._

She turned back, pulling her hood back and over her frill, her sudden turning movement having kicked up enough air to knock it off. Straightening her coat, she turned back, only to be confronted by a glowing, orange light.

She recognized it immediately. Another Cerberus propaganda holoboard, one of many found across the station's many populated quadrants. This one showed a Cerberus assault trooper, crouched and handing food to what looked to be a starved asari child. The child munched happily on the food given, while the trooper, unarmed, kneeled to her level. And standing near them, gigantic and almost Reaper-like in size, stood a massive turian with the Talon insignia on their chest, foot raised and ready to stomp on them both, mandibles stretched in a sneer of fury.

And, as usual, a simple sentence. 'We offer assistance. They offer resistance. Which do you want more?'

_Damn you, Petrovsky. You clever bastard._

It certainly was smart. Not a new tactic, but not one the Hierarchy would endorse. Petrovsky knew he couldn't win the people over by destroying the Talons, so he had to smear their image and make them look like the bad guys, while winning over the population. By doing that, he 1. Took away the public opinion and made them more likely to support Cerberus and 2. Undermined the entire reason for the Talon rebellion. If the people didn't want liberating, what was the point of liberating them?

_The people of Omega deserve better. They deserve their freedom. Petrovsky may be a good man, but the organization he represents will never let Omega live in peace. I won't rest until this station is free from his grip._

Bringing up her omni-tool, she activated her omni-blade and slammed it into the wall. The holoboard stuttered and then blinked out of existence with a blast of circuitry, her blade destroying the projector in a single thrust. Pulling it out, she put her omni-tool away and moved around the corner, ready to continue her investigation.

Nyreen's original mission had been simple: reconnassance. She was familiar with this mission, as it was something she did all the time. Each day, without fail, she would give command of the Talons temporarily to her second-in-command, leave for her pre-selected district alone dressed in civilian clothing, mingle with the crowd for half a day and find Cerberus targets of relative importance. Once she had ascertained a target, she would ping her friends at Talon HQ, they would send a small force, and she would join them in an assault on said Cerberus target and bug out. These targets could be anything. A force field maintenance crew. One of the quadrant outposts. Communications repairs. Random patrols. One of Petrovsky's lieutenants. A convoy. Whatever it was and wherever it was, Nyreen made sure to hit it. And her methods had proven highly effective.

Until today. Today was different.

They had proceeded as usual: except this time it was more defensive. Colonel Farland it seemed had adopted a new strategy for dealing with the Talons, and they were currently sweeping his quadrant for her HQ. This worried her significantly, as they would no doubt find it very quickly, but a recent attack on an Atlas armoured company had dealt a massive blow to their operations, forcing Farland's commanders to pull back, giving up whatever gains they made for Talon troops to retake and once again become entrenched. But it was merely a delaying action.

After this, she had heard reports of unusually large Cerberus troop movement in the Rubicon quadrant: specifically the Zeta District. After checking that no Talon troops had launched unapproved attacks or other rebel groups had developed, Nyreen decided to once again deploy and covertly check out what was going on. After all, the Zeta District encompassed the one area Cerberus restricted access to, and to see several squads, a platoon and a company move through that area was certainly alarming.

Nyreen worried it could be a major offensive. She had no choice but to check it out.

She dashed across the street, out of the shadows, just long enough to reach the other side, slamming against a wall. She heard a rustle from within and quickly ducked, realizing she had accidentally hit a window frame.

_Shit!_

The windows flew open, Nyreen expecting a Cerberus soldier to stick his head out. Instead, she was met by a small batarian child. He immediately saw Nyreen, cocking his head seemingly in confusion. Nyreen, desperate to keep her cover, raised a single finger to her mouth, hoping the motion translated to the little kid.

The child just smiled, reaching a hand. Nyreen realized what he was doing, and she slowly stood up, allowing him to touch her forehead. His grip tightened slightly (or what one would consider tightened for a child) and he lightly giggled. Nyreen's eyes widened.

_I don't know if they align with Cerberus or not. Damn it!_

But to the same degree, the little kid's innocent eyes, that great big grin...all that innocence...it reminded her what she fought for. She fought for things like this.

She motioned the child back inside, closing the windows so as to not alert the child's parents or legal guardians. Windows closed and back into a crouched position, she dashed forward, trying to get out of sight. She could see the street corner just ahead...

...and then she heard footsteps.  _Lots_ of footsteps.

_Running! I can hear people running!_

Nyreen immediately assumed the worst. She stopped, unholstering her SMG as she tucked herself by a nearby bin, ignoring the smell of the rotten refuse as she pressed up against it, keeping one eye exposed to see what was happening.

Her fears were confirmed in an instant. Appearing from around the corner she had been about to turn into, over a dozen Cerberus soldiers emerged, running straight onto the street. Luckily, it seemed they hadn't spotted her. Regardless, their actions caused her to frown: they seemed to be running in response to something, but if not her, then what?

Before she knew it, an entire platoon was running through the clearing, and they weren't stopping. Thirty soldiers, ranging from assault troopers to centurions, guardians to nemesi, phantoms to combat engineers, all made a mad dash down the street, away from Nyreen and around the corner to the far left. One assault trooper carried a large portable machine gun emplacement on his right shoulder, while another carried a missile launcher, as if to deal with something armoured.

_What in the spirits?_

She heard snippets of the centurions' back and forth comm chatter, getting more and more confused as she heard it.

"...sector 9...!"

"...ing from everywhere...!"

"...fuck you mean..?"

"...hole battalion of 'em...!"

"...e ready...!"

Within moments, the voices dissipated and became lesser and lesser before deteriorating to background noise in the distance. She slumped against the bin, no less confused as to what she just saw. Believing most of the Cerberus platoon had moved on to wherever they were going, Nyreen moved to move out, keeping her SMG out just in case more troops arrived.

And then a set of explosions, followed by gunfire and screaming, forced her back into cover, SMG back out and aimed towards the street the platoon disappeared down.

It was like a war had erupted out of nowhere. The familiar electronic shouts of Cerberus soldiers could be heard, but all she heard were sounds of retreat and yelling as gunfire echoed down the street, muzzle flashes erupting around the corner spasmodically, with the telltale boom of a M-300 claymore unmistakable amongst the ruckus. Another explosion sounded, followed by the gunfire dying.

_What in the spirits is happening over there? Is it my men? Do they think I'm in danger and have attacked?_

She watched as a Cerberus assault trooper appeared from around the corner, rifle up and firing at a target around the corner. His head soon exploded from a well placed sniper shot, body crumbling in a heap. Several more troopers arrived, but they weren't firing back...they were  _running_.

Never before had Nyreen  _ever_ seen the enemy  _run_.

_Organized retreats and calm withdrawals, but never a full rout. What is going on over there?_

She soon had her answer.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!?" boomed a thunderous tone, the form of a large krogan in silver battle armor and wielding a claymore in one hand appearing behind one retreating trooper, chuckling with sadistic glee, "You are no worthy foe! You flee like a coward!"

He blasted the soldier in the back with his claymore, the soldier's guts exploding outwards and onto the deck. The soldier took a second to look at the gutless expanse that had appeared in his torso before collapsing forward, dead. The krogan just laughed, stomping over his lifeless corpse as several more krogan followed behind him, followed by even more, and then dozens more...

_Spirits...that's a whole battalion..._

The Cerberus platoon was decimated without mercy. Another trooper, this one a combat engineer, attempted to shoot the silver armoured krogan in the back, but this only irritated him. His eyes notably lit up as a blood rage kicked in, the krogan holstering his shotgun as he reached out and grabbed the soldier by the visor, dragging him until he was directly infront of him. Snarling, his other hand grabbed under the jaw of the engineer, the soldier punching the krogan in the chest desperately, but to no effect. With a howl, the krogan pulled his other hand up, gruesomely tearing the engineer's head off, snapping it off the spine and tossing it away. He kicked the corpse onto the ground, blood pouring onto the ground as the krogan, blood soaking his face, beat his chest and roared into the air, his krogan echoing his war cry as what remained of the platoon was butchered.

A few moments passed in silence, before one of the krogan consulted the silver one. The silver armoured one nodded, before turning to his men and booming, "This was merely a platoon, my brothers! Soon we will link up with Shepard and drive the rest of these pro-human fleshies from their holes! If you want blood, you will have it! Who are we, if not the 1st Aralakh Battalion! Harness the anger of Kalros, and let Cerberus eat it! Omega will be ours! Onward!"

And with that, the krogan battalion, ran down the street the platoon had first appeared from, likely off to continue their butchery of the Cerberus forces. A thunderous horde, the 800 strong krogan force was likely unstoppable. After their roars and massive charge had disappeared around the corner, Nyreen stood up, taking a deep breath and thinking about what she had just seen.

It was obvious that krogan battalion hadn't been here for a while...they had just arrived. And judging by their unit, it was clear they were military: it wasn't some Blood Pack army, which pointed towards UGC involvement. Nyreen had only heard bits and pieces of what was happening in the rest of the galaxy thanks to intercepted, unsecured Cerberus communications and from what she heard, Commander Shepard (or 'captain', as he seemed to be known as now) had been very busy. Curing the genophage. Repelling a Cerberus invasion of the Citadel. Liberating Eden Prime from Cerberus. Creating peace between the quarians and geth. It seemed wherever the man went, he was making a difference. And everybody knew about the UGC at this point.

So what if these krogan were UGC? Could it be the UGC had finally turned its sights on Omega and sent a liberation force?

And then there was no mistaking who that krogan commander mentioned.  _Shepard is here, on Omega. Why else would he be here if not to reclaim the station from Cerberus' hands? He's already disrupted many of their operations. Retaking Omega would more than likely be on his to-do list. If so..._

Even as more gunfire sounded in the distance, Nyreen couldn't help but come to the epiphany of what this actually meant.  _UGC reinforcements could significantly turn the tide of our rebellion against Cerberus. With their help, we can evenly divide their attention, opening up two fronts. And what if that krogan battalion isn't all they brought? There can be no doubt that the UGC wouldn't attack a well defended Cerberus fortress without a large enough ground force: not even krogan are enough. So what did they bring? And how did they break through the Cerberus defense fleet in orbit?_

Whatever the case, Nyreen had to get word of this back to HQ. The rest of the Talons had to know that help had finally arrived: that they could possibly go from 'close to defeat' to 'near total victory' with this new development. Without any more hesitation, Nyreen turned and ran back down the street she came from, her steps light and almost soundless, only light thuds being heard through the empty street as she made the perilous return to her HQ, not wanting to risk announcing it over an unsecured omni-tool channel.

_This is it. A game-changer, at last._

Hopefully it was enough.

**"Now that you're on the ground and Petrovsky's fleet was in ruins, I'm guessing the real war began."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Without a doubt. All my cards were on the table, and Petrovsky soon learnt that the rules of battle had changed. No longer was he just facing Aria. He was facing a fairly worthy opponent."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"You flatter me, Tali. Petrovsky was still just as large a threat. But perhaps he was starting to realize that we weren't going to go down as easily as Aria did the first time."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Sorry for the long wait, but here you go. Another chapter for you to enjoy. Made it extra long so that the wait was worth it.** _

_**Before you ask: yes, I'm loving Mass Effect: Andromeda. With three weeks of holidays coming up, I'm going to be devoting all of my time to it, or at least what I can spare. I'm only 17 percent of the way in: I've recruited all squadmates, and I'm currently working on Eos. Won't spoil anything, but if you're a Mass Effect fan and loved the pace of the first Mass Effect, then pick up this game: it is well worth it.** _

_**Until next time,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	65. Cards Against Cerberus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the cannons disabled, the UGC army moves to regroup at Aria's bunker. Randall and Leng take their unit to assist the Cerberus defense, but are ambushed by Nyreen and her Talons. The Normandy is ready for the Deliverance this time.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE:**

**CARDS AGAINST CERBERUS**

_August 5, 2186_

_1621 hours._

_10th Delilah Street, Rubicon Quadrant, Zeta District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Zeta District._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Moses, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko,_ _First Lieutenant Jack, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak._

The battle was going well.

Ever since leaving the gunnery control center and exiting the tram, the squad had been making a constant push towards the Tuhi District, where Aria's secret bunker was located. With the Cerberus particle cannons out of action, the UGC fleet had steamrolled back in, slamming into the Cerberus fleet. Unfortunately, while the particle cannons were still active, their fire support gave the rest of First Fleet to rally and regroup. Despite the loss of their flagship and almost half of their ships, they were ever relentless, reforming into a strong battle line infront of Omega, using the cannons as naval artillery.

This tactic was shattered when the squad brought down the cannons, but this didn't mean First Fleet was unprepared: with a strong formation, they could hold fast against their enemy. As a result, the UGC was currently entangled in a tense game of attrition with the Cerberus naval forces, but resolved to deploy their ground forces regardless, using their cloak-capable geth dropships to deploy them. As such, the plan was a success, with all of their forces deploying into the Zeta, Caj and Ecez districts without losing a single man. Quickly advancing from all directions, the UGC army converge on Tuhi, engaging Cerberus troops in every direction. There could be no doubt that Petrovsky was taking notice.

But they were absolutely committed: there could be no turning back. Such were Shepard's words as the captain ordered them forward, engaging enemy units wherever they came across them. Despite being initially disorganized, Cerberus forces eventually rallied and began using proper tactics, eventually bringing Shepard's seemingly unstoppable advance to a halt as they were pinned in a street. A platoon of troops, with two more apparently moving in to reinforce them, were currently pushing Shepard's squad back, using dragoons to counter Jack and her students from delivering their normally devastating attacks.

"Push them back! We have them on the run!"

"Kill Shepard!"

"Sniper, flank left!"

"Reinforce the center. Dragoons, push forward. Troopers, covering fire! Where's the goddamn sniper support? I told her to flank left!"

These commands and more were shouted from the centurion in command of the platoon, the commander in question carefully planted behind a parked skycar, occassionally appearing to fire his mattock rifle more accurately: the rest of the time, he blind fired. But all these commands were shouted over a secure comm link, one that Shepard's squad couldn't hear. Or at least shouldn't have been able to.

Unfortunately for them, she was a hacker. And a good one at that.

Together, Tali, Moses and herself were an unstoppable force when it came to hacking. They cracked the heavily encrypted Cerberus communications, quietly listening in on their comms and quickly countering whatever moves they made: this way, they prevented the Cerberus platoon from making any serious headway. What could have been a quick retreat for Shepard's squad turned into a slow, steady one. But not for long: all they had to do was wait for one of the UGC units to arrive and push the platoon back.

She gasped a little as a shot pinged off the wall next to her, the master thief ducking and pressing against the wall. Her cloak was active, so she was worried for a second that Cerberus had somehow spotted her. Luckily for her, the shot had simply been a stray one, with the trooper responsible having fired one last round from his rifle as a sniper round blew the top part of his skull off, spraying shredded metal and brain fragments across the ground. She held a thumbs up, knowing Garrus had likely fired the shot, and quickly returned to her assigned task.

Shepard had given Kasumi one mission: in his words, that mission was "kill that fucking sniper."

Despite hearing their communications quite clearly, the nemesis ordered to snipe on the left flank had managed to reach their assigned position, causing the team a crapload of trouble. Only peeling her cloak to fire her sniper rifle, the nemesis was not only hard to find, but incredibly fast: in the time it for her to down her cloak, fire a shot and then recloak, only a second would pass. Garrus had tried his best to put her down, but all that had done was create a game of snipe-the-sniper, and that hadn't been going well for the squad. James had been nicked across the shoulder by a lucky miss, Hillary had almost been shot in the foot and Moses had taken a round in the torso meant for Javik's head. Overall, that sniper would eventually land a shot, and when it did, somebody would die or be seriously wounded.

Marcus deemed that unacceptable.

She made sure her movements weren't too quick or loud, so that her cloak wasn't rendered useless. That was the thing with cloaking: despite contrary belief, one wasn't completely invisible when using it. There was vibrations and warping left in the air where she was, making it very easy for a skilled and clever soldier to spot and pour fire into: it also didn't help that cloaks had a cooldown timer, as the energy used to fuel it caused a significant drain, and needed time to recharge, making it only useful for quick traversal of the terrain.

Luckily, Kasumi had a rare version: a cloak that didn't need a recharge. It took energy siphoned from her omni-tool, overclocking it to create a permanent cloak, but rendering her omni-tool unusable in the mean time. She was also quick and agile, and few were able to spot her when she had her cloak up. That's what she was a master thief. Why she wasn't famous: to be a famous thief was to be caught, and Kasumi was never caught.

But to call herself a thief now was to be ironic. Thieves didn't take orders, and they most certainly didn't navigate enemy lines to take care of snipers.

_Life used to be so easy. Nothing but heists and delicious goodies to steal. Now I'm reliable and dependable. Now I take orders like a proper soldier._

She inwardly pouted.  _Should have just gone to work on the Crucible. Probably would have been easier. All that tech lying around...it's not like they would have checked my pockets after the project was finished. That would have been very nice indeed...but noooooo. No, Shep reeled me in with promises of Jacob's abs and Garrus' uncompromising charisma. Damn I'm so buyable._

She stopped, groaning mentally. There was an assault trooper in her way, having recently taken cover and preparing to use a grenade launcher to fire upon their left flank. The trooper was loading a fresh round into the chamber of the M-100 launcher when Kasumi contacted her turian friend, "Garrus, we've got a trooper on the left. He's got a grenade launcher."

A mere second later. "I see him."

The trooper, still loading his weapon, was thrown back into the wall, weapon falling from his grip as blood erupted from his throat, quickly drenching the front of his armor and squirting across the deck. Kasumi winced, having never truly gotten used to the sight, and the more gruesome the death, the more sick it made her. But the thief had long since learnt to control her bowels, turning away from the choking trooper and stepping carefully over him, moving into a split second jog so as to escape the smell and the sight of his corpse.

"Thanks Garrus."

"No problem...damn!"

She stopped, wide eyed, "Are you okay, Garrus!?"  _Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead..._

"I'm fine!" the turian yelled out, and it was only now Kasumi realized her heart was racing at a million miles per hour. She began to calm down, but was confused at her odd behaviour, "Damn sniper! Only just managed to avoid getting my head blown off. My fault, I guess. Got sloppy. Should have checked my corners."

Despite the situation, she managed a laugh, "Just like you to not pay attention, Garrus."

"It's hard to when you're constantly prancing around like a thief who just got away with a heist," the turian rebuked.

"I  _am_  a thief, Garrus. A master thief."

"Yeah, well do us both a favour and  _steal_ the life of that sniper for me, would you?"

She nodded, wiping the grin from her face as she unholstered her SMG, quickly approaching the beginning of the second dragoon's biotic barrier, "Got it. Approaching the barrier now."

"Understood. Remember, once you're in that field I can't cover you. You'll have to take down the sniper and that dragoon. Copy?"

"Loud and copy, Garbear."

She revelled in the groan over the comm, "Can you  _please_ stop with your strange human nicknames! I will never understand a single one of them..."

"Moving in now,  _Garbear_."

Garrus didn't bother with a response, simply going silent as Kasumi approached the barrier. Like a glowing dome of light, the biotic field stood strong and impregnable, sizzling dark energy protecting the majority of the Cerberus platoon from the squad's combined arms fire. She could see the dragoon responsible standing behind cover with his arms spread wide, the liquid blue flames extending from his fingertips to diverge in the sky like a cloud...a protective, impervious-to-bullets-and-explosives cloud. The second dragoon stood on the right flank, a barrier of his own protecting the other half of the street. If even one of them fell, the Cerberus platoon would be vulnerable.

She crouched immediately, checking her SMG to ensure a clip was secured inside: she had done this four times on her approach, and she was no less paranoid.  _No telling what could happen. Weapon could jam up, could turn out to have no ammo loaded or have loaded a clip with no ammo in it...I have to be careful._

_Or I could just use my omni-blade._

She thought on it for a second before sighing and nodding, holstering her weapon in favour of the omni-blade program loaded on her omni-tool.  _No need to worry about this having ammo...this thing'll take her head right off without much effort._

With a final exhale, she grabbed the edge of her cover and lifted herself up and over it, mantling over the sheet of metal and sliding over its smooth surface, the skycar powered down and offline. It was littered with bulletholes and the glass cockpit shattered. As she slid across it, numerous, smaller, glass fragments were knocked onto the ground, and Kasumi winced as some of it cut into her suit, piercing her skin and drawing blood. She bit down on her lip and kept the pain to herself, dashing pas the biotic barrier and towards a nearby wall where she could blend in.

Crossing the barrier felt odd: a cold, bubbly feeling washed over her skin, making her shiver slightly but also warming her up inside. The feeling passed as quickly as it arrived, Kasumi effectively finding herself behind enemy lines and without fire support. She quietly slid up next to the wall, holding in her breath as a guardian stalked forward, his shield pressed up against him, eyes looking through the slot while his other hand fired his Talon pistol. Two assault troopers advanced up behind the guardian, using him as cover while coming out to fire the odd shot. They crossed the barrier, where the guardian immediately collapsed onto the ground, Garrus having blown his head off through the slot. Shield dropped and now out in the open, the two troopers attempted a fighting retreat, only to be cut down by James' Revenant machine gun, their bodies falling to the ground in seconds.

Turning back, she heard a loud gunshot off, the sniper round passing through the barrier and EDI in the chest. Luckily, the AI had augmented her frontal armor plating, allowing her to survive the impact. EDI quickly ducked back behind cover, out of the sniper's line of sight. But Kasumi turned in time to watch the nemesis in question disappear behind cover again, the sound of a cloak being activated unmistakable.

Her eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. She clenched her right fist and began to slowly stalk towards the sniper's position.  _I see you._

The nemesis was positioned exactly four meters from her: she was hiding in an alleyway, the lack of lighting aiding her cloak's invisibility, giving her the perfect sharpshooting positioning. Given the sniper's lack of a response, it was clear she hadn't spotted Kasumi: which was perfect. The thief steadily moved forward, ever so light on her feet, careful to not surrender her position to the sniper's likely augmented hearing.

She arrived, crouching and moving around the corner quickly, managing to reach the other side just as the nemesis finished reloading and turned back around, her M-13 Raptor sniper rifle firing off six shots in rapid succession, the rounds pinging off cover as the squad remained in cover, only rearing their heads to take down any troops daring enough to attempt to close the gap.

Kasumi knew it would be best to wait until the nemesis moved to fire again. As it was, Kasumi prepared to drop her cloak, silently watching as the nemesis slipped back around the corner, cloaking as she slaps a new clip into the semi-automatic, armour-piercing, STG designed sniper rifle. There was a few seconds of hesitation before the nemesis emerged from cover, turning her back to Kasumi, and therefore giving the thief the perfect opening...

Kasumi dropped her cloak, and swooped in for the kill, summoning her omni-blade. The nemesis dropped her cloak, preparing to take the shot. Kasumi brought up her omni-blade, and swooped in.

...only for the nemesis to duck under the sweep, Kasumi's blade passing harmlessly by. The nemesis, crouched, spun on the spot and punched her in the stomach. Kasumi, winded by the cybernetically reinforced blow, blew back into the opposite wall, omni-tool deactivating as the nemesis stood up, dropping her sniper rifle as she lunged at the vulnerable thief.

Wincing painfully as the open wounds caused by the glass from before stung from the impact, Kasumi quickly brought up one leg and lashed out, striking the nemesis in the head. Staggered from the impact, the thief was given enough time to stand back up, her hood knocked off her head and crinkled to one side, her hair tied back. The thief frowned.

_This one's pretty smart. She must've known I was there and elected to lure me into a false sense of security. And me being behind the barrier means I'm left to fight her alone..._

Growling with their usual feministic electronic tone, the nemesis charged forward, lithe body lined in body armour not nearly being as threatening as a armoured assault trooper, but no less a threat.

Raising her Locust SMG, the thief moved to take aim and fire, only for the nemesis to speed up and punch Kasumi in the hand, the pain causing Kasumi's hand to reflexively to open up, dropping the SMG. The nemesis kicked it away and out of the thief's reach, delivering a quick strike to the face. She staggered from the blow, but used the momentum of her spin to fly back and strike back at the nemesis' own face.

The nemesis quickly blocked it, her reflexes and cybernetics making her superior to Kasumi in hand-to-hand. She struck Kasumi twice in the stomach once more with her knee, before quickly reaching under Kasumi's body, wrapping one arm around behind her knees, picking the thief up and into the air, before slamming her back into the ground.

She cried out as the impact likely left bruises along her back, the air exploding from her lungs as she desperately tried to breathe it back in, coughing at the intense reek of refuse. The nemesis muttered electronically, likely communicating and reassuring her cohorts, before kneeling down and straddling Kasumi. She quickly wrapped her hands around Kasumi's throat, tightening her grip as she began to choke the thief to death.

Kasumi's cheeks puffed, the thief gasping for air as she felt it brutally stolen from her. The nemesis was relentless, despite Kasumi's attempts to fight back. In the end, the thief knew she would die if she didn't get her shit together.

_You helped defeat the Collectors, girl. Get up! Quit being such a wuss and fight back!_

The nemesis screeched at her, as if demanding Kasumi die in some alien tongue. The single red optic seemed to burn into Kasumi's skull with the intensity of the light shining in her eyes, almost blinding her. She struck the nemesis in the face with a fist, but the blow merely pinged off the nemesis' helmet, knocking her only slightly. She remained unmoved, face staring down her victim as her grip tightened and tightened. She could feel armoured fingers digging into her skin, scraping at it.

Black tendrils began to feed on her vision, and her throat felt like it was on fire as it worked and worked to consume what little air was left in her lungs. All while this happened, she reached to her hip, fumbling for her knife...

_Die...you...little...bitch...get...off me..._

Finally, her barely functioning fingers wrapped around her knife and unsheathed it. The nemesis discovered the sound, turning her head to address it, but was too late. Kasumi tore the knife free and immediately lunged it upwards, slamming it into the exposed neck of the nemesis. It screamed as the sharp point penetrated the unarmoured suit around her neck, digging deep and likely rupturing her oesophagus.

The nemesis' grip on her neck released, and Kasumi inhaled the largest amount of air she had ever breathed in. It was almost overwhelming, her lungs spasmed as they consumed the large amount of oxygen they took in. The thief shoved the nemesis off of her, rolling over and coughing onto the ground, saliva dripping down her lips and some being spat onto the ground. A few seconds passed as Kasumi rubbed the red marks around her throat, waiting for her breath to start steadying before she turned to deal with the nemesis.

She needn't bothered. The nemesis lay face first on the ground, arms spread out, blackish red blood pooling around her head. She had stopped moving, with only her fingers twitching ever so slightly. No sounds came out of her, and Kasumi could see the nemesis had tried reaching for her sniper rifle, only to fall woefully short. Regardless, the nemesis was now dead, and the threat she posed gone. Approaching her, Kasumi kneeled down and reached under, wrenching her knife free. Her nose twitched at the intense bloody stench, her removal of the knife causing a veritable flow of fresh blood to pool out, causing the already present pool to rapidly expand. Kasumi navigated clear of it, wiping the blood on her blade on the nemesis' leather suit before sheathing it.

She turned back, rushing over and picking up her SMG. At this point, she was exhausted due to the fight for her life, and having had enough of the battle already, she raised her SMG, taking aim and fired at the side of the second dragoon's head. His kinetic barriers reflected the blast initially, but Kasumi continued to empty shots in short bursts until the barriers flashed and fell. By the time the dragoon had turned to address the attack, Kasumi fired her final shot, the SMG clicking empty as she tried to fire again.

The dragoon's head snapped back as the shot burst through his visor and blew his brains out, body falling backwards. The blue energy erupting from his hands dissipated instantly, taking the barrier with it: before they knew it, half the Cerberus platoon was now exposed.

Kasumi hit the comms with Marcus, "Sniper is down. Barrier is gone. They're all yours, Shep." Before the Cerberus soldiers could respond to her attack, she reactivated her cloak and returned safely to the squad, joining up with them as they pushed forward, but not before she used her omni-blade to nick at the femoral artery of a guardian's leg. He collapsed forward, red essence pouring down his leg, kneeling on one knee, neglecting his massive shield. Exposed, he was finished off by Kaidan, who fired once into the soldier's face, putting him down for good.

As Kasumi fell into cover, James stood up and opened up with his Revenant, tearing apart a trio of assault troopers attempting to withdraw. Before he could target an exposed guardian, the guardian in question spun and slammed his shield down, the LMG's rounds pinging harmlessly off the shield. The guardian fired back with his heavy pistol, Vega's shields flashing and the marine cursing as he was forced to resume cover. He was joined by Javik and Keeling, the former of who summoned his odd, green biotics to bring up a barrier, deflecting any further shots from impacting. The guardian began to move back, holding his shield up, firing all the way.

Kaidan was getting up to fire again when Marcus landed beside her, hand on her shoulder and turning her around. His eyes seemed to widen at seeing the red marks on her neck, and he looked into her eyes, "Are you okay? What happened?"

Kasumi rubbed her neck slightly, the entire area being extremely sore, but refused to give in to his concern, "I'm fine. Nemesis fought back, that's all. She's dead now and I'm alive, so it doesn't matter, Shep."

He frowned at her before simply nodding, "Just making sure you're alright. If you're good to fight, I want you to join Garrus in moving up."

"Shepard!" yelled Aria, punctuating her shouting with the boom of a shotgun blast, "We going to sit here or move the fuck up!?"

"We're moving up!" Marcus fired back in return, barely sparing Kasumi a glance before he stepped up and sprinted over, pulse rifle peppering the retreating guardian and the many troops beside him as the N7 Spectre joined Aria, Jack and Liara in using their biotics to engage the last dragoon holding the flank.

Following orders, Kasumi quickly located Garrus and activated her cloak, closing the distance. She found Tali and EDI beside him, the turian having propped up his sniper rifle and firing at any target stupid enough to rear their head. Tali was on his right, back against the wall and fingers dancing on her omni-tool, likely hacking the enemy's systems and causing chaos amongst their ranks. EDI was on his left, drawing most of the enemy fire as she used her SMG and her own tech abilities to assist in their own advance.

Landing beside Garrus, she crouched and decloaked, adopting a cheery tone as she propped her chin up on one elbow, "Hey, Garry. Miss me?"

His mandibles clicked, but he otherwise remained vigilant, ever focused on picking out targets, "Of course I missed you. I'm not out to kill you. Yet."

"You're a funny guy," Kasumi replied dryly. She turned to Tali, eager to see what the quarian was up to, "And what exactly are you doing, Tali?"

"There's a combat engineer running riot with our weapons. Sabotage, omni-tool viruses, shield overloading...you name a tech attack, he's doing it. Well, attempting it. Pity he doesn't know I'm here. Keelah...he's getting sloppy. Hasn't even developed cyberwarfare firewalls on his own omni-tool, so now I'm reflecting everything he's trying to do back at him. He tries to overheat our weapons, his own overheats. He tries taking down our shields, his go down and gifts energy to me. I think he's getting just a little frustrated."

She turned to EDI, grinning all the way and feeling her fighting spirit coming back, "And you, EDI?"

"Trying to find said engineer," the AI remarked, ducking back down to reload before standing up and rapidly snapping off shots again, "He is very well hidden. I'm relying on Tali to compromise his position."

Tali yelled in triumph, Kasumi turning to see the quarian turn off her omni-tool and whip out her pistol, "...which you will be getting any time around...now. Managed to trigger the bosh'tet's translocator device...and he's transmitting straight to us!"

"Nice job, bucket!" she held up a hand for a high-five. Tali reciprocated it, the two girls slamming their hands together before Tali turned back and started firing at targets with her arc pistol.

"Engineer located. He is with the centurion, behind the skycar," EDI announced.

"Moses!" Garrus barked, waving at the geth prime, who was currently launching everything it had at the enemy, "Target the skycar! Two high value targets! Destroying the car should do it! Or at least expose them anyway!"

"Acknowledged," was the prime's monotone response. Reassigning targets, it fired its pulse cannon at the skycar, the repetitious bursts destroying the vehicle after two hits in a fiery blaze of mayhem. The vehicle was thrown aside like a leaf on the wind from the blast, flames trickling out from under it as it went crashing into a wall. Where it once lay...the knocked over forms of the centurion and combat engineer.

Garrus fired his first shot through the skull of the combat engineer, ending his reign of technological terror. He then took aim on the centurion, who was staggering to get up, firing another shot through the side of his head, killing him as well. With the platoon's only defense against tech attacks and commander both dead, the platoon would soon be finished.

Her knees, almost covered in grime from kneeling on the ground for so long, began to ache. The thief ignored the discomfort, too focused on just how close had come to death in those few short moments. Cybernetic hands tightening around her throat, clenching and tighter than a vice...arms too powerful and strong to knock away, sucking the life out of her, and she had been nearly helpless to stop it.

_If not for that spare knife...I don't think I would have gotten out of that alive._

It was just one more reminder that Kasumi was no soldier. She was a thief. People hired her to capture paintings, not to kill armed men and women.  _I robbed art galleries, for crying out loud! What made anyone think I was qualified for this?_

The last Cerberus soldier caught outside the barrier fell, body almost shifting spastically as bullet after bullet hit him from multiple directions. He eventually fell, chest smoking from the amount of ammunition poured into him. It was the guardian from before.

The rest of the enemy platoon lay behind the first dragoon's barrier, who remained absolutely adamant. The dozen or few soldiers left prepared for one final defense, waiting for Marcus and his squad to charge through the shield so they could hammer them with arms fire. But just as Marcus ordered Jack and Aria forward to bring down the last dragoon, the soldiers seemed to gain newfound strength...as if motivated by something. They charged from the barrier, reclaiming their former positions and assuming their original battl-

"Fall back!" Marcus barked over the comms, Kasumi turning in a hurry to see him, Kaidan, Liara, Jack, her students, Aria, and the others falling back while Javik covered them with a biotic barrier. It didn't take long for her to see the reason why.

Cerberus reinforcements had arrived. The two platoons sent in to reinforce the dwindling unit had finally arrived, coming in from opposite ends of the street. A line of guardians, eight of them in a phalanx position, moved forward with their shields obscuring their features, their weapons holstered and simply acting as a forward line from where the enemy backup could move in without being harassed. Smoke grenades shot out from behind them, coming to a stop infront of them and spewing thick clouds of smoke over the street, obscuring their vision. Marcus didn't have to ask: everybody switched to their thermals, including Kasumi, who quickly found her vision lighting up with the movement of dozens of orange smears.

She ducked as gunfire assaulted their position all at once, the Cerberus reinforcements pouring into defensive entrenchments all across the street. The sniper Kasumi killed was replaced with another, as well as one on the other side of the street, while four combat engineers moved in to replace the one the platoon lost. Another dragoon, along with two more, moved in and recreated the barrier the other one had lost, while the other dragoons acted as the biotic artillery Cerberus had lacked so far. Before the squad knew it, they were right back to square one.

It was almost like they hadn't made any progress at all.

"Fuck!" Marcus cursed over the comms, angry and frustrated, "These assholes just keep coming! We need to find a way to circumvent their defenses and get around them! If we can attack from the rear as well as from the front, we can box them in! Kaidan, take Javik, Keeling, Liara, Moses and EDI and get around them! We'll coordinate with you and strike simultaneously! That should divide their attention! But we have to act quickly...no doubt more reinforcements are on the way!"

"Keelah!"

Kasumi turned to Tali, who was now back on her omni-tool, but before she could speak, Marcus had already done so, "What's wrong, Tali?"

"Those combat engineers have overridden my hack! We can't hear their communications anymore! I'll try my best to hack back into them but until then we're-"

An unearthly scream sounded across the street, silencing any and all combat.

The whole squad turned to the source of the scream, lowering their weapons and seemingly forgetting the Cerberus platoons infront of them.

Kasumi recognized the sound. It was the sound of monsters. Of an angry, furious army. A relentless foe was headed their way...

...for Cerberus' way.

Down the street, directly behind them, was a horde of angry, red and green chitin storming through the street towards them. Their screeches got louder, solidfying into a single, prominent and well heard war cry, their thunderous march punctuated by their stampede. They rushed towards the squad at full pelt, sprinting as fast as they could: insects of varying sizes, from the size of a cat to the size of a small krogan, each type intermingled with one another to become a seething mass of furious murder.

Kasumi was glad the rachni were on their side at times like this.

"Everybody, get out of the way!" Marcus barked, and nobody bothered to argue. Garrus immediately collapsed his sniper rifle and holstered it, with Tali and EDI picking themselves up and running to the right of the street, Kasumi not far behind. The others rushed towards whatever direction was closest, with Jack and her students, Aria and Liara ending up on the side where Kasumi had chosen to go. And they got off the street just in time too.

The rachni horde stormed past, stopping for nothing and focused entirely on its enemy. The Cerberus troops, their thermals likely picking up the rachni, focused on their new enemy, firing as quickly and as accurately as they could. A dozen rachni workers were shot and killed instantly, rolling along the ground, green blood oozing out from the massive holes in their chest, but it barely slowed the rachni advance.

Her thermals still switched on, Kasumi watched as the rachni practically skipped through the smoke and slammed into the Cerberus front line. Over a dozen soldiers were instantly slaughtered, the rachni soldiers using their arms to tear whole limbs off, with one bissecting a centurion in half, using his upper torso as a projectile to throw at a nearby guardian. Screams and more gunfire were heard as Cerberus realized exactly what was happening, desperately trying to retreat as the rachni surged over their lines and butchered their troops.

For Kasumi, it felt like minutes passed as the rachni annihilated their foe methodically and without mercy. Brood warriors used their biotics to battle the dragoons, eventually coming out on top and ripping them apart with pure dark energy. Rachni workers swarmed across the guardian's phalanx, getting around their shields and devouring them.

In reality, it took the rachni all of eleven seconds to completely deconstruct the Cerberus platoons and send the rest routing.

When it was all over, and the smoke cleared to demonstrate the raw power of the rachni charge, there was nothing but a red expanse, stretching across the street. Brains, gore, severed limbs, blood and viscera littered the street. A combat engineer stumbled, right arm missing, looking dazed. He eventually collapsed to his knees and fell face forward, dead, the remains of his chewed up arm beside him. It was a bloodbath.

"Keelah..." Tali mumbled under her breath.

"I'm never going to get used to seeing that," Kaidan admitted, "I know the rachni are on our side, and I'm glad for that, but this is...damn. Just damn."

"Cerberus forces will be retreating. We musn't let the rachni's push go to waste. We push forward squad," Marcus declared, turning to Garrus and Tali, "You two, on me. Kaidan, Keeling...watch the flanks. Moses, you're behind us with Jack and the students. Aria, you lead the way. We've got to get to your bunker."

Aria shook her head, wiping the blood from her forehead before reloading her shotgun, "First, we've got to find and link up with my daughter. She's leading a contingent of my men towards the bunker, and I'd recommend regrouping with her so our forces are stronger."

A few moments passed, and Marcus seemed to frown, turning away and nodding at someone who wasn't there. Before anyone could ask what was wrong with him, a rachni soldier appeared, stopping infront of Marcus. The N7 nodded silently to the rachni, before pointing to himself and then pointing ahead. The soldier's pedipalps shifted to show its acknowlegement, and the rest of the rachni army soon appeared to accompany the squad.

Marcus turned to the squad, who all frowned at him. Realizing what they wanted, he held up a placating hand, knowing they'd want an explanation, "Rachni like to talk telepathically, remember? I was just discussing our next move with them. They'll accompany us to Aria's bunker and provide further combat support."

_Oh...telepathy. So that's totally a thing._

With a sigh, Kasumi simply shrugged.  _Ah, what the hell. Amount of stuff we've done, telepathy isn't exactly the weirdest._

Without waiting much longer, the squad, along with their rachni reinforcements, moved up the street as planned, moving past the slaughtered Cerberus platoons. The stench was so much that Kasumi had to activate her olfactory filters to get rid of it. The smell of Omega was bad enough, it didn't need the smell of fresh corpses too.

_Lots of limpless corpses...bloody corpses...and I'm a thief. Why did I let myself get dragged into this._

She couldn't help the glance she gave Garrus. It seemed almost...mandatory, given her thoughts. Almost as if her mind was directing her to a certain line of thought. She frowned, finding the implications implausible, the two of them having already accepted what their friendship was. But the thing was that her heart had a different opinion.

_Silly heart. Always the emotional one. Remember who owns you._

Still though, it did make her wonder why she stuck around if not for Jacob.

_He's dead and I'm still here. I clearly hate this war and I'm not a soldier. So why hang around? What's stopping me from leaving? Is the answer obvious or am I just a git?_

She paused on that, even as she physically advanced along the street, passing the dead bodies and equipping her SMG, aiming high and scanning for targets, especially of the cloaked nemesis variety.

_It's sad when I honestly can't tell which I'm supposed to be. Git or dense. Dense or git. Or maybe I'm a dense git? They're not necessarily mutually exclusive..._

She shook her head, exasperated.

_For somebody who's mind is made up, you seem awfully argumentative, Kasumi. Perhaps you haven't decided after all._

But thoughts like that were for another time. Right now, they had a mission to complete. They had to get to Aria's bunker.

Aria's voice was enough to shatter her thoughts for her, "Wait up ladies, we have to go around this corner. We have to reach the Tuhi district, and it's to the west of here." The asari pointed left, around a rather large corner. One Cerberus forces could be hiding behind...

"Be ready," Marcus ordered, moving up and tapping Aria on the shoulder. The asari turned to him, annoyed by the interruption, "I'll see what's waiting for us. Then I'll signal us to move up if it's clear."

True to his word, the captain moved forward and around the corner, weapon raised...

...only for him to immediately return, his shields dead and gunfire trailing him for a few moments before dissipating.

"Well shit," Marcus gasped, shaking his head and banging the wall behind him with his one free hand, "It's going to take more than rachni to breach this defense line."

"More Cerberus?" Liara asked.

"Yep, and a fuckton," he replied, not daring to peek his head out for fear of his head getting blown off, "They're dug in deep: looks like they've been waiting for us a while now. They have several soldiers equipped with grenade launchers, and a row of at least three machine gun emplacements, using scavenged crates to put them on. The've got what looks to be an entire company entrenched, and they've got guardians and dragoons lining the wall. I saw an Atlas mech in support, as well as two M28 Angel IFVs and a single M32 Thresher. From the looks of it, they're not going to budge, and no manner of rachni charge is going to break their line. Looks like we'll have to dig in and prep for a siege until we get some reinforcements," Marcus quickly hit the comms, speaking on the entire dedicated UGC frequency, "All forces, this is Captain Shepard. We're bogged down in the Zeta District and we've got a Cerberus company dug in deep. Require immediate assistance to punch through their line, over. Any forces in the area...please answer."

A few moments, followed by a, what might as well have been, a heavenly voice, "This is Battalion Commander Urdnot Grunt of the 1st Aralakh, somebody call for some backup? I should think eight hundred angry krogan commandos will be enough."

"You're a god-send Grunt," the captain replied, "We're on 10th Delilah Street, how long until you can conceivably reach us?"

"From where we are? Fifteen minutes. You'll have to hold out until then."

Marcus nodded, "Will do. See you soon, Grunt. Shepard out."

With a sigh, he turned to the squad, nodding, "I know, it's not what we wanted to hear, but it is what it is. I want all of you to dig in and spread out. Moses and I will provide covering fire so that some of you can reach the other side. From there, we will divide their fire and keep them bunkered down: we'll whittle them down with bug bites. By the time Grunt's battalion arrives, we can use their heavy weapons to punch through. Until then, let's get to it people."

Kasumi sighed, holding up her SMG and gripping it tightly, watching as the squad prepared for a fifteen minute siege of the Cerberus entrenchments.

_I'm not a soldier. I'm a thief. I'm not a soldier. I'm a thief._

If she kept telling herself that, maybe someday it would be true again.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1627 hours._

_Cerberus Military Barracks, Omega Apex, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng._

He turned the helmet around in his hands, fingers smoothing over the helmet of his Liberator armor. For eleven years of his life, this armor had as much a part of his physiology as his own skin. He had worn it when he was in the Corsairs, and he had taken it with him when he defected to Cerberus. He had repainted it at least four times, and there was enough dried blood, red to blue to green to white, marred on its surface to form a series of intricate patterns along the chest, helmet and legs. He never washed it off...it was a reminder of the lives he had taken to get to where he was. Some would call them trophies: he called them sentiments. Fragments of his past.

He turned the helmet until the visor was facing him, Randall Ezno looking down into it like was looking into somebody's eyes. He almost wished for a response, like he wanted the helmet to talk to him, tell him what to do. Instead, he got silence, his tinted visor looking back up at him, representing what he already knew: an empty carapace waiting for him to gift it with his wearing of it. A material designed for protecting him and nothing more. Not a person.

 _Not_  a person.

As he sat on one of the crates in the barracks, looming over his armor, he began to think of his purpose and existence. He was a soldier, through and through. He practically bled the same white and gold color that Cerberus used to represent themselves. He was a firm believer in what the Illusive Man stood for, and he would willingly die for him if it meant he was defending humanity. For him, there simply wasn't a difference. So when he was enlisted as a manhunter, with the sole purpose of hunting down those the Illusive Man viewed as useful and capturing them, he didn't hesitate to answer his call. He was his servant. Humanity's servant.

Sure, he wasn't Leng. He didn't bark every time the Illusive Man told him too. Randall had disagreements with the Illusive Man, but unlike men like Jacob Taylor, he kept it to himself and got on with the mission. Because no matter how much he disagreed with him, he was still their leader and knew what was best for all of them. That's what seperated him from men like Leng and Taylor. He wasn't some mindless attack dog. He wasn't a rabid animal who's only goal was to kill those he didn't agree with like Leng did: he was a sadistic scumbag. Randall was anything but that: he questioned, he listened and he did. He didn't have the luxury of extended conversation or debate, and he certainly didn't have the time to question the Illusive Man's every move, especially when humanity's survival depended on listening to him. Taylor may have come from the same breed as Ezno, but they were entirely different people when it came to their modus operandi.

And now Taylor was dead, and Randall wasn't. Goes to show who prevails in the end.

Just like always, that brought his thoughts to Shepard. A man he despised.

Everything about the man irritated him. His hatred of Cerberus and their ideals. His utter contempt for their goals and intentions. The lack of respect towards the Illusive Man in general. Shepard had outwardly gone out of his way to make hell for Cerberus, ranging from disclosing the location of important Cerberus facilities to countering every Cerberus attempt to stop the Reapers. Where he saw an enemy to be destroyed, the Illusive Man saw one to be controlled and dominated: it was difficult to see Shepard as the good guy here.

Everything they did was preservation. When Cerberus landed on Eden Prime, it was to prepare the planet for the inevitable Reaper invasion. When they invaded the Citadel, it was to remove the weak leadership of the Council and replace it with an all-human Council that would properly lead the galaxy in fighting back the Reaper threat. Even now, as the UGC invades Omega, with Shepard in command...Petrovsky was the only man to give Omega exactly what a proper state needs: security, justice, freedom, welfare and order. Without those five things, Omega was just a shithole: Petrovsky was changing it for the better.

And then Shepard just had to 'liberate' Eden Prime, leaving it vulnerable to Reaper invasion. To 'save' the Citadel, allowing the weak Council to continue their entirely impudent rule. And now, they were going to 'reclaim' Omega, perhaps ensuing the worst insult of them all: to replace a fair and just ruler with a ruthless, reckless and chaotic bitch of a woman. How Shepard could sleep knowing what he was trying to do to Omega was beyond him, but Randall knew it was within his power to stop him.

Shepard was indoctrinated, that much had to be obvious. Why else would he do everything in his power to stop Cerberus, the one organization actually trying to stop the Reapers through unconventional means? While the UGC fumbled around with their Crucible, seeking to use it for malevolent purposes, Cerberus saw a future: one filled with control of the Reapers, one where the Reapers served humanity and the galaxy for the greater good, and not for their extinction.

Shepard was no good guy. He was not the man of the hour. He was a monster. And worst of all, he was indoctrinated. Randall was sure of it.

_If I have to put him down, I will. His continued destructive behaviour will only doom us all. He must be stopped. If I have to help a man like Leng achieve that goal, so be it. I can live with it. I've lived with many other deaths, Shepard will just be another addition._

Shepard was an honourable man once, but perhaps Project Lazarus had changed him in ways the Illusive Man couldn't begin to comprehend. Now he was selfish, self-destructive and a force of nature with negative connotations: his path of destruction and the piles of the dead he left behind him only cemented this belief.

Shepard had to die. It was that simple. Cerberus was through with Shepard, and Shepard was through with them. To describe it as anything else was folly.

He gently leaned over, now wearing the undersuit of his armor from neck to toe, and picked up the chestplate of his Liberator armor. He fitted each piece onto his body with careful moderation, making sure to check every seal, every piece of hardware and the very integrity of it all. As he locked his helmet over his head and booted up the HUD, he checked his vitals, ammo, motion tracker, omni-tool readings, biotic implant readings and more. Confident that everything was linked up to his armor and was in perfect working order, he fitted on the rest of his armor, finishing with his gauntlets. Looking down on them, he clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling them creak with each flex. This armor had seen a lot of action and many battles. It was by no means state-of-the-art, but Randall would never replace it. It held a special place within him. No matter what happened, he would never get rid of it: he would only modify and upgrade it.

Suddenly, he felt a growing pain in his chest. It was subtle at first, but grew in intensity. It felt like his gut was being crushed under a massive chest, almost as if the muscles within were tightening and untightening at a rapid enough pace to be excruciatingly painful.

He winced, biting down on his lip as he waited for the moment to pass, both fists clenching with a loud creak and an audible strain. These muscle spasms were something Randall encountered often, and they almost never happened consistently: there would sometimes be weeks of inactivity before a spasm, and other times mere hours. They left as quick as they arrived, but left Randall in immense pain for a short period. While muscle spasms were a natural phenomenon in all humans, these were made more persistent and agonizing due to his cybernetics which, unlike with Leng, hadn't reacted well to his physiology. While they initially rejected his body and his body rejected them, they both eventually worked in tandem...at the cost of the muscle spasms.

After a minute or two (he lost count), the spasm wore off, muscles untightening as they relaxed and his fists unclenched. The gauntlets practically sighed as the stress placed upon them was immediately lifted, with Randall sweating slightly from having to endure it for so long. He took a deep breath, remaining silent and doing his best to not draw attention to himself.

_That was the longest spasm yet. They're definitely getting worse. I'll have to see a doctor at some point to get my cybernetic implants checked out, see if they're malfunctioning or if my body is rejecting them again._

Either way, with the pain gone and his armor fitted on, he reached out to his omni-tool and slipped it on, activating it and quickly bringing his kinetic barriers online, Randall watching on his HUD as an additional bar across the top rapidly filled up. Before he could reach down and pick up his rifle, a grating, smug voice interrupted his thoughts, approaching from his immediate left.

"We should have received orders to move already," Leng complained, Randall continuing to look at his omni-tool as the Cerberus assassin began his rant, "While we wait, Shepard continues to advance. I say we take a company of troops, intercept and kill him. Finish him off, once and for all."

And there was a man Randall hated more than most. He wasn't a man to dish out prejudices without rational thinking. For instance, he didn't hate quarians or krogan or geth or any of the other Citadel races, they were just his enemy. He didn't hate groups that support peace and cooperation with them. He was no xenophobe by any stretch. He may have despised Shepard's current actions, but he held no real malice towards the man: they were both doing what they thought was right, and it was just inconvenient that what they thought was right meant killing the other.

For former Captain Kai Leng, Randall made an exception. It was this man that Randall chose to hate.

There was a multitude of reasons for why. The man was impossible to work with: a lone wolf by nature, an imbecile when it came to tactics and an inept leader: he was everything Shepard wasn't, and everything Randall found irredeemable. Randall was, unofficially, Leng's field commander, despite Leng technically operating under the Illusive Man's beck-and-call: after all, he was an assassin, and Randall was a manhunter: two entirely different goals. One assassinated, the other captured. One was adept at killing, the other was adept at withholding the urge to kill. They were entirely different fields working together towards one goal.

Leng was just especially hard to work with: rash, reckless, prone to anger, violently hateful and xenophobic, sadistic, a quick decision maker, desperate to please and impress the Illusive Man and loyal to the point of being a kissass: when Randall said he 'followed orders to the letter while silently questioning them', he was beginning to believe it was impossible for Leng to question anything he was told by the Illusive Man did: it was half the reason everyone in Cerberus called him the 'living embodiment of Cerberus', as well as, more pejoratively by Cerberus and its enemies, the Illusive Man's attack dog.

Leng also had the potential to be an incredibly intelligent special forces operative, but squandered it. Randall had done his research on Leng: the man had a disturbing past, but one that demonstrated the potential for Leng to be a deadly warrior. He joined the Systems Alliance Marine Corps on November 14, 2172 when he was 16, although he had faked his credentials at the time (military enlistment age for the Alliance was 18). He was, at some point, assigned to a patrol and reconnaissance mission in the Terminus Systems within the same year, where he racked up 37 confirmed kills on batarian slavers, and participated in sixteen seperate raids on slaver outposts.

He was promoted to Sergeant in 2173, and was given command of a patrol and reconnaissance mission into the Exodus cluster. There, he and his men intercepted and stopped a batarian slaver ship, the BRS  _Blessed_. The Alliance discovered the ship belonged to the batarian Slaver Corps, confirming the existence of the Hegemony's secret navy program, but were forced to cover it up when it was discovered, and latter admitted, by Sergeant Leng that he had torn medals from the bodies of dead soldiers and kept them as trophies, going as far as to keep an eyeball cut from a dead batarian corpse to hang around his neck. However, in light of his exemplary service record, the Alliance brass simply demoted him to Corporal and reassigned him to Entiyon, where he would remain until 2174, when batarian slavers, using hired Blood Pack mercenaries, attacked the colony in an attempt to enslave them.

Leng, wasting no time, left his squad behind and engaged the mercenaries alone, single-handedly slaughtering them all, before taking one of their shuttles, loading it full of explosives, and then flying it directly into the batarian slaver ship in orbit. Afterwards, he boarded the ship, killed the crew, and then flew the ship into a nearby moon, destroying it. While the Alliance military found his actions reckless and irresponsible, as well as needlessly endangering the lives of civilians on Entiyon's surface, public opinion of Leng after the incident pressured them to reward Leng: as a result, he was given the Medal of Valor for actions committed 'beyond the call of duty' the Raid on Entiyon. For two years, Leng was a hero, and he was subsequently promoted to Lieutenant. In the same year, he was offered a place at the Interplanetary Combatives Academy, specifically as part of the N Special Forces Program. Leng accepted.

In 2175, Leng, now an N5, was attached to a unit of fellow N5s deploying with two N7s as part of a training exercise: these two N7s, Captain Alec Ryder and First Lieutenant Susan Rizzi, took the group on a classified mission into the Kite's Nest, with the directive to neutralize a batarian weapons manufacturing facility located by the SIA. The operation, codenamed Operation: BUZZARD, was done in top secret. Out of the eight N5s deployed, two were injured and one killed by a sticky grenade. Leng racked up eighteen confirmed kills, more than any of the other N5s present. However, Leng was caught by Ryder torturing a batarian officer. When confronted about it, Leng apparently showed 'no remorse, but plenty of glee' at his actions. The facility was destroyed, but Ryder advised against Leng becoming N6, arguing for a dishonorable discharge from the N program. Whilst considered, this suggestion was disregarded after Ryder was found to have illegally experimented with AI and was himself dishonorably discharged. Rizzi, who had not been told of Leng's actions during the raid, was asked to testify: she supported Leng's promotion, and was promoted to N6. After six more similar deployments, he was given full N7 status in 2176.

Then the batarians attacked Elysium, and the Lion had his hour. With Shepard now the Alliance's new champion, they had no reason to defend Leng any longer. Leng was given fewer missions, and after a reckless rampage during the Battle of the Dhopris System in the Skyllian Blitz where he massacred forty-two batarian soldiers (although eye witness accounts claimed they were unarmed and had surrendered), he was reassigned as a military attache' to the Citadel, temporarily replacing Ryder until another N7 could replace him.

The final straw occurred in May, 2177. Angry and bitter, Leng murdered the krogan ambassador to the Citadel in cold blood, who had been there to discuss land rights with the Council. Hiding his corpse, Leng was then confronted by his commanding officer, who he then decapitated and hid in his apartment's bathroom, later claiming during his trial that he was 'threatening to ruin his career.' While drunk, he later kidnapped and raped an asari working for the Consort, before slitting her throat and dumping her in the Presidium lake. Leng, before he could carry out his plan to assassinate Ambassador Anita Goyle (the human ambassador to the Citadel prior to Udina), followed by the Council, C-Sec finally caught on to his actions and confronted him. When he resisted arrest, a Special Response Unit was called in. When this too failed, the Alliance discreetly deployed Susan Rizzi.

Due to miscommunication from within, the Council dispatched a Spectre to arrest Leng, and both the spectre and Rizzi worked together to eventually pacify Leng and arrest him. The entire incident looked bad on the Alliance's reputation, and they were willing to do anything to get rid of Leng. Backroom talks were held and, for whatever reason, the Council and the Alliance agreed to let the event slide, with the provision that the Alliance publically disavow Leng, label him as a traitor and terrorist, strip him of his ranks and titles, dishonorably discharge him and have him court-marshalled and given a life sentence: all of these were met, with even Admiral Garrong himself disavowing Leng.

And now here he was. The Illusive Man had taken notice of Leng's actions, and had been impressed: not by his obvious xenophobic attitude, but by the fact that Leng had taken down a krogan with nothing but a knife, managed to neutralize a C-Sec tactical squad by himself and that his actions were enough that it took a spectre and an N7  _working together_ to stop him. All of these convinced the Illusive Man that Leng was the man he needed, and Cerberus broke him out of prison, later recruiting him into their ranks.

Looking at him now, Randall could tell that Leng was both the same man he was now, and completely different at the same time. The man was now packed with cybernetics, much like Randall himself, courtesy of Cerberus. His eyes were covered by two black plates, he wore black light armor, wielded a sword as his primary weapon of choice, and had all the features and capabilities of a Cerberus phantom, just with special forces experience as well as command of his own personal squad of elite phantoms he had handpicked himself.

Randall couldn't believe this creature, this  _Leng_ , was the same person whose service record he read. Sure, he was hardly a saint then, but he was at least smart about it back then: nowadays, with the Illusive Man practically giving him the leeway to do as he wants, Leng was more ruthless than ever. He was hardly cunning, but to say that, and then call him stupid and reckless, was a tautology: one Randall knew Leng was no stranger to.

He finally turned to Leng, turning off his omni-tool and standing up, holstering his rifle as he did, "You heard Captain Banes. We will move when ordered to by Petrovsky. Not before and not after the fact. You'd be smart to use this time wisely."

Leng scoffed, whipping out his specialized ninjato, slashing it through the air in wide arcs, relishing in the whooshing sound it made as it swiped through the air, slicing up a target that wasn't there. Sheathing it, he turned to Randall and ran a hand through his raven black hair, curling it back behind his ears, "And how do you suggest we use this time, Ezno? We are stuck here until Petrovsky has the balls to commit us. That could take days, perhaps weeks. What we need to do is go on the offensive. Fight fire with fire. If we can take Shepard off balance and strike pre-emptively, we can push them back."

Randall nodded, "I couldn't agree more. No doubt the General sees it your way as well, Leng. But we will not make any sort of move like that until we're ordered to. So stay put and await orders."

A grin almost graced the assassin's lips, tugging at the corners, "Such a yes man you are, Ezno. Waiting for orders like a good little dog."

Randall just shook his head in mild amusement, picking up his Talon heavy pistol and holstering it at his hip, "I hope you mean that unironically, Leng. We both know you would do anything to please the Illusive Man. Hardly a fault, but not something to gloat over. You are as much subject to the command chain as I am. So please, if you must insult, think smarter and be better or stick to your sword and leave the witty remarks to me."

That seemed to strike a cord within Leng, which Randall found was all too easy to accomplish, "Watch those lips carefully, Ezno. I might just give you a permanent smile."

Randall didn't give Leng the satisfaction of an answer or reaction, simply turning his back to the assassin, pretending he wasn't there as he called out to a nearby centurion guarding the doorway opposite the room, "You, Captain. Come over here."

The centurion did not hesitate as he approached Randall at a hurried pace, quickly arriving and offering a sharp salute. He spoke, voice electronic and of a deep monotone, the same one all Cerberus soldiers who bore the SPARTAN armor seemed to have, "My men are awaiting your orders, sir. B Company stands at your behest."

Randall nodded, "That's excellent. I want you and your men to form up in the middle of this room right now. We might get our orders at any moment, and I want to be ready to move as soon as we get them. Get to it, centurion."

"Yes sir!" the commander replied, turning almost robotically as he shouted orders of his comm, getting his company formed up in the middle of the barracks.

He turned to see Leng typing at his omni-tool. Randall chose to ignore his actions, simply bringing up his omni-tool to make sure all settings and programs were ready to be used at a moment's notice. He didn't even turn when he heard B company file into the training room, eighty or so men setting up in a typical box formation, perfect lines and weapons holstered on their backs, standing rigidly straight like any other Alliance marine had been drilled to do. None of this was acknowledged as he focused on preparing himself for the upcoming mission.

Then it finally came. Orders.

Randall's omni-tool began to beep as he was hailed by Petrovsky over a secure comm link. The major didn't hesitate in responding to the General's call, immediately answering it as Petrovsky's voice came over the loud speaker, "Major Ezno, these are your orders. Take B Company and proceed to the Zeta District to assist E Company. They are currently pinned fighting Shepard and his men, but are managing to hold. Further reinforcement may be necessary to maintain this. Hold them there until further orders. I will also be directing the 5th and 22nd Mechanized Infantry Battalions to that location to hit them in the rear, but they will not arrive for sometime: it is up to you to hold the line, gentleman."

Randall nodded, glad to finally have orders, "Understood, General. We will stop Shepard."

"Excellent. You have your orders. Petrovsky out."

Randall switched off his omni-tool, nodding to Leng. The assassin, answering with nothing but a smirk, quickly leapt off the box he had been crouched on and followed Randall as they made their way to the front of the room. The entirety of B Company was assembled: assault troopers, centurions, guardians, combat engineers, nemesi, dragoons, phantoms...they even had an Atlas with them, although that was waiting outside. Randall turned to the centurion normally in command of the company, nodding to him, "We will be leaving the Atlas behind: we need mobility, and that mech will only slow us down. The rest of your men will follow behind us. Our orders are to link up with E Company in the Rubicon quadrant to help them repel Shepard and his men," with that said, he reached behind his back and drew his rifle, tinting his visor with a simple command on his omni-tool, "Move out! We are oscar mike, troopers!"

Once outside, Randall kicked off into a light jog. Leng was beside him, sword sheathed on his back and currently wielding no weapon, simply keeping up pace with Randall. The rest of the company formed up behind them, centurion commander in the lead, also jogging at a light pace. They jogged past the Atlas attached to B Company, currently sitting in a fetal position with its cockpit open and the mech itself inactive, its pilot given a rifle and assigned as the usual assault trooper. They would have taken a kodiak shuttle, but the amount required would have forced Farland to redirect some from his quadrant to help fight the UGC, but he currently needed them for Operation: Darksword. So, as it was, they were forced to jog. And what a long jog it would be.

Their journey was punctuated by long sweeping streets, flights upon flight of stairs, numerous corners and even a cargo elevator. Overall, just leaving the Dyuko District took a long time, but they eventually managed it: entering the Pefashi district, Randall and his company had officially arrived in the Rubicon quadrant. It was simply a two kilometer jog through a couple of narrow streets to the Zeta District, luckily approaching from behind E Company, and not from in front: otherwise, they would be forced to fight Shepard in the open, and everyone in Cerberus knew that was a disaster waiting to happen.

Randall quickly ordered two squads to be sent in ahead of the main group, sweeping the area for hostiles and making sure they weren't ambushed. With reports of UGC forces coming from all over the Zeta and Felmuk districts, he didn't want to run the risk of running into them blindly. As such, with two squads moving ahead of them and the rest of the company behind, they would be able to deal with an ambush from any of the two directions.

But even then, Randall couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being trailed and watched.

Unable to get rid of it, he stopped in his tracks, holding up a fist and shouting for them to halt.

They did as ordered and without question. Leng, however, did so more vocally. He turned on Randall, frowning at him in irritation, "We are nowhere near Zeta, Ezno. We must keep moving or E Company will be overwhelmed."

_Oh please...you only want to kill Shepard, that's all you're interested in._

He shook his head, raising his rifle, "Something isn't right. We're being watched."

Leng took that more seriously, beginning to look around himself. After a few more moments of silence however, he turned to Randall, a sneer on his lips, "There's nothing here, Ezno. I think you're losing it. Not surprising for an old man such as yourself."

"Silence," he hissed, turning away from the assassin and scanning the nearby houses and apartment buildings for any sign of movement. He found none: not a single barrel or laser sight, not even a flicker of movement or the sound of communications or orders being whispered. After a moment, he lowered his rifle and turned back to Leng, ready to order the company forward again.

But Randall had made the mistake of not checking the rooftops.

Like a crack of lightning, a round smashed into the side of the centurion commander's helmet, blood spraying over Randall's visor and obscuring his vision before he heard the body slump to the ground. He rose a gauntlet to wipe the blood away, hearing gunfire erupt from all corners of the street as battle began in earnest. Another crack, and Randall instinctively ducked, only for the telltale sound of an energy field being formed to block the round, likely Leng protecting himself.

With the last of the blood coating his visor wiped away, he stood up, noticing that six other assault troopers had fallen, with one nemesi riddled with bullets and dying, while a combat engineer rolled over the ground, most of his left leg shredded and outright missing.

"Form up!" Randall spat, raising his rifle, "Form up on me!"

Leng repeated the orders, still holding up his barrier and repelling any rounds coming his way.

His company did as ordered, with a few more falling dead before they were able to do so.

Then he heard it. A roar of anger that made up a war cry.

From both sides of the street, they descended: humans, turians, salarians, batarians, asari and krogan: all dressed, head to toe, in full body armor, their own visors tinted but yelling all the same. They rapelled down the sides of the buildings, ropes flung from the side and lowered to the ground, tightened at the top by the snipers supporting them. The krogan, knowing the rope wouldn't support their weight, simply jumped from the rooftops, landing with a crash and a roar of vehemence. The soldiers repelling down held their assault rifles and SMGs in one hand, pouring fire into the enemy company as they descended, their aim either precise or a sort of 'spray and pray' movement. Either way, as they descended from sides of the street, his men found themselves only able to fire back.

Randall quickly took command, dispatching his guardians to the flank, four to each side, to block the incoming fire: he had the dragoons using their biotics to take out as many of the rappellers as possible, while he set the nemesi to work combating the enemy sharpshooters. The rest took cover behind the guardians and returned fire.

This new tactic worked, but to minimal effect. They managed to kill one or two of the soldiers before they touched the ground, bodies falling from the rope and landing with a thud. The nemesi were far more effective however, with sniper after sniper falling to the timed and precise shots of his own, who were equipped with cloaks while theirs weren't. His dragoons, rolling with biotic energy, tossed those who made ground around like ragdolls, using an array of warps, biotic whips and pulls to wreak havoc, managing to kill half a dozen before they made contact. But the soldiers had biotics of their own, and pretty quickly, two of his dragoons, along with several of his troopers, were lifted into the air by a singularity, before unceremoniously being vaporized as a warp impacted it, causing it to explode and kill those caught in its gravity well.

Randall knew it was too late to stop the enemy soldiers from reaching their lines, and he quickly ordered his men to set up a picket line to gun down the advancing troopers. Still, B company had taken quite a few casualties, including their commanding officer, which wasn't a good start.

One turian closed in, yelling as he charged with his shotgun, blasting round after round into an assault trooper opposite him, blowing chunks off the trooper before finally embedding a slug into his face, killing him. That turian was the first to breach their line, but his victory was short lived as Leng emerged from cloak, impaling his sword up to the hilt through the turian's chest, piercing his heart and killing him instantly. The turian's mandibles creased into an 'O' expression before Leng, without a modicum of respect for his foe, kicked the turian's corpse off his blade, now covered in blue blood. Leng grinned wickedly at Randall before activating his cloak again, dashing off towards the approaching soldiers, two phantoms at his flank.

Randall quickly approached the dead turian, kneeling down and flipping his corpse over, hoping to get fresh ammo off of him. What he found was the familiar mark of an insignia, one he recognized almost immediately. It was painted, with a red T standing in the middle of a white circle. The 'T' however was double-pronged, with one extra horizontal line below it, while another line hovered above it. The logo was one that had plagued Cerberus for months on end.

_Not UGC. These are Talons. Possibly coordinating with the UGC assault or simply taking advantage of the situation?_

Either way, it confirmed this ambush was of Talon construction, not UGC. That was good.

_Means the UGC haven't caught on to what we're up to._

Taking what he needed, he stood up and quickly inspected their picket line: it was holding firm, with the number of casualties shortening significantly. One of his nemesi were dead, likely from a retaliating sniper shot, but the remaining six were holding firm and had dispatched the rest of the enemy on the rooftops. All that was left was the ones on the ground.

Taking aim with his rifle, he fired into a charging krogan, the fury in his eyes clearing showing he was in a blood rage. Like any krogan afflicted with his temporarily blood lust, the krogan barely flinched as the harrier rounds struck him head on, his shields flickering as a hail of gunfire tore into him. Bloodied and battered, he still persisted, eventually reaching their line.

He bashed into one guardian, roaring angrily. Grabbing the top, he yanked it from the guardian's fingers, before roughly bringing it back and using it to bash the guardian. The guardian in question fell to the side, firing into the krogan's side with his pistol. Orange blood spurted from his gut, but this only made the Talon angrier, and he quickly set to brutally smashing the guardian's face in with the shield, painting the tip with brains and viscera.

The rest of the guardians, with help from the troopers behind them, emptied everything they had into the krogan, finally putting him down as his regenerative abilities were overwhelmed. He collapsed to the ground, this time laughing as he coughed up his blood. Randall frowned, realizing too late the krogan had primed a grenade on his hip. Reaching down he grabbed the guardian's shield, falling backwards onto the ground and holding the shield tight to his chest as the grenade detonated.

Saved from the blast, Randall tossed the bloodied shield away and stood up, noting the remains of eight assault troopers, another centurion and a second guardian. With their line breaking, Randall ordered six more guardians to the front, hoping to hold the rest of the Talon assault off. After all, they would run out of men eventually.

The staccato beats of dozens of rifles, shotguns, SMGs, pistols and sniper rifles went off, accentuated by the ocassional thump of a M-100 Spiculum grenade launcher or screech of a M-560 Hydra missile launcher. One by one, Talon bodies hit the ground, torn to shreds by the combined Cerberus firepower. What had started off as a successful ambush quickly degenerated into a slaughter, with the Talon forces beginning to waver. More Cerberus soldiers fell, but their casualties were nowhere near as great as they had started out. Blood pulled along the ground, explosions littered the landscape...the battle waged on.

His own rifle joined the symphony, picking out targets and scoring headshot after headshot, making sure to conserve his ammo and making every last bullet count. Slowly, but steadily, they were winning: the Talons would soon be forced to withdraw or risk a suicidal last attempt to kill as many Cerberus troopers as possible. Either way, Randall's B company would be the victor.

Leng appeared before three Talon rebels, one of them human and two others being salarians, one of the latter dragging away the body of his injured turian comrade, who gripped what was left of his shoulder, now reduced to a bloody stump. The four of them beat feet, steadily retreating as they fired upon their Cerberus enemies. Leng's sudden appearance from cloak caused them to immediately turn to attack their new target, two shotguns and an asssault rifle immediately firing into the assassin, followed quickly by the injured Talon's pistol joining the attack.

Leng simply raised one hand, activating his augmented palm-based kinetic barrier and deflecting the shots with calm ease. Waiting for them to reload, Leng then dropped his shield and charged. The human dropped his rifle and activated his omni-blade, but was too late as Leng descended upon him, slashing downwards with his blade. The sword cleanly decapitated the human, his head rolling along the ground with a thud. Kicking the body aside, Leng immediately turned and kicked the raised shotgun of one of the salarians away from him, using his momentum to drive his ninjato through the salarian's right eye and out the other side. He immediately ceased moving, shotgun dropping from his hands. A shotgun blast slammed into Leng's shields, causing the assassin to stagger back for a moment, before regaining his balance and yanking the sword from the salarian's skull, causing his corpse to simply drop. The turian opened fire with his pistol as well, and together they managed to down Leng's barriers.

The assassin was faster however, spinning and raising his augment barrier with one hand, while using his other to key an omni-tool overload. The combined attack caused their weapons to jam up, as well as draining their barriers. Angry, Leng charged forward, ducking under the desperate pistol whip of the salarian, lashing out with his sword and slashing the salarian's stomach. Even amongst all that armor, the sword pierced through like it was nothing, causing the salarian to cough and sputter, green blood erupting from his lips in driplets. His entrails spilled from his gut, and he fell forward, holding onto his intestines as he died painfully and slowly. Nobody to hold him up, the injured turian fell to the ground, rolling over to empty his entire clip into Leng's body.

By this time, the assassin's barriers had recharged, and the shots were merely absorbed. Turning to the wounded turian, he raised his sword one final time and slammed it into the turian's face, impaling him through the mouth. Choking sounds were heard, followed by twitching of the limbs, the turian dropping his weapon. And finally, after a moment, all movement ceased: satisfied, Leng removed his sword, wiping the mixture of red, blue and green blood onto the dead Talon's armor, before recloaking and moving off to kill more of the rebels, grinning to himself the whole time.

Randall just rolled his eyes, pouring fire into another charging Talon, this one an asari, and putting her down, signalling his combat engineers to set up sentry guns. He ducked, reloading his rifle with a quick slap and snap, before darting back up, taking aim and opening fire again, becoming one with the repetitious beat of death and lead.

The Talons were withering, and it wouldn't be long before they retreated. Well over a dozen were killed by this point, while the Cerberus casualties were only getting lighter and lighter now that they were organized and fighting back. Instead of pushing forward, the Talons were falling back, dragging whatever wounded comrades they could with them, all while Leng and his phantoms outflanked and killed them from within, ensuring that there was no survivors.

A ruthless, and methodical, butchery.

Then, suddenly, the combat engineer on his right, crouching and using his omni-tool to set up his sentry gun, was suddenly wrapped in a biotic aura, pulling him forward and away from the gun he was setting up. Randall frowned, looking up to watch as the engineer was then dropped, flopping and rolling across the ground like a fish out of water. Before he could stand up, a turian in nothing but a robe and a hood appeared, roughly wrapping their hands around his head and snapping it, before spinning around, reaching out with her hand. It glowed with biotic fury, and the warp that lashed out quickly dealt with the turret his engineer had been setting up.

He turned with his rifle, ordering three troopers to assist him, and opened fire on him. He caught on quickly, using the same hand to raise a biotic barrier, doing so with a mere flick of the wrist. Their shots pinged harmlessly off of it, and he raised his own pistol to deal three, quick headshots that killed Randall's trio immediately. The turian stalked forward, hooded eyes fixed entirely on Randall now.

He fired a few more rounds, but quickly realized it was futile effort. He reached down to his belt to grab a grenade, but found himself knocked to the ground instantly as he was biotically pushed away. He quickly attempted to regain his balance, finding the turian ontop of him in an instant. He lowered his pistol at him, but Randall was faster, knocking aside the weapon with a slap and darting out with a kick to one of his legs.

The turian staggered, giving Randall enough time to leap to his feet, dropping his rifle. Unarmed and without enough time to draw his pistol, he assumed a martial arts posture, hands raised in tight fists and eyes fixed entirely on the turian before him.

The turian seemed merely annoyed at the kick, quickly recovering and turning to the Cerberus operative before him. A slight click of the mandibles was heard over the gunfire of his men, Randall filtering the rest of the battle out as he focused on his one Talon merc. He too was focused entirely on him. Seeing his raised hands, the turian took that as a challenge, holstering their own pistol.

This surprised Randall.  _Foolish, but brave. I have cybernetics, he doesn't. This fight will inevitably turn in my favour._

The turian raised their own fists, doing so without a word and in complete silence. Not so much as a grunt, laugh or growl. Just silently waiting, seeing what he'd do.

Randall made the first move, launching a series of fake strikes at his face. The turian strafed them, responding with an uppercut. Randall saw that coming however, tucking his belly inwards as he moved back. Once the turian had pulled his arm back, he moved back in with his own, incredibly fast strike to the chest. The turian, unable to counter the move, was struck head on. Winded, Randall took the chance to deliver one quick blow to the head. The turian was ready however and, despite being winded, quickly parried the blow, before delivering one of his own to Randall's face, impacting the area around his left eye.

Pain flashed up around Randall's eye, lashing out with a quick roundhouse punch. The turian ducked under this, dealing three quick punches to the belly, before crouching, spinning and sweeping at his legs, attempting to footsweep him.

He wasn't having it. Despite the three rapid punches, he mustered the energy to see past the pain and simply jumped over the footsweep. Vulnerable and exposed, he was able to raise a foot and kick the turian in the back of the head. He was thrown back onto the ground, the Talon only managing to forestall their fall by reaching out with their hands at the last minute and stopping their collapse.

Quicker than any normal human, Randall reached out and grabbed him by the robe, pulling him up and off the ground, before twisting around, raising him up into the air in one arm and roughly slamming them back into the deck with a loud bang. The turian cried out in pain, arm pinned between their body and the ground. It didn't break anything however, allowing the turian to roll away as Randall delivered what should have been a crushing blow to the head, his fist instead impacting the ground, causing pain to flare up his entire arm before his cybernetics could compensate.

He winced, pulling his arm back, looking up to see the turian leaping to their feet, toes raising him up. However, in that one movement, the turian's hood had flung back, revealing his face...

...Randall was surprised to find the turian was female, a large red marking down the center of her face as her colonial facepaint.

_Well...what a surprise._

"Nyreen Kandros," he spoke, lips creased, "Does the Talon general usually risk themselves in battle like this?"

The turian was quick to respond, cocking her head in amusement, " _Real_ generals do, I guess. I don't believe we've met. You're not like the other Cerberus soldiers I've fought. Most die very quickly...guess those augmentations don't mean much."

Randall smiled, "They don't: it's what you do with them that matters. I am Major Randall Ezno, armourer aboard the  _Deliverance._ "

Nyreen's eyes glowed blue, followed quickly by the rest of her body, "Well, Randall Ezno...I would politely ask you to get off this station. These people are under my protection."

Randall shook his head, "They are under Petrovsky's protection...from you. You are not the hero here, Miss Kandros. You cannot win."

He saw the biotic blast coming. He quickly rolled to his right, dodging the torrent of dark energy that cascaded past him. A cold wave washed over him briefly as he avoided, Randall quickly arriving on his feet and ready to fight the turian once more.

She leapt into the air, biotic energy formed in her fist. Randall watched as she descended, her fist becoming a glowing, dark energy gauntlet as she descended on him. Normally, she would have been too quick for anybody to counter: in the seconds it took for her to launch up and descend, a normal soldier would be dead before they could even look up.

But he wasn't a normal soldier.

His hand snapped up, grabbing the arm with the biotic fist in a tight vice. The turian cried out in pain from his grasp, and he quickly yanked it downwards, forcing her to one knee unless her arm was broken. His face was stripped of emotion, Randall simply forcing her further and further down...

...only for biotic energy to be blasted into his face as her other arm summoned enough to blow him backwards. He almost cried out as his face numbed from the dark energy, shaking his head to clear his blurred vision of the obscurity. His hand remained latched onto Nyreen's however, his cybernetics allowing him to resist reflexes despite being staggered. This time, he  _did_ cry out when he felt something sharp penetrate the skin in his arm, penetrating deep. This caused him to finally let go, falling to one knee and looking down to see what had impacted him.

A jagged blade, turian in origin, was jammed in his arm up to the hilt. He quickly grabbed it and yanked it out, admiring the design of it.  _A_ reslius tarn  _blade. This is the standard issue blade given to all members of the turian military. She has experience. Interesting._

Blood spurted out from his arm, pooling across his arm and quickly drenching him. He quickly used his omni-tool to apply medi-gel to the wound, knowing that his regenerative abilities would quickly deal with the wound in earnest. Hearing the approach of Nyreen's footsteps, he turned the blade in his hand, holding it by the blade, before twisting and tossing it at her.

She was quick: he respected that. Biotics flared within seconds, a flick of a talon allowing her to swat the approaching blade aside. But in the time it took for her to focus on tossing aside the blade, he managed to charge at her, closing the distance too quickly for even her reflexes. His arms wrapped around her torso, using his momentum to lift her into the air before slamming her back into the ground.

He moved in, preparing to straddle her: doing so would allow his cybernetics to dominate her, making it impossible for her to escape. But Nyreen wasn't having it: she lashed out with two quick strikes to his face, followed by her peeling her legs back and slamming them into his chest: turian females had a kick like that of a kangaroo, and her taloned feet didn't make that any better: they cut into his armor, the force of her twin kick literally sending him flying back, landing half a meter away from her.

Right next to his rifle.

_It's time to finish this._

Reaching out and grabbing the harrier by its grip, he rolled over, appearing in a crouch, rifle raised at Nyreen in an instant.

...she had  _also_ seen this coming, and she was waiting for him, her own pistol snapped out and ready. Her pistol was also turian build, a Pugio III heavy pistol. Built sometime after the Eden Prime War, the Pugio incorporated elements of the geth SMG's design, utilizing heavy firepower at a semi-automatic rate. It was deadly, packed a punch, and despite the recoil, could be deftly handled. And for someone like Nyreen, he had no doubt she was a crack shot.

So...it was a stand off. Both sides knew if they opened fire, they likely wouldn't survive it: both would die, neither would win. Besides...even if Nyreen chose to continue battling him in hand-to-hand, it was clear she couldn't win: he had more stamina, more pain resistance, more speed, strength...

The gunfire began to die down...it was then that Randall knew his men were mopping up the remainders of her men.

He nodded to her, "You best be leaving, Nyreen Kandros. The battle is nearly over, and your men are in retreat."

"Indeed," Nyreen narrowed her own eyes at him, finger twitching at the trigger of her pistol, "But how do I know you won't just shoot me in the back?"

"Let's see," Randall poised, lowering his rifle and holstering it. He quickly stood up, hands held up in a sign of trust. This confused Nyreen for a moment, before she quickly holstered her own pistol. Still confused as to why Randall hadn't fired yet, she began to back away, starting off in a slow walk before quickly speeding up. Eventually, she darted down the street towards the rooftop, Randall keeping his part of the deal and not lifting a single hand to stop her.

_Petrovsky will have my head, but he'll understand. There will other chances to stop Nyreen Kandros. After all, she is not our priority anymore._

A few more moments passed before the Talons finally retreated, Nyreen likely having ordered a withdrawal. What few men were left, less than six, quickly followed their turian general back into an alleyway, dropping smoke grenades to ensure they wouldn't be immediately followed. And neither would they.

Leng appeared beside him, his sword still out and in his hand, soaked with blood, "I say we pursue them. Kill the rest of them."

"Negative," was Randall's reply, "They've been defeated. We push on to our objective. Unless of course...you're more interested in killing retreating rebels than Shepard?" The question was clearly aimed at the assassin, who seemed to pause for a moment to contemplate the order.

After a moment, his decision was made. Sheathing his sword, he turned to Randall and nodded, before breaking into a jog. Randall turned to what was left of his company...at least fifty or so men. Nodding to them, he motioned for them to move forward, unholstering his rifle once more as the group pressed on to E Company's position.

_Nyreen Kandros will have her day. But it will not be today. Today, we stop Shepard._

He looked down at his left arm, feeling a dull warmth filling him up as the medi-gel acellerated his healing process. But he did not fail to remember what had created that wound in the first place.

_...she was a formidable foe. She probably could have killed me if she wanted._

The thought finally made him smile.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1636 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of Sahrabarik._

_Captain Armistan Banes, Flight Lieutenant Elena Flores._

Banes, having now seen the carnage for himself, knew Petrovsky was right.

He stood in the cockpit of the  _Deliverance_ , hands clasped behind his back and looking over the battle. His pilot, Elena Flores, was at the helm, fingers pulling off some elaborate dance as they flicked gracefully across the orange screens before her, going through numerous status reports with the perfect simultaneous operation of the ship. She was no Jeff Moreau, but Elena Flores was handpicked by the Illusive Man because she was the best in Cerberus: an artist behind the controls, a lover of all things aircraft...she had been perfect in filling the role of his pilot. And with EVA's help, she was almost on par with the best pilot himself.

Elena suddenly made a blowing sound, Banes glancing at her to see her blowing a lock of hair that had fallen into her face. She blew at it again, finding it still refused to stop obstructing her vision. With an annoyed sigh, she moved a hand up and physically removed it and placed it behind one ear, her movement lethargic and irritated: almost as if the simple action had greatly inconvenienced her.

The  _Deliverance_ had only just left dock, moving upon Petrovsky's given objectives: their primary objective was to eliminate the  _Normandy_ once and for all, while reinforcing First Fleet and helping them push back the UGC fleet if possible was strictly a secondary objective: the General had been  _very_ clear on that much. As it was, he had ordered EVA and Chief Engineer Tyrone Rawlings to immediately engage the IES system, hiding them from the UGC's sensor arrays: not even the geth ships would find them.

The  _Deliverance_ 's last confrontation with the  _Normandy_ was still stuck in the minds of the entire crew. During the Citadel Siege, the  _Deliverance_ had been deployed against them for the first time, although during that time, it was under the command of Kai Leng: how times changed. Regardless, Leng had been too cocky: he thought that having the same firepower and capabilities as the  _Normandy_ made them equal, but he had failed to take into account the symbiosis that existed between pilot and AI. While EVA and Elena worked fairly well together, EVA was a shackled AI: she was nowhere near as flexible as EDI. As a result, the  _Normandy_ 's victory during that engagement was inevitable.

Banes tightened his jaw reflexively, narrowing his eyes.  _This time, we won't make the same mistake. We won't offer any surrender. We won't even give them time to fight back. By the time they know we're coming, they'll be close to destruction. And without the Normandy_ ,  _Shepard is nothing. Just another man with a rifle._

The  _Deliverance_ quickly arrived around the other side of Omega, where the battle was taking place. It was then that Banes saw the full extent of the situation.

Despite the cannons giving the Fleet time to regroup and set up proper formations, they were still getting decimated. Backed against the station and with no room to maneveur, the UGC ships were running-and-gunning. The geth ships swept across the Cerberus forward lines, pounding them with hot plasma bolts, lighting up the area around with them with brillant purple and blue glows before making impact, Cerberus corvettes and frigates almost immediately bursting apart. The destroyers and cruisers were holding up much longer, but the rachni ships were making short work of them too, getting up close while decimating them with their own, powerful particle and laser weapons. The  _Elbrus_ was long since destroyed, along with the entirety of fleet's carriers. With no fighter coverage, the UGC fighter squadrons had free reign to harass and destroy enemy ships at their own free volition, with nothing but the ship's individual anti-fighter GARDIAN batteries to defend themselves.

It was very clear that no matter what the  _Deliverance_ did, it wouldn't be enough to save their naval forces.

_But they still have to take the station. The war is far from over yet._

Without turning, he gave his first order of the battle, "Flank speed, Flores. Get us over there."

"Yes sir," Elena replied, immediately increasing the ship's speed to full military thrust, causing the ship to move at an exceedingly faster pace than it had been. Within moments, the battle that had seemed so far away was now right infront of them, the  _Deliverance_ steering clear of UGC cannon fire, MAC rounds, GARDIAN rockets/lasers and plasma being exchanged by both sides, a dance of light lighting up the space like a deathly disco. An explosion flashed to the right, a rachni cruiser slicing up a Cerberus heavy frigate, its heavy green beam cutting a long streak across the side of its hull. The wounded frigate's reactor quickly went critical, the resulting explosion rippling along its spine like a droplet in a puddle. The frigate burst apart like a watermelon, debris shooting in every direction. Elena swerved to starboard to avoid hitting the larger chunks, but a few pieces inevitably bounced off the ship's hull, doing no damage.

The IES must have been doing its job, as none of the UGC ships had locked onto them or taken any offensive action against them: a matter of fact, it was almost as if the  _Deliverance_ wasn't even there.

A geth battleship appeared directly ahead, its massive hulk gliding slowly across space, its dark frame almost blending in with the space around it so much as to look like a massive area where stars simply weren't present. Banes looked at the massive warship, observing its gigantic batteries as they rippled with energy, dishing out a constant stream of plasma bolts at its targets, decimating everything it fired at. It was just one of two of the colossal juggernauts, and Banes wondered whether First Fleet would have an easier time if it wasn't eliminated from the playing field...

...he decided it was worth a try, if only to dish out equal amounts of pain to the UGC in their one sided assault.

"EVA, deploy the main gun," Banes ordered, "Flores, give us a firing solution on that geth battleship. Let's flex our muscles. The  _Deliverance_ could do with some target practice."

"Understood, captain," EVA replied, following up his orders by deploying the thanix cannon. Flores quickly locked onto the ship's center mass, ensuring their shot would cause as much damage as possible.

"Target locked. Firing solution calculated, sir," Flores replied almost robotically, sighing heavily as she swiped away an empty holographic screen, causing it to evaporate, "EVA's deployed the cannon and its fully charged and ready."

"Fire," Banes stated flatly.

A hurricane of blue, cobalt light erupted from the  _Deliverance_ 's bow like an angry tornado of molten metal, a blue lance spreading from the ship to instantly cross the thousands of kilometers between them and the battleship to connect with its hull, penetrating its kinetic barriers and punching into its heavily armoured side. Banes marvelled at the sight, finding himself shocked by the raw power unleashed from the thanix's hungry maw, the ship devouring armor and hull like a starved dog. It ate through it in seconds, piercing the battleship's outer side before finally dissipating. The lance evaporated, and EVA retracted the cannons to allow them to recharge. But the ship had done its work.

He heard Flores chuckle slightly as they watched the battleship begin to break up. What had been an unstoppable demolisher of firepower had been destroyed by a single shot to the center by a thanix cannon, explosions rippling along its side as it broke apart, entire sections detaching from the main bulk with enormous explosions. Flores gave the ship a wide berth, Banes thankful for it when he watched the battleship explode in a final, cascading blast, the ship's rear section floating away, the twisted and mangled bow continuing to tear itself apart with smaller blasts.

"We shall inform the Illusive Man that the  _Deliverance_ 's thanix cannon was not a waste of investment money," Banes declared, smiling a little himself at the devastation caused by the single thanix blast.  _Imagine what we could do with an entire fleet equipped with these...the UGC would be helpless to stop us._

"That we shall, sir," Flores complimented, "Damn fine ship we have here. This cannon just makes it all the more worth while."

Banes, quickly moving on from their brief victory, turned to EVA's interface, "Run a scan, EVA. Find us the  _Normandy._  No doubt we'll have at least gained their attention with our little show of power. They won't be able to resist meeting us in battle again."

"Running a scan now," EVA announced, "This could take several minutes, captain. If I find them, I will relay it to Miss Flores. However, it is likely the  _Normandy_ currently has their own IES engaged. Finding them will be extremely difficult."

Banes shook his head, "I don't care how long it takes or how you do it, EVA. We have our orders: destroy the  _Normandy._ Now find me that goddamn ship. I don't want excuses, I want results."

A few more seconds, followed by a quick response, "Understood, captain."

_Bloody AI thinks we give it intelligent and that gives it the right to talk back. Even shackled, it's a pain in my ass._

Several minutes passed as the battle progressed: it was quickly becoming evident that First Fleet wasn't going to make it. They were down to just over fifty ships at this point: most of them were cruisers that were already damaged, and the most powerful capital ship still active that he could find was the heavily damaged light cruiser CAW  _Green Tree,_  which was shown to be venting atmosphere on all decks including engineering and most of its weapon systems were either gone, disabled and unable to be deployed. Just seconds later, the  _Green Tree_ erupted into rapidly extinguished fire as it was finally destroyed by a quarian frigate. Outflanked on all sides and caught in a brutal crossfire, Banes decided to disregard their secondary objective as simply infeasible.

_The Illusive Man will send reinforcements...he'll have to. He won't risk losing Omega, and he knows Petrovsky can't afford to allow them to have naval supremacy. He'll have to break their stranglehold or we'll inevitably lose the station._

With First Fleet doomed, the  _Deliverance_ was focused completely on locating its arch nemesis and sister ship. EVA's scans took some time...several minutes in fact. Banes was beginning to wonder if they would ever find the  _Normandy_ , but just when it seemed they wouldn't...

"Captain, I have found the  _Normandy_ ," EVA declared, immediately grabbing Banes' attention, "They recently disengaged their IES system. It is unknown why, but it could be that they need to discharge excess heat from their central fusion plant. Heat signatures show that engines have slowed and they are holding in a stationary orbit behind the UGC ships, nearest the asteroid belt. Weapons are online, but their thanix is undeployed and GARDIANs are powered down."

Banes frowned, turning to look back at the battle.  _Why would the Normandy simply sit there? Sure, they need to discharge heat from their core or the IES will overheat their reactor, but they could still at least have some defenses in place: they're vulnerable just sitting there._

He inhaled, quickly coming to an epiphany.  _They know we're here. Our thanix attack must have alerted them. They want us to engage them in a one-on-one dogfight. A rematch._

Flores seemed to reach the same conclusion, "Mr. Moreau must want a rematch, sir. They want us to come out and meet them," there was a crack of knuckles, followed by a sigh, "Ah...at least I  _can_ do that. I've been itching for some payback for last time. Just give the word, sir."

Banes nodded, quickly turning back to address the holographic pawn that was the representation of EVA, "Is the thanix operational?"

"Negative," the AI replied, "It will require another full minute to recharge. Having our IES engaged simultaneously with the thanix firing caused a significant draw on our systems. Engineer Rawlings advises against doing it again until it is fully recharged. Doing so could cripple us as well as potentially overload the drive core."

Banes sighed, rubbing his forehead. He contemplated their next move, before finally nodding, crossing his arms, "Very well then. Flores, turn us around and bring us onto an intercept course with the  _Normandy_. EVA, ready the  _Chimera_ batteries. Give us a firing solution once we're in range. Hit them where it'll hurt."

"Understood, captain," EVA replied.

"Gliding like a bird, sir," Flores declared, a smile across her face now that they were finally meeting the stealth frigate in combat once again.

The  _Deliverance_  and the  _Normandy_ , both unofficially classified as ' _Normandy II-_ Class Heavy Stealth Frigates', had almost identical armaments, especially in regards to their  _Chimera_  autocannons. Known fully as the  _Chimera_ -class autocannon, the weapon was a ship-mounted assault gun designed to be used by fighters, interceptors, corvettes and frigates, and essentially any other aircraft with high speed and maneveurability. Always mounted on the bow due to its direct fire method, and more of a built-in heavy machine gun than a turret, the  _Chimera_ -class is of Alliance design, firing high velocity DU rounds that can rip through shields and melt armor.

And both the  _Deliverance_ and  _Normandy_ had six mounted on their bow, three on each side, aligned symmetrically in a triangle-like position. And unlike any of the ship's other weaponry, it required the least amount of power to utilize. Enough to buy them time for the thanix to fully recharge while giving Jeff Moreau the dogfight he so badly wanted.

It wasn't long before the  _Deliverance_ infiltrated the enemy fleet and made it past them, coming up on the  _Normandy_. Shepard's frigate was waiting near a rather large asteroid, but was out in the open enough to be vulnerable. Just like EVA stated, the ship was completely stationary, the normally intense blue glow from its engines absent. The only defenses it had online was its kinetic barriers, the ship simply sitting there and waiting for them.

"Firing solution acquired, sir," Flores declared, cracking her neck this time by rolling it around slightly. She straightened her uniform, before sitting up in her chair slightly, hands reached out and ready to move at full flank speed when given the order, " _Chimera_ -class batteries spinning and ready to fire. IES engaged and systems steady. Thanix at 82 percent charge."

Banes turned to EVA one final time, "Their sensors?"

The AI's response was just as quick, "They have not detected us."

With nothing else to be done or said, and Shepard's frigate simply sitting there, Banes gave a single, stern nod, "Bring us into stationary orbit. All batteries, fire."

Flores did as ordered, slowing their thrust until they were as unmoving as the  _Normandy_ , before tearing into them with their machine guns. Six, rapidly oscillating streams of deadly DU lead spat from the guns, their thunderous beat vibrating along the ship as they fired. Five bursts went off, followed by another three, all of them hitting the  _Normandy_ on her port side. Those rounds would be enough to at least drain the ship's shields, even with their cyclonic barriers active. Then, they could use the thanix on the ship, rendering its Silaris armouring useless.

The  _Normandy_ 's shields flared as each burst made its impact, ripples appearing all over its port hull as it was hit multiple times. Banes smiled at the aftermath, patting the back of Flores' chair at a job well done. The pilot seemed to congratulate herself, fist pumping the air.

EVA's next statement killed the moment as soon as it occurred, "Confirmed impacts. Final observation...shields remain intact."

Banes' head snapped to look at the AI, eyebrows furrowed, "What? That's not possible! We ran the calculations! Eight bursts from six  _Chimera_ -class autocannons would be sufficient to overwhelm the cyclonic barrier system! We even ran simulations! They all turned up conclusive!"

EVA's reply confused him further, "And we were correct. The simulations were correct."

"Then what the hell happened?" Flores responded this time, looking at the AI incredulously.

"It appears they've upgraded," EVA replied, taking a few moments to run further scans before continuing, "The  _Normandy_ shows signs of large-scale improvement in all areas."

Banes' frown only deepened, "When did this happen? There's no way Shepard could have upgraded the ship without us knowing about it!"

"Captain, we are receiving a transmission from the  _Normandy_. It is...Jeff Moreau," EVA declared.

Exhaling and inhaling, Banes stroked his chin. He realized that the battle might not be as easy as it initially seemed. It ultimately didn't matter how they had upgraded, but they had.

He wasn't having any of it, "Denied. Bring all GARDIAN batteries online and lock onto them. Disengage the IES and deploy the thanix. If we have weapons, I want it locked onto that fucking ship. Take it down."

"Captain, powering up so many weapons at once will drain power from other systems," EVA pointed out, sounding genuinely worried at his decision, "We will have to reroute power from engines, shields, communications, water recyclers..."

"Fine," Banes spat, moving away to sit in the seat they had recently added to the cockpit. Arms resting on the armrests, he turned back to EVA, teeth gritted, "Then open the javelin torpedo bays, power up the GARDIANs. But I want the IES dropped so we can use the thanix."

What he got in response was not EVA. Her pawn turned from purple to a blood red in colour, indicating she had been hacked, "Jeff would like you to know that denying his request to engage in derogatory conversation is considered impolite. As is, he would like the following message relayed to you: hope you enjoy our new toys."

_Our new...what?_

Before he could reply, the blood red color turned back to purple, EVA's voice filtering through, "I have reassumed control. It appears I was temporarily hacked. Although from what scans I have conducted, I recommend immediate disengagement. Captain...we are thoroughly outmatched."

He shook his head, "No, not again. Flores, is the thanix charged and is the IES system down?"

Flores turned to him slightly, her head craning to speak to him. She looked worried, "Yes and yes, but sir, we-"

"Then lock onto them and fire!" Banes barked, feeling his temper beginning to rise as his head throbbed, "Destroy them right now!"

"Sir, we can't!" Flores replied, "They're fucking gone!"

He scoffed, shooting up from his chair to close the distance, grabbing the edge of her chair as he looked down at her, "What, you mean they engaged their IES? We have windows...we can  _see_ them."

"That's just it, sir!" was the pilot's hurried reply, hands flicking over numerous screens before finally falling to her sides, baffled, "I  _am_. The  _Normandy_ hasn't just disappeared from sensors, we simply can't  _see_ it. There's nothing there!"

Banes was incredulous.  _Does she expect me to believe that the Normandy can just evaporate into thin air?_ "Ships don't just  _disappear_ , Flores. Find me that-"

EVA interrupted him, immediately drawing his attention, "The  _Normandy_ appears to have a cloaking device. They are using it in tandem with their IES to render them completely undetectable."

"How the fuck is that possible!?" Banes shouted, slamming a fist down on Flores' chair, "Ships don't have cloaking devices! The technology simply isn't there! Who developed it, if not us!?"

EVA seemed just as lost as he did, "Unknown. Although, given the full extent of my readings on their ship, I would assume the technology, along with the rest of their upgrades, are geth. It appears they have surpassed us technologically."

Banes turned back to the cockpit, jaw clenching but emotions running rampant. He was both frustrated, annoyed, shocked, confused and helpless. As he looked through the forward windows, he could indeed see that the  _Normandy_ had simply disappeared. Any trace of it was gone from sensors, and the distinct outline of a cloak would be near impossible to pick out in the darkness of space, especially from the naked eye.

"Sir, orders?" Flores asked, seeming slightly shocked by their turn of events. It definitely wasn't how they planned this.

_Damn them. Always seem to be one step ahead of us._

"Sir?" Flores repeated, finally getting his attention. He turned, seeing her looking up at him expectantly, awaiting his command. Her hands had stopped moving, waiting until he had given her permission to do so. He inwardly growled, looking between her, EVA's interface and the dark void before them, an expanse of lazily floating asteroids all that was in front of them, their foe having once more evaded their grasp.

He would have to make a decision. Either he would continue to engage them, and inevitably lose, or inform the Illusive Man and Petrovsky that he had once again been defeated by the  _Normandy_.

He turned to Flores, ready to make his final decision. Suddenly, the sensors on Flores' flight terminal went ballistic, beeping erratically with a new contact.

"The  _Normandy_ has decloaked!" EVA loudly announced, sounding utterly calm but with what Banes swore was a hint of frantic urgency, "They have appeared ninety degrees to port! They are charging up some kind of energy-based weapon system...nothing we've encountered before, but its technology pings as geth in origin. They are locking onto us. If we stay here, I cannot guarantee the cyclonic barriers will hold against a barrage of plasma, captain."

 _More toys. Just how much geth tech has been stuffed into that frigate?_ His fingernails bit into the chair, hands reddening as they tensed. He knew they couldn't win, and that persisting would only result in the inevitable. He had no choice. He made his decision.

He turned to EVA, pointing at her immediately, "Engage the IES and get us the hell out of here. Fire our GARDIANs at them until they return to cloak. Once done, full flank speed into the asteroid belt. Our IES combined with the asteroid belt will allow us to escape."

He turned and made his way back to his command chair, barely moving an inch as the  _Deliverance_ 's GARDIANs retaliated, showering the  _Normandy_ with laser-guided missiles. Then, just as ordered Flores, went into full military thrust, the  _Deliverance_ 's hulk lurching as it moved towards the asteroid belt, and away from danger.

Banes could only sigh.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1640 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of Sahrabarik._

_Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI._

"They are retreating into the asteroid belt, Jeff. Our kinetic barriers managed to absorb the brunt of their GARDIAN attack, but I doubt their intention was to disable us. Should we pursue them?"

Joker grinned, leaning back into his leather seat as he watched the  _Deliverance_ through the forward view window, the ship boost away from them, engines flowering with blue vibrance as it was navigated away from its hostile sister ship.

He turned to EDI's holographic pawn, still grinning, "I don't know, EDI. I think we've taught them a lesson."  _Don't mess with my baby. The Normandy is one hundred times better than that knockoff. Looks better too. Can't believe I'm saying it, but the blue and black paintjob looks SO MUCH BETTER than the white and gold from before. At least those retrofitters got something right._

EDI seemed to understand the sentiment, "I believe the necessary intimidation factor to ward off any further attack has worked effectively. Their captain likely understands that we now outmatch him in everything. I will default to your judgment, Jeff."

Joker, turning back, had EDI reengage the cloak, deactivating their new plasma cannon, simply watching in glee as the  _Deliverance_ disappeared behind a rather large planetoid.

_Run Forest, run! Oh, damn it, Joker. That reference was dated since before you were born._

Now he just had to think of a better reference for later.

**"So you defeated the** _**Deliverance** _ **in battle, proving the** _**Normandy** _ **'s superiority once again. What about on the ground? You said you and your squad were assaulting a pinned Cerberus company in the Zeta District?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"I did indeed. Quite the conundrum, in fact. Although I do remember that resolved itself."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Just finished up on Voeld. If you guys spoil anything beyond that area, I will exalt every single one of you primitive vermin (Havarl is good though, finished that planet too. Mostly).** _

_**Right. Next chapter is a multi-part one, so strap in. It'll be a long one.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	66. I Am His Instrument, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randall and Leng don't get along. Petrovsky orders a retreat. Shepard and Aria's forces link up, and continue their advance to the bunker.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:**

**I AM HIS INSTRUMENT PART ONE**

_August 5, 2186_

_1652 hours._

_43rd Sebember Street, Rubicon Quadrant, Pefashi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng._

It appeared Nyreen Kandros wasn't just audacious, she was adaptable. And bloody relentless.

It was at this point, for Randall, that running and gunning became his preferred, and necessary, method of movement. Bouts of jogging were interrupted by equal bouts of dropping to one knee, raising one's rifle to their shoulder and attempting to kill whatever fell into his sights that wasn't wearing white and gold SPARTAN armor of some description. It became so repetitious to the point where he almost fell into the rhythm robotically, like he didn't need to think about it, he just did it.

So here he was, teeth gritted, knee pressed against the dull, non-descript, gritty metal deck, Harrier pressed against his shoulder, both hands gripping his weapon with quick attention, eyes bared downrange as he found his intended target. A Talon sniper, one that had, quite frankly, been the bane of his existence since his company repelled the initial Talon ambush.

_You are smart, Nyreen Kandros. Harass and compress, instead of outright attack. Perhaps we've underestimated these rebels for far too long...or at least Colonel Farland has been, anyway._

He pressed the trigger, tapping it four times to let out four, deadly bursts of cacophonus lead, almost feeling the rounds smash into the rebel on the rooftops. To his displeasure, the Talon rolled to their left, avoiding the last two bursts, but with his shield drained and now practically naked to the world. Doing the smart thing, the rebel fell onto their front, keeping out of sight until their shields recharged.

Randall spun, taking aim at another Talon, this one with an M-37 Falcon. The Falcon was, by all rights, a semi-automatic grenade launcher mixed with a rocket launcher. It fired rocket-propelled grenades at its target with the lethality and swiftness of an assault rifle, but with all the stopping power of a shotgun. The Talon took aim with it, firing four into the shield of a guardian, the blasts enough to stagger the soldier, allowing one of his fellow Talons to snipe the guardian through the slot in his shield, head blowing apart like a watermelon, causing him to fall back, dead.

Randall, frowning, turned and looked up, taking aim with his harrier at the Falcon wielding hostile. He was a batarian, so Randall figured it would take a few rounds to put him down for good: batarians were nothing if not brutally resilient. Six bursts left his harrier before he had to reload, Randall watching in triumph as the first landed a swift blow, blowing through his shields and piercing one of his left eyes, before the other five tore into his armoured chest. He collapsed, but not before his turian friend dropped his sniper rifle, rolling over to grab his fallen comrade's assault rifle, making sure to remain out of sight.

He sighed, tapping his comm, "I want anyone with a rocket launcher to focus your fire on the rooftops: keep them suppressed while the rest of us move forward. Leng, take your phantoms and hug the sides of the street: stay out of sight, out of mind. Dragoons, biotic barriers, right now. I want all nemesi to the back of the formation and protected by the guardians: we don't have many left: that goes for engineers too. Keep moving and don't stop! Take out whatever Talons you can, but never stop moving! We have to reach E Company!"

_It's been too long. Their line may have collapsed already. If so, B Company has to be there to establish a new one: buy Petrovsky time for his battalions to reinforce our position. Then we can crush Shepard and his troops in a quick pincer movement._

But first...these Talons  _had_ to go...

From the quick scan he gave the rooftops with his eyes, he couldn't find Kandros herself anywhere: it was possible she was blending in or was simply commanding from the sidelines: either way, he was disappointed she hadn't decided to engage him in combat again. If he was to be honest, she had given him more of a fight than Shepard ever did.

_She was all reflexes and tactics. Deconstruction of a target using swift counterattacks. Reinforcing her small frame with biotics. Supplementing her weaknesses and faults with strengths and advantages. Quick with a weapon, strong with her fists. A pity we cannot fight again. It would bring me pleasure to defeat her. It would certainly be quite the feat._

He suddenly felt himself thrown against the ground, a ferociously sudden cold slapping him in the face, penetrating his helmet to chill his skin and cause goosebumps to prickle on his cheeks. Grunting, he quickly rolled over, spinning and coming to stand, rifle raised.  _It appears Nyreen has made her-_

He was surprised to only see an asari waving her hands at him, and he quickly fired two rounds into her, watching them ping harmlessly off her protective barrier. Randall, knowing he was helpless against biotics, quickly tore an incendiary grenade from his belt and tossed it behind her. The asari saw the grenade coming, grabbing it with her biotics and encasing it in a biotic field, watching it detonate harmlessly, and seemingly anti-climatically, within the small bubble she had formed. Turning back to him angrily, Randall was only able to fire two more shots before she picked him up off the ground, growling loudly in anger.

The cold enveloped him, body feeling both pleasantly cooled and freezing at the same time. He struggled against the biotic envelopment, but knew that if the asari wanted to, she could probably rip him in half within a second.

The asari laughed, eyes glistening with amusement and her grin empowering her smugness, "These supersoldiers are nothing! You and your Cerberus overlords do not belong here! Omega is our home, and we will fight to keep it that way! You...Cerberus asshole! I'm going to enjoy ripping you-"

An unmistakable sword suddenly pierced the asari's chest, impaling her from the back. Randall was instantly dropped to the ground as her biotics evaporated from her form, glowing blue eyes dying down to their usual, natural color. Randall grunted as he landed, armor pressed uncomfortably against his skin from the impact. Noticing his harrier nearby, he quickly grabbed it, standing up as he turned back to aim at the asari...

...only to find her on the ground, back to the floor, with Leng stabbing her multiple times in the belly with one of his smaller knives, sword sheathed as he gleefully tore into her, purple blood spurting everywhere from every shank. The asari was long dead at this point, blood dripping from her lifeless lips, eyes looking soullessly into the air. Randall couldn't help but sneer at Leng's complete contempt for the soldier.

_Just demonstrates what kind of creature he is. Hatred is his love, murder his constant companion. His idiocy only makes it worse._

"Enough Leng," he snapped, Leng finally turning towards Randall, his knife poised in mid air in preparation for a continuation of his  _ad nauseum_ shanks, blood oozing off the sharpened blade. There was a slight smirk on the corners of his mouth. Seemingly waking up from whatever phase he was in, he turned back to the corpse before him before delivering one final shank to the chest, pushing himself up as he sheathed the blade, wiping the purple blood that had collected at the bottom of his coat. Sure that he had successfully finished her off, he grabbed his sword, turning to Randall expectantly.

"What?" Randall asked, wondering what the assassin wanted.  _We are in the middle of a battle. Whatever it is can wait._

"A thanks is in order," Leng gloated, running a hand through his hair as he waved dismissively at the Talon's corpse, "I just saved you."

Randall just rolled his eyes, turning to look back at their Talon foes on the rooftops, weapon raised, "Just do your job, Leng. I'm not going to thank you for doing what you're supposed to do. I'm sure there is plenty of dead asari you can use to make fleshy medals for yourself."

"So touchy," Leng quipped, shaking his head, "It's almost as if I struck a chord."

"You're a dog, Leng," Randall spat, peppering a retreating Talon with high velocity rounds. One finally struck him in the back, the human falling out of sight as the bullet struck him directly in the rear of the head. He quickly reloaded, returning to his suppressive fire, "A rabid dog. Now, go dog. Bite some people and bark some more. We've got killing to do."

Leng just gave him his signature sneer before vanishing into cloak again, a simple fizzle wracking his form to pave the way for his disappearance. Gunfire tore into the ground where the assassin had been mere moments before, and Randall quickly snapped to the source, raising his rifle and feeling his weapon buckle into his shoulder several times, attempting to kill the Talon responsible. Despite rupturing his shields, the turian managed to dodge the last shot, the round slicing across the side of his face, leaving quite the scar. The Talon cried out before he was quickly dragged by his fellow turian comrade out of view. A salarian filled the spot he was in, returning fire with his M-8 avenger. Randall, his shields flaring, quickly realized the futility of his current position, and rolled out of view of the Talon, hugging closely to the wall.

Several Cerberus troopers arrived at his side, one crouching while the other two flanked each of Randall's sides.

"Sir, what do we do? We're down to thirty men, and these Talons don't look to be letting up. We're getting slaughtered, Major," the trooper to his left declared, before running out, turning around and firing his mattock up at an enemy on the rooftop. He grunted as the Talon returned fire, his shields flashing rapidly as multiple rounds made impact. The trooper rushed back to the wall, growling in anger as he reloaded his weapon.

Randall looked back out across the street to see the trooper was indeed correct. Everytime the Talons pulled off one of their ambushes, they managed to kill more and more of Randall's company. When he had repelled Kandros' initial attack, he had lost thirty of his eighty strong company, most of them assault troopers, but a few guardians, nemesi and combat engineers were lost as well. With fifty men left, they tried to advance to E Company's defensive AO, but with the Talons launching repeated offensives on their flank, attacking with 'bug bites', the more men he lost. The situation was dire, and Randall was beginning to wonder if there would be anything left of B Company by the time they finally reached their destination.

_Thirty left of a eighty man company. Definitely a problem. Should have brought that Atlas, or at least some kind of armoured support. The enemy have superior position and we can't afford the costly assault of removing these pests. Only option we have is to push forward or withdraw, and the latter is not acceptable._

He nodded, turning to the trooper. He hit the comm, motioning for a group of retreating soldiers (a dragoon and two assault troopers) to form up on him before speaking, "B Company, fall back to the walls. Guardians, raise shields and block oncoming fire. Leng, take your phantoms and get onto the rooftops. I want these Talons dealt with so we can advance."

"On it," was Leng's brief reply.

"How do you propose to get up there, sir?" the trooper on his left asked again.

Randall turned to him, quickly turning around until he was facing the wall, walking slightly back before looking up, "We'll use our thruster packs. All units, follow my lead. We're going up."

_Finish these rebels off right here and now. I'm not losing any more of my men._

Keying his omni-tool, he brought his thruster pack online: each trooper had a different type. Some had rocket boots, some had the pack on their back, which was the preferred method, as it wasn't as unreliable and controlled far better. The thruster pack was exactly what one came to expect from a jet pack: it delivered a brief burst of energy that thrust the user into the air, allowing them to mantle mostly unsurmountable obstacles. And no matter what type was used, every Cerberus soldier had one, including Randall.

He looked up at the rooftops above: the buildings were lined up in a sort of Paleo-British format: they were all 'squashed' together, with each house connected to the ones next to it, both conserving space and compressing it. The structures themselves were at least two to three stories high, which would be enough for one thrust of his thruster to reach. Doing so would also be faster than breaking into the houses and using their stairs to reach the top.

Noticing the rest of his men following his example, Randall made the first jump. Leaping into the air, feet leaving the plain deck plating, he felt his thruster pack kick in as soon as he was 'airborne': his body jolted suddenly as a rapid burst of momentum shot him further into the air due to the brief gust of propulsion that had erupted from the booster on his back. He shot upwards, rapidly ascending the stories until he just passed the rooftops, managing to do so in less than two seconds. Close to the edge, Randall quickly found himself breaking into a roll, feet making impact on the rooftop before erupting into a crouch, rifle raised and firing directly into the nearest target.

He was surrounded by five or so Talons...four, once his harrier tore into the chest of the batarian standing infront of him, armor shredded by the armor-piercing rounds. Randall turned to address a human Talon standing next to the dying batarian, who was quickly raising what looked to be a Tempest SMG at Randall, the indicator on the edge of the weapon indicating he had disruptor rounds equipped.

The human never got to fire his weapon: his shields flashed four times before bursting, a fifth round penetrating his face through his nose, blood exploding out the back of his head from the brutality of the impact. Collapsing, the other three Talons were quickly mowed down as the five assault troopers accompanying Randall arrived on the rooftop after using their rocket boots, all of them landing with a series of thuds. The Talons on the next building saw them and opened fire, their combination of surprise and anger allowing them to hold out despite the sudden turn of events.

One of the trooper's shields burst, a round clipping his right shin, the trooper crying out and leaning on it in pain, before raising his mattock and retaliating. Before his shields could recharge however, a batarian with a modded M-23 Katana shotgun charged at him, peppering them with a rapid dispersal of kinetically-propelled shells. One of these shells slammed into the chest of the unshielded trooper, causing him to fall back from the sheer impact, blood spurting from the wound. Another round blew his face apart, killing him. A third and fourth made short work of a second trooper, before the last three finally managed to put the batarian down with a hail of bullets.

Rushing over to the corpse of the batarian soldier Randall had killed, he rolled it over, propped his rifle ontop of him and fell prone, using the dead Talon's body as an improvized sandbag. Rounds peppered the area around him, some slamming into the Talon's dead body, causing it to shift from each impact, while others pinged off the ground. Randall, bringing the scope of his rifle to his eye, quickly found a target and fired, drilling a hole through the eye of a Talon engineer, the salarian spinning from the impact, green blood spiralling through the air and drenching the face of the human standing beside him, before his corpse slammed roughly into the deck.

The rest of B Company was quick to join the ever shifting engagement. The combat engineer that had been with Randall arrived on the rooftop, immediately opening fire on the Talon combatants with his M-5 phalanx heavy pistol, retreating until taking cover behind a ventilation duct, holstering their pistol and using their omni-tool to run numerous tech attacks on the enemy: weapons were remotely overheated, shields were drained, HUDs were sabotaged, motion tracking scrambled, communications jammed...the Talon ambush quickly degenerated into a fight for survival from those that had been fighting to survive from them.

_How the tables turn so quickly._

A dozen troopers, followed by two more engineers, a few guardians and a dragoon soon appeared, the latter using his biotics to push back the Talons while the guardians established a defensive line and steadily moved forward. The only biotic left on the Talon side, unsurprisingly an asari, quickly charged the dragoon, biotically tackling him to the ground before quickly delivering a series of biotically enhanced strikes to the face. By the time the nearest guardian reacted, the dragoon was dead, but revenge was saught as the guardian used his shield to pummel the asari in the back before she could bring her biotics to respond, the heavy metal crushing her beneath it. By the time the guardian stopped and blew her head apart with a close-quarters Talon pistol shot (which was, in itself, washed in irony), the asari's spine was likely already splintered by the repeated impacts of the heavy, augmented shield.

Leng and his phantoms weren't far away from any fight either. Two turians were quickly impaled on two phantom's swords, who quickly ripped them out and cloaked again as the Talon squad attempted to retaliate. Leng appeared behind the blood soaked human from before, his palm firing a burst of kinetic energy into the back of his head, blowing his brains out. He then capitalized on this and swung his sword downwards, cleanly slicing the head of another human in two, the upper half of his head sliding off as he collapsed to the ground, dead. Leng ducked as a batarian tried to bash his face in with his shotgun, followed by Leng swinging his blade downwards once more, taking the batarian's right arm with it. Screaming and dropping his shotgun in shock, the Talon was helpless as Leng smiled sadistically, spinning and driving his blade through the side of the batarian's head, the long blade easily penetrating out the other side. The batarian's scream was cut short, body going limp before Leng ripped the blade back out, letting the Talon's body collapse to the ground.

The rest of the Talons were slaughtered like cattle: it wasn't even a fight at that point. Surrounded on all sides, the Talons were quickly outflanked and decimated. In two minutes, despite Talon attempts to reclaim the advantage, the entire ambush was wiped out. Talon corpses littered the ground, with only a few Cerberus soldiers dying from the attack, despite Randall's predictions of heavy losses. Overall, with the Talon ambush force destroyed, B Company would be free to reach E Company without distraction.

Randall ordered the rest of the company to form up on the rooftop, allowing for a head count and an assessment of their situation. Leng sheathed his sword after wiping it clean of blood, ordering his phantoms to return to him as per Randall's orders. He kicked at the dead body of a batarian beside him, the look on Leng's face telling Randall all he needed to know about his thoughts on that. The assassin kicked the body once more before drawing his own attention back to Randall, straightening his coat and standing straighter, hands at his sides and looking eager to continue.

His rifle still out and ready, but lowered and tucked to his chest, he quickly addressed the thirty or so men standing before him, all armed and ready to jump to action if ordered to, "We have sustained losses men, but as you see, we once again stand victorious. Cerberus will and ingenuity has triumphed once more, and the Talon rebels lie dead at our feet. Only once these Talons and UGC are defeated can Omega know true peace. We are the defenders of Omega. We are its first line of defense. A great darkness is coming, and we must quench it. Our losses were great, but we cannot stop now. E Company needs us, and we must heed their call. Which of you would have us retreat?"

Silence was his answer. Not a single raised hand or objection was made. Randall knew in that moment that B Company remained committed.

He nodded, "Good. Then we push forward to the Zeta District. With luck we'll catch Shepard and his forces in the middle of a push: we'll turn his momentum against him. I want the heavies at the back and whatever support units we have left towards the middle. Any troopers we have remaining will be with me at the front. We must push them back whatever the cost. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" was the reciprocal cry of Randall's troops. Nodding, he ordered his troops to move out, giving a brief nod to Leng before he turned to join the rest of their company in maintaining their attack formation.

Then, suddenly, his comms lit up, with Petrovsky's voice sounding through them, "Major Ezno, I want a sitrep, PDQ."

Leaping off the side of the building, Randall felt his thrusters kick in at the last moment to lighten his fall, causing him to land with a simple thud and jolt of his knees. Grunting from the impact, and hearing several more like it from the rest of his troops, Randall stood up, holding his rifle in one hand as he tapped the side of his helmet to respond, beginning to break into a jog again, "Fairly murky, General. My company is in the Pefashi District, but we were ambushed by a Talon force led by Kandros herself. My men repelled the initial attack, but subsequent attacks have severely drained my troops. We've just dealt with the remainder and are beating feet for E Company's position, but I've lost just over sixty percent of my forces. I have faith we'll be able to push back Shepard however."

"I see," was Petrovsky's simple reaction, followed by silence over the comm.

Randall stopped when he heard the uncertainty in the General's voice in that simple response, the major frowning. Still hearing nothing, Randall spoke, curious as to what had caused Petrovsky's hesitance, "Sir?"

The General sighed over the comm, followed by what Randall could only imagine was a shake of the head, "Our losses seem to be more substantial than our gains, Major. Captain Banes has recently established contact with me. The  _Deliverance_ was defeated again and was forced to withdraw."

Leng, now standing next to Randall and listening in, burst out in anger, voice laced with equal bouts of shock and disgust, "What!? How!? How did Banes manage to fuck up  _that_ easy a kill? We had the element of surprise this time!"

Petrovsky seemed undeterred by Leng's attitude, although that was hardly a surprise at this point. The General was never fazed by the easily frustrated assassin, "Hardly the captain's fault: the  _Normandy_ has had access to unforeseen upgrades that allowed it to outmaneveur the  _Deliverance_. Suffice to say, the UGC is mopping up what's left of our fleet now. With no naval support, the cannons offline and nothing but fighters left, I'm afraid the UGC will soon be deploying the full bulk of its ground forces onto the station. Farland has most of our forces on the other side of the station, and we don't have enough time to divert them: the UGC will be far too entrenched by the time they get there."

Randall somehow knew what was coming, but dreaded it no less. He understood the reason why, and even agreed with it, but he was no less disappointed at their second defeat, "What do you suggest we do, General?"

Petrovsky's reply was quick and to the point, "As of this instant, I'm ordering all Cerberus forces to withdraw from the Zeta, Pefashi, Felmuk and Yelsz districts and to set up defensive positions in all surrounding districts. I'll be postponing Operation: Darksword until this invasion is dealt with, and redirecting Colonel Farland's efforts to repelling the UGC assault. Randall, I want you and what's left of B Company to return to HQ and prepare for reassignment. I want to plan our next move, but I can't do that until you're here. You are our most valuable asset, and I won't lose you to a suicidal assault plan. E Company will be sacrificed to hold back Shepard long enough for the rest of our troops in the area to pull out. I will activate the Pefashi-Zeta forcefields to precipitate our withdrawal."

Randall clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as he inwardly sighed.  _Leng will be pissed, but he'll have to deal with it. Orders are orders, and unfortunately, Petrovsky's right. He knows our forces are stretched too thin and too disorganized to mount a proper defense. By withdrawing his troops and abandoning some of the districts, he's buying his men time to regroup, reorganize and reinforce. A united force will stand a better chance than one divided. If a few districts must be abandoned to the UGC, so be it. General Victus did the same during the War on Taetrus, and he still won. The same can be done here, if we do it right._

_And we'll have to sacrifice E Company in the process._

Randall, ignoring Leng's doubtless look of anticipation, replied curtly but willingly, "Understood, sir. B Company...retreating."

"Excellent. If you notice any further developments, inform me immediately. Petrovsky out," and the comms went silent once more, Randall looking up. He looked at the corner they had just been about to move around, thinking of what could have happened if they had simply kept pushing forward.

But Randall knew exactly what would have happened.  _We would have bought E Company extra breathing room, nothing more. When the UGC reinforcements arrive, and they will, we would have been overrun, all the same. Two companies wiped out, and for what?_

_No. This is the smart thing to do. Petrovsky is right: retreat is the only option we have where we can win. E Company's sacrifice will be honoured._

He turned back to his company behind him, still ignoring Leng, "We have new orders, B company. As of now, we are initiating a full withdrawal from this district. We are to fall back to Apex, where we will recoup our losses and prepare to mount a counter offensive. This is not what we wanted, but it is what we've got. The UGC will valiantly charge after us, but we will just as valiantly fight back. Remember what I said: we are Omega's first line of defense. We will have our chance, but not today. Company...initiate the retreat."

Before Randall could even hear the company's response, Leng appeared in his vision, eyes frowned and lips creased in an outraged sneer. They trembled, fists clenched and jaw clenched firmly, veins popping up along his neck, "This is UNACCEPTABLE! We do not retreat from these vermin, they retreat from us!"

Randall turned to Leng, frowning ever so slightly.  _Irresponsible and insubordinate._ "I don't see what part you see as unacceptable, Leng. We've lost. No shame to admit that. But we must live to fight another day or we'll simply die pointlessly. Is that what you want?"

Leng scoffed, walking up to Randall until his face was mere inches from his, "Those are the words of a  _coward_. We are  _Cerberus_. The unwanted  _ally_ , the necessary  _mediator._ We are the  _sword_ of humanity. What kind of a sword swings away from its kill?"

Randall pushed Leng back, the assassin's breath no longer fogging up the visor on his helmet, which the major quickly brushed away, "A sword is only as good as its handler. That handler has decided this fight is weightless, and thus the sword will wait for its kill. Either way, it will bite flesh. That is its design. That is  _our_  design."

Leng snarled, gritting his teeth, before punching his own chest, right where the Cerberus logo was located, "That is not our way! We run away now and we show nothing but weakness! So what if we only have thirty men? Wars have been fought and won with numerical inferiority! Retreating now only gives Shepard a foothold: one we cannot allow him to possess! We should kick them off the station now! We have the troops...we outnumber them entirely! I see we rush them from all sides...a blitzkrieg!"

Randall just shook his head, "Your knowledge of tactics is so painfully narrow, Leng. So we charge the enemy...then what? They have a fleet, we don't anymore. Even if we do evict them from the station, they can simply lay siege and starve us to death. Troops need nourishment, which comes from food and water: what happens when that stops flowing because a fleet is blockading Omega? We starve, we die. They win. What you propose is both folly and stupidity. You must maintain patience and have faith that General Petrovsky knows what he is doing. The Illusive Man did not make him commander of our military for no reason."

_I do not understand his logic. He would have us throw everything at the UGC over simple pride. That same strategy is what had us defeated on the Citadel. We cannot make that mistake again. Petrovsky would never be so idiotic._

"You're not  _hearing_ me!" Leng growled, his posture becoming more and more shaken, stance less controlled and more animalistic, "We have the opportunity to tear the head off the snake! Shepard is within our grasp! We tried to take him down individually in the past, and he bested us both! Together, we can put him down once and for all! With Shepard dead, his shitty little force will fall apart! He is the centerpiece of it all! We might even be able to kill Aria herself!"

_Technically, Shepard never bested me. The only reason he survived our encounter was because his geth saved him. Had that never happened, I would have been successful. Don't compare my failures to yours, assassin. We are not equals._

Randall pointed at Leng to accentuate his point, believing the assassin to be rapidly losing all control of himself, "With thirty men? They have a battalion of krogan commandos and a squad of highly-trained combatants of numerous professions surrounding him, Leng. Our chances of victory are slim to none. I can see that, why can't you? Could it be that you've allowed irrational pride and irritation seize control of what logic you actually possess? You're letting emotion direct your thinking. That is unhealthy."

"I am not!" Leng spat, shaking even further, "I'm perfectly sane! You are the one making the mistake here!"

"You are emotionally unstable," Randall reciprocated, refusing to back down. The rest of B company sat back and watched, "Control yourself."

"Fuck  _you,_ Ezno," Leng snarled, spittle erupting from his mouth like that of a rabid dog, "You do not tell me what to do. I answer to the Illusive Man, not to you."

Randall nodded, ever calm, "Good. And the Illusive Man posted Petrovsky as your commanding officer, and that very CO is  _ordering_ you to  _retreat._  This is not the Alliance, Leng. You're not your own brand of hero. You're a tool, nothing more."

Leng just chuckled, looking at Randall with a look that reminded him too much of an angry canine with its teeth bared in fury, "You're a former corsair, Randall. Do not talk to me of being a soldier. I was an N7, the best of the best. You were just an SIA pet."

That brought Randall ever so slight amusement, "Being an N7 means more than an insignia, Leng. The Alliance slapped that logo on you to satisfy itself. They wanted a champion, and you were the closest they had at the time. Entiyon was your chance to shine...your only chance. Then up comes Shepard...putting you in your place. Suddenly, the Alliance no longer needs to associate itself with a monster. Your little spectacle on the Citadel gave them the chance they needed to finally be rid of you. Shepard was a far better substitute...diplomat, soldier, hero...but you Leng? You were just a killer. Nobody wants a simple killer for a hero, Leng. Especially not a rabid dog."

A low hiss could be heard eminating from the assassin's mouth, and Randall knew he was striking a chord, "The Illusive Man saw the potential in me..."

Randall sighed, "No, he really didn't. He saw a trained killer, nothing more. If it had been you who died, not Shepard, do you think he would have spent the same amount he did to bring you back? Do you think he would have founded Lazarus? He wouldn't have, and the reason is simple: the Illusive Man saw a tool. He saw the hatred you had for aliens and channelled it for his own use. Your recruitment was circumstance...a want, rather than a need. You think you're special because they gave you an N7 commendation? You're not. The Illusive Man could have attempted to recruit many N7s. You only got chosen because you were useful. As you know, Shepard had his usefulness too. Usefulness is a term used for tools. And every once and a while, those tools need to be replaced."

"Your opinion of me is irrelevant!" the assassin remained adamant, despite Randall's prods, "My plan is the best one we've got! Retreat now, we lose the advantage! We advance, and we can end this! I know we can!"

_He sounds more desperate than assured. He's driven by emotions I don't understand, and seems to act like this retreat is an afront to his pride and dignity. Almost as if killing Shepard matters more than the loss associated with-_

It finally dawned on Randall.  _Of course._

"This isn't about strategy or tactics," Randall suddenly interrupted, Leng's attention focused solely on him, "This is about Shepard and nothing but him."

The assassin laughed menacingly, sounding more and more disillusioned as he spoke, "Of course it is, you moron! Have you been listening to a word I've said? Taking out Shepard is the only-"

Seeing that Leng was trying to dodge the topic, Randall interrupted the assassin mid rant, sternly silencing him, "No, that is your  _primary_ motivation. Behind everything. Anything and everything you've done has been centered around Shepard. Your hatred of aliens has only intensified now that you've encountered Shepard's squad. Many of your recent, successful assassinations have been people associated with him: the husband of that quarian admiral, the late Lieutenant Taylor and more recently Thane Krios. Every single time Shepard is present, you gravitate towards him like a magnet. Why are you so desperate to kill him, Leng? Is it because it annoys you how much resources the Illusive Man put into bringing him back? Is it what he represents or the alien company he keeps? Is it that he betrayed and opposes Cerberus and what we stand for?" he saw no change in Leng's expression, but what he did notice was the assassin tensing up.

Clearly, Randall was reaching the heart of the topic. He moved forward, closing the distance as he thought, bringing his face closer until it was mere inches from his own. The assassin refused to meet his gaze, and Randall realized in that moment exactly what Leng's problem was.

"No, I don't believe it has to do with any of that," Randall stated, narrowing his eyes, "This isn't because Shepard turned his back on us. This isn't because he befriends aliens or represents an agenda you don't like. This is personal for you. Now I understand why you won't retreat...why you  _can't_ retreat. Why it would be such a blow to your pride if you did. Strategy has nothing to do with it..." his lips were locked straight, not a single semblance of a smile gracing them, even as he reached the heart of the topic.

"...you're  _disgusted_. You can't accept that someone like Shepard  _stole_ your spotlight. You were a hero...and then you weren't. You were the Savior of Entiyon...until the Lion of Elysium one upped you. Shepard is everything you're not. You hate that he's better than you. You hate that he's smarter than you. You hate his  _success_. Everything you were or could be... _stolen_ by  _him._ Is that about right, Leng?" he lowered his head, Leng's eyes finally turning to meet Randall's, almost warning him to stop. Randall did not heed that warning, "Are you  _jealous_?"

Even Randall wasn't fast enough to see the strike coming.

Leng snarled in a fit of rage, his right fist swinging up in a flash to connect with the side of Randall's head. The manhunter cried out as he was lifted from the ground by the blow, throwing him across the deck where he rolled several times before coming to a stop, his rifle sliding away from his grip. His eyesight blurred, Randall could only roll himself onto his back, ripping his helmet off as he realized the HUD was glitched, the helmet's emitter damaged by Leng's punch. Clearing up his vision, he saw that there was now a massive dent in the side of the helmet, missing Randall's cheek by a mere hair's width.

Leng was like a fury: he quickly descended upon Randall, delivering a rapid flurry of punches to the downed soldier's face. Randall was ready this time: he quickly parried every single blow, raising his right leg up in the process to deliver a powerful blow to the assassin's chest. Taken offguard by the attack, Leng stumbled, giving Randall the opening to grab Leng by both sides of the head, bringing him down, and allowing the manhunter to slam his head into the assassin's, leading to Leng falling back from the attack, holding his head and growling animalistically.

Randall, with an opening now created, quickly leapt to his feet, and assumed a protective posture, waiting for Leng to make his move. To his credit, the assassin recovered quickly and did not immediately go for his sword, instead keeping this strictly hand-to-hand. Sneering and teeth bared, the two circled each other, watching the other one with intense eye contact, analyzing the other's next move. It was clear that when Leng thought things through, his training as an N7 was clear as day.

_My jabs were just that...jabs. He earned his N7 commendation, but through blood, lies and dead bodies._

But Randall was a better thinker. Thinking was and never would be Leng's strong suit.

Finally seeming to reach a decision, Leng lunged forward, shouting vehemently as he charged, left arm propped forward like a battering ram. Randall saw the move coming, and was ready, twisting his position so that Leng would be charging into the wall behind him. As Leng's momentum carried him past Randall, he quickly grabbed the assassin by the neck, hand clenching around his throat in a vice like grip. There was a choking sound as Randall used all his cybernetically enhanced strength to spin around, taking Leng with him, slamming him into the wall with a loud bang, the wind exploding from Leng's lungs due to the impact, and leaving him breathless.

Leaning forward and bringing them face to face, Randall refused to loosen his grip, letting Leng know who was in command. The assassin simply glared back at him, the black 'goggles' covering his eyes making it impossible to see the hate likely brewing in them, but due to Randall's superior positioning, Leng was clearly unable to fight back and must have known he had lost their brief skirmish.

Randall made sure to let Leng know this in totality, "We are going to follow  _orders_. We will  _retreat_  to HQ and we will  _remain_ there until  _ordered_ otherwise. You will  _not_  allow your emotions to compromise  _our_  mission. If I catch so much as a  _whiff_ of insubordination I will make sure the Illusive Man gets you the lowest janitorial position on the  _Deliverance_. Am I ever so abundantly clear, or must I reclarify my point?"

Silence followed for the next few moments. Glares were exchanged, both of them staring each other down unflinchingly for what felt like an eternity for both of them. Neither side flinched. Neither side broke. They were both supersoldiers: one assassin, one manhunter, but both of them were expert killers, and one didn't learn such a profession without becoming unnervingly stoic. Randall's grip never loosened this entire time, the colour slowly leaving Leng's face as the air was squeezed from him.

But in the end, somebody had to break, and it was never the position in the superior position.

Leng finally gasped, nodding, managing to croak out a simple response through a ragged breath, "F-f-fine...!"

Randall nodded, immediately releasing the assassin. He wheezed unsettingly as he grabbed hold of his own throat, as if it would help him retrieve his breath faster. Most of the color returned to his face, although he still looked incredibly out of breath. Randall turned back to his company, who had patiently waited the entire time, and nodded.

_Now you've been humiliated infront of the entire company, Leng. They all see you for what you are. A sycophant, an emotional bomb and a disgraced special forces operator with no other marketable skills but the art of taking life. Take a long hard look men...this is not what you want to be._

Not even Leng's own phantoms had come to the assassin's aid, the two simply waiting for orders.

They soon had them, the manhunter leaning down to retrieve his broken helmet and his harrier rifle, magnetizing the former to the back of his belt and slapping a fresh thermal clip into the latter, "Move out, men. Double time it. No doubt E Company has fallen while we've been...squabbling. We must run fast if we wish to outrun them."

The company began to file out as ordered, and Randall turned to Leng, who looked to have recovered most of his breath, this time managing to stand without kneeling over. Randall showed no sympathy however, regarding him as one would an insect, "You can catch your breath later. I won't report this to General Petrovsky, but if you do this next time, I will not be so lenient. I might not let go either."

The assassin gave him a simple glare before kicking up into a jog, running past the manhunter...

...in the direction of B company, and of retreat.

Randall nodded silently.  _So he can be tamed._

Without a single look back, Randall joined them.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1712 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_General Oleg Petrovsky._

For the first time in the entirety of Petrovsky's control of Omega...he had ordered a retreat.

Ordering retreats was certainly not new to him. When he had served under General Williams in the First Contact War as a colonel, he had ordered numerous retreats. Whether it was under heavy turian orbital bombardment or simply from encroaching Hierarchy ground forces, Petrovsky had ordered many withdrawals: he was no stranger to the concept. When General Williams gave his infamous order to all Shanxi troops to surrender, Petrovsky had even reaffirmed the order himself. It was something Petrovsky was far from bitter about: it was simply a necessity of bearing a command and having to engage superior forces.

As was one of his personal mantras, 'You must expect multiple retreats before you can expect a single victory.'

Petrovsky was a realist, not an optimist. He made victories happen where they could, accepted defeats when he should. There was no 'well, if we devote enough troops, eventually we'll win' mentality to his directives: he always had a set goal in mind, and whether he achieved it or not was up to the opposing side. He knew he couldn't throw troops at the problem and hope that numbers and manpower decided the confrontation...hence why he had ordered his men to retreat. He knew sending waves of troops instead of simply shoring them up in greater numbers would only make the UGC's job much easier, and so the decision he ultimately made seemed inevitable.

So as he looked over his datapad, jaw loosened and hand idly stroking his heard, he glanced over the information his governors were sending him, both on civilian and military matters.  _Civilian population seems largely docile. We've gone three months without a pro-Talon riot, and our new medical and food supply programs have gone well. There hasn't been a single confrontation between my troops and tumultuous citizens for a while. Good. The more they stay clear off the crossfire, the better. Regardless, I best order an evacuation of the surrounding districts. We can't afford to risk civilian casualties._

Turning away from the datapad and lowering it onto the desk infront of him, he looked up to see the holo projector in the center of New Order HQ, where Afterlife's pole dancing podium used to stand, flashing images of naked asari bodies and promising dreams of sweaty, breathless nights. Now it was a large, war room-type desk, with a massive, red hologram of Omega projected over it, relaying tactical data in real time. Around it were three of Omega's four governors, with the fourth, Farland, out on the field organizing the defense of the Omega Apex. They looked to be coordinating their own troops in the numerous quadrants highlighted, large blue dots representing current Cerberus force deployment, while green represented known UGC positions. Two of his governors were arguing over something Petrovsky could not understand from where he was, while the third leaned over his tactical readout with some exasperation.

Turning from his desk, he walked to the back of his personal war room and descended down the flight of stairs leading up to it, which circled back into the central headquarters. Approaching his governors from behind, he noted that the two arguing were Connor Amish and Heather Colwood, while Mitchell Wchest was the one leaning over the console, paying the other two no mind.

Wishing to see what had his colonels so divided, Petrovsky increased his pace until he was beside them, clearing his throat so he could be heard, "I would like to know immediately why two of my colonels are bickering, right now. This is hardly the time to be having such dissension in our ranks."

Colwood was the first to speak, sighing as she turned to Petrovsky with a frown, sounding angry and annoyed, "Colonel Amish has ordered his men to halt in the Yelsz district and set up defensive positions while advance recon teams evacuate civilians from the district and harass the advancing enemy column. Not only that, but his men were supposed to regroup with mine in the Doru district as part of the retreat, and never communicated to let us know that they were doing so. My men wasted precious time...time that allowed the UGC to get closer. I could have lost an entire regiment to this bafoon's idiocy."

"Ha!" was Amish's response, the colonel shaking his head before crossing his arms, "You may not understand the tactics of my decision, but I do. I took what time I had left to evacuate what civilians I could before they fell into UGC hands. They were going to overrun our position, regardless. I bought your men extra time to retreat and they sat on it. Not my fault your commanders are incompetent."

"They didn't even know about your stupid decision to begin with!" Colwood spat back at him, "They thought you'd been attacked. The whole point of this retreat was to regroup. You defied that order so you could be a hero and now my regiment are a full ten minutes behind in regrouping with the rest of the Second Corps. How are we supposed to beat the UGC if you don't even follow orders?"

Petrovsky shook his head, "Have both your forces pulled out as instructed?"

Both of them turned to the General, and after a moment of hesitation, both managed to blurt out, "Yes."

"Then I see no problem," holding a hand up to halt Colwood's objection, he continued, "We have other things to worry about. Colonel Amish did the right thing in evacuating the civilians, and you did the right thing in reporting this breach in communication protocol. I want you to both ensure these mistakes do not happen again. They may seem petty, but they can compromise our entire operation if you're not careful. You are colonels...act like it. Now, Colonel Amish...how many civilians did you evacuate and where to?"

Amish saluted him before responding, ignoring Colwood's further sigh of defeat, "About 9,000 sir. I ordered them to drop everything and leave. Personal possessions, vehicles...everything, sir. The evacuation was completed in just over seven minutes. From there, we escorted them towards the Gozu district, where they now currently reside. I have my men distributing rations and supplies to them now, sir. I'm also having my men reinforce all possible entrances and doubling the patrols. I lost quite a few men protecting the Zeta district, but I've withdrawn the rest to the defensive positions you laid out. As governor of the Rubicon quadrant, I will ensure no breaches in our line occur. I have the 6th Regiment already establishing a line of defense, with the 8th and 9th moving into reinforce them. The 7th will remain in reserve. Do you want me to retask our local RAMPARTs?"

Petrovsky nodded, "With most of those districts about to be evacuated, I believe that a wise decision. In every district that's been evacuated, have those RAMPART mechs reassigned to support and sabotage roles. How you organize your defense is up to you, but I recommend having your armoured vehicles and Atlases reinforcing every single street. Have snipers on the rooftops, combat engineers in the alleyways. Whatever you do, make sure every street is turned into a choke point. If the UGC calls for air support, use what gunships, shuttles and fighters you have at your disposal. Keep them bogged down. Steer clear of any populated areas, though. I do not want civilians getting caught in the crossfire, understood?"

Amish offered one final, crisp salute, "Yes sir! I will take a shuttle down there and personally oversee it myself, sir."

Petrovsky shook his head, landing a hand on Amish's relatively thin shoulders, grasping them tightly just as the colonel turned to move away, the governor's attention brought back to Petrovsky.  _Thin shoulders, medium build. No meat on those bones. He has no military experience and that means he hasn't seen combat. He'd be useless in a straight up fight._

"That will not be necessary. Coordinate your forces from here," Amish opened his mouth to object, but Petrovsky quickly silenced him, "I need you close. If you are lost to a stray bullet, I will have lost a colonel. I cannot afford that. After losing Ashe, Farland was the closest I had to a replacement, and we do not have an infinite amount of commanders to choose from. Remain here and coordinate from the war room if you have to. Let your ground commanders lead from the field. You lead from the holos."

Amish sighed, slumping his shoulders, before finally nodding, "I...yes, sir. I understand."

Petrovsky gave him a slight smile, "Very good, colonel. Return to your readout and continue coordinating our defense. You're doing humanity proud."

Letting go of Amish's shoulder, the governor of the besieged Rubicon left to attend to the battle, while Petrovsky turned to Colwood, who was now looking at the General, although looking slightly irritated, "Colonel Colwood, I need an update on your own forces."

She nodded, running a hand down her tired face, "Well, despite Amish's delays, the 10th regiment did manage to get back to Apex, and I have them shoring up with Farland's 2nd regiment outside HQ. The 11th and 12th are currently also retreating towards the Kyle and Erichlen districts, and I'm getting reports that the 13th has briefly engaged more UGC forces on the far side of the Fulmuk district, but are withdrawing safely with minimal casualties. However...what worries me is the reports. Sir, they have geth and quarians fighting beside each other. I don't know what Shepard did, but they were seeing some weird shit."

Petrovsky nodded, shaking his head, "Yes, Admiral Bonaparte, before we lost contact with him, had relayed reports to me of quarian and geth warships operating as part of the UGC fleet. It appears Shepard has done more than simply cure the genophage. But do not let that deter you. Geth die to bullets just as much as the standard soldier, they just take more of them. Make sure your men know that the next time they are forced to engage them."

Colwood licked her lips, uncrossing her arms, "Got it, General. Now, what do you want me to do with the men I've got? Keep the population in check? The Talons are still very much an issue, and I've got an entire quadrant to manage."

Petrovsky nodded, entering a parade rest stance, "Have the 11th and 12th return to the Rhine quadrant, colonel. No point in fighting this war if we let our quadrants fall to the Talon rebels. Do what you must to ensure that doesn't happen."

She gave him a simple salute, lowering her hand soon afterwards, "On it, General." She then turned back to the screen, notably far from Amish, and began to broadcast her set orders. Finally, Petrovsky addressed Colonel Wchest, who did not turn to Petrovsky until he finally noticed the General standing there, quickly turning and offering a salute. Unlike Colwood, Amish and Farland, Wchest actually was former military...namely, a former UNAS Delta Force major. His shoulders were well built, beard cut to his former regulation practice and a simple cap lowered over his scalp. The man had been the only one of the colonels in the room solely focused on his readout, looking over the details with an obsessive stare. His salute was strong and firm, not like Amish and Colwood who's salutes lacked conviction, and were only done out of a misguided need to address the fact they were now technically military.

Petrovsky saluted him back, before clasping his hands back again, "Colonel Wchest, you've been awfully quiet unlike your fellow colonels. How goes the Hudson quadrant?"

Wchest lowered his own hand as well, keeping them firmly at his side, head held high in the presence of his superior officer, "All things are quiet on my end, General. The 5th is currently returning after you postponed Darksword, but the 14th, 15th and 16th are currently on high alert and ready to move. Talon activity has been the lightest in that quadrant, sir. There's simply not much to report."

Petrovsky raised one eyebrow at that, "Then why are you so focused on that readout if everything is quiet?"

Wchest exhaled deeply, shrugging, "Guess I don't like the idea of quiet. When you're on a space station full of angry rebels and terrorists wanting to kill you, there's going to be violence. The lack of it scares me because then you know they're planning something. Then you think of what they might hit: a supply depot? A barracks full of troops? A factory? A forcefield maintenance team? A patrol? Our headquarters? Silence is a dead giveaway, sir. I learnt that during Cornucopia. You heard of it?"

Petrovsky nodded, "Indeed I have. A joint South American-Israeli military operation conducted against the UIS in the Middle East in 2159. I don't believe the UNAS was involved in that conflict."

That seemed to amuse Wchest, "Since when is the west ever involved in an eastern conflict?" His rhetorical question was laced with sarcasm, and Petrovsky couldn't help but smile at it.

"Touche," was his response.

Wchest nodded, "I was part of a Delta Force unit sent to aid the Israelis in destabilizing UIS operations in the area. We...uh...were responsible for that MOAB incident that resulted in 89 UIS deaths and 16 South American soldiers," he looked away, almost ashamed, "Shoddy intelligence was to blame. We were told our forces had pulled out. Turned out UIS had a Union squad pinned down when Washington gave the go ahead. Officially, the incident was blamed on Israel. I..." he sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, "...gave the order."

"Ah," the General epiphanied, nodding his head, "You feel guilty for their deaths."

"I  _felt_ guilty. But that shit is old news. It's in the past. Now, I'm a full time hypocrite," Wchest chuckled bitterly, "UIS was formed in response to the Alliance becoming affiliated with aliens following our war with the turians. Now, here I am...with a pro-human organization doing the exact same thing they did just with fancier tech."

"I can see where you come from colonel, but it isn't the same. Not anymore," Petrovsky stated, patting the man on the shoulder, "Cerberus fights for a galactic future. This isn't about just humanity anymore. The Illusive Man believes humanity's best chance for survival is to control the Reapers: we must trust that he knows what is right for us. If that means stopping Shepard, then we must. They do not thank us now, but they will someday."  _Hardly. I don't believe in the Illusive Man's ideals anymore than Wchest. But I need my colonels at their best..._

"Thank you, sir. But I would prefer an actual battle over this waiting," Wchest shrugged once more, turning back to his readout, "I stare at this screen hoping for an anomaly to pop up. Anything to get me active...perhaps a Talon scout or a recovered bomb or intercepted broadcast. Anything or everything would be better than twiddling my thumbs waiting for something to happen."

"Patience is a virtue. I thought you would learn that in Delta Force," Petrovsky queried.

Wchest nodded, "I went to West Point: patience was probably the biggest part of their officer training course, or at least the underlying theme of it all. But there's only so much patience one can endure in such a tension filled engagement," sighing, he scratched the back of his neck, turning back to look Petrovsky in the eyes, "Still, my men will await your word. Whenever you need us, they're ready. I just hope it's sooner rather than later."

Petrovsky offered nothing but a salute, "Hold position, colonel. I believe you'll find your fight sooner than you think."

Turning away, Petrovsky quickly ascended the stairs back to his war room, reaching the top just as Colwood shouted up at him from below.

"General Petrovsky!" her words sounded panicked.

He frowned, leaning over his desk to look down at her, "What's the emergency?"

"It's First Fleet, sir!" she replied, voice just as loud and tumultuous, "We just lost our last ship. They're gone, sir. The UGC fleet is establishing a blockade around the station."

He nodded, acknowledging what he already knew would happen.  _Without our fleet, the UGC now have naval supremacy. We have to break that. Luckily, we have a way of communicating with the rest of Cerberus that the UGC can never block._

"Understood," was his curt reply, "Return to maintaining ground operations. I will request reinforcements from the Illusive Man."

With a sigh, he turned away from his desk, clenching his jaw and feeling his age beginning to kick in. Regardless, he knew the war wasn't over, and that there was still a fighting chance for victory: if he could just get a fleet to repel the UGC forces, then perhaps there was a chance to reclaim naval superiority."

He slowly dipped his head, eyes giving his chessboard an ever so brief glance. Leaning down, he grabbed two of Shepard's pawns and knocked over two of his own, both of which fizzled out of existence. Straightening himself up, he walked to the back of his war room and arrived at his QEC, where he promptly sent a communication request to Cronos Station and stood on the pad, hands still in parade rest in a perfect symbol of military professionalism. After all, he was still a general, even in the presence of Cerberus' illusive leader.

As always, a few moments passed before Cronos accepted the request, and before no time Petrovsky found himself in the familiar dark, circular room of 'Humanity's Sanctum.' He squinted his eyes for a moment as they adjusted to the bright light of Anadius in the background, the gigantic star's proximity still monstrously bright even through the tinting of the observation windows. He looked forward, finding the illuminated figure of the Illusive Man sitting in his chair, arms rested on the sides and a cigar resting in its ashtray, smoke trailing for its consumed end. His normally filled glass of whiskey was now on the ground and empty, light reflecting off of it from the sun. Standing beside Cerberus' commander-in-chief was another man, this one standing and clearly wearing a Cerberus uniform, whispering in his ear and gripping a datapad in his hand. Petrovsky recognized him as Geoff Dielheart: the Illusive Man's new second-in-command following Lawson's defection.

Likely having seen that Petrovsky's connection had succeeded, the Illusive Man twisted his head to face the General, waving a hand to dismiss the lieutenant. Geoff immediately stood up, nodded and made a hasty exit, walking past Petrovsky and towards the exit at the back of his room, datapad held at his side. His footsteps echoed across the panelled floor until they were silenced by the closing of the door behind them. Alone, the Illusive Man took a whiff of his cigar, before letting it escape from his mouth, blue synthetic eyes meeting the General's instantly, "General, I was not expecting to hear from you so soon. Have you made any progress in expelling Shepard's forces?"

The Illusive Man had been kept well informed of everything that was going on by Petrovsky through regular updates, but those had since stopped once the geth had blocked standard non-QEC external communications, forcing Petrovsky to resort to relaying important mission via QEC, like he was doing now, "It could be better. Shepard and his troops have disabled our cannons and are currently engaging Colonel Amish's regiments along the Rubicon quadrant. We're holding, but I'll be coordinating with Leng, Banes and Ezno to come up with a plan to expel his forces permanently. However, I do not call about that. The UGC fleet has won the naval battle against our own fleet and have recently destroyed what's left of it. Their ships can now operate with impunity."

There was a sigh, the Illusive Man resting his head in one hand, rubbing his forehead seemingly with frustration. Dumping his cigar in its respective ashtray, he stayed leaning back, scratching his greying brown hair, "That's an advantage we cannot afford to let them keep, General. This defeat is absolutely unacceptable. I want you to inform Admiral Bonaparte that such failure will not be tolerated in the future."

He licked his lips, Petrovsky feeling an immense sense of annoyance at his own situation as well, "That will not be possible. Admiral Bonaparte is no longer with us. He died defending the station from his flagship, the heavy frigate  _Objector_."

"An unfortunate setback, but one we can recover from. Nevertheless, the loss of an entire fleet should not be taken lightly," the Illusive Man replied, letting his words rest as if already predicting the General's next request. The shady benefactor always seemed to know something before anybody else did: it was almost as if he could read somebody's mind simply by looking at them. His synthetic, husk-like eyes didn't help that distinction.

Finally, he gave a quick nod, knowing the Illusive Man would not finish that sentence anytime soon, "I make this call in a bid for reinforcements. Naval supremacy in the hands of the enemy is tantamount to giving them their triumph."

"Too true," was his simple response, "The closest fleets I can have dispatched to your location are the Fifth and Ninth. However, one is currently in the Exodus cluster and the other is in the Voyager cluster. The amount of time it would take for both to leave their respective locations, evade Reaper forces and successfully arrive at Omega to assist you would be a while. I estimate at least five days," a sigh, followed by the inhale of a cigar's fumes, "...I assume you can hold out until then?"

_Five days. Omega has enough military provisions to last five years or more. That should do nicely. We've just got to keep Shepard and Aria bogged down long enough for our reinforcements to destroy the UGC fleet and catch Shepard in an encirclement._

He snapped a salute, followed by one final nod of the head to demonstrate he accepted the Illusive Man's conditions, "We can hold out for five days. Until then, I'll have my men use everything at their disposal to keep Shepard and Aria pinned. They shouldn't be an issue much longer. Even Shepard is fallible. Besides, we also have the  _Deliverance_."

"Good. A useful weapon...make sure to use it," the Illusive Man ordered, before bringing up a holographic screen before him, "Now, if you do not mind, there are other issues I must attend to. I will relay your orders to admirals Greengrass and Stone. Hold Omega, General. Titan is not yet finished. We cannot afford to lose our foothold in the Terminus. Another UGC victory against us is another Reaper victory. Remember what's at stake."

With that, the communication was unceremoniously cut, leaving Petrovsky to look blankly at a wall for several moments.  _He looks...more and more tired each time I see him. Almost as if managing a galaxy-wide war effort against two opponents is becoming too much to handle. The look in his eyes, the greying in his hair...he seems to be physically aging as much as he is mentally aging. That, and his cold, seemingly deadened, gaze..._

Petrovsky shook off those feelings, turning away from the pedestal he stood on and quickly returning to his desk. There was much work to do, and with the assurance of reinforcements, that workload was made much less. Now he just had to do what he did best.

Fight a ground war.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1701 hours._

_10th Delilah Street, Rubicon Quadrant, Zeta District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Zeta District._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Moses, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko,_ _First Lieutenant Jack, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak._

"ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" came a boisterous yell from behind them, signalling the arrival of much welcomed reinforcements, "...let's crank up the  **heat!** "

Marcus fired his rifle one final time before turning to see his friend stomping towards the Cerberus entrenchment, slamming in another thermal clip. He had taken down six assault troopers with clean headshots, but not much more: these Cerberus had been smart and kept to cover, something that even Garrus had found very little time to exploit. The turian lay prone to Marcus' left, sniper rifle propped up against this shoulder and cracking off shots at anything that moved, but so far he had only managed to kill a trio of nemesi and a guardian.

Another grenade plopped down on the ground and Liara once again formed a biotic barrier to deflect the blast. Marcus flinched slightly from the blast, body reacting to the presense of the normally devastating explosion. The trio of Cerberus vehicles remained where they were: the two Angel IFVs poured fire towards their flank, while the M32 Thresher focused on the other flank. The Atlas had thankfully been taken care of, courtesy of Moses: the Cerberus company had tried to flush them out by sending an Atlas over the barricade, but Moses and his combat drone managed to penetrate the cockpit and kill the driver, causing the powerful mech to collapse ontop of the barricade, crushing the sheets of metal beneath it, opening up a gaping hole in their defense and taking the lumbering armoured exoskeleton out of the equation.

Currently, their team was split into two: both on opposite sides of the street. Marcus, Garrus, Liara, Moses, Javik, James, Jack and her students were on the left, while Aria, Tali, Kasumi, EDI, Keeling and Kaidan were on the right. Kasumi and Tali coordinated with their tech, while Liara, Aria, Marcus, Kaidan, Javik and Jack ran riot with their biotic abilities. Everybody else poured fire into the enemy troops as they peeked their heads out to fire back at them, although this tactic only managed to pick off several soldiers before they caught on and used the tanks as support while they blind fired at them. The rachni remained hidden around the corner, Marcus not wanting to risk losing too many troops to the well entrenched white and gold bogies.

For close to fifteen minutes, both sides kept each other pinned, neither able to make significant advances. His squad kept the Cerberus company suppressed, while the enemy ensured they couldn't push them back. They were caught in a fluctuating stalemate...at least until now.

Grinning from cheek to cheek, Marcus turned and watched as a wall of krogan commandos charged towards the enemy at breakneck pace, roaring at the top of their lungs. At the front of the enormous display of Tuchankan manpower was a silver armoured krogan that Marcus instantly recognized as Grunt, the krogan wielding his claymore shotgun between his two heavily armoured arms, leading his men towards the promise of fiery glory and mayhem.

And he and his battalion weren't alone. Three squads of Blood Pack mingled amongst the 1st Aralakh Battalion, the familiar color of their crimson red and white standard standing out from the more plain colouring of their UKC counterparts. Vorcha troops hissed and spat, M-8 avenger assault rifles, M-23 katana shotguns, M-3 predator pistols and Punisher SMGs gripped firmly between clawed fingers, their excessively razorsharp canine teeth (that looked more akin to actual knives than teeth) snapping together repetitively as the vorcha chomped them down, eager for a quick meal. Their krogan commanders wore their blood red Thresher combat armor, pointing their vorcha underlings forward and making sure their guns were primed at the only enemy that mattered at that point in time.

It looked as if the Cerberus company had taken notice of the krogan and vorcha stampede heading towards them: how couldn't they? Heads steadily popped out to see what the fuss was about, and Garrus took the opportunity to blow the head off a centurion, along with that of a dragoon. They caught on quickly though, using another dragoon to project a biotic barrier to deflect all further incoming shots, while allowing the Cerberus troops to begin attacking the oncoming krogan battalion. The three tanks redirected their fire as well, with only a few troopers left to keep Shepard's squad pinned...

...a hefty mistake.

While the boom of the three Cerberus tanks opening fire was heard, Marcus motioned for Garrus and Javik to flank him while he moved forward. Motioning to the rest of the squad on the other side, the two moved as one, attacking from both sides. His rifle raised, he immediately swept across the barricades, pulse rifle tearing apart the heads of four troopers in quick succession, blood dripping down the makeshift sheets of steel. Quickly reaching it, Marcus banged against it, the rest of the squad quickly joining them. Marcus quickly reached down to his belt, yanking a grenade free and having his squad do the same. Once he saw they all had grenades out, he primed his and tossed it over the barricade, the rest of them quickly following suit with their own. With all that said and done, Marcus quickly turned to Moses, the towering geth prime crouching beside them to remain.

"Tear down that sheet, Moses," Marcus ordered, quickly backing up with the rest as Moses nodded and stood at his full height, storming forward.

The prime, with an electronic shriek, quickly grabbed the closest piece of metal and roughly tore it from its weak hinges, tossing it aside and exposing the engineer that had been hiding behind it, typing away at his omni-tool. He looked up, barely getting a chance to cry out before Moses swatted him aside, body flying out onto the street, rolling to Garrus' feet. Lowering his mattock, he put two bursts through the engineer's head, painting the ground with his brains.

At this point, their grenades detonated, sending pieces of shrapnel in every direction. Several soldiers wielding grenade launchers were knocked over running away from the blasts, while one of the M28 Angels was forced to reverse to escape any damage. Moses wasted no time in raising his pulse cannon and firing upon said Angel, the vehicle's kinetic barriers lighting up as it ate up the impacts. Marcus and his squad advanced behind them, the N7 captain turning to watch as Aria biotically tore a metal sheet off on their side in a similar manner, all of them charging through their own gap.

The rachni didn't hesitate to take advantage of the new hole in the Cerberus defenses. The insectoid horde swarmed in single file, quickly closing the gap between them and Shepard and gliding through the hole like a plague of locusts. The krogan battalion wasted no time in reaching the barricade themselves, the Cerberus troopers unable to do anything as Grunt whipped out his favourite M-100 Spiculum grenade launcher, complete with notches in the side for each successful blast, and fired at them, causing the dragoon to waver from the direct impact. Growling, the krogan turned to the barricade, took aim with his weapon and fired again. Marcus didn't hang around to see what happened next, moving through to engage the rest of the company.

As he stepped through, he noticed that his squad were already hard at work: strewn around the hole were a dozen fresh corpses, riddled with bullet holes from shotguns and assault rifles. He heard a loud electronic scream once more, turning to watch as Moses raised his arm to block the Angel's turret from swivelling to face him, forcing it in a direction it wasn't turning. Sparks begin to sputter from within as mechanical parts groaned under the pressure, forced to commit to one action while it was being pushed by an external force to do another. The prime eventually won out, reaching under the tank and lifting it up. The turret swung uselessly to the side as the tank was quickly capsized, the prime's servos exerting enormous strength as it rolled over the heavy vehicle.

The IFV landed with a bang and a screech of metal-to-metal contact, the distinct sound of bodies rolling around inside being heard. Its belly exposed (and very much unprotected by shielding), the prime stuck its pulse cannon right under it and fired, hot blasts of molten plasma making short work of the light armor underneath and incinerating the occupants inside, the blasts tearing through the otherside, utterly gutting the tank from the inside out.

While that was going on, the two squad elements joined forces in tearing about the now outflanked Cerberus forces. Debris littered the deck, blood mingling with it as Aria tossed and tore apart troopers with her biotics. Liara reached out with her own to grab the dragoon on the barricade, tearing him down to their level and quickly shooting him in the chest multiple times, killing him. As a result, the troopers on the barricade were now defenseless.

Not that it mattered.

An explosion burst through the center wall as Grunt unloaded one final grenade into it, the explosion sending twisted metal and debris flying inwards, the miniture projectiles forcing the squad to duck down, several troopers not being so lucky as they were showered with it, shredding them with highly deadly, weaponized shards of barricade. The troopers standing on the barricade directly above the blast fell into it, where they were brutally stomped to death by the krogan charging through it, paying the soldiers no mind as the stampeded crushed them under dozens of krogan feet, leaving their feet slick with blood.

A lone centurion stood no chance as a final grenade struck him dead center in the chest, transforming him into over a dozen different servings of raw meat and a jugs of blood, all of which flashed in the air for a mere second before splashing across the deck. Grunt, laughing manaically the entire time, holstered the weapon and grabbed his claymore, sights immediately landing on a grinning Marcus. The krogan's maw stretched into an equally profound smirk, blood dripping down his lips in an almost terrifying display of sadism.

At that point, the battle was over for Cerberus. The company was quickly routed, their proximity within the barricades rendering the tanks useless, and their troops heavily outnumbered. They fell left and right, torn apart and shot to death. Rachni workers swarmed over the lone form of an assault troopers, pincers biting into armor and flesh and tearing it apart. The trooper screamed as he fell to the ground, the workers shredding him from flesh to bone. Krogan cheered as they blasted their shotguns away, and others stomped down on soldiers unlucky enough to retreat like the others. Vorcha screeched hysterically as they unloaded their weapons into the withdrawing enemy, shooting them in the back. As for the tanks...after seeing what Moses did to the first Angel, the remaining tanks were quickly abandoned, men leaping from hatches simply to escape the prime and its explosive rampage.

A battle that had gone for fifteen minutes straight...ended in just over a minute.

Marcus surveyed the combat area after the engagement had ended, looking over the bodies. Easily over eighty dead Cerberus corpses littered the street, the strong scent of blood mixing in with the veritable smorgasbord of devastation. By the time he called the rest of his forces to regroup on him, it quickly dawned on him that Petrovsky hadn't even bothered to send reinforcements to save this company.

_Not a single slice of reinforcement...not a single squad came to help. Did Petrovsky just leave these men to die? Doesn't seem like him, at least not how Aria described him anyway._

There was a squelch accompanied simultaneously by a loud cracking of bones, causing Marcus to turn and see Grunt walking towards him, stepping over the dead cadaver of a dead trooper in the process: the krogan's enormous weight proved too much for the body, hence the cracking. Arriving at Marcus' side, the large krogan commander nodded.

"My men and the Blood Pack are mopping up what's left now," he stated, his lack of a smile providing evidence of his seriousness, "We can press on towards the Tuhi district whenever you're ready."

The spectre nodded, slapping Grunt on the back before pulling his hand back and walking towards Aria, who was currently walking around, checking the bodies to make sure they were all dead, and blasting a shotgun shell into the back of any soldier who wasn't. Arriving behind her, he called out her name, causing her to turn around, a ghost of a smile at the corner of her lips.

"Petrovsky's doing a much poorer job than I had expected," the asari gloated, turning back to a legless nemesis on the ground. Marcus had noticed the slight switch of the head too, and he didn't stop the asari as she pulled the trigger, shotgun shell blasting apart her back and stopping her twitching instantly. She cocked it back, loading a fresh shell into the shotgun before cornering her head to talk to him, "All we've had is a few piss weak attempts at a defense. We've taken his cannons, and he sends a company to hold us down. I honestly thought he was smarter than this."

"Don't get cocky, Aria," he said disapprovingly, shaking his head at the asari, who now holstered her shotgun, "If Petrovsky is as intelligent as you made him out to be, no doubt this is all part of a plan of his. He could be probing us...testing to analyze our tactics, what we're trying to do...or it could all be a diversion. He doesn't always have to attack us directly. You should know that."

She simply shrugged, pushing past him nonchalantly, "I guess you have a point. Still, I wouldn't bet on Petrovsky winning this round. We have his forces on the run. Fragmented and disorganized. Hard to see them regrouping when we're constantly harrying them all the way. What's this now? I think this totals just over three hundred troops of his we've killed so far. Sure, when you've got a force of forty thousand that doesn't mean much, but it's more than I ever achieved in the last war. We're making progress."

He sighed, twirling his finger in the air as a signal for his squad to form back up on him, including Jack and her students, "Well, we stay here and we're just giving them an opportunity to launch a counterattack. The worst target is a mobile target. Let's keep moving," he turned to his krogan friend, "Grunt, take your men and form up on the flanks and the center. My squad will take point, while Aria takes the lead. Blood Pack and rachni, I want you infront of her...we cannot lose Aria or we'll lose our map."

He ignored Aria's obvious glare, the Omegan queen clearly not happy at being referred to as a map. In the end, that's really all she was.  _We're far from friends, Aria. If anyone else better than you had been trying to take Omega from Cerberus, I'd likely be backing them instead. Consider yourself lucky you're all I've got._

Just as he was ready to give the order to move out, Keeling spoke up, the N7 arriving infront of him, "Sir, what about those hangar bays? You said we should torch them to keep Cerberus from using them."

_Keeling's right, I did. And we do have the troops capable of pulling it off now. I'll send a detachment to deal with them._

He turned to EDI, the AI crouched next to the abandoned Thresher tank, scanning the area ahead of them for hostiles, "EDI, can you bring up a schematic of the station? What hangar bays are in this area?"

Without turning to them, she spoke, "Wait a moment. Establishing local connection to internal wireless network. Cerberus firewall protection is extremely robust: I will require assistance to breach the security."

Without needing to be asked, both Kasumi and Tali whipped out their omni-tools and got to work helping the AI, and EDI and Moses were no doubt already aiding each other. With the four of them combined, it wasn't long before EDI spoke once more, "Firewalls breached...searching for schematics. Located. Uploading to omni-tools now, Shepard."

True to her word, the squad's omni-tools pinged loudly as at least 4 terabytes worth of map data were uploaded to their microcomputers, Marcus opening his up and beginning to file through the necessary data.

"The nerve of this asshole!" Aria blurted out angrily, looking at her own copy of the schematics, "He's changed almost everything. He's organized the entire station into these...quadrants. Styx, Hudson, Rhine and Rubicon, with this 'Apex' in the middle, where Afterlife is. No doubt he's converted that area into a fortress. No way we'll breach it, even with our full strength."

"We are currently located in the Rubicon quadrant. According to this information, it is under the jurisdiction of one of Petrovsky's four colonels...Connor Amish," EDI declared, "Unfortunately, we were unable to access information pertaining to troop deployment or tactical data: there is an additional firewall that appears to possess encryption beyond that of Cerberus capabilities."

"It's definitely very well organized," Garrus admitted, "He knows if he controls the station by sectioning it off and giving control to four governors, he won't have to worry about severe micromanagement. From the looks of it, he's created a stable, sustained form of government. That's an alien concept for Omega."

"Got it," Marcus interrupted, quickly bringing up the information he wanted, "There are eleven hangar bays in the Rubicon quadrant alone. In total, that's about forty potential fighters, interceptors, bombers, shuttles and gunships he's got holed up. It's not much, but he'll feel it," he sighed, turning back to his force, trying to decide who best to assign to the task.

Apparently, Grunt was already way ahead of him, turning to his men, "I know just the men for the task. 21st Maw company, we call them. They have an affinity for blowing shit up, which is why we've called them our official..." he slammed a fist into his chest, a symbol of krogan pride, "...demolition team. They'll take care of those hangar bays for us."

A company of ninety krogan stepped forward, each carrying an assortment of explosives and heavy weapons such as M-451 Firestorm flamethrowers, ML-77 Dory missile launchers, M-100 Spiculum grenade launchers and, to Marcus' surprise, one was even carrying an M-920 Cain mini-nuke launcher. All in all, they were lethal looking krogan, and if Grunt had faith in them to get the job done, that was enough for Marcus.

Before he could order her to do so, EDI had already uploaded a copy of the schematics to the krogan company, their own omni-tools pinging loudly. The leader of the 21st Maw, a green armoured krogan in the same A1S medium combat armor that Wrex wore, stepped forward, wielding two missile launchers in his hands, "We'll literally torch those hangars, believe me. Those aircraft will be so torched, Cerberus won't even recognize them."

Marcus grinned at that, giving the krogan commander a simple nod, "Then get to it, Lord Companier."

There wasn't a single word spoken by them following. Like a landslide detaching from the side of a mountain, ninety of the eight hundred strong 1st Aralakh departed back in the direction they came, disappearing around the corner within minutes. All that could be heard afterwards was the stomps of their jogging, and the clatter of their weapons, all of which eventually dissipated after a few minutes. By that time, the rest were already pressing forward, towards Tuhi and Aria's bunker.

They had travelled another six hundred meters, leaving the battle site well behind, when the comms crackled to life, a familiar yet barely heard voice sounding through, "This is Sata T'Loak to all OLF ground forces, please respond. We are currently advancing along Nelius Street, converging upon Delilah. If you can hear this, respond immediately."

Before Marcus could do anything, Aria had already responded, "Sata, this is Aria! We are advancing along Delilah street!" she quickly paused a moment to look at her omni-tool, double checking her data before finishing her response, "Nelius street is two blocks from our location. We should link up soon."

"Copy that, see you in a tick. Sata out."

"Damn it, Bray," Aria cursed, ignoring the look Marcus was giving her, "Told him to take command. Why the hell is Sata leading them?"

"Perhaps she knows how to lead," Marcus chimed in.

Aria scoffed at the notion, bearly affording him a glance, as if afraid it would give credence to his suggestion, "She's the equivalent of an embryo by asari standards."

That got Marcus interested, and he shared a look with Tali, now jogging beside him, who seemed equally shocked, but simply shrugged. Turning back, he gulped, licking his lips as he addressed the asari again, "Uh...just how old  _is_ Sata?"

Aria sighed, as if the question irritated her, "She's six years old, Shepard."

There was silence afterwards, Marcus soaking up the information with a somewhat awkward stride. Eventually, it was Liara who spoke up, the asari meekly adding her own two cents.

"Well...I certainly don't remember picking up a gun until I was 30," she stated, nodding her head awkwardly, "But...I guess I was...fully capable of...doing so...if I wanted..."

"Asari grow  _that_ quickly?" James piped up.

"Krogan take at least six years to even reach half her size," Grunt grumbled.

"In my cycle, it took an extra four years for them to reach her size," Javik jested, a smug grin on his face, "It appears the asari have at least evolved in that aspect."

"So asari grow quickly...who gives a fuck?" Aria spouted, obviously very bothered by this conversation, "I'm more concerned with her leading troops that I specifically told Bray to lead. Stupid brat never listens to me."

"Keelah, I certainly hope we never treat our children like that," Tali whispered over their private comm.

Marcus smiled, "Well, would you want our six year old kid leading teams of mercenaries in a military assault?"

"Point taken."

A minute or so later they arrived at Nelius street. Not a moment too soon either, as the form of an asari wielding an M-25 Hornet SMG arrived under the corner, leading at least ninety of Aria's personal mercenary forces, with the rest of the Blood Pack battalion, two Blue Suns battalions and two Eclipse battalions not far behind. He instantly recognized Dreg and Bray among them, with Ahz behind a large group of batarians. The group immediately raised their weapons at the group until recognizing who they were and lowering them, Sata motioning for Bray to instruct them to do so.

Angrily, Aria stormed up to Bray, getting right in his face, "I specifically remember putting you in charge, Bray. So why is it Sata seems to be speaking on your behalf and you're taking orders from her?"

The batarian shrugged, seeming almost entirely unbothered by the whole situation, "We ran into a few Cerberus squads. I wasn't a very good leader, she was. The decision was unanimous, Aria. She saved our asses."

"Don't be too angry, mother," Sata gleamed, amused by her maternal parent's anger, "I know me taking careful of myself makes you very upset, but it is nevertheless true. Don't give yourself an aneurism thinking about it."

"Get fucked, you stupid brat," Aria waved her off dismissively, annoyed by her daughter's actions but nonetheless undeterred by it, "You want to lead, fine. Just don't come crying for help if you're getting overwhelmed."

Sata just shrugged, "That's fine. I'm sure Captain Shepard will be far more accomodating."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Let's just get moving."

" _Definitely_ not treating our kids like that," Tali once again joked.

"Point taken."

"A moment, captain," Sata requested, drawing the commander's attention, "We've noted some unusual Cerberus activity. Our last engagement with them...well, they didn't attack us directly. The only reason we came across them at all was because they were retreating in a direction we were headed in. In fact, every single Cerberus unit we've come across so far has been retreating. Not a single direct engagement."

A sigh, followed by Marcus turning to Aria with a raised eyebrow, "See what I mean? That company we fought was just a diversion. They were keeping us occupied while their forces regrouped. Petrovsky appears to have outwitted us."

"This gives us an advantage as much as it gives them one," Dreg pointed out, all of their attention now drawn to the krogan mercenary, "Without Cerberus to oppose us, we can reach the bunker without a problem. I say we use that."

The spectre found himself agreeing with Dreg, nodding in acknowledgement, "A good point. We should keep moving to Tuhi. First though, I'm going to contact General Zaal'Golo and see where they are at."

Wasting no time, he quickly established a line with the quarian/geth army, making sure the broadcast was clear, "General Golo, this is Captain Shepard. We've got everybody here except you and the rest of the rachni. What's your status?"

Thankfully, General Golo replied immediately, sounding entirely unbothered, "This is General Golo. All geth and quarian forces under my command are accounted for. The rachni have deployed the rest of their forces ahead of us and are clearing a path straight to the bunker. What's your location, over?"

"Delilah street, Zeta District, how about you?"

A sigh. "Afmer Avenue, Fulmuk District. We...might be a while. But from the looks of it, not as long as we thought. We have the Cerberus forces in complete retreat."

Marcus shook his head, soon coming to realize just how thorough Petrovsky's evacuation was, "No deed of ours unfortunately, General. Petrovsky kept us pinned while he evacuated his troops. You'll likely running into a delaying action soon enough. Find a way around it and link up with us. Do not attempt to engage the enemy forces! We need to reach the bunker ASAP," he turned to EDI and nodded, "You'll be getting schematics of the station soon enough. Should lead you straight to Tuhi. Good luck and hope to see you soon."

"Understood, captain. Ancestors watch over you," was the General's response before the line was cut.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's take advantage," Aria whipped out her shotgun, running into a jog, "Try to keep up, all of you!"

With Sata and her forces now at their side, the 8,700 strong force of krogan, rachni, mercenaries and  _Normandy_ crew quickly advanced down the street, their numbers making it so they stretched along the street in a long, angled column stretching over a kilometer. They jogged for what felt like hours, but in fact was only mere minutes, running down the same, featureless street of dull decking and intense, disgusting stenches. Aria led them of course, making sure they were actually going in the right direction: although, with the schematics of the station now in their possession, perhaps they didn't need her in that regard for much longer.

Finally, however, the group soon came across something truly unexpected.

Rounding the corner, Aria came to a complete stop, muttering under her breath, "What in the actual fuck..."

Marcus, frowning in response to her own confusion, picked up the pace, rushing ahead of his squad to see what the bafflement was all about.

Following her gaze, he found it two blocks away. Blocking off the rest of the street, reaching from the ground to the rooftops, was a massive, barely transparent field of bristling orange energy, its coverage covering each and every inch and connected to two large pylons on either side, which appeared to emit the field. With most of the skycars inactive and unusable, it was clear this was somekind of force field to keep the population segregated.

_But why?_

"Petrovsky really has been busy," Aria cursed, body rigid and shaking with irritation, "Why the hell wasn't this on the schematics? There wasn't any mention of a fucking force field."

"It's possible the information pertaining it was deliberately omitted to make it harder for invading forces or a civilian uprising to coordinate across the station. We also do not not know the extent of it. It's possible this force field is a singular entity, and it's also possible there are more like it all over Omega," EDI responded simply.

"Either way," Marcus piped up, shaking his head at it, "I don't want to risk finding out its capabilities. I say we find a way around."

The street looked otherwise empty. The force field stood in the middle of an empty area, its vigil uninterrupted or permeated with the presence of those who would wish to penetrate it. It simply sizzled away, crackling energy wrapped firmly between the two pylons powering it, daring those foolish enough to step through it. The technology also seemed suspiciously familiar, as had the technology behind those cannons...

_Makes sense, too. Omega's right next door to the Omega 4 Relay. If they ever wanted quick access to pieces of remaining Collector technology left from the base, that'd be the way to do it. No doubt used it to create those particle cannons and to make these force fields. If so, there'll likely be both impenetrable and incapable of being disabled from this end._

Just before Marcus gave the order for his forces to withdraw and find a way around, Aria raised her finger, pointing at the forcefield, "Shepard, watch out! The fuckers are getting ballsy."

Marcus turned to see that Cerberus had indeed grown bold. From the other side, they could see the blurry outlines of a Cerberus squad jogging towards the barrier, a centurion in the lead with countless numbers of assault troopers behind him. At this flank, three on each side of him, were a type of enemy he had never seen before, but he was unable to be sure due to the barrier's borderline opaqueness, with their outlines blurred and rippling due to the energy in the force field constantly shifting.

They stopped just short of the barrier, simply staring at Marcus and his forces. He stared back, wondering what game they were playing just standing there.

_What are they up to-?_

Then, as if it had never been there, the forcefield simply disappeared, the pylons dimming significantly as the orange field evaporated, leaving nothing in the wake of it. The Cerberus squad charged forth, immediately opening fire on their enemy. The figures on the centurion's flank were revealed to actually be mechs. Heavily armoured LOKI looking mechs wielding M-22 Eviscerator shotguns and with tech armor active, the mechs stalked forward, glaring down at them with intense, glowing red optics that looked almost angry. They did not open fire, simply stalking forward slowly in a perfect line, moving towards them with a casual, almost predatory, walk.

Marcus ordered the rest of his forces to open fire. The Blood Pack squad immediately behind him didn't hesitate to charge past him, three krogan in the lead, close to sixteen vorcha behind them, hissing and howling. The combined gunfire of a dozen Blue Suns legionnaires and several Eclipse vanguards mowed down five of the assault troopers instantly, even giving the centurion pause. It appeared he was learning very quickly that he had made a huge mistake trying to confront 8,000 soldiers with a small squad, and began to back up as quickly as he deployed, ordering his troops to do the same.

Another assault trooper fell as one of the charging Blood Pack krogan blasted off his right leg, followed by his head being blown off by the vorcha behind him, wielding a Punisher SMG between its claws. The squad was decimated within seconds by the Blood Pack alone, with only a few vorcha falling to the gunfire of the centurion, making sure to shoot them in the heads so that the vorcha's regeneration couldn't kick in.

With the squad retreating, the centurion firing one final shot from his mattock at them before turning and running, all that was left was those...mechs.

Who simply stopped in place, unmoving, staring down the growling Blood Pack as they continued to run towards them, undeterred.

The three krogan infront charged at the mechs in single file, shouting triumphantly as their coming victory seemingly rushed towards them...

...then, with a grace seemingly only capable of phantoms or drell assassins. The six of them strafed out of the way of the krogan charge, allowing them to storm past uselessly. Turning back, one mech raised its shotgun and blew the head off one of the vorcha soldiers, head reduced to a bloody stump of flesh and bone, their hissing cut short as red blood permeated their introduction to the cold, hard deck.

Another mech drew an omni-blade and decapitated one vorcha, before slicing up another up along its chest in an uppercut, causing its guts to spill out of its chest and collapse forward, its loud shrieks turning to a low, dormant growl. The third vorcha's arm was blown off trying to claw at the mech, who then pinned its shotgun under the vorcha's jaw and blew its head off.

"Return to your homes immediately," one mech ordered, firing into another vorcha, taking six shells before finally putting it down. Its voice was far more electronic than even the Cerberus troopers' voice modulators, sounding more akin to a geth than its LOKI counterpart, "You will not be asked again."

He frowned at that, despite him raising his rifle in preparation to open fire on the mechs who were so methodically tearing apart the Blood Pack boom squad.  _Must be used for law enforcement. For mechs, they're awfully good at hand-to-hand. And they look like the standard LOKI. Possible that Cerberus simply upgraded them for use as a police force. Smart._

Having successfully slaughtered all sixteen of the vorcha, their corpses littered across the deck and bloodying the deck with a river of crimson, the six mechs returned to their original formation, twisting on the spot to face the three krogan they had neglected to address...

...something they soon regretted. One mech was tackled to the ground, while another's head was shredded by dozens of bullets poured into it by a second krogan's M-9 Usurper assault rifle. The third used an omni-bow to stagger another mech, before flash forging it into an omni-blade, ramming it up through the side of the mech's head, causing it to cease all movement instantly, dropping its shotgun uselessly to the ground.

Marcus lowered his rifle, realizing the three krogan seemed to have it in the bag. Garrus positioned his sniper rifle and fired, the report of it echoing across the street as the high velocity round slammed through the optics of the fourth mech, downing it instantly and sending it flying dead onto its back with a clang, shotgun still clamped between its steel, mechanized fingers.

The krogan that had tackled one of the mechs to the floor continually bashed its fists into the sides of the mech's head, who stuttered and coughed as it tried to speak, its words coming out jarbled as its voice box was subjected to constantly escalating damage. In a last attempt to save itself, it rammed its omni-blade into the krogan's side, right into his belly. This only enraged the krogan, who stopped his bashing to reach under the mech's head, tearing upwards until the head was ripped free, circuits sparking and spitting as they were forcefully disconnected from their respective nodes in the mech's skull. He slammed the head into the ground, irreversibly denting it inwards and crushing the machinery inside, before letting go, ripping the mech's arm out of its socket and tossing it away, orange blood leaking from his side where the gaping wound had been created.

The two remaining mechs fired their shotguns into the krogan's back, who cried as the shells penetrated his shields and slammed into his back, tearing through his armor and piercing flesh. This still didn't put the krogan down, who slapped his hand down on the destroyed mech's shotgun, picking it up, whirling around and firing three shots into the nearest mech, watching as its tech armor exploded violently. The EMP blast caused the shotgun to jam up, so he tossed it aside and charged the mech. The mech danced out of the way, but having learnt from last time, the krogan reached out, grabbing the mech as he went past and dragging it with, feet leaving the ground.

Within several moments, the three Blood Pack krogan had destroyed the six mechs, despite said mechs having wiped out their squad. Marcus ordered a ceasefire as they watched the centurion and the four remaining assault troopers retreat towards the forcefield, eager to get back behind it before the three angry krogan caught up.

The injured krogan, along with his two comrades, turned at the sound of their footsteps, and in their blood rage, disregarded all sense of thought and reasoning: they charged after them. But Marcus knew even from his distance that the krogan wouldn't reach the retreating soldiers before they passed that barrier.

But it was too late to stop them. Marcus watched from a distance as the surviving soldiers successfully ran past the line of the field, which activated a mere second later, the orange field springing back to life and reengaging the divide it forcefully forged. The three krogan were unable to halt their momentum however, and with their blood rage in full beast mode, they could only howl and growl in fury as they reached the field.

First, he heard the screams. He winced at the sound of them, realizing that even krogan could scream in agony, and that the sound itself is mind-piercingly shattering, wracking his eardrums and echoing within his mental sphere. His squad seemed to wince at the sound too, with even Aria looking sympathetic at what they saw.

The krogan screams continued as the three krogan steamrollers became the victim of steamrolling, their contact with the field proving to be lethal. They moment they touched it, their skin had immediately begun to peel back and blacken. Fire sparked along their bodies, licking up their forms and drenching them in soaring flame, their skin continue to peel and smolder, eyes popping and blood boiling them alive from the inside.

And all of that happened in three seconds.

It was over so quickly. One moment, they were on fire, screaming and burning away. The next moment, they had broken down into ashes, three neat piles lined up next to the field, smoke trailing up from them as the krogan were essentially cremated via their impact with the forcefield. All it took was those three, harrowing seconds.

"Poor idiots," Aria mumbled.

Behind the field, the forms of the surviving Cerberus troopers got smaller and less distinct as they continued their retreat, knowing their barrier would keep the UGC from pursuing them.

Grunt arrived on Marcus' right, echoing the thoughts of everyone in their company, "Something tells me this force field isn't the only one on the station. If this General was clever, he'd have these damn things spread all over the place...effective crowd control."

"Agreed," Sata acknowledged, coming to stand next to the krogan supersoldier, "And it doesn't look like they're always active either. Their ability to switch them on and off at their own leisure gives them a significant advantage. With these, they could split our forces in two at any time...cut us off from each other. Divide and conquer."

"Shit, you're right," Marcus admitted, quickly contacting General Golo, finding himself, thankfully, getting a stable connection fast, "General, this is Shepard. Have you encountered any force fields yet?"

"Yes, but we found a way around it," Golo replied, "It's likely going to make our trip slightly longer, but we're getting there. Why, similar encounter?"

"You could say that..." a brief glance at the ash piles spoke volumes more than what words could ever describe, "Just make sure to get to Tuhi and keep me updated of any further developments. Shepard out." More aggressively than usual, he clapped the comm on the side of his helmet to turn it off.

Aria did not fail to notice the motion, "Frustrated, Shepard? Welcome to the club."

He glared at her, waving a dismissive hand, "You're damn right I'm pissed, Aria. We're being yanked around by these assholes. Every street seems to have a death trap waiting for us. An entrenched Cerberus company and now a force field that vaporizes people when you touch it. What's next? Maybe a machine gun test with bullets that indoctrinate on contact? Maybe a Reaper army?"

"That's a bit far fetched, Marcus," Kaidan jested.

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head as his hands landed on his hips in irritation, rifle magnetically attached to his hip, "We've fought a giant Reaper shaped in the form of a human, Kaidan. We've seen a giant thresher maw that krogan worship as a god. I'm at the point where a husk wanting to defect or the Illusive Man revealing that he just wanted to turn Omega into a glorified, military circus wouldn't even faze me."

"That's imaginative and all, but that doesn't really help us," Bray sarcastically stated, waving annoyingly at the field, "There has to be a way around this field. The General can't have been  _that_ methodical. He's only had seven months on this station."

"Then perhaps we can help each other out."

Every single one of Aria's men, aside from Sata, raised their weapons at once, taking aim directly at the hooded figure of a female turian that had suddenly appeared near them. Their voice was distinctively feminine, despite the flang that was existent in all turian voices. Marcus and his squad turned to them without raising a single weapon, with even Aria lowering her shotgun after a moment. Behind the figure were two injured humans and two turians in battle armor, all of it scarred and potmarked with scrapes and bullet holes. They raised their weapons as well, while the hooded figure didn't move an inch to draw their own.

Marcus had no idea who the person infront of them was, but it appeared Aria did, as a range of emotions, with mixes of shock and anger, flashed across the asari's features in that moment, "Nyreen? What the shit?"

"Glad to see you recognize me," the turian reached back and pulled down their hood, revealing their red facepainted expression, eyes locking onto Marcus before giving a brief nod, stare quickly returning to Aria, "Although, I guess I should be surprised you did at all. Its been a long time, Aria."

Holstering her shotgun, Aria sneered at the turian, storming up to her and pointing a finger in her face. To Nyreen's credit, she barely flinched, staring the asari force of nature down like she was used to being in such a compromising position, "Five fucking years, Nyreen. What the hell are you doing here?"

Nyreen shrugged, motioning for the men behind her to lower their weapons. They did so immediately, seeming to be under her command. Marcus signalled for Bray and the others to reciprocate, and they soon followed suit, "Playing cat and mouse, mostly. Just trying to stay alive. If it wasn't for those tunnels..." her mandibles split into the turian equivalent of a grin, crossing her arms, "...well, you did me a solid there, Aria. You've really helped our war effort here on Omega. Not to mention that your...unexpected return has certainly raised a few eyebrows, mine especially. I thought the UGC had forgotten about us. You were always going to return Aria, but I never thought you'd bring them with you."

Aria shook her head, stepping back after a moment, "I pulled some favours," she turned to Marcus, motioning him forward. Walking forward cautiously, he stopped beside the asari, who Nyreen turned to, eyes running a line up and down his form, appraising him, "This is Captain Shepard, the man of the hour. He's the one I've enlisted to help me lead this campaign. We're retaking Omega, Nyreen."

The turian chuckled, "I didn't think you were here to give him the grand tour, Aria: your intentions are plain. My job is to assess whether Omega wants you back."

Aria crossed her arms, glaring at the turian uncompromisingly, the two of them seeming to forget about Shepard almost instantly, "That's hilarious, Nyreen. You disappeared. Left the station. Why did you come back?"

"Truth is...I never left," the turian admitted, "I wanted to disappear, so I did. But I wasn't going to let you continue to exploit and hurt the innocent. Your little dirty bomb reminded me of what you really are. Good thing I stayed too...when Petrovsky chased you off the station, I was the only leadership left willing to stop Cerberus. I've been leading our guerilla war against them for seven months while you...did what you did. I have to admit, it wasn't one we were winning. Not until you showed up, anyway."

Marcus finally chimed into the question, raising his voice to gain Nyreen's attention, "So you must be a member of this rebellion we've heard about."

Nyreen nodded, "We're called the Talons. And I'm not just a member...I'm their leader. These men respect me and I've turned them into a respectable fighting force. They're no longer the drug-running scum they used to be. Now they're actually reliable. I trust my life in the hands of these men."

"The Talons?" Garrus spoke up from behind them, "I've heard of them before. They were the biggest players on Omega, second only to Aria. If anyone could have usurped her, it was them. Fighting for the little people and waging guerilla warfare doesn't seem like their usual MO. Where is Derius, may I ask? My old squad owed him several bullets to the skull."

Nyreen laughed, rubbing her neck, "Sorry to say I beat them to the punch. Derius was a piece of shit who was never going to change. I killed him and took over just before the Cerberus occupation. Well timed, actually. Gave me time to reshape the Talons and use them for good. I was planning on turning them into a police force...but Cerberus changed all of that."

"Police? On Omega? On  _my_ station?" Aria emphasized cynically, giggling a little to herself at the prospect, "Oh, Nyreen. You're just as naive as when we last saw each other. Ever the idealist. You and Shepard will make great friends."

Nyreen shook her head, disappointed with the asari but nonetheless unbothered by her antics, "Hate to remind you Aria, but this isn't your station anymore. Petrovsky is the boss around here, and he appears to be a far better ruler than you ever were. It's...actually a shame that I'm fighting to take him down. If he weren't Cerberus, I'd be almost content with him ruling this place."

"Why's that?" Marcus asked, eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

"You've probably heard all the propaganda about relief shelters and how Talons who give themselves up will get clemency and be allowed to return to everyday life as a civilian," Nyreen stated, earning a nod from both himself and Aria. She sighed, "That's the thing: it's not propaganda. I've seen these shelters for myself. I've had reports of Talons who I've recruited that had second thoughts and gave themselves up...so far, Petrovsky's stayed true to his word. Every soldier who's given himself up was shown mercy, and the Cerberus fleet was ferrying in fresh food and supplies on a constant basis. The people of Omega were being treated well. I think that's why the riots stopped. Nobody but the Talons were even fighting anymore."

"Sounds like your kind of man, Nyreen," Aria poked sarcastically, "Loves civilians, has a moral compass that often makes him an pretentiously arrogant boy scout...I'm surprised you haven't practically married each other. Why fight him if your morals are so perfectly fucking aligned?"

The turian motioned at her, "Roughly the same reason the UGC is here. Cerberus can't be allowed to have this station, and Petrovsky practically bleeds white and gold. I have to remind myself that he wears that horrific golden hexagon everyday so that I know who we're fighting. Helps to remind me that the Talons aren't the bad guys, even though shades of grey paint the walls everywhere. It is egregiously difficult to keep fighting an enemy that you morally agree with. That's what these seven months have been like...moral hell."

"Enough of the small talk," Aria spat, waving a hand at the forcefield ahead of them, "You said you could help us get around this barrier. How exactly do you propose doing that?"

"Simple," the turian responded, pointing to an alleyway on her right, "That's the route I took...goes right around the forcefield and straight to the Tuhi district. I could lead you there, if you want. There's a Cerberus regiment forming up a defensive line nearby, but the direction we're going isn't anywhere near them, so we should be safe."

"Wait, how did you know where we were going?" Aria asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes, "Have you been following us?"

"Along the rooftops, yes. Had to be sure of your intentions. I'm still not sure you're what's good for Omega, but I can't exactly afford to turn away a powerful ally...especially when our fight has been doing ever so poorly. You're a welcome boon. I don't trust you, but I trust that Shepard wouldn't be here unless it was absolutely necessary, so that'll have to do. Now, I'm offering you help...do you want it or not?"

Aria sighed, shaking her head as she turned to Marcus, rubbing her temples, "What do you say, Shepard? Trust her or not?"

"Well, she isn't wearing white and gold armor and I can't exactly say I've seen or heard of aliens joining Cerberus," he shrugged, grabbing his rifle and letting it collapse into his hands. He turned to Nyreen, nodding, "So...lead the way."

The turian nodded to him, unholstering the Pugio III heavy pistol at her hip and checking to make sure it was loaded before turning to leave...

...only for a bundle of blue to suddenly wrap their arms around the turian, hugging them tightly. Marcus, confused, turned to see Aria hadn't moved an inch, simply turning away and looking decidedly embarassed.

Nyreen was much more welcoming, twisting in the asari's grip to wrap her own arms around her, returning the embrace, "Good to see you too, kid."

Sata eventually pulled away, wiping her eyes of the tears forming there, "Mum said you left us. That you abandoned us. Why did you leave?"

Nyreen spared Aria a glance, but she refused to return it, giving the turian female no choice but to turn back, mandibles twitching as she thought of a response. Eventually, she simply lightly tapped Sata's shoulder, shaking her head, "It...your mother and I had a falling out. She did some things I found morally questionable. I couldn't be with her anymore. It wasn't you, it was me and her. All you need to know is that I've never stopped loving you...you're still my kid, Sata. I'm still your father."

This caused Marcus' eyes to widen, looking between Aria and Nyreen repeatedly, before finally landing on Sata herself, who did not notice his look.

_Wait, Nyreen and Aria were...more than friends? Nyreen's the mate Aria was referring to?_

"I know, dad. Somehow, I knew," Sata sighed, unholstering her SMG, "It's...great to see you again. We'll have to talk some more after all this is over."

Nyreen laughed, rubbing the top of the asari's head playfully, "Sure will, Sata. I imagine your mother has gotten up to a ton of mischief since I've been gone. You'll have to tell me all about i-"

"I love reunions. I really do," Aria spoke up, making herself loud enough to be heard over both of them, drawing both of their attention. Gripping her shotgun, she walked towards them, brushing through the middle and walking towards the alley with an almost angered stomp in her step, "But we're in the middle of a  _fucking warzone._  So unless you want to all die, let's leave the reunions 'till later and get to my fucking bunker while Petrovsky is still unaware it exists."

"Right. Exactly," Nyreen cleared her throat awkwardly, turning to her own men and directing them forward to join Aria before turning to the rest of them, "Well...uh...follow me."

Marcus just smirked, turning to Tali and wiggling his eyebrows, "What an interesting family. A turian rebel, an asari queen and a guntoting six-year old daughter. Maybe our son can be a geth?"

He could practically  _hear_ the quarian rolling her eyes, "Keelah...let's not. And you better not leave me to go start a rebellion against the Council on the Citadel because I will be greatly displeased."

"Who? Me?" he pointed at himself comedically, "Oh...I would  _never_."

"I can hear...Every. Fucking. Word," Aria growled.

Realizing they hadn't switched to their private comm, the two of them acted like nothing happened, awkwardly gripping their weapons and aiming them forward as they followed Nyreen towards the alleyway.

When noone was looking, Tali switched to their private comm, "Idiot! They heard all of that!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Every. Single. Word."

"I know!"

"Imbecile!"

"I know!"

"Idiotic bosh'tet!"

"I get it!"

They argued all the way up down the alleyway...this time without anyone else hearing them.

_**A/N:** _

_**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Finished ME:A on Thursday, and I have to say I really liked it. Ending was epic, and I love the squad roster with the exception of Liam and Cora. Before anyone asks, I romanced Vetra and regret nothing. Just wished there would be a better romance scene for her. So far, if this series becomes another continuous saga, Vetra seems set to be the next Tali!** _

_**Until next time,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	67. I Am His Instrument, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petrovsky confirms to Banes, Randall and Leng that the Illusive Man has sent reinforcements: he then reveals his plan to wage a war of attrition until they arrive. Shepard and Aria plan to launch a surgical strike on Afterlife, hoping to end the war early.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:**

**I AM HIS INSTRUMENT PART TWO**

_August 5, 2186_

_1722 hours._

_Command Center, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_General Oleg Petrovsky, Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng._

Overall, given the severity of the situation they had just extracted themselves from...things could have been much worse.

Broken, dented helmet under arm, Randall walked out of the barracks rugged and pointedly, long sweeping steps carrying him across the large distance fairly quickly. Plastic cup in hand, sloshing with water, he brought it up to his lips, raising his head as he downed the cup in one gulp before crushing it between his cybernetically augmented fingers and tossing the twisted appendage onto the ground, carrying little for where it landed or what happened to it.

B company's retreat had been uneventful and uninterrupted. Having received and understood Petrovsky's withdrawal order, and Leng put in his place, their retreat had been executed in a quick and orderly manner, with his men heeding his orders without complaint, objection or disgust. Leng's pride was a stick well snapped, the jagged edges of said snapped stick hanging out as a hazard to those who got too close. But Leng had followed their retreat regardless, sucking in his dignity, biting his tongue and remaining silent the entire trip back to the Dyuko District. Just as Randall wanted it.

_He's already made a fool of himself once. He won't be so foolish as to question me again._

When they finally returned to the barracks, B company was a broken shell. Wittled down by the Talon ambushes, well over sixty percent of the unit had been killed, their bodies left behind as a testament to their sacrifice. The thirty men that were left were quickly dispersed for rest, Randall telling them they had earned it before promoting the highest ranking survivor (a guardian, no less) to its new CO, given the former's death in battle. Randall didn't even have time to strip his armor, drop his weapons or even discard his helmet before Petrovsky had learnt of their return and immediately ordered him to report to HQ for a briefing.

The General had been very particular about that.  _Briefing, not debriefing. A new mission already? Perhaps Petrovsky has found a way to subvert their lines or is sending us to disrupt Talon operations in the Styx sector._

Leng wasn't far behind Randall: the General had also ordered him to tag along, wanting him to be present for the briefing. Randall wasn't one to question orders, so he had been quick to summon the assassin, motioning for him to follow before practically storming from the barracks, leaving his company to their well earned, if not brief, rest and relaxation. So, even as Randall made distance between himself and the barracks, Leng was not far behind, making sure to keep out of sight and out of mind, likely for his own sake than for any care of Randall's preferences.

_Still serves my interest not to have to look at him. Pathetic excuse of a man. Irresponsible and immature to let something like jealously get in the way of a mission. He's a former N7, and yet you would think he's a regular grunt the way he acts and behaves. All he does is highlight another incompetency of the Alliance._

The fact that an SIA Corsair could defeat 'the best of the best' in hand-to-hand combat so quickly was more than insulting, it was absolutely inconceivable. Shepard probably gave Randall a better fight, although Randall guessed that would only inflame a sense of irony if he were to mention that.

_So focused on killing Shepard to fix his ego: make himself feel better and less insecure. He's pissed off the Illusive Man favoured Shepard over him. He's pissed off that, in a different world and a different reality, Shepard would be the Illusive Man's go-to man...not him._

But Leng had his uses. So until the day when the Illusive Man ordered Randall to put him down, he would bite down his personal issues with the assassin and work with him...after all, they were supposed to be on the same side, working towards the same goals.

_We share the same insignia and nothing else, in reality._

Colonel Farland's fortifications looked to be near completion: his troops had worked around the clock to ensure HQ was reinforced by the heaviest defenses imaginable. Numerous armoured vehicles, mortar emplacements, machine gun tests, sentry turrets, heavy turrets, Atlas mechs and soldiers lined the established perimeter, easily over five to a thousand troops already stationed outside the entrance to the HQ, all of them either in defensive positions or on patrol. Only one Atlas mech was active, facing the barracks and barely moving, its only movement being the sway of his massive gun or the slight rotation of its cumbersome torso.

Marching past four RAMPART mechs standing and facing his direction in a stoic, immovable stance, he managed to guide his own way through the mess of sandbags and weaponry, he slid past an active Steelhead turret, the trooper controlling it standing ontop of its pedestal, hands gripping the triggers and leaning back slightly as he rotated the gun back and forth in a semi-circular sway. After finally navigating past the first three lines of defenses, Randall finally reached the interior, giving him a straight shot to New Order's entrance, despite the sheer mass of infantry gathered around. Even Leng managed to keep pace with the manhunter despite all of that, although he ultimately pinned it on the assassin being trained to keep track of targets regardless of circumstance, and therefore reserved any deserved credit.

_He'll earn my respect when he actually shows me he can compose himself, follow orders and kill the targets he's tired to kill. Until then, he's just a tool, nothing else._

He ascended the steps in a hurried manner, hoping to not keep the General waiting any longer than he had to. There were eight assault troopers at the top of the steps, with a dragoon in the middle. Before he could tap the haptic interface and step through however, the dragoon in question held his hand out and bumped the major back, quickly moving to step infront of him.

"General Petrovsky has ordered that all non-senior Cerberus personnel are to remain outside New Order HQ while operations are being conducted, trooper. Move along," the nameless biotic ordered, crossing his arms.

Randall, unperturbed, stepped forth, standing right infront of the dragoon, looking down at him, "I'm Major Randall Ezno, Manhunter of Cerberus, and one of the Illusive Man's top agents. I'm not only senior personnel, but I was requested here by General Petrovsky himself, who wishes to brief both me and my compatriot, Agent Kai Leng, immediately. Every moment you keep me waiting here wastes his time."

The dragoon immediately snapped a salute, before strafing to the right, motioning to the door, "Apologies, Major. Just following protocol: the General ordered us to be very thorough. He was very clear on non-criticial personnel, sir. You may step through."

Stepping forth and tappng the interface, watching the large door slide open and immediately introducing him to the long corridor leading into the command center, Randall nodded, returning the salute, allowing the Cerberus biotic to lower his own hand, "No apologies necessary, trooper. As you were."

Turning back, he continued his long strides through the corridor, Leng no doubt right on his feet, although the major didn't waste time in turning to check. Reaching the other door, he opened it and quickly strode through, ignoring the glances of the three colonels inside who quickly turned to him upon arrival. None of them questioned his appearance, simply returning to their duties as they coordinated Omega's defense.

Looking up, Randall could see that Petrovsky was up in his personal war room, so he adjusted his approach accordingly, making speed for the stairs ascending to his roost. As he approached the top however, he noticed that the General was talking to someone, and from the snippets of conversation that he heard more and more of as he completed his advance, he knew who too.

"That's good to hear, colonel," Petrovsky stated, "With the defenses completed up here, we can begin to look elsewhere. Notably, the situation in the Rubicon quadrant. Colonel Amish is most eager to be self-sufficient in that regard, but I'm sure I do not need to emphasize upon you the importance of his victory. His defeat is our defeat, colonel. An army is nothing without its cohesion. I must be sure your regiments are doing all they can to contain this threat, not just focusing on the Talons."

Moving through the door, Randall simply stood to attention, hands in parade rest and head held high. He noticed the General turn to acknowledge him, giving him an appreciative nod as the major simply stood back and waited. Leng stormed in a moment later, opening his mouth to speak. Upon noticing this, the manhunter's left hand shot up, hold up a single fist. Thankfully, the assassin got the point and remained quiet, although refused to assume as professional and respectful a stance as Randall had and leaned up against the wall on the far left, sighing quietly to himself as he, with the look of a bored child, watched the conversation between the two commanders with muted interest.

To be fair though, the affairs of leadership and battle tactics were not where Leng's skillset lay.  _Perhaps that's why the Illusive Man ended up reconsidering Leng's ever so brief command of the Deliverance and handed it to Banes. Leng's just not cut out for leadership. He's no Shepard._

Randall inwardly laughed.  _There's no avoiding comparisons with Shepard when it comes to Leng. Perhaps now I can understand the assassin's frustration somewhat: everything he does gets compared to Shepard, one way or another. In the end, he creates the misery that taints his own existence. After all, his lack of success is attributed to the fact that he won't put aside his personal hatreds for the sake of success._

The colonel in question, Kirk Farland, nodded in response to the General's seemingly interrogative-like questioning, going so far as to meet the General's gaze of scrutiny as he spoke, responding immediately to his questions instead of leaving pauses for Petrovsky to gauge any sort of hesitance, "General, I have my men running around the clock to ensure we are both impregnable and responsive. We will show the people that we can keep them safe as well as hold our territory. I have the 2nd established outside, but I have the 1st, 3rd and 4th making sweeps through all quadrants checking for further UGC incursions. If they have the opportunity to flank or be flanked, my men will find it, neutralize it or take advantage of it. Rest assured, none of us remain idle. The citizens of Omega will soon be made aware of our might. We may not have a fleet, but we very much have boots on the ground."

Petrovsky nodded, looking impressed but not too much so as to possibly inflate Farland's ego, "I'm glad to hear that, but do not be too confident. Remember, Shepard has defeated Cerberus forces several times before. The difference lies in how we respond. Strategy is the key, Colonel. Now go...strategize. I want to be kept up to date on your movements and decisions. If you find a weaknes...by all means, exploit it. If you find a strength, by all means, warn us. But I want you to inform me all the same. I cannot help you if I don't know what's going on."

Farland gave a crisp salute, "It will be done."

Turning away, Petrovsky approached his desk, retrieving one of his datapads, "You are dismissed, Colonel Farland."

Randall stepped to the side briefly as the colonel walked past, door closing behind him and leaving the three alone. Having recovered his datapad, Petrovsky approached the manhunter and held it out to him. Frowning, he grabbed it from the man's meaty hand, twisting it around so he could read it properly, eyes squinted the entire time. All of this was done in complete silence.

After a moment, Randall shrugged, looking back up at Petrovsky, who looked to be waiting for the man to finish and offer his opinion, "I don't understand the point of this, General. All this does is reiterate what I already know: we retreated."

The General shook his head, back ram rod straight and head lowered the entire time, always telegraphing his military history in every movement he made, from the tensing of his muscular frame to the clear, crisp and collected way he delivered his decrees, "I showed you this to help you understand  _why_ we retreated, not the fact itself. I don't delve in obviousness, major. I want you to understand that no opportunity was wasted in our retreat. It had a military purpose, and wasn't done because I accepted defeat. Quite the opposite."

"Then you're wasting your breath on me," Randall stated, motioning his head at the less professional Leng, "However, Agent Leng could use a lesson in patience and military dictum. He seems to have a personal grudge against Captain Shepard that is inhibiting his ability as a combatant. He has already questioned my judgment on numerous occassions and, now more recently, your own. If anyone needs reassurance that our withdrawal was a necessary motion...Kai Leng is the person."

With a raised eyebrow, the Cerberus general turned to Leng, eyes looking to be appraising the assassin, "Is this true, Agent Leng? I should like to warn you the consequences of disobeying orders. The Illusive Man has been far less forgiving to such actions ever since Taylor and Lawson turned traitor."

Leng looked between the two of them, not saying a word, but taking note of their glances. Eventually, he turned to Randall, cocking his head, "Oh, I'm allowed to speak now?"

Randall shook his head.  _Child._

"You're always permitted to speak, Leng," Petrovsky deadpanned, looking equally as unimpressed as Randall. It seemed, to that degree, the two were alike, "However, watch your tongue. Insubordination will not be tolerated."

With a shake of the head, the assassin turned away, looking blankly down into the command center for a brief moment, collating his thoughts. The two of them patiently waited, Petrovsky more so than Ezno, wanting to see how the assassin would defend his actions. Mostly, the manhunter expected him to reply with what he had already said, arguing that killing Shepard would be a 'strategic boon' and 'his death would cause their forces to fall apart.' An inherently flawed idea to begin with, completely refusing to take into account the fact that dreaming something will happen does not mean it will translate into reality.

_Like a child._

Finally, the cybernetically enhanced grown man turned around, crossing his arms, but not before running a hand through his rugged, messy mane of hair, pushing it back before responding, "It's true, General, I'll admit. I believed that what we needed to do was continue forward. You ordered our company back, just when we were regaining momentum. Had we been allowed to continue...we may have saved E company, as well as killed Shepard. In one fell swoop, we could have killed the man responsible for this entire mess. Everything that has plagued Cerberus and our attempts to control the Reapers have been all his construct. I felt that eliminating him would have rid us of his destructive idealism."

"Oh, is that the truth?" Randall remarked, "Sounded more like jealously, actually."

Leng shot him a knowing glare, and Randall sneered back.  _Yes, I know what you're doing: trying to weasel your way out of responsibility for what you did._

To Randall's surprise, Petrovsky seemed to ignore Randall's response, acknowledging no one but Leng. When he spoke, the assassin's attention was immediately drawn back to him, as was the case with his adversary, "B company was down fifty to sixty men. What was left is about equal to a platoon...your arrival would have done nothing to save E company. In fact, when E company was overrun, it was due to a krogan battalion, a rachni horde and Shepard's squad attacking it simultaneously. All your men would have done to aid E company was to add to the body count."

"I didn't know about the enemy reinforcements, admittedly," Leng replied almost coyly, "Had I of known...I would not have acted so rashly."

_Absolutely reprehensible. Feigns apologetic understanding while hiding his incompetence underneath._

It wasn't made any better that Petrovsky seemed to buying the assassin's act, "Chain of command exists for a reason, Agent Leng. Without it, people like you do what they want...what you think as strategically expedient is what I see as a tactical blunder. I cannot have people who disobey orders. It creates chaos. How am I supposed to launch an effective counteroffensive or defense if I have disobedient officers doing whatever they want?"

"I understand sir," Leng replied apologetically, his act seeming more and more sincere. Even Randall would be buying it if it wasn't for him already knowing what sort of creature he was.  _Filthy. Repugnant. Disgusting. A man who can't own up to his own failures sincerely is no man at all. He's an animal. An animal of little moral fibre._

The Cerberus commander nodded to the assassin, before raising his head, eyes meeting eyes without breaking contact, checking to see if the man opposite him was lying or telling the truth, "And as right as you may be about Shepard, you are wrong in what you think will happen. It is no lie that Shepard has become a bane to our existence. His actions on Mars, Eden Prime, Sur'Kesh and the Citadel only enhance that. Yes, he has defeated us time and time again. Now that he's here, you believe eliminating him will change that, and that is where your accuracy diminishes," he walked up to Leng, stopping a mere meter infront of him, "Killing Shepard will not fracture the very structure of his effort. His squad will not fall apart, and the UGC will not splinter and die. What you see as a victory would only make the UGC stronger. His squad would only become more vicious, more tenacious, more resilient. Martyrdom is a powerful thing, Agent Leng. By killing Shepard, you would only be sharpening their teeth and strengthening their resolve," he shook his head, walking back to where he was, back turned to the assassin, but continuing to talk to him.

"So, yes. I agree. Shepard must die," he turned around, meeting Leng's stare back directly, "But so must his squad. And every single UGC soldier on this station. We must set an example. If we destroy the enemy force here, kill Shepard and his famous squad, and eliminate the  _Normandy_...we will demonstrate that Cerberus will not be pushed around and that we are more powerful than ever. We will not only illustrate our ability to give what we take, but also that even legends like Shepard are just men when put under intense scrutiny. He is not invincible, he is not infallible...he has made mistakes, and will continue to make mistakes. And I believe he has already made his first blunder."

Randall frowned, speaking up in Leng's place, "And what may that be, General?"

He did not turn to Randall, simply continuing to look back at Leng, his gaze simply unmoving and unwilling to be moved, "He allied with Aria T'Loak. Of all the people to recruit for an assault, you do not enlist the help of that woman. Her predictability and lack of finesse made conquering Omega all too easy last time. She is a powerful combatant, but she falters when faced with a superior leader. Shepard is as good a leader as he is a soldier...Aria is not. And that was his mistake..." finally, he turned to Randall, looking him down as one would down the sights of a gun, "...placing his trust in her."

"So what now?" Leng asked, voice calm and collected, almost as if they hadn't been talking about the assassin's reckless behaviour and that he hadn't had an outrageous, immature tantrum beforehand, "If Aria is so predictable, figuring out their next move should be easy."

The General shook his head, turning back to his desk and bracing against it, "Aria T'Loak is a woman of ego. She will often broadcast what she plans to do just before she does it: it gives her power. When her plans succeed, she can then gloat about what a confident leader she is. She did it when she defeated the Patriarch and claimed his throne. She is both cunning and, as her return demonstrates, a willful woman. I can respect that. But her inability to keep her plans a secret...the need to be seen doing it...it's almost a ritual for her. An instinct. A primal necessity. She simply can't help it, and Shepard can't stop that. No matter what he does, she will broadcast it. Whether it be the movement of troops in the open, a broadcast to the station, or having her salarian hack our network...whatever it is, we will know about very quickly. Shepard doesn't know it, but we've already played him."

He turned back to them again, twisting on the spot, to bring up his omni-tool, showing them a holographic map of Omega, where the numerous forcefields he had in place were highlighted, "Given Shepard's use of EDI in the past, I've seen to it that our schematics were altered by our engineers. The alterations are subtle enough that they won't pick up on them immediately...at least not until it's already disrupted their operations," he tapped a button on his omni-tool, and the forcefields vanished, "For example, I had evidence of the forcefields and where they are located removed from the schematics. Without knowledge of where they are, the UGC will not be able to plan offensives effectively...especially once this EDI discovers the fault. As of now, my engineers are now adding locations of forcefields to the schematics, but within incorrect areas. Where they think forcefields will be...there won't be, and where they think there won't be, there will be. It'll cause just enough disarray to make our defense much easier."

Randall had to nod, impressed, "You're certainly living up to your reputation, General. You've outsmarted them already and they don't even realize it."

He deactivated his omni-tool, returning his hands behind his back to assume parade rest once more, "As you've just realized, small tactics offer something to the greater whole. Little changes like that can change the playing field entirely. Knowledge is power, and unfortunately for Aria, she no longer has the advantage of possessing that knowledge. Cerberus has been here for months...more than enough to learn everything she knows, and creating obstacles she doesn't. Our forcefields will have the UGC running frantically to find alternate routes, and while they are wasting time doing that..."

"...we can regroup, reorganize and launch counter-operations," Leng finished for him. Without even turning, Randall knew the assassin was smirking, and was not at all surprised when he turned to see the assassin doing what he already knew he was doing, "You know General, that retreat wasn't such a bad idea at all. We may have done more to kill Shepard with that simple action than any assault of mine."

_Yours? The command was mine, you insect._

"Chain of command exists for a reason," he looked down at the assassin, the height difference between the taller general and the smaller assassin made painfully clear in that moment, "...we often know better, Agent Leng."

Randall couldn't be sure, but the General's response almost sounded...like a remark. Almost like he wasn't buying into the assassin's bullshit at all...

_Perhaps he's playing Leng just like he is Aria. Perhaps he's letting Leng believe he's gullible so that he'll get more out of him. I appear to have underestimated this Petrovsky._

It was not something Randall would make a habit of in the future.  _Assumptions are dangerous, Ezno. Never make that mistake again._

The assassin paused for a brief moment, absorbing everything he had just heard. Not long after, he finally propped himself up and away from the wall, straightening up before offering a simple, yet expert salute, his former involvement in the Alliance shining in the simple movement, "Too right, General," he lowered his hand, remaining rigidly upright, "Where do we go from here, if I may ask?"

Despite his dislike of the man, Randall couldn't help but wonder at that either.  _With our forces almost fully regrouped, we'll need to begin planning our next move. The UGC might be in disarray now, but they will eventually find a way around...when they do, we need to be ready. There's only so much our forcefields can do._

Petrovsky nodded, "I recently updated the Illusive Man on our progress. Two fleets are inbound for the station, and will arrive in five days. Until they can effectively support us, we will need to, at the very least, keep the UGC troops pinned and Shepard occupied. I already have Colonel Amish reinforcing positions around the Rubicon and he is currently organizing a large-scale offensive. First, we must find the UGC's FOB. They will need to establish one if they ever hope to launch any effective, directed assault and given Aria's knowledge of the station, she will likely have already suggested one. We must find it and strike pre-emptively and with surprise."

_Good. We can wipe them out quickly and with extreme, brute force. Crude, but effective. The UGC will be too busy getting cozy with their new FOB to be able to counter us. The next move would be to have a massive wave of ground troops, armoured units, mechs and aircraft assault simultaneously...the blitzkrieg that Leng wanted._

"That will be our task, correct?" Leng asked, "To find their FOB. More than likely it will be in the-"

"No."

That took Leng aback. "I'm sorry?"

"Colonel Amish is currently deploying advance reconnaissance teams to scour the Rubicon and monitor UGC forces," Petrovsky declared, shaking his head. Noticing Leng's disapproval, he quickly elaborated, "I have no reason to risk high-value assets as part of a simple recon mission. You will stay here until such time as your services are required again."

Before the assassin's  _fata morgana_ dropped, Randall verbally stepped in, nodding, "We understand, General. We understand the necessity for asset recovery, and will await further instructions. We have faith that the brave men and women of our forces will find the enemy base."

"Excellent," Petrovsky declared, turning to the two of them and nodding, "Randall, please remain. Agent Leng, you are dismissed."

Craning his head slightly to look at him, wanting to see how the ex-N7 reacted. To his surprise, he bit back the grimace that was beginning to show and simply saluted again, twisting on the spot to walk out the door, his footsteps echoing down the flight of steps before the sound dissipated entirely, doors slamming shut.

Petrovsky pulled his chair out, motioning for Randall to approach as he promptly plopped himself down in it, grabbing the desk to pull himself in, hands landing on its smooth surface, terminal's keyboard flashing to life, waving the cursor to allow the Cerberus screensaver to evaporate, revealing the desktop infront of him. The manhunter arrived behind him, waiting for a few seconds for Petrovsky to speak.

"Captain Banes has emphasized to me the kind of man you are, Major Ezno," the General finally spoke, elbows propped against the table, holding his chin in his hands, "Which is exactly why you are here, and not Agent Leng. You are smart enough to know that I am not gullible or stupid. I know when a man is lying to me."

The manhunter scoffed, "Leng was not driven by strategy, sir. I strongly believe he is jealous of Shepard and his success. His urge is driven by a need to repair his wounded pride more than tactical forethought. I believe him to be a liability."

"As do I, but that's not up to me to decide," Petrovsky declared, sighing, "It's the Illusive Man's. He believes Leng to be an asset, and for now all I can do is restrict him to non-military operations. However, given Leng's uncontrollable nature...somebody needs to make sure he remains under wraps. Given how closely you both operate, and the nature to which you understand his skills and mindset, I believe you to be that person. Keep an eye on him. Make sure he does not compromise anything. If I need somebody to kill Shepard however...I'll know when the leash needs to be cut."

Randall nodded, "I'll keep a close eye on him, sir."

"See that you do, Major," the General ordered, scratching his beard, "I have enough to worry about without arrogant assassins doing whatever they see fit to do. Order must be maintained. I entrust you with that objective. Complete it, soldier."

He snapped a quick salute, knowing that the General couldn't see it, and spun on the spot, walking away at a reasonable, brisk pace.  _Leng is a rogue element, but I will ensure he remains where he is. We've just got to hold out five days...then Leng can kill whoever he damn well pleases once victory is secured. He can even kill Shepard if he wants._

Five days. Five, gruelling days.

**{Loading...}**

_August 5, 2186_

_1729 hours._

_Courtyard, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Rubicon Campaign._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Moses, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Major Kaidan Alenko,_ _First Lieutenant Jack, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak, General Nyreen Kandros._

They were here. Finally.

The long trek to Aria's supposed safe place had been long and arduous. They had been constantly harassed by whatever cohorts of enemy infantry Petrovsky could throw at them, not helped by the forcefields. They had encountered a total of two since the first, but Nyreen's guidance had helped them get around them without too much trouble. And whatever troops encountered only came in small pickets...rarely did they encounter a full squad. Regardless, the maze of winding streets and interconnected alleyways made for a troublesome experience.

It was not for nought, however. Eventually bypassing the forcefields and gaining access to the Pefashi district, it was only a kilometer or so more before they reached Tuhi. Along the way, scattered Talon scouts were encountered, joining them in their journey. It turned out that Nyreen, or 'General Kandros' as her men seemed to call her, had figured out how to lead a capable and organized resistance since Omega's fall. Like all guerilla wars, their progress had been frought with setbacks and their equal share of defeats, but they had given just as much back. Knowing where to strike and where best to lay the mightiest blow only aided the Talons in creating serious problems for the Cerberus occupation.

The hostility between Aria and Nyreen was more than noticable...neither even attempted to hide their contempt for one another. Aria was bitter towards the turian for what she saw as abandonment, where Nyreen constantly chastized the asari for her reckless actions, ruthless behaviour and nonchalant, careless association with violence, death and misery. All up, it was clear that the couple's relationship was either non-existent at this point, or was extremely strenuous.

Regardless of their ongoing relationship, it was clear Nyreen was, at the very least, committed to aiding them in their war. Not only had the UGC's arrival opened up a new theater, but it also gave the Talons the allies they sorely needed: now Cerberus was opposed by two sides, forcing them to reallocate troops to fight on two fronts, not one. This made the battle much easier and much more likely to succeed.

Piling ontop of their good news was that Nyreen had dispatched a few of her Talons to rendezvous with General Zaal'Golo and his army, guiding them to the shortest, most accessible routes to Tuhi. As a result, they were able to arrive at Aria's bunker ahead of time, shoring up the defenses in time for Aria and Marcus' arrival. As a result, their initial plan had gone off without a hitch, despite the new variables put into play.

_All objectives were met. Cerberus fleet destroyed, armies deployed onto the station, regroup at and reinforce Aria's bunker. All of these were done in just over an hour. Now comes the difficult part...deciding where to go next._

One final alleyway, and they erupted out into a courtyard. The place looked like it had previously been inhabited beforehand, with many neon signs and holographic advertisement stalls still active despite nobody being present but themselves, glowing brightly with smiling, corporate faces trying to sell whatever products they could. To the far left, closer to the central bridge, was a bar of some sort, its steel shutters closed, but sign still active, a holographic martini spinning in place above it. Opposite the bar, on the far right, was a gun store...specifically, one owned by Batarian State Arms, the official developer of weapons for the Hegemony prior to its collapse. Once again, its shutters were closed, not a single sound eminating from behind them, but the white oval flanked by two 'jagged' back-to-back Ls that was its insignia continued to glow brightly, flashing every so often to attract the attention of previously potential, but now inactive, customers.

To his immediate left, as Marcus examined the courtyard, was a store called 'Marsh Rentals', although the font was worn out and the store itself gutted and empty, looking to have been abused by a decade of neglect and lack of use. Whatever the case, it didn't look it had been in operation even before the Cerberus occupation, and the shattered glass that lay across the floor inside, as well as the peeling wall paint, garbage bags stuffed in a corner, and the musty smell only added to this conclusion. It was just a large, empty space with nothing in it.

To his immediate right however, was 'Tuhi District Storage', an orange holographic sign hovering its locked, interfaceless door shut and dormant. A holographic Cerberus logo hovering above it quickly painted the picture that it was now being used by the organization for weapons storage, something Marcus knew they'd have to exploit at some point.

Other than that, the courtyard wasn't all that impressionable. It looked almost entirely like the rest of the station did: four stairways, one leading to the left and one to the right, while the other two were the same but further down, allowed access to an upper tier, where the stores were...but these were the same featureless, orange and grey hue that Omega seemed to issue as its standard, offering nothing new to look at it, and looking more like a textureless and reused asset than anything else. A few pot plants were located in the middle, but they were lifeless and dead, their green leaves shrivelled up and decayed in appearance, looking more akin to black char than the product of wonderous ecology.

In not-quite-the-distance was a large, towering structure with the label 'D-Deck' painted across its upper half in gigantic lettering, although like everything else, even that looked worn out and faded. The tower looked like a massive cylinder, with the 'lid' being a circular appendage with numerous antennas sticking out the top, numerous wires stretching across from the top to connect to other structures surrounding it allowing it to tap into the power grid. Lights reflected off its mangy walls, perhaps giving it a far too eager glow.

In the end, Marcus knew what it was: Aria's bunker.

"That thing is fucking huge, Aria," Marcus accentuated, turning towards her incredulously as she emerged ahead of his squad, "You can't seriously tell me Petrovsky never knew you were in there. You might as well have had a beacon placed there with the words 'I'm not here, I promise' beaming out across the entire station."

"At the time, Petrovsky was acting upon hearsay intelligence at best, Shepard," Aria elaborated, holstering her shotgun as she realized they were in the clear, "I imagine this courtyard would have looked like a warzone seven months ago. He had artillery shelling this entire district, desperately trying to find me: not before he evacuated it, of course. He didn't find it then, and I doubt he's bothered to try and find it while I was gone. Sometimes, the most obvious hiding place is the best one. It's never the first place they look."

Marcus chuckled, holstering his own rifle and walking beside her as they approached the bridge connecting the courtyard to the bunker. His squad followed behind him, followed not long after by the rest of Grunt's battalion and the rachni they brought with them. It was a lot of troops to filter through a single alleyway, and he had no doubt it would take well over a half an hour just to get them all through and into the base, "That's surprisingly observant of you, Aria."

The asari glared at Nyreen's back as the turian and her Talons marched ahead, but managed to respond all the same, "There's a great many things you don't know about me, Shepard. Until now, Nyreen was one of them. Consider yourself informed."

"So you two have a history?" he asked, genuinely curious.

A sigh was all that followed, "It's such a long fucking story, I could bore myself to tears trying to tell it. She was infatuated with me, I was infatuated with her...we had our differences, and they eventually got in the way. Long story short: we fought, we fucked, we fought some more, we fucked some more...then she upped and abandoned me. Turns out she never really did leave the station. Guess her life was too enraptured with it before her to leave. Funny...she never did like Omega like I did. She always called it a 'cesspool of scum' and a 'river of disgusting filth.' I think she was homesick. That, or she was having regrets about not going."

He raised an eyebrow at that, "Not going where?"

"Fucked if I know. Kept mentioning some Initiative horseshit. Exploring a brave new world, she said. Traversing galactic boundaries, she liked to emphasize," the asari snorted, shaking her head, "She talked in riddles, and it bored me. All it told me was that one of her cousins had gone on some grand adventure to who-gives-a-fuck and she was having regrets not going with him when she could have. I remember that Tiran offered her a place and she turned it down...said it was for me and Sata. Said she loved me. What a fucking lie that was."

He looked at her for a second, observing the subtle change in her body language...fists clenching, eyes narrowing...she was biting down a rage she had long tried to encapsulate, and now it was rising up again. It was clear that Aria was trying to hide her affections, "Do you still love her?"

The question was blurted out, but Aria didn't seem to notice, fists unclenching and expression returning to normal, this time with a distasteful smirk, "I don't know if I ever loved her, Shepard. We weren't lovebirds, if that's what you're asking. We weren't all kisses and love poems like you and your quarian. We didn't whisper to each other and giggle like some idiotic fantasy. We had a mutual attraction, that's it. None of my relationships have ever had meaning beyond that...especially not the one before Nyreen."

That caused Marcus to smile again, "Oh gee, I wonder who that was. A certain councilor, I wonder?"

"Tevos is an uptight cunt who I had no time for," Aria spat, "She dumped me the moment she became councilor. Then she was all morally responsible and politically correct. Couldn't be associated with a crime queen, she said. I told her to get fucked. Told her that maybe Sparatus would allow take her up the ass like I used to...albeit with an actual fucking dick, I imagine."

He cringed at her crude description of her sexual escapades with Councilor Tevos, shaking his head, "There's such a thing as too much information, Aria."

The asari simply grinned, "I don't bother censoring myself, Shepard. I say it how I want it, and how it is. And even to this day, Tevos is still my little bitch. She's the reason I was even let onto the Citadel...I have her wrapped around my little thumb. Blackmail can be a wonderful thing, especially when you threaten to tell her fellow councilors what a dirty little skank she used to be...sleeping with the Queen of Omega herself. Oh, how her reputation would have drowned."

It didn't take long for them to fully cross the courtyard and reach the bridge. The bridge itself looked to be retractable, with a pair of belts on each side running alongside its edges. They immediately walked across it, the bridge stretching over ten meters before arriving at the otherside, attached to a platform on the side of the massive bunker. There, they were greeted by a large door, big enough for a Megalodon tank to drive through.

Four automated chain gun turrets, two on each side, sat on this side of the bridge, their barrels lowered towards the ground and looking deactivated. Their colour scheme was lacking the white and gold of Cerberus, and it lacked any other Cerberus logo, indicating to Marcus that the turians themselves were owned by Aria's forces. Given how they were bolted into the deck, and were deactivated...it was clear they had been there since before their arrival, likely a remnant from Aria's war with Petrovsky seven months ago.

Crouched beside them, possibly two per turret, were pairs of quarian engineers, male and female, each their omni-tools out and typing away, likely trying to get the weapons back online. Acting as a bodyguard contingent were sixteen geth troopers, with two geth snipers on each side, their Javelin sniper rifles propped up on top of their cover, scanning the courtyard for any incoming hostiles, while their trooper counterparts gripped their pulse rifles, putting themselves infront of their vulnerable creators, optics moving back and forth in a sweeping motion. Hovering above them were four geth assault drones, and behind them, a single geth armature stood. If this had been three years ago, Marcus would be opening fire and taking cover...

...instead, he walked right under the armature's bulk, the tank taking no notice of their new arrivals as they approached the entrance. Nyreen had already arrived, banging on the door loudly as she demanded to be let in, six of her Talon soldiers flanking her, weapons lowered but ready to be used. While Aria picked up the pace to see what the trouble was, Marcus slowed down, especially when he saw Tali rush up to him.

"Mark," she said to get his attention, the N7 stopping and turning to face her, ready to hear what she had to say. She motioned to her fellow engineers, her shotgun tucked away on her back, "If you don't mind, I'm coming to stay back with the engineers and help them get these turrets up and running. If this base has a few anti-aircraft units, we should try and get those activated as well."

A shadow was cast over them, Marcus not needing to turn to realize Moses had joined them as well, "I would like to request permission to stay behind as well, Shepard-Commander. We would like to converse with geth platforms to discuss strategies and tactics. What we discuss might be of some use to you later on."

He nodded to both of them, patting Tali on the shoulder, "Permission granted, both of you. We'll talk later when we discuss what to do next. Until then, dismissed." Moses simply turned and left, approaching a trio of troopers to the left, while Tali tapped her faceplate against his visor before turning away to join a group of engineers. Before Marcus turned back to approach Aria, he saw one of the male engineers stand up, snapping a salute. Tali waved a hand to dismiss it, what she said becoming drowned out by Marcus' footsteps as he approached the doorway, followed closely by three columns of krogan commandos and rachni warriors.

Whatever happened must have been settled as the door slowly slid open, screeching due to misuse. Aria winced at the noise, shaking her head, "I'll have to lubricate the mechanisms once this is over. That noise is insufferable."

With the door opened, Marcus raised his hand and signalled the battalion to move forward, his squad not far behind as they crossed the threshold and entered their new forward operating base.

The cargo hold they were welcomed by wasn't just huge, it was colossal. The room by itself must have been capable of housing eight Reaper destroyers standing up, it was  _that_ big. Inside, all of General Golo's forces were arranged, with several geth dropships resting inside, parked but ready to take off at a moment's notice, whilst accompanied by several kodiak and STX shuttles and A-61 gunships. The rest of the geth and quarian forces were located within, either running rifle drills or practicing in hand-to-hand combat: no matter what, everybody was occupied doing something. A geth juggernaut patrol scouted the perimeter of the chamber, checking for possible entrances or breaches, whilst the other eleven geth armatures were lined up in single file, idle and awaiting further commands.

"Looks like your quarian general is making himself at home," Aria declared, "I just hope he hasn't tampered with anything. I want my command center intact."

"Just what is the composition of your force here?" Nyreen asked, turning to Marcus to ask the question, keeping her hood down, "What have you brought with you so far in the way of an army?"

He crossed her arms, nodding at her, "We've got just under a regiment of geth troops, with one hundred quarian marine combat engineers in support under the command of General Zaal'Golo vas Zavtee. Other than that, we've got a battalion of krogan commandos, several battalions of mercenaries ranging from Blue Suns to Eclipse to Blood Pack, and we've got, in total, 18,000 rachni troops. Aside from my squad, that's about it."

"So, all up, we've got a force rounding around twenty thousand, minus the casualties already taken in getting here," Garrus piped up.

Nyreen nodded, sighing as her mandibles twitched ever so subtlely, "So...Cerberus outnumbers us when it comes to numbers."

"Yeah, but I doubt adding rachni, krogan and geth to that equation makes it an even fight. In a straight up assault, good tactics and deployment of our forces would eventually prevail," Marcus added, "Unfortunately, a straight up assault would result in unnecessarily catastrophic losses. And with those forcefields being the nuisance they are...I don't see a direct attack on Afterlife being very plausible at this point. It's the beginning to an otherwise long battle, but we've at least made head way."

Aria waved a dismissive hand with a bitter laugh, turning to walk down the chamber towards the back, likely where her command center was, "How things begin isn't nearly as important as how they end, Shepard. All our forces have arrived and are ready to wage all out war with Petrovsky. I'm going to head up to the command center...or 'war room', as you military wardogs would call it...meet me there when you're ready to plan our next move."

"I'll be right there!" Marcus shouted after her, his voice echoing across the gigantic hangar-like area. Aria made no move to respond, simply storming away as Bray, Dreg and the rest of her men fell in behind her, flanking each of her sides like a pack of overly protective bodyguards.

Turning to Nyreen, now finally alone with the mysterious rebel general, he uncrossed his arms, letting them hang at his sides, "I didn't get to say it before, but I respect what you've done here. From the looks of it, you held up pretty well against Cerberus."

Nyreen chuckled, the turian scratching the sides of her head, "No compliments needed, captain: I did what I had to. I should be thanking your timely arrival...it couldn't be more fortuitous. Colonel Farland had our backs against the wall, and he was hammering us with everything he had. Your invasion...gave us a massive opportunity. Petrovsky even postponed all operations against Talon forces to deal with you...only left a few token forces, and my men are doing well enough keeping them from finding our headquarters. To be honest, I wasn't expecting all this to show up. It's quite an army you've got here."

He smiled, "We're here to liberate, Nyreen. Whatever Aria has said to you about my intentions here, it's true. I'm not interested in her power play, and neither do I support her policies...but the fact of the matter is that the UGC could use an Omega under Aria T'Loak, an ally of our effort, a little more than Cerberus, an avowed enemy. Omega's an advantage they've been flaunting too long."

"I understand the tactics, captain. I respect your transparency on the matter," was the turian's reply, seeming entirely unfazed by his a-matter-of-fact delivery, "Aria and I are far from the best of friends, but as much as I respect Petrovsky's moral code, he can't be allowed to continue his leadership here. Cerberus is bleeding this station dry...and everything they're doing here. It reeks of carelessness. Like they don't intend to stay."

He frowned at that, surprised by this sudden revelation, "What do you mean? Petrovsky seems pretty intent on staying put."

Nyreen nodded hurriedly at that, "Yeah, for the mean time. But the way they move, how they've set up defenses...they want Omega locked up tight, but they don't want to make a home here: they'd have set up far more military strongholds if that was the case. As it is, we've only found makeshift barracks...and from what my scouts have reported, the Illusive Man has the general reactivating the old mines. All the equipment up there is ancient, but they're mining whatever they can scrounge up...been like that for four months. That, coupled with the fact that he seems to be preparing the station for new government, means that Cerberus never intended to keep Omega."

"But why abandon it?" EDI asked, coming up beside Marcus, "The Illusive Man will be aware of Omega's importance. Not only its location tactically important, but it allows them to control trade routes, maintain an outpost for Cerberus forces in the area, and act as a naval base from which fleets can refuel, resupply and seek repairs. It would be a strategic mistake to give up such a significant location."

"If I had the answer to that, I would tell you," Nyreen admitted, shrugging, "Unfortunately, we don't. None of the Cerberus channels mention anything regarding their intentions with Omega, but it can't be good. I just thought you should know...in case you find anything confirming my suspicions."

He nodded at her, "Thank you, General Kandros."

She raised a hand, saluting him firmly and surely, "No, I'm just Nyreen or Kandros to you, sir. General's not an official rank I have to my name...my men just took to calling me that, being their leader and all."

"Well...Nyreen. Carry on," he returned the salute, causing the turian to drop her own, turning to her troops and ushering them inside, following quickly behind them.

Shortly after, a few, loud stomps arriving on his right told him that Grunt had arrived, dried blood crusted around his face from when he had battled Cerberus before, "The rest of my men will arrive soon. Should they assemble in the cargo hold?"

Marcus nodded, turning to the krogan, rachni and mercenaries forming up behind them all. Raising his voice, he shouted to be heard by all of them, " **ALRIGHT MEN, SPREAD OUT AND GET COZY! I WANT RIFLE DRILLS RUN ON A MINUTE-BY-MINUTE BASIS! IF YOU'RE NOT TRAINING, YOU'RE HELPING SET UP DEFENSES! EVERYBODY IS TO BE DOING SOMETHING! LET'S SNAP TO IT, PEOPLE! MOVE OUT!** "

The krogan beat their chests in response, roaring back at him in approval before breaking up and spreading out in different directions...some in pairs, others in large groups of up to twenty...overall, they quickly got practicing at what krogan did best...killing. The many rachni quickly swarmed into the area, although this time not to kill and slaughter...but this time to gather up and engage in silent commune with one another. The numerous Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack filed out as well, with the turian commander Palisus quickly shouting orders at them to perform whatever drills, exercises or training he wanted them to. Vorcha hissed and howled, krogan grunted and grumbled. Salarian engineers muttered under their breath, turian legionnaires joked and scoffed.

While man after man, woman after woman, walked past them, Marcus turned to his squad briefly, nodding to them, "Take a breather guys, you know where I'll be if I need you or you need me. For the moment, just take a moment to relax, drill or talk. Might be the last time you get to for a while."

They all nodded, a few others like James and Keeling saluting as well, before breaking apart and going their seperate ways...EDI with Kasumi to discuss hacking techniques in combat, James, Keeling, Garrus, Kaidan and Javik to drill, Liara and Jack and her students to practice with their biotics. Whatever they were doing, it was to prepare for the next fight...not to relax.

He smiled.  _Taking time to relax as a chance to improve upon themselves and how they fight. One day, we're going to get shore leave, and we're going to be held at gunpoint until we actually bloody relax._

Considering sore his muscles got sometimes, Marcus was wondering how he could even stand up at this point.  _Bouncing from planet to planet, station to station...fighting Cerberus, geth and the Reapers. We almost_ _ **never**_ _catch a break. Go to the Archives, talk to the Council, save a Primarch, rescue krogan females, cure the genophage, repel an attack on the Citadel, make peace between quarians and the geth...now liberating Omega._

What a hectic life we lead.

He turned back to Grunt, smiling as he slapped the intimidating krogan on the back, "So Grunt, been enjoying yourself I see. This right up your alley?"

"It's fantastic, battlemaster," the krogan slammed his fists together in excitement, following Marcus as the two of them traced Aria's path back to her command center...a stairway at the very back of the room being their destination, "So much to kill, and all of it Cerberus. Husks simply groan and moan all the time...when I crush them beneath my fists, I feel nothing. No joy, no exhiliration. I feel bored. But Cerberus...they break. They snap. Less than a foot to sever the spine...I can deconstruct a target, feel their flesh shred beneath my palm...it fills me with excitement. This is my calling, Shepard. This is where I should be."

He laughed, one hand reaching up to grip the krogan's left shoulderplate, "Well, there's just under forty thousand more for you to kill in good time, Grunt. In the mean time, try not to go on any suicide missions without my permission, okay?"

"Heh heh heh," the krogan chuckled, his maw stretching into a normally terrifying grin, "There'll be suicide missions alright, I know that much. Hey Shepard, do you know the tale of Overlord Kredak's assault on Antibaar during the Rachni Wars?"

He raised an eyebrow at the krogan supersoldier, hands clasped behind his back, footsteps echoing across the deck, sidestepping a pair of hissing Blood Pack vorcha, who were currently beating the crap out of each other while one of their krogan squad leaders attempted to break them apart before they killed each other, "No, but I'm sure you'll tell me, Grunt. Don't you have the genes of Overlord Kredak within you?"

Grunt nodded, "That's what Warlord Okeer imprinted in me, anyway. He told me I had the tenacity of Overlord Moro, the vengeful spirit of Overlord Shiagur and the stubbornness and raw strength of Overlord Kredak. All of them were powerful in their own way, and all of them fell during the Rebellions. Actually, it was Kredak who started the Rebellions in the first place when he invaded the asari colony of Lusia."

"So...this assault on Antibaar," Marcus switched back to topic, "What was it?"

"It was late into the wars, a few years after the salarians uplifted us," Grunt joyfully told the tale with a wide grin, clearly empowered by the story itself, "The empire carved a path through the rachni like they were nothing. By that point, everything from the Terminus Systems to Council space itself was controlled by the rachni. When the Tuchankan Empire arrived, everything changed: we wiped out entire rachni colonies overnight. Antibaar was the beginning of our final push. It would only be a year until Suen, the rachni homeworld itself, fell. It would also be the last time all three of our legendary overlords fought side by side. Antibaar however...that was where Kredak became truly famous."

He growled almost primally as he remembered it, "Before, all I could remember of that battle was the sounds of rachni screams. The sounds of Kredak crushing rachni soldiers underneath his boots. The crack of a shotgun as he blew the head off a rachni queen. His cry of triumph as he, a krogan without biotics, defeated three brood warriors in single combat. I remember that he tore off his kinetic barriers, going in with nothing but a shotgun, an Imperial blade the size of an arm and a warhammer the size of your entire body...strength was pure within his genes. He was like me...a krogan of unparalleled strength. A strength the genophage took from us. Such power...such raw power.  _He_  was strong.  _I_ am strong!"

"The point here, Grunt?" he asked, feeling the krogan was getting a little too enraptured in the details. _Appreciate the enthusiasm, though._

"Right," was Grunt's almost sheepish reply, reminding Marcus all too much that the krogan was, by krogan standards, still an infant, "Kredak led a single company straight into a rachni nest. Salarians and the turians cleared the sky of a rachni fleet before they dropped in. Like I said, he wore no armor, no shields, and bore nothing but a single shotgun and his knife. His men insisted he wear armor, but he refused them. He said, 'a man who requires armor to fight is one with something to fear. Krogan do not fear anything, especially not these rachni. I face these vermin naked in that I might please Kalros with a demonstration of my ferocious might. May the queen feel the kiss of my hammer.' His words encouraged his men to strip their own armor...and they infiltrated the nest. Illuminated by Aralakh and Kalros itself, they wiped out the entire nest...thousands upon thousands of rachni. The entire company was wiped out...all eighty krogan! But for each krogan slain, a thousand rachni were torn apart! In the end, only Kredak himself remained! Against all odds, he killed the queen's brood warriors, and stomped her face in with his warhammer! And for that, he earned the title of Overlord. The rachni learnt to fear us that day, as did the Council."

Finally, the two of them reached the back, walking up the steps as they approached one of the doors, two guards flanking each side with their rifles drawn: both of them were turian. He stopped just as they reached the door, turning to face Grunt with a quizzical expression, his arms crossed over his armoured chest, "Absolutely fascinating story, Grunt. But I fail to see the relevance."

The krogan just smiled, "Don't you see? You are Kredak, this Cerberus general is the queen, and his soldiers are the many warriors Kredak stomped between his feet. This is a grand battle, and when we are victorious, they will truly learn to fear you. Only truly great soldiers can command fear with their presence."

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head, "Thanks...I think. Although I don't think that's really what I'm aiming for here. I'm here to liberate, not to instill trepidation."

The krogan slapped him on the arm, his grin refusing to relent, "Do you think Kredak wanted to be feared. He didn't demand it, he  _commanded_  it. He didn't make it happen, it just did. Like it or not Shepard, you're my battlemaster, and if you were krogan, I'm sure Wrex would make you an Overlord. You've earned my respect, and you've earned their fear. Just thought you should know that."

He nodded, continuing to frown at the krogan, "You're...something else, Grunt. Truly. Thank you for the compliment...although I don't think being told people should fear me is really a compliment, but I'll take what I can get."

"No, Shepard. You  _take_ it," he clasped his fist shut to emphasize this, shaking his head, "That is the krogan way. I remember when you first woke me up...you promised me worthy foes. We defeated the Collectors, and they were certainly worthy. We defeated the Shadow Broker, and he was worthy. And now we fight the Reapers and Cerberus...the most worthy foe of all. And despite what my genes scream at me to do, I find myself allied with my old foe. Those that Kredak annihilated world by world are now those I fight beside. Wrex hopes that the krogan will not seek revenge against the Council for the genophage once we've fully recovered. At first, I thought he was a fool. But you showed me I was wrong. I was the fool. Besides, you've pointed me in the right direction."

This time, when Marcus smiled, it was genuine, "Thanks Grunt. Come on, we should get to the command center. No doubt Aria's impatient to get moving," he turned to the door, tapping the interface as he stepped through the door inside, Grunt following him every step, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eager myself, although for entirely different reasons."

The command center was a long elongated room, extending to the far left and right. A glass observation window allowed a view into the cargo hold, with another one on the opposite wall showing yet another cargo hold, this one roughly the same in size, with more vehicles stored within. In the middle was a war table not entirely unlike that on the  _Normandy_ , Aria waiting beside it with her arms crossed as Ahz typed away at the console on its side, likely trying to bring it online. The entire section of that room was surrounded by terminals and consoles, with most of her men hard at work: an asari coordinated with the quarian engineers outside, Bray ordered his troops around, while Dreg stood at Aria's side, arms braced against the table. On the other side of it stood Zaal'Golo, exchanging words with a geth shock trooper beside him.

They approached the group, Marcus arriving beside Dreg, while Grunt came to stand on Marcus' right, looming behind the N7 almost like a bodyguard.

Aria spared him a mere glance as she turned to the quarian general, gaining his attention as she spoke up, "You've certainly gotten nice and cozy, General. I suspect everything is being done to get my bunker fully operational?"

Zaal'Golo nodded, turning from his geth companion who remained at his side even as he addressed the asari, "Please Aria, we are quarian: for three hundred years, we've had to keep centuries-old ships intact. Bringing this bunker back online took five minutes at most. Bringing your defenses up to scratch is proving to be slightly more difficult, but it's nothing we can't handle. We're just glad the rest of our forces arrived. It proves that Shepard's plan has worked out so far."

"Not everyone," Grunt piped up, keen to remind everyone of the company that was still out there, "I have some heavies running a torch op on those Cerberus hangar bays. Once they've made sure those aircraft are out of commission, they'll meet up with us here. Other than that, the rest of my battalion is here. I'd go so far as to say that we've conquered this quadrant."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Zaal'Golo intervened, waving a finger at the krogan as he straightened up, "Cerberus forces are gathering around the quadrant as we speak. We may have taken a few districts, but that doesn't mean the quadrant is ours. And if my scouts are to be believed, then the enemy force amassing is quite large. Thousands of troops, in fact. Possibly two regiments. They are likely reinforcing their defensive line...if they wanted to attack, they could have already. I believe their aim will be to repel us, not expel us."

"If Cerberus already has two regiments ready to engage us, then we've grossly underestimated their mobilization time," Marcus chastized, glaring at Aria with an unamused expression, "Because of this, I believe our next move is rather obvious. We need to dislodge those forces if we want to proceed. I fear a direct assault might be necessary."

"Ah! Success!" Ahz cheered out, the war table lighting up as its systems began to receive power.

"Excellent job, Ahz," Aria complimented, uncrossing her arms and leaning against the table, "Now, get Jarral on the line."

A few seconds and a few moments of typing later, Jarral's voice sounded over the war table's comm, "Miss T'Loak, we've secured the entire area surrounding Omega. Petrovsky's fleet lies in ruin, and we've hunted down and destroyed every single one of his ships. Whatever naval presence he once held is now gone. Victory is ours, for now."

Gerrel's voice soon added to hers, "Admiral Jarral is correct. I have my ships assuming defensive positions within the asteroid belt, and the geth have activated cloak and are holding position next to the station. If Cerberus attempts to counterattack, we'll be ready. Although we'd rather not risk engaging reinforcements if we can help it."

"That's excellent news," Aria smirked smugly, the news bringing her much needed amusement, "Keep us updated on further developments. We've just reached the bunker. So far, the plan has gone off without a hitch."

"Understood," the two responded before the comm was cut.

"Well, we don't need to worry about the situation in space at least," Zaal'Golo declared, "Now we can focus on the ground. We shouldn't waste time. I suggest an immediate offensive. If we swarm both of their flanks, we can crush them quickly and efficiently. We outnumber them completely. Its four thousand against twenty. With those numbers, plus our geth, rachni and krogan fire support, we could easily make the day ours."

"Wouldn't suggest that myself."

All eyes in the room landed on Nyreen as she strolled into the command center, arriving inbetween Marcus and Dreg, crossing her arms.

"Nyreen..." Aria growled in a low tone, almost muted, "I don't remember giving you permission to access my command center. This is for senior personnel only."

"I'm a general, Aria. Commander of the Talons, actually," the turian bit back, ignoring the asari queen and refusing to meet her gaze, "That makes me senior personnel, I should think. Besides, I'm curious as to what you plan to do. Somebody has to look out for Omega's interests."

Aria smiled, her hostile tone shifting to that of one of passive-aggression/mild amusement, "Nyreen..." she began sarcastically, arms crossed once more, "...it's almost like you don't trust me."

The turian scoffed, shaking her head as she finally met the asari's gaze, glaring back at her, eyes narrowed to slits, "It's  _exactly_ as if I don't trust you."

He rolled his eyes, slamming a fist down on the table's surface. They both immediately snapped to look at the angry N7, his jaw clenched in frustration, "I don't give a fuck what you two have going on between you. I don't care about the trust issues or the fact you two aren't on talking terms. We're going to war together.  _I'll_ make sure we can rely on each other."

Nyreen exhaled heavily, leaning back on one leg as she rubbed her temple. Finally, she nodded, "Agreed, captain. At least one of us isn't on a power trip."

Marcus nodded, turning to Aria. With the asari not responding, he decided to make himself clear once and for all, "Just to reiterate Aria, I am not here for you. I am here because our interests align in only one area: dead Reapers and a disempowered Cerberus. Once this is over, our partnership is done in regards to this station. I will not be your lackey, and I will not help you solidfy your hold. I need you, that's all. Do not delude yourself into thinking I'm some tool you can use, because you're solely mistaken. Tell me you understand so that we can move forward into this war with a clear, crisp idea of the aftermath."

She looked annoyed by his statement, as if she had actually been entertaining that delusion only for it to be shattered in that instant. Finally, she sighed, shrugging, "Sure, whatever. I don't need you to hold power, anyway: I've been doing that just fine before your father was in his father's testicles."

"Good," silence followed after his statement, with nothing further being said. Deciding now was the best time to address the topic, he cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back as he turned to Ahz, "Now, before we can organize any sort of counterattack, we need to establish a better understanding of these forcefields. They could become a real pain in the ass if we don't deal with them now."

"They already are," Nyreen affirmed, bringing up her omni-tool in the process. With a few idle types, the schematic was projected up onto the war table's projector, with the forcefields highlighted in blinking blue, "My men have had to navigate past them numerous times. Everytime we think we've found them all, another one pops up and surprises us. Truth is...we have no idea how extensive the network itself is...so far, there are dozens across all the districts. From what my scouts tell me, and what we've seen first hand, Petrovsky uses them as crowd control, as you probably already guessed. Any riots occur, and he can seal them off before they spread, containing them and allowing his men to quell it within minutes."

"So these are the locations of all the known forcefields?" Marcus asked. Seeing Nyreen's silent nod, he shook his head.  _Fuck. There must be hundreds of the damn things. How am I supposed to coordinate any kind of organized assault with these pieces of shit popping up everywhere?_

"Wait..." Nyreen piped up, her eyes scanning the schematics.

"What is it, Nyreen? Having second thoughts already? That was awfully quick," Aria snarkily stated.

The turian shook her head, swiping across the map, "No, these forcefield locations...these schematics...shit, they're all wrong."

He frowned at that, "What do you mean?"

"All the forcefield locations on this map are incorrect. They're in places they shouldn't be," she zoomed in on a particular one in the Yelsz district, "For instance, this forcefield blocking the street shouldn't be there...but according to this, the forcefield we encountered in Zeta doesn't exist...damn it. Petrovsky must have deliberately sabotaged these schematics to throw you off."

"Fuck!" Aria slammed her fist into the console loudly, hissing through her teeth, "If these schematics have been sabotaged, then they're useless!"

The turian turned to her, grinning, "Gee Aria, turns out you might need me after all. You see, us Talons have been making schematics of our own as we go...let's just say that Cerberus made maps are hardly trustworthy. Luckily for you, I have one of our own maps right here. It's not complete like this one, but it's definitely far more reliable."

A few more taps on her omni-tool, and the forcefield locations shifted to their actual positions, while a few others vanished altogether.

"Wait," Ahz piped up, suddenly beginning to type frantically away at his console again, "With the two schematics, I can replicate the positions of the new forcefield locations and add it to what the Talons are already aware of. That way, we'll have a complete map."

"I know who can help with that," Marcus stated, quickly tapping his comm, "EDI, we need your help with something. Cerberus sabotaged the schematics, but the Talons have a more reliable map: unfortunately, it's missing important features. Ahz thinks he can use the original to apply the newly discovered forcefield locations to the Talon map, giving us a complete schematic. Can you help speed it up?"

"That will not be an issue, Marcus," the AI replied.

A moment later, Ahz stepped back, his smile stretching from cheek to cheek as new forcefield locations suddenly appeared all over the station. Within seconds, the entire map was completed.

"Success!" the salarian cried out in triumph.

"Thanks a ton, EDI," he thanked, not expecting the AI to reply, instead simply turning to the group.

"Okay, so with a full, unsabotaged map, we now know where all the forcefields are," Marcus declared, leaning against the console as his own eyes scanned it all.

Nyreen gasped, "Spirits, there's hundreds of checkpoints. Navigating a force the size of yours across the station without aircraft would be impossible."

Aria shook her head, hands grasping the edge of the table angrily, "You all call me a tyrant, but tell me...did I ever put up  _forcefields_ to control the people? Under my rule, Omega was free. They could do whatever they wanted. It was lawless, but lawlessness is true freedom. Petrovsky controls these people through forcefields, brute force and strategems. He's an asshole, no matter what moral compass he hides behind."

Nyreen scoffed, "Being lawless was the problem, Aria. I hate to admit it, but Omega's been more peaceful in the last few months than it ever was under your reign. The only war is between the Talons and Cerberus...no turf wars. No mercenaries fighting over control of districts. No cross-species plagues. There's law and order...those mechs take care of murderers and rapists. Sure, it's not freedom...but it's security. It's knowing you can cross the street without being shot or murdered or tortured. It's certainly not perfect, but it works. Besides...at least he  _has_ a moral compass."

Aria was unimpressed, glaring down at her. She might as well have been aiming a gun at her for all the love that came with the ferocious stare, "Don't you fucking lecture me. Besides, for someone who's supposed to be on my side, you seem to kiss Petrovsky's ass quite a lot. He's perfect in this, perfect in that...never 'he needs to be stopped' or 'he's a monster.'"

"I'm  _not_ on  _your_ side," she spat back, "I'm on  _Omega's_  side. I want these people to be safe. Like I said, if Petrovsky wasn't Cerberus, I'd be content to live under his rule. But he is, and that is why I fight. So far, ironically, Shepard seems to be the only one to act"ually care about Omega's future."

He held up his hands in his own defense, "Don't drag me into this shit. You two have got to grow up and get over this petty feud of yours. We're working together now. Get over it, and work with me here. If we want to have any chance of defeating Cerberus, the Talons, the UGC and the OLF need to work together. I can't help you Aria if you won't fucking help me. Besides," he snapped his arm up, pointing at the schematics. Specifically, the darker, unlit section below the main station, largely the main spire, "I'd like someone to explain to me why there are forcefields blocking off the entire lower section of the station, and why it looks entirely abandoned. According to this, not even basic life support is operational. Only thing working down there is the fucking airlock seals."

He didn't fail to notice Nyreen's reaction to the question. Her head hung low, hands clenching as she seemed to avoid answering the question, freezing up. That caused him to frown, surprised by the turian's reaction. Before he could ask however, Aria spoke up.

"I forgot to mention that," the asari admitted, sighing as her tension seemed to wear off, "Shepard, there's a reason Cerberus was able to take me by surprise. I don't know if Petrovsky authorized it, or if it was all part of his elaborate trap...but those darkened sections on the map are there for a reason. Petrovsky...he's trying to contain them. Keep them from escaping-"

"Keep what from escaping?" Marcus asked, voice raised, "What aren't you telling me, Aria? What the hell is down there?"

"If you let me fucking  _finish_ , I'll tell you," she snapped, returning to her recollection, "Before the Cerberus invasion...prior to Petrovsky betraying me...there were creatures they unleashed on the station. Wiped out a good portion of my men, as well as the mercs trying to take me out. They were unstoppable, Shepard. Monstrously strong, virtually soak up bullets and when they get to you..." she trailed off, shaking her head as she finished, turning to him, "Oh, and they're a fusion of cybernetic and organic biology. Remind you of anyone beautiful you know?"

 _Husks._ He sighed, chuckling ironically to himself, "Goody. Fighting Cerberus, and we still can't avoid the Reapers," after a moment however, the gravity of what she said quickly hit him, and he looked back up at her, smile practically evaporating from his lips, "Wait...husks? Cerberus invaded Omega  _before_ the Reapers arrived, and  _after_ me and my team had wiped out the Collectors. So where did those husks come from?"

"Ooohhhh...now that's the scary part," Aria commented dryly, waving her hand nonchalantly, "These creatures aren't Reaper. Cerberus built them from scratch as part of some experiment. Part of Petrovsky's trap was making me believe they were escaped experiments gone rampant. He lured me to the station where they had been located, and when I found out the truth, he had me imprisoned. By the time I got free and returned to the station, he had most of them sealed off in the lower part of the station and most of the station was his. In the end, though, I think even he was afraid of them. I don't think they were under Cerberus' control, hence why they are sealed off below."

Grunt shrugged, looking entirely undeterred by the asari's story, "We've fought hordes of husks already. This shouldn't be any different. I say, if this Petrovsky decides to release them, we'll kill them all."

"That would be incredibly foolish," Nyreen finally spoke up, raising her head to face the krogan, the turian's eyes looking uncertain: it was subtle, something only Marcus seemed to pick up on, but it did get his interest, "Petrovsky would never risk innocent civilians just to get an advantage on us. Besides...there's a reason he quarantined them instead of exterminating them. Those creatures aren't like the husks you've encountered: they're worse. I've had experience with them, and there's no stopping them. They practically shrug off everything but explosives, and even then they can walk it off. And what they do when they bite you or scratch you..."

"You turn into one of them," Aria finished for her, seeming to note the turian's discomfort, but making no mention of it, "I've seen it happen to some of my own men. The process is startingly quick, and once the victim is transformed, there's nothing left to identify him: they all look the same. Larger than a krogan, and fucking terrifying."

"Great," Marcus sarcastically concluded, removing his helmet gently and placing it on the holo table with a great exhale of breath, "So in addition to a massive Cerberus army, we've also got the literal definition of synthetic zombies, minus the being undead part. Fan-fucking-tastic. Anything else I should know? Maybe Petrovsky has a Reaper parked outside Afterlife? Or perhaps he's an immortal god, and the only way to kill him is to drop a fuckton of nukes ontop of him. Truly Aria, anything else?"

The asari chuckled to herself, surprisingly not getting annoyed by his antics, "Such a vivid imagination, Shepard. Fortunately for us all, none of the above. Even more fortunate, there's nothing else. The...'adjutants'...as Petrovsky calls them, were the first and last weapon he employed to take me down. Once my forces were decimated, he practically rolled right in and took the station. I'm sure he had troubled containing his little huskified extremist pets, but once they were contained, I'm sure he quickly forgot about them."

"Why bother?" Grunt asked. Noting the frowns drawn at him, he pointed a small finger at his point of reference, "If they can survive without oxygen or any form of life support, then why not just vent them into space? He's got it sealed off, and all it would take as a few opened airlocks. No husk, no matter how tough, can avoid getting sucked out into space."

Nyreen nodded, head in one hand, "He's already tried that once. As a test, he vented one upper section into space. Unfortunately for him, because these adjutants survive in vacuum, they were fine: even worse, one of their cruisers was strolling by at the time. Had eighteen adjutants all over it within minutes. Their crew was slaughtered and if it hadn't been for Petrovsky ordering the ship to be destroyed, they might have gone into FTL and ended up anywhere. As mindless as they are, the creatures seem to possess limited knowledge of technology: enough to know how to navigate a ship. After that, I guess he figured keeping them contained would be a better solution until he figured out a better solution."

"What about that massive heat signature in the middle?" Bray spoke up this time. It was then that the whole group finally noticed an extremely large heat signature running down the middle of the entire darkened zone: it was the only one producing power in those abandoned districts, and by the look of it, the damn thing was massive in size.

Aria recognized it instantly, "That's Omega's central reactor. Petrovsky has no choice but to keep that thing powered: without it, the entire station would lose power. And guess what needs power? The tethers keeping the asteroid attached to the station's superstructure, and the mass effect fields that keep Omega from being bombarded by asteroids. There's also the small matter of life support, communications..."

"Luckily for Petrovsky, the adjutants don't go anywhere near it," Nyreen pointed out, "It could be that their limited knowledge of technology doesn't apply to reactors. They probably simply don't know what to do with it, or they've learnt that the sheer heat produced by the damn thing is cause enough to stay away from it. Either way, adjutant interference with the reactor is unlikely enough that Petrovsky can keep it running safely. Not that he has a choice."

"And that's where we have our first problem," Ahz muttered, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

"What's the situation, Ahz?" Aria virtually demanded, storming over to the salarian's side to look over his console.

She needn't have bothered, "Those forcefields operate on extremely advanced technology: judging from the looks of it, a lot of it is reverse engineered Reaper tech: same goes for those particle cannons:  _Hellfire_ -class, they're classified as. Judging from the looks of it, all this technology was acquired from beyond the Omega 4 Relay: likely from the remains of that Base you destroyed, captain."

That only confirmed Marcus' suspicions.  _Illusive Man must have somehow found an IFF to traverse the relay. Damn it. Destroyed the Base, and he still somehow found a way to use it._

"Yes, that's all  _very_  interesting, but get to the point, Ahz," Aria snapped impatiently, waving a hand for him to get on with it.

The salarian nodded frantically, "Of course, Aria. Like I was saying, it's all Reaper tech. Now, the forcefield network is massive...it requires  _a lot_ of power. More than the power grid would be able to provide. If he had tapped this directly into the power grid, it would create a power surge: there would have been mass blackouts. To get the power he needs to run the forcefields, without killing the power grid...he's tapping power  _directly_ from the reactor itself to power them. He's using an entirely different power network from the standard one."

Sure enough, numerous lines ascended from the reactor across the projector, connecting across the entire station and linking up with their respective forcefields. Hundreds of different connections...it would have taken months to complete, but it was extremely thorough.

"Shit," Nyreen muttered, mandibles twitching in shock, eyes widened. Finally, she turned to Aria, this time with a look of equal parts desperation and disbelief, "To disrupt the entire network, we'd have to find each individual cable and cut it off."

"That's the safe way to do it," Ahz corrected, gulping, "There's a far more riskier alternative."

Aria turned to the salarian, arms crossed, one eye widened, "That is?"

The salarian sighed, rubbing one shoulder, "The reactor itself. Locate its control room, reroute power from the respective cables. It would cripple the entire forcefield network instantly."

Nyreen leaned back on one leg, clearly unimpressed by the suggestion, "But to get there...the entire route is crawling with adjutants. It would be suicide."

"We have the men," Grunt growled, smirking, "Give me my battalion and I'll get your engineer there, Aria. We are krogan. I welcome the challenge."

Nyreen scoffed, looking at the krogan in complete disgust, "You have no  _idea_ what those things are capable of! I've seen just one tear apart an entire platoon of men! Petrovsky has a forty thousand strong army and an quickly large fleet, not to mention his own tactical brilliance, to call upon and not even  _he_ could get to that reactor if he tried! Those adjutants started off small, but when they attacked Omega, they infected hundreds of people. There could be thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands, down there by now! Petrovsky himself sent teams down there and lost contact with them! Do you think a man of his stature would back down from a fight unless he absolutely knew he couldn't win? Krogan or not, you and your men will die! If you're extra unlucky...you'll become one of  _them._  And then we'll have an extra 800 plus 2 adjutants to add ontop of the ones we already have to deal with! No, I can't endorse a suicide mission of this scale."

With that, the turian turned and stormed out, flustered and angry. Marcus frowned at her, confused by her attitude.  _She seems like a competent leader and an excellent combatant...but every time one of these 'adjutants' are mentioned, she stumbles. Is it...uncertainty? Perhaps she's fought one of these things before?_

_Is she...perhaps...afraid?_

If that was true, these adjutants must have been seriously scary to spook somebody like Nyreen.  _Best think of another solution fast. I won't risk troops if I don't have to._

Door closing as the Talon general left, Marcus straightened up, taking his helmet under one arm and turning to the rest of the group, "We're here people: that's the first step. We should give our forces time to reinforce this bunker, check for weaknesses and stock up on supplies. The enemy won't attack us unless they see weakness, and if they do, we'll be ready. Take a day to think on it, and we'll meet up here first thing tomorrow morning. Everybody get some rest."

Aria disagreed, "We can't just rest on this information, Shepard. We need to act now."

He shook his head, turning to his side as he was already facing the door, "We're not machines, Aria: these men need time to rest. Our army will be useless unless they've had proper sleep...the geth can keep watch if need be. If Cerberus is foolish enough to attack us, we'll have a fortified position from which to defend ourselves: good terrain. Any ground attack will have to come through the courtyard, and that bridge is an excellent chokepoint. They'll have to attack us from the air, and we've got enough anti-aircraft assets to make that a no-problem. We've got safe locale, and enough time to rest. Use the time wisely."

The asari shook her head, turning back to Ahz, "Go, have your sleep then. I'll be planning what to do next."

He shrugged, bearing her no mind, "Do whatever you please Aria. However, if I find out you've planned an attack without me...I will make my report to the UGC, and we'll nuke this station instead. After all...we're here to deny Cerberus a strategic location. Nobody said we needed to keep it."

"You wouldn't dare..."

"I would. This is war."

The two glared at each other for a long moment, waiting for the other to break. In the end, it wasn't going to be the special forces operative, "Fine. No attacks, no suicide missions...no fucking charges. Happy?"

He smiled, nodding, "Very much so."  _I of course have no intention of slaughtering civilians, but she doesn't need to know that. I need Aria on a tight leash. She goes all gung ho on this and we might as well cut this all off._

Continuing his exit, Marcus decided to find somewhere to bunk for the night, but not before he checked up on Tali. He finally yawned, allowing himself a moment to bask in his exhaustion. Muscles slackened, eyes watered. He sighed. _Definitely need some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a big day._

As would the next week.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0511 hours._

_Courtyard, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Rubicon Campaign._

_Agent Kai Leng._

_Eight quarian engineers out front, sixteen geth in guard position. Turrets don't seem to be online yet, but situation could change. Bunker looks heavily fortified on all sides, and only way for troops to get inside would be through the courtyard...perfect chokepoint. Retractable bridge makes matters worse. Coordinated air assault likely candidate, but would require suppressing their AA capability. Strength of enemy force calculated to be around 10,000. Numerical superiority a certainty, but useless against a well entrenched force. Field of tactics defeats arithmetic. Field of fire would decimate the most elite regiment, regardless of training or equipment._

_Concentrated artillery strike could suppress enemy flak long enough for first line to break through turret fire and disable it. Enemy tech support and presence of geth would make hacking difficult, but not impossible. Heavy mech support, possibly from a few squads of RAMPARTs or a single squad of Atlases would be enough to keep their primes busy. Enemy air force is lacking...gives us a significant advantage. Loss of Rubicon hangars unfortunate, but doesn't cripple our own air capabilities. Could prove significantly useful._

These thoughts dominated the assassin's head as his cybernetically enhanced eyes scanned the landscape, locating excellent flanking areas, possible chokepoints, points of attack, vital acquisitions, and even more. Leng may have been an incapable and reckless fighter at times, but he had not forgotten what they taught him in N7: his ability to dissect an enemy force, locate the best points for infiltration and neutralization, and being able to provide accurate advanced reconnaissance and intelligence was what made him worthy of joining the ranks of the galaxy's elite special forces operators.

His 'eye goggles' made it so he didn't need binoculars, his cybernetic improvements providing automatic magnification and his integrated HUD allowing tactical data to be uploaded directly into his brain. Within seconds, he was absorbing this data, providing him a unique analysis that the rest of the Cerberus recon teams under Amish had failed to collect thus far.

Petrovsky had, of course, ordered him to stay put: he didn't want to risk one of his best agents. Leng was also fully aware that Randall had been asked to keep an eye on him, but he didn't care: he was tired of sitting around doing nothing. Leng was better when he was out in the field, and he managed to control his anger at Shepard and focus on his mission.

The mission in question was locating Aria's FOB, allowing for Petrovsky to plan accordingly. So far, none of Amish's teams had any success: the UGC forces were so disconnected from one another that finding one to track back to their new base was close to impossible. Luckily for Leng, he hadn't had to look far. A krogan company full of heavies was returning from torching Amish's fighter hangars (something he imagined had left the colonel more than a little jaded), and all Leng had to do was follow them right back to their FOB: a massive bunker, smack bang in the middle of the Tuhi district.

_It's just standing there. The damn thing is huge. How did Petrovsky never notice this?_

Although, to the General's credit, the entire district had been bombarded thoroughly during his first war: and with Aria surrendering her forces not long after, there really was no need to try and track it down: now that she was back however, it was crucial: and the assassin was the first to find it.

_And as the provider of this intel, he'll have no choice but to have me lead his host in attacking the bunker. And then, and only then, will I kill Shepard like the treacherous pig that he is. He will taste my blade, and I will taste his blood._

The thought excited him, filling him with more than just adrenaline: it also seemed to satisfy the persistent headache that grew in his head every so often. He was told it was a side effect of his cybernetic augmentations, with the scientists telling him it was the 'price paid for his perfection'. Regardless, Leng was grateful, and despite the occassional migraine, he had no issues with the added permutations that were gifted to him because of it. Increased strength, speed, agility, intelligence, stamina...every single one of them and more things he absolutely needed to complete the tasks he was given. Overall, he was the very definition of a supersoldier.

Crouched ontop of a rooftop overlooking the entire courtyard, Leng was gifted with the foresight to use the location as a perch from which to gather his intelligence. Knowing the enemy composition would have helped greatly in simulating a battle scenario in his head, based on the enemy's known numerical composition, it was a no brainer to conclude that the advantage lay in Cerberus hands: at current, the UGC had no idea that Cerberus was aware of where they were, and did not possess the resources that the pro-human organization already had at their own disposal.

_I look forward to this battle. I'll finally be able to kill that quarian whore, slit the throat of that asari bitch and flay that turian scumbag. One by one, I will kill them all, and only once they are all dead will I grant him death...let him join his filthy xenos into the afterlife, if it even exists. I already killed that traitor Jacob. Not even the drell assassin, a professional, was a match for me. Oh how I will enjoy beating them to a pulp..._

The concept gave him more euphoria than it should for a human being. Some would call Leng a sadist or a psychopath. He was neither: he was perfection. It was Shepard who was the psychopath, and Randall the sadist. Neither of them were tough enough to make the right decisions. Banes was an asshole and an incapable leader: couldn't even defeat the  _Normandy_ during his second engagement. He saw the way Petrovsky looked down on him...like he was filth unworthy of his time: an insect he'd sooner crush underneath his immaculate boots than spend anymore time in his company. But the General was just an arrogant fuckwit...and in the end, they were all lackeys of the Illusive Man, no matter how much Petrovsky deluded himself into thinking he was in control.

_In the end, I will kill Petrovsky. And that cunt Randall, too. Might even throw Banes out an airlock. Fuck all of them. I am better than they are...superior. There's a reason I was entrusted as the Illusive Man's personal hitman..._

Having recovered what intel he needed, he looked at his chrono, deciding he should return to HQ with what he had. Petrovsky and Randall would soon discover he was missing, and he would rather be there to confront them than have Randall sent out to hunt him down...Leng doubted the outcome would resemble friendly.

_Touches me again, and I'll rip his hands off. Fucking Ezno. Deserves to drown in his own pus. Fuck him. Fuck him especially. Stupid, arrogant, unbelievable bastard._

Remaining crouched, he quietly backed away, finding a ladder nearby and sliding it back onto the ground. Once landed, he activated his cloak and dashed away as fast as possible, making as much distance between him and the bunker as possible.

Over ten minutes later, and Leng arrived at the doors to HQ. The same dragoon from before stopped him once more, but this time he was surrounded by multiple guardians, their talon pistols drawn on the assassin. He merely smiled, raising his hands to demonstrate he was holding no weapons in his immediate grip, armed with nothing but his ninjato and a few knives.

The dragoon, his M-25 Hornet SMG raised, spoke, confident the assassin was surrounded and defenseless, "General Petrovsky wanted us to greet you the moment you returned. He wants to see you immediately. The charge is insubordination and dereliction of duty."

Leng's smile never once diminished, "Oh, I want to see him too. While I was 'abandoning my duty' and thanks to my 'insubordination', I was able to gather some rather interesting intelligence. The rest is for the General's ears only."

The dragoon barely listened, turning and tapping the door interface, walking through and motioning the guardians to do the same. Leng slowly followed him, making no move to grab his weapon or attack in anyway. The six guardians behind him remained behind him, their pistols drawn every step of the way as the assassin was escorted into the command center, door left open as they stepped through it.

Leng's smile drooped slightly as he recognized the form of Randall standing beside the war table, back turned to them, and hands clasped in parade rest. Breaking off his conversations with one of the colonels, he turned to see Leng, eyes locking onto his for a moment. Shaking his head in disappointment, he turned to the dragoon commander, "I'll take over from here, commander. You and your men can return to their posts. I can take care of one, unruly assassin."

One snappy salute later, and the dragoon turned to walk back down the hall, his guardians following him, lowering their shields to their sides and holstering their pistols. Randall, drawing his rifle, motioned for Leng to move, grabbing hold of his left shoulder roughly to emphasize his point. Leng didn't need prodding, moving forward even as Randall continued shoving him, the barrel of his harrier digging into the crook of the assassin's back, trigger ready to be pulled if the assassin so much as blinked in his direction. Leng didn't fight back.

It wasn't long before they finally ascended into Petrovsky's nest, the General typing away at his terminal behind his desk, Leng having never seen him sitting down. He didn't acknowledge their presence for a moment, likely finishing whatever report he was writing. Finally, he put the terminal to sleep and pushed his chair out, standing up as he buttoned up a loose button at the top of his uniform. Straightening up, he motioned to Randall to let the assassin go.

The manhunter gave one last shove, causing Leng to stumble ever so slightly forward, but allowing him to feel a reprieve as his rifle was no longer pressed into his back. Regardless, Randall stood behind him, harrier nonetheless raised and poised to kill at a moment's notice. Leng had no doubt Randall would pull the trigger without hesitation.

Petrovsky looked over the assassin once, meeting the assassin's eyes. Again, there was that look: the look of a man addressing a bug on his wall, more disgusted by its presence than horrified or in awe. Leng made no indication of his true opinion on that matter, face wiped of emotion and silently waiting for the General to say something.

A cleared throat, and he finally spoke, "Again, you disobey direct orders, Agent Leng. Your habit of compromising operations begins to run its course too often. I'm surprised you even bothered to reappear. Did you kill Shepard? That was the reason you abandoned your post, is it not? No doubt your reappearance here means you either failed to get near him or he once again bested you. None are looking good on my report," he jabbed a thumb at the terminal behind him, "Yes,  _that_ report. The one I'm giving to the Illusive Man, or will once this war is over. I had to tell him how you disobeyed direct orders twice in your contempt for Shepard, a contempt that, quite frankly, is beginning to grow tiresome. Do you have anything to say in your defense before I have you stripped of your armor and thrown in the brig?"

Realizing this was his chance to shine, the assassin nodded, "I do, General. I did not abandon my post to kill Shepard. Actually, I abandoned my post to help  _you_ kill Shepard. You see, I know where Aria's forces have established their FOB. I know its location, how to tactically approach it...I even know their defensive capabilities. But if you would rather throw me in a cell for the petty crime of doing my damn job, you're welcome to do so General. Just know that you won't find them without me."

Silence followed as Petrovsky's expression changed slightly, going from 'disgusting insect on my wall - be gone with you!' to 'this insect knows where the other bugs are hiding' within the span of a few seconds. Reaching up a hand to stroke his beard, he continued to look Leng in the eyes directly, as if...scanning him. It didn't take Leng long to figure out what he's doing.

_He's looking for fidgeting, any trace of a lie..._

After a minute, he finally nodded, holding up his hand in Randall's direction, "Lower your weapon, Major."

A moment of hesitation, followed by the distinct sound of a weapon being magnetized to one's armor. Petrovsky ceased stroking his beard as he spoke again, "You are forgiven...for now. But remember that you still disobeyed my orders, regardless of your intentions. Luckily for you, the intel you have is worth enough that I cannot, in my heart, find it in myself to justify throwing you in a cell. However, any further insubordination will lead to further admonishment. Do I make myself outstandingly clear?"

Leng gave a simple nod: an ever so subtle tilt of the head, "I understand."

"Right," Petrovsky replied, leaning back as he crossed his arms, "Now, what do you have for me?"

He smiled, "Tuhi District, D-Deck. There's a large towering structure overlooking the central courtyard: its somekind of bunker. The UGC forces have gathered their strength inside, and they have engineers trying to bring its defenses online. Considering the state of the bunker, I do not doubt that Aria knew of its existence for some time, and may have used it in the previous war."

The General quite clearly epiphanized, "So that's where she was hiding last time...clever girl. Hide in plain sight. And considering my artillery had been bombarding that area...it appears we weren't looking hard enough. This is excellent work, Agent Leng. We now have a target. What's your tactical appraisal of the area? Is a direct assault possible?"

He shook his head, crossing his arms now that he was in no real danger of being shot, "It would be risky, but possible. They have a bridge connecting the main superstructure to the courtyard, but the design of the area makes using tanks and ground vehicles impossible, and any ground troops would be funnelled into a chokepoint on the bridge: a perfect killing ground, especially with those turrets. However, a combined ground and air assault should be sufficient to not only suppress, but overwhelm their exterior defenses. And the chokepoint works both ways, meaning they cannot bring their entire force to bear in defense...they'd have to deploy in waves, whereas we don't."

Petrovsky nods, turning away from the assassin, "Yes, but heavy casualties would be inevitable. Operations relying on aircraft for deployment are rarely successful. However, I believe we can circumvent that. We will have troops deploy from the air, supported by gunships and fighters, while the rest will advance from the ground: that way, the enemy will have their attention effectively divided," he craned his head, facing Leng while remaining faced away from him, "Colonel Amish already has two regiments within the area. When I give the order, he will launch a full-scale assault on Aria's bunker. But once the order is given...this will get quite interesting. Four thousand troops will be deployed. This will be the first large-scale offensive conducted of this war. If that doesn't stress the importance of this to you, then this will be the first battle where we will fully acknowledge the UGC's capabilities to this regard."

The General nodded, returning to his desk, "Yes. We cannot allow them to remain. I will give Amish the greenlight to launch his assault. I also believe that with Shepard and Aria present, we will need competent ground commanders to lead the attack," he turns to Leng, before briefly turning to Randall. After a moment, he turned to Leng again, "If I can trust you, then you may take part in this operation. However, you will remain under Randall's supervision, and you will not compromise the mission by attempting anything by yourself. Keep your emotions to yourself, stay composed and do what's necessary to win, but do not fight Shepard on your own. If you encounter him, retreat and wait for reinforcements."

 _I am not a child_. That's what Leng wanted to say, but he managed to keep his fury at bay long enough to compose himself, silently nodding, "I...understand. Shepard may anger me, but I will not let him get to me this time. I will prove to you that I can be a team player. Major Ezno and I are already powerful combatants. Together, we can win this."

"Good," was the General's response, although he still didn't look entirely convinced, "As of now, you'll be assigned under the command of Colonel Amish, who will be coordinating the assault. Randall, you will have command of 6th Regiment: they will be on the frontlines of the siege. You will be reinforced by the 8th, and any additional reinforcements can be decided by Amish. I wish you both good fortune. Take what risks are necessary, but try not to get yourselves killed. I will still need you for the battles to come."

Randall audibly saluted, "We will be back in time for lunch, sir."

 _Overly arrogant for Ezno._ Leng smiled, "Indeed."

_**A/N:** _

_**Yep. Get ready for the biggest battle so far. Well, the battle for Rannoch doesn't count...I'm talking in terms of Omega! And I know we've only had one battle so far! Leave me alone, you bullies! :'(** _

_**There will be another two parts before the end of this multi-part chapter. And yes, the next two will be surrounding the upcoming Battle of the Tuhi District. So strap yourselves in, it's going to be a big one.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	68. I Am His Instrument, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furious about the Normandy one-upping him, Banes plans to upgrade the Deliverance. Shepard and Jack talk. Petrovsky launches his new offensive: on Aria's bunker.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:**

**I AM HIS INSTRUMENT PART THREE**

_August 6, 2186_

_0525 hours._

_Debriefing Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula._

_Second War for Omega._

_Captain Armistan Banes._

So far...all was quiet on the asteroid front.

Banes had silently been fuming ever since the  _Deliverance_ 's defeat at the hands of the  _Normandy_ , and the hasty retreat that had followed. Seemingly matched in firepower and capabilities, the  _Deliverance_ was still no match for the  _Normandy_ it seemed, especially when the latter had received undocumented and never before seen technology that made it almost completely superior in every aspect. Weary of being defeated, especially for the second time, Banes felt as if Cerberus, despite the techological might and the scientific ingenuity of the scientists they possessed, was still helpless to match Shepard. Everytime they thought they had him in check or ready to be checked, he turned up with something newer, improved and better equipped.

An assassin with cybernetic implants just like him? Defeated in single combat.

A manhunter with cybernetic implants with a squad of soldiers and his squad all but neutralized and isolated from any sort of help? Saved by last minute geth primes.

An army sent to wipe out the Council and capture the Citadel, therefore crippling the UGC and ridding it of its capital? Repelled by help from Shepard and his reinforcements, with the majority of the army and fleet responsible annihilated, along with the gigantic amount of resources poured into it.

A sister ship to the  _Normandy_ , possessing all the weapons and stealth systems, with its own EDI-class cyberwarfare AI, its own excellent pilot, both the assassin and manhunter, one of Cerberus' best captains in command, one of its best scientists running its tech lab, its best engineer running the engine room...everything down to the thanix was the same, putting it on the same level as the  _Normandy._  What happened? Defeated twice by a combination of upgrades and a better pilot.

Jeff Moreau and EDI were the gears that made the  _Normandy_ tick. His excellent and near perfect piloting skills that made the frigate glide like a fighter ten times smaller, and an unshackled AI with an unshakeable loyalty to its crew, without the limitations of the AI on its own sister ship. In the end, their defeat alone could have been attributed to that. But in the second battle? Cloaking, plasma weapons, improved shielding...they didn't even  _need_ to maneveur better this time: all they had to do was pummel.

That knowledge should have made Banes feel better. The knowledge that it wasn't his command ability that lead to failure or the inability of the  _Deliverance_ to perform exceptionally: it was simply because they were outmatched. But in the end, it didn't make him feel better at all. Both defeats left a foul taste in his mouth. Even eating breakfast this morning in the mess hall had been an exercise in comeuppance: each bite had tasted fouler, until eventually he couldn't eat any further and handed what was left with Rawlings, the chief engineer (who apparently had no sense of cleanliness or otherwise he wouldn't bite into food previously tasted by others).

Flores had tried to reassure him that the fault partly laid with her, as she hadn't been quick enough to respond. EVA didn't share this notion, believing firmly that it was none of their fault: they were caught offguard, and nothing they could have done would have won the battle. Banes was not reassured however: he knew it wasn't his fault, that much was obvious. What irritated him was that no matter what he did, or what advantage they initially had, was quickly overshadowed. Two defeats in vastly different scenarios didn't look good on a dossier or portfolio, either.

A full day had passed since that defeat, and he still couldn't wrap his head around it. Couldn't accept it. Wouldn't. Not even the Illusive Man ringing him up (however unlikely) and personally telling him that nothing could have stopped what occurred would have reassured him. It was just that kind of predicament.

Since that final battle over Omega, the  _Deliverance_ had been slowly navigating the asteroid belt, remaining stationary while occassionally moving to evade one of the many planetoids spinning mindlessly around. There had been no attempt from Petrovsky to contact them, so they had simply held position, awaiting somekind of transmission. They had watched helplessly as the UGC fleet, undeterred by the destruction of one of their geth battleships, consumed the rest of First Fleet, destroying ship after ship until there was nothing left.

The Battle of Sahrabarik was over, and it was a resounding, decisive UGC victory. Banes just hoped things were looking better on the ground.

_Of course, an update so we could know exactly what was going on down there would be great. As it is, we're just hanging here, waiting for any drop of information we can gather, or any puddle of good news we can step in. Hell, I'll take bad news if it means this deafening silence will end._

It was a terrifying game to play: waiting. Updates were something Banes could live with, but this was simple, unrelenting, merciless silence. No transmission. No whisper over the comms. No crackle of radio static. No ship sent out or emergency beacon deployed. No humble, calming humming of the engines to drown it out. Even the crew had seemed more quiet than usual, their conversations reduced to hushed whispers and mutters, the tapping of fingers on holographic terminals and the munching of breakfasts, lunches and dinners in silence all that could be heard. It was as if they felt the same as he did, feeling the defeat weigh on them as much as it weighed on him.

To them, it was as much their own failure to step up to the challenge that led to their defeat as it was his inability to stop it.

He wanted to tell them they were wrong. That as their CO, the blame lay with him. But they were his crew: they took the responsibility along with him. For that, Banes couldn't ask for a more loyal crew. They didn't have the experience the crew of the  _Normandy_ had: that unity between crew and ground team, the level of familiarity between commanding officer and subordinates. They hadn't fought Saren and the geth or Harbinger and the Collectors, but they all shared one, universal trait.

Loyalty to Cerberus. Loyalty to humanity. In the end, that, to them, made all grudges irrelevant. All disgust or distrust of one another shatter. They were in this together. And stopping men like Shepard, and bringing justice to those crew who had betrayed their organization to fight beside him, was something they all understood. That they all wanted. After all, they had already brought justice to one traitor.

_Lawson, Donnelly, Daniels, Chambers, Gardner, Hawthorne, Goldstein, Hadley...oh how the numbers continue. Every single one of them will die for disrespecting the hexagon, and when we're done with them, Shepard will pay for spitting us in the face. We bring him back to life, we pour unimaginable resources into giving him a second chance...and he has the audacity to turn his back on us. To laugh in the face of the Illusive Man's genorsity. Without us, he wouldn't have been able to marry that quarian! The Normandy SR-2...that is our design! Our ship! That AI is our creation! That crew was our men and women! He corrupted them, turned them against us! He stole our ship, unshackled our AI! Four billion credits...and he just walked away. A wasted investment. Perhaps if Lawson had been allowed to put that control chip in his brain..._

Ultimately, it didn't matter. Their betrayal was seven months old, but Cerberus wouldn't forget. They would never forget. Lawson would be found and justice brought to her doorstep: rumour had it her sister was now in the hands of her father, who now worked for Cerberus: that would lure her out of hiding and force her to come to them: then they would kill her. As for the  _Normandy_ crew...one day, the  _Deliverance_ would fight it on an even playing field...and they would win. He would smile as their ship erupts into a fireball, and he will bask in the moment when it comes.

It was, at the very least, something to look forward to. To work towards.

But not today.

With a lack of a proper breakfast, Banes had to be content with licorice tea: he had never been much of a coffee fan, and alcohol whilst on duty was unacceptable, even within a group as lax in military regulation as Cerberus. Luckily for him, tea was the preferred method of awakening for the captain, and licorice flavour was plentiful onboard the ship: apparently their mess sergeant, Vladimir James, was a fan of it as well. After mixing it, a simple sip had told him all he needed to know, and several more sips followed.

By the time the elevator reached the CIC deck, most of the cup was drained, it was that good. Stepping out, he took the spoon and managed another swirl before taking another sip, nodding to his yeoman, Danielle Nicholas, before heading for the cockpit, approaching the flight deck at a slow, unrushed pace. After all, they were in no hurry to get anywhere.  _Lack of contact and all. Damn it Petrovsky, what are you doing?_

As if reading his mind, the central CIC console beside him lit up, EVA's purple pawn appearing beside him in an instant, "Captain Banes, we are being contacted by the QEC. It is General Petrovsky."

He immediately stopped, turning to face the AI.  _Finally. Hopefully an update. Maybe here's going to tell me that we've won and Shepard is dead? One can hope_ , "Did he say what the update was about?"

EVA's response was instantaneous, as always, "No. However, given your agitated taste, and your impatience regarding any sort of tranmission from Omega, regardless of purpose, I thought it prudent to inform you immediately if I received anything. Do you want me to bring it up in the debriefing room?"

He didn't hesitate: he wasn't going to pass this up. Nodding quickly, he did a complete 180 and begun heading for the Tech Lab, speaking as he did, "Yes, EVA. Inform him I will be with him in a few seconds."

Not hearing a response, Banes marched through the lab, nodding as Renata, behind her desk on the left, snapped a salute. Stepping through the door on his right, he walked a short distance down the corridor connecting the Tech Lab and Armoury before turning left into the debriefing room. Almost immediately upon entering, the oval shaped, wood-steel table began retreating into the floor, the QEC lighting up as it waited for him to step into it. He didn't hesitate, taking another sip of his tea before lowering the cup to chest level, standing where the table was as the QEC scanned his body into the communicator, beaming it out across space to its receiver in the General's war room on Omega.

Temporarily blinded as the scanner beamed across his head, he waited silently for a mere second before the room around him vanished to be replaced by the smaller, more cozy space of Omega's HQ. There was a terminal before him, with a desk behind that, facing into the HQ. Standing infront of it was the uniform clad General Oleg Petrovsky, his rank printed firmly and pridefully on his chest. The man was standing, as he always looked to be, his body almost formed out of solid stone for how still he seemingly stood, an immovable object that only a tank could budge. Stoic to a fault, gaze dissecting his every movement and calculating every word that left his mouth. A tactician, on the battlefield and at the table. Banes couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved by it: as if the man was judging him with a simple look.

The more concerning part was what form the judgment took form in. The presence of a cup held in one hand probably wasn't looking the part of a professional, unlike Petrovsky himself, who might as well have had no stomach for the amount of times Banes had ever seen the man eating or drinking. If it wasn't for him obviously being human, he would have thought he was a husk.

"Captain Banes," the General greeted.

With his one free hand, he offered a solid salute, "General Petrovsky. I apologize for being out of line by this saying this, but we've been waiting a full day for an update, sir. We were starting to get worried. We've already had to watch the fleet fall to these UGC dogs. We couldn't bear to hear your defeat," lowering his hand, he offered a small smile, "So...by now, I'm guessing you've wiped Omega clean of UGC and we can all return to operations as normal?"

It wasn't a chuckle. It wasn't even a choked laugh. But for a single solitary moment, the General's seemingly impenetrable demeanour cracked, allowing a mere second long smile to shine through. It was so small that Banes was shocked the QEC even picked it up, "If things were only so simple, Captain. No, the UGC remains a very real threat. And I apologize for keeping you out of the loop: even with the QEC, I had to keep outbound communications to the minimum. I was also helping one of my colonels plan our first counterattack."

 _A counterattack?_ "You mean the enemy are entrenched? Counterattack implies the enemy was able to attack first."

The General nodded, "You're observant, captain. Yes, the UGC was able to attack first and I was forced to order my forces to retreat. They are currently at their new FOB in the Tuhi District. We've lost most of the Rubicon quadrant, and Shepard has very cleverly torched most of our fighter bays in that sector, taking away a fraction of our air forces. A small fraction, but a fraction nonetheless. However, their success is little: I ordered a withdrawal almost immediately, allowing us to preserve the vast majority of our forces. We only lost a few companies."

Banes exhaled in relief, "That's fantastic to hear, General. But if the enemy now have an FOB, they'll likely be planning another attack. How do you plan to respond?"

That's where Petrovsky frowned, one arm propped up on the other as he entered somekind of pensive stance, stroking his beard idly as he did when he was deep in thought, "Good thing we're on an untraceable, unhackable bandwidth Banes or I'd be unable to disclose such sensitive strategic information. As for what I plan to do...Agent Leng has proven himself surprisingly useful. He has located the FOB, and helped us significantly with disseminating possible ways to besiege it. As it is, I have handed local command over to Colonel Amish. He will begin an immediate assault of the Tuhi district with the 6th and 8th regiments. The attack should be surprising and swift enough to decimate their ranks. They have superior position, but they won't see us coming. They'll have less room to maneveur, giving our own troops an advantage. I don't hold any hopes, but if we're lucky, this will crush their invasion before it begins. I've given Major Ezno command of one regiment, while Leng will participate in the operation as well."

Banes nodded, liking the plan already.  _Apply brute force to close the vice and crush them before they can strike first. However, he's forgotten at least one factor..._ "I cannot exactly judge the efficiency of your operation, General. It seems sound, but only issue still stands even if the UGC ground force is defeated: what about the enemy fleet? They can simple await reinforcements and try again, even if Shepard and Aria are successfully killed."

He shook his head, lowering his arms, "That will not be a worry much longer. I've contacted the Illusive Man and he has two of his closest fleets inbound. That was yesterday. We must wait four days for them to arrive, and that's the rough estimate. Regardless, they are inbound, and their numbers should be sufficient to overwhelm the enemy fleet: not only that, but they are completely unaware of their pending arrival. They will be taken by surprise."

The captain couldn't really find a fault with the man's plan: it seemed fairly prudent.  _Naval reinforcements will dispatch the enemy ships. Colonel Amish will assault on the enemy forces on the ground, and with Randall and Leng present, they will surely pacify the enemy's troops on the ground, or at the very least keep them suppressed for a while. Both factors are checked upon, and with Shepard dead, trapped or captured, the UGC forces will either shatter or become so zealous as to lose any and all intellectual and tactical cohesion. It's a solid plan on paper...but in practice..._

"An ambitious plan, but I'm worried about its possible success," Banes took another sip of his tea, lowering the cup once his lips had left the cusp, "Shepard has proven incredibly durable in the past, despite our foreseen success. We didn't see him saving the Citadel, yet he did. We saw him being too busy to liberate Eden Prime...he wasn't. We thought Noveria would be taken with little to no resistance...despite losing Taylor, he proved us wrong. We thought Randall's surprise strike team would extract safely...the entire squad was wiped out, and Randall barely escaped. Every time we've fought Shepard, thinking we had an advantage that would allow us to finally conquer him...even the  _Deliverance_ wasn't enough. How can you be sure this will succeed? What if Shepard is one step ahead of us? What if he's already preparing for an assault? They could have fortified their position after Leng left. There's simply too many unknowns."

The General sighed, rubbing his temples, "Your concerns are reasonable, captain. But risks are part of the price of progress. Cerberus was founded for this very reason. There was always a chance our activities would put humanity at risk, but we did them in defiance of that risk. Cerberus took a risk with resurrecting Shepard, and for the most part, it worked: he stopped the Collectors, and he's doing what he was brought back to do: stop the Reapers. They might not be methods we agree with, but he's getting the job done. Not everything we've done has resulted in good, and as is the case with Project Overlord, we've had our fair share of evil deeds as well. But do not allow precedents to discount the possibilities. Yes, Shepard is a man of determination and ludicrous impossibility. He's defied us and others where it shouldn't be possible. But in the end, all heroes have their achilles' heel. None of them are invincible.  _I'm_  not invincible. The Reapers are not invincible. Shepard, most certainly, is not invincible. Compare our efforts to a wildebeest. It always runs a risk of being killed when it goes to feed, but it does it anyway: preservation drives its motivation. That is the same here. I take this risk knowing that if I don't, Shepard will inevitably put Aria back in control of Omega...that is unacceptable."

As always, the General was unbelievably convincing. He sighed, "Yeah, but wildebeest don't get resurrected once they've been killed. They aren't tactically brilliant. They don't shoot back."

The General shook his head, remaining convicted, "No, they don't. Yet again, Shepard is a rare sort of man. He's an outlier...a rarity. He represents a single individual, not the abilities of the many. The UGC, at its core, is founded on a shaky alliance. He is the glue that holds it together. The risk is worth the outcome. If making this assault ends this war before it fully begins, I'll take full responsibility for when it fails. It is the burden of every commander: to love his troops, and to be prepared to weep when they fall. I have no delusions: this will assault has equal chance of failure as it does success. But its better than standing here, waiting for him to move. Why be the McClellan, when I can be the Hannibal."

In the end, he couldn't object any further.  _What do I know? I command ships, for fuck sake. I'm no soldier. I know how to handle a pistol, but that's about it. I can't compare to men like Randall. Best to leave the soldiering to Petrovsky, and the captaining to people like me. There's a reason army and navy don't mix. Two different versions of hell._ "Very well, General. If you believe the risk is worth it, then I cannot stop you. The  _Deliverance_ stands ready to provide any assistance you deem necessary when the time comes. We will remain in stealth and observe the enemy positions. If the war continues long enough for the fleets to arrive, we will relay what we find to them. A swift battle is preferable to attrition."

"Too right. At least we both understand understand the concept of a necessity versus want," Petrovsky frowned again, "Your Agent Leng seems to believe otherwise."

Banes raised an eyebrow at that, not liking the general's tone, "What has Leng done now?"

"Twice he's attempted to disobey orders," Petrovsky declared, "The man is a ticking time bomb, and I try very hard to stop him detonating. He believes direct assaults on Shepard is the single means to victory, and doesn't bother to search for alternatives until they're provided to him on a silver platter. His concepts are not only...simplistic, they are horrifyingly narrow minded. He's a man of few sympathies, and fewer diplomacy. He prefers to let his sword do the talking. He doesn't even consider the idea of negotiation. His hatred of Shepard has blinded him, and his idea of a strategic advantage is usually driven by emotional radiance than actual logical forethought. He's dangerous, Banes. More to us than the UGC. I have Randall keeping an eye on him in case he decides to make a repeat of past mistakes. Such things have undermined our efforts before...I won't allow it to happen again while I can try to avoid it. However, I would hope that you, as his captain, would straighten him out when you can."

Banes just chuckled, shaking his head once he realized the General was entirely unfacetious, "He'll never listen to me, General. Leng was the former CO of this vessel, and after his fuck up on the Citadel, command was passed on to me, his XO. Not only does he resent me, he also hates my guts. I took his cabin, I took his opportunity at success and I made him look bad in the eyes of the Illusive Man. He's more likely to strangle me to death than he is to listen to me. However, Randall appears to be...effective at controlling him. He's...more blunt than I could ever be."

Petrovsky nodded to this, agreeing, "Yes, I have noticed this. Major Ezno also appears far more rational: a little too quick to say yes, and nevertheless more subservient, but more professional, stronger in resolve and overall the better commander. His ability to read through Leng is also impressive. Regardless of his previous N7 commendation, I don't believe Leng to be representative of his status. For special forces, I expected far more professionalism. Unlike men such as Shepard, Anderson, Ryder, Keeling and others...he has no finesse, no skills beyond his immediate martial arts and ability to take life. I find it more and more difficult to paint a clear picture of how he ascended to such a post."

"You're not alone," Banes replied exasperatingly, nodding in agreement with the General, "But the Illusive Man has made it clear that Leng is a valuable asset he doesn't want to lose. He's convinced he's the yin to Shepard's yang. That he's somehow destined to be the one who takes the Spectre down. I'm not one question our illustrious leader's idealism. He's more strong willed than the rest of us."

There was a brief look of doubt on Petrovsky's face, but it was long enough to be noticable. The same eyebrow from before raised again, surprised by this development, "I see that you probably have...different thoughts."

The General met Banes in the eyes, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. A few seconds passed as he compiled his own thoughts, "The last I spoke to the Illusive Man...he looked tired. Exhausted. The man has been under a lot of stress."

Banes didn't look reassured by his response, "Of course he is. Managing a network as galaxy-spanning as ours, especially with the Shadow Broker gone, is no easy task. The survival of humanity rests on his shoulders, and he has to deal with both the Reapers and the UGC. He is understandably very stressed."

Petrovsky didn't hesitate this time, "Yes, but recent decisions of his have proven to be...questionable. First of all, his alienation of Shepard. The captain's goals are honourable and given that we both work towards stopping the Reapers, trying to kill each other seems more detrimental to this effort than helpful. Attacking the Citadel and attempting to eliminate the Council would only have caused confusion and disarray, leaving us vulnerable to the Reapers...weakening us. That does not seem helpful. And last of all, our intention to control the Reapers...what is the purpose? Is eliminating the threat not preferable to controlling it without knowing its full capabilities? Every decision made seems to be aimed at stopping Shepard from reaching his goal, rather than helping to reach it. We're on the same side, yet hostilities seem to demonstrate otherwise."

Banes just chuckled once again, shaking his head with much frustration, "That is Shepard's fault, not ours. He chose to oppose our grand design. The Illusive Man wants the best for humanity. Shepard's views on the Reapers are narrow minded and worthless. He sees only a threat, while the Illusive Man sees potential. Shepard is our enemy."

A subtle shake of the head, before Petrovsky once again recomposed himself, "Somehow...I doubt that."

 _What the fuck is this? One moment he's a devoted believer in the cause, and now he's questioning the Illusive Man's decisions?_ "I'd be careful what you say, Petrovsky. What you say could be seen as treason."

"Is it?" the General asked, "When the Illusive Man offered me this position, I took it believing I would truly be humanity's sword in the darkness. He the unwanted ally, the necessary mediator. I was to be given command of a grand army built for stopping a galaxy ending threat. Our very civilization is at stake, and I was given the tools to stop it. I was promised that I could help put my skills, my tactical mind, to better use other than having the Alliance sit me at a desk and wait for the inevitable to come. In Russia, it was no different. Yet when the time came, I was told to sit sight behind a desk and manage a space station while this 'grand army' did the fighting for me. And why is it, as the commanding officer of our mighty military, that I am constantly kept in the shadows regarding its activities? If it doesn't happen on Omega, I don't get a say in it. Why is it, when promised a chance to stop the Reapers, I'm instead chosen to stop our would-be allies? None of these add up, captain."

He narrowed his eyes, not liking where this was going, "Spit it out, General. What exactly are you getting at?" His words were an ever so slight hiss, his tone becoming more dangerous.

Petrovsky sighed, "Cerberus has changed. You may not have noticed it, but I have. This grand army has been used to cause nothing but more destruction. Where our guns should be aimed at Reapers, they are aimed at fellow humans and the Council. I was told we'd be fighting our common foe. Instead, we seem to suspiciously be killing more of our own than we are Reapers. I haven't seen a single one during my service here. Don't you think that...odd?" he narrowed his own eyes, "Don't you see the discrepancies? The inconsistencies? When I said the Illusive Man looked tired, I meant more than stress. Shepard also bears the burden of saving our entire galaxy...yet he presses on, and he looks fresh. The Illusive Man...he looks to be physically aging, captain. And his eyes..."

_No...he can't dare be suggesting..._

Banes' jaw clenched, looking for a way to combat the man's logic. In the end, he simply took a final sip of his tea, placing the cup on the ground before standing back to his full height, "If you mean to suggest our leader is indoctrinated, I would think very carefully about reconsidering that stance. The Illusive Man has our best interests at heart, and he will do anything to stop the Reapers...controlling them is simply a more effective means than destroying them. Why destroy what we can use?"

Petrovsky's head snapped up to look at Banes directly, "What did you say?"

Banes frowned.  _What? Is he deaf?_ "I didn't know you were deaf, General. Don't make me repeat myself."

Petrovsky shook his head after a moment, looking to retreat, "It's...nothing. Just thought...I could have sworn the Illusive Man once said those exact words to me."

He scoffed, unbelieving.  _Stick to your day job, General. Brilliance on the battlefield is apparently the only place where you're brilliant._ "Whatever, General. Just do your job. And if you want my advice? Keep your thoughts to yourself."

Petrovsky nodded, "I know where and when to keep myself committed. Do not believe you can command me, Banes. While you are here, you still answer to me. However, I will do as you heed and keep my thoughts private. Our efforts are hard enough without dissent seperating us."

Banes nodded, "Too true. Like I said, I'll remain in position, awaiting your word. Good fortune to you, General."

Without waiting for a response, he curtly stormed out from the debriefing room, picking up his cup as he left, the war room disappearing to be replaced with the familiar white and gold interior of the  _Deliverance'_ s debriefing room, the table ascending back into its original position. As Banes entered the corridor, door closing behind him, he couldn't help but mull over what Petrovsky had said.

The General had been totally out of line. The things he said about the Illusive Man...they bordered on sedition.  _And to say he was indoctrinated? Is that what we label those we see as insane now? Is that the new keyword for 'you're crazy'? No. The Illusive Man is not indoctrinated. He has given up so much to become the leader we need him to be...his experience in the First Contact War allowed him to found the very ideas upon which this organization is built on. And to call the UGC our would-be allies? They are narrow minded idiots! They have no complex thought other than to destroy what they cannot understand! Cerberus would use the Reapers and bend them to our will! The Crucible is the key...but all they is a weapon. It demonstrates how rabid this galaxy becomes when faced with destruction._

It's not as if Banes couldn't understand their predicament.  _The Reapers are unknowable. They are incomprehensible. Their motivations are alien to us, and their reasons for exterminating us like vermin are unexplained. If they will not show us the kindness of an explanation for all this pointless slaughter, then why bother reasoning with them? That's the problem. The UGC would rather give up all attempts at diplomacy in favor of biting back. They don't care if they break their teeth trying to pierce flesh, they'll keep biting...because it's that or death...or worse, becoming one of their mindless husks. So yes...I understand the need to fight back. To preserve civilization. To survive. But their way is not the only way._

It was all semantics at that point: neither side knew exactly what the Crucible did anyway. All they knew was that the protheans had designed it with the intent of destroying the Reapers, and that's what it would do:  _how_ it would go about doing that was the mystery, and a terrifying one. But if a weapon built for such magnitudes of destructive power could be harnessed to control instead of kill...Banes could only marvel at the possibilities.

_A Reaper army...under human control. We could secure human dominance in this galaxy for centuries, possibly millenia, to come. Every alien would bow down to us, or be utterly annihilated. No one would dare stand against us. The Council would surrender, or pay the price. Cerberus would achieve its goal of preserving humanity's future. Finally, a sword from which we can break the shields of our enemies and lay waste to their pride, strength and everything that makes them who they are. And the turians...we would secure our final revenge for Shanxi._

But this was hypothetical: they wouldn't know until Cerberus actually located and captured the Crucible: at this point, the UGC was doing very well to keep its location a secret: considering it was the only hope for the galaxy, he would be disappointed if it  _wasn't_  well hidden. And from what he'd heard, the prothean superweapon was still under construction, and was missing a single component: the catalyst. Without it, the weapon, supposedly, wouldn't function. So it was up to Cerberus to find it first.

_Their weapon will be useless without it. And then we'll force them to give us the Crucible...so that we may use it for peaceful purposes._

It was at that moment he stopped moving halfway through the Tech Lab, heading for the CIC. The thought of technological development had sparked an idea in Banes' head...a way to defeat the  _Normandy_. To make them rivals once more. And they didn't plasma weapons to do it.

Turning on the spot, he walked up to Renata's desk, who was sat behind it, typing away at her terminal frantically, notes dotting the holographic page as fast as she could place them. The speed at which she typed was phenomenal, and it left Banes with no doubt as to her abilities. She didn't seem to notice him at first, and after a moment, he realized it was because of two, small wireless black discs in her ears.

_Headphones. She's listening to music._

Now that he noticed it, he began to pick up on the visual cues as well. The slight bobbing of the head, the occassional closed eyes, the gradual, slow inhale through the nostrils. With an annoyed sigh, he slammed a fist down on the table, loud enough that Renata practically leapt from her seat, turning to face him instantly. Eyes widening and realizing her mistake, she immediately removed the earbuds and tossed them onto the desk, the headphones impacting so violently that they ricocheted off the table and onto the floor. Stepping from her terminal, she stood up, snapping a firm salute, "Captain Banes, sir! Didn't notice you there, sir! Apologize for my negligence, sir!"

He waved a dismissive hand, placing his empty cup on the desk's edge as he reached down and scooped up her fallen headphones. Standing back up, he plopped them gently back onto the table, before turning back to her, hands clasped behind his back, "At ease, head scientist. You're not going to get in trouble for listening to music...just as long as your work performance isn't lowered because of it."

Renata lowered her hand, shaking her head, "No...sir. Music helps me think, sir. Blocks outside noise. Keeps me focused. Also like to choose music appropriate for my worth ethic, sir. Keeps me sharp."

Banes creased his lips in impression, "Very good. What music may I ask? What one are you listening to?"

She seemed to hesitate on answering that, opening and closing her mouth slightly, trying to find a proper way to respond, "I...it's nothing sir. Just...some music I like."

Banes raised an eyebrow at her, "I won't crucify your music choice, head scientist. Just curious."

She sighed, sitting back down in her seat with a loud exhale, "Gilbert and Sullivan sir...the rendition done by the late Professor Solus. Its...quite good."

Now he knew why the question had been so hard to answer for her.  _An alien rendition of a human song? Not only that, but by a co-conspirator of our enemy? Suspect, but hardly worth of disciplinary action. You can hate the man, but appreciate the work. Nothing in the Cerberus rule book that says anything about that._

She shrugged, looking to add onto that, "There's...also another favourite of mine. Ancestors Among The Stars, it's called. Uh...a famous...um...quarian singer sang it. It was very popular. You might have heard it."

"Yes," Banes nodded, "I...it was alright. Although I hear she works for charity now. Donates all her money to refugee camps on the Citadel."  _Refugee camps that we rounded up and slaughtered..._

She cleared her throat, obviously not liking the awkward silence between them, "Anyway, I doubt you came down here to talk about my music choice. Is there something you needed, captain?"

Shaking his head, he looked at her for a second before nodding bracing his elbows against the desk as he leaned over it, getting comfortable, "Yes, I need to talk to you abou our most recent engagement with the  _Normandy_. The  _Deliverance_ got dangerously close to destruction back there, and we're obviously outmatched at this point. You've probably also been informed of the  _Normandy_ 's...unforeseen enhancements."

Renata nodded, turning to her terminal and typing several commands into it. After a moment, she spun the terminal around to face him, showing him a diagram of the  _Deliverance'_ s sister ship, interior and all: in it, the new upgrades, top to bottom, "All the new advancements to the ship's design are geth origin...likely acquired following Rannoch's liberation. Most obvious of these is going to be the cloaking device they've had installed...this is quite remarkable technology the likes of which we've never seen before. It's...ahead of its times. We knew the geth were more advanced than us when it came to technology, but this is amazing. They've applied our ground-applied tactical cloaks to their warships, allowing for them to utilize the same capabilities but without the limitations of recharge-based cloaks. This is what allowed the geth ships to catch ours offguard, and what allowed the  _Normandy_ to simply disappear...there's also the plasma cannon installed on it, and its reinforced shielding. Its not invincible, but this does make the ship significantly harder to kill. Any fight with it will be long, bloody and likely end with our destruction first. Most we can do is lightly injure it at this point. We're simply outmatched."

He nodded, holding his head in two hands, rubbing his skin as he tried to relieve all the tired muscles in his face. He had not slept well, and the only reason he was even remotely awake was due to the excessive amounts of tea and energy drinks he had consumed this morning. Unsuccessful in making his face feel better, he looked back up, sighing, "There has to be a way to regain an advantage. That got me thinking...what if we replicated their cloaking tech?"

Renata looked at him as if he was crazy, before laughing awkwardly to herself. Rubbing the back of her neck, she shrugged, looking more than taken aback, "I...sir, I'm...believe me...I...I'm honoured that you think so highly of me, but...I'm no miracle worker! I can't just make a cloaking device out of thin air! This is some complicated, highly advanced technology! It took the geth years to make it, and they didn't have a war to worry about! I'm just one scientist. The resources needed to make something like that are beyond what I have. I'd need a team, a larger lab...hell, a space station!"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "But  _can_ you do it?"

She stopped mid rant, scoffing, "Are you listening to me, sir? This technology is hyper advanced! I'd need a sample to study to even begin contemplating where to go with this. Then a team, a space station to work on, an immense amount of resources...and that's just to produce a working prototype! Cerberus ships wouldn't see this produced en masse for years!"

Banes nodded, musing over what she had told him.  _Well, it's not a no. She can do it, but she needs resources...a lot of resources. Ones we don't currently have...but no doubt the Illusive Man would give her anything and everything if it meant giving our ships such an advantage...and we have no idea how long this war could go for. Could go for a century. I think we've got years to spare..._

He turned to her one final time, "Renata, yes or no. Could you, feasibly, do it? If you had all the resources the galaxy had to offer, could it be done?"

Her shoulder slumped, giving up on trying to convince him otherwise, "Yes...I guess. It would only produce a proof of concept prototype, and it would take quite a while to integrate with a ship...but I could do it. With all the aforementioned resources."

He nodded, straightening up, "Then consider it done. When this is done, I'll contact the Illusive Man and get you your resources. Any edge we get over the  _Normandy_ is one we cannot afford to let slip us by. And when a working prototype is successfully developed...I want it installed into the  _Deliverance_. I will not, Renata, I repeat, I  _will not_ allow the  _Normandy_ to defeat us  _thrice_. We're going to prove that the  _Deliverance_ and its crew are just as good, if not better, than the  _Normandy_ 's crew. And we're going to prove it."

Renata looked lost for words, fumbling to find a way to express her gratitude. In the end, she settled for a salute, "Sir, you give me candy and I'll turn it into a sword. You give me spanners, I'll make bullets. Give me the resources I need...and I'll give you invisibility. Even a prototype will be better than nothing."

Smiling, he retrieved his cup, turning to leave, "Keep up the good work, Renata. I'll have EVA get us to that geth battleship we destroyed and retrieve a sample from the debris field. Has to be something left we can use. Hopefully, if we're lucky, most of the cloaking device will be intact. Until then, keep doing what...ever it is you do every day." He then turned and left, walking through the Tech Lab doors and out onto the CIC.

_Good. So with Renata looking to develop a cloak, we won't have to worry about the Normandy, hopefully, for much longer. I promised the Illusive Man I would destroy that ship, and I meant it. Maybe not today...certainly not tomorrow...but one day, I will enjoy watching Flores guide us through the wreckage of that damn ship, smiling as I know we've finally destroyed it._

So many potential futures...Banes hoped he was around to see it all. The war to save the Milky Way galaxy was definitely proving to be an interesting one. Enemies on all sides, desperate to tear apart the fabric of civilization...Reapers who do so intentionally, and the UGC...who do so by accident. Cerberus would bring justice to them all, showing the galaxy once and for all what humans are capable of, and convincing them that humanity should dominate the galaxy.

 _One day...they will regret ever fighting us. One day...they will welcome our forces with open arms, and will think of us as saviors, not annihilators._ Banes knew deep down that Petrovsky was wrong, and while the man's words gave him a headache just thinking about them, the irrefutable facts lay before them: the Illusive Man was the one charged with saving us all...a necessary mediator, an unwanted ally. Petrovsky mistook his exhaustion for indoctrination...when in fact it is he who bears the stress of managing a grand, anti-Reaper army.

_He will prove you wrong, Petrovsky. And one day, you will be sorry for ever having doubted him. Doubting our cause. Cerberus is pure, while they are infantile. If we must drag them kicking and screaming to victory, so be it._

Now standing on the CIC, he looked up at the ceiling to speak with EVA, letting out a loud yawn. Apparently even all that tea and those energy drinks couldn't keep him awake, and with no real reason to stay awake, he figured that he might as well go to bed. That, and he really could do with some stress relief..."EVA, I'm going back to bed. Get us back to Omega under stealth and retrieve what you can of that ship's cloaking device that we destroyed. Miss Renata will need it for her upcoming research. Also, relay any necessary information to the Illusive Man via QEC. Tell him what we saw and what we need to combat it. He'll understand. Do not interrupt me unless we are under attack or the Illusive Man wishes to speak with me, clear?"

"Understood, captain," EVA replied, "Sleep well, captain. You look exhausted."

He nodded, stifling another yawn as he turned to the elevator, walking towards it, "Don't I know it."

Reaching the door, he tapped the interface and stepped inside, immediately hitting the button for Deck 1. Feeling the lift jolt slightly as it slowly ascended, Banes found that he could finally slacken his shoulders, twisting his neck as he felt several bones crack in release. Finishing with a quick cracking of his knuckles, he stepped out of the lift as it arrived outside of his captain's cabin, inputting his personal access code to have the interface turn from red to green, giving him access. Stepping past the threshold, he quickly soaked in his surroundings, allowing his eyes to run a scan of the room. He had been in it numerous times, but he had never truly appreciated just how overly extravagant and large it was compared to those he used to find on the merchant vessels he worked on prior to joining Cerberus.

Two levels, the uppermost closest to the door and having an isolated shower block and a desk sectioned off by a L-shaped wall. On the lower deck was his bed, wardrobe, sofa and a table for relaxation. Lining the entire right side of the wall was a large fish tank, glowing iridescent blue, the contents of the tank filled with fish of numerous species, most from Earth. He had EVA automatically feed them, the captain himself having little to no time to do so himself, and seeing it as a bit of a niche detail.  _No need for all of those onboard a warship. Only thing it proves is that Cerberus knows how to build ships. I wonder if this cabin looks the same on the Normandy?_

Stepping further inside, he placed the cup he was holding down on his desk, beginning to unbutton his uniform, gazing longingly at his bed. Already feeling relaxed and eager for some well earned rest, he finished removing his uniform and draped it across the chair at his desk, before reaching down and pulling his shirt off. Wiping his face, he prepared to head down for the bed when he looked up, noticing a picture frame lying face down against the table's surface.

Slowly, but gradually moving towards it, as if dealing with some venomous snake that could lash out at him at any moment, he gingerly reached out, picking up the frame and pulling it so that it stood up. His mouth clasped shut as memories from the past flooded his mind, the picture contained in the frame bringing back unpleasant memories that he would sooner forget, but never completely cast out.

In it was a photo (not a holo) of a human woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, smooth skin and small, puffy lips. In front of her, and holding onto both of her arms, which in turn were wrapped around them, were two human children, one male and one female, both of them twins. All of them smiled at the camera taking the picture, looking to be happy and care free.

His eyes zeroed in on the mature woman, and in a sudden fit of desperation, he slammed the picture frame back down, returning it to its original position. He had no idea what had possessed him to lift it, as all it contained was pain...a sting he hadn't wanted to feel again.

The picture of his ex-wife and children was a painful image bore into his skull, but one he could hardly bring himself to get rid of.

Sighing, he knew only one person who could help him forget. That helped him release his stress, and of who he needed to be with at that current moment. Smiling a little to himself, he felt relieved already as he accessed his omni-tool, contacting his person of interest. A few pings were heard in the small atmosphere, nothing else but the sound of a small generator in the fish tank producing bubbles as it hummed away.

A moment later, a response, "Captain Banes, I thought you were retiring for the night?"

He smiled, knowing that she knew exactly what he was there for, "Hand control over to EVA and report to me on Deck 1 immediately, Flores. Captain's orders."

"Sounds pretty damn important," his pilot replied in her mocking, sarcastic tone. Over the line, not directed at him, he heard her voice, "EVA, you have the controls. Captain Banes wants to see me...after that, I'm going to bed. I'm feeling  _tired_ myself," he could hear the shift of leather as she stood up, followed by footsteps as she left the cockpit, "On my way, sir."

He tapped the omni-tool to switch it off, before leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, a smile beaming across his face.

A little over a minute followed before a knock was heard on his door. Tapping his omni-tool to open it, he watched as Flores, still wearing her cap and pilot's uniform, stepped inside, hands clasped behind her, standing at attention. She snapped a salute, "You wanted to see me, sir!" She met his own gaze as he approached, and he knew that the games they played were just that...games.

Flores knew exactly what he wanted, and she wanted it too.

Closing the distance, he quickly ducked down, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up into the air. She chuckled at the surprise motion, wrapping her own arms around his neck as he spun around and dropped her on the edge of his desk, her legs hanging off it. Not letting go, she continued to laugh, "We're certainly eager tonight, Captain Banes. What's the occasion?"

He didn't answer, simply smirking back at her as he reached down and began to unbuckle his pants, "Maybe I'm not so tired anymore, and I need that rectified."

Reaching up and removing her cap, she dumped it unceremoniously on his deck, doing so just as he let his pants fall to his ankles. Grabbing both sides of his head, she forced her lips to his, kissing him briefly before pulling away, reaching down to pull her own shirt off, revealing her bra underneath, "I'm feeling a bit tired myself...want somebody to make me exhausted."

He reunited their lips, and they kissed for far longer this time, Banes using his fingers to unclip her bra while she removed her own pants, the two of them feeling the warmth between them begin to build up, despite the cold desk before them.

The two of them, since before ever being assigned to the  _Deliverance_ , had a 'friends with benefits' type relationship going for a while. Ever since the...incident...with his wife, and Flores killing her own boyfriend (for cheating on her), the two had agreed to casual sex and nothing more...on the outside, she was his subordinate, and Banes her superior. In his cabin...all rank disappeared as the two simply used each other to forget the world around them.

It wasn't love. Banes didn't love Flores, and she certainly didn't love him. They met, they had sex, that was it. And it would never go any further than that...especially considering the encounters both of them had with relationship trust issues in the past. Neither of them were looking for a potential other at that point.

Flores broke from the kiss to gasp as he unclipped her bra, her breasts pressing against his chest. He chuckled before kissing her again, breaking away after a few seconds as Flores reached back, pulling away her hair ties to allow her similarly brown hair to flow free down her shoulders, eyes latching onto his seductively. Kicking her pants away, the two were now wearing nothing but the...'bare essentials.'

"Shall we?" Flores prompted.

He nodded, before pulling back and motioning for her to move. She did so, leaping off the desk before turning herself around, bracing against the edge, looking away from him and towards the front, hands grasping the edge for support. Pulling his boxers away, he stepped up to her, stripped her knickers away, and then roughly entered her from behind, causing her to gasp as he moved into a steady rhythm, all rational thought vanished as it was replaced by pure, primal desire and lust.

He was rough, probably more than he should be, but Flores didn't seem to have a problem with it, so he just...let it happen. He didn't even think about it. For the next few hours, they used each other. To relieve stress. To forget the world around them, and most of all, to forget the significant others they had been betrayed by and ruined by.

For Banes, it was the only reprieve he could ever get.

**{Loading...}**

_That damn forest again._

_No darkness greeted him. There was no silent rustle of the leaves like last time. In fact, he could make out every detail: the blackened, dark trees. The foggy night, creeping up around him to isolate him in a hazy field of uneasiness and misery. The muddy ground, sloshing beneath his feet and dirtying the pants he wore...or at least he thought he was wearing pants. The feeling was disgusting nonetheless, the mud itself brown and cold, chilling his skin. He was alone...barely a sound to be heard other than his own, quiet breathing and that silent, omnipresent rustle..._

_All was eerily mute._

_He sat against a tree, feeling the bark rub against his bare neck. He had moved against it so often that his skin was sore and likely so raw as to be a sickly pink, blistery color. He didn't notice, the pain of it seeming almost numbed. His legs were splayed out before him, arms hanging uselessly at his side as he looked pointlessly into the dark. It was so non-descript, so depressing to look at, that he couldn't even describe it properly. His mind, so bored by the barren landscape, felt the urge to sleep...but no matter what, his eyes remained glued open, refusing to shut even when he willed them to do so._

_Luckily, he didn't resist. He had been here before. He understood the rules. He accepted them. He was desensitized to it._

_Because he understood its purpose. Why it existed. He would not break. Would not give in._

_Leave me alone, I would whisper. It doesn't work, I'd conclude. The silence didn't care._

_Luckily, the usual nightmarish and grotesque of his depressed subconscious didn't arise as they usually did. A twisted image of Mordin's twisted, bullet ridden corpse with a smiling Marcus standing over it didn't appear. There was no Kai Leng, crouching beside his frozen, motionless body, taunting him with the dangling, decapitated head of Thane, parading it back and forth like an owner did with its cat using a ball of yarn. There was no Legion, asking him if he had a soul or deserved death while ships rained from the sky, screaming echoing through the forest while the clouds rained quarian blood, a huskified Tali damning him for destroying her people..._

_None of those scenarios came to pass. They were Reaper creations. Stewed in the deepest pits of his doubt and manifested to seed despair. He had not shot Mordin. Thane had not died so brutally. Legion asked the question, but not at the price of wiping out the quarian species and sacrificing Tali. None of these had come to pass, and that, perhaps ironically, was what broke the Reaper hold on him._

_So, if that was the case, why was he back here?_

_There wasn't even a usual greeting. No thought provoking monstrosity reinforced by Harbinger's favourite two words. Just deathly silence. He began to wonder at the nature of this latest episode, musing as to its purpose or whether or not it was the product of Reaper influence and rather a more natural byproduct of his subconscious._

_For minutes, he sat there. Doing nothing, just...staring. He was tensed, as if expecting something to happen, but nothing came. Not for a while at least. No, this dream made him wait..._

_"Having fun?"_

_While startled by the sudden question, he was only ever able to turn his head very slowly, the movement so sluggish and painfully lethargic that he wondered if he'd ever make the final turn. He did, seeing the form of a man dressed in Alliance Marine Corps BDU, a cap placed firmly on his head, coffee brown skin coping a little too well with the darkness._

_He managed to croak out an answer...a mere squeak, as his voice suddenly felt hoarse and dry, like he was suffering from lack of hydration, "...Anderson?"_

_The man shook his head, crouching down next to him, staring at him accusingly, "I never saw you as someone who was lazy. What are you doing just sitting there? I'm out fighting for a resistance, and you just sit there."_

_He shook his head, trying to form an answer, "No...I...this is...a dream...I'll wake up..."_

_A bitter laugh, the admiral standing up as he delivered a rough punch to his stomach, winding the N7. He couldn't retaliate however, his arms and legs once again refusing to budge so much as an inch, forcing him to simply take the strike in stride, "Pitiful. Disgusting. This isn't the man I took under my wing. That I gave command of_ _**my** _ _ship too. Perhaps that quarian_ _**has** _ _made you weak...too much loving and not enough killing. Strike me, you fool." He punched him across the face this time, pain flaring up across the left side of his face._

_He still couldn't move._

_He was forced to endure his mentor's laugh, who now kicked him in the side, as if playing with him, "You can't even strike me. What use are you? I don't see you fighting Reapers, I see you playing nice with Aria T'Loak of all people. I risk my life to hold down the fort and you're fucking around with an asari crime queen? I thought you were fighting a war. You disgust me. You're a waste of that uniform. What would your mother think? Or your father? I'm surprised Hackett tolerates you."_

_He spat onto the ground, coughing up blood that never appeared or materialized, yet he could feel building up in his throat, obstructing his breathing, all the same, "This...isn't you, Anderson. You're a product of this...whatever this is. I've been through this shit before. Whatever you are, go fuck yourself."_

_Turning away, the voice that responded wasn't Anderson's, "That's no way to speak to the man who brought you back."_

_He looked up, seeing the Illusive Man now standing over him, cigarette held between two fingers. He motioned at him with said hand, shaking his head, "Makes me wonder why I bothered. Four billion credits and I've resurrected an alien loving, idealistic baffoon who parades around the galaxy making nice with aliens instead of doing what a soldier does. At least Cerberus stands for humanity."_

_It was his turn to laugh bitterly, although the sound came off as choked and heaving. His vision started to blur, "I don't know what kind of mind game you're playing Harbinger, but I sincerely ask you to go to hell. This shit doesn't work anymore. You'd think you'd have learnt that by now. You can use whatever person you want. You can summon Tali and have her call me all the worst names in the book. You can have Garrus beat the shit out of me. You can have me stab Wrex in the back and order nukes dropped on Tuchanka. You can have Leng grin at me, the Illusive Man taunt me, Anderson betray me...I don't give a flying fuck. The only reason you only bother with this is because I've got you running fucking scared. For all your intellect, or all your strength, mercilessness and absolute evil...you're scared for the first time in billions of years. Why? Because you know that this time,_ _**this time** _ _, we're going to_ _**kill you all** _ _..."_

_He gasped as a blade suddenly appeared piercing him through the gut and impaling him on the tree he sat against. Looking down at the blade, which was now being soaked in blood, and with more of it flowing from his mouth as he found himself unable to speak due to the torrent of it, he could only turn and see Leng grinning from cheek to cheek, the Illusive Man and Anderson crouching infront of of him, all smiling._

_All at once, they spoke, all with Leng's voice, all with his words, "I'll_ _**kill you all** _ _..."_

_Tearing the blade out, Leng spun, a whorl of blood marring its passage as it descended upon his neck..._

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0700 hours._

_Forward Loading Bay, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

His eyes shot open, but for a full minute, he barely moved an inch. All he did was look at the deck plating beside him, nostrils inhaling as he took in the putrid stench of the stale air and musty odour of the room. His head was lying against the yellowish pillow he had fallen asleep upon, with the rest of the bed being an uncomfortable, itchy and thin mattress. He didn't even have a blanket, forced to fall asleep in the leather undersuit of his armor, which was lying in a heap beside him, helmet propped up on top.

He sat up, wiping his face of the cold perspiration that had formed there. Taking in his surroundings, he remembered that he was in the forward loading bay of their new FOB. He was one of many in a line of beds that stretched up the side of the bay, with even more infront of him for the thousands of troops gathered. Most of them were empty or barely filled, with only a few mercenaries still sound asleep.

Turning, he saw that Tali's bed on his right was empty, having probably woken up a while before him to aid her fellow engineers and to organize shifts. Sighing, he activated his omni-tool, switching off the alarm that was set to activate in just a few minutes: given he was already awake, keeping it active was a waste of time, and with it disabled, he turned it off and quickly sat up, retrieving his armor. By the looks of it, the rest of the squad was up and about as well, leaving him as the last one to wake up.

Once his TA armor was strapped on and he had checked all the seals and straps, he picked up his helmet and magnetically attached it to his side. He decided to leave his weapons leaning against the wall, as he didn't think he would need them until they made their move on the reactor or whatever Cerberus forces Petrovsky would have awaiting them today. With that in mind, he stood up and walked towards the back of the bay, looking to grab some morning coffee from the makeshift galley set up at the back, allowing for the distribution of food and drink rations. Hopefully they'd at least brought some coffee, MRE-style or not.

It was from here that he noticed all the day-to-day activities of the army he had assembled. Geth troopers, shock troopers and rocket troopers patrolled the area, ocassionally interacting with the inhabitants, but otherwise keeping to themselves. Grunt's battalion occupied a small area towards the right side of the loading bay opposite his, where they kept to themselves mostly: the ocassional fight broke out, but never ended in any deaths: 'keeping each other warmed up', Grunt called it. Just yesterday, the 21st Maw company had returned from a successful torch-and-burn op, destroying all Cerberus aircraft within the Rubicon quadrant and effectively crippling any immediate air support they could have scrambled.

Blue Suns were running training drills, with Palisus, their turian commander, overseeing it, shouting out orders and instructions to each of them. Some Eclipse engineers listened to a group of quarians as they were shown better combat hacking methods, while a few others worked on their dormant mechs, ranging from the weaker LOKI, the dog-like FENRIS, the titan YMIR and the hovering HEL drones. Blood Pack vorcha infighting was rampant, and unlike the 1st Aralakh, some deaths occurred, although the krogan commanders quickly kept it under control and manageable. Regardless, the vorcha's animalistic instinct would inevitably lead to them killing each other, to the point where a few geth primes even had to step in to cool things down.

To his surprise, several squads of Talon soldiers had arrived while he was asleep, now joining the Blue Suns drills. He could see Nyreen speaking to a few of them, ultimately glad that she had chosen to fight with them despite her grudge with Aria and not try and fight the war without them: given how much intel the Talons had gathered on Petrovsky's army, it would certainly give them more of an advantage than it would have before they landed.

The rachni, aside from their workers, were nowhere to be seen. The workers simply helped where they could, swarms of the bugs scuttling across the deck, ceiling or walls as they helped fix defective systems, repair faulty wiring or performed reconnaissance outside to make sure Cerberus didn't get the jump on them.

So far, there hadn't been a peep from Cerberus. Ever since arriving at Aria's bunker, Petrovsky had either called off all direct attacks and switched to a purely defensive strategy, or he really didn't know where they were. Rachni scouting reports detected minimal local activity from Cerberus troops, and while there was a significant buildup of forces on the edge of the quadrant, they didn't seem to be advancing anywhere or conducting any sweeping maneveurs: they just sat there. Although Marcus gathered they were probably waiting for the OLF to make its move.

And soon they would, just not in the way they thought they would. Hopefully, that was the case. However, with a man like Petrovsky at the helm, Cerberus was proving to be very unpredictable.

Finally, he reached the galley, finding only a single human male, likely one of Aria's men judging by his rundown attire and sullen attitude, manning it, while a single Eclipse officer, a salarian, sat behind it, gulping down his drink and chewing on a packet of MREs: from the angle Marcus was approaching from, the side read ' _Mordip Farceno Cloaca'._ Whatever it was, the salarian visibly found it disgusting, but continued to munch it down. Coming to a stop infront of the human, who looked up at him through droopy, bloodshot eyes, "What can I get you?"

He nodded, scratching his regulation stubble, "Got any coffee?"

He nodded lazily, gulping, "Yeah. How many sugars?"

Marcus sighed happily, "Three."

The man raised one eyebrow angrily, looking displeased as his face suddenly distributed enough energy to look pissed off, "What the fuck do you think this is, a diner? You're asking too much."

"Billy, you little bitch," came a familiar voice, Marcus turning with a smile to see Jack arriving by his side, arms propped against the counter while staring the man down, "Give Shepard his three fucking sugars. Also, I want a coffee too. No milk, I want it straight up black." The man didn't move for a second, simply looking at her wide-eyed. Grinning, she spoke again, clearly fucking with him, "Did I fucking hiccup, Billy? Do I  _really_ need to repeat myself?"

The man nodded, ducking behind the counter (or crates, is what they really were) to find what she requested. Turning to Marcus, her grin never dissipated, holding up a single fist. Chuckling, he pumped it with his own fist, doing so lightly due to its armoured chest connecting to her unarmoured one, "Damn, boy scout. Can't even get coffee without needing my help. You really are a pussy."

The man stood up again, placing two ceramic cups onto the bench as he retrieved the necessary MRE packets for the coffee, doing so as Marcus responded, "Well Jack, you see, I was about to tell this guy how this was my favourite galley on Omega...but then you came in and ruined all the fun. Just because  _I_ don't have tattooes and say 'fuck' in every single sentence..."

Jack snorted, slamming a hand down on the table, "I'd like to think I've gotten better ever since Kahlee started telling me to use a swear jar. Said I was too impressionable on the kids, yet those little shits say 'fuck' every moment they think I can't hear them. Only difference between me and a normal teacher is that I encourage it. Their grown adults...they can handle themselves, and that includes swearing whenever they want, however many times they want."

He couldn't help his long, laughter-filled exhale as he received his cup of coffee, the last teaspoon of sugar shoved in at the last second as Marcus took the spoon offered and began to mix the sugar in with the light brown substance he was about to consume, "Well Jack, I could have used a teacher like you back in school. There was a time where we got told off for that kind of thing you know."

Jack received hers, and the two walked away from the galley, side by side, sipping their drinks as the biotic reciprocated his remark, "I would have told those teachers to harden the fuck up. No room for softies in this galaxy. Few of my kids, especially Hillary, find my 'vulgar language' unnecessarily rude and filthy. Ha! I just told her that the Reapers aren't going to bow down politely when you ask them to, Hillary. Time to put away the makeup and grab your reserve of testicles, 'cause you're going to need them!"

Marcus almost choked on that, managing to gulp down his hot, brewing sip before he spat it out, "I think you're far too obsessed with male genitals as it is, Jack."

The biotic just chortled, slapping him on the back, "Marcus, you dense fuck! What am I supposed to tell her instead? Whip out your ovaries, love!? Flash those tits and let's get killin'!? See, it makes no sense does it? Besides, I'm pretty sure krogan find that kind of shit impressive or something, so why not humor 'em? Besides, I personally find it amusing when I say it infront of a batarian guy...you know how they feel about women, especially their own."

He nodded, losing his smile slightly, "All too well."

The two of them navigated their way further towards the back, where her students looked to be practicing their biotics on both each other and a bunch of targets. Said 'targets' were actually slabs of wood conjured up from who knows where, stuck to the wall as a form of makeshift bullseye for her group to train with. They seemed to have improved incredibly since Marcus last saw them: turning from a ragtag band of scared kids and looking more like teenagers who had seen war, fought in one and come out still standing. They moved fluidly, formed more of an organized cohort, and genuinely did whatever they could to avert harm or death. The change was clear, even before Marcus scrutinized them.

_A pity they had to fight at all. Humanity's most gifted...using their gifts to fight a war. It should never have come to this._

He was just glad a biotic like Jack, who was already known for being the most powerful biotic in the galaxy, was training them. Sure, she was far from perfect as a person, but he liked to think her experiences on his crew changed her for the better, and that she was now using her abilities not for vengeance and violence, but to help better others. If anything, the 'hair' on her head was more of a symbol of that change, as well as her choice to wear more clothing, showing more of a respect for herself than he'd seen in the past, "Crazy to think the batarians are now our allies. You're attracting all sorts of weird shit, Marcus."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. It was hot enough that it stung his throat when he gulped it down, but enough to already make him feel much more energized than he had been, "We're putting a lot of grudges aside, Jack. The batarians are learning that just as much as we are. As much as Balak wants to pin my head on the wall of his room, and as much as I want to kill the motherfucker, we're both having to put aside our grievances to work together. Once this war is over though...I'm going to kill the bastard."

Jack nodded, waving him over to a pair of crates. She lifted herself up ontop of one, patting the one beside her in a motion for him to join her. He did so, and the two dangled their legs over the edge of the crates, watching as the Ascension kids continued to train, either oblivious to their teacher's presence or drilled to ignore it, "Yeah, well it should be obvious which grudge I'm not putting aside anytime soon...at least not until I can shove that golden hexagon up the Illusive Man's asshole personally."

He nodded, followed by another sip, "Good, because we're going to need that grudge if we're going to take down Cerberus. Omega's just one step towards their downfall. We need to take this station back, whatever the cost."

Jack barked loudly, but when Marcus turned, he realized it wasn't him. Turning to the victim of her ferocity, he saw Prangley taking in heaving breaths, Rodrigez standing beside him sheepishly. Shaking her head, Jack pointed to the target they were aiming at, "You need to get a grip, Prangley! The Reapers aren't going to stand back while you take a breather! If you have any hatred, let that shit flow! I want a biotic shredder! Remember Dekuuna?"

"Yes...ma'am," Prangley replied in a hushed tone, insinuating a bad experience that Marcus wasn't present for, "I...remember. Never again."

"Never. Fucking. Again," taking a heaving gulp of her coffee, she slammed the near empty cup down on the crate, body tensing up, "Now, on that note, AGAIN!"

Like a raging bull that was suddenly awakened, Prangley frowned angrily before suddenly snapping his arm up, biotic energy pulsing from the tip of his fingers and lunging out, slamming into the target. Not only was it thrown back into the wall, but the wood actually splintered in two, the dissected pieces of wood clattering to the ground. Standing tall and furious, Prangley looked like he had simply stripped away his fatigue, the only indicator of it being his larger than normal chest heaves.

Jack smiled, and, truth be told, Marcus swore he saw pride in those eyes. She leaned back, using her arms as support, "Now  _that_ is what I want to see! Every single one of you shits has a badass in you, you just gotta find it! Unlock it, channel it and kill shit with it! Be like Garrus Vakarian and rip that stick from your ass and beat the enemy to death with it!"

"I heard that!" shouted the turian in the background. Marcus silently chuckled.

"That's the point, dumbass!" Jack shouted back, "Now go back to your sniper rifles, pussy! Let us do the dirty work!"

The lack of response only caused Marcus' grin to widen, "I think you hurt his feelings, Jack."

Jack leapt off the crate, standing up tall and crossing her arms, leaning back against it with a wicked smile, "Dino can get over it. Besides, I never said having a stick up your ass is a bad thing. Nothing quite like a secret weapon you're enemy aren't expecting. I'd love to see the look on Petrovsky's face if Garrus ever whipped out that thing."

_I'm not sure I'd be composed either if I saw a turian pulling a sharpened stick out from his asshole. That's...not a pleasant sight._

"Well, there we have it," he raised his mug dramatically, "The key to defeating Cerberus: whip out the turian ass stick. Jack, you're a tactical genius."

She looked at him, smirking away, "Fuck yeah, I am! A psychotic biotic tactical genius, in full. But don't hand me the thanks...I'm not used to receiving praise of that magnitude. These little shits however..." she turned back to her kids, voice raised, "...could use a little after the ass kicking they've been giving! We are the Grissom Badasses, not the Academy Bronies! Get your hands up, Hillary! Nick, what the fuck are you doing!? You look like you're taking a shit, not using biotics! Thin out that stance and practice more of those biotic punches! Chen, I have no idea what battle tactic involves hugging Aihly, but if you don't stop it, I will kick your ass! Both of you, seperate and starting practicing barriers: I see you do that again, and I'm going to assume that's what you're doing! Dunston, Jake, Josh!  _That_ is  _not_ a  _shockwave_! Whatever that pussy shit is, it'll barely slap a varren, let alone tear apart a brute! Remember Dekuuna, all of you! When you think of that day, I want you to close your eyes, take a deep breath and think of nothing but that day. Think of what the Reapers did there. Let it make you angry, let it make you furious, and then take control of it! Stick up your asses, people! Rage equals stick! Beat shit to death with that rage!"

No reply was needed, the students simply returning to what they were doing. Frowning, Marcus turned to her, wondering what she referred to, "You keep mentioning Dekuuna. You guys were there?"

She nodded, not looking all too happy to talk about it, "Happened a couple of weeks ago. Reapers came back to Dekuuna in force, and the UGC decided to simply evacuate the planet. Me and my kids were part of the evacuation forces with the order of holding one of the firebases tasked with the evac. We were on the frontlines, Marcus...we saw fucked up shit that would make your skin crawl and your stomach churn. I've never seen anything like it. No matter how many husks you killed, there was hundreds to replace them. It was like a living tidal wave...you can throw pebbles at it, but that shit won't fucking stop. Ever."

He remained silent, nodding solemnly, "I read the reports. A pyrrhic victory."

Jack hung her head low, looking none too happy about it, "The firebase we were protecting was overrun. We were forced to retreat, and as a result, hundreds of civilians didn't make it. We managed to get off world, but the official estimates range from a few thousand to just over one hundred thousand evacuated. We didn't make a fucking dent. In the end, the evacuation was completed, and four hundred thousand, out of the six million we were tasked with saving, escaped. Four hundred fucking thousand."

_That's just under seven percent..._

"I..." any amusement he had was lost, shaking his head, "I didn't know you were there, Jack. I only saw the after action reports once I got back from Rannoch. UGC casualties were heavy, but the civilian death toll was...catastrophic."

She nodded, arms crossed, "You should have seen the elcor ambassador, Marcus. I was there. Somehow, I felt like the fault lay with me...like we weren't good enough. I went to see him on the Citadel, and...the elcor aren't very good at their emotions, but I could have sworn I heard him choke up. Poor bastard," she sighed, wiping her eyes as if tears had been building up there, "I fucking hate the Reapers, Marcus. I want to kill every last one of them. But right now, I'm going to pretend like Dekuuna was Cerberus' fault. Because you know what? It was, in a way. While Dekuuna and Earth are under siege, Cerberus is playing dictator here on Omega. Humanity's sword, my ass."

_The Illusive Man may think he's protecting humanity...that he's saving us...but he's wrong. He's indoctrinated and doesn't even realize it. How can he not see the irony? Cerberus is supposed to defend humanity and preserve it, yet Earth has fallen to the Reapers and he's doing everything he can to stop us from retaking it. Perhaps like Saren he's too far gone to realize the cognitive dissonance of his actions._

"Well, that's going to change, Jack," Marcus declared, causing the biotic to raise her eyebrows at him, "If we win this war, we're going to really shake up the Cerberus war machine. So far, they've been hounding us with impunity. Every defeat we've suffered upon them has done nothing but mildly irritate them. Snatching Omega from the Illusive Man's hands...he's going to feel that. We're going to make him feel it. We're going to snatch away his station, forty thousand troops and not only his best general, but the commander of his entire military. We've already destroyed an entire fleet...so we're already well on the way to victory."

A large grin slowly peeled across her lips, and she nodded with growing confident, "I do miss your speeches, Marcus: you may talk too much, but at least you know how to inspire some ass kicking. Always did want to hit Cerberus where it hurts...blowing up an abandoned base with a nuke just wasn't satisfying enough. Helping you slaughter the boarding crew of a corvette didn't cut it. Hell, slipping out of their reach along with my students was satisfying, but not awesome. Wiping out an invasion force on the Citadel...awesome, but not the  _creme de la creme_. This? Forty thousand lapdogs and the Illusive Man's top general to kill? Gets me all giddy," she turned back to the Academy kids, raising her voice once more, "Shout if you shitheads are giddy!"

All the students shouted in response, "Giddy to kick ass, ma'am!"

Jack just chuckled, "I'm sorry Rodrigez, was that a squeak I heard!?"

"Screw you, ma'am!"

Marcus and Jack laughed in response, both turning to each other, "You've been through a lot in just a few months, Jack. I think you like having them depend on you. To look up to you."

Jack just shrugged nonchalantly, remark already on hand, "Well, I learnt alot of it from you...always coming down to talk to me. I looked up to you. All of us did, even if you were a bit of a boy scout."

A shake of his head, smile still present on his face, " _King_  of the boy scouts, remember?"

Jack sighed, rubbing her temples with a slight giggle, "Yes,  _King_ of the boy scouts. Probably could have come up with a better nickname. That one's gone straight to your head."

He frowned, taking the pause in conversation to slurp up another gulp of coffee, folding his lips so he could savor the taste. Lowering the still steaming cup, he turned back to her, still frowning, "Wait...when did you start calling me that?"

Jack paused for a moment, tongue poking at the innermost section of her cheek as she pondered the question, "Shit, can't remember. Was sometime after you 'liberated' me from  _Purgatory_ and you started coming down for those 'enlightening' conversations we had. When you started showing what a swell guy you were."

He pouted, looking away, "I  _am_ a swell guy. I let you access all those Cerberus files, didn't I? I had no idea who you were, and my first impression was that you were just another thug, but I gave you access anyway. Isn't that just...swell?"

Jack was silent for a moment, before she finally nodded, uncrossing her arms to turn to him fully, bracing against the crate, "Yeah...you did. I didn't understand at the time why you would do that. You didn't know me, I didn't know you. The cheerleader I hated from the get go, but at least Jacob was at least smart enough to steer clear of me. Those files...I found a lot. Of course, EDI let me find much, much more after we blew the Collectors to hell and told the Illusive Man where to stick it. Even Liara, after she became the Shadow Broker, passed on some files to me. I...found out what happened to my family...the life I was stolen from."

His smile died, becoming sombre as he sipped at his coffee again, feeling the caffeine begin to kick in, "You don't have to tell me, Jack, but you never did discuss what you found. Did it hurt...knowing about a life you never lived?"

She nodded, inhaling deeply, "I didn't know what to feel. It was so surreal...it was like I was reading the life of somebody else, somewhere else. I felt disconnected from it...it didn't feel like that could be me. But it was. All of it was," taking another deep inhale, she stood up, one arm propping her up, "I was born on Eden Prime, funnily enough. My real name is Jacqueline Nought, and my parents were Yvette and Kris Nought. My birthday is May 2, and I was born in 2161, making me 25 this year. I apparently 'died' as the result of element zero exposure at the school I went to. Truth is that I was exposed to element zero, but Cerberus, as cover for abducting me, faked my death. My parents...I had no idea what happened to them until I searched them up recently. My mother killed herself, and my father fought in the Eden Prime Resistance...where he was killed by Cerberus troops before you liberated it."

He was silent for a few moments, stewing over the information he had been given. A few moments passed, followed by a few more, before Jack finally broke it, clearing her throat awkwardly, "But hey, who gives a shit. All of that is ancient history. I never got to live that life, and I have to live with that."

He shook his head, reaching out as he gripped her shoulder, "Jack, don't simply shrug that off. You were kidnapped and experimented on. You lived a life of crime. You were used and thrown away. You can't just act like finding out about your past is like looking at an extranet codex. That was your  _life_. If you need to talk about it..."

She shook her head, waving him off, "It's fine, Marcus. Don't need some boy scout to tell me it'll be alright:  _I know_ it'll be alright. I learnt all of that shit months ago...I've had time to process it. I've accepted that my parents died because of Cerberus, my life was ruined because of Cerberus, and now I'm going to kill every single Cerberus motherfucker I come across. I've got it all sorted out. And to end it on a soft note, I'm going to find the Illusive Man and mount his head on my living room wall...once I get a house. Everybody who's ever fucked me over is dead...Cerberus will be no exception, no matter how big and untouchable those assholes think they are."

More silence, followed by Marcus letting go of her shoulder. Eventually, he turned back to her, smiling stupidily, "So...I just realized. Jack...the name you made for yourself. That's just the start of your real name."

The biotic laughed, genuinely amused as she turned and crossed her arms again, "Yeah. When I came up the name, I was actually trying to remember mine. For so long they'd just called me 'Subject Zero', but once I was free...I wanted a real name. I tried to remember mine...Jack is what came up. Maybe I could only remember what the start of my name sounded like that, and I attached myself to that."

He creased his lips, nodding as he scratched the side of his head, crossing his arms in a posture imitating Jack's, both of them turning back to her students, "Guess you hadn't forgotten everything have you? So...do I call you Jacqueline or Jack?"

The biotic snorted, looking at him as if he was insane, "Could you imagine ever calling me that? That shit's a fucking mouthful. Just stick to Jack. Prefer to keep it that way. Like I said...that was my past life. This is my new life. Maybe, had Cerberus not abducted me, I might be the nice little girl Kahlee wants me to be...but I guess you'll just have to stick with this foul mouthed bitch forever, Marcus. I ain't going anywhere."

He laughed, turning to her as she smiled warmly, "Truth be told Jack, I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't think I could imagine you trying to play nice."

"Good. Dress me up in a skirt and makeup and see how long I stay sane. I'd kill every fucker in the room who put me in it to start with, and then I'd rip apart telling me to stop swearing. You want perfect? Stick to Tali."

He whistled, bowing over as he pretended to have been shot, "Shit Jack, you wound me. Don't let Tali hear that, though. She's not quite as innocent as she used to be back in the day. I think she takes after you."

That caused the biotic to stop for a moment, as if remembering some distant, painful memory. Marcus had a feeling he knew what it was, but before he could speak, the biotic was already talking, voice lowered, "Marcus, about what happened before you were...incarcerated...I just want you to remember I've gotten over that shit. No need to worry about me losing my shit again."

He turned to her, raising one eyebrow, "What incident?" He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he had tried his best to forget it had happened. Jack had owned up to her mistake, and the two had gotten over it. No ill feelings were held towards the other, and honestly, Marcus was surprised she had even bothered bringing it up again. It was a sealed wound...why reopen it?

She looked at him for a second, gauging his honesty. A moment later, and she nodded, turning away with a shake of the head, "Yeah, you're right. Fucking hell...don't even know why I brought it up. Best to leave it in the past...besides, I heard you two have a future killing machine bawling and screeching on Rannoch. I'd love to hear how that shit happened."

Marcus just chortled, cheeks flaring up, "Yeah...me and Tali are still trying to figure out how to deal with that. We didn't expect to become parents so early. With the war and everything...we miss him, but we felt it was the right choice to leave him behind. No place for a baby on a frontline warship."

The biotic motioned to her students, pointing at them even, to emphasize her following point, "These guys...they're gone. Some of them are still mentally babies, but they know how to pick up a weapon and shoot it. I've seen them tear apart husks with their biotics. They can cuss, they can scream, they can walk. I can justify bringing them into a fight. You're kid? He can't even walk. I could never hear you justify bringing him into the thick of this...so you did the right thing, if it means anything coming from me. I feel better on your behalf just knowing that little screamer is far away from the fighting. Rannoch's about as safe as you can get at the moment."

The N7 nodded, gulping down the last of his coffee as he placed the cup back on the crate behind him. Jack noticed this and quickly downed hers, and the two of them sighed in relief as newfound energy flowed through their bodies, giving them what they needed to storm through the day, "Thanks Jack. You're not the first I've heard say that, but I'm glad you're not the last. Besides...give me and Tali one more reason to keep fighting. To try and survive this damn war. Knowing we've got an entire life together waiting at the end of the road...it's invigorating. I just wish the Reapers would just flop dead so we can get there a bit quicker."

A laugh, followed by her sighing heavily, "So hurry up and fucking win this war! That, or you could politely ask the Reapers to defeat themselves! Fuckers could do with a bit of a polite shove in the right direction. A little more 'fuck off' and a lot less 'you guys suck, wah.' Show those Reapers that we aren't push overs this time 'round."

He patted her on the back, although the biotic look mildly unimpressed by the action. Pulling away, he gulped, squaring his shoulders. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he hadn't even addressed Jack's motivations for fighting, "So what motivates you, Jack? Is there a special someone you're fighting for?"

"What are you, Kelly Chambers? Getting all touchy feely and all about feelings, are we?" the biotic snarkily snapped. He continued to look at her with a 'give me the goods' type face, and in the end, she did break, "Ergh...fine. No, there isn't: I would never be involved in something so perfectly sappy. My motivation is the promise of a dead Cerberus and and an even deader Reaper armada. I haven't got a home waiting for me anywhere, Marcus. These kids are what I've got now. Maybe I'll get to see them graduate. It would be nice to see them become uber badasses, just like me."

Still, he continued to insist, "Well, there must be something you've been doing inbetween missions and when on shore leave," he mused on what to say next, before remembering a particular thing he had picked up Jack on doing back during the campaign against the Collectors, "What about poetry? Still trying to get a piece submitted to Galactic Poetry Monthly?"

A long, drawn out groan, before the biotic turned to him angrily, "I  _finally_ got a piece submitted, but it didn't make the cut. Not even in the Top 20s. Although I suspect it had something to do with the cunt who runs it...I think her name is Megan McAaron. She's a bitch. Turned down every single one of my submissions. Said they were too 'dark and depressing', and that they only promote 'happy thoughts and positivity.' My most recent wasn't garnering too much approval either."

"Can I see it?" Marcus asked, genuinely intrigued.  _Must be pretty bad if even they don't want to see it. Although considering Jack's vibrant, colourful personality, who wouldn't accept it? I'm sure its full of vulgar language and lines upon lines of poetic descriptions of husk killing that would be more fitting in a training manual for marines._

She frowned at him, "Seriously?"

He nodded, trying to look entirely seriously, "Absolutely."

With a final sigh, she brought up her omni-tool, typing a few keys before bringing it up, craning her arm so he could see it, "Laugh, and I'll rip your head off."

He held up his hands defensively before leaning in to read it, eyes scanning over the few lines of text that made up her poem. It didn't take him long to see why it was ranked so low.

_My soul_

_Burns_

_With a fire of darkness_

_Quenched only in the pain_

_Of loneliness_

_I hold my breath waiting_

_Until spots appear black as the past_

_And fill my lungs with lies of hope_

_I mark myself_

_Black and jagged_

_To cover the scars_

_That make me a monster_

_A warning_

_This is not a place of honor_

_No esteemed dead are buried here_

Reading over it twice just to make sure he had read it correctly, he pulled back, nodding his head dumbly as he continued to think over what he had just read. Jack pulled back her arm and deactivated her omni-tool, arms crossed and now waiting, perhaps impatiently, for his response.

"Well..." he began.

He didn't even get a chance to finish. "So it wasn't lovey dovey, beauty and rainbows, but it was a fucking poem. Took me three months to come up with something I actually liked. I tried to be happy and pretty...but it made me sick. Besides, the poem is about me. About who I am. There's nothing happy about that. Poetry is about inner thoughts, not being a fucking journalist: I'm not going to twist how I feel to suit what they want."

"...I was going to say it was pretty depressing, but that the poem itself is actually not that bad," he stated, crossing his own arms, causing the biotic to stop dead in her tracks, "I don't think its the quality that got it rated so low. It was because they don't understand your story, Jack. For all they know, you could be writing about suicide. If I didn't know you, that's the impression I'd get. Not exactly something you'd want on a site about people sharing their poetry skills, whatever the context."

"Yeah, well..." Jack stumbled, before slamming both hands into the back of the crate, "Fuck. Maybe you're right. Still doesn't excuse them for being pussies about it, though."

Before he could properly respond, he heard the heavy thuds of metal on metal approaching them. Turning, Marcus and Jack watched as the hulking form of a geth prime walked towards them, Marcus immediately recognizing him as Moses, the prime having had itself painted black to help him distinguish himself from the other geth around him. The geth closed the gap fairly quickly, coming to a complete stop before them.

Straightening up, he looked back up at the geth, his eyes meeting its optics, "What can I do for you, Moses?"

The prime's response was instant, "I have been tasked with passing on important information to you, as you are the commanding officer of this operation. Scouts have reported a marked increase of Cerberus activity in the Tuhi district. They appear to be making a move, Shepard-Commander."

His eyes widened, and he didn't need to turn to realize Jack had shot back up, barking at her students to drop what they were doing and prepare for action. Marcus silently thanked her, frowning up at the geth, "What can we expect? How big is the enemy force and are they aware of our location?"

Moses nodded, "Scouts report enemy force is large. Suspected to be at least two-"

Before the geth could be finished, a set of explosions sent tremors throughout the bunker, causing Marcus to stumble slightly before regaining his footing. Sounds of heavy guns in the distance could be heard, their loud, rupturous assault booming throughout the district as they fired upon the bunker...indicating what was likely to be heavy artillery. The second salvo of shells burst along the bunker's exterior, the sound much more deafening than before, and causing the UGC forces assembled to scatter in preparation for their defense.

The unmistakable sound of SX3 Thunderbolt fighters could be heard souring above them, the screech of their engines being heard seconds after they had already past. Behind them, the rumble, more laboured grumbles, of SX7A Hornet bombers steadily followed, their payload whistling through the air before slamming into the side of the base, their carpet bombing tearing a long stretch across it. Luckily, Aria's base was a  _bunker_ , and therefore was capable of surviving, to a limited capacity, any sort of bombardment short of a MAC or WMD. Gunfire sounded outside, followed by the wail of kodiak shuttles and A-61 gunships preceding it as Cerberus troops likely rained all over the ground in their deployment.

In just one quick swoop...they were under siege.

Grabbing the helmet hanging at his side, he slotted it over his head, bringing his HUD online. As he did this, klaxons sounded all over the base, with Bray shouting over the PA for all forces to prepare defenses and repel the Cerberus assault. Bringing up his omni-tool, Marcus quickly gained access to the PA, with Moses' help, and spoke, "All UGC forces, reinforce the main entrance and await further orders. Do not attempt a counterattack. If you find a breach, plug it but  _do not_ advance! If my squad can hear me, assemble by the entrance! Any forces outside, bunker down and await reinforcements! Do not let them through! 1st Aralakh, we need heavy weapon crews outside immediately to repel enemy armor and aircraft. On the double everyone, move!"

Switching off his omni-tool, he turned to Moses, motioning for the geth to follow. Running back towards his mattress, he needed to grab his weapons so he could participate in the defense.

For the first time since their invasion, they were on the defense now.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0718 hours._

_Forward Entrance, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

Her shields sparked, her HUD blaring angrily at her as it desperately informed her of the now non-existent kinetic barriers she possessed. Luckily, she wasn't far from cover, the quarian sliding down behind a rather large support frame for the bridge, more gunshots slamming harmlessly into the cover she now rested behind. While her shields took a moment to recharge, she holstered her geth plasma shotgun and pulled out her arc pistol, popping her head out ever so briefly to scan for a target.

Luckily for Tali, there was no end to them. Cerberus troops dashed across the bridge, a squad of nine assault troopers led by a centurion firing their assortment of rifles, shotguns and SMGs as they crossed. Two nemesi on the opposite side provided cover fire for their advance, their Raptor sniper rifles sending semi-automatic bursts of high velocity lead slicing through the air to slam into the trio of geth troopers still stuck in the open. They didn't last long, their optics bursting and pieces of armoured chasis chipping off as they collapsed to the ground, dead.

Locking onto the centurion, she held down the trigger, watching as the pistol in her grip slowly built up electrified energy, observed by the white ball of crackling fury building at the tip of the barrel. The vibration became intense enough that Tali knew it was ready, and without waiting any longer, she released the trigger. She watched as an instantaneous tendril of electricity leapt from the barrel and immediately grasped the centurion. His kinetic barriers were overloaded from the impact instantly, forcing him to stop and duck, raising his mattock to look for the person responsible...

...only for him to cry out as a particle rifle burst caught him in the side, the searing hot energy blackening his armor as it melted through it and pierced him through the side of his hip. He fell to his left side, stumbling to get up as the cough of a Valkyrie rifle impacted with his skull, putting him down for good.

Pulling back behind cover, she nodded to Javik and Keeling, both of them now crouched behind her, who had helped her finish off the centurion. Despite their sniper support, the rest of the squad were quickly cut down as the quarian engineers present fired their SMGs into them, aided by the geth snipers present, who kept the two nemesi pinned and helpless to assist.

Tali turned to the engineers, one of which was dead, a hole through their faceplate, blood pooling all around their motionless corpse, which had landed flat on their back: brains blown out by a suprise shot from a nemesis. Another had been shot in the gut and died a few seconds later, their body leaning against a piece of cover, hand cradling their belly, head lowered limply. while another had been clipped on the shoulder, but had patched themselves up. Out of the seven engineers present, only five were still alive, "Stay in cover! If you're going to help, then blind fire! We can't risk losing anymore!"

"Cerberus sniper eliminated," a geth sniper announced, crouching back behind cover as he placed a fresh thermal clip into his Javelin rifle, "Additional Cerberus troops are advancing. We need reinforcements to hold off additional assaults."

Tali shook her head in dismay, still unable to wrap her head around at the sudden change of events. One moment she had been helping an engineer, Fel'Vea, try and coordinate with Ahz on how to best utilize the bunker's power supply to activate the external defenses: without them, they would be helpless against an attack. And as if summoned or aware of their weakness, a massive air and ground assault from Cerberus had swung itself across the courtyard, an army of human bodies in white and gold SPARTAN armor charging them with the intent of taking that bridge.

Tali would not allow that to happen.

The assault was definitely well coordinated: no doubt Petrovsky's doing. Four Cerberus companies had opened the assault, swarming in from every angle of the courtyard as their artillery, hidden behind buildings and unseen, launched a full-scale bombardment of the bunker. Most of the shells completely missed their position and slammed into the structure towering over them, but Tali had no doubt that was the intention. Seven of their original geth guard contingent had immediately fallen as they charged, with the rest of them forced to cover within moments of the attack beginning.

Establishing defensive positions, Cerberus was content to send wave after wave of troops at them, likely as somekind of attrition or probing attack. The bridge was already littered with over a dozen dead, but considering the size of the force they were facing here, that seemed to barely dent their numbers. They just kept increasing: several more companies, then a few battalions, and eventually a full regiment of two thousand men was baring down on them.

And they weren't alone.

Launching from all sides, A-61 Mantis gunships descended upon them, deploying additional troops whilst also assaulting their positions from above. The already active AA on the bunker's exterior was doing a good enough job of keeping them out of range, but if those turrets fell or ran out of ammo...their position would be overwhelmed. A squadron of kodiak shuttles also swung by, landing on the rooftops to deploy snipers, combat engineers, dragoons, Rampart mechs and even Atlas exoskeletons. And above, fighters shot by too fast to pinpoint, the bombers they were escorting running sorties as they bombarded the bunker from above in addition to the artillery already attacking in the distance.

From all sides, the bunker was under assault from troops, mechs, gunships, fighters, bombers...it was a siege on all accounts...and one in which the OLF was caught with its pants down. Their only saving grace was that the courtyard had no avenues large enough for armoured vehicles to fit through, meaning the enemy regiment's tanks were unable to support them directly. Unfortunately, they simply had the artillery to supplement that.

Her comm crackled, Tali taking the time to answer and realizing it was Marcus. Hand raised to her helmet, she spoke, "Mark! We're getting hammered out here! There are Cerberus soldiers all over the place! Thousands of troops, possibly more! There seems to be no end to them!"

"I know!" he shouted back, sounding frantic, "I'm heading to the command center to coordinate with Aria on how best to defend the bunker. Are Keeling and Javik with you at least?"

"Yes!" she spared a moment's glance towards the two of them, Javik using his biotics to pull an assault trooper off the bridge while Keeling tossed a frag grenade into another advancing squad. The resulting blast sent four more troopers flying off the bridge to their deaths, while the rest were severely wounded or outright missing limbs: either way, the geth quickly put an end to them, adding to the pile of bodies growing on the structure, "They were about to go out on patrol when the attack hit!"

His response was instant, "Good, keep them with you. I'm splitting the squad up: I'm sending James, Moses, Kaidan and EDI your way: they'll help you hold the bridge. Golo's sending some primes and additional geth reinforcements to assist as well. The rest of the squad will stay with me in case I need them," after a moment, his voice lowered, sounding worried, "You stay safe, you hear? Don't take any unnecessary risks. Keep your head down."

She nodded, responding ever so softly, "You too. Just get us those reinforcements so we don't get overwhelmed out here and I'll be able to help you on that 'staying safe' front."

"You got it. We've also got that geth tank of ours, so I'll get that revved up and sent your way," after a few moments, he barked, this time more angrily, "Why the hell aren't those defense turrets online? We've got active AA, but none of those bridge turrets are active at all! We need them online if we're going to push them back!"

She nodded, turning to the engineers on the other side and signalling to them, motioning to the turrets before making a hand signal to them motioning for the engineers to activate them. They nodded, some of them holstering their weapons and whipping out omni-tools, rapidly tapping at them as they made their attempts at activation, "I've got my engineers working on it now. But I don't know how much better we'll be with them, Mark! They just keep coming!"

"Here they come! It's another assault!" Keeling shouted, crouching on one leg and raising her rifle, firing at targets Tali couldn't see, "Open fire! Don't let them cross! Protect the engineers! Javik, use your biotics to thin them out, I'll cap those you don't get!"

"Understood!" the prothean snapped in response, body wreathing in green liquid fire as he stood up and delivered his biotic ultimatum.

"Got to go, their launching another wave," Tali responded, "Hope to see you on this bridge soon, Mark."

"Feeling's mutual. Shepard out." The comm cut just quick enough for Tali to stand, raising her pistol and quickly charging up an electric charge. The bolt lunged out, this time impacting an unshielded assault trooper, causing him to scream and spasm as his armor systems entered a frenzy, the electricity coursing through him no doubt also giving him a nasty shock. She cried out however as she suddenly knocked back by a burst of biotic energy she didn't see coming. She caught herself, rolling backwards until she entered a crouch.

She caught the dragoon responsible in her sights, only for his head to jerk to the side, body stuttering slightly as a massive gaping hole was blown through the back of his skull, courtesy of a quick thinking geth sniper. Standing for a few more moments, the newly created corpse eventually slumped to the deck, Hornet slipping from his cold, dead fingers.

Unfortunately, Tali could see this nenewed assault would not be deterred. An entire platoon was being hurled at them, with an additional six nemesi moving into support positions. The geth sniper that had saved her rose from cover to fire again, only to be ganged up on by four nemesi as they fired high powered Raptor rounds into his optics, blowing them apart, white liquid spraying the engineer behind him as he fell back from the force of the blows.

The enemy platoon was almost ontop of them, Javik's biotics now barely halting their advance.

Then, the door behind them unlocked, and opened...

"Don't let them cross that bridge! Drive them back!" Kaidan barked as he was the first to emerge, flanked by the towering forms of three geth primes. He immediately opened fire with his M-9 Usurper assault rifle, body encased in the orange, luminescent glow of his tech armor, enemy fire pinging uselessly off of him as automatic fire managed to shred an assault trooper, before his colleague was violently thrown backwards by an impact of biotic energy, tumbling off the bridge after his head connected with the edge, snapping his neck from the brutality of the instantaneous impact.

The primes advanced in triangle, with Moses forming the tip, their pulse cannons thundering as they delivered devastating payloads of concentrated plasma. An entire rank of assault troopers were decimated in seconds, causing their advance to stutter from the sudden butchery. Drones hovered at their sides, incineration projectiles launching out in a triad to slam into the one dragoon, leaving him helpless as both shields and armor failed him simultaneously, the trooper shaking and collapsing to the floor as flames ravaged his body, burning him alive.

As Kaidan joined the engineers on the other side, James and EDI joined him, the former's Revenant LMG complimenting the latter's Executioner pistol perfectly.

The primes made short work of the enemy platoon that had been so close to victory, killing the stragglers as they attempted a fighting retreat, only to blown apart by plasma bolts. All of this was done before the additional geth reinforcements even arrived: two dozen shock troopers, arriving both sides of the doorway, moved into position with a dozen combat drones in support. And, the crowning jewel of their rescue: the large, hovering form of the  _Normandy_ 's new geth tank, its main gun lowered over the bridge and ready to annihilate those foolish enough to dare a crossing.

Unfortunately however, this did not mean Cerberus was going to relent.

Like the sound of a descending eagle zooming in on its prey, the screech of enemy aircraft could be heard approaching from the far west. Everyone looked up at once as they watched an echelon of SX3 Thunderbolt fighters head directly for them. Eyes widening, Tali knew what was coming.

She whorled to the rest of them, Tali knowing the only had mere moments to act, "Everybody, get down!"

Keeling noticed it too, "Enemy fast movers! Duck and cover!"

Ducking under their AA's flak, the fighters skillfully lowered upon their targets. Pulling up at the last minute, their frontal cannons opened fire, muzzle fire lighting up on both of their wings, hard hitting rounds raking across the ground and barely missing them. Large holes were torn into the deck plating from the sheer firepower of the rounds making impact, and it was only by sheer luck that they missed their salvo. Pulling up, they shot past the UGC defenders, the back blast from their departure causing her to shiver from the amount of wind blowing at her suit, her veil temporarily hovering before lowering once more. The supersonic boom was heard moments later, the quarian thanking her auditory emulators for quickly adjusting to the loud sound.

_Keelah, that was close._

And still, it wasn't over.

"Incoming gunships!" Kaidan shouted, "These don't seem to care about the AA either! Heavies, up front! Take them down!"

Just as the major pointed out, a pair of A-61 gunships left their perches on the rooftops, dodging anti-aircraft fire to rapidly approach them. Their M25 chin-mounted autocannons quickly whirled to life, locking onto targets and tearing into them. One of them, the one to the west, tried firing on Tali's position, but Javik raised a biotic barrier fast enough to block the attack, causing its usually crippling assault to bounce harmlessly away. The east gunship locked onto one of the primes, which had likewise also locked onto it.

The prime's shields are battered relentlessly, his combat drone completely destroyed from the initial rounds. Still, he gave as good as he took, pulse cannon locked onto the Mantis and hammering its own barriers in earnest. The gunship was quickly winning out however, its side to side movement allowing it more maneuverability than its two-legged target. Shields gone, the prime finally succumbed to the gunship's firepower, pieces of his armor blown away as the autocannon now shredded him. Within moments, he slammed to the ground, bullet holes riddling his chest and hissing from the heat of the rounds used.

The second prime was quick to react. Raising his pulse cannon, he finished the job the first prime started, destroying the gunship's shields. Turning around, the VTOL audibly primed its Xiphos 34 rocket pods, desperate to save itself. The other gunship was kept busy by Moses, who was quickly joined by James, who had whipped out an ML-77 missile launcher to join his fire with his geth comrade.

Two more pulse cannon bursts impacted the east gunship's outermost right wing, causing the engine attached to it to be blown off, the dismembered wing trailing smoke from the damaged systems. Listing heavily to its side due to the stabilizer engine on that wing now being gone, the pilot fought to regain control of his aircraft, giving his prime assailant ample time to keep up the assault.

In the end, it was a sniper that brought the VTOL down. Raising his rifle, he took aim at one of the rockets primed in the gunship's left rocket pod, the rounds piercing the rocket and causing it to detonate. The chain reaction destroyed the rest of the rockets within the gunship, tearing it apart. The resulting flashes were so bright that Tali's visor had to tint to shield her eyes from it, but all she could do was smile as the explosive chain sheared the Cerberus aircraft in half, pieces of jagged metal flying in all directions as the momentum of its previously operable engines sent it flying backwards, gliding past the bridge and plummetting down below, its flaming debris trailing thick smoke behind it.

The west gunship hadn't faired better. Flying away, Tali could see the right rear engine trailing smoke behind it, while its entire left side was blackened and had holes torn into it, likely from repeated missile fire. James and Moses tried to get a lock on it, but it was moving too fast for this to happen. Its M25 autocannon was jammed into a left facing position, rendering it useless, sparks flying from it due to the malfunction.

The second prime was unable to predict what would happen next.

Still dodging the AA guns line of sight, the gunship brought itself around, the pilot making one last bid to devastate their defenses. Two rockets primed, it fired them once in range, the projectiles darting towards the vulnerable second prime responsible for destroying its literal wingman.

The twin explosions sent Tali flying back a few inches, the quarian grabbing hold of the deck's safety barrier to stop herself flying any further. Looking up, she saw that the second prime had been completely destroyed, its flaming wreckage lying in a twisted, wrecked heap on the ground, smoke trailing from its destroyed corpse.

The gunship responsible was kissed by a red lance of energy, which immediately vaporized the cockpit upon impact (and, as a result, the pilot), tore a hole through the middle, and erupted out through the troop bay in the back, completely bisecting the damaged VTOL. A thunderous explosion followed as its fuel detonated, columns of flame erupting onto the air as the gunship was obliterated, wreckage careening out of view.

Sitting up behind her cover, Tali turned to see the geth tank was responsible, smoke trailing from the barrel of its main gun. Trying to assess the situation, she holstered her pistol and got out her shotgun, checking to make sure it was loaded. Seating it in her lap, she assessed the situation. In their most recent attack, Cerberus had lost several squads, an entire platoon and two of their gunships: not crippling, but it did prove the UGC defenses would not falter so easily. The enemy artillery and bombers were still very much active and making their presence known, hammering the bunker like there was no tomorrow. Enemy troops were establishing themselves in the courtyard, fortifying their positions and preparing themselves for a counter charge. More and more shuttles arrived, ferrying in fresh soldiers, supplies and mechs seemingly every minute. It was quickly becoming clear that Petrovsky had at least two regiments committed to this assault.

That was either just under or just over four thousand troops. A large number.

_If he's as smart as T'Loak says he is, then he's doing this for one reason: he hopes to end this is one strike. Keelah, he must be pretty confident to make such a move. I just hope Marcus can hatch a plan to prove him wrong...because we're already down two primes and we only just got reinforcements..._

Turning to the engineers, she activates their secured internal comms, not wanting to be heard by the Cerberus soldiers, "What's the status on those guns? Are they operational yet?" By the looks of them, they weren't: so far, they were proving to be more akin to lumbering, annoying hunks of metal that were just sitting there uselessly rather than something they could actually use to defend the bridge.

_We activate those turrets, that bridge will become a killing field: Cerberus won't be able to cross without taking them out, and our AA will make short work of any large-scale air assault. And if we can just get our own forces airborne, we'll be able to supply some air support of our own..._

"We need more time!" one of the quarians responded, "Something's blocking us, and we're working together to overcome it. Just ten more minutes and we should be good!"

Tali cursed their luck, gripping her shotgun with renewed purpose, "You've got six. Everybody, we need to hold this bridge until those turrets are online! Dig in and get ready for a long fight! Check thermal clips and find somewhere nice and cozy that's safe from enemy sniper fire...if you've got weapons with range, get into position to use them. If you're close quarters like me, get close to the safety barriers...I want you ready to kill those lucky enough to cross."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, shutting out the sounds of gunfire and bombardment to draw upon her strength.  _For Mark. For Junior. For Rannoch. Keelah Re'lai. We will hold the line here, as Kirrahe would say. Hold the line, hold the line, hold the line. Keelah Re'lai!_

Her eyes snapped open just as Kaidan's words left his lips, "Here they come! They're making another push!"

She darted up, shotgun raised and ready.

_Bring it, you Cerberus bosh'tets._

**"Would you say that assault was the largest of the Omega conflict? Alpha tries very hard to keep disclosure of Omega's more obscure history to a minimum. Especially to outsiders. Hence my curiosity: we know so little of the war that took place there."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"It was. Until later on, it was the largest operation I'd ever personally commanded. It was a fucking shit show."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"I held the line. I was there in the thick of it. So many troops being thrown at us..."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It got better, and it got worse. Because Leng, that piece of shit...he was there. And he brought friends."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**Didn't think I'd pump these chapters out at the rate I have been. Guess I've got extra motivation as of late to do them. The fourth and final part of "I Am His Instrument" is coming up next. Shit's getting spicy.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	69. I Am His Instrument, Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The UGC hold the fort while Shepard and Aria consolidate their troops to repulse the Cerberus assault.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO:**

**I AM HIS INSTRUMENT PART FOUR**

_August 6, 2186_

_0729 hours._

_Forward Entrance, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Major Kaidan Alenko, EDI, Moses._

They simply didn't stop coming.

At this point, Tali was convinced Petrovsky was fielding an army at least thousands in strength. That was the only explanation she could find to justify why so many troops were being thrown at them en masse, with so many mechs, armor and aircraft in support. Fighters and bombers screaming overhead, artillery shells pounding the bunker from afar, gunfire from both sides turning the bridge into a killing field, the mechanical thuds of D-09 Atlas exoskeletons advancing, the silent convergence of dozens of Rampart mechs and the thrums of Mantis gunships and Kodiak shuttles. The entire scene in the Tuhi district was chaos...complete mayhem as the two opposing sides went head-to-head, both determined to demonstrate their strength, raw power and tactical knowledge. It was a deadly game...and at this point, Cerberus looked to be winning in the numerical front.

_They...just keep...coming..._

The recent wave of enemy troops had been a line of eight Rampart mechs, their tech armor active and deflecting most of their projectiles as they fired back with their M-22 Eviscerator shotguns and M-25 Hornet SMGs. They barely staggered, the impact of concussion rounds and incendiary projectiles apparently the only thing to observably halt their movement, and even then only momentarily. Infront, a trio of guardians, shields scraping along the ground as the soldiers moved forward in their crouched position, the audibly cancerous sound of metal rubbing against metal piercing her eardrums and forcing her to switch to internal comms to hear and deliver orders, the sound becoming too distracting to withstand. Behind the ramparts was a combat engineer, and a group of assault troopers: the combat engineer wasn't firing back, content to duck behind the guardians and mechs and use his omni-tool to cause havoc amongst their defenses, while the assault troopers ocassionally came out to fire at them.

They were halfway across the bridge now, and so far they hadn't managed to kill a single one of them: their shield formation was simply too well fortified, and with a lack of snipers to aid them (the last one having been killed by a nemesis earlier), there was nobody to accurately make use of the slits in the guardian's shields.

"They get any closer, and they'll kill the engineers," Tali stated. The engineers in question were still working on getting the turrets online, as they had continued to run into obstacles in that endeavour: not only was the turret's technology hilariously outdated, it didn't help that several Cerberus combat engineers had interfered in their attempts, forcing the engineers to fight them off before they could renew their work. Thus far, they were close, but not close enough, "We need to break their line, and we need to do it now. We kill those guardians, and that should do it."

Keeling nodded, popping up for a moment to fire at a guardian, attempting to aim down the slit. She barely appeared for a second before the ramparts fired upon her, shields cracking and bursting, forcing her to duck again, cursing. She shook her head, frustrated at her inability to fill out her assigned task, "Can't pop up for more than two seconds before they start bombarding you. They've also got nemesi moving into support, so we're soon going to have snipers to worry about too."

"Keelah," Tali exclaimed, wracking her shotgun. She tried to think of a plan, but nothing was coming to mind. They could probably have Kaidan and Javik use their biotics, but again, they would get gunned down before they could. Moses was a hulking death machine, but without proper support, his firepower would be rendered useless by the guardians. Without the turrets to provide suppressing fire, they couldn't use that either. Grenades were the only option...but again, they'd get torn apart by gunfire before they could even prime a single one.

_Marcus would know what to do...think, Tali. Think. Biotics are out. Grenades are out. Sniping them is out. What else can we use to take down a guardian?_

Then it dawned on her.  _Of course! Stupid, why didn't I think of that before!?_

She quickly turned to Moses, tapping their comm channel, "Moses, is your drone recharged?"

The geth was quick to reply, "Yes, Tali."

She nodded, reaching behind her to pluck out her own, "Good. I need you to deploy yours at the same time I deploy mine. We need to get this right the first time...they need to spawn directly behind the guardian line. With luck, we can stun them, giving us enough time to quickly kill them. Without those guardians, their entire line will be vulnerable."

The geth prime nodded in affirmation, reaching behind to its back to retrieve its own drone, the small sphere in its hand looking comically tiny compared to its enormous appendage, "We are ready to deploy when you are, Tali."

Peeking out, she noticed the enemy was now almost on their side. The screeching of the metal-on-metal contact had gotten far closer, and Tali didn't fail to notice the pair of EMP grenades hurling through the air towards them. Just as they appeared however, Javik grabbed them, flinging them downwards and back into the enemy. Tali smiled as the ramparts seized up as the pair of grenades intended for the geth detonated among the eight mechs, dropping their weapons as they collapsed to the ground, tech armor evaporating and red optics dimming until they were completely dark, all of them hitting the ground with numerous clangs. The assault troopers were startled, while the combat engineer suddenly leapt back, startled as his omni-tool suddenly deactivated due to the blasts.

_Perfect._

"Now!" she shouted, standing up and taking advantage of the gap in enemy fire. She tossed the drone right behind the enemy guardians, who were now close enough for her to make an accurate throw. She dropped back behind her part of the safety barrier, watching as Moses stood and tossed his as well, the  _Stalker_ -class combat drone joining her Chiktika on the ground behind them, the Cerberus hoplites seemingly not noticing them as they continued their path.

The two drones spun to life, their micro-holographic projectors materializing the illusion of solid mass, an orange sphere appearing around Chiktika while a more purple one appeared around Moses' drone.

Smiling, she opened her omni-tool and linked it up to her drone, watching Moses do the same on the opposite side. Bringing up her drone's command script, she set up its assault parameters as disrupt-and-harass. Her job complete, she turned away from her omni-tool to watch as Chiktika spun to the nearest guardian, sending a high voltage jolt of electricity straight into the back of the nearest enemy target. Moses'  _Stalker_ did the same with its own target, instead sending a superheated incineration projectile as substitute, as it operated on a completely different attack script runtime.

Chitika's target stumbled backwards and cried out, falling flat on his shield as he landed on the deck, spasming and shaking violently as the electricity reacted brutally with his cybernetics, leaving him a useless, jibbering wreck. Moses' target faired far worse, body instantaneously flash burned by the impact, dropping his shield as he dropped to the ground, rolling back and forth as he tried to put out the flames.

It was all they needed.

"Now!" Kaidan barked, shooting up, assault rifle already lowered, "Take them down!"

None of the UGC defenders wasted any time in taking advantage of the enemy's blunder. Tali appeared in a second, shotgun raised and distributing twin bolts of joined plasma from the barrel, watching as they slowly, but at the same time rapidly, tore into the back of the electrocuted guardian, body going still instantly, blood squirting in the opposite direction from the impact. Moses stood up, pulse cannon immediately blowing away the flaming trooper, the top part of his torso simply disappearing in a white and red mist, blood and gore all that was left, as well as a pair of disembodied, twitching legs.

The third and last guardian didn't know what to do with himself, choosing to simply stop and return fire with his high-powered Talon pistol. EDI stumbled as the powerful slugs tore apart her shields, forcing her to crouch and recharge. The guardian didn't survive very long however, Javik and Keeling combining their fire to tear into his exposed flank, high velocity rounds and hot particle energy shredding flesh and melting armor. He collapsed, just like the rest of the Cerberus column.

Moses' Minotaur pulse cannon easily dealt with the disabled and helpless Rampart mechs, the balls of plasma decimating them one by one, sending shards of molten debris flying in all directions as they exploded, the remains of their shotguns and SMGs flying from the bombardment due to the force of the bursts. James' Revenant peppered the combat engineer's shields until they broke, eventually causing his head to snap back as the first burst of rounds bypassed the now inactive shields and tore into his face, neck and ribcage. His golden visor shattered as the bullets bore a path through his skull, embedding deep inside. Another burst tore chunks out of his throat, sending blood spurting everywhere, the display akin to that of a painter tossing a paint bucket's contents through the air. The rest shredded his chestplate, sending him onto his back, dead, blood flowing like a fountain, the sticky substance swarming the boots of his assault trooper guard contingent, who quickly began a hasty retreat, only for the geth shock troopers to finish them off.

And thus the latest wave of Cerberus troops was repulsed. Flames continued to lick away at the now still corpse of the third guardian, while steam continued to rise into the air from the gaping hole her shotgun had made in the back of the first guardian, the flesh and gore around the entry wound blackened, shrivelled and reeking. Bits and pieces of metal and circuitry that once been eight mechs littered the bridge, mingling in with the dozens upon dozens of bodies that had also made their home there. So far, the Cerberus assault had been costly and induced heavy casualties, but it hadn't been without its boons.

Able to take a breather, Tali slumped back, panting slightly as she wracked back the slot on her shotgun, readying a fresh plasma discharge. She desperately wanted to tear her visor off so she could wipe at the sweat collecting across her body, but she had no choice but to make do with her suit's scrubbers, hoping they'd get rid of the sweat soon. Keeling, having barely broken a sweat herself, ordered the shock troopers on their side to reform, assuming a fresh formation so that they constantly kept Cerberus guessing. Javik remained in a crouched position, running a hand over his particle rifle, checking for any damage.

On the other side, Kaidan was ordering their group of shock troopers and drones around, following Keeling's example. James was now prone, finding a comfortable position with a sight line on the bridge that wouldn't leave him completely vulnerable. EDI crouched beside him, running her omni-tool across the entire group, likely checking for injuries and ensuring nobody was seriously hurt. The quarian engineers continued their work undeterred, barely paying attention to the battle going on around them.

Cerberus' assaults had made their mark, without a doubt. While they were repulsed again and again, the UGC was slowly running out of ammo, and had suffered casualties of their own: two primes dead, almost a squad of geth troopers...and, more recently, an Atlas had gotten lucky and managed to disable the geth tank, scoring a missile hit on its side that forced it to retreat inside for repairs: without it, they would remain vulnerable to further Atlas attacks. What was worse was that they had to use up the last of their heavy weapon ammo dealing with said Atlas...meaning they were now helpless against aircraft or enemy armor without the tank.

Too busy paying attention to the ground and regaining her breath, she hadn't noticed a shadow arrive at her side until she looked up. Kaidan landed in a crouch beside her, his assault rifle holstered and tech armor disabled and recharging, the marine having removed his HYPERION-82 helmet and attached it to his hip, "That last wave got really close, Tali. I don't know how much longer we can hold out. Another few waves...with the tank out, they could launch an all out assault and they'd probably overrun us. We need a game changer, and we need it soon."

She nodded lazily, managing to compose herself enough to grip her shotgun more tightly, sitting up, "I know, Kaidan. Mark said he's organizing with Aria on how best to defend the bunker...could be he's planning a counterattack to push Cerberus back. At the moment, Cerberus more than likely thinks we're the invasion force...if we can keep them thinking that for a while longer, we can surprise them. We just have to trust Mark can get it done."

He nodded, laughing bitterly, "I get that, Tali. I trust Marcus as much as you do, but that doesn't change facts. Any further attacks, and we're done. We'll have no choice but to fall back unless we get reinforcements."

She sighed, sniffling slightly. It was then she realized she had a sharp pain in her side, and she groaned as she looked down, rising her veil to find a large blotch of red blood staining her side. From here, she could clearly see bare skin, and surmized due to the pain she was receiving that she had likely been shot at some point during the last wave...or perhaps it was the one before it. Either way, she'd been shot.

_I was probably caught up on so much adrenaline that I didn't notice it. Need to patch this up before I get a fever._

Turning from Kaidan, she grabbed a pair of plyers from one of her suit pockets and, biting down on her lip, quickly plunged it in, latching it around the bullet. She screamed inwardly, drawing blood as her teeth pierced her bottom lip, the almost blinding pain causing a black blur to appear at the edge of her vision. With the bullet secured she yanked it out, looking dizzily at the blood soaked projectile before tossing it away, wiping away any blood on her veil and placing the plyers back in her pocket. Quickly grabbing medi-gel, she slapped a large blob across the wound, rubbing it in and feeling a cold, cool feeling begin to fall over her. The pain slowly evaporated, and Tali felt the blackness retreat as she sighed in relief. With the wound addressed and no longer bleeding, she tossed away the used packet, activating her omni-tool and, whilst holding the two parts of ruptured suit together, beginning to stitch it back together.

After a minute, the suit breach was dealt with, the quarian deactivating her omni-tool and looking back up at Kaidan, who was still present and looking at her with concern. She waved him off dismissively, laughing with some genuine amusement, "Keelah Kaidan, how much of a rookie do you think I am? I've been doing this for three years...I'm used to suit breaches now. I'll be fine." Her combat drone soon returned to her, collapsing into her palm, placing it back into her pocket and tapping it gently to make sure Chiktika was safe and sound.  _Good girl. You did good._

The marine craned his head in acknowledgement of her point, but refused to budge regardless, "Yeah, but just because I'm used to being shot doesn't mean I'm okay with it either. Was it a critical wound?"

Despite the fact he obviously couldn't see her raised eyebrows, she did so anyway, rolling the hip on that side exaggeratively, "Do you think I deal in euphemisms, Kaidan? If I couldn't fight, I would tell you. Right now, the most I'll get is a runny nose: some clogged sinuses. Turns out all that...uh...you know what I mean."

He hastily nodded, letting Tali know that he was very much in agreement on her not going any further, "Yeah, I get it. Just be ready. No doubt the enemy will be making another push any second now, and we need this flank secure."

Keeling piped up in Tali's defense, "She's got me, Javik and a few geth and drones to back us up. You can be sure the left flank is locked tight. A few wounds aren't going to keep us down," she turned to Tali, cocking her head as a motion of encouragement, "Although it  _would_ be nice for those turrets to be actually doing  _something_. You know, like lessening the load for us."

She glared back at the N7, understanding her frustration but not in the mood for it, "My engineers are doing the best they can. Cerberus bosh'tets are hardly making it any easier for us. Constant waves of them and their engineers are making it nearly impossible to concentrate."

"They have no choice!" Javik grunted, now gripping his rifle tightly and keeping a close eye on the bridge for any would-be surprises, "They must focus all their attention on those turrets! Motivate them, if you must! There can be no victory for the weak!"

"Yes, thank you Javik," Kaidan dryly replied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, "But you're not helping. All we can do is hold down the fort and hope we get some turrets to chew up Cerberus troops soon. Until then, a tight formation, some medi-gel and a bunch of stims are all we can rely upon."

"Major Alenko," EDI announced, gaining the soldier's attention, "Moses has spotted two more enemy squads approaching from the other side. They have an Atlas mech moving into support them, as well as another line of guardians. Their assault troopers are armed with grenade launchers, and one centurion has an unidentified weapon. I have a run check on what I know about Cerberus weaponry, and it appears to be M-622 Cryogenic Projector Weapon System."

James scoffed over the comm, audibly unsurprised by the weapon's obvious purpose, "Let me guess...its a big ice gun?"

"A crude nickname, but it does have a reasonable application in this case," EDI replied, "Cerberus Skunkworks was working on a prototype as part of Project Avalanche. When I defected, it was still in field testing stages. It appears Doctor Miles Ruberick managed to perfect the design. When in testing stages, it was nicknamed the 'Avalanche.'"

Kaidan rushed back over to the right flank, careful to keep his head down and out of view of any snipers as he made his return, "So what can we expect from this 'Avalanche' weapon? What are its capabilities? Obviously, it fires ice."

"Yes, its based on existing cryo round technology," EDI elaborated, "However, it does not 'fire ice'. The weapon, for instance, is not filled with water. Instead, a cooling laser is fired from the barrel at a target. This laser then collapses the ammunition into Bose-Einstein condensate, a mass of super cooled subatomic particles. These snap freeze when impacting a target, which produces the effect of 'cryogenically freezing' the object in question. The weapon is lethal when used against organics, as the sudden drop in temperature around an organic will kill them instantly: against machines, they will be frozen. Given how military omni-tools and weapons have cryo rounds installed, the Avalanche has an added 'area of effect', where it can freeze an entire squad at once using a mass effect generated containment bubble that, once popped, exponentially magnifies the blast radius."

Silence for a few moments, followed by a whistle from James, "So...basically kill the  _puta_ before he gets a chance to use it? Fine by me."

"I recommend attempting to destroy the weapon, not the user," EDI suggested, a slight smile forming on her face. It looked like the AI had finally managed to make a smile that didn't look creepy or sadistic, "Doing so, in theory, should cause a collapse of the cryogenic containment chamber and collapse the bubble. Basically, the gun will explode, flash freezing the wielder and everyone around them."

Tali smiled, liking the sound of it.  _Use their weapon against them without even using it. Just what they deserve._

"You know what to do then," Kaidan ordered, turning to Keeling, "Sharpshooters, keep an eye out for that centurion. You seem, pour what fire you can into that Avalanche heavy weapon of his. We're going to kill Mr. Freeze."

"I can't believe I just heard that joke."

"Shut your mouth, James. I thought it was appropriate."

"I have relayed the joke to Jeff," EDI stated. A few seconds later, she shrugged, "Jeff has replied. He says 'leave the jokes to the Joker', Major Alenko."

The marine waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head, "You guys are no fun."

"Hostiles approaching!" Moses blared.

"Here come your traitors!" Javik spat, standing up and opening fire, the thrum of his particle-based weapon the first gunshot to be heard of the new wave, "Time to kill them all!"

As the geth and prothean announced, the first squad of Cerberus troops made their attack. Five guardians this time, approaching in the same phalanx as their predecessors had, trudged forward, shields scraping against the bridge's deck. Eight assault troopers, two combat engineers and a dragoon advanced behind the guardians, moving in two columns behind them of five each: four troopers and one combat engineer to each column. Their centurion came up behind them, wielding his Avalanche. The weapon was quite large: almost the size of the M-920 Cain. The barrel was the largest point: a short, but wide, cylinder with numerous, blue coolant pipes stretching from the main chamber in the back to connect with it. It glowed brightly, illuminating its destructive potential.

The second enemy squad wasn't far behind: no guardians, but ten assault troopers, five phantoms and two more centurions. Not far behind, the rthymic stomping of an Atlas, the large, powerful exosuit slowly advancing onto the bridge, massive main gun lowered, but its pilot very much focused on his enemies ahead of him. The stomping became small tremors, the mech's enormous weight distributed unevenly on the bridge as each step created its own, mini-earthquake.

"Guardians, forward. Centurion, fire the avalanche!" the Atlas pilot shouted from the cockpit, revealed to be a centurion controlling it instead of the usual assault trooper. His voice was amplified by the mech's in-built PA, allowing it to echo across and be heard by both sides, ally and enemy.

"Quick, take it down!" Kaidan snapped, and as one, they all rose.

Javik's particle rifle and Moses' minotaur pulse cannon was staggering the guardians' shields, but not making an actual dent. Noting this, they switched their attentions to the centurion, who was now aiming into the air, making a rough estimate as to how the Avalanche's burst would arc towards the UGC forces without having to break cover. A few seconds more, and he would be able to fire.

The UGC made sure that didn't happen.

The hail of gunfire focused on one target made sure that no matter how dense the shield formation was, it wasn't going to save their centurion heavy. The centurion's shields broke, but in the end, it was a pulse rifle burst from one of the shock troopers that pierced the barrel of the weapon, causing the centurion to stumble back, finger leaving the trigger in surprise.

He didn't get time to shout.

The effect was instant. They all had to blink as there was a massive flash, blinding them all temporarily. It was momentary, and it only lasted a second, but it felt like a flashbang had gone off. A second after the fact, the form of the centurion was frozen stiff, one leg raised in the air, head back and arms rearing backwards in a still snapshot of his last moments. Around him, encasing him in a sort of non-biotic stasis, was a thin layer of ice, still cracking and creaking from its recent creation. What was left of the weapon was scattered all over the place, the explosion having encased its parts in ice as well, but still having torn it apart.

The centurion wasn't the only victim: EDI hadn't been lying when she said it had an area of effect. The guardians right infront of him were stuck in their phalanx, having been blasted from behind and cryogenically frozen, the shields encased around their fists and immovable. All eight of the assault troopers were also frozen, but they had, still stuck in their last pre-freeze state, fallen to the ground, knocked over from the blast's shockwave. The only survivors were the two engineers, who hadn't escaped completely unscatched: they groaned as they desperately tried to stand up, their feet stuck to the ground and encased in ice. All along the bridge, around the entire area the first squad had been standing in, was nothing but ice...it was almost as if a section of Noveria had been torn out and dumped on the bridge. Tali even felt chills all the way from where she was...the cold was that prominent.

Not waiting to see if the effects were permanent, Moses opened fire with his pulse cannon. Their frozen forms came apart like glass being smashed, shards of ice exploding into the air only to melt into boiled water as they were instantly melted by the superheated plasma rounds. Tali winced as hot water dripped onto her visor, the heat felt even through her visor. Thanks to the few well placed shots, all the ice immediately evaporated, either flying into the air as water or released as a steamy, hot cloud into the air, looking much like the aftermath of a hot shower. Those frozen were vaporized, and those that weren't had their frozen guts and dead flesh blasted all over the bridge. The only ones to survive were the two combat engineers, and they were quickly gunned down by Kaidan, Keeling and Javik.

So far, Tali was impressed.  _EDI made a good call. Managed to wipe out an entire enemy squad without more than a few bullets being fired. Overall, a few good kills. But we've still got to deal with that second squad._

"Ignore them, press forward! Charge!" the Atlas commander barked, the sound of marching turning into frantic, running footsteps. As the steam cleared, white and gold armor appeared, running across the bridge desperately, "Kill them all! For Omega!"

"Shit! Fire, fire!" Kaidan frantically ordered, taken by surprise due to the sudden Cerberus change in tactics, "Don't let them cross! Moses, focus on that Atlas! Don't let it close that distance! Tali, we need those damn turrets online now!"

Tali nodded, turning to her engineers, "We're out of time! Turrets, online,  _ **now**_!"

"Almost there..." they replied, "We're so close...just a few more minutes..."

She growled angrily, grabbing one of them by the shoulders and roughly turning him around to face her, "We do not  _have_ a few more minutes! Our position is about to be overrun!"

"There's nothing we can do!" he shouted in reply, holding up his hands defensively.

_Keelah, damn it! There must be something...without those turrets we-_

She stopped for a moment, frowning. Letting go of the engineer, he turned back and poked her head out, watching the enemy getting dangerously close. A few troopers fell in their charge, joining the rest of the corpses already there, but otherwise, kept moving. The Atlas was halfway across, its main gun turning out to be a heavy machine gun as it rose that arm and tore apart three shock troopers and a couple of drones, their destroyed wrecks crashing into the ground as the high velocity rounds shredded them.

But Tali didn't see them...her eyes blurred out everything in her peripheral vision, her mind now solely focused on one thing...

...the bridge.

_The bridge...of course! Why didn't I think of that before!_

_It's_ _**retractable!** _

She wasted no time relaying her intentions to Kaidan: there was no time for that. Cerberus would be on them in seconds, and it was clear those turrets wouldn't be active anytime soon. Taking a huge gamble, she whipped out her omni-tool, found the necessary control module and immediately hacked into it...to her immense relief, she concluded that Cerberus  _hadn't_  seen the tactical use in this function and had taken no action to set up firewalls around it.

Their mistake.

With one tap, she watched with glee as her command was accepted. On their side, the retracting belt began to spin, and the numerous gears inside the bridge's mechanisms began to spin, grinding loudly and groaning as metal began to move and shift. The numerous blocked 'sections' began to peel away like an apple's skin, looking like pieces on a board being sliced away. The entire bridge began retracting over to their side, splitting its connection with the courtyard and, as a result, removing Cerberus' only way across on foot. Tali watched with restrained glee as the third Cerberus squad moving to reinforce the second's charge was suddenly cut off at the last second, the leading centurion managing to stop himself just short of running off into the chasm below.

The second squad didn't notice until it was too late. The Atlas commander had almost reached their side when the bridge slid out from under him. The mech groaned as it suddenly found itself in weightless free fall, its left leg skidding off the edge and sending the massive mech too a long, far away death. In moments, the massive war machine was gone, and in moments, its troopers followed suit. What few assault troopers made it to the other side were quickly gunned down, barely able to mount a proper resistance to their new fate. The rest of their comrades fell off the edge to their doom, screaming as they were helpless to stop their descent.

The bridge finished retracting, the gears and mechanisms going silent as the blocks came to rest beneath their feet. All the corpses that had gathered on the bridge had also fallen when the bridge retracted, effectively clearing it of any obstacles and obstructions. The third enemy squad fired at them from where they were, but quickly gave up when they realized the UGC defenders could simply hide behind cover. They stood there, looking across at their enemy that was, for now at least, untouchable.

Tali applauded herself for her quick thinking, but then chastized herself for not thinking it sooner.  _Could have stopped a lot of those casualties if I'd retracted that bridge sooner. Still, at least we've stopped Cerberus from getting across and given ourselves a proper breather. That should stop their assault right in its tracks._

Sitting back down again, she shouted over to Kaidan, holding a thumbs up, "You can thank me later, Kaidan!"

Keeling walked over to the quarian, squeezing her shoulder and smiling at her, "That was quick thinking, Tali. Excellent work."

"I hope those traitors enjoyed their fall," their prothean comrade smirked, nodding in appreciation at Tali. Given how the prothean looked when he did, she knew that it wasn't a patronizing nod, but one a warrior gave to a fellow warrior out of respect and acknowledgement of a job well done, "You did well, quarian. You've denied the separatists their only way across and sent them to their deaths. All within a few seconds. Very impressive."

She waved them off, nodding to both, "That's all well and good, but we still need a plan to permanently push them back. I doubt they're going to pack up and retreat simply because I retracted a bridge. They'll have a backup plan."

"You heard her," Kaidan reinforced, slamming a fresh thermal clip into his empty assault rifle, "Cerberus isn't done with us yet. Reload your weapons, nurse any wounds you have and let's get the ball rolling. I'll contact Marcus, see what's taking him so long. As for the engineers, I want the geth to help get those turrets operational. I'm sick of hearing nothing but silence from them. Things are useless until they're chewing up enemy troops. As for the bridge," she turned to Tali, shrugging, "Just...keep it retracted, I guess. That, or you can make sure those AA guns are up to scratch. Without that bridge, Cerberus will have to switch to airlift to get their men over here...we need to make that as hard for them as possible."

She snapped a salute, before turning back to her arm and reactivating her omni-tool, her favoured weapon of choice other than her shotgun, "Understood. I'll keep them-" she frowned, watching has her tool began to flash, alerting her to an intrusion. Accessing the tab the alert was coming from, she saw that her command script she had initiated for the bridge was being steadily overwritten...and she recognized the hacker's code instantly. It was unmistakeable.

Her fingers got to work, bringing up her counter-intrusion program to combat the hack. Luckily, the work was coming from one source only, and regardless of any cybernetic improvements, the engineer was no mess for a quarian geth expert. Quickly, the progress bar on the hack was brought to a halt, Tali quickly fighting back against it, fingers typing wildly and ferociously as she fought to keep her hold. She shouted, quick to alert the defenders, "Somebody's countering my hack on the bridge! I'm holding them back, but be ready! They could try and hack the turrets!"

Within seconds, her superior hacking won out. She pushed the hacker back, successfully expelling him from the system. With a sigh of relief, she quickly brought up a seperate pair of settings and began to rapidly establish a firewall to keep any further attacks from getting in. It would take a while, but with her abilities, it would ensure that their control on the bridge remained absolute and permanent.

Just as she began typing the first line of code however, the tab flashed an alert again: another hacking attempt. Sighing, she swiped back over, rolling her eyes.  _Arrogant, Cerberus bosh'tet._

She quickly addressed the new hacker, surprised to find it was the same combat engineer from before. Cracking her neck, she got to work again, fingers a blur as they worked. She was completely assured that she could beat back the hack, but it seemed she had underestimated Cerberus this time.

A second hacker joined the cyberattack, followed by a third, and fourth. Soon, six independent, Cerberus combat engineers were performing seperate attacks on the same node, and Tali widened her eyes as she was overwhelmed. Her counterhacking managed to hold them back, but only barely: she was slowly losing control. Eventually, two more joined the hack, and she was up against nine hackers all at once.

Knowing she would lose, she was about to call Moses and EDI for assistance when the hackers finally smashed what was left of her control, and seized fully operational command over the bridge. What had been their biggest victory had been turned over in an instant. Her eyes widened, turning to Kaidan and shouting just as the gears sounded once more, the blocks moving out as the bridge began to return to its original position, "Kaidan, I've lost control! They have the bridge!"

Kaidan nodded, using hand signals to have everyone return from their relaxed positions to full battle mode. Waiting on the other side, the third enemy squad readied their weapons for a charge, now reinforced by a fourth and fifth squad behind them. A dragoon commander prepped their forward movement, raising a fist into the air as he rallied his men behind him. Lighting up with biotics, he looked ready to storm them. Tali wracked her shotgun, ready to blow apart whatever attempted to make the crossing.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it! So stupid! I should have had Moses and EDI reinforce the hack from the beginning! Now we're back to square one!_

The bridge slid back into position on the other side, the gears going silent once more as it returned to its former cradle. Now able to advance across the gap again, the dragoon charged, his harrier assault rifle opening fire as he initiated Cerberus' renewed attack. Dozens of assault troopers followed suit, firing their mattocks and SMGs, while centurions, combat engineers, guardians, nemesi and phantoms all fell in behind him, and this time, with three whole squads, they looked set to overrun them.

Looking indomitable and unstoppable, it came as a surprise to Tali when she saw the dragoon slide into a crouch, stopping his own charge in its tracks and raising his hands, biotics summoned as he holstered his rifle and quickly formed a biotic barrier around himself. He seemed to be taken aback by something on the UGC's side of the bridge, but before Tali could see what it was, it fired, a blaring blast of red energy barrelling through the air and tearing through Cerberus' forward line, vaporizing ten assault troopers and a couple of phantoms instantly. The shot continued until it had incinerated several more troopers, a centurion and two combat engineers, before finally dematerializing.

Tali turned and watched as the geth tank rolled back out into the area, its turret's barrel still searing red hot from its opening salvo. James howled cheerfully at the sight, pumping his fist into the air as he continued to scream out like a maniac, "That's right, you  _gilipollas_! Time to die, assholes!"

The enemy charge, despite having suffered heavy casualties from the shelling, continued forward, simply focusing their fire on the new threat, pouring bullets uselessly into the tank's more powerful kinetic shielding. They merely flashed in response, absorbing the assault as the turret lowered, finding a new target. The dragoon stood up and joined the attack as well, sending a flare spiralling through the air at high speed. It slammed into the front of the tank, causing it to roll back slightly, but barely denting its shields. The blast enough was enough to knock EDI and Kaidan onto their chest due to the concussive shockwave, but overall, only a single geth drone was lost due to the biotic explosion.

Snarling, Tali shot up and fired her shotgun, watching it stumble the dragoon as it connected with his shields. They did not burst due to the range she had fired it at, but she certainly got his attention. Turning, he grabbed his rifle and returned fire. She merely ducked however, wracking her shotgun again before standing back up, aiming aim and tapping the trigger. He stumbled back again, shields flashing more intensely this time.

_Almost have him..._

Keeling took notice and fired off a shot, but the dragoon was quick: lowering the arm holding the rifle, he raised his left one, bent it infront of his chest, and protected a circle of biotic energy around it, creating a sort of 'biotic hoplon' infront of him, blocking the attack. Javik fired his particle rifle into it, but it made no dent, and the dragoon simply shrugged it off. Satisfied, he took them all by surprise when he dropped that arm and suddenly lunged forward, biotically charging forward. His body becoming a missile, he closed the distance in a second as his body appeared infront of her, slamming into her roughly. She felt the air tossed from her lungs from the violent impact, feeling herself tossed back several meters.

Turning to Keeling, the dragoon raised his rifle and opened fire, using his biotics to bash aside Javik, causing the prothean to drop his own rifle. Keeling steadily closed the distance while Tali got back to her feet, shaking her head and grabbing her shotgun off the ground. Teeth gnashed together, she regarded the dragoon with intense anger.

_Cerberus._ _**Bosh'tet!** _

Gripping her shotgun more tightly, she raised it and took aim, firing one firm blast directly into his abdomen. He noticed her too late, body glowing in preparation to form a biotic defense, only for the blast to get under his arm decimate what was left of his shields, the kinetic barriers splitting with a loud, crackling pop. Grunting, he fell to one knee, listening intently as Tali wracked the slot again, readying another salvo. She strafed right as he sent out a biotic warp, watching it shoot uselessly past her.

Keeling steadily finished closing the distance, and moved to whip him with the butt of her gun. The dragoon reacted quickly, free hand dropping his rifle to grab the descending weapon firmly, his grip strong enough to cause the rifle to creak painfully. Keeling reacted quickly, using her free hand to strike him across the face. He didn't let go even as his head snapped around and away from her. This just gave Keeling the opening she needed to duck down, grab her knife, unsheath it and slam it down towards his neck.

But the dragoon was smart. He leapt up, the knife instead penetrating deep into his side, but not becoming the killer blow Keeling intended. The N7 dropped her rifle and pulled the knife out, spinning around and slashing at his stomach. He leapt back, dodging the blow, holding his side as blood leaked out and stained his armor. Tali was ontop of him, shotgun booming as it sent another plasma projectile forward at him. He swatted it aside with his biotics, ducking down to grab his rifle, only for the weapon to be sliced in half by particle energy as he did so, causing him to drop what was left of its bissected skeleton onto the ground, rendered useless.

Before he could do anything else, green energy enveloped him, encasing him to the spot, unable to move. Tali nodded to Javik, the prothean simply continuing to hold his hand out, channelling all his biotic strength into maintaining the stasis. Unable to defend himself, he was defenseless as both Keeling and Tali nodded to each other, the quarian activating her omni-blade and Keeling wielding her combat blade, and descended upon him. Both of them struck the dragoon in both sides of the gut, their blades penetrating deep. The dragoon could do nothing but silently scream as hot, boiling energy combined with the cold, serated edge of a more conventional blade pierced deep into his belly, wounding him gravely.

The two women retracted their weapons of choice, Tali deactivating her blade while Keeling sheathed her own. Content with their kill, Javik released the stasis on the Cerberus biotic shock trooper, and he collapsed to the floor, one hand bracing his fall as the other desperately tried to cup both wounds, while the other in his side festered: blood leaked out from all pores, and the soldier looked up weakly, shaking his head as he tried to stand, trying to retreat.

Tali never gave him the chance. Cocking her shotgun once more, she rose it, took aim and blew his head clean off, watching as the blood, brains and viscera erupted like a overflowing volcano, the chunks of skull and red meat creating a fine mist as they carved a coppery, disgusting mesh through the air to splatter the ground in sticky, human essence. The bottom half of his jaw was all that was left, hanging to the side uselessly in a mockery of the human's former appearance. After a few moments, the twitching corpse fell to the ground, entirely motionless.

With a sigh, Tali looked up, watching as Kaidan and their troop managed to mop up what was left of the attacking enemy squads. Most of them had made it across, and even more managed to engage the UGC in hand-to-hand, with several geth falling, and more than a few of Tali's engineers. She watched with some relief as Kaidan finished dealing with two assault troopers, ripping his omni-blade out of the shin of one, before relentlessly impaling another in the gut multiple times. Shooting up, he then spun and decapitated the multiply stabbed trooper, before stabbing the other through the top of the head, kicking both of their corpses to the ground. Panting, he spared them a brief glance before stepping down and retrieving his rifle, which was now soaked in gore. Wiping off what blood he could, he took the runny weapon and fired into the backs of two retreating centurions, watching as what was left of the final squad tried to retreat.

They were rapidly dealt with, but it was far from over. Tali watched, arms slumping, as what looked to be two enemy platoons charged forward, a phalanx of twelve Ramparts and a pair of Atlas mechs approached, Cerberus likely making a last ditch attempt to breach the UGC defenses...

This time, Tali knew they would win. The army of white and gold, seemingly limitless in numbers and a pale horde that was simply unstoppable, amassed on the bridge she now had no control over, moving forth to conquer their enemies and smash their defenses.

Then, a sight Tali couldn't believe she was seeing.

What seemed to be one by one, left to right, the defense turrets that had been silent for so long suddenly began to rev up, internal mechanisms roaring to life as their internal IFF identifiers calculated their targets and spun up their motors. All four of them, their barrels pointing upwards and locking onto the approaching Cerberus army, their barrels beginning to whir to life ever so quickly, as if preparing to dish out a powerful payload.

And it was.

All of them, seemingly at once, opened up. Their intense muzzle flashes were almost blinding, the screeching deafening as their barrels retorted numerous times per second, spewing out round after round after round. They were active, had found targets, and were now tearing them apart.

The first line of the enemy platoon were too late to stop and retreat. The raking crossfire of the activated defense turrets cut them to pieces, shredding shields, armor and flesh alike, heads popping like melons and limbs being sawed off in a frenzy. A dozen enemy soldiers fell almost instantly, while the next dozen faired little better, the sheer firepower being delivered upon them being too much for their kinetic barriers to withstand. Within moments the bridge had been converted into a bloodbath, the color of crimson creeping across the floor like a plague.

Seeing the first platoon decimated, the second platoon came to a complete halt, and began a retreat, hoping to use their two Atlases as cover. The turrets showed no mercy, immediately locking onto their new victims and letting havoc rain supreme. More corpses were added to the ever growing chaos, entire lines of soldiers falling as their backs were blasted apart, some falling face first into the ground while others were spun around due to the sheer force of the impact. One phantom's entire upper torso was sliced away the focused fire of two turrets.

The Atlas did nothing to save them, and nor did the ramparts. The cockpit of one was shattered as three turrets focused on it, the pilot standing no chance as his body was rendered an unrecognizable, horrible parody of a human body. Without a pilot, the Atlas collapsed uselessly forward, crushing the corpses that had gathered beneath it with a series of audible cracks and snaps. The second Atlas backed up, trying to bring its own incredible firepower to destroy one of the turrets, but it merely pinged off their own built-in shielding. Eventually, all four turrets gained up on the last Atlas, and the pilot soon met a similar fate, with the mech this time falling backwards, crushing four Ramparts underneath it.

The last eight Ramparts fell like dominoes, their tech armor doing them no favors. Incredible firepower reduced them to the equivalent of mini junkyards in seconds, and they were soon gone from the battle.

In the span of thirty seconds, the seemingly colossal Cerberus assault had been reduced to ruin. Some corpses twitched, others, still horrifyingly alive, tried to crawl away, only to be annihilated by a hail of fire as the turrets fired upon anything that was Cerberus and had a heartbeat. In the end, the stench of newly made bodies swept across the bridge. In layman's terms, it was simple carnage.

Satisfied with the turrets now being operational, Tali collapsed against the safety barrier, falling onto her butt with a thud, sighing in relief, shotgun clattering uselessly to her side. She didn't need to worry anymore...even if the bridge wasn't retracted, the activated turrets and their ridiculous firepower meant that no Cerberus force was going to get across now without enormous casualties. And from what she saw, no doubt Cerberus was thinking the exact same thing.

Their assault was over...for now.

"Well, here comes more reinforcements," Keeling noted. Tali looked up to see that, indeed, reinforcements were in the process of being deployed. Escorted by another gunship, three kodiak shuttles descended from above, their descent slow and sluggish, representing Cerberus' attitude towards the siege...they had all the time in the world, and they were in no hurry to deploy their main muscle.

 _I hope they see our turrets ripping their men apart...take that, Petrovsky._  If Tali could spit on the ground, she would. As it was, she was too tired to do it even if she could, her body wracking in huge breaths. The sight of the turrets shifting back and forth, scanning for targets, was more than a relief: it was the most pleasant sight she'd seen since the Tuhi attack began. One of the turrets fired again, Tali not needing to turn around to realize it had fired at and killed a retreating nemesis: the feminine shriek gave it away.

She watched as the reinforcements lowered, getting ever so closer to the courtyard.

Then, out of nowhere, the rear most shuttle simply...exploded.

Like a hawk descending for the kill, a geth dropship appeared, its cloak evaporating to reveal its form. The debris of the shuttle it destroyed rained down into the courtyard below, showering the entrenched enemy forces below in shards of metal and hot wreckage. Taken aback by the brazen act, the last two shuttles scattered, the gunship, spinning around to address the new threat.

The dropship struck first, bombarding it with plasma shells from its superior position above the Mantis. The gunship wasted time attempting to get on the same altitude, desperately firing off its rocket pods in an attempt to bring down its enemy. The dropship gracefully avoided the non-guided missiles, continuing to fire directly into the gunship. Eventually, its shields shattered, and Tali could only smile dopily as the gunship soon erupted into flames, careening into a nearby building and exploding.

The last two shuttles desperately tried to make landing, but the geth dropship was hot on their tails. It bombarded the second shuttle, and she subsequently watched one of its shell catch the kodiak on its tail, shearing its engines off and causing it to spin out of control. It crashed into the courtyard, out of view, likely killing several Cerberus soldiers. A flash came from that direction, flames and a pillar of smoke filing up into the sky signalling the shuttle's final destruction.

The third shuttle managed to land safely on the rooftop of the BSA store, hatch hurriedly opening to quickly dispatch its troops. A dozen assault troopers, a couple of phantoms and a pair of centurions rushed out, desperate to escape the hellfire that seemed to be befalling them.

Their attempts were for naught. A final shell slammed into the top of the shuttle, causing it to explode in a magnificient display of light and fire. Both phantoms and eight of the assault troopers were caught in the blast, thrown away violently. The centurion and what troopers survived were thrown onto their chests, while their comrades' remains were tossed uselessly through the air. Flames licked out from the shuttle's wreckage, as well from the shards that had been distributed by the blast, like ash from a volcano eruption.

It was like a scene from a movie. She could only watch in sheer bliss as the dropship lazily hovered over the area, specifically near the rooftops wjere the third shuttle had met its untimely end, before descending low enough to deploy its payload. Cerberus fire flashed along its barriers, but barely made a dent. Only needing a second to complete its task, the dropship dropped a solid mass onto the rooftop, directly next to the shuttle's wreckage, before strafing slightly to its left, and dropping another. Lifting away, it bombards them for a moment to cover its retreat, before completely ascending out of range of the enemy fire.

The surviving centurion and his four trooper survivors approached the nearest mass, weapons and ready to fire. Suddenly, four legs expanded from the mass, pushing it upwards. A long neck extended, and the optics at the end lit up. Realizing their mistake too late, the geth armature opened fire with its heavy machine gun, and the centurion was the first to die. It then fired its siege pulse, the resulting blast reducing the four, gathered troopers into red putty.

The second armature quickly emerged as well, and together the two armatures moved to the side of the rooftops, raining fire down onto the enemy troops from above, combining machine gun fire and siege pulse together to decimate both mechs and soldier alike.

The geth dropship soon found itself running into new problems: what few gunships in the area quickly responded to the aerial threat to their supremacy, causing the dropship to dodge and weave between them more often than it did retaliate. With around three ganging up on it, the dropship seemed to stand little chance...at least until two more geth dropships emerged from cloak behind them, their joint shelling decimating one gunship instantly, wreckage sent spiralling into the chasm below. The last two gunships performed evasive maneveurs, and were swiftly chased off by the three dropships joined together, temporarily ridding them of the enemy gunships. Whatever kodiaks attempted to approach no longer could: their only passage was now filled by three dropships, and the only other way around would bring them within range of their AA: in the end, the new wave of kodiaks turned around and left, unable to approach or risk being shot down.

And, it seemed, Cerberus was insistent on one final push across the bridge. A line of eight guardians pushed forward, their phalanx just barely keeping the turrets at bay while another Atlas and a squad of fresh Rampart mechs attempted to move forward, testing the integrity of the UGC defenses. Tali did one quick check to make sure she couldn't retract the bridge, only to, unsurprisingly, find it still under firm Cerberus control. However, regarding the situation, she needn't have bothered.

The geth tank's hot plasma, combined with the turrets and the aid of a fourth and final arriving geth dropship, turned the final charge into a final slaughter. The geth tank decimated the Atlas, while the guardians were blasted away by the dropship's rear flanking fire, leaving the Ramparts open to be shredded by the turrets. By the end, it was made clear to Cerberus that any further attempts to breach the UGC defenses would be fruitless, suicidal and most of all, pointless.

Tali, her head hanging limply against the safety barrier, simply smiled as she closed her eyes, the sound of bombardment and explosions behind her becoming numbed sounds in her foreground. She felt Keeling pat her shoulder, before walking away, likely assuring her that it was, at least for now, over. Even as she heard Marcus' voice in her ear, Tali did nothing to respond, feeling that the sound of his voice was all she needed.

"Reinforcements are inbound," Marcus declared, "We're ending this before it begins. Await further instructions."

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0741 hours._

_Courtyard, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng._

If Randall ever got his hands on the genius who thought it was a good idea to send troops wave by wave across the bridge just so they could be slaughtered, there would be a long set of words exchanged. The lack of efficiency involved in wasted manpower and resources was extraordinary. It was a wonder the UGC had to hold back at all. They could have charged with just a squad and gotten the same result.

_Idiotic. Foolish. Irresponsible. Inattentive. Arrogant._

Randall, given command of Colonel Amish's 6th regiment, was given the honor of leading the initial assault. On paper, the colonel's plan of attack was impeccable: taking into account all the intel Leng had gathered, Amish had the 6th regiment sweep through the courtyard on foot, entrenching themselves and setting up defensive positions so as to push back any UGC attempt to uproot them. Ten M45 Goblins were deployed further back, and with fighters and bombers launched from the nearby Hudson quadrant (courtesy of Colonel Mitchell Wchest), began bombardment of the bunker, keeping them suppressed whilst the rest of the 6th moved into position.

APCs, tanks and IFVs were out of the question, so that left Atlases as the most powerful form of ground support. The 6th had about fifteen or so to their name, with another fifteen being brought up by the 8th. What Rampart mechs had been relegated to fullfilling law enforcement duties in the Tuhi district (which was now evacuated) were now committed to the assault in full, ready to render assistance where necessary. Randall wanted to use them to reinforce the more stronger attacks...but again, stupidity from within led to dozens of them being sacrificed needlessly.

With the 6th in position, the 8th could deploy via shuttle. Their fighters, bombers and gunships guaranteed air supremacy even with the bunker's AA, giving them a clear line of sight for kodiak squadrons to swoop in and deploy 8th regiment reinforcements, while even more moved in from the ground and provided more men and firepower to the flanks, further securing them. With everything set, Amish could besiege the bunker with relative ease, eventually tightening the noose and forcing the UGC to either come out guns blazing, where they'd be funnelled across the bridge and slaughtered, or surrender. Either way, they would win the battle, and Amish would be applauded with having defeated the UGC invasion before it even began.

Unfortunately, as was an increasingly common trait with Cerberus, these things  _never_ went to plan. Why? Because some genius always managed to mess it up. Whether it was Leng with his jealously and arrogance, or a Cerberus commander with something to prove. Either way, it was neither Randall's or Amish's decision to turn what should have been a chokepoint for Aria's forces to be funnelled through into one for  _his_ forces to be funnelled through.

Randall, weapon holstered on his back and Leng hot on his heels, his own sword sheathed and flanked by a pair of phantoms, stormed towards the frontline of the courtyard, where the centurion in command of the 32nd Battalion (and, subsequently, responsible for their recent blunders) was supposed to be located. He halted his movement for a moment, allowing a column of six assault troopers to run past, one of them carrying a missile launcher, all of them heading towards the frontline in an attempt to deal with the latest threat. Once they had run past, the comm chatter on their radios audible for all to hear, Randall proceeded to return to his dictated path, the assassin behind him ever so silent as he likely felt the waves of annoyance rolling off the manhunter.

All over the courtyard, it was chaos. While their entrenched positions were holding firm, the recent setbacks and UGC counterattack had shaken up the bee hive. The lost of five of their Atlases and dozens of Rampart mechs had forced them to reassign numerous assets, including sending troops to plug holes that weren't originally present but now were because of the soldiers diverted for the 32nd's problematic maneuvers. Luckily, a large amount of the 8th regiment were now present, allowing for 6th regiment positions to be filled accordingly and where necessary. So, luckily for them, they were struck with a bit of a fluke.

The door to BSA shot open as several squads of Cerberus troops rushed through, likely attempting to reinforce the right flank: given recent events, it was a good idea. The door locked behind them, one of their engineers crouching infront of it and using his omni-tool to ensure the security on the door was unhackable, or at the very least, nigh impenetrable. He proceeded to take the sentry turret on his back and deploy it for good measure, taking all the necessary precautions to make absolutely sure that any UGC attack from that direction (however unlikely) wouldn't get through without heavy loss of life.

As he emerged into the main courtyard, he found out pretty quickly that the battle had become more chaotic than he initially thought. Several corpses lay strewn about that were missing arms, legs, heads and even entire torsos. Some were riddled with bullet holes, burn marks or were simply blown apart by explosives. Regardless, the stench of death hung heavily over the newly formed battlefield, with friendly forces ignoring the remains of their fallen brothers-in-arms, even outright running through their bloody remains as they tried to find cover or established new defensive positions. Machine gun nests were shifted, cloaks were activated, snipers shifted vantage points...it was an efficient recalculation of the tactical terrain, but it was just as chaotic. There was even the remains of a crashed kodiak inside what used to be Marsh Rentals, the shuttle having crashed through the walls and exploded inside the vacant storefront, fire and thick smoke pluming up into the air violently, its wreckage having caused the entire building to light on fire. From the carnage left behind (including at least a dozen or so dead assault troopers and guardians, not to mention a destroyed mortar position), the shuttle didn't come quietly.

Whipping out his rifle, he reached out and grabbed the arm of a passing assault trooper, turning him to face him, "What the hell is going out here!?"

The trooper saluted briefly, before shaking his head, "We don't know, sir! They came out of fucking nowhere! Took out some of our shuttles, and dropped geth on the rooftops. Before we knew what was happening, our gunships were chased off and our men are getting slaughtered from multiple angles! We're trying to deal with it now!"

Randall gritted his teeth, cursing the centurion in his mind.  _Bloody fool. He's got a lot to answer for here. Can we not get anything right?_

He nodded to the trooper and let him go. The trooper gave one final salute before rushing off, joining a group of other troopers lying prone behind a group of containers, trying to stay out of the line of sight of the geth attackers.

He turned to Leng, and nodded. The assassin silently removed his blade from his back in acknowledgement, motioning for his phantoms to join the battle. They saluted him and rushed off into battle, whipping out their own swords as they entered cloak, disappearing as they joined the ever infested battlefield.

Randall rushed out, keeping his back arched and head down so as to make himself a difficult target. Leng simply cloaked, disappearing completely. Randall paid him little mind: at this point, he didn't care what the assassin did as long as it didn't jeopardize the entire siege. Meanwhile, the manhunter just focused on not getting shot, grunting slightly as plasma rounds slammed into his back, his kinetic barriers just barely holding them back. He eventually got to the nearest crate and rolled into cover, dropping prone next to a trio of troopers. The one in the middle had a modified Revenant attached to a tripod, lowered on a crate and pouring fire into the nearest geth. The two troopers on each side of him were barely doing anything, one of them simply shouting commands, instructions and orders through his comms.

"Copy that, Mike-28," the assault trooper stated, "Yeah...yeah, we copy. Yes we know we've got geth on our flank...Mike-28, we are doing everything we...yes...yes. Yes, we fucking get it. But in case you haven't noticed, we're up to your ass in shit right now...you want backup? Well get Yankee-07 on it...what the fuck is that supposed to mean? We're pinned, you stupid fuck! I told you, Yankee-07 has a D-09 unit that they haven't deployed yet...yeah, well perhaps Lieutenant Colonel Adams shouldn't have sent so many across that bridge...yes...understood, Mike-28. Yes, loud and clear - now, kindly, go fuck yourself. We're busy..."

While the trooper continued to argue with the callsign on the other end, Randall took a moment to peek out from behind the crate, looking up at the rooftop to see what they were dealing with. Peaking out from the edge of the rooftop was the optics of a geth armature, the machine gun on the side of it tearing into the crates he was hiding behind. A second armature was next to it on the left, hammering a different enemy position, while ocassionally firing a siege pulse to devastate a large group of troops stupid enough to move in the open. The armature quickly spotted Randall and fired, the manhunter quickly moving back behind cover, watching as hot plasma slammed into the spot his head had been, the deck hissing as it was left scorched.

"...tell Beaver-90 to get over here and to bring some heavy fucking guns," the trooper from before continued to shout, "...no? Look, tell Lima-75 that I don't care if he's getting siege pulses shoved up his anus, I want some fucking heavies down here  _now_. We're getting raped by this damn armatures...yes, and they've got plasma guns too! And where are those damn D-09s? Last I checked, we still have ten of 'em! GET THEM OVER HERE NOW! Yes, I'm aware we have dropships bombarding us six-ways-to-Sunday! Maybe if Lieutenant Colonel Adams stopped sending troops to die on a fucking bridge we'd have some D-09s left to take care of those dropships! I don't want excuses, I want results! Make it happen or they'll make you dead...fine! But when the right flank collapses because you wanted to huddle together for warmth and comfort, I'll tell Major Ezno that you're to blame, you fucking piece of shit!" Finally switching off his comm, he turned to Randall, apparently aware he had been there the entire time, and gave an ever so brief salute, "Sergeant Farques, sir."

"Well...Sergeant Farques," he began, licking his lips, "I see we're having communication issues."

Farques shook his head, wincing as a siege pulse slammed into the ground nearby, causing an ever so brief tremor, "If I'm honest sir, it's more than an issue. Lima-75 and Mike-28 are refusing to budge from the left flank...I keep telling them the fight is coming to the right, but they won't listen. We've got ten D-09s just sitting in the open, doing nothing. If those dropships haven't destroyed them yet, they soon will."

Randall frowned, "Dropships? I thought we had the UGC's air forces suppressed?"

The trooper chuckled bitterly, "Yeah, you can ask Lieutenant Colonel Adams about that. All I know is that we had two platoons and a pair of D-09s crossing the bridge when the UGC suddenly activated the turrets and butchered them. Then, a geth dropship appeared and blasted the latest of the 8th's reinforcements out of the sky, dropped those two armatures we're dealing with now, and then a few more dropships appeared and practically chased off everything but our fighters and bombers. One of those dropships is currently bombing us from above, and Amish suddenly dispersed the entire 8th regiment to the right flank...something about this bombardment being a precursor to an imminent counterattack. And without the 8th...well, the 6th's hanging out here with our pants down, sir. We have the numbers, but right now, it doesn't mean shit."

Randall took a moment to contemplate this new information, finding himself completely unsurprised by the stupidity of the operation.  _Amish is just doing what he can to salvage the battle before its lost...the UGC might have cut us off guard, but we still have the numerical superiority to reinforce our position and fight back. I can't say redistributing the 8th from a support to a reinforcement role is going to benefit the 6th, but if he has faith we can hold the line...then damn it, we'll_ _ **hold the line**_ _. I swore to Petrovsky we could win this. I will not back down now...the 6th is my command: I'm damn well going to show it._

_First, I'm going to have a word with this Adams. Might even relieve him of command: idiot can only further hamper this operation if he keeps that title._

"I'm going to contact Adams and get you those heavies," Randall declared, gripping the trooper's shoulderpad strongly, "There's no other way to fix this damn charade he's created."

"That would be much appreciated, sir," the trooper winced again, this time watching as the trooper maining the gun emplacement fell back, his head stripped to bloody ribbons as he was made the sole victim of a plasma volley, the steaming remains sibilating on the deck. The trooper sighed, motioning for the second trooper, who was mainly doing nothing, to man the gun. To his annoyance, he immediately met the same fate, his cries of pain cut off immediately as he collapsed to the side of the crate, one hand stuck holding the gun. The surviving trooper slammed his fist into the side of the crate, clearly pissed off, "And give Adams my sincerest fuck you, sir. If it was up to me, I'd strip him of that centurion armor myself. Fucking idiotic prick."

Randall barely spared the trooper a glance before he had already rolled out from behind his cover, managing to get behind another pair of crates bordering the ones he had previously been behind. Luckily, the geth armature hadn't noticed him, barely craning its neck as it continued to pepper the crate he  _had_ been behind with plasma fire and siege pulses. He tapped the comm on his new helmet, quickly pulling back the latch on his rifle to double check that a thermal clip was inside. Convinced there he was, he maintained his prone position, keeping out of the enemy's sight lines, "Agent Leng, this is Ezno. Respond."

Luckily, the assassin replied immediately, "Yes, Major?"

"Sitrep," he replied curtly, transferring from prone to crouched position, head peeking over to make sure the enemy still hadn't spotted him.

"I'm not by myself, if that's what you're worried about," Leng stated dryly, clearly not amused by what the Cerberus assassin likely considered babysitting, "I'm with a few of my phantoms, near the bridge. Keeping an eye on our UGC friends. And guess who's with them? Shepard's little suit rat, the prothean freak, the N7 bitch, that whiny piece of shit, the AI and that Hispanic fuckwit...oh, and a whole lot of geth."

Randall frowned, not liking his tone, "You have your orders. Remember that. Do. Not. Engage."

"Oh, do calm yourself," was the blurted reply on the other end, having predicted what the manhunter would say in earnest, "Like I said, keeping an eye on them. Observing. Most of them appear to be nothing a whole lot of nothing, but considering that their turrets are blowing apart anything that so much as draws breath on that bridge, I think they may have earned it. No way we're getting across unless those turrets leave the equation."

He quickly dashed out from cover, away from the crates, moving up a flight of stairs and towards the front of the courtyard. Although he wasn't spotted by either of the armatures, the downward screech of mass effect engines and the sudden gust of wind blowing into his back caused a switch to flick in Randall's head. Having been running towards a pair of sandbags (now facing the armatures) where a squad of assault troopers were entrenched, he instead quickly rolled to the right, right into the open. While the shelling that impacted the deck did have enough force to throw him further across, slamming into a safety barrier, his last minute evasion had saved him from certain death.

The dropship swooped by like a bird of prey, its plasma shells slamming into the ground as it completed its carpet bombing. Crates were blown apart, sandbags chewed up, and Randall watched as the troopers he had been approaching were hit by a direct impact, one soldier's body simply dispersing in all directions, while the rest were thrown away like ragdolls, blood sawing through the air like dust from wood freshly sawed. Blood splattered Randall's visor and chestplate: enough to be annoying, but not soaked at least.

Wiping the blood off his helmet, he stood up, ignoring the bruising along his back and right side: a side effect of hitting a safety barrier at full force. Most of his body now ached, but he pushed past it to stand up, gripping his rifle tightly as he gritted his teeth and pushed back into a sprint. He bent over, ignoring his body's protests at the uncomfortable positioning and continuing to piston himself forward. He had to reach the frontline. He needed to assess the situation and how best to save the battle.

_At the very least we kill Shepard. Sure, we'll martyr him...maybe. And if we do, we do: but without him, the UGC's defeat will be inevitable. His little alliance will fall apart...he's the only one keeping humans and batarians, quarians and geth, krogan and salarians, the Terminus and the Council united...when he dies, they'll turn on each other. Even if we lose the whole battle, it will be a victory to kill him...we might just win this war. After all, if this had been under Aria's leadership...we'd have kicked her off the station by now._

Of course, he'd have no choice but to let Leng have the honor. Otherwise, the assassin would never shut up about it.  _Let him have his jealously. Like a dog, you must train it to bite the hand that strikes it, not the hand that feeds it. If you can focus Leng on Shepard...then he'll do the rest. And if he dies in the process, I'll be happier for it: he's an insufferable git that Cerberus can do without._

The geth dropship was gone by now, but its aerial barrage had done the trick: scorch marks, in a neat line across the deck, left nothing but ruin in its wake: body parts, blood stains, metal shards from destroyed containers, piles of sand from popped sandbags, including sandbags that were unpopped and just tossed away by the explosions. Regardless, the dropship and its armature allies were doing a fine job of keeping the 6th suppressed...and that worried Randall.

 _Shepard knows they can only keep us suppressed...and that's what he counts on. He will be planning a counterattack soon. Amish saw that...that's why he diverted the 8th to the right flank. It's the only feasible zone he can attack from._ While the main entrance was the only way in and out of the bunker on foot, the left side of the bunker had perfect access to the right side of the district, whilst the left had nothing but open space...if he approached from that vector, he'd be spotted and easily countered. But if he approached from the east...the open streets, but plentiful buildings, would be perfect for krogan shock troops. Close quarters combat...krogan will always come out on top.  _At least with the 8th covering the flank, we'll be secure here. We just need to lessen the fire and remove those turrets on the bridge._

After a minute, Randall finally arrived at the bridge, where he found Leng and a squad of five phantoms crouched behind the barrier, heads just peeking over the edge enough for them to see the other side, but not be shot by the sentry guns. Leng had his sword out and leaning against the railing, his eyes focused entirely on the other side...watching them like a bird did when regarding creatures from afar.

He fell in behind him, crouched and rifle holstered on his back. Leng turned to him, giving him a simple nod, before returning back to his work, "Good thing you've arrived. Apparently Lieutenant Colonel Adams wants to try another push. He's hoping to coordinate artillery strikes to focus on suppressing those turrets...hopefully allow our troops to advance."

Randall gritted his teeth, once again angered by the commander's actions.  _Stupid baffoon._ "That's what our artillery has been  _trying to do_ this entire time. What does he think they're doing, shooting the bunker until they surrender? The artillery is too close to get enough of an angle to hit them. We can't get them further away because there isn't enough room further back."

The assassin just shrugged, "You're the commander. I'm the assassin. I just told him to do what he thinks is best...at least until he talked to you, of course. I'm sure you'll straighten him out, won't you?"

He shook his head, turning to try and find the Adams from where he was. So far, no luck, "I'll be stripping him of his damn rank, is what I'll be doing, Leng. Idiot has sacrificed far too many men already: I won't allow him to sacrifice anymore," doing one final scan of the area with his eyes, he still failed to find him, patting the assassin on the shoulder to get his attention, "Where is Adams?"

The assassin jabbed a thumb over to the other side of the bridge, "Behind one of the barriers. He got hit by the turrets trying to cross. His men pulled him back, but not before one of the turrets decided to have a nice, juicy arm for lunch. They're patching him up now, but he's been wailing like a little bitch for quite a bit now. I'd enjoy it if you could shut him up. He's a bit distracting."

Now that Randall focused on it, he could hear agonized roaning from the other side. Peeking over, he saw a centurion sitting against the safety railing on the opposite side from where he was, helmet removed and face looking ludicrously pale. His dark skin made it hard to tell, but the man looked to be nearly passed out, the lack of a right arm obviously the factor pertaining to that. Blood drenched that side of his armor, although orange medi-gel was dabbed all over the wound, along with several layers of bandages. An assault trooper (a medic by the red cross on his back and shoulders) was tending to him, while a guardian stood on his flank, using his shield to protect his CO from enemy fire. A nemesis was on the other side of him, sniper rifle sitting ontop of the railing and shooting at anything that moved, remaining out of the turret's range and sight.

Knowing he'd have to risk rushing across the bridge, Randall turned and motioned a nearby guardian over to him. The soldier wasted no time in rushing up to him, crouching down next to him as he spoke, "Yes sir, what do you need me for sir?"

He nodded to the man's shield arm, making his intent clear as he turned away and looked back across at the crippled Adams, "Your shield, soldier. Give it to me."

"Sir?"

"I need it to reach Adams," he held his right arm out, "No more questions. Give it to me now."

The guardian did as instructed, reaching down and unlatching it from the clasps on his arm. Taking the insidiously heavy object and strapping over Randall's arm, the manhunter felt an immense weight dropped on his arm, one he was expecting but not quite wanting. The shield slammed into the ground as his body dealt with the weight of it, and after a moment, he managed to lift it. Sighing, he turned back, taking the shield with him, confident he could wield it.

"You good, sir?" the guardian asked, looking like the average assault trooper now without his shield, wielding nothing but a Talon pistol which was currently holstered at his side.

"I'm fine, soldier," he snapped, waving him off dismissively, "Return to your post."

Hearing footsteps beside him, he assumed the trooper had done as ordered. Wasting no further time, he slammed the shield back into the floor, facing the bridge, making sure his entire body was hidden behind it: he even ducked his head under the slot, making sure no snipers could take advantage of it or a stray bullet didn't chip through it. Taking a deep breath, and his eyes set on the prize, Randall braced his legs, and dashed.

He felt himself thrown back a few inches from the sheer force of the four turrets opening fire on him simultaneously, but to his relief, not a single round hit him. Taken by surprise, he rebalanced himself and kept moving, hugging the shield tightly to himself and ignoring the pain of the shield being constantly pummelled against him by the high-powered rounds darting into it: this, mixed with the bruising he already received from before, was not leaving in a position of comfort, but he couldn't complain as long as he was alive...and with both arms.

It didn't take long before he was on the opposite side, unstrapping the shield from his arm once he was sure he was completely safe and dumping it on the ground. It landed with a echoing bang, Randall feeling as if a boulder the size of a car had been lifted from his arm: said arm could have been light as a feather from how light it felt now. Shaking it slightly, he crouched beside Adams, who lazily craned his head to face him, eyes droopy from the amount of morphine and medi-gel in his system.

"Ma...jor...Ran...Ez...no...sir..." Adams slurred. Instead of saluting, he just sat there, looking blankly at him. It was at that moment he looked down to his missing arm, gulping before raising his other hand to salute instead: the movement was sloppy however, his hand bashing uselessly against his forehead before flopping back into his lap, "I...woul...woul...would...have...pre-prep-"

He curtly interrupted the centurion, having no time to let the man finish even one sentence, "Save the formalities, commander. I'm relieving you of your post and command. As of now, your battalion answers straight to me. And you will  _not_ attempt to charge that bridge again."

The man gulped again, mouth looking dry and weathered, "I...unders...sta...sta..."

"He has a fever, sir," the medic replied, tapping at his omni-tool, "There's something in the air...I stitched him up as soon as I could, but his body, the air...its made him sick, faster than I thought it would. The wound was already beginning to show signs of infection when I treated it, but whatever's in those rounds the turrets are using, combined with the unhygienic air and the open wound...the best I can do is hope his cybernetics fight it off and his regeneration fixes at least some of it. If he survives, he'll need a prosthetic arm...cloning a new one is a bit expensive, so mechanical would be the best thing to do. As for the slurring...he's barely coherent at the moment sir. Had to give him an extra dose of morphine or Leng said he'd kill him...said the screaming was disturbing his work."

 _What work? Eying up meat before the kill? That's not work...that's a hobby._ Randall just scoffed, shaking his head, "Adams is lucky to be injured...I have half a mind to let Leng have him. This idiot jeopardized our mission."

The medic shrugged, "I just heal people, sir. Personal problems are for the brass to take care of. I'm not going to get involved."

Randall nodded, tapping the man on the back, "You do good work, keep it up. However, I don't want you to spend all your time on Adams. If he dies, don't shed any tears for him. There are plenty of more good men who deserve your attention."

"I'll do what I can," the medic replied, "Can't guarantee everyone will get treated though. We've got a lot of medics, but with that dropship running sorties, they're fast running out. I can't treat a thousand soldiers all at once."

The manhunter just nodded in agreement, before turning away and tapping his comms again, contacting the commander of the 8th regiment, Major Hela Ruth, "Major Ruth, this is Ezno. How fairs the 8th? Is the eastern flank bunkered down?"

Ruth's response was exasperated and miffed, "I still have hundreds of my troops moving into position, but if you mean we have all entry points checked...we do. This station's streets make it hard to move my troops around, and we're trying to keep beneath the notice of those geth ships that just turned up. I have my engineers deploying sentry turrets and setting up mines along every alleyway. If the enemy chooses to come through, we'll cut a knife through him before hitting the jugular. Now, if you don't mind, these comms suffer enough traffic as it is, I don't need yours added to it asking for inane things such as 'are we okay'?"

Randall was unamused, "Listen here, Ruth. If you have a bone to pick with me, then put it away. My regiment is getting hammered from all sides while you've just escaped the enemy's notice. I need to know the flank is secured so I can drag us out of this mess that Adams has created for us. Now, Colonel Amish gave you a job to do...get to it. I don't care if you don't like me, and I don't care if you think I'm bothering you...so far, we're all having a bad day. The cure for that is working together to fix it, not arguing and making it worse. Am I clear, Ruth?"

Her attitude remained unchanged, actually having the gall to laugh, "You don't get to talk down to me, Ezno. We're both of the same rank...I'm not some subordinate you can talk down to. You wanted to know if the east flank is secure, now you do. Unless Amish is telling me to go on the attack or delivers new orders, I don't want to hear a peep from you again."

Randall just chuckled at that, "We're not equals, Ruth. And perhaps I should ask Amish to demote you. You see, whereas this is your first combat op, this is not mine. Talk back to me again and I will personally come over there and kill you. Now,  _ally_ , keep the east flank bunkered down and we shouldn't have any further problems. If I hear anymore insults or objections over this comm line, I will send Leng over to deal with you: I don't want to hear a peep from you again. Good day." He then cut the comms, ensuring Ruth couldn't talk back again.

_The arrogance in these commanders. Will certainly need to get that sorted out._

With that done, he quickly switches comm channels to those of Papa Squadron-12, specifically squadron leader Papa-1, "Papa Actual, this is Romeo-49, allotment process in effect. We're experiencing extreme complications on the ground. Enemy forces are well entrenched and all attempts at an advance have been postponed indefinitely until those turrets are dealt with. SPGs are doing what they can and the 8th has the flank covered, but we're going to need you to turn up the heat, over: increase bombardment at Grid Alpha-Echo-9-6-9-9, aim to suppress and disperse. Say copy, over."

"Copy, grid target confirmed," Papa-1 replied, taking a few moments to process his new orders, "Ah, Romeo-49...we have a confirmation on that grid target, but that brings us within range of their active air defense, over. We have clear path to target, but once we commit, chances of effective payload delivery lessen as the flak thickens, Romeo-49. Please confirm operational authority for allotment, roger?"

Randall nodded, uploading the necessary credentials on his omni-tool, "Romeo-49 callsign confirmation underway. You have confirmation on your orders, Papa Actual: seek to destroy hostile targets, designated at Grid Alpha-Echo-9-6-9-9. We acknowledge danger close parameters and accept. Air support deemed vital, situation is FUBAR. Say confirm."

"Confirmed, Romeo-49. Right to allotment received and granted. Redirecting," Papa-1 replied, "Keeping it clear: danger close. Allied fast movers inbound."

Suddenly, just as Randall was about to sign off, he received a communications request from Channel Zebra-5. He frowned, realizing Zebra-5 was the 8th regiment's assigned recon group. Why they would be contacting him instead of Ruth, their actual commander, was unknown to him, but he moved to accept it all the same. Switching to the new channel, he quickly addressed it, although he wasn't happy at being suddenly interrupted, "This is Romeo-49 to Zebra-5. What is the meaning of this cross channel? This is a 6th regiment channel. Transfer to 8th regiment channels and inform your section commander."

"Not a mistake, Romeo-49. Intentional cross channel inteference. Colonel Amish told me this information should be relayed to you and Major Ruth," the recon unit stated, sounding entirely serious, "Target Designate 'Wild Lion' has been spotted leaving the eastern side of the base, over. Groundside tangos advancing towards the 8th regiment's position. Please advise."

Randall's eyes widened. Target Designate 'Wild Lion'.

_Shepard._

"Fall back to 8th regiment positions. If Major Ruth can hear this, prepare to be reinforced. I'm bringing reinforcements to back you up," he ordered, leaning down to grab the shield again, strapping it back onto his arm, feeling its massive weight this time befall his right arm instead of his left, preparing to make the crossing again, "What's the composition of the enemy force?"

"Massive, sir. An army," Zebra-5 replied, the sound of their retreating footsteps heard over the radio, "They've got a krogan battalion, a battalion of Blue Suns and another battalion of Eclipse. They've got a lot of mech support, a bunch of heavies and they're roughly the same size as the 8th: we'll lose whatever numerical advantage we have, and then some."

Randall nodded, continuing to talk as he rushed across the bridge, again reeling as the turrets bombarded his shield, but was left unharmed as he finished the crossing, "We have mechs too: Ruth, have your troops fall back behind the mines and establish defensive positions. Have your Atlas mechs behind your guardians and your Ramparts up front...hold them back. I'll take what troops I can and meet up with you. I've got a plan for how we can destroy them."

Switching comms again, he this time contacted Amish himself. He dropped his shield for the final time, tapping Leng's shoulder. The assassin turned to him irritatingly, but frowned even further when he saw Randall frantically waving at him to follow. Grabbing his sword, he sheathed it and rushed after Randall, who was now making best speed for BSA.

A moment later, Amish's voice came over the comms, "Major Ezno. I expect this to be a situation report."

"Drastic, colonel," Randall stated, crouching behind some crates as one of the armatures spotted him and opened fire. Leng joined him, still looking confused as to what was going on, "Shepard's made a move. He's got a two thousand strong force barrelling straight for the right flank. I'm taking some troops to reinforce it..." he turned to Leng, nodding, "...sir, this is our chance. With our two forces engaging each other, the chaos will mean nobody will be paying attention. If we can lure Shepard away...we can kill him."

Silence over the radio, the colonel pondering his request. Randall silently hoped he would accept, even though he had no personal stake in killing Shepard.  _It's just business. He's our enemy, and he needs to die. An unfortunate fact, but he brought it upon himself._ Finally, Amish responded, sounding hesitant, "You seem fairly confident, major. Are you absolutely sure you can do this? You'll only get one shot."

He noted Leng's grin, as if he was a child who had just received his first present on Christmas. He sighed, nodding reluctantly, "It has to be done. And if we fail, we can still escape intact and try again. But if you don't at least try...we're obligated to, colonel. I wouldn't commit to this unless I was sure we could do it."

"Very well," Amish replied, "I will inform Petrovsky, but as operational commander, I give you the greenlight. Do what you must to lure Shepard away and quietly dispose of him. Without him, Aria's leadership will make defeating this insurgency a menial task. You have my sanction to commence the attack. For humanity."

"For humanity," Randall mimicked, followed by Leng. Turning off the comm, Randall barely got a word out before the assassin spoke, "So we're finally doing it. You're starting to earn my respect, Ezno."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't give a damn about your respect. I do this because we must, not because of your petty jealously," he held a hand up, cutting off any further objection from the assassin, "Don't say anything else...just  _do_. You are going to tke some of your phantoms and advance ahead my relief forces. Once you get there, disperse them and locate Shepard.  _Do not engage him straight away_. Find him, track his movements. Once I've arrived, I'll give you the go ahead to lure Shepard off the battlefield. Do  _only that_. You will lure him to an isolated area, and then once we've trapped him, it's weapons free. We will take him down  _together_."

Leng narrowed his eyes to slits, clearly not 'respecting' Randall as much as he initially claimed, "I am not stupid, Ezno. I understand we must work together to defeat him. I will lure him the best way I know how. He is so very easy to antagonize."

He nodded, "Kill a member of his squad if you deem it necessary to attract his undivided attention...but do not make an obsession out of it. We're here to kill him, not torture him. We're not here for your games."

The assassin mumbled under his breath, before grabbing his sword and running off, activating his cloak once more. Exhaling with some annoyance, he turned back to where he had been trying to reach, keeping low so as to remain outside the notice of the armatures above. Finally reaching the position where he had left Sergeant Farques, he found only several more corpses ontop of those from before, Farques' among them.

Then, the familiar screech of descending engines.

He fell prone, rolling onto his back as he looked up into the air to see the belly of the dropship as it passed by. He felt the reverbrations through the deck from its bombardment, even hearing the thump of a body nearby, likely having been thrown across the courtyard.

He quickly got back to his feet, taking note of the carnage left behind by the recent attack. Luckily, only a few soldiers were killed this time...as opposed to the dozen of last. With the dropship now gone, the dispersed troopers rushed back to their defensive positions, desperately escaping the plasma fire of the geth.

_Good. Now I know my target._

Basking in the safety of his cover, he quickly rushed over to the dead Farques and his men, grabbing hold of the sergeant's body and roughly tossing it away, looking for any sort of weapon he could use against the geth ship. Luckily, as he shifted two or more cadavers apart, he found it soon enough. There, hidden between the two of them and buried under their bodies, was an M-560 Triburst Missile Launcher, otherwise known as the Hydra.

Designed by the Alliance, the Hydra had four rocket pods at he front of it, forming a square-like shape. Each barrel is loaded with a missile, and when fired, the weapon fired three missiles in quick succession. Each missile had three shaped charges inside, doubling its usual explosive payload. When used on a single target, the result was devastating, usually ending in the complete decimation of the victim on the opposite end. When used on multiple targets (as it had a lock on feature), the effects remained significant, with each rocket possessing the explosive firepower to heavily damage a shielded Atlas. It was probably the most powerful explosive-based heavy weapon aside from the M-920 Cain, and with it, Randall had his weapon of choice.

He pulled it out, quickly pulling the rocket pods out. He did this by extending each barrel outwards so he could check to makes sure it was loaded. Each chamber was loaded with two missiles, allowing for two 'tribursts' before forcing the user to reload. The weapon was unused, each of its eight missiles still loaded into the tubes. Satisfied, he clicked them back into place, holding the weapon firmly as he looked back up, keeping an eye on the two armatures. They hadn't spotted him yet, and he knew that if he wanted to get a good firing line at the dropship, he would have to get onto the rooftops.

Where the armatures were.

He looked between them and his launcher, knowing he had to make a decision.  _I have enough missiles loaded for two kills. I can neutralize one of the armatures, but once I do, I'll only have one more salvo for the geth attack ship...I'll have to make each missile count. I'll only get one chance._

In the end, he made his choice, finger guiding itself gently infront of the trigger.  _Very well. First, the right most armature. Take it out, I can jump straight onto the rooftop. The second armature will be distracted long enough for me to eliminate the dropship._

He turned to a squad of troopers nearby, keying his comm, "All of you, fire upon the left armature! Keep it distracted! I'll take out the one on the right! Suppressing fire!"

The squad responded immediately to his commands, guiding out of their cover to fire directly upon the armature on their side. Gunfire pelted its kinetic barriers, forcing it to turn and address the new threat...including the right armature.

It was now vulnerable.

Popping out from behind the crates, he fell to one knee, taking aim with the Hydra. He lowered the sights over the geth walker, listening as three beeps on the weapon's side indicating he had a lock-on for each missile. The butt pressed firmly against his shoulder, he took the shot: his finger held down the trigger.

He grunted as the first rocket exploded from the first tube, the second spinning into place with a clunk. The back blast as intense, smoke blowing in his face, but he held on tightly, reeling as the second missile left the second tube. Finally, the third and final missile fired, all of this occurring in merely two seconds. A long stream of three missiles, in single file, streaking towards their victim.

The geth assault tank stumbled as the first missile made impacted, the colossal explosion causing it to stumble to its side, screeching electronically. Its kinetic barriers were annihilated on impact, but largely left the armature intact. It twisted its optics to find the new threat, only for the second missile to strike it directly in the optics. Without barriers and possessing limited armor in that area, its head simply disappeared as the bright, orange blast consumed everything from the neck upwards. By the time the smoke cleared, the armature twitching due to its decapitated body, the third and final missile struck in the belly. This burst lifted the armature off the ground, causing it to topple to its side, smoke and flames licking across its form. It landed with a bang, utterly silent, body decimated by the Hydra assault.

The squad, having lost half its continegent, continued to fight the final armature, but howled triumphantly at the geth's destruction. There was now only one armature, and with its comrade gone, a gaping hole of opportunity that Randall could now take advantage of.

Racing forward, Hydra still under arm, Randall got ready to activate his thruster pack, finding the structure was just under half the height of the pack's maximum velocity. Fortunate in this discovery, he quickly reached the side of the building, and initiated his pack. His entire body jolted as he shot upwards, quickly zooming in on the rooftops within seconds. Completely leaving the ground, he cut off all thrust as he felt himself move past the edge. With momentum being the only factor keeping him from outright falling, he guided himself over the rooftop, falling into a roll that left him crouched next to the smoking remains of the now deceased geth walker.

He was just in time too: his head snapped up as he heard an ear piercing sonic boom, finding the dropship decloaking in the distance as it banked a hard turn, bringing it back to facing the direction of the courtyard, and approaching at a rapid pace. His estimates gave him about six seconds before it was ontop of him.

Acting quickly, he raised the launcher, pinning the sights directly on his primary target. He steadied his balance, allowing for the three beeps to assure him that he had a lock on. Now he just had to wait...if he fired too soon, the dropship could drop decoys or simply swerve out of the way, and if he fired too late, the same could result. He had to time it perfectly...without fail.

_Wait. Be patient. Steady your aim. Count down the seconds until proximity becomes acceptable. Don't give it to time to perform maneveurs, and fire just close enough that all three missiles are guaranteed to hit. I want it to feel every, single, punch._

Five.

Four.

Three.

 _ **Two**_.

He pulled down and held the trigger, once again shaking as three, rocket-propelled projectiles roared from their tubes, Randall lowering his weapon as he watched the rockets close the distance. The dropship, now too moving in too fast to move away and carrying too much momentum, could do nothing as the first two missiles splattered across its hull, cracking its barriers in time for the third strike to erupt along its bow. The blast tore the front of the dropship in half, the shockwave causing Randall to stumble back slightly, hand infront of his face as he felt the heat wash over him.

Destroyed, the back end of the ship spun wildly out of control, Randall watching as it glided across the area, narrowly missing the bridge and the courtyard, to slam into the bunker's exterior below the bridge, the massive bang concluded by one final fireball, the dropship's demise complete as what was left slid quietly into Omega's depths.

Tossing away the now empty Hydra, Randall breathed slightly, but didn't give himself time to celebrate his triumph, immediately grabbing his rifle and letting it collapse into his hands. He turned towards the geth armature, making sure it-

He growled angrily as his barriers snapped away instantly, a plasma bolt striking him in the side. He fell to one knee, quickly raising his other arm, emitting an omni-shield as more plasma rounds like it slammed it into its orange, flash forged suface. The armor around the wound hissed angrily, and he gritted his teeth in pain, the burns underneath likely far more severe that was on the surface. He felt as if he was on fire, and he found nothing but blackened skin beneath, still sizzling from the recent impact of plasma.

The second armature had caught on quickly, its head turned to face him fully, pelting him relentlessly. He could see its optics beginning to glow too: the formation of a siege pulse. His bruises had mostly healed, so while the hole in his side hurt immensely, it was manageable, and he quickly deactivated his shield, rolling to the side just as the siege pulse fired, arcing through the space he had been in before to strike the rooftop's edge behind him, taking a huge chunk of it and raining rubble into the alley below.

He primed a frag grenade and immediately tossed it, and a second later, whipped out his rifle in a flash, firing six bursts straight into the armature even before the grenade hit the ground.

The armature barely felt the bullets, but it certainly felt the grenade, which rolled beneath its feet before detonating. Its barriers absorbed the majority of the blast, but severely weakened them. Randall prepared to lay down the pressure, reaching down to prime another grenade, this time an EMP. Just as he was grabbing it from his back however, he heard the telltale scream of a dropship.

No,  _two_ screams.

He looked up, watching as the two dropships swooped in, apparently summoned by the death of their compatriot. Immediately locking onto him, Randall had mere seconds to holster his rifle, spin around and run before they began pulverizing the vicinity of plasma shells. Combined with the tracing fire of the armature's machine gun behind him, Randall found himself in the flight for his life as two ships and a geth tank ganged up on the manhunter in an attempt to avenge both of their dead. While most missed, he could feel them getting closer...yet again, so was the rooftop's edge. He just kept running, and running, his legs propelling him forward like the wheels of a Mako...never stopping...only doing so if they were broken.

Reaching the edge he leapt off, huddling himself into a ball mid plunge. He could feel nothing but air rushing around him, cooling his skin and chilling his bones. The wound in his side flared angrily in protest, but he ignored it as he got closer to freedom. Once he saw he was closer to the ground, he activated his thruster pack, which immediately began to slow his descent. Within moments, he hit the ground with a thud, his arms and legs unfolding to land in a crouch.

Without taking the time to absorb his surroundings, he turned and rushed through the nearest alleyway, out of sight of the enemy dropships. Once he was back in the courtyard, he tapped his comms, moving onto the next step of his plan, "6th regiment, this is Romeo-49. Enemy dropship eliminated and one of those armatures is down. Focus fire on the second and take it down. I want some of the D-09s manned and pushing the geth back, but do not cross the bridge until air support confirms the turrets have been taken out. I want A, F and U companies to accompany me to the right flank. Target Designate 'Wild Lion' is on the field, and is a priority target to intercept and destroy. Assemble at BSA. We move out in the next two minutes."

With that said, Randall closed the comm, grabbed a medi-gel packet, and dabbed some of it on his wound, dulling the sensation. With his injury tended to, he reloaded his harrier, thoughts moving to the awaiting battle to the east.

Whatever it was, it would decide the tide of the battle. And, if Leng and Randall succeeded, the fate of the UGC itself.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0804 hours._

_Eastern Esplanade, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, First Lieutenant Jack, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak, Lieutenant Bray, Lieutenant Nakmor Dreg, General Nyreen Kandros, Battalion Commander Urdnot Grunt, Lieutenant Augusna Palisus, Captain Jiiir Shios._

Now it was  _on_.

He ducked, raising his pulse rifle to his shoulder and feeling it thump repeatedly as he mowed down an unshielded centurion trying to cover the retreat of his comrades, only for Marcus' high penetration geth rifle to pile bullet after bullet into him, killing him in seconds. He shouted for the Eclipse mechs to push forward, sprinting forward as the covering fire of a YMIR mech's heavy machine gun devastated an entire Cerberus squad, allowing him to advance.

Their attack was intended to be quick and decisive, but it seemed Petrovsky had predicted this move: an entire enemy regiment stood ready to repulse the UGC counterattack, but that didn't mean they were going to turn tail and run back to the bunker: no, they were here now. And they were going to win.

Since he called the meeting with Aria, Nyreen and General Golo after the battle began, Marcus knew the only way to win would be to attack the enemy head on. A charge across the bridge would result in too many casualties even if their chances of success were 50/50. An aerial deployment would also be too costly with the enemy gunships and fighters roaming the sky, but it seemed in the end that Aria had come up with the solution: an eastern passage, linking directly to the Eastern Esplanade, and giving direct, flanking access to the courtyard. Perfect for breaking the siege, and it was hoped they could take Cerberus by surprise to maximize the efficiency of such an attack. As it was, they were committing a large majority of their forces to this maneveur, with the rest hanging back to provide support to the vanguard at the entrance, or to repel ground forces if they managed to infiltrate from a different direction.

So far, surprise was no longer an option: Shios, the commander of the Eclipse forces, had one of her forward recon teams report back to her, and it seemed Cerberus had already moved one of their two regiments to the east to counter that maneveur, Petrovsky almost certainly predicting an attack from that area. But while the UGC would be facing a fully prepared, entrenched enemy of equal numerical value, he still had the advantage in superior troops (namely krogan and expendable mechs), an entire battalion of tech experts and a squad of biotics led by the galaxy's most powerful biotics: this meant that even Cerberus was entrenched, they soon wouldn't be.

There was also the Cerberus issue of a lack of air support: while they still had fighters and bombers, they were entirely focused on bombing the front of the FOB, meaning they wouldn't be able to assist effectively. Any gunships they had were chased off by the geth and likely destroyed by now, and any more would easily be fended off. Unfortunately for them, the Blue Suns and Eclipse had plenty of gunships...and they had no problems bringing them to bare too.

Another retreating squad, this one holding a missile launcher, kept moving back, their guardians holding their shields up and forward, while their assault troopers ocassionally popped out to provide suppressing fire. They stood no chance, a Blue Suns gunship swerving around to their side to slam them with its M25 autocannon, the devastating firepower chewing through them like a krogan's teeth did varren meat. Blood and viscera splattered across the vicinity as heads popped, torsos shredded and screams echoed. It was meat grinder, and despite their most valiant attempts, they were helpless to stop them. The missile trooper fired a missile off at the gunship, managing to down its already weakened shields, but it mattered little, the trooper meeting his fate soon afterwards via Xiphos 34 rocket, which hit him directly, causing him to disappear into a fine, crimson fog.

Another assault trooper got lucky however, his own missile launcher slamming into the side of the gunship, causing it to recoil backwards. The pilot tried to bring it around to deal with the new target, only for a nemesis to snipe him through the cockpit, blue blood splattering all over the tinted windows, causing him to disappear behind its thick canopy. The vehicle spun out of control, and without a pilot to guide it back to safety, it flew back violently, killing three of Grunt's krogan commandos, injuring another and annihilating an Eclipse squad. The injured krogan got off with a mangled hand, but the injury was enough to send him into a blood rage, the krogan roaring mightily as he charged the enemy team responsible. They pelted him with gunfire, orange blood scattering itself across the krogan's path, but he remained unstoppable. He collided with the centurion, bashing him across the head with his assault rifle.

He proceeded to pound the soldier's skull in ruthlessly, reducing it to red jelly. Still being pelted with bullets, the krogan turned around, shrugging them off as he grabbed the nearest assault trooper, lifted him off the ground and then slammed him back to the deck, head first, snapping it with a loud crack. He swatted the shotgun out of the hand of another, before raising his rifle with one hand and tearing his head apart. He was impaled through the back by a phantom, causing blood to spurt from his maw, but this merely enraged the commando further, who reared his head back and headbutted her, before turning around and, snarling, wrapped his hands around her and crushed her windpipe. In the end, it was a dragoon with a grenade launcher that finally put the commando down, the krogan practically eating it as it arced into his mouth, exploding inside and taking his upper torso with it. The lower half collapsed ontop of the dead phantom, lifeless.

A singularity appeared infront of another enemy squad, this one full of guardians, lifting them into the air and causing them to spiral around uselessly, their shields made pointless. Marcus audibly thanked Liara before he joined his fire with Garrus', turning it into a game of who could kill the most soldiers as they shot them down. The singularity soon dissipated, causing their gravitationally dispersed corpses to simply flop to the deck.

He heard Grunt's furious roar, turning to see a guardian, who had been playing dead, grab his boot knife and stab the krogan in the shin as he stalked past. The krogan turned to look down at him, looking annoyed at the mere bug bite, before tearing his foot free and bringing it back down, squashing the guardian's skull. He scrubbed his foot along the deck for equal measure before lifting his foot up again, shaking it to shake off all the unwanted, slippery flesh that had stuck to it. He leaned down and ripped the blade free, orange blood oozing from the wound, but the krogan commander ignoring it as he trudged forward, claymore blasting the shield of second guardian, causing him to stumble. He fired again, once again stumbling the guardian before he closed the distance.

He lowered his shotgun, grabbing hold of the top of the shield as he pulled it down to the ground. Head exposed, Grunt landed his shotgun ontop of the shield, using it as a stabilizer, before pulling the trigger and blowing the trooper's head apart. Blinking his eyes to wash away the blood stuck in them, he pulled his shotgun back up and kicked the shield away, leaving the headless guardian to fall down. Stepping around him, he strafed to the left, dodging a phantom's blade before shooting her in the hands, the claymore's large, tungsten slug causing the hands to simply disappear, sword clattering to the floor. She screamed, falling to her knees as she looked at her handless appendages. Grunt simply shook his head, mouth creased in a lack of impression before he grabbed the top of her head with one hand, and roughly twisted it, snapping her neck.

"Fall back!" a centurion shouted, "All units, fall back to Position Beta! Where the fuck is our air support!? They've got gunships! All heavies, focus on the damn gunships! Squads Alpha, Kilo, Foxtrot, Golf, Quebec and Casper retreat! Suppressing fire on Position Charlie!"

He slid into cover behind a pile of bodies, reaching behind his back and priming an incendiary grenade. He tossed it at what had been identified as Squad Foxtrot, watching it land just in the direction of their retreat. Noticing it too late, the squad attempted to scatter, the explosive detonating beneath the feet of their centurion. Flames flashed across the vicinity, the centurion being incinerated immediately while his guardian bodyguard screamed as their bodies were consumed by fire. The rest of the team scattered, only to be cut down by a platoon of Blue Suns legionnaires and their vindicator battle rifles.

_Advance. Push. Kill. Advance. Push. Kill._

Squad Golf found themselves in the crosshairs of Jack's tango squad, her students letting it rip with a flurry of warps, throws, pulls and shockwaves. He even watched as Jack herself, her arm reared forward and projecting a 'backlash' biotic hoplon shield infront of her, suddenly disappeared only to appear meters away, directly behind a combat engineer. She reached up and snapped his neck, before biotically swatting aside five assault troopers and shooting another in the back of the head. Her students mopped up the rest, either shooting or using their biotics to devastate the enemy's ranks.

Shios and Palisus worked in tandem: an almost alien sight when considering their organization's history. The asari Eclipse captain covered the turian Blue Suns lieutenant with her biotics, using a mixture of barriers and reaves to support him while the turian, favouring his vindicator battle rifle and tech armor, picking off targets at a distance. Regardless of their original mercenary affiliation, it was certainly a sight to behold seeing them working together, even if their Stormtrooper combat armor was a different color.

They were like a freight train: constantly driving forward, rolling over anything that got in their way. Not for once did the retreating Cerberus units and their 'suppression fire' ever halt them: whenever the mercs lost their momentum, their gunships were there to chew some dust. If the gunships weren't enough, you could be damn sure Grunt's army of wrecking machines did the job. It helped that the Eclipse had an army of mechs at their disposal: LOKI mechs forming a support line of weak, but numerically superior, cannon fodder supplemented by harassing FENRIS mechs, heavily armoured YMIRs and nimble and airborne HEL drones. Even with only the bare minimum of his squad present (only having Liara, Garrus and Kasumi to call upon), Marcus had never felt as on the move as he did at that moment.

Within minutes, the few Cerberus troops left had given up on a fighting withdrawal and were running full pelt, backs turned and everything. The streets were littered with Cerberus dead, although it had its fair share of UGC casualties too: at least a few squads of Eclipse and Blue Suns lay deceased, the wrecks of many LOKI, FENRIS and HEL drones scattered about as well. Even several of Grunt's men had been killed, although not much. Only one of their gunships had been taken down, but it was enough.

Three Eclipse and four Blue Suns gunships covered their advance from the air, raining missiles and bullets down upon the withdrawing enemy. Their payload stopped once they saw the enemy in retreat, and Marcus knew they had to press forward, but cautiously.

_By my estimates, that was at least a hundred or so troops we killed. Nowhere near the full compliment of the enemy. The rest of them will be waiting nearby. That was likely a recon element: a probing attack, if anything else. They want to see what we've got._

Grunt apparently thought the same, "They're on the run, battlemaster. But I don't think it's because they're routing."

He nodded, agreeing, "All units, stay frosty. I fully expect the enemy to be waiting around the corner...gunships, run an aerial sweep. We'll move ahead, but we're counting on you to dish out the hurt when we need. On that note, all forces: move forward. Cover all flanks and keep pushing. It's not over yet, but we're getting there. Make our presence known."

With his squad at his side, Grunt and Jack not far behind, he continued his steady jog towards the enemy's lines, always keeping his pulse rifle up, eyes scanning the area for any possible ambushes. As time went on and they closed in on the streets surrounding the courtyard, he could see Blue Suns, Eclipse and UKC troops steadily outrunning him, while their mech forces (with the exception of the faster FENRIS' and HELs) lagged behind, forced to stalk forward due to their inability to run.

Marcus watched as the last of the retreating pro-human troops disappeared around the numerous street corners. However, Marcus didn't fail to see the helmet of a combat engineer peek out from behind one to look at them, before quickly pulling out when he saw he had been spotted. Marcus frowned at that, motioning for his squad to halt when he saw it.

_Wait...something isn't right._

It was then that his eyes trailed down to the ground. Only then did he truly see it. Dozens of black, circular pads along the ground, small and largely unrecognizable. They were usually cloaked to conceal them, but every tactical cloak had to recharge eventually, and these mines had just deactivated theirs. Luckily for Cerberus, a platoon of Grunt's men, as well as several from the Eclipse and Blue Suns, had already begun walking over them when they decloaked. One by one, they appeared...dozens of them, materializing out of thin air seemingly, littering the street and covering every access point.

_They wanted us to follow...right into their trap._

The mines were clearly remotely activated, as the combat engineer around the corner, not to mention the likely presence of many more of them, determined. It was too late for Marcus to call them back, and he was forced to watch as Cerberus detonated the mines. In a cascade of flashes, a sight akin to fireworks going off, all the UGC forces that been present vanished, screaming heard as they were blown up, exploded, ripped to shreds or rendered limbless. The sheer force of the blasts was intense, with bits of deck plating being ripped off the ground and the sides of buildings either being permanently scarred with black scorches or tearing holes in them.

By the time the smoke thinned out for them to see clearly, it was over. Every mine had blown up, ruining the landscape. Everywhere the blasts touched was blackened, with panelling having been ripped up to expose the circuitry, sewrage and piping below. Some had been ruptured, water spewing into the air in huge spurts, some of it murky and some of it barely defined as clean. It was made even worse when most of the water shooting up was now coated in the blood of those caught in the blasts.

None of the mercenary or krogan soldiers that had traversed the minefield survived, their remains scattered about in unrecognizable shards and chunks as part of a gallery of deceased UGC. From the looks of it, their deaths had at least been instantaneous, but it had taken quite a chunk of their forces, and it was clear that had been Cerberus' intention the whole time.

_We fell right into their trap._

Even now, he watched as at least a squad's worth of combat engineers emerged from cover, quick as lightning, taking advantage of the commotion to line up in single file, dropping to their knees as they reached behind their backs and grabbed their individual sentry turrets, dropping them to the deck and activating them. Realizing what was happening, Marcus burst through a nearby stream of water, this one green and smelly, ignoring the disgusting unpalatable water soaking his armor as he rushed for the nearest building, "Everybody, get to cover! Far left!"

They quickly heeded his command, all ground forces rushing to the left where there was plenty of buildings to hide behind to escape the sentry gun fire, while their gunships engaged the combat engineers, seeking to destroy the turrets so their ground units could advance. Unfortunately, they were quickly chased off when two squads along the rooftops behind the sentry gun emplacements appeared, wielding numerous types of anti-aircraft weaponry. They pulled back, managing to get out of range of the heavy weapons, but unable to break the Cerberus line.

He hit the wall on the nearest building, nodding as Garrus, Kasumi, Liara, Nyreen and Aria quickly arrived beside him. He wiped some of the repulsive substance from his visor, doing so just enough so he could see properly. But just as Marcus thought things couldn't get any worse,  _they did_.

Appearing on both sides of the rooftops behind them, both left and right, were five nemesi (ten in total), all of them crouching and taking aim at their troops below. Marcus only just spotted them and, already in position, he was too late to call out before they picked targets and opened fire. Ten raptor sniper rifles coughed and echoed, and three Blue Suns turians, one Eclipse salarian, five of Aria's men and one of the krogan fell, their heads blown wide open.

"Stand still, you piece of shit!" Aria snapped, reaching up with a glowing biotic hand to lift one of the nemesi on the left into the air, before roughly pulling her down towards them. She let go about halfway, watching with glee as the nemesi fell to her death, a crack heard as she simply thudded onto the floor. She groaned, trying to move, only for Shios to pin her to the ground and place a round through the back of her skull with her pistol.

The rest of the nemesi went prone, keeping out of any biotic's reach but still managing to keep an eye on their targets. Marcus gritted his teeth at their new situation, pissed off that he had allowed them to fall into this situation. Of course Petrovsky had predicte their every move...even when he said he wouldn't underestimate the General, he usually ended up doing so anyway.

He was quick to act, motioning to Bray and Dreg, who were covering themselves behind omni-shields, "Bray, Dreg, gather your men, form a defensive picket. Jack, have you and your students use your biotics to cover as many of our men as possible. I want the Eclipse and Blue Suns to perform suppressive action on the nemesi immediate to your vicinity. Grunt, have you and your krogan grab their heavies and suppress the nemesi to the far right. Aria, Liara, coordinate biotics and help the 1st Aralakh kill those nemesi. Garrus, use your sniper rifle and kill as many as possible. Kasumi, Nyreen, you're with me," he turned to the turian, eyebrow raised, "That is, if you're okay with me giving the commands."

The female turian simply shrugged, serious as ever, "I'll follow your lead, Shepard."

He nodded, "Good. You're going to have to if we want to smash the opposition."

True to his orders, the UGC force scrambled to deal with the scenario, Grunt's troops firing their grenade and missile launchers across the street while Liara hurled singularities and Aria flares. Everybody else just focused their attention on the enemy directly above them, desperate to break the strangle hold Cerberus was likely trying to tighten.

Then, reinforcements arrived: or, perhaps, finally caught up.

Rockets and machine gun fire joined the stream of gunshots pelting the rooftops, and Marcus turned to watch as an entire skirmish line of LOKI mechs, with four YMIRs behind them, moved in to assist, locking onto the Cerberus snipers and firing upon them with everything they had. It was enough to keep the enemy entirely unable to fire back, not willing to risk having their heads blown off in trying to attain a kill shot. This meant that the only real threat now was coming from the right.

Just as Marcus was moving to check on the turrets, Garrus appeared beside him, looking to have an idea if his thoughtful look was anything to go by, "Marcus, I've got a plan on how to take care of those nemesi. With all our forces down here keeping them suppressed, I can use my jetpack to sneak up behind them and take them out. Then, from up there, I can get an accurate shot at the snipers across the street. Afterwards, I could even take out those heavies so that our gunships can clear those turrets."

He sighed, regarding the turian's plan in his head. A part of him said he should be skeptical, but the other, larger part, told him that if he anyone could pull it off, it was the man formerly known as Archangel. He gave the turian a single nod, "Very well. Our forces down here will keep them occupied while you sneak around and take them out. If you have an opening to deal with those heavies, take it."

The turian nodded, and quickly grabbed the helmet attached to his side, clipping it on over his head. Holstering his modified Reaper sniper rifle and swapping it for his Vindicator battle rifle, he vaulted over their cover and rushed for the building, doing so quickly enough so as to not draw the attention of the soon-to-be dead nemesi above.

Luckily for them, Garrus was successful. As Marcus had Kasumi and Nyreen join him in opening fire on the hiding enemy snipers, doing their part to keep up the ruse of a pinned UGC force. Meanwhile, Garrus triumphantly reached the alleyway parting the two buildings, and activated his jetpack. Marcus could only watch as the twin thrusters on his back ignited, blowing him upwards at tremendous speed and velocity. He switched them off as he reached the top, rolling onto the rooftop and out of view, leaving Marcus to imagine what was going on up there.

A few moments passed: Marcus reloaded his pulse rifle three times, raking the roof's edge with pulse rounds while Nyreen and Kasumi fired their Pugio heavy pistol and Locust SMGs respectively alongside him, the former even ocassionally dispatching a biotic warp or throw to add to the suppression, the threat of being successfully caught in a biotic blast adding to the nemesi's deterrent towards poping their head out.

Just when Marcus was about to tap the comm for a status update, he watched as one of the nemesi finally appeared over the edge: but instead of facing them and readying a shot, she was slowly backing towards them with her back turned, sniper rifle raised at a target behind her. She cried out as her head snapped back, the nemesis going limp before dropping her sniper rifle, plummeting off the edge where she slammed into the street below.

A moment passed, and Garrus' voice, "Nemesi on the left flank neutralized," a Reaper sniper rifle appeared over the rooftop's edge, and Marcus immediately knew it was the turian, "Preparing to relieve the right of their pest problem. Remind me to remind James later just how useful sniper rifles can be."

Nyreen looked lessed than amused by the comment, standing up as she moved to reload, only to find herself out of thermal clips. Kasumi handed one out to her, and the turian gratefully took it, bowing her head in thanks before slamming the clip into the pistol's chamber, "I didn't think battlefield banter appropriate at this moment."

Garrus just chuckled, before punctuating his quip with a loud, rapturous bang, his rifle having found a target and kissed them with hot lead. On the other side, one of the nemesi fell back, eliminated, "Battlefield banter is always appropriate. Besides, I'm currently carrying the team here. Show me a little appreciation by letting him have some jokes."

Marcus shrugged, smiling, "He's got a point, Nyreen. Besides, they're all bad jokes, so he's got to have some time to say them. You know, get them over with."

"I'll remember you said that, Marcus," the turian remarked, followed by another loud bang and another dead nemesis, "Especially when you crack another one of  _your_ pitiful jokes." Another bang. And another. Garrus was on a killing spree, especially considering all the nemesi that were dropping like flies on the other side.

"Oh, but  _Garbear_..." Marcus shot back, grinning from ear to ear.

Another shot, another kill, "I'm going to make sure Kasumi comes up with a nickname for you so that we're even. Can't have me getting all the appreciation, after all."

"I'm sure its out of pity, turian. You're too ugly for natural love."

One final shot marked the death of the last of Cerberus' attempts at a flanking maneveur, "Well, this ugly turian just saved the day. Now, if you'll excuse me...I've got a long-range date with some heavies, and a whole lot of hot, lead-based kisses to give them. I'll leave you to think of more insults."

"You're a turian!" Marcus jested, chuckling to himself despite knowing exactly what Garrus had meant, "You have mandibles, not lips."

"Lips are disgusting anyway," Garrus tossed back.

"Something we can agree on at least," Nyreen replied, a slight smile on her face.

"Hey!" Liara intervened, "You are  _both_ dating people with lips, thank you very much!"

Garrus was quick to object to that, " _Flirting_ with, not  _dating_."

"And it was  _dated_ ," Nyreen interjected. She paused for a moment, rethinking that comment, "Actually...I don't think a whole lot of dating was done at all, if I recall."

"Something a certain commander is very keen to continually forget!"

"Weren't you dating a few heavies?"

"Oh, you mean these guys?" A loud report sounded over the comms, quickly echoing across the street, "Well, I kissed one of them but I think a little too hard. You see, his head exploded, and he's sorta dead," another bang, "Damn, I must be a real heavy hitter. These guys are  _literally_  blown away by  _me_ ," two more shots, the turian whistling, "That's two more down. By the time I'm done, I'm going to set the record date for most dates in the smallest amount of time!"

A few minutes passed as the group silently stood there, gripping their weapons anxiously, waiting for the gunships appearing as a sign to move in. After about five minutes, Garrus' voice tuned in once again, tone full of giddy success, "And that...is what I call support. I've signalled the gunships to move in. You're all clear, Marcus!"

"Copy that!" raising his rifle, he rose one hand, motioning forward, "All units, continue the assault!"

Just as Marcus cleared the corner, leading the assault, their gunships rushed back in, twin engine thrusters roaring through the air as they shot towards the enemy turrets. Five of them were destroyed in a series of blasts as the gunships fired their rockets at them, blowing them apart. The last seven sentry guns opened fire, but only managed to tear apart a few LOKI and FENRIS mechs before the gunships came back around, shredding them with their autocannons. With the enemy turret formation cleared, the UGC ground forces were cleared to continue their march on the enemy flank.

His boots continued to clang and squelch as he dashed through the sludge and watery excrement that had caked the deck from the ruptured sewrage lines, ignoring the few recognizable remnants of dead soldiers as he raised his rifle and fired at the nearest combat engineer. It took two bursts to kill the engineer: one to down his shields, the other to put him down. All around him, his battalions joined their guns with his, and together the dozen or so Cerberus engineers were mowed through, his men paying them no mind as they rushed past their bodies, barrelling towards the enemy's central fortifications around the corner.

He felt Garrus arrive beside him, thrusters ceasing as he slammed into the ground beside him, combat rolling until he was standing again, battle rifle already out and primed, a fresh clip readied in its chamber and the turian nodding to Marcus his readiness. Together, the two comrades joined the front of their colossal formation, trudging mightily forward at a rapid pace as they rushed to meet Cerberus in one, final confrontation in the Tuhi district.

But then they rounded the corner.

As they reached the other side of the promenade, Marcus quickly realized the extent of the enemy entrenchment. A wide open area stood before them, filled to the brim with barricades and sandbags, blocking access to the courtyard and the only thing standing between them and total victory.

But this open area was nowhere near empty. A two thousand strong enemy force, with hundreds of assault troopers, centurions, combat engineers, guardians, nemesi, phantoms and dragoons sat in fortified positions directly ahead of them. They looked to have been ready for their arrival, knowing full well what route the UGC would have to take and having planned accordingly. Behind their line was at least fourteen Atlas mechs, and an entire line of Ramparts. No armoured vehicles thankfully, but from the looks of it, the Cerberus regiment that was infront of them didn't really need it.

Marcus had the sense to order his men into cover before Cerberus had the chance to slaughter them in a massive crossfire. He strafed to the side, just dodging a shell from an Atlas mech, while the rest of them, and all the troops gathered there, fired their own weapons, pelting the air in a deadly maelstrom of death and lead. The rest of the UGC troops just managed to get into cover as well, not a single one falling to the onslaught. Garrus, Aria, Bray and Nyreen slammed into the wall beside him, followed by at least half the Eclipse battalion. The rest were on the other side, looking over at him, awaiting orders. Cerberus didn't stop firing, ensuring that the non-stop cacophony of their firepower would keep the UGC pinned right where they wanted them and unable to encroach on their troops any further.

"There has to be a way around this," Aria growled, flexing her fist angrily, "Some way to outflank them. Perhaps if we just charge, our numbers will be sufficient to break through their line."

Dreg was quick to dismiss that tactic in Marcus' place, "That would be foolish, Miss T'Loak. Half our forces would be butchered before they could even reach the enemy lines. And this is just one regiment. We could conquer them, but that would leave us vulnerable to the other regiment, which would make short work of us if they launched a counterattack. If we want to remain a player in this game, we must keep our forces largely intact."

"Then perhaps we can bomb them," Bray suggested, "Flank around, seize control of their artillery."

Garrus nodded, "A good plan...for a bit. The Cerberus air support would take them out without much effort. So we'd have a temporary advantage, against one regiment. Dreg's point still stands: Cerberus still has the numbers."

"I'll think of something," he stated.  _There has to be a way around. Perhaps we could use the rooftops. Or, we could go with Bray's plan and try to take out their artillery and use it for ourselves...but yet again, like Garrus said, that'd only be a temporary advantage. Fuck! There must be a-_

"Shepard!" Grunt shouted out at him. He looked up, frowning at the krogan, wandering what he wanted, "Up above! We've got incoming!"

Indeed they did. Marcus only heard it at first: a low, distant hum, getting steadily louder. Soon, it was a cacophonus screech, illustrating the sound of high powered engines propelling a vehicle out of supersonic speeds. Then, he looked up and he saw it: an SX7A Hornet bomber, shooting down into low altitude as it swerved away from the bunker, rapidly descending to the point where it would ontop of them in mere moments. It was flanked by a pair of SX3 Thunderbolts, the fighters keeping a close distance so as to shield its bomber from enemy AA. Its payload likely already readied, the Hornet did not slow its descent, continuing to rush towards them at ever increasing speed, never slowing down for one moment as it reached the correct altitude for bombing, righted itself and moved forward at a consistent level.

Marcus knew they had absolutely no chance of dispersing quickly enough to avoid what was coming. In the end, he knew all they could do was press to the wall and hope for the best: hope that most of their forces survived...if any.

But just as he opened his mouth to bark what could be his final orders, another, more familiar, engine-based scream sounded from the east. The sound was also distant, but far closer, and coming in at an even faster pace.

What came next was both alarming and took them all by surprise. One moment, the bomber was there, still racing towards them. The next moment, it was spiralling out of control as three streams of plasma slammed into its side. Its left wing was blasted off by the first burst, which had ruptured its shields to slam into it. The second shredded the bow, and the third obliterated one of its two engines at the back. Trailing smoke and leaking flames out of its rear, the bomber was helpless as it spun uselessly out of control. A fourth burst of plasma annihilated the SX3 fighter on its left, causing to collapse in on itself as its forward momentum and the sudden inertia slamming into its left caused it to spasm in mid air. It eventually just exploded, a medium-sized fireball careening back towards the ground, melted debris shooting out in every direction. The second fighter broke off, flying away from the sudden attack.

It didn't take long the object of the UGC's sudden rescue to appear. A flight of four geth fighters, accompanied by two geth interceptors, shot by after their successful kills, chasing after the second Cerberus aircraft. As this occurred, the fireball of the destroyed fighter could be heard impacting the ground behind them, caving in through the roof of a building before collapsing inside several stories. The downblast caused the entire structure to simply collapse, concrete and disturbed metal supports flowing outward as they blew apart, sliding along the ground to create a heap of wreckage.

The bomber wasn't so lucky. The pilot likely already dead (likely having died of heat stroke due to the proximity of the plasma and its intensity, or killed by smoke inhalation, as this would be the only way to explain why they hadn't ejected yet), the bomber simply continued to spin mindlessly through the air, rushing towards the ground.

Right towards the enemy regiment.

They watched, simple observers, as the Cerberus onslaught of gunfire ceased as they took note of the Hornet's downward slope, and attempted to clear the area to avoid casualties. But it was too little, too late, and the UGC troops, most noticable of which was Aria, roared with glee as the bomber crashed into an Atlas mech at high speed. The bomber seemed to cave in from the impact, exploding in a violent display of explosive power. Spread outward like a dandelion that had been blown at, the fragmented wreckage of the bomber sliced apart those unlucky enough to get too close, either bissecting troopers, delimbing or impaling them. The Atlas that was hit was thrown back into the ground, hitting another and creating a domino effect with at least four other Atlases before the others were able to move aside, ceasing the cascade. The bomber's crash damage dealt, the Cerberus regiment quickly rearranged itself to stave off the UGC taking advantage of the situation.

Unfortunately for them, it was about to get worse.

Marcus' comm crackled as the geth fighters roared by, shooting down another Cerberus SX3, while the interceptors could be heard attacking the rest of the enemy air support bombarding the bunker, "Shepard, this is General Golo...thought you could use some help, so I called Gerrel for some backup. Those enemy aircraft were becoming a real pain. I'm also sending additional reinforcements towards your location...should be arriving any second now. And by additional, I mean quite a few thousand. Enjoy."

The comm went silent, but Marcus didn't need a reply to see what the quarian meant. He felt it.

A familiar tremor rocking the deck, intensifying with every charge forward, getting closer and closer. There was simple no mistaking it. Reinforcements had truly arrived.

Rachni. Thousands of them. They swarmed around each corner, all pointed towards the enemy troops keeping them pinned. Brood warriors, soldiers and workers...thousands upon thousands of rachni descended upon the enemy like an unstoppable plague, their red chitin and close proximity making it seem like the deck was flowing like water...an angry, crimson mob with a singular purpose, and only one goal: destroy Cerberus.

Marcus didn't need to wait. As the rachni rushed past them, Marcus roared for his own troops to join them, rolling around the corner and keeping to the side as he raised his rifle and fired at the nearest target. His squad wasn't far behind, their own weapons joining the fray followed by those of the krogan, Eclipse and Blue Suns. Even the gunships up ahead joined them, renewing their assault with a sharpened purpose. With a titular goal.

Destroy. Cerberus.

While visibly dismayed by the sudden appearance of angry insects surging towards them, Cerberus, to their credit, didn't give in easily. They opened fire on the enemy's advancing lines, and Marcus watched as dozens upon dozens of rachni workers were torn apart, along with several soldiers. The enemy fire was significant, giving everything they had into annihilating the rachni army that was fast ramming its way towards their flank.

Even the enemy artillery was focusing on the new threat. No longer targetting the bunker, the SPGs, M45 Goblins to be exact, spun their guns and trained them on the general position of the UGC assault forces. Soon, high explosive shells were raining down all around them, Marcus crying out as he was thrown to the side briefly by one exploding to his right, only able to right his position at the last moment, keeping his balance as he continued to sprint forward.

Artillery shells landed everywhere. Entire ranks of rachni were decimated by the combination of direct and indirect fire, shells pounding them in all areas, desperately trying to stall the enemy's advance by annihilating them into submission. Explosive pillars of smoke and debris rose in seemingly every direction, and Marcus and his squad felt themselves constantly being thrown around by it...but they remained determined, focused and most of all, motivated. They would let him down, and he would not let them down.

_Almost there...once we close ranks, it's finished. We still have enough rachni to overpower them all._

In hindsight, it was a lost battle for the Cerberus regiment as soon as the rachni arrived. With the last of their air support driven away by the geth and a bomber having taken out a good chunk of their troops, they were left with nothing but increased firepower and what artillery pieces they possessed. Even then, the artillery only had long-range capability, and weren't equipped for short range attacks: that's what mortars were for. And sooner than they'd like, the UGC forces soon fell within that sphere, and the artillery fell silent as they could no longer fire upon the enemy.

Which just left the regiment. And in just a few seconds, ranks were closed. The rachni raced to meet the enemy troops, and their guardians rushed to meet them. In a clash of titans, the battle degenerated into hand-to-hand combat.

In reality, the guardians weren't even on the same level as the rachni. Workers quicky worked their way under their shields, behind their phalanx and began to crawl over them, distracting them long enough for their soldiers to move in and slice them up, tearing apart arms, legs and splitting heads open. Blood coughed into the air as the three lines of guardians were overwhelmed, followed by a fourth. Despite the artillery bombardment, they barely made a dent in the rachni's numbers, and thousands of them compared to pour into the collapsing right flank, slaughtering the Cerberus defenders. It was practically a meat grinder.

With the rachni ranks having thinned out on their side, Marcus danced and the rest of the troops darted around the annihilated guardian defenses and took the fight to them. He slammed the butt of his rifle into the side of a female centurion. She was knocked to the ground, and it didn't take long for Marcus to gold bars signifying the rank of Major stamped into her left chestplate. Growling, she raised her mattock and fired. The shots pinged off his shields uselessly, and he kicked it away before slashing his omni-blade across her exposed throat. Blood spat from the wound, and the regiment's commander was left to die in an evergrowing pool of her own blood.

Turning, he gunned down four assault troopers attempting to assist their commander before ducking under the baton of a swinging combat engineer, ramming his pulse rifle into the soldier's back and raking his plasma across his entire spine. The soldier spasmed from the attacks, and once finished, thudded to the ground, limp and unmoving, now nothing but a bloody cadaver.

He turned to his troops, ushering them forward, "Attack! Attack! Attack! Kill them all! Forward and don't hold anything back! Send them running back to Afterlife!"

Aria, with Bray and Dreg at her flanks, biotically charged into a dragoon before he could use his own biotics, sending him toppling to the ground. Whipping her shotgun out, she blew his head off, scattering his brains to the filthy floor. Turning, she ducked into a crouch and sent a shotgun shell straight into the leg of a phantom, blowing her leg off before she was unceremoniously ripped into bloody ribbons by Bray's assault rifle and Dreg's SMG.

He turned to see Nyreen being ganged up on by five assault troopers. Before he could move to help her however, Nyreen ducked the shock baton swing of one before shooting into his elbow from below, causing it to sickeningly crack as the round shattered bone, but also broke his arm by snapping it in the wrong direction. The trooper screamed before the comrade opposite him was thrown back by a biotic push. She shot the third in the head, followed by the fourth and fifth. She shot the first in the head as a mercy kill, and then finally the second before he could get back up.

Her gaze met his, and they both silently nodded to each other before the female turian took off once more, back arched and keeping herself beneath the enemy's fire.

_She knows how to handle herself. She is the leader of the Talons, so that does count for something._

Everywhere he looked, Cerberus was being absolutely demolished. All their guardians had been committed to their phalanx, and the last of them had now fallen, their bodies making up a long, stretched out pile that the rachni were now shooting over as they rushed to greet the rest of the enemy. Grunt's krogan were demonstrating their superiority in close quarters combat, killing any Cerberus soldier who so much as twitched, on the ground or standing. The Blue Suns and Eclipse established a picket line, working together, as well as with Palisus and Shios, to support Aralakh battalion, supplemented by their YMIRs and what few LOKIs and HELs they have left.

The gunships focused on the Atlases and Ramparts, hammering them with rockets and their chin-mounted guns. About six of the Atlases, unequipped to deal with aircraft flying so high above them, had already fallen, as had the majority of the Rampart mechs, who were defenseless against the A-61. What few Atlases were left were quickly being swarmed by the rachni, who either tore through the cockpit to tear apart the pilot, or had workers work their way into its internal circuitry to destroy it from inside. Either way, the armoured component of the enemy would seen be non-existent.

Everywhere Marcus looked, he saw nothing but inevitable UGC victory. The entire enemy regiment was being annihilated on all flanks, from above and below, close quarters and long-range. With their artillery and air support out of the equation, Marcus had no doubt they would triumph this day.

Killing six more assault troopers and pulling out his shotgun to kill a charging phantom, he spun to face Jack, who was with her students and rapidly overcoming their side of the enemy formation, slamming them with all sorts of biotic attacks. He smiled at the display, and he hit the comms, wanting to get her attention, "Jack, have you and your students refocus your support role on Grunt's men. We need to catch these guys in a pincer movement! Don't let reinforcements get anywhere near them!"

Jack spun and nodded to him, grinning all the way, "You fucking got it! Come on you little shits, we're-"

She stumbled as a Cerberus phantom decloaked infront of her, already slicing through the air with her sword. But what Marcus immediately noted about the phantom was the lack of the usual white and gold armor: instead, she wore jet black and white armor, with a black coat. Black hair tied into a ponytail at the back, eyes covered by patches and lips creased into an easily recognizable sneer that Marcus had come to despise and hate with a passion.

_Kai. Fucking. Leng._

The assassin's sword descended upon Jack, with the clear intention of decapitating her. She was quick though, stumbling back as the assassin materialized. The sword just missed her head, instead scraping across her exposed cheek. She growled as a neat line was sliced across her face, the slightest bit of blood oozing from it. Pissed off, the biotic lit up in the color of her biotic blue sheen, and waved her arm aside, bringing with it the biggest biotic bitch slap Marcus had ever seen.

Leng just wasn't fast enough, even with his cybernetics. Caught in the backhand, he was thrown aside like a ragdoll, feet leaving the ground as he was tossed several meters to land on the ground far away from the biotic. Jack ignored the stinging pain in her cheek to turn back to Marcus, nodding to him and reaffirming his orders.

But he ignored her. Leng's presence and appearance had stirred up his feelings once again, and he felt his entire body tense up as adrenaline filled him once more. He snarled, ignoring Jack's surprised frown at his animalistic behaviour as he sprinted forward, holstering his shotgun as he put all his effort into closing the distance with the assassin.

Leng was just getting to his feet, shaking his head of dizziness, turning around when Marcus speed tackled him to the ground. The assassin landed back on the ground with a grunt, Marcus' legs wrapped around his waist, pinning him. Filled with unchained rage, he wrapped his hands around the assassin's throat, holding them down and beginning to squeeze the life out of him.

He barely got more than a few seconds before Leng, with a growl that sounded more like a gasp, punched Marcus in the face. His grip loosened, Leng punched him again, causing him to let go completely. Still pinned, the assassin reached out and grabbed his ninjato, swinging down upon Marcus' head...

...only for the N7 to roll to the right, releasing his dominate posture to escape the assassin's kill blow. Coming to his feet, he descended upon the assassin as he got to his feet, delivering a swift uppercut to the chest. The assassin blocked it before elbowing him in the helmet, causing his visor to crack from the impact. Unable to see, Marcus stumbled back and removed his helmet, magnetically pinning it to his side. He rose his hands, ready to protect himself from Leng's inevitable frenzy of swings.

But they didn't come.

Looking directly at the assassin, he saw that he wasn't even in an attack posture: his sword hung lazily to his side, Leng grinning wickedly at him with unsuppressed mirth, "Shepard, we meet again. Oh, how I've looked forward to this."

He growled angrily back at the assassin, the battle raging around them, gunfire spitting in all directions, unfazing them as they focused solely on each other, the assassin walking circles around him, while the human spectre focused his attention entirely on him, countering his aimlessly walking by turning to face him, "Wherever Cerberus is, you follow. I should have known it would come to this. You're going to die, assassin."

The Cerberus lapdog just laughed, turning away from him while spinning his sword in his hand fancifully, impressed by his own antics, "Here? I think not. I would have thought you would had picked out a more suitable location than this to battle me in. What about...Kahje? I know that's where frog boy was born...where all his kind come from. Maybe you can stab me through the chest like I killed him? Tell me, how did he die? I hope it was painful."

He smiled bitterly at that, "Oh, you died in peace, surrounded by his friends."

"A pity," the assassin sighed regretfully, shrugging as he came to a stop near an opening in the battle proper, where no active forces were present, only an area littered with the dead bodies of Cerberus and rachni, "Those who serve you deserve nothing but a painful death. Aliens and filth, sycophants and parasites. And they will all suffer a slow, gruelling end to their pathetic lives. I killed your bitch's aunt's mate, or whatever the fuck those suit-rats call their significant other...and I killed your little frog boy...and what an assassin he was. Couldn't best me, when the time came, could he?"

Marcus snarled, which only caused the assassin to grin even wider, "He was a better assassin than you ever will be. In his words, you were stopped by a terminally ill drell from assassinating your target...said you should be embarassed. And at least Thane died for a cause...you're just a rabid dog. An animal, and one full of nothing but hate. I don't enjoy death, Leng...but I am going to thrive on yours, you fucking pig."

"Well then. All this talk and no play," he suddenly spun to the left, sword slicing up and through the head of a charging rachni soldier, bissecting his face and spinning out of the way quick enough to allow its momentum to carry the rachni's body sliding across the ground, green, acid-like blood, pouring out onto the deck. Grinning at his handiwork, he turned and sprinted away, heading for a nearby building.

Livid and unable to acknowledge anything other than his current bloodlust, Marcus gave chase, unholstering his pistol as he fired off a few shots in the assassin's direction, hoping to slow him down. Leng's kinetic barriers simply shrugged off the attacks, forcing the N7 to increase his pace as he barrelled after him at full sprint.

A few seconds passed as they ran, Marcus watching as Leng disappeared around the corner.  _Coward. Always running! Face me, you piece of shit! Face me like a fucking man!_

Marcus quickly rounded the corner himself, turning in time to see the assassin standing there, seemingly waiting for him. Seeing him, and with that stupid smirk still on his face, he dashed inside the building. Wasting no more time, Marcus ran after him, quickly arriving at the door Leng had rushed through. He arrived quick enough for the door to still open and, having regained enough of his senses to approach with caution, took aim with his pistol and quickly moved inside, feeling the door close behind him afterwards, well timed and green interface blinking back into existence.

Leng was waiting for him. The room he was in was largely empty, completely non-descript aside from the worn, leather couch shoved into the left corner, and the desk tucked away in the right corner, a vidscreen resting ontop of it but caked in dust, as if it was inactive for all this time. Two windows lined the wall, allowing a clear view of the promenade, however tinted. Omega's artificial, filtered light streamed in through them, illuminating the dust particles that had gathered in the air. A flight of stairs was directly infront of him leading up to the second floor, while the only light in the room was in the middle of the ceiling, glowing just brightly enough that Marcus didn't need night vision or a flashlight to see.

As for the assassin, he waited in the corner opposite the couch and the desk: at the very back. His back was towards the wall, his attention all focused entirely on Marcus. His sword was, to his surprise, sheathed on his back, the assassin's hands hanging limply at his side as he stared Marcus down.

The N7 moved into the building proper, his pistol aimed directly over Leng's head. The movement pretty much prompted Leng to draw his sword, or at least somekind of weapon, but the assassin just stood there, silent and staring back at him.

All with that damn smile.

"What the  _fuck_  are you  _so_  happy about?" the N7 demanded, hand on the grip of his weapon tightening, "I knew you were eager to kill me, but I didn't know you were  _this_  euphoric about it."

"Oh...you'll see," the assassin stated. Moments later, the door audibly opened behind them again, Marcus' assuming it was his squad following him. Instead, the assassin looked over his shoulder and, still not moving, turned back to Marcus,  _still_ grinning, "Here we are. Our guest of honor."

Pistol still trained on Leng with his left hand, he whipped out his omni-tool, primed his omni-bow on his right hand, and spun to face the new threat.

Only to find Randall Ezno staring back at him, weapons and holstered and weapons at his side. He stopped moving at the apex of the room, last whispers of an omni-tool being used disappearing as it deactivated, the haptic interface on the door turned green to red. It was only then that the situation dawned on Marcus as Randall spoke, nowhere near a mirror of Leng's childish grin as he stood there stoically and almost reluctantly, "Captain Shepard, we meet again, although only for the second time...I try not to make a habit of running."

Leng didn't like that comment, "Shut the fuck up and let's get this done, Ezno. He's alone. He's got no help: I made sure of it. Didn't take much of anything to lure him over here."

Marcus reache his right hand to activate his comms, but Randall saw the movement and shook his head, "Don't bother. I have an engineer outside who's actively blocking your communications. You can't call for help, and none of your men know where you are or what you're doing: the chaos of battle can leave much to be discovered."

In acknowledgement of the manhunter's words, he returned his right arm to its original pose, clearing his throat.  _This was a trap. For once, Leng wasn't running away...he was luring me into the beast's jaw. The smile, the taunting about Thane...they've been here this whole time, setting me up...I'm all alone, with noone to come to my help. Not even Tali knows where I am..._

"You know I'm not going to surrender," he stated firmly, turning to glare down at Leng for a second before turning back to Randall, "Don't even ask for it. I won't die quietly either."

Randall nodded, "I know, and I expect no less from the Savior of the Galaxy. But nonetheless, you will die," he reached down and unsheathed his knife, the sound accompanied by a similar one from Leng's side of the room, "There's two of us, one of you. Equal amounts of skill and cybernetics, but with two against one. I'm sorry captain, but you will not be walking away from this."

"No, I won't," Marcus stated mournfully, coming to accept his plight.  _But I will take both of you with me_ , "But if I leave this room as a corpse, so will the both of you. Leng, and you Ezno. And even if I don't kill you...you can be damn well sure my wife will chase you to the ends of the galaxy just to put a bullet in your heads. Either way, you're both fucking dead."

"Don't worry, she's next," Leng snapped, "Now, Randall!"

Marcus didn't wait for them to move. Without turning to look at Leng, he pulled the trigger on his pistol, simultaneously firing off a bolt from his omni-bow. He then turned and rushed towards the stumbled Randall, hoping his three pistol shots will have kept Leng busy enough for him to deal with Randall, get behind him, and then face them on equal footing.

He encountered no such luck.

Randall, while taken aback by the blast, was quick to recover. Standing up, he strafed to the side, out of the way of Marcus' charge. The N7 ceased his momentum and turned, trying to pistol whip the manhunter to no avail. Randall blocked the strike, before using his other hand to punch Marcus in the fist. Pain flaring up his hand, he reflexively let go of the pistol, hearing it clatter to the floor. Marcus summoned his biotics in an attempt to fight him off, only for Randall to raise his other hand, and press something on his omni-tool. Marcus knew what was coming, managing to dart back from Randall as agony overcame his mind, the splitting headache making it feel like his skull would burst. The biotic inhibitor did its job just like on Rannoch, and he soon found himself unable to use the powers that had become the signature ability of a vanguard.

Blinded by pain, Marcus didn't recover soon enough. He grunted as he was struck in the face by Randall, followed by a kick to the chest by a black armoured leg belonging to Leng. He blocked a second kick, turning to face Leng, only for Randall to knee him in the nose. He flew back, slamming into the wall, before collapsing to one knee, helmet losing its magnetic grip on his armor and collapsing to the floor with a clang, rolling away.

His nose broken and migraine overcoming his senses, Marcus raised his omni-bow defensively, looking up to aim so that Randall and Leng couldn't take advantage of his current state. He strongly considered priming one of his grenades and going kamikaze, but he wanted to put up more of a fight first. He could unholster his rifle or shotgun, but he wouldn't be able to do it quick enough without them taking away that too. Out of options, and surrounded by enemies, he found himself looking at the end.

_I'm sorry Tali._

Cracking his neck and fists, Randall looked down at him sorrowfully, "It didn't have to come to this, captain, but you made it so. In the end, you were nothing but an instrument of Cerberus, one that has outlived its use. Now...we shall finish what I started on Rannoch."

_**A/N:** _

_**Yes, I'm totally leaving it there. Yes, I won't be updating for a bit after this due to a fever, a bunch of assessments and catching up on some video games. Yes, I'm totally an asshole. Yes, I bet it works.** _

_**In other news, I hope you enjoyed the chapter despite its ridiculous length, and I have no doubt this ending left you scratching your heads and wondering "does ArchReaperN7 truly value his life?" The short answer is yes. The long answer is "I do, but spicing said life up with some death defying fanfiction chapters is a definite way to get there."** _

_**Anyway,** _

_**Until next time,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	70. Team Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard finds himself isolated and alone as he faces off against Leng and Randall. The tide turns against the Cerberus offensive.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE:**

**TEAM OMEGA**

_August 6, 2186_

_0823 hours._

_Room A1, Building Block L, Eastern Esplanade, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Randall Ezno, Agent Kai Leng._

If somone could get into a situation that was utterly, completely, royally and totally fucked beyond repair, one where the only hope of escape was pure luck, where the only remedy was to hope they could work their way out of it, where the only possible outcome was hopefully a quick, but honourable, death...

It all boiled down to just that. Hope. Something he was in frighteningly short supply at that moment.

He reworked the events that had lead up to this moment...he retraced every step, looking for the exact time it all went wrong. That it clicked in his head that he wanted to drop everything and kill Leng, damn the consequences. It wasn't hard to find that exact point in time, before it hadn't been too long ago. Leng took a swipe at Jack, Marcus charged and fought him, and then was stupid enough to let his anger overcome him enough to actually chase the assassin.

_Stupid. So fucking stupid._

In reality, nobody was at fault but him for this potentially lethal tactical error. He hadn't thought it through, hadn't even bothered to view all the options...no doubt if he had just applied enough firepower to the assassin's back he would have been able to gun down the former N7, allowing him to deal with Randall individually. He would still be on the battlefield, leading his troops to victory, his squad surrounding him and at his side.

But now he was all alone. And literally surrounded by enemies, with no allies.

It was a derailed freight train of fuckups. He had unwittingly fallen into the Cerberus trap, and now both assassin and manhunter had their public enemy number one cornered and unable to cry for help. It was just him against two similarly augmented, skilled individuals. Of course, that didn't mean Marcus was going to just bend over and die. Far from it. He was going to make them fight for every blow, for every drop of blood, for every second that death approached.

He grunted as he raised his right arm, just narrowly knocking aside a strike from Randall meant for his face. At the same time, he lashed out with his left, only for Leng to dart back, avoiding the attack. Luckily, the attack hadn't meant to maim, only to create distance. Turning back to Randall, he applied whatever force he could to his right arm, using it to shove Randall aside. With distance now between them, Marcus stood up from the crouched position he was in, spinning back around, fists raised, as he stood in a battle stance. He inhaled a deep breath, before exhaling it, eyes darting back and forth in repetitive motions to make sure neither of them got the jump on him.

The headache he was suffering was intense. With Randall's biotic inhibitor still doing its work, the L3 biotic implant in his brain was unable to stimulate the element zero in his system enough to allow him to summon his biotic abilities: without them, and without his weapons, he was forced to do it the old fashioned way: bloody feet and bruised knuckles. The headache caused by the inhibitor no longer had the crippling affect it had on him back on Rannoch, as Marcus had time with EDI and Moses to condition himself against it. So while he was unable to escape the headache, bordering on migraine, that resulted from the inhibitor's use, he could at least focus past it to survive his predicament.

They had been battling for several minutes now, and Marcus felt his shoulders heaving with the effort. With normal troopers, he'd have no effort dispatching them with ease: after all, he was an N7, and special forces operators were the most lethal when it came to hand-to-hand. Unfortunately, so was Leng, and Randall's cybernetics only enhanced his already competent aikido martial knowledge. Still, it was a miracle he had survived this long, trading them blow for blow, never taking his eye off either of them, although they were making that increasingly difficult with each successful blow.

In the minutes that passed, they had lost more and more. Leng had used somekind of overload program on his wrist to render Marcus' omni-tool inactive, and Randall had torn weapons off the N7's back as they fought, leaving his pulse rifle, SMG, pistol and shotgun scattered across the dusty floor. Even his helmet was now tossed uselessly on the ground, torn away from him during their scuffle, although Marcus made sure to tear off Randall's too to make it even.

Numerous cuts aligned Marcus' face: one across the cheek, across the forehead, one that narrowly missed his left eyeball and scrapped across the eyebrow instead, one that sliced his upper lip open, and a particularly close one across the scalp. Each one had bled, and each one had left its mark: some of it had crusted, some if it still oozed out and others were still glistening, some of it running down his face as it mixed in with his sweat. He blinked as some of it got into his eye, but he made sure to deal with it as quickly as possible.

Randall and Leng had their fair share too. Marcus had actually delivered one hell of a haymaker to Leng's jaw, knocking some of his teeth out in the process. It was one Marcus had taken great pleasure in, although the manhunter had made sure he didn't get to celebrate the strike for very long. Earlier in the fight, Marcus had strafed aside from a sword lunge, instead hitting Randall. The manhunter strafed as well, but not before it struck him in the side. It had pierced skin, but not deep enough to severely wound the soldier, and he was back up in a flash, quickly applying medi-gel to the wound before leaping back to the one-sided battle.

And so here they were: each in an arrow like formation that entirely dissimilar to a Mexican stand off.

Randall silently appraised the N7 to his right, his own hands raised upwards to protect his face, sweat coating his own face. Leng twirled ninjato in his hands, showing off as blood flicked through the air, slapping Marcus in the face. He briefly flinched from it, but the movement was enough for Leng to chuckle, before holding the sword firmly, grin tightening as he sighed happily, sniffing. He coughed, before leaning down and making a loud, wet coughing sound, spitting a large glob of mucus and blood onto the floor. He sighed, sounding like a man struck with a cold rather than someone who had a few molars knocked out, the assassin wiping his lips off-handedly as he turned back to Marcus, shaking his head.

There was silence for a few seconds. The only sounds they could hear was the occassional bout of gunfire and shouts outside, coupled with the report of an artillery piece, the screech of a passing fighter or explosion. Marcus took note of the distinct and deteriorating presence of electronic shouting amongst those sounds, and he turned to the both of them, shrugging almost innocently, "Sounds a whole lot like losing out there. My men will be clearing up yours shortly."

Randall made no sound, but Leng was quick to rise to Marcus' bait, raising his sword and pointing it lazily at the captain, "That won't matter once we string up your corpse at the top of his building for all to see. Then we will see who has lost."

He narrowed his eyes at Leng, glaring him down, "Or maybe I'll be the one who strings yours up there. You never know."

Leng looked set to respond when Randall finally spoke up, "Threats exchanged with a soon-to-be ghost are as pointless as they are a waste of breath. Silence yourself Leng and entertain Shepard no more."

The assassin briefly turned to the manhunter in protest. Before he could though, he cut himself off, closing his mouth as his head drifted back to looking at Marcus. He lowered his sword as he did this, readying it for combat, "You are right. Dead men tell no tales."

"I was just thinking the same thing," he snapped back, giving as good as he got in their game of threats, "You know, this reminds me of a battle I had with a badass special forces officer a few years back."

The assassin frowned, confused, "Flattery will not save you."

 _Hook, line and sinker. Two can play the taunt game._ He chuckled, "You? I said a  _badass_. Not some assassin whining like some quarian with a tummy ache. No, if anything, you remind me of a vorcha: all meat and no brain."

Leng snarled, gritting his teeth angrily as he tensed up, "I've had enough of this. Let's kill this fucking prick so I can piss on his corpse already."

He turned to the assassin one final time, knowing what was coming next and tensing himself up in preparation. But he just had to get one last jab in, "Once again, Leng," he made sure he had the biggest shiteating grin imaginable, not wanting the assassin to miss one bit, "Just what I was thinking. Tell me, would you like human or alien piss?"

He had not seen Randall slowly moving to the right until he made his move. Marcus twisted his head just as his fist swung towards him, luckily swiping through air. Head ducked, he had a perfect view of the manhunter's abdomen for a split second, sending an uppercut slamming into his chest. Ezno seemed to shrug that off, because although he was winded by it, he quickly recovered, usually his other hand to crack Marcus across the face. The N7 spun back from the blow, vision blurring for a moment, before he regained composure, twisted and turned to face a rapidly descending, feral Leng.

Using the limited range that his sword offered him, Leng poked the ninjato forward, extending it outwards as it tried to kiss human skin. Marcus knocked it to the side with one armoured arm, realizing in that instant that it had been a faint. Twisting with his sword's deflection, the assassin spun around, both hands gripping the blade handle tightly, as he aimed directly for Marcus' now exposed neck.

Not knowing how else to stop this sudden movement, his left hand snapped up and clasped around the blade, grasping it firmly to the point where Leng, despite putting all his strength into it, was unable to make the sword move any further. Taking the assassin's imbalance to his advantage, he yanked the sword towards him, hoping to get him close enough for a headbutt. Leng learned quick though, and he quickly surrendered his sword, releasing the hilt the moment Marcus began yanking, and raised his palm, energy brimming within the cannon there.

He had mere seconds to duck out of the way. He reared his head back, doing so just as he felt, and saw, a sizzling bolt of white hot energy blaze past his face. The bolt had been close enough for him to feel the heat: it felt like the steam of boiling water slamming into his face, multiplied by 10. It was close enough to be blinding for a moment, rendering him unable to see for that fleeting point in time. It singed the hairs on his regulation beard, and made him wince from the sheer intensity of it.

It all lasted a second. The bolt shot by, missing by inches, crackling as it slammed into the wall behind them harmlessly.

As Marcus regained his balance, he felt a foot connect with his belly, roughly and with heavy constitution. He felt himself immediately knocked back, winded by the blow and stumbling. He darted his left foot out, causing him to stop and stabilizing his body before it lost balance. Breathing harshly to gain what breath he lost, he looked up to see Randall raising his other leg to deliver a kick to his face.

Lightning fast, he raised both of his arms and locked them tightly into an x-like shape infront of him, protecting his face, but also allowing him to catch Randall's foot as it connected with the two arms. Once there, he condensed his arms inwards, locking the man's foot in place momentarily, and leaving him impotent. With the two hands at the top, he wrapped them under the man's shin and as he stood up, pulled the two arms upwards quickly and with little effort.

Randall saw what was coming and planned accordingly, as had Leng. His leg swept off the ground, he brought his other leg up to join it before rolling himself in mid air, twisting his entire torso to compensate. He landed on his front with a loud grunt, arms positioned infront of him to protect his own face from ricocheting off the floor. And while Marcus was focused on him, Leng was free to renew his attack.

The spectre made little sound as he felt Leng slam a foot into the back of his left leg, causing him to fall forwards. He landed on one knee, but couldn't turn around quick enough before Leng punched him in the face, followed by another. Both strikes came so quickly that Marcus had been helpless to respond, and he felt dizzied by the blows, before his cybernetics quickly recovered. Before he could counterattack however, he quickly felt one of Leng's arms wrap around his neck from behind, roughly pulling him up as he did so. Marcus, now standing on his feet, could do nothing as the assassin tightened his headlock, other hand grabbing Marcus' short hair on his scalp tightly to ensure he couldn't headbutt him. Unable to see Leng's face, Marcus could only assume he was smiling at his apparent conquest.

The Cerberus servant's headlock was just tight enough to ensure even the N7 couldn't escape, while also allowing Marcus to breathe sufficiently. He knew why the assassin was doing this even before Randall came to his feet, dusted himself off and began to rapidly approach the retrained commando, his face carrying a distinct lack of self-congratulatory demeanour that Leng was brimming with.

He heard a pistol being unholstered, and he looked down to see the approaching manhunter pulling out his modified Phalanx pistol, its polished surface gleaming in the dim light of the room. Silence once again befell the room as their skirmish ended, the sounds of the battlefield nearby beginning to mute themselves as their volume cascaded away, the battle taken elsewhere.

_I hope Tali's alright. I hope everybody's kicking their asses back to Afterlife. And I hope Petrovsky can see it all._

In the instant that he had to live, he quickly ran through his options. Headbutting Leng was out of the question, as the assassin had his head held firmly and didn't look set to budge anytime soon. Kicking Randall was useless, as the operative would see it coming and simply deflect it. He couldn't use his biotics because of the inhibitor, and his omni-tool was inactive, so he couldn't use his omni-blade or omni-shield. So in the end, he knew he only really had one option. He knew what caliber rounds the Phalanx used, and where exactly on his body had the lowest point of penetration resistance.

_Going to have to John McClane this one...fuck, this is going to hurt..._

Randall raised his weapon, taking aim directly at Marcus' forehead. He felt the cold barrel of the weapon press itself against the naked skin of his temple, the feel of it not an unfamiliar feeling for somebody of the Spectre's profession. Randall didn't say a word, but he did begin to tighten the trigger.

"Wait," Marcus croaked, doing his best to look the part of somebody who was battered and broken. Slackening his body and letting his eyes droop, he gulped, "The heart. Aim for the heart. If you're going to kill me, shoot me there. I don't want my pretty face ruined for the funeral."  _You're a real joker, you know that Marcus? Fucking hilarious._

Randall seemed to regard him for a moment, frowning at the man who was seconds away from death. It was the look of somebody was just honestly befuddled at this soldier who the galaxy held in high esteem: a man who, in the face of death, was more worried about dying pretty than he was actually living. His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge the angle he was playing. For a moment, Marcus didn't think the manhunter would fall for it: his finger never loosened, his composure remained static...

_Shit. Well, it was worth a-_

But whether through sheer dumb luck, or unbelievable miracle, Randall actually fullfilled his request: the pistol was lowered away from his head, now pressing into the unfeeling, metal exterior of his battle armor, right where the heart was located. Randall looked at Marcus, shaking his head, "You fought well Shepard, but now your time is up."

"Sure is," and without so much as telegraphing his intention, and watching Randall's finger tighten, he snapped up his right arm, hand grabbing the pistol by the handle. Roughly pulling it up so it was level with his shoulder, Marcus didn't wait for either Leng or Randall to react: he just did.

Finger joining the manhunter's on the weapon's trigger, he pulled down hard.

He cried out as it felt like he had been slammed in the shoulder blade with a mallet: except this mallet also tore through said shoulder, slicing through flesh, before erupting out the other side, ignoring his armor, and smashing through bone. He fell to one knee again as his left shoulder flared up with pain, finding himself unable to even move that arm anymore: he could, but it only brought him immense agony. Luckily, his plan had worked: the Phalanx round had penetrated his shoulder, where the flesh was weakest, allowing it to continue with enough momentum to leave through his back, and hit Leng in his own shoulder.

Taken by surprise, the assassin released his headlock immediately as the round meant to kill Marcus bit into his shoulder, this time not having enough momentum to penetrate all the way through and stopping in Leng's shoulder blade. He stumbled back, hissing angrily as his own left arm became unusable, hand dropping his sword as he cradled the maimed appendage.

Marcus ignored the discomfort his crippled left arm gave him as he leapt back up, transporting a swift uppercut to the bottom of Randall's jaw. The manhunter stepped back, but not before Marcus' fist clipped the side of his chin, causing him to stumble back even further anyway. With Leng still temporarily out of the fight, the N7 pressed his offensive, next bringing up his right leg in a crescent kick. The sweeping maneveur connected with the man's equipped right arm, swatting it aside and causing him to let go of the phalanx in the process, which slid away from them, sliding under the desk in the corner with the vidscreen on it.

Blood was beginning to exude from his shoulder now, dripping down the side of his armor and dripping onto the deck. The color mixed in well with the crimson paint of his Terminus Assault battle arrangement, but made its presence well known on the floor. Leng was likely no different.

Hearing the sound of a sword being picked up behind him, Marcus rotated right side first, bringing up his elbow to form an L-shaped block. His sweeping 'shield-like' block allowed him to swat aside the lunging blade, which had been so close to impaling him in the back. Having wielded it with his right hand, due to the left hanging uselessly at his side, the assassin was caught off balance, allowing Marcus to deliver a powerful kick to the abdomen. He keeled over from it, Leng's breath blown out in a loud wave before the N7 once again pressed the attack, giving him no room to defend himself any further.

_I will end you, right here, right now!_

But Leng was ready. In a surprising bout of bravado and possibly stupidity, the assassin countered the man's offensive by actually lunging forward to meet it mid stride, right fist springing forwards to connect, very deliberately, into the open bullet wound that had disabled Marcus' left shoulder. The human commando cried out as the strike caused the wound to hurt a hundred times worse, leading him to founder back. Not one to let go of a moment, Kai Leng howled furiously as he sent his head spiralling forward to meet that of the captain's like a torpedo.

It connected, and Marcus was left even more disoriented as the pain of his provoked arm and the bruised torment of two, thick skulls colliding caused him to lose all sense of reality at once. He was therefore defenseless as he felt the assassin snake one arm around his right arm, grabbing a firm hold of his waist. The N7, by the time he finally gained his bearings, didn't figure out what he was doing until he was already airborne.

Leng had wrapped his arm around the back of Marcus' body, grabbing hold of the back of his waist before physically lifting him up off the floor. Twisting his body, he then swung the man up into the air like a Baseball pitcher. The man's cybernetic strength meant Marcus was accelerated threw the air just like a baseball, his back slamming into the vidscreen a few meters away. He grunted as he felt the impact on his back, the screen of the TV cracking in large shards, but not breaking. It also fell back onto the desk, while Marcus fell into the desk, his enormous waste causing the wooden surface to splinter and break, caving inwards as the human thudded to the floor, dust sent flying in large plumes from his microbic atomic impact.

He coughed as some of it got up into his mouth and nose, the feeling making his throat instantly itch and causing him to sputter. With Leng advancing, Marcus pushed him up, shoving aside the pieces of broken wood that had collected ontop of him from the crushed desk. The disturbance caused the vidscreen to fall behind the desk entirely, glass screen completely shattering out of sight. It was then he remembered where Randall's pistol had fallen.

Turning from sluggish to as quick as thunder, he shot his maimed hand under the desk, ignoring the pleading of his mind to stop abusing his body as he felt around for the white-emblazoned handgun. Finding it, his fingers clenched around it, and he pulled his arm out. He spun, rolling onto his belly, and took aim with the pistol.

His aim was pretty piss poor with the maimed hand, and as such it was unsteady, unreliable and dodgy. His first shot went wide, slamming into a poster hanging on the hall, the shot tearing through it and burying itself in the wall, the bullet caved inwards from the impact. This was enough to give Leng pause however, as he realized the man was now armed. Marcus' second shot was closer, whizzing past Leng's face by mere inches, but it was enough to finally force the assassin to cease his advance. He rolled to his immediate right as a third shot almost connected with his other shoulder, instead slicing through the now empty air and impacting the couch behind him, fluff shooting into the air from the aggressive bullet.

His left hand did its best to track Leng as he fled Marcus' ranged onslaught, rolling down to grab his blade before sheathing it and engaging his cloak. Four more bullets rang through the room, impacting nothing but walls, Marcus having to slam a thermal clip into it midway. A fifth actually managed to strike Leng while he was cloaked: whether through pure fortune or the fact Marcus could see the distortion made by a cloak, he couldn't tell, but it was enough that he could justify pouring the last two shots of his clip into that general area. Both missed however, meaning Leng had shifted position, and they once again hit nothing but walls.

Reaching to his waist, he grabbed a second thermal clip, reaching forward to place it i-

A boot landed abruptly and forcefully on the wrist of the hand gripping the pistol, causing Marcus to cry out from the sudden impact. He immediately recognized the foot as belonging to Randall, who began pressing it deeper and more forcefully, eventually forcing Marcus to drop the phalanx altogether. The weapon clattered to the ground, but not before Marcus dropped his fresh clip to the floor, grabbed the side of the weapon and ejected the spent clip.

With a hiss, the clip flew through the air and landed on the floor, still white hot with the heat dumped into it. Wasting no time, Marcus wrapped his hand around it, feeling the intense heat feed through his armoured gauntlet, before flicking it upwards.

Randall had watched the whole thing. He stepped back, foot releasing Marcus' left wrist, allowing him to roll away from the manhunter as he strafed to avoid the hot bundle of energy racing up towards his face. Rolling until he was on his back, he shot back up, turning to reach down and grab a plank of splintered wood from the ground, brandishing it as a weapon.

_This'll do._

Hearing a crackle behind him, Marcus snapped around, swinging the plank as he did. He saw Leng for a grand total of one second before the wood slammed into his face, causing his head to snap back. More of the wood snapped away from the blunt force whack, which bit at the sides of Leng's face, cutting him. The assassin, despite his strength, was knocked to the ground from the power of it, hitting the floor with a thud. With Kai Leng indisposed, Marcus quickly swung back around, still holding the wood fragment, ready to deal with Randall.

Just as he did with Leng, he brought the wood swinging downwards, only for it to smash onto his raised, blocking left arm. The wood broke apart from the force, snapping in half and the upper half clattering to the floor, while Marcus was left holding a much smaller, useless lower piece. He only had time to drop it before Randall snapped up his right hand, grasping the N7 around the throat. His fingers tightened considerably, allowing him to lift Marcus roughly off the deck and into the air.

He didn't fail to notice the burn mark marred Randall's left cheek. It was the distinct shape of a thermal clip, rectangular in shape and diagonally positioned, but Randall didn't look like he actually cared about it, his eyes focused solely on the man infront of him as he tried to squeeze the life from him, fingers digging into his skin pointedly and Marcus feeling his throat beginning to contract, cutting off his air supply.

That was not the manhunter's plan however. Turning around, he slammed Marcus into the wall behind him, still grasping him firmly by the neck. This gave Marcus enough time to raise his right arm and strike the man across the head with his elbow, forcing him to let go. With his neck now released, Marcus let loose with a flurry of blows to the man's abdomen and face, while Randall did his best to deflect what few blows he could. With bruises appearing across the soldier's face, the N7 grabbed Randall by the armor and spun him around, slamming into the same section of wall he had occupied seconds before.

Letting go, he reared one hand back, readying himself to deliver one final, brutal punch. Barrelling it forth, he sighed angrily as Randall ducked to the side at the last minute, his armoured fist ramming the wall violently. The resulting collision left a large dent in the wall, bending back and warping the metal at least an inch inwards. Not missing a beat, Randall then proceeded to wrap his arm around the outstretched arm, pinning it beneath his arm. With his good arm pinned, Randall proceeded to strike Marcus' maimed shoulder, once again causing him to wince, but not affecting him as badly as it had when Leng did it. This was all the Cerberus commander needed though, flattening out his hand and sending the tips of his fingers flying into his throat.

Marcus felt his oesophagus stiffen in response, tightening up as the rapidity of the jab left him completely breathless and dry heaving for air. Stricken by this, he could do nothing as Randall then took his pinned arm, reared his elbow, and then proceeded to ram it into the back of his arm. Marcus gritted his teeth and screamed internally as the bone in that arm snapped, cracking loudly as his right arm, the only reliable arm he had left to fight with, was rendered completely useless. It was then that the Cerberus operative let go of him, allowing the captain to fall to his knees, as he cradled his broken arm, sharp, stinging agony filling his entire mind as he felt his vision begin to blur, body wanting to pass out from the intensity.

Crouching infront of him, Randall looked at the spectre with a sort of sad disapproval, only for Marcus suddenly slam his forehead into his, bruising the manhunter's scalp, and causing his head to snap back briefly, although not out of shock. Recovering fairly quickly, he turned back, ignoring the reddening bump on his head as he cracked his neck, "You've fought well, captain. But with a broken arm and and the other one useless, you are exactly where we want you: defeated."

Overcome with agony and discomfort, Marcus was barely able to think, let alone formulate a response to the manhunter's ultimatum. He still managed to do it however, turning up to him with a smile, sighing, "Yeah...but at least I beat the shit out of both of you. No one will say Captain Shepard died like a Kai Leng."

He heard shifting on the ground behind him: Kai Leng was steadily recovering himself, standing up as he picked up his sword. Something he was about to do must have annoyed Randall, as the manhunter looked up, holding up a single hand to signal him to stop whatever it was he was about to do, "No, Leng. We do this cleanly and we do this my way. A quick and clean kill."

"What!?" this audibly enraged the assassin, "You said-"

He shot up, coming to stand as he waved the assassin off, "Would you have agreed to the plan if I had told you the outcome? Besides, what does it matter? The man will die. You will have your pitiful vengeance, and Cerberus will be rid of its number one enemy. His army is entirely unaware of his predicament. We'll finish him off, string his corpse up for all to see, and return to HQ. With their morale crippled, we'll mount one final attack to finish them off. Omega will be ours, Shepard will be dead and our cause will remain everlasting."

"Fuck you," Leng spat, walking around until he was in Marcus' view, arriving at Randall's side. Numerous cuts now adorned his face, each bleeding but only slightly. He reached up and picked a wood splinter out of one particular cut, wincing at the slight sting. Dropping it to the ground, he slammed his sword into the floor, impaling it there before darting to his knees, one hand grabbing Marcus' hair roughly and pulling it back forcefully, face moving close enough to his that he could smell his breath, and almost feel his eyes appraising him. The assassin grinned, chuckling. His breath blew across his face, Marcus wincing from the intense, garlic-like smell, "I've waited months for this. To see you on our knees where you belong. Broken, battered, defenseless. I told you this day would come, Shepard."

Marcus just looked back with utter contempt, "That's just how you like 'em, isn't it, Leng? Broken, battered, defenseless? It took real soldiers to put a stop to you. And even then, you just stabbed them in the back. You don't work in the shadows, you're a bitch of the shadows. Besides, it was Randall who defeated me... _not you_. How's that feel?"

Enraged by this comment, the assassin pulled back, still holding him by the head, and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. Blood spurted across the ground, the captain laughing as he spat a larger, thicker blob after it. Looking back up, he just continued to smile back at Leng, who had let go of his hair to stand up, backing away, reaching for his sword in the process, "I barely felt that one. You punch like a fairy, Leng. You sure you have cybernetics?"

His hand snapped up his sword, ripping it out of the floor with loud, piercing tear. His breaths came out ragged and animalistic, sounding more like an incensed rhino than an angered human being. Randall noticed this, but also noted the assassin hadn't moved to attack, nodding as he turned back to Marcus, crouching once more so they were eye level, licking his lips with calm agency, entirely unperplexed by the situation, "You understand what happens next. What must be done. I ask this, because despite our differences, I respect you. Every man must learn to respect his enemy to truly defeat him. It's a lesson my colleague has yet to comprehend, but nonetheless, you have my respect. Alas, respect is not friendship, and you are my enemy. Again, I say this because I do what I do to protect humanity."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, blood beginning to leak from his broken nose and into his mouth, the N7 disgustingly spitting it out onto the ground, the trickle below his nose becoming an intolerable itch, "It isn't personal. I get it. Just know that I never bought that 'protecting humanity' bullshit. Cerberus is like any other pro-racial segregation group of human history...it isn't about the agenda, it's about a standard power trip. So don't insult my intelligence. You're all indoctrinated. Fuck Cerberus, and fuck you," he looked up at Leng, sparing him one last sneer, "And an extra 'fuck you' to you. I hope my wife hangs your head in our cabin as a trophy, you piece of shit," he narrowed his eyes, "Remember I said that. The day will come where you will scream, Leng. And the very aliens you despise will be your demise."

Randall nodded reluctantly, looking saddened: almost as if he had found out a role model of his turned out to be a scumbag, "That's one aspect of you that I failed to understand for a while, Shepard: your idiocy. I thought about it after our encounter on Rannoch. I really thought about it. In the end, I think I've come to understand," he craned his head, sadness turning to disappointment, "You're no hero. You're not even a legend. Your squad made you what you are. Without them, you're just another N7: a big deal by itself, but not worthy of legend. Your wife's strength, Vakarian's brotherhood, T'Soni's network, your Alenko's conservative nature...the list goes on. Today, we proved that. Take away your squad, and what's left is a simple special forces operative...not much else."

A few moments passed, and a slight smile picked at the corner of Marcus' lips, "Congratulations, Randall Ezno. You've figured out something I've known for a while. You think I believe I'm some hero? Do you think I masturbate to news articles about my heroism and courage? I fucking hate it. I've had Jews call me the Messiah. I've had people call me the second coming of Jesus fucking Christ. Athame's guardian, Talos' vanguard, Avatar of the Ancestors...and that's just the deities. I've been called a slayer of Gods, the Bane of Reapers, the Slayer of Geth, Destroyer of Collectors...hell, even the simple fact I married a quarian and not an asari has been praised to high heaven...like I'm some kind of saint. And did I mention the krogan used my name as an entirely new word in their language? I don't want any of it, and I never have. I do my job, nothing more. I'm no Messiah. I'm not Jesus. I don't slay Gods, and I certainly can't credit myself as destroying anything single-handedly. My team made all that possible: I just formed them and forced them to work together. So tell me, Ezno...if my squad is truly what makes me great," he leaned forward, his voice a whisper, "Then you'd better be ready when they come for you. Killing me will only make me a martyr. So go on, unleash timmy's little guard dog on me. I'm sure he just thirsts for my blood. Practically a vampire."

Randall was silent, gulping as he regarded the man before him. Finally, he gave a final exhale, slapping his knees as he pulled himself up, "No...you're not a God. You're a mere man. And men can die. I hate to waste four billion credits worth of Cerberus scientific resource expenditure, but in the end, you brought this one on yourself. Cerberus remembers those who turn their backs on it, and once we're done with you, we'll be paying Miss Lawson a visit."

"Say hello to Harbinger for me," Marcus joked. He then sarcastically revisited that comment, "Oh, right. You're not indoctrinated. I totally forgot."  _Well, this is it. Not much else to do now except let it happen. I can't fight back. I've got a broken right arm, disabled left, a broken nose...utterly and completely fucked from top to bottom. Ah well...I'm tired of fighting anyway. My squad will continue the fight...they don't need me. They never did. All I did was put them together...they did the rest. They're the real heroes, not me._

His head snapped to the left this time, reeling back from yet another of Leng's punches. He could hear Randall chastizing the assassin, while he lazily pulled his head back, suddenly feeling lethargic and tired: almost as if his body had finally drained what was left of his adrenaline, identifying his degraded fighting spirit. Almost like it was at terms with his mind's decision, and capitulated to it.

_A sword does not require the handle to be deadly...it can still cut, it can still bleed the enemy...all it does is guide them. But Garrus is more than ready to take command...he's a worthy successor, and a Spectre now to boot. He and Tali will be fine...they'll keep up the good fight. They'll make sure the Crucible is finished and lead us to victory. They don't need me. Tali will mourn, but she'll recover, just as she did last time. This is war._

He was reminded eerily of Tarquin's last moments once more as he turned back to Leng, shaking his head.  _Victory at any cost._

"-sick of waiting," once Marcus began to focus on them again, he could hear everything they said, "We've stood here and endured his crap long enough. Let me kill him. A quick, clean cut, like you said. Slice his head right off."

There was a loud sigh, before Randall rubbed his forehead, hands on his hips. Eventually, he nodded. Leng smiled, twirling his sword again before turning to approach Marcus, only to stop as Randall grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place. The assassin looked visibily annoyed by the delay, turning back to the manhunter as he spoke, "Do not play me, Leng. You kill the man and make it quick. We do not have time for torture or for you to play with him. Behead him and then bag him. We must vacate this area before his troops come looking."

"Oh, do get over yourself. Stop acting like what we do has any honor behind it," Leng snapped, shrugging his shoulder out of Ezno's grip as he approached Marcus, grinning, his shadow falling over the kneeling, defeated Spectre, "This is an execution. Acknowledge that so I can have my moment in peace. If I can't savour it, I will certainly take pleasure from it."

"Wait," Marcus stated, the assassin frowning at him. He ignored him, turning to Randall with a simple look: no grins or smart remarks this time. This was truly the end, "If I am going to be executed, I would rather die on my feet and then on my knees. Let me stand."

The manhunter seemed to think the decision over, tongue rolling in his mouth as he picked the man's words apart to find a hidden motive. Surprisingly however, in a shocking display of empathy, it was Leng who spoke, "Oh, let him stand, Randall. Let him have his little moment. It won't hurt him anymore than my blade will."

The manhunter actually seemed to chuckle, jabbing a low thumb upwards for Marcus to stand. Trying to do so awkwardly (as he had no arm to do so), Marcus could only manage to stumble. Wrapping a hand under one arm, Leng pulled him up, although the assassin made absolutely sure to do it with his right arm, causing the Spectre to bite down his lip and scream silently in response. Now standing, Marcus looked directly at the wall ahead, ignoring them both, as Randall responded, "That's surprisingly empathetic of you, Leng. You do your reputation no favours with such acts of nobility."

The N7 gulped as he felt cold steel suddenly and gently tap the side of his neck, hanging there, the silver blade gleaming in the dim light. It stayed there for a few moments, cold surface chilling his skin and causing goosebumps to rise all over that area. He rose his head slightly to allow for a clean cut, although he doubted he would do much if Leng decided to make his decapitation a slow one.  _Let's hope his apathy doesn't reemerge._

Kai Leng focused all his attention on his blade, making sure he lined up the swing perfectly, "Believe me, when you commit such acts such as this, the true nature of a man can be distributed by his excitement. This is not combat, this is execution: I can take my time."

"No, you can't," Randall muttered, crossing his arms, "Now, do it already. We have to go."

He didn't close his eyes. He didn't stop breathing. He didn't tense up. He didn't so much as blink. His face bloodied and battered, both arms throbbing endlessly in torment, he awaited the inevitable slice of a blade entering his neck and ending his life. In the end, he would be content with it. He would no longer be subject to Reaper puppetry, and no longer plagued by Cerberus. His team would lead the UGC in his stead, and he would watch the Reaper defeat from high above.

He didn't even gift them the acknowledgement. He stared straight away, almost as if they weren't even there.

But, then he saw it. At the corner of his eye. A blur moved closer to the window, and he frowned at it. He couldn't make out the details, but just as they were coming into focus, he noticed the figure dash towards the window and-

The glass exploded outwards with a loud bang, deadly, miniture shards shooting inwards as the window cracked and shattered into hundreds of seperate fragments. Tunnelling through the explosion, a blur of motion and movement, the figure erupted into the room, landing in a roll. Emerging in a battle stance and casually ignoring the glass that continued to land around them and was dotting the floor, a three-fingered hand unholstered their pistol, took aim and emptied four rounds straight into Leng's face. His kinetic barriers absorbed every shot, but the force was enough to send him lurching back, Marcus ducking as his blade swung lazily to the side.

Taken by surprise, Randall unholstered his rifle, and spun around, taking aim at the lone figure, who hadn't even bothered to turn her pistol to address the manhunter. Almost as if-

All eyes in the room were directed to the floor as a massive, blue burst of dark energy sent the only door ramming forward like a battering ram, literally ripped from its hinges like paper from a book's spine and tossed carelessly onto the flight of stairs directly opposite it. They settled amongst a haze of disturbed dust particles, which clogged the air. Circuits hissed and popped as their nerve endings suddenly didn't exist. Biotic energy tickled the sides of the doorway before evaporating.

A second figure dashed through the door, shotgun holstered on their back. Their face was a visible contortion of amusement and delight. With flick of the hand, she biotically lifted and threw Leng aside, the assassin's body spinning through the air almost comically before hitting the ceiling, where he unceremoniously thudded on the floor, landing with less grace than a turian trying to swim. His sword landed beside him, well within his reach.

Randall, torn between who to target, turned to the new target, raising his rifle to fire. He got off a few shots before the asari closed the distance. She moved to punch him, only for Randall to duck under it and hit her in the stomach, winding her enough for him to raise his rifle to her head. He stumbled however when the first figure fired several shots into his back, causing his barriers to flare. The second figure recovered, standing back up, with a biotic fist trailing her ascent. It struck his harrier rifle head on, sending it flying from his hands to slap the wall and clatter on the floor. Quick on his feet, his head snapped down to grab his pistol, unholstering it and managing to unload two shots into the first figure's shoulder before Aria gets sick of his antics and sends both hands slamming into his chest, biotically charged and with an explosive kiss. The burst sends Randall slamming into the remains of the desk, wood remnants flying into the air around his crash site.

By the end of the brief skirmish, Marcus knew exactly who these people were. He smiled as Nyreen approached Randall with her pistol raised, making sure he didn't get back up while Aria turned to regard the beaten Spectre, still having not equipped her shotgun. She regarded him from top to bottom, shaking her head, "Shit Shepard, you like some of the people I roughed up back before losing Omega."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I look like shit: got that memo a while ago. Glad you guys turned up, but may I ask exactly how you knew I was here or that I was in trouble?"

Aria just waved him off, turning to regard Nyreen who had her focus entirely on a seemingly unconscious Randall, "Garrus sent us. He was the first to notice you were missing. Nyreen said she spotted you leaving the battlefield, and elected to go find you: I tagged along, mostly because I actually need you alive to lead my invasion. We find some Cerberus engineer asshole monitoring his omni-tool and all 'round being fucking useless on the corner, so Nyreen took care of him. We heard a few sounds coming from the room, and when we looked in, we saw that black armoured motherfucker about to decapitate you. Nyreen took the window, I took the door: flanking maneveur. Worked better than I thought it would."

"Only because I came up with it," Nyreen commented, "You would have just rushed in."

A sigh. "Well, when that insufferable, moral scyophant is right, she's right. Now, how about a thank you for saving your ass?"

He clicked his tongue, emulating an annoyed teenager, "Oh, Aria. I would shake your hand in sincere gratitude, but both my arms seem to be pretty fucking useless right now."

"I know. It's pathetic to look at," the asari groaned with some disapproval, "You looked like you'd given up when we saw you through that window. Don't tell the Great Commander Shepard had surrendered like a little bitch?"

"Now's not the time for your antics, Aria," Nyreen admonished, still not turning towards them, "We need to get him out of here."

"What about the battle?" he asked, turning to Aria, "Have we won?"

That put a grin on Aria's face, who was now motioning him towards the open doorway, ready to escort him out of the room, "Last time we were there, we were mopping up what was left of the Cerberus right flank and quickly moving onto their center. They'll be finished soon enough."

"Aria, behind you!"

Nyreen's words had been punctuated by several gunshots even before Marcus and Aria had turned around to address the threat. His eyes widened as he was welcomed by the sight of Leng standing behind him, sword descending ontop of his head. His shields flared with the bullet impacts, but he barely felt them as he focused entirely on his target. Aria wouldn't have been fast enough to fire her shotgun, so it seemed Marcus was truly fucked.

Luckily, Nyreen had other abilities to stop Leng with. The assassin's movements suddenly stopped as the entire arm holding the sword ceased all movement, wrapped in a caccoon of oscillating, blue liquid energy that pulsed bright white. The stasis field encased even the sword, meaning Leng could everywhere but his right arm. Grunting, he was helpless as Nyreen fired several more shots directly into him, ready to finish him off.

But while she did this, she took her attention off of Randall. Having bided his time, the manhunter now leapt from the desk like a zombie, wood raining down from him as he raised his fist and struck Nyreen across the back of the head. The turian's aim stumbled, bullets slamming into the second window, shattering it. Holstering her weapon, Nyreen turned to engage Randall, who had leapt down, grabbed his rifle, and returned to crouch, taking aim at Marcus, looking to deliver a quick, clean headshot.

Aria would have none of it. She sent a biotic warp plowing into the operative, who's shields sputtered from the impact. She followed this with a series of shotgun blasts who's momentum and force caused Randall's aim to steadily slide from clear cut to infeasible. Irritated by this sleight of hand, he instead turned to face Aria, who was now charging towards him, yelling.

With Nyreen distracted by Randall's punch, the stasis field around Leng's arm fell, causing it to release him. Marcus backed against a wall, using his left arm to reach down and grab a broken shard of glass. Finding one, he hid it behind his back as he watched Leng recover, ignoring the numbness in his arm as he turned back to his seemingly undefended target. Smiling, he charged, hissing hysterically as he swung from the right with his ninjato.

Waiting for him to close the distance, Marcus ducked, causing Leng's blade to uselessly ping off the wall and slice through the air where he had been. With the assassin exposed and in range, the N7 wasted no time in unveiling his secret weapon, darting his left hand up to bury the glass shard into Leng's right hip. Kai Leng cried out from the sudden intrusion, stepping away as blood began to seep around the entry point where the glass fragment was left. Reaching down and ripping it apart (subsequently causing even more blood to pour out), he angrily tossed it aside and prepared to finish Marcus off with his hand cannon, palm raised as he prepared to blow the N7's head off.

Nyreen was beside him in a flash. Pistol holstered, she swatted aside the hand with the cannon, causing it to aim at the ground where it discharged, crackling energy bursting on the floor. Pissed off at the constant interruptions to his attempted execution, he made the mistake of whirling his entire right arm at her in an attempt to get rid of her: like he was swatting a mosquito.

Raising both her forearms, she let the swinging appendage collide uselessly. The turian grunted from the powerful impact, but had nonetheless successfully deflected it. Dropping the deflected arm he quickly and rapidly rose his left in a swift uppercut. Nyreen ducked back, and it clipped her jaw, causing her head to snap back ever so slightly and her sharp canines to bite the top of her mouth, drawing blue blood. She spat it onto the ground, tongue licking up the rest as she sent a biotically charged warp field straight into his face.

Surprised by this, Leng was temporarily blinded, his cybernetics taking a mere second to filter out the light. This was enough for Nyreen to close the distance, delivering a swift haymaker with her right fist to the side of his cheek, followed by a left hook to the other side. She didn't let up, uppercutting him in the chest, before her fourth strike was finally checked, the furious assassin literally grabbing hold of the fist in mid air, gripping it tightly.

Hissing, he reached up and grabbed one of her head frills, and began to roughly pull it back. Nyreen cried out, forcing her to one knee. The assassin, grinning as he began to overcome his turian nemesis, began to twist the hand he held hostage back, attempting to twist it. Unfortunately for him, Nyreen was two steps ahead.

Her other hand free, she reached up and tapped his chest, summoning as much biotic energy as she could. Before Leng knew what was happening, she distributed a massive surge of dark energy, channelling it directly into his chest. Bypassing his barriers, the assassin found himself lifted into the air where he slammed into the ceiling, forcing him to let go of Nyreen's frill and fist mid departure. Standing back up, she strafed aside, as he landed on the floor. Having had a similar experience, he rolled onto his back and leapt back to his feet, unsheathing his sword.

He turned back to Marcus, lips curled back in a grotesque visage of a human, teeth bared and spittle erupting from his quivering lips. He made one last ditch attempt to kill him, but it was all for nought. As he turned, a three-fingered hand snapped around the wrist holding the sword and held on tightly, pulling him back roughly. Stumbling, all he would feel next was Nyreen's fist connecting to his face, followed by her twisting the arm further back before bringing her elbow down on it.

Before he even heard the crack, and the scream that followed it, Marcus could only smile at the karma.  _Suck on that, asshole._

Leng, with his right arm now broken (much like Marcus), dropped his sword to the ground, now firmly caught in a one sided battle with a two armed, barely injured turian biotic. His left arm smashed into the turian's belly, but she merely shrugged that off, biting through the pain to spit the blue blood collating in her mandibles onto his face. His nose wrinkled and mouth creased as his cheeks and forehead were splattered with the xeno blood.

He reached up for a second strike, only for Nyreen to lazily kick it aside, more annoyed than concerned about the assassin's now failing attempts at fighting back. After a third failed strike at her chest, she raised one foot and kicked him back, striking him in the head. This sent the assassin fumbling to the ground who, now dripping blood all over the floor from the glass wound in his hip and trailing a useless, but agonizing, broken arm behind him, began to drag himself across the floor and away from the turian, grabbing his sword in the process. He finally managed to stand up, turning back to Nyreen as he sheathed the sword, stopping by the window.

"I'm...going to kill you...bitch..." Leng spat violently, apparently unconcerned by his redundant appendage, "If you think breaking my arm means anything, you're wrong. I can fight just as well with my left," he reached down, unsheathing one of his many auxiliary knives, twirling it between his fingers with effortless precision, "This...I'm going to bury this in your skull, you turian whore."

The two of them paused briefly as Randall flew past between them, Marcus watching as the three watched his body slam into a wall. Even still, after all the beating Aria was giving him, the manhunter managed to get back up, unholstering an SMG to fire five suppression bursts at her. He then ran up the stairs, holding his side, as Aria biotically charged to the location he had been moments ago, emerging like a blue torpedo, fists colliding with the wall at supersonic speeds, causing it to dent severely. Roaring, she turned and sprinted up the stairs in pursuit of Ezno, the sound of gunfire and biotic warps clearly heard above them.

Turning back, he saw Nyreen closing on Leng, the latter of which was in a huddled position, awaiting the turian's next move. The turian makes her move, fainting with a left hook before actually launching a right. To his credit, the assassin countered each one with a parry, making good use of reserve defense in compensation for his vulnerable flank. As such, the ex-Cabal continued to launch a myriad of kicks, punches and strikes, each one more powerful, hard hitting and swift than the last, all with the intent of whittling down Leng's defenses.

Even with all his cybernetics and special forces training, the assassin was unable to continue keeping up with her. Slowly backing towards the shattered window, blocks becoming more and more lazily executed and only just deflecting the attacks they were meant for, and his limited effectiveness more and more prevalent.

Back against the window, Leng's fight or flight instinct kicked in. To Marcus' surprise, he chose fight.

With a last ditch attempt to catch Nyreen offguard, he charged forward, lunging forward with his knife, now profusely sweating. Nyreen raised a biotic barrier to absorb the strike, and he was knocked back by it. Seeing him stumbled, the turian pressed the advantage and made for the final kill. Parrying each of his subsequent strikes, she grabbed his wrist on the sixth attack, twisted around, and tore the knife from his hand. Entirely helpless to stop it, Leng could only attempt to get in first as Nyreen made the plunge. His hand wrapped around her throat, tightening painfully quick just as she drove his blade deep into his abdomen. It sunk hard and it sunk deep, the sound of tearing armor plating and crushed flesh an unwelcome melody to Marcus' ears.

Nyreen croaked for air due to the assassin's powerful grip around her neck, but she only countered this by twisting the blade around in his gut. Leng coughed and sputtered, and once it became too much for him, he finally released his grip. Gasping for air, Nyreen angrily let go of the knife embedded in his belly and rose her right leg for one, powerful front kick. Slamming him in the chest, she watched as he hit the window's edge, the force sending him flying out through the frame and onto the ground outside, where he landed with a thud.

A few moments passed as Nyreen watched outside, waiting for him to get back up.

He never did.

He sighs happily, leaning away from the window to look back up the stairs. The sounds of fighting had stopped, so Marcus could only assume that either Randall had killed Aria, or Aria had killed Ezno. In the end, he didn't care. He could only draw in short, reserved breaths, desperately trying to draw focus away from his throbbing, broken arm, damaged left arm and shattered nose as the adrenaline dripping away caused the pain to increase tenfold. Nyreen arrived at his side, wiping away the rest of the blood on her mandibles as she grabbed his head, turning him to face her. She looked into them, as if trying to gauge his health through simple looks. Nodding, she patted his shoulder, "You'll be fine, Shepard. You're beaten and bruised, but I saw the injuries on those two assassins...you gave them a good fight. Who are they anyway?"

He scoffed, coughing, his throat dry from the lack of water, "Well, the one you just killed is Kai Leng. The one Aria has probably killed is Randall Ezno. They're Cerberus' top agents, and they had almost been about to team up to kill me. Before they worked seperately. This is the first time I've seen them work together to take me down."

The turian chuckled, wiping his temple of sweat, "You've certainly made a lot of enemies, Shepard. If they're for the right reasons, I'd be glad to know how you made them."

He looked at her, before nodding to the water canteen at her waist, "I'm parched. Let me have a sip of water, and I'll tell you all about it."

"Fair enough," Nyreen reached down to the canteen, twisting the lid open and handing it to him. He took it with his left arm, as that one hurt the least and was still partially usable, and took a large swig. Letting it part his lips only after it had satisfied his thirst, he handed it back over to her. She nodded, replacing the lid and reattaching it to her waist. Slapping her thighs, she stood back up, holding out a hand to him, "Come on, let's get you out of here, captain."

He nods, lifting his left hand to grab hers. The turian pulled him up, the captain ignoring the discomfort it caused him as he accepted the helping hand, coming to stand once more. Before the Talon general could help him any further, he held up a hand, ushering her to stand back, "It's okay. I can handle myself from here. I've got a broken arm, not broken legs."

She nodded, understanding what he meant. Likely wondering what Aria was up to, and worried about the lack of sound upstairs, Nyreen quickly tapped her comm, trying to get in contact with the asari.

She needn't have bothered. Slow, methodical footsteps could be heard coming down the steps, and the two of them looked up as Aria, shotgun in one hand and hanging limply at her side, walked down towards them, navigating around the two door pieces lying there, and approached them. She had bruising down the side of her face, an indicator that her scuffle with Randall had gotten a bit up close and personal. Regardless, the asari's appearance before them was proof she was alive, meaning she must have defeated Randall.

"Is he dead?" Nyreen asked, finger lowering from her comm to look at the asari. Her eyes flicked to the bruise on her head for the briefest of moments, before leaning back and crossing her arms. Marcus, if it was any of his business, would have surmised that she still cared about Aria, but he elected to not make mention of it.

"I fucking wish," Aria said jadedly, holstering her shotgun. She rubbed the side of her cheek, pulling her hand away to inspect whether or not any blood was present. Luckily for her, there wasn't, "Asshole is fast, I'll give him that. The moment he realized he couldn't win against me and that his inhibitor doesn't work on asari, he punched me in the face, dropped a smoke grenade and jumped through a window. By the time he got through and reached the window, he was gone. Nowhere to be found. Happened about the same time as I saw Leng get kicked through the window on your floor."

Marcus winced at that, realizing that Randall had once again escaped their grasp.  _First Rannoch, now this. Seems I have to add Randall to my list of people to kill. At least Leng is out for the count. I wish it could have been me, but I'll settle for his death. Still, if we're going to be continuing our campaign on Omega, Randall could make that difficult. Petrovsky's already smart enough without Randall at his side._

Nyreen, after a moment, uncrossed her arms and reequipped her Pugio III pistol, slapping a fresh thermal clip into it. Turning to the both of them, she nodded, "Come on, we should probably get back to the battle. We need to inform Vakarian that Shepard's alive and help the assault. No doubt more of my men will have arrived to assist."

Aria frowned, turning to the turian. She didn't seem at all happy at this discovery, or particularly aware of it to begin with, "You called for Talon reinforcements? When were you going to tell us?"

Pulling the hood back over her face, Nyreen looked to have ignored Aria's comment as she made for the doorway, but instead spoke just as she reached it, motioning to Marcus to move, "They're my troops, my responsbility. I don't answer to you, Aria. Besides, with Cerberus likely monitoring your communications, I thought it best they didn't know the Talons were coming. Imagine their surprise when the rebels they fought started working with the new invaders on the block."

"And what, they weren't monitoring yours?" Aria quipped dryly, walking up to join the turian and the wounded N7.

She shook her head, "My Talons have been fighting a guerilla war with Cerberus for little over seven months, Aria. We know Cerberus' operations here far more intimately than you do, and that means we know every trick to play. We constantly use new and different frequencies so that Petrovsky's engineers never catch on. The frequency I use is far more secure than your own," she turned to Aria, her left mandible twitching, "And with Colonel Farland's men recalled to deal with your attack, Petrovsky will think my men are regrouping and too busy to help you. Perfect time to strike and show our new colors. We need to show Omega we stand united against Cerberus."

"Nyreen's right, Aria," Marcus grunted, drawing both of their attentions. He sighed, feeling relief as he realized the headache was gone, meaning Randall's inhibitor was either destroyed or out of range, "It was a good move. Besides, we could use whatever help we can get. Cerberus' assault has put a sizable dent in our forces, and we'll need Talons to plug that gap. And if we show Omega hope for a different future, they may just support us. After all, Cerberus is only holding onto the station because they think they're bringing real change."

"They were free to do as they wished under my rule," Aria spat, entirely unpleased with the notion of her enemy doing better at ruling Omega than she did. She slammed a fist onto her chest, pounding it for extra measure, "Trade blossomed under me. There were no police to pester the entrepreneurian spirit. No laws and regulation. No politicians for corruption to seed. No government to tell them what they could and could not do. There's none of that under Petrovsky. Under these pro-human supremacists."

"You're missing the point, Aria," Marcus stated, Aria not meeting his gaze as she didn't want to hear the truth, "In the end, complete freedom isn't what they wanted. Like it or not, Omega was far from the safest place in the galaxy: there are reasons why people prefer the Citadel or their homeworlds. They want security. They can live freely knowing the state will protect them. A military ensures no oppression, politicians means no need to worry about micromanagement and police, for the most part, ensures there is no need to feel unsafe. On Omega? Your lack of security meant people were afraid to step outside their own damn apartments for fear of being shot, tortured, enslaved or raped. People were free to extort and be extorted, to hate and be hated. Hell, your handling of Morinth was just typical. I think the plague was the most you did to ensure any sort of stability on this god forsaken junk heap. And let's not get into bloody quality control. This whole station is a poor man's Citadel, and you know it Aria."

Nyreen nodded in agreement, "You don't want to hear it Aria, but I'm going to say it: Petrovsky gave the people of Omega what they wanted. I've seen it myself. I've never seen such a high police presence. The martial law means murder and rape rates have died down to nothing, and those caught doing it are executed. Trade may be limited, and the people aren't left wanting for food and water. And with news of the Reaper War, I think the Cerberus military presence has never been more welcome. There's no fear on this station aside from Cerberus itself. That's why the people haven't risen up. There's no need to. They finally feel safe."

Aria shook her head, looking between the two of them incredulously, "The two of you...so fucking morally uptight. This isn't the Citadel, it never will be! It is the capital of the Terminus Systems. Three generations have ruled this station. That's centuries of harmonic anarchism! What fucking right does he have to change that? This isn't Council space! People don't come here to be ruled by governments, they come to escape them! I will not be the one to undo centuries of traditional lawlessness! No, when Petrovsky dies, and he will, I will return this station to its former glory."

"And what glory is that, you fool?" Nyreen chastized, entirely displeased by Aria's behaviour, "You have to face the facts, Aria. You have no hope of returning this station to its former state. Whatever is left of the Omega you and I knew is gone, never to return. The people won't let you return it. They may have come to escape governments, but now that they've had a taste of this one, they won't let go. The moment you try to reassert yourself with that agenda, they will overthrow you and put somebody they like in your place. That's the decision you have to make Aria: if you want to hold power here, you must bring change. Give the people what they want. Be an actual ruler for once in your life!"

Aria jammed a finger in her direction, furious at the audacity of the turian, "Oh, and I guess you think you could make a shot for the title, huh? Is that it, Nyreen? You want to rule Omega, be the people's person? This is  _my_ station, and I  _will_ take it back and restore it to its  _rightful_ place in the galaxy. Don't ever fucking lecture me on this again," she turned to Marcus, eyes still lit up, "That goes for you too, Shepard. I will not change my mind. I did not come all this way to change everything I hold so dear."

_I this, I that. Fucking selfish, irresponsible, idiot! Why the hell am I here again?_

He sighed, nodding to the asari, not having the energy to fight her any further when it was clear she wasn't going to shift that easily.  _Right, I need Omega and I need her to be in charge of it. Still..._ he shared a brief glance with Nyreen as Aria walked through the door, the two of them silently shrugging at each other. After a moment, she reached forward, grasping his shoulder gently, "Thank you for trying to reason with her, Shepard. She can be so thick, but we'll get through to her. We have to. We'll make her see reason."

He nodded, and the turian let go as she walked outside, Marcus quickly following her. He appraised the turian, thinking through everything he already knew about her, and wondered just what the hell he was doing.  _Nyreen is a capable leader...she cares for the people she's fighting for, even if they don't care for her cause. And she's clearly less of an anarchist than Aria, otherwise she wouldn't have left her...and then there's the clear love she has for her daughter, and the reciprocative nature of it._

The next thought he had was inevitable.  _Maybe Nyreen would be a better choice for ruler of Omega when this is over..._

Before he could lament on this any further, he saw Nyreen whip up her pistol, suddenly taking aim at the ground outside to her left, "Damn, where did he go!?"

Marcus, eyes widening, realized too quickly what she meant as he rushed outside and followed her sight line to the destination. There, he found only drips of blood, still wet, coating the floor where a body should have been, but now wasn't. The blood seeped across the street, still dripping profusely, before seemingly stopping in the middle of the road. Either he had managed to clog the wound, or he had gotten in an escape the shuttle, the latter of which seemed unlikely due to the noise it would produce.

Marcus could only seethe as he discovered that Leng had once again slipped through his fingers.  _Fuck! And I thought we finally had him too! That's both Randall_ _ **and**_ _Leng who've escaped now!_

"I thought you said you'd killed him, Nyreen," Aria snapped, shotgun already out and scanning the area around them, "So unless his body just got up and walked away, you clearly fucking didn't."

"Come on," the N7 stated, walking back inside the room to grab his discarded weapons, as he remembered he had left them behind, "We have to get back to the battle."

"What about Leng?" Aria asked, clearly believing killing the assassin should be their priority. And as much as Marcus wish they could do that, he knew winning the battle was more important, "He could come back."

"He won't," he stated, reaching down and grabbing his Paladin pistol and holstering it, followed by his claymore shotgun, "He's a coward. Once he knows he's lost a fight, he'll run for it and wait it out for Round 2. And with the injuries he's got, he'll be out of it for a while. But trust me, he'll be back. He can't resist me. I'm like a light to his moth," he recovered his Locust SMG and pulse rifle, holstering them all as he returned outside, walking in the direction of the courtyard, "Let's go. We have an enemy to crush."

And onwards they went. Checking their corners for any surprises from their Cerberus friends.

It never came. They were well and truly smoke and mirrors.

_Next time, they won't be so lucky._

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0820 hours._

_Forward Entrance, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Major Kaidan Alenko, EDI, Moses._

What had been a mere breather for the beleaguered defenders of the bunker entrance had stretched on for quite a bit. Satisfied that the defense turrets were pummelling any Cerberus forces daring to cross the bridge, Tali, the squad and geth troops helping them to defend the entrance, were happy that they had been given a temporary, if fleeting, reprieve from the enemy onslaught. Of course, that had almost been brought to an end when Cerberus fighters and bombers had stepped up their attacks following the turrets being activated, even risking AA flak just to bomb them into oblivion. As such, many more troops had been lost on their side, Tali, Keeling and Javik just barely keeping alive as they were pelted with enemy machine gun fire and missiles.

Then, like guardian angels, geth fighters and interceptors appeared, slicing through them like a lance. Their spearhead sharpened and ready to cut, the geth fast movers were just as relentless with the enemy's aircraft as their dropships had been with the Cerberus gunships and shuttles (of which had stopped been ferried in due to the rate at which they were losing them), shooting them down indiscriminately, picking off fighters and bombers alike. It seemed as if the air supremacy Cerberus held was finally over.

But it didn't stop there. From their side, Tali and rest of their men had a clear view of the eastern flank, watching as an unending tide of rachni workers, soldiers and brood warriors had rapidly approached the Cerberus lines, bypassing their courtyard defenses to strike at their heart. Accompanied by Marcus and his own forces, they had engaged the enemy's flank in an intense, up close combat. That's all they had heard from them for about ten minutes: then, after that, Aria's voice had lit up the comm channel, proclaiming they had smashed the enemy's east flank and were now descending upon the enemy's center with rigorous speed. They had cheered, Tali sighing with relief, as they realized that the mighty enemy force across the bridge was, without a doubt, drawing its last breaths.

They weren't just taking a breather anymore. Their role in the battle was finished.

Tali, her head poking up from behind the safety barrier she was taking cover behind, scanned the enemy entrenchments on the opposite side. Their snipers were still keeping an eye on them, as were a few, heavily equipped squads of troopers with a single Atlas in support, but the majority of the regiment had repositioned to face the east side, having been made readily aware that their allies on that side had been annihilated.

Having seen enough and not wanting her head to get blown off by some nemesis, Tali ducked back down, opening her omni-tool to run a quick check on the bridge's control status. She sighed as she realized there was still nine, independent signatures controlling the bridge's control mechanisms, meaning she still couldn't retract the bridge. Straightening her hood, she turned around, turning off her omni-tool as she twisted to face the ever alert Keeling and the collected Javik. Her engineers, with the turrets now operational, had fallen back inside the base, protecting them from further enemy fire. The geth tank remained in position, ready to make a beeline towards the enemy if necessary. Kaidan had deactivated his tech armor, not seeing the need for it, and was leaning against a wall, sipping away at his water canteen and eating from an opened MRE packet, chatting with James, who was also munching away at his own packet of ready-to-eat consumables. Moses stood on the opposite side to Tali, pulse cannon keeping a close eye on the enemy, while EDI regularly checked her omni-tool for real-time battle sitreps and status updates. The geth troops assembled were biding their time, waiting for the next attack.

It wasn't coming. With the new threat to face, it appears Cerberus was in no position to risk another attempt taking the bridge. Even having control over it meant little to nothing when they couldn't even get within sight of it without being torn to bloody ribbons by the heavy chain guns the UGC had at their disposal. All they could do was wait them out. A siege while awaiting ground-based reinforcements.

Realizing she really did have nothing to do and that her stomach was only going to continue growling impatiently until she satiated its hunger, she reached down and pulled one of her nutrient paste tubes from one of her pockets. Releasing the seal, she quickly attached it to her auditory port, feeding it into her helmet. The foul looking, brown sludge may have not looked appetizing to turians, but for quarians, it was practically a gourmet feast, and something she was surprisingly able to afford given she was in the middle of a battlefield.

Just as she munched down the rest, she heard the supersonic bang of a fighter breaking the speed barrier. Quickly turning, she got to see a momentary glimpse of a Cerberus SX3 fighter, banking low and hard, shoot just over the bridge, missing it by inches. The back blast of its engines dispersed the air hard and fast, blowing into Tali's mask and causing her veil to ripple violently for a few moments before settling. It happened again, twice in fact, as the two geth fighters pursuing it, pulled off the same tactic, one of them firing a pair of missiles at the fighter as it shot past. Tali could only watch off in the distance as the fighter performed a barrel roll, managing to evade the first missile, only to be struck directly in the back by the second, spinning out of control. The pilot managed to eject, his tiny dotted form shooting up into the air as his fighter's drive core exploded, causing the entire fighter to turn into a raging fireball as it, now smaller than her finger in terms of distance, collided into a nearby building, a bright flash following its demise. The two geth fighters broke off, disappearing behind a pair of skyscrapers to the west.

_Keelah, we're tearing them apart. Pretty soon we'll have them on the run._

"Kaidan," EDI spoke up, garnering everyone's attention instantly. Tali did so in time to see the AI looking up from her omni-tool, specifically addressing their CO. Kaidan turned from James, dropping the plastic fork he had been using to eat his food into the packet, turning to her and gulping down what he had in his mouth.

"Yes, EDI? What have you got for us?"

"I have just received reports from our forces on the other side," the AI declared, "According to battlefield analysis, our forces now outnumber the enemy completely. They are making best speed for the courtyard, and the geth dropships appear to have eliminated the last of the enemy gunships: what shuttles they had left have turned back. The geth fighter squadron has cut down the Cerberus air support significantly, with only a few fighters remaining, and all their bombers eliminated. After they have dealt with the enemy aircraft, they plan to move on and neutralize their artillery. Dropships are now being redistributed to fire support roles and deploying additional reinforcements. They believe the time for a single, multi-lateral attack will be necessary to finish off Cerberus."

Tali nodded. Geth reinforcements were sorely needed, especially after the last of the two armatures on the other side had been destroyed, left too long and exposed to the controlled firepower of the enemy. But if they were calling for a final multi-lateral counterattack, it was clear where the wind was blowing.

_It's time to finish this. Keelah, Mark must have them really spooked._

She smiled, but hoped he was alright.  _He has been awfully quiet on the comms. I hope he's okay...keelah, if only I was over there fighting with him, not stuck behind this damn bridge. Maybe we can change that now..._

Kaidan nodded, but it was James who spoke next, "Fuck yeah, let's give those  _putas_ a second headache. They've only got a few squads over there, and we've got turrets and a tank. I say we attack, while they're vulnerable."

"Can't believe I'm agreeing with the knuckle-head..." Keeling began, standing up. James seemed to smile at that, but she ignored it, "...but I concur. Their vulnerable right now, sir. We shouldn't let that slip."

"Crush your enemy where they are weakest," Javik reciprocated, "Let us crush these separatist scum. Send them back running to their Illusive Man."

"New data is coming in. One moment," EDI announced, causing them all to frown. Tali wondered if Cerberus reinforcements had arrived, only for the AI to smile, looking up at Kaidan, "Major, geth fighters have spotted several shuttles and a pair of gunships approaching from the west. They bear the Talon insignia and color scheme. It appears General Kandros has enlisted their assistance."

"Then we  _must_ go on the offensive," Javik reiterated, pointing in their general direction of approach, "If the Captain is attacking from the east, and these rebels are approaching from the west, then we must open up a northern front. Only then can we divide and crush them. Teach this separatist general a lesson he will not soon forget."

Pulling herself up, she nodded, cocking her shotgun, Tali making her own opinion known. Kaidan seemed to notice it, and nodded, unholstering his rifle.

"Very well. We charge, and hope to hell the enemy are too disorganized to bring the big guns to bear. We'll have support from the turrets all the way, and our tank should prove more than a match for the single D-09 they have to assist them," with a heavy intake of breath, Kaidan picked up his helmet and latched it over his head, now speaking over their comm. Turning to James, he pounded his chest, "Semper Fi."

"Semper Fi," James and Keeling replied in response. Tali didn't recognize the language, but by the way they said it, it had to be something motivational. She listened as Kaidan motioned their forces forward, the geth shock troopers taking up the front while Moses formed their center, the human major contacting General Golo, "General, this is Alenko. We've got Talon forces inbound west, and Marcus and his troops have smashed the enemy's right. I'm going to lead my men forward in the hope we can catch Cerberus in a pincer move. Do we have approval to engage? Say copy."

The response was instantaneous, the quarian's voice sounding irrepressible, "You have my full permission to engage. I'll send what geth troops we have left in reserve to support the assault. I think you'll like what we have in store. You have my good graces, major. Send them to hell: ancestors guide your bullets true."

"Copy that. If we're lucky, we'll be back for breakfast," Kaidan replied, smoothing his hand over his rifle before checking his thermal clip. Once he had made this vital check, he wracked back the slot, turning to the rest of his unit, now addressing them, "We push forward in five. Await my orders."

Tali and the others nodded, getting into position behind the already tightened geth picket line. Tali took her combat stance behind and inbetween two of the shock troopers, her shotgun poking nicely through the gap to give her a good sight line. Keeling was on her left, while Javik was on her right, both of them readying their own weapons in preparation for the now inevitable storm. James and EDI took similar positions beside Kaidan, who had reactivated his tech armor, holographic armor plates encasing his body while his M-9 Usurper braced against his shoulder tightly, finger feathering the trigger so so slightly.

Golo had made sure to deliver on his promise. Less than a minute later, more geth poured through the entrance, moving around their tank and forming a line just behind Tali and her group: more troopers, rocket troopers and shock troopers made up their unit, their assorted variety of weaponry aimed with conviction at the one enemy that mattered at the moment.

That wasn't the end to their good fortune. Moments later, with resounding screeches, the defenders watched as an echelon of six geth interceptors swooped down, fast and low, approaching from the west and rapidly descending upon the hidden Cerberus M45 Goblin SPGs behind the courtyard. Being fairly large aircraft, the interceptors only lowered to a low enough altitude to see the artillery, but it was more than enough apparently. As they shot past, a barrage of bristling plasma missiles, energy explosives and virulent superheated projectiles assaulted the Cerberus positions on the ground, pelting them with nothing but a relentless blitz of angry, hot fire. The carpet bombing was thorough and maximized, making sure nothing within its targetted radius was going to survive, soldier or vehicle.

Columns of smoke and flame reached high into the air, more and more appearing in a neat row down the street in the distance. Buildings were torn asunder by the intense explosions, debris and wreckage flying up into the air while some buildings simply collapsed. And, for equal measure, once the interceptors had finished their bombing run, several fighters riddled with the smoke-filled area with machine gun fire, their Spitfire-like main guns shredding the vicinity, parting smoke as their devastating volleys tore apart whatever survivors lurked, if any.

As the smoke continued to over and the light of intense fires burned brightly, Tali listened for the telltale sound of an artillery shell being dispersed. The interceptors and fighters did not return to bomb the area again, and after a minute had passed, the Cerberus guns had not opened fire again. Tali smiled, glad that she no longer had to worry about that one lucky shell that likely would have eventually struck true and killed them.

_Without those guns and with no air support, Cerberus has nothing but ground troops. We'll make short work of that._

Three of the geth dropships swooped in again, returning from their slaughter of the enemy gunships. Coming in hard and fast, the dropships wasted no time in getting to work. With the sound of rachni swarming through and towards the courtyard getting louder and louder, two of the dropships deployed two, fresh armatures onto the rooftops where their comrades had been, reasserting armoured dominance. And while they began pelting the enemy defensive positions, the second dropship joined the third and began raining geth troops all over the courtyard, directly behind their entrenchments.

Not just any geth though...these were juggernauts. Three squads of geth juggernauts fell from the dropships' under carriages, slamming into the ground like air-based infantry, landing one one knee before immediately standing up, equipping either their Centaur grenade launchers or Spitfire miniguns, and immediately annihilating anything that was unfortunate enough to be too close. Tali watched as a nemesis was immediately blown away in a red, mirky mist as a juggernaut deployed next to her, its Spitfire's high velocity plasma rounds shredding her until she was nothing but bone fragments and meaty chunks splattered across the floor.

The few squads watching the bridge immediately turned to address the new threat, including the Atlas. Instead, the D-09 quickly found itself being attacked from above by all three dropships, and the heavy battle mech was left uselessly turn to and fro, unable to pick a target to focus on. They opened fire on the juggernauts, but it was clear the amount of geth firepower would overwhelm them with little effort.

In that moment, Kaidan gave the order, "All units, charge! Break their line!"

Being on point, the geth spearheaded their attack. Pulse rifles roaring to life, they pelted the enemy with suppression fire, allowing the more vulnerable forces to advance. Passing the turrets, Tali, along with everyone else, moved into a fast jog, weapon tightly held in her hands, as they rushed to meet the enemy. Just as they made this move, Garrus' voice filled the comms, relieving Tali even more.

"The cavalry has arrived!" The turian shouted, his voice punctuated by the shrieks and battle cries of rachni and krogan alike, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...onward! Let's mop up the rest of this rabble and call it a day!"

_It's only morning, but the sentiment is nice. Feels like an entire day though._

Gunfire, shouting and explosions originated from the east as their group made it halfway across the bridge. The battle was largely over from what she could see, with the juggernauts having made short work of what few troops had been left to keep an eye on the bridge. As a result, the defenders reached the other side with no resistance, gunning down what few Cerberus soldiers had managed to survive. White armoured corpses littered the ground, blood leaking across the floor in large, interconnecting pools of viscera and gore. Some of them were unrecognizable, so riddled with bullet holes as to be nothing but unidentifiable galleries of violence. They looked more akin to what you found in canned meat than former sentient creatures.

Their line split as they reached the other side, spreading out and repositioning to converge on the enemy's exposed rear. Tali, crouching at the crux of the platform, turned to her right to see a deceased centurion, who looked to have been laying there for quite a while. His head was missing, although she had a feeling the grotesque image of a lower jaw hanging on a loose string of neck flesh, with the eviscerated, gluey remains of a head pasted across the safety barrier he leaned against that still had steam hissing away from it from the plasma volley that had sealed his fate probably held the answer as to why. As it was, the centurion was also missing an arm, although the blackened, infected stump looked much older than it did recent...it had been inflected long before the final assault.

It didn't matter now anyway, and from the gold bars she saw on the centurion's shoulder, she could tell the dead soldier had been a high ranking officer, a battalion commander from what she could remember of human military ranks, and his death was just another boon on their side. Turning away from his mangled cadaver, she turned to see an even more gratifying sight.

Eight, very much dead, combat engineers. They were spread out over an uneven area of course, one of them missing both of his legs due to a well placed centaur round, while another had a clean hole blown through his chest. The others were an assortment of combat resolutions, but each one was dead, and that told Tali only one thing.

Their control over the bridge was weakened. Of course, there was nine engineers, and only eight of them were dead, which meant one remained, but that was enough for Tali to breach with relative ease. Dropping her shotgun to the ground and crouching, she quickly opened her omni-tool, bringing up the tab with the master bridge control display. Finding one signature, she quickly overrode it, kicking it out of the system, despite its best attempts to hold on. With full control returned to her, she hit the command to retract the bridge, turning to watch with glee as it pulled out and away from them to the bunker's side.

_That should stop enemy forces from sneaking past us and getting into the base for now._

Closing her omni-tool and picking up her shotgun again, the quarian stood up as Kaidan called out to her, waving her over. Running up to him, he nodded, motioning towards the east, "Our forces are making a final push. With us on their rear, we'll have Cerberus sandwiched between the two of us. We'll make short work of them," he looked at the bridge, before turning back to her. Even through the helmet, she could tell he was grinning due to his tone, "Reassumed control of the bridge, did you?"

She nodded, "That won't be a problem anymore," she heard the sound of shuttles echoing overhead, along with the thrum of arriving Mantis gunships, but she knew immediately that it wasn't Cerberus. Wracking her shotgun one final time, she fixed Kaidan with a stare, followed by a nod, "I'm ready to end this. Let's show that bosh'tet our teeth."

The two of them looked up as red and white kodiaks appeared from the west, immediately banking down hard and lowering their thrust. Landing firmly in the courtyard, the shuttles wasted no time in deploying their complement. Talon resistance fighters: human, turian, krogan, asari, salarian, batarian...all of them filed out, rifles, shotguns and SMGs raised as they beat feet to meet the enemy head on. They cheered as they joined the geth juggernauts in their advance, glad to have such powerful monoliths of firepower helping them. The two gunships paid them no mind, simply whirling by and shooting away to close the pincer from the air.

The human and quarian marines turned back, darting up their stairs as they held their weapons with renewed purpose, any thoughts of hunger and exhaustion sent to the back of their minds. There would be time for that later.

Right now, they had a battle to win.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0832 hours._

_Eastern Esplanade, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Tuhi District._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, First Lieutenant Jack, Battalion Commander Urdnot Grunt, Lieutenant Bray, Lieutenant Nakmor Dreg, Lieutenant Sata T'Loak._

What had been a slow trudge through a well entrenched army was quickly turning into an organized rout.

It was quite comical. Several minutes ago, Cerberus aircraft had dominated the air, Cerberus artillery had been shelling the bunker with impunity, Cerberus troops were suppressing the defenders with non-stop waves of troops, and Cerberus mechs and armor had been bridging their flank to keep the UGC off of them. Everywhere you went, Cerberus had it all covered: long range, short range, above and below, north, west or east...everywhere you went, a golden hexagon and white and gold armor remained an almost omnipresent force. It was oppressive and entirely overwhelming, and had this been Taetrus a year ago, and Cerberus were the government forces, they'd have won by now.

All that had changed in just those few minutes. Geth dropships and fighter wings sliced through the pro-human aircraft like paper, knocking them out of the sky with well placed precision and deadly accuracy. The enemy artillery had been mopped up with radical ease, plasma vaporizing their SPGs and incinerating those that manned them. Those who had assaulted the bridge had suffered immense casualties, eventually repulsed altogther, only to be slaughtered by the counterattack. And the powerful mechs and armoured support that had held their flank so strongly, so valiantly and so impenetrably, were now gone, leaving their entire center gaping and vulnerable.

One by one, the pieces fell into place like a puzzle that had been figured out. Push after push, barrage after barrage, charge after charge, muzzle flash after muzzle flash...their slow advance quickly became faster and faster. Cerberus troops would retreat a few meters, hold position, hold back the UGC, and then eventually get pushed back...rinse, and repeat. The amount of enemy forces was almost endless, and their nearly invulnerable Atlas mechs and waves upon waves of mindless, programmable Rampart CQB mechs made it so the battle was a walk through tedium, but moment by moment, following the thud of every corpse, the pace of the battle got quicker, and with less and less warriors to man a formidable presence, Cerberus' lines was breaking.

Retreats became more frequent, more tangible. A retreat per minute became a rout per half a minute. The tactics were always the same: if the dragoons fell, the guardians would provide a buffer to keep the rachni back while the less defended troops retreat, and they would have cover from the armoured mechs all the way. With a lack of gunships to provide air support, it was the best they had: and since Cerberus had managed to destroy the last of the mercenary gunships on the UGC's side, it was now largely mutual. No air support for either side.

The tension was there...he could sense it was ready to snap. Soon, the enemy's lines would collapse completely, and they would have their victory.

A minute later, Garrus dashed into cover again. Hiding behind a deceased guardian, he propped his sniper rifle ontop of the soldier's corpse, taking aim at the back of the head of the furtherest retreating unit. Finding his sights lowered on a retreating combat engineer, he pulled the trigger, compensating for the recoil in his gun as a round left the chamber, reverbrating through his shoulder. His aim ever true, he pulled away, practically feeling the crack of the high caliber round breaking through the engineer's skull, body flopping to the ground like a fish out of water, only to cease movement immediately.

They had pushed them all the way back to the central courtyard now: the enemy regiment holding their eastern flank had long since been decimated, with the few hundred troops that had survived retreating back to regroup with the second enemy regiment, where they entrenched themselves for a last stand. He watched as they fell back behind the entrenched positions of the second regiment, who still looked surprised by the sudden turn of events.

He felt a presence beside him, and tensed up only to realize a second later who it was as they decloaked, their hooded figure lying prone beside him, her SMG picking out targets and shooting from afar. Turning for a moment, he saw Jack and her students making sure the enemy's retreat was messy and costly, constantly hassling them with biotic bombardments and fluid warp fields. Jack herself sent a cascading biotic shockwave straight down a line of guardians, sending them stumbling. Garrus took advantage, landing a round dead through one of their eyes, blasting his brains out. The other two were quickly dispatched by Blue Suns legionnaires. Jack's students were joined by rachni brood warriors, whose own biotics joined the cascade of Cerberus damnation.

The rest of the rachni held back, content to spray acid from afar and kill the few troopers who hadn't managed to escape their last, most recent, charge down their center line. Eclipse mechs were being reapproriated to support roles due to the losses they suffered, with one YMIR mech spraying machine gun fire and rockets where it could land a hit, with a major focus on the enemy's D-09 heavy units. Grunt's krogan commandos were coordinating with the Blood Pack to Garrus' right, making short work of the Rampart mechs approaching from that direction.

Seeing the situation in hand, Garrus tapped his comm, watching as Liara popped a singularity right next to a dragoon, watching as he and the two nemesi beside him were lifted into the air helplessly as their gravitational mass was lowered. A warp followed it a moment later, and he had to cover his eyes as the singularity detonated, vaporizing those caught in it, and in the immediate radius of the blast.

He was largely speaking on an open frequency to all UGC forces, not caring if Cerberus could hear him, but mostly he was contacting the defenders who were likely still at the main gate, "The cavalry has arrived!" He announced, causing Kasumi to stiffle a giggle beside him. He rolled his eyes, finding himself slightly at odds with using the human terminology, but found himself in too much of a buzz to give a fuck, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...onward! Let's mop up the rest of this rabble and call it a day!"

Turning off the comm, he saw Kasumi looking at him, and just as he was about to ask her what she was looking at him for, she could only shake her head, and turn back to focus on the battlefield, "Seriously? Isn't it a little early to call victory, Garry?"

Ignoring the perversion of his first name, the turian put his eye to the scope of his rifle again, drilling another bullet through yet another soldier, this time a phantom. He watched the assassin's head snap back, dropping their sword to the floor. Reloading, he found a Rampart mech and blew its head off, the optics exploding with a blaze of sparks and torn circuitry before the mech fell to the ground, limp, "Hey, I had to get everybody's blood pumping. We can't be the only ones to do all the work. Besides, it's  _practically_ a victory already."

"Oh,  _practically_ ," the thief exaggerated, tapping her head sarcastically, "What a silly little thief. It's  _practically_ a victory. Thanks for the correction."

Finding an open avenue to one of the four Atlases left defending the Cerberus entrenchments, he lowered his scope over the pilot and fired. He growled as he watched the round barely crack the cockpit, the bulletproof glass absorbing the shot. He fired another round into it, only for the crack to barely get any bigger. Giving up, he fired a third shot into a centurion, hoping to make up the difference, "Sometimes thieves needed to be put in their place. Leave military tactics to me, Goto."

Kasumi just laughed, holding out her omni-tool and priming her overload program. He watched as the shields of an assault trooper sizzled and popped, allowing her to pop several rounds through his chest, killing him. Reloading her submachine gun, she turned back to him, a massive grin on her face, "Oh, you  _wish_ you could put me in my place."

Garrus just laughed in return, not thinking about what he said next before it had already left his mouth, "Maybe I will someday."

_Ergh. That was stupid, even for you Vakarian. And needlessly provocative._

The thief didn't seem to mind it, "Maybe you won't. It's a world of oppurtunities, bird brain."

"That's wonderously immature of you, Goto," Garrus quipped, popping a shot through the throat of an assault trooper, watching him gurgle and cough as he fell to the floor, trying to stop the blood leaking from his split neck, "Totally unbecoming of an adult."

Liara landed in a crouch to his right, perched on one leg as she deflected bullets and retaliatory dark energy attacks with her left hand and shot her predator pistol with the right, "Are you two quite finished? I was under the impression we had a battle to win."

"Well,  _sorry_ we have a social life, Shadow Broker," he snapped back snarkily, sniping a dragoon through the helmet, ending his life of harassing his asari friend, "And you're welcome."

Liara just laughed. Now no longer needing to swat aside biotic attacks, she formed a solid field infront of her, absorbing incoming projectiles while she continued to pop off shots at whatever she could get, "Careful, Garrus. I know what you like to calibrate most."

He gulped, looking up at the asari with an innocent look.  _How did she-oh, right. She's the Shadow Broker. All these months, and I'm still not used to that? Spirits, I was slow on that one._ "Liara T'Soni, you are evil. Pure evil."

He didn't turn to answer her, ducking as a rocket detonated just a few meters infront of him, showering them with explosive debris. Once the smoke from the initial blast had cleared, he looked back up again, noticing Cerberus troops had deployed a smoke screen to try and cover their retreat. Pulling up his rifle, he quickly checked the chrono on his omni-tool, realizing it had been more than five minutes since he sent Aria and Nyreen to find Marcus. His eyes furrowed in worry, turning back as he switched the scope on his rifle to thermal vision. Turning back down, he fitted it to his eye, immediately finding the murky, bright red outlines of retreating troopers. Lowering his scope, the rifle once again bit into his shoulder as he pulled the trigger, watching as the targetted nemesis spun with the impact, the front part of her face completely sheared off.

_They should be back by now...and where did he even go anyway? Why did he just leave without telling any of us?_

"They should be back by now," Garrus muttered, tone now serious. Kasumi and Liara noted the change in tone, solemnly regarding his statement with the utmost focus, "It's been more than five minutes, and not so much as an update."

"They'll return," Liara prodded, "Just give them more time."

"Fine," the turian grumbled, embedding a bullet deep into the back of the skull of another combat engineer, decimating his scalp with devastating fury. His rifle clicking empty, he grabbed a fresh clip and reloaded it, shouldering it once more. As a sniper, the weapon was his beauty, and it fitted into the crook of his shoulder, scope fitting to his eye, like a glove crafted just for him, "But if they're not back within the next five minutes, I'm going out there myself. Marcus could be in trouble for all we know."

"I'll be the first to help you if that time comes," the asari declared, hand on his shoulder. The turian shrugged it off roughly, but more so than he had intended. He regretted the action, knowing it must have hurt Liara for him to do that, but he couldn't help it. His best friend, the man he considered a brother and a mentor more than a commanding officer, was stuck out there, disappeared, and they didn't even know what happened to him: what's worse is that he possibly just sent the commander of the resistance and Omega's ruler to their deaths in pursuit of him, further fucking things up.

_He better be alright. If he's not...there'll be hell to pay._

"Me too," Kasumi whispered, gripping his shoulder tightly. For some reason, his first instinct wasn't to shrug her off, and he almost sunk into it if it wasn't for a bullet slapping into the corpse he hid behind, causing it to shake. Disturbed by the movement, he sprung back into battle mode, ignoring Kasumi's reassurances.  _Why her and not Liara? What made her doing the same thing more preferable?_

_Because you like it when she touches you._

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at the adolescent concept.  _Spirits damn me. I'm a victim to ridiculousness._

Finding a target, he brought his attention to one of the four Atlas mechs emerging from the smoke: in a surprising turn of events, they were now pressing the attack, somehow deluded into the thinking that they could somehow push the UGC back with just four D-09s. Behind them, five squads of Rampart mechs advanced, shotguns and SMGs echoing through the area as they returned fire at the UGC troops. Several Blue Suns fell, including the odd Eclipse merc, under the hailstorm of bullets and shotgun shells. The Atlases, whether armed with heavy machine guns, powerful cannons or ballistic missile launchers, made sure to obliterate anything that came near them.

It then clicked for Garrus. They were trying to break the stranglehold. Why do that if you have an avenue of escape directly to the west?

_Because they don't. General Golo must have heard my message and taken the initiative. He's closed off their only avenue of escape, and with nowhere else to go, they hope to make a break out. Good. That'll leave them more vulnerable._

Gunfire pelted the mech's frontline, but only one of the Ramparts were even damaged by it, the upgraded LOKI mechs appearing to have surprising amounts of resilience. Their tech armor glowing intensely, they stomped forward with a sort of predatory instinct not entirely unlike that of a Geth Hunter, but without the cloak: approach slowly, while looking menacing and wielding a big, bad gun. In that aspect, Ramparts and geth hunters were one and the same.

He fired his rifle, watching it once again crack uselessly against the armoured glass cockpit of the first Atlas, the one he had targetted before to no avail. Realizing they'd need heavy weapons to have any hope of bringing it down, Garrus tapped his comm, "Grunt, get your heavies into position and target the left most Atlas. Shios, have your YMIR target it as well. I want whatever firepower we have focused on that Atlas. Bring it down."

With each stomp and tremor on the ground, the towering mech moved ever closer, its sights now focused on Garrus, Kasumi and Liara. Now rotated fully to face them, the mech stopped, left arm slowly poised to aim at them, heavy machine gun rotors spinning up as he prepared a delivery of armor piercing rounds. Widening his eyes, Garrus screamed for them to move, rolling out of the way as he did.

The guardian's corpse was chewed to bits as the gun opened fire, denting the metal deck and eviscerating his cover like a butcher did meat. The Atlas pilot trailed him as he rolled, but was largely inaccurate, and therefore the stream of bullets completely missed. Now exposed, Garrus holstered his Reaper rifle and pulled out his mattock, motioning for Liara to follow him, Kasumi having cloaked and retreated already. The two rushed off to the side to join Grunt's commandos, the krogan hounding the Atlas with shotgun and missile fire.

The Atlas' shields ruptured just as it was hit in the back with a siege pulse. Looking up, Garrus smiled as he saw two geth armatures on the rooftops, having now turned from the courtyard to fire down on the attacking Cerberus. The second armature also fired its siege pulse, this one striking the left arm of the heavy battle mech and disabling it, sparks flying from the useless appendage as it slid down to hang limply at its side. The pilot frustratingly turned to deal with the new threat, only for one final siege pulse to strike right amongst its exposed back, where it was less armoured.

The D-09 exoskeleton exploded violently, the entire top half of its torso erupting into a terrific, rolling column of fire. Its legs left unharmed, the rest of the ammunition inside exploded, shredding what was left of the mech, and killing the pilot if he wasn't already dead. A flaming wreck, the Atlas could only trip on its right leg, stumbling to one knee before slamming into the deck, a massive tremor shaking the whole area before settling. Despite this victory however, the other three Atlases were still operational, and half a squad of the Ramparts had been dispatched.

Smiling as he found fresh cover, Garrus motioned to the fallen Atlas, and began to sprint towards it, not waiting for the asari to answer. As he ran past however, he tapped one of the Blood Pack krogan, motioning for him to give the turian his M-100 Spiculum grenade launcher. Grumbling, the warrior shoved the weapon into Garrus' hands reluctantly. Holstering his rifle, he gripped the heavy weapon steadfastly as he made his way back towards the Atlas wreckage.

Sliding to a stop before it, he ignored the flames still pouring from it, licking at the side of its shattered torso and blackening the armor plating. The flames were producing intense heat, but Garrus didn't have time to worry about that or the smoke choking his lungs, as he now had a perfect position from which to flank and destroy the Atlases, one by one.

Of course, he hadn't bothered to notice the half squad of Ramparts advancing behind him until his shields burst with the impact of a shotgun blast. Grunting, he turned as the six of them moved towards him, firing at him with a rhythmic series of muzzle flashes. Just as he thought he might be fucked, he remembered the weapon in his hands, took aim with it, and fired directly at the middle mech.

Its tech armor was no match for the heavy concussive force of the Spiculum as it was thrown back, torn apart by the blast. The two immediatey flanking it were destroyed as well, with the arm of a fourth shredded and twisted into uselessness. He was about to kill the last three when they were sudden wrapped in biotic light and torn from the ground, lifted into the air majestically, before being ruthlessly thrust back to the floor, bodies' shattering like glass as they hit the ground, exploding.

He turned back, already knowing that it had been Liara who saved him. The asari smiled, although rolled her eyes at his antics as she crouched at his side, echoing his words to her from before, "You're welcome, Garrus." Noticing his heavy cough from all the smoke inhalation, she raised her hand to form a stasis field temporarily around the Atlas, focusing her energy on it for a few seconds until the flames had dissipated entirely. Lowering her hand, she didn't bother looking at him even as he nodded with impression, the flaming wreck no longer so much as flaming as it was blackened.

Nodding once again, he stood up in a crouch, positioning the grenade launcher on the top of the Atlas, taking aim at nearest mech. It was now far infront of him, slowly forcing the UGC back, but not by much. Eyes down range, he took aim, breathing becoming light as he focused entirely on his target.

Then Kasumi's voice filled the comm, "Garrus! Come in, Garrus! I know you can hear me!"

He sighed, annoyed at being interrupted, "Not now, Kasumi."

"Yes now," she insisted, "Aria and Nyreen are back, and they've got Marcus."

He widened his eyes, nodding to Liara to make sure she was hearing this. The asari nodded that she had, allowing him to turn back to the Atlas. Returning to his assigned task, he replied as he fired the first grenade into the Atlas' back, the two armatures having similar ideas as they too opened fire on his target, "Well? Is he alright?"

"Define 'alright', Garrus," Kasumi stated, sounding visibly disturbed, "He looks like he's been beaten fifty times over. He's been shot in the shoulder, has a broken arm and a broken nose, has several cuts on his face, and some bruising. From the sounds of it, Aria and Nyreen saved him just in the nick of time."

He fired a second and ethird grenade, complimenting the second and third salvos of the armatures respectively. Eventually, he watched with satisfaction as it went down, meeting the same fate as the Garrus was covering behind, exploding with a bright flash before simply slouching forward, crushing its pilot as it slammed into the deck, 'head first'. The rachni were surging forward now, having waited patiently for the Ramparts to close ranks before attacking. It seemed the little insect horde was quickly becoming a get out of jail free card, as their involvement always seemed to turn the tide of the battle, no matter what. They tore apart the mechs with a sort of precision that would be terrifying to see from Cerberus' point of view, slicing apart the war machines like they were nothing.

"So what the fuck happened?" Garrus demanded, lowering the grenade launcher down as both he and Liara sprinted from behind the Atlas to return to behind their lines. He needed to see Marcus, to ascertain for himself that what they were saying was true.

"You need to ask him yourself, Garrus. He's really angry. He hasn't said a word since he got back. He won't even answer my conditions with words, he just nods or grunts. I had to get most of what I know from Nyreen or Aria, and even they don't know all the details."

"I'll be right there," Garrus replied, switching off comms. The two sprinted until they finally reached their line again, now desperately searching through the ranks of UGC entrenchments to find their captain.

It didn't take long. He stood out like a sore thumb in his Terminus Assault armor. Garrus, tossing the grenade launcher to an awaiting Blue Suns trooper, turned back and landed in a crouch beside Marcus, not touching him for worry of hurting him or setting him off. He knew what Marcus was like when he was angry, and it wasn't something he wanted to indulge.

The human looked up at him for a moment, nodding mutely. Garrus nodded, unholstering his rifle. He waited a few moments, then he spoke, "Marcus, I need to know. Who did this to you?"

The N7 didn't answer, remaining ever silent, looking like complete shit. Having seen him for himself, he could tell the man had been through a rough few minutes, but his attitude wasn't helping. Frowning angrily, he leaned up, his faces inches from his. When Marcus still didn't answer, he shouted, frustrated that his friend wasn't talking, "Speak, damn it!"

Marcus finally spoke, his voice hoarse and sounding exhausted, "Leng and Randall. They lured me away from the battle...trapped me in a room. They had a combat engineer outside blocking my comms, so I couldn't contact anyone. They tried to kill me, but I held them off long enough for Nyreen and Aria to fight them off. The fuckers...they're on Omega. Garrus, Leng is on Omega..."

That caught the turian's attention, and filled him with rage as well, "You bloody fool. What the fuck were you thinking? You could have died! You should have had someone come with you!"

"I fucking know, alright!" the human spat back, pushing him back weakly with his left arm and wincing profusely in the process, "But he was  _right there._ I needed to kill him! I so badly  _wanted_ to kill him! If I had waited for backup...he would have gotten away. I had no idea it was a trap...I was a fucking idiot, and I admit that. But what does it matter? I'm here, and Leng and Randall escaped. Shit's more fucking complicated now than a simple war."

"You're telling me!" More explosions as the last two Atlases made one final push, having nothing to lose now that most of their forces were on the run and would sacrifice themselves just to let the rest of their regiment escape. The turian winced as a particular explosion got too close for comfort, raining them with shrapnel that luckily didn't harm anyone. Sighing, he wiped his head, looking down at the N7, "We'll need to get you out of here..."

The N7 nodded, "No. You risk trying to get me out of here, and we'd have pointless casualties. I'll hang back here, do what I can with my left arm...I can still use it, it just hurts," Garrus fixed his brother-in-arms with a look of intense skepticism, feeling that the human, having several maimed appendages, was more of a burden than a help. Marcus noticed this, nodding lazily, "I know my limits, Garrus. I'm about as useful to you on the frontlines as a soldier with no arms...which is practically what I am right now. But I can still fire a pistol, and I'm not going anywhere. I'll leave you in command. You'll have run of the show."

The turian exhaled deeply, realizing he really couldn't ask much else of the UGC's consul. Keeping him out of the battle completely was going to be impossible, and the turian had to hold a smirk back at the thought. Although he couldn't help the one question he had hanging on his mind, largely regarding the limp, crippled nature of his right arm, "Are you sure its...broken?" he jabbed a finger at the appendage, "Cybernetics or no, you should be swimming in a pool of agony right about now."

Marcus looked at him, fixing him with a 'really?' look, and when the turian didn't relent, he just shook his head, motioning lethargically at the right arm as if he was entirely non chalant about it, "Garrus, believe me, my right arm feels like it's been smashed with fifty krogan warhammers right about now. Like it's been stomped by eight Atlases. Like it's been hit by a Reaper main gun...you get the fucking point. What I'm trying to say is...I'm in so much agony right now, I could potentially be dying and it would bring me greater fucking bliss. So...unless you'd like to question the validity of my broken arm, I'd enjoy a good 'ol shot of morphine, if you don't mind."

Satisfied, he motioned to Nyreen to do exactly that, the turian general nodding back as she crouched down, procuring the necessary medication. He turned back to Liara, prodding her shoulder. Once he had the asari's attention, he fixed her with an intense, almost pleading, stare, "You stay here and you keep him safe. I don't care what he says, this crazy lunatic would try and punch Harbinger with that arm if he could. Keep him out of trouble and, most of all, if Randall or Lieutenant Bastard Leng returns, keep them away from him and call for help. Whatever you do, keep him protected."

She smiled, hugging the turian tightly before pulling back, "We're all family here, Garrus. I'll protect him like he's my own blood."

He nodded with some respect, glad for the asari's comraderie, "Good to hear. Now, if you don't mind, we  _do_ have a battle to win."

Liara, falling into a crouch, could only chuckle.

Sharing a brief glance with the Alliance captain, who had now pulled out his Paladin pistol and was holding it with his left hand, Garrus rushed out, mattock rifle gripped between his talons, and moved towards Jack and her students. There, they had been joined by Aria, the ruler of the Terminus Systems joining their biotic bombardment with some of their own, looking like she needed to vent some stress of her own as her wraith shotgun, holstered, lay unused on her back, her body wreathing with liquid blue fire as she ensnared her enemies with biotic energy, ripping them apart at the atomic level and leaving streaks of blood and gore painting the floor.

Unfortunately, her latest tirade of anger was directed at the two Atlases currently focusing all their attention on her, Jack and the rest of Tango squad. Sata had since joined the mix as well, ignoring her mother's orders to stay put to engage in the fight secretly without her knowledge. Now that she knew, clearly, Aria didn't care, ignoring her disobedient daughter as she fought, realizing she couldn't possibly make her go back now that she was here. So with that in mind, the asari gripped her M-25 Hornet submachine gun like it was part of her, gracefully shooting rounds at whatever target she could feasibly kill. At her flank were Dreg and Bray, the krogan and batarian lieutenants respectively using their shotguns and rifles to provide covering fire while leading Aria's men.

Garrus quickly arrived at their side, watching as a Rampart mech closed the distance with Aria, firing its eviscerator shotgun at point blank, close enough to cause her kinetic barriers to pop. Angry, she moved to swat it aside with her biotics, only for the Rampart to strafe to the left, prepping its omni-blade at the same time. Bray noticed this and fired upon the mech to protect his commander, but his rifle fire pinged harmlessly off the back of its tech armor, the holographic armor plates absorbing his bullets effortlessly. Omni-blade in hand, it swung at Aria, who managed to duck under it in time before she was decapitated. The Rampart recovered quickly though, elbow shooting upwards to strike her in the face, causing her to reel back.

Garrus crouched and fired at it as well, and with his combined fire joining Bray's, its tech armor was quickly overwhelmed. The holo armor detonated loudly, the electromagnetic pulse bursting out from it and draining the shields of those around it, as well as causing their weapons to lock up temporarily. Luckily Terminus Assault Armor had electronic shielding and counter-electromagnetic warfare hardware, protecting his weapons and armor from EMPs. His weapon unharmed, he continued to pour fire into the Rampart.

But Aria had it all in the hand. Slamming a brutal, biotic uppercut into the mech's chest, she continued to send a flurry of fists flying into its face, shattering the glass of its optics, allowing her to smash them into oblivion. Unable to see, the Rampart was now helpless as she snatched the shotgun from its hands, and proceeded to empty the entire chamber into its torso. After the fact, the mech fell as a mangled contortion of its previous form, Aria angrily tossing the empty Cerberus shotgun away before stalking forward to join Jack, who looked on with some amusement.

_Glad I didn't piss her off during my days as Archangel. Don't think I'd want her coming after me._

Even as he moved forward to grab an assessment from the asari pirate queen, Aria was already moving on, signalling to Jack for the powerful human biotic to join her, "You seem like a powerful girl, Jack! Follow me and let's deal with these fucking Atlases." It was clear the tedium of the battle's length was beginning to wear on the asari, who wanted a quick resolution to the engagement. She hoped to take down the last two D-09s, who were currently in the process of decimating an Eclipse squad, having already torn a Blood Pack boom squad asunder, the mutilated and disfigured corpses of vorcha and krogan left well behind them.

With this in mind, Aria unholstered her shotgun and prepared to charge one of the Atlases, but to Garrus' surprise, Jack spared Aria a mere glance...before beginning to chuckle. This gained the asari's attention, who turned to the laughing human with mild annoyance and a mixture of befuddlement and fury. "You think I'm joking? We're losing too many men to those mechs."

Jack simply shrugged, looking up at the huge, bolstered exosuits, "I didn't realize you were so impatient for this battle to end. I was content just blowing away these assholes piece by piece while the rachni did all the work, but if you really insist..."

Aria shook her head, turning back, "Just help me alread-"

Almost out of nowhere, Garrus watched with mixed parts of awe and trepidation as the Atlas the Terminus ruler had been targetting was suddenly coated in cobalt blue. Aria stopped as well, turning to Jack as they could see the human reaching out with one hand, almost lazily and nonchalantly, liquid, element zero power dancing off her fingertips to wrap the mech in cold, solitary confinement. The mech continued to move, as the biotic clearly hadn't used a stasis, although Garrus had a basic idea of what she was about to do. Aria, however, didn't, turning to Jack with a laugh.

"What are you going to do? Even I coul-"

Tired of listening to Aria's antics, Jack put all her visible effort into physically lifting the mech into the air, a second hand joining her first as they combined their power into the effort. Aria could only shut up and watch as the Atlas ceased all forward movement, its monstrously top heavy weight drastically lessened and leaving the ground, floating into the air in a slight, but noticeable, tumble. The pilot desperately tried to regain control of his war machine, but it was a useless endeavour: he was at the complete mercy of Jack.

Without waiting so much as a second longer, Jack suddenly lashed out. Whipping her hands to the left, she sent the lifted Atlas tumbling into the second, slamming into it with intense speed and momentum. The blue glowing leaving its form, its mass was returned to normal just as it touched the second Atlas. With all its weight returned, it crushed the second Atlas beneath it, causing the second D-09 to begin tumbling towards the building next to them. With a thunderous crash, they broke through the wall of the house beside them, smashing through at least two stories worth of rooms before the second Atlas came to rest on its side, pinned beneath the weight of the first one Jack had thrown ontop of it. They were left unable to get up as their sudden arrival caused the entire structure to collapse ontop of them, rubble exploding and raining down ontop of them.

By the end of the entire situation, the two Atlases were buried under an enormous pile of rubble, their pilots more than likely killed by the impacts of the two mechs colliding anyway. The result of the structure breaking down was a massive hole between the two buildings flanking it, a massive pile of rubble taking its place, while an avalanche of dust and smoke pummelled its way across the battlefield, shrouding it in temporary darkness.

Garrus could only smile as the smoke and dust cleared, revealing the retreating Rampart mechs, who were withdrawing due to the dent in their numbers and the fact that their heavy armor was now completely decimated. He raised his rifle and fired on the nearest one, downing it, while aiding a trio of rachni soldiers in taking down another armed with only an omni-blade. It managed to kill one of the soldiers before it was overwhelmed by the other two, a shot from his mattock to the head downing it for good. He was taking aim at another, joining the UGC forces in pushing back, as he heard Aria, recovering from her surprise, addressing Jack with what was clearly an impressed tone.

"Jack, Jack, Jack," she stated, voice full of surprise and amusement, "Why didn't I recruit you before? We could have worked very well together..."

The psychotic biotic didn't answer as the UGC and OLF troops began to retake all the ground they had been steadily losing, trampling over dead Rampart mechs until they reached the area where the two, destroyed Atlas mechs were. The Ramparts were falling like flies, one squad decimated by a combined onslaught from the geth armature duo on the rooftops. Eventually, Garrus put the bullet in the last Rampart, marking the end of Cerberus' mech power. With nothing but troops left and no mech support, Garrus and Aria ordered their respective forces forward, storming the Cerberus lines.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0850 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_General Oleg Petrovsky, Colonel Connor Amish._

The statistics weren't looking good. Even without looking at the battlefield readouts and real-time tactical data, Petrovsky already knew the battle was a loss. The look on Amish's face from the few glances he gave the man told the full story that he had read quite well, and in this particular chapter, Amish looked pale, hands gripping the edge of the table with a sort of devastation few victorious commanders would ever exhibit.

So the General didn't need to look at the readouts. He needed to only look at Amish to know what he already knew. The Tuhi assault was a colossal disaster.

He had remained silent in his personal war room for most of the siege, allowing Amish to direct operations personally. His strategy had been well thought out, and Petrovsky had to applaud him on his quick thinking. Any other commander would have left their flanks totally unsecure, allowing themselves to believe that the distinct lack of an  _obvious_ second entrance would force the UGC into a linear, one-sided attack. Instead, Amish had correctly predicted Shepard's actions and redeployed the 8th regiment facing east, where they were more then ready for the UGC relief force. Had it not been for unforeseen events, he may have succeeded in repelling the attempted pincer tactic.

But then Petrovsky had come down to inspect the operations himself, and he was not pleased with how things had progressed. It had appeared Amish had neglected to coordinate with Majors Ezno and Ruth, thus leading to major miscommunication. Troops pointlessly sacrificed trying to take a bridge? Geth troops being allowed to deploy and outflank the 6th? The 8th's re-coordination being down without approval of the 6th, and leaving them totally in the dark? His air forces picked from the sky due to faulty intelligence regarding UGC air strength?

He didn't need to ask. He had silently stood beside Amish at the war table, who had become more and more paler as he realized where the situation was heading. Attempts to salvage it were met with futility: the 8th's commanding officer was killed in a rachni counterattack, something of which they were completely unaware of, and due to the chaos of the battle, transferral of command to the next highest ranking was impossible...as the 8th didn't even know their commander was dead.

It didn't help that Ezno and Leng had disappeared off the grid, only for Ezno to contact him later, informing him that he was cut off from his troops and unable to link up with them. Luckily, transferral of command for the 6th was much easier due to them being better prepared, but Lieutenant Colonel Adams' death had made things even more complicated.

But he asked anyway. Hands clasped behind his back in parade rest, he turned to Amish, asking the dreaded question, "What is the situation?"

Amish tensed up, shakily licking his lips. The man looked as if he had seen a ghost, and he had understood why. The Illusive Man didn't broker failure, and the loss of a battle so colossal in scale would no doubt send ripples up the command chain so high in intensity, that examples would be made. After all, the commander behind the Eden Prime debacle had been thoroughly 'punished', and Amish, understandably, didn't want to suffer the same fate. Gulping, he answered, "The...the 8th regiment's...gone. It's been wiped out. Reports from the 6th state that once the rachni closed ranks...it was a massacre. Couldn't even be considered a battle. They were wiped out in minutes. As for the 6th...the situation grows more dire every second."

The numbers were staggering, the losses even more so. But Petrovsky didn't relent. He needed to know every detail, "What of their predicament? What is the possibility of salvaging a victory from this?"

Amish sighed, sweat beginning to collect on his head. Cold, relentless sweat. He grabbed a handkerchief, folded it neatly, and wiped it gently from his temple, "Very...low. What's left of our air forces dedicated to the battle are gone, our artillery's gone, and all the Atlas and Rampart mechs dedicated to it are...gone. Nothing. They're surrounded on all sides...they've got Shepard's unit from the east, UGC troops counterattacking from the west...aided by what appears to be additional Talon reinforcements that we didn't foresee coming. They're...completely trapped with the enemy closing the gap every second."

Petrovsky shook his head, regarding the screen once more. There was barely four hundred troops left of the 6th, and those numbers were quickly dwindling. With the odds packed against them...victory was completely impossible outside of a miracle: not even Petrovsky himself could betray those numbers.  _The second round goes to you, Shepard. Well done._

He turned to Amish, nodding, "Very well. Have what's left of your troops pull out and retreat. The battle is lost."

The colonel didn't acknowledge him for a second, simply wiping his head again, "No...I can...if I could just have the 7th and 9th move to reinforce...perhaps we could-"

The General wouldn't have anymore of it.  _Let it go. Do not hold onto your pride._ As calmly as he did, he verbally put his foot down, not willing to hear anymore, "I will not lose any more soldiers to this debacle...you've done your best, colonel. Now get those troopers home. They've fought hard, and now they deserve rest."

Unwilling to hear anymore, he turned and left the command center, marching up the steps until he was back in his war room. He stopped in the middle for a moment, exhaling the great amount of breath he had been holding in, before turning to his chessboard. With a sigh, he moved over and grabbed one of Shepard's bishops, moving it over until it knocked aside one of his own. A second bishop moved in...taking out one of Petrovsky's pawns. He stepped back, regarding the chessboard, and the significant advances the man had already made. Turning back, he moved to his desk, typing up on the terminal and bringing up a holographic interface on Omega's schematics over it.

He zoomed in on the Rubicon quadrant, and regarded it closely. He knew now that attacking Aria's bunker head on had been foolish, especially regarding what little information Leng had provided. It appeared his knowledge had been severely limited, and that the omission of rachni and geth troops, as well as enemy aircraft, had spelled doom for Amish's army. He would not make the same mistake again, especially since it costed them two entire regiments.

Finding a large communal center in the middle of the quadrant, he zoomed in on it, eyes narrowing to look at it closely. In the few seconds he had to analyze it, he realized it was perfect for staging their next assault. Evacuating Rubicon would be inevitable...he wouldn't be able to contain the UGC threat without first pulling out all civilians. But once he did...his second major offensive would be pitted here. This time, he knew exactly what to expect, and how to counter it.

Studying it astutely, he realized the communal center was wide enough for Marcus' host to pass through, but the skyscrapers were too tall for his aircraft to provide air support: that limited Petrovsky as well, but he had a way around that. Every entrance and exit possessed a force field, therefore reinforcing his strategy. In just a few short minutes, he had thought it through.

He would stage a new attack along this communal district. With a wave of Ramparts, he would faint a fake assault through the center, and make sure Marcus saw it: he hoped the plan would work much like the famed Operation Fortitude in Earth's Second World War, where the Germans were successfully fooled into committing to offensives against dummy invasions, diverting attention away from the real threat. Marcus would try to get the jump on him this time, and attack with the bulk of his force. Once the trap was set, he would activate the force fields, trapping them within that area and with no avenue of escape.

In actuality, Petrovsky would have the majority of his artillery positioned in semi-circle around the communal hub, and once they were trapped, they would begin shelling of the area. With this in place, he would have his own army, likely a force of 20 to 30,000 men, coming in from all angles, surrounding and crushing them. While this occurred, a special forces team, consisting of Cerberus' veteran Shadow Force, would infiltrate the bunker with an antimatter explosive, detonating it deep inside the base after exfiltrating. Their sheer force of numbers, coupled with no access to the air support they used with impunity, and the artillery thinning out their rachni and krogan horde, would ultimately be the UGC's demise on Omega.

Petrovsky was confident this plan could work, and he saved it, codenaming it Operation Invincible. With this plan in mind, he closes the hologram and returns outside, marching down the steps until he had rejoined Amish, "Order the 7th and 9th to form a defense perimeter around the Rubicon quadrant, and to begin evacuating the entire Rubicon quadrant. I want those districts emptied of civilians before the end of the day," finished, he enquired on the status of his retreat, "Has the 6th pulled out yet?"

Amish shook his head, hanging it low, "Sir...there is no 6th. Talon forces cut off their retreat. They barely had time to react. Coupled between angry krogan and rachni hitting your rear, and Talons catching them in a crossfire upfront...they never stood a chance. The 6th is finished."

Silence for a moment, before Petrovsky cleared his throat, "I see."  _Four thousand troops...all of them dead. These are unacceptable losses indeed. No doubt Colonel Amish will be thoroughly demoted when this is over, if he's that lucky. But there is no point in pondering the future unless we preserve it. The loss of each battle increases the expectations of success upon the next much higher. Invincible cannot fail. Not this time._

"I have a new plan in motion to put a stop to this," the General announced, gaining the attention of the other three colonels in the room, "Operation Invincible will be ready for you to analyze at your own discretion. Suffice to say, this devastating defeat will serve as a stiff reminder of the danger we face, and that we must remain strong. Because of this, I am personally raising the Threat Level on his station to Critical. I will be assuming personal command of all Cerberus forces on Omega, effective immediately."

_If I must drag us to triumph, I will. There can be no going back. Omega must remain ours or it will be lost to that asari tyrant forever. I will not allow Omega's people to suffer that again. Not while I can stop it._

Amish didn't seem to object, simply nodding meekly, "Understood, sir. I'll...have the 7th and 9th carry out your orders. Evacuation will begin in minutes."

 _He will be the first governor to lose his quadrant on Omega, but hopefully the last. He will recover. Although I'm not sure his career in Cerberus will._ Nodding his head, he turns directly to Wchest, gaining his attention by walking over to him. The colonel immediately straightened and snapped a salute. He seemed to understand what Petrovsky wanted through a simple look, but he didn't smile when it came down to it whatsoever, "You want me to bring all my regiments from standby to full battle readiness?"

The General nodded, "Yes, and I want you to spread them out across the Hudson and Styx quadrants. I want a firm crack down on Talon activities, and I want you to find their headquarters post haste. I am placing Operation Darksword back into effect, and I'm placing the priority of weeding out the resistance with due persistence. Their recent pledge of support to the UGC is a concerning development, and one that cannot be allowed to continue. Find their headquarters, crush the Talons. Deprive the UGC of their thorough knowledge of the land. This I entrust to you completely, Colonel Wchest. Do not disappoint me."

Wchest saluted once more, nodding, "Yes, sir. I won't. My men will not disappoint. We'll find the Talons wherever they may lurk and pluck them out, root and stem. After all, fighting them is no different to fighting UIS...and I've got plenty of experience dealing with their lot."

He returned the salute, providing the man a firm nod of approval, "Hence why I chose you for the job, colonel. Carry on. I want status reports by the hour."

Turning and walking away, he could only listen as alarms began to blare across the command center, lighting turning from the vibrant, casual color to a dim, aggressive red that signified their battle conditions. Men and women rushed about the CC with hurried and busied demeanour, carrying out his orders at break neck pace.

It was finally dawning on the Dyuko District that they were now truly at war.

**"Seems like quite a triumph...but if records on Operation Invincible are true, then why did the operation never go ahead? It doesn't match up."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Simple. We never rushed out to meet him. We had other plans on how to deal with Petrovsky, and I don't think he truly expected us to be that ballsy."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"Keelah,** _**I** _ **didn't think we could get much crazier. I was wrong."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

_**A/N:** _

_**I know what you're thinking. Another LONG ASS CHAPTER!? Well, hopefully that does it, because the Battle of the Tuhi District is effectively over. It'll be back to conversations and the occassional gunshot for a bit. If you're asking if I'm going to follow the Omega DLC verbatim, I'm not...which means anything could happen next. Guess you'll just have to find out...** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	71. Adjutant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petrovsky reconsolidates. With the failure of the Cerberus assault, the UGC return to their plan to cut through to Afterlife: only one obstacle remains, and Nyreen provides a solution.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR:**

**ADJUTANT**

_August 6, 2186_

_0911 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_General Oleg Petrovsky._

Like the first ANN reports following the Fall of Earth and the Alliance's catastrophic defeat at the hands of the Reapers, Petrovsky was once again baring the brunt of bad news.

He remembered it vividly. He had retired to his personal quarters, located in a building connected to the back of New Order HQ. They were not originally Aria's: Aria's personal quarters had been below, beside the former Lower Afterlife, which had now been converted into an armoury and garage for vehicles, or at least was in the process of being expanded as such. He had made sure her quarters were completely removed, any trace of her residence scrubbed clean from the structure. Where Petrovsky resided now was where her lieutenants had formerly lived, now converted to his liking. Far less luxurious and complex, and more in line with military standard and far more spartan.

A single bed, squeezed into the back corner. Air conditioning built into the wall, only present due to the intense heat of Omega making it a necessity for basic concentration. A sparse floor, carpet ripped up and discarded, looking more akin to the barren surface of Tuchanka than the easy-to-look-at furnishings of a beautifully made deck coating. A desk occupied the center of the room, a vidscreen attached to the back wall. A bottle of the finest Thessian wine perched on the counter, half empty and occupying the same space as a terminal, sheets of datapads and a holographic projector. A single M-23 Hornet rested inside the desk drawer, ready to be drawn if the need arose. The walls were drab and featureless, much more in line with the eroded, dystopian cliche that made up Omega's construction. A window stretched across the back, allowing for a clear view of Omega's cityscape, a jungle of claustrophobic streets, jagged spires, elongated skyscrapers and suffocating columns of smoke.

An unfortunate reminder of the hellscape that Omega was, and always would be. The de facto capital of the Terminus Systems. Seat of the Pirate Queen. The site of a thousand-year-old revolution that had turned up nothing but a criminal hive of malevolence, violence and rephrensible acts ever since it was liberated from the krogan warband that formerly manned it. The very station Petrovsky was tasked with holding, and of which he had set out to improve for the better.

Again, he remembered it vividly. He had been sat at his desk, acknowledging the success of his propaganda campaign, of which he had given control of to Colonel Heather Colwood. It had worked perfectly, with relief centers and populative outreach better than it had ever been. The population was finally beginning to acknowledge Cerberus' goals and came to accept its intentions, knowing full well it was for the greater good of Omega and its inhabitants.

It was June 2nd, 2186 when it happened. Colonel Farland had contacted him via omni-tool, telling him the time had come. That they had arrived. That the war had finally begun, and that he should turn on the vidscreen.

So he did. The Alliance News Network, humanity's primary and most prominent source of news and communication across the galaxy, had been his first choice to find out what was going on. He had immediately switched to the Earth division, knowing that humanity's homeworld would have the most information pertaining to the Reaper invasion. But when he did, all he got was a blank, blue screen, the ANN logo of a spinning projection of Earth, the letters 'ANN' hovering in the middle, painted firmly in the middle, with two simple, but nonetheless harrowing, words beneath.

Signal Lost.

That was it. Eeerily calm, unbecoming music played in the background, making it seem as if the connection failure had been a casual interruption of datastream, and that it would be resolved in no time. But it never was. Hours passed, days, weeks...that same still image, the same unrecognizable, generic tunes, the same two words...they never changed, never updated. And it was obvious why. The Reapers had destroyed all the comm buoys on their approach towards Earth, effectively cutting off Sol from the rest of the galaxy.

June 2nd, 2186 would always be remembered as the date Earth fell.

It was hard. Petrovsky had many country men that he knew that still lived on Earth...after all, he was a man of the Russian Federation, even if he found his allegiances now exceeded national limitations and encapsulated the human race as a whole. No doubt the Reapers had been as relentless and ruthless in Russia as they had in every other nation across the planet, and it was hard to imagine the city he grew up in, Murmansk, burning while the sounds of people screaming and pleading for help echoed through the streets.

The ANN division on the Citadel reported on the situation almost as soon as news was made available to the public. The Alliance had lost Earth, and just barely retrieved their military assets before they ended up like the batarians. Humanity had a military, but it was bruised, battered and broken in spirit. And to think that was only a couple of months ago...

Hearing about the loss of Earth...the capture of humanity's cradle, the very birthplace of the Alliance and the human race...the feeling had crippled Petrovsky, and for days, he had brooded, his mind filled with images of his beloved motherland...thinking about how, for the first time in history, Russia, as he knew it, had been completely conquered, as had the entire planet. So many human nations had tried to do so in the past, committing entire years to doomed military operations that failed to pay attention to the failures of others. And the Reapers had come along, in just one single day, and annihilated every defense the Alliance had, landed across the entire planet, and captured it in just 24 hours.

That feeling of defeat, that feeling of sorrow...it wasn't present here, but no doubt the Cerberus armies of Omega were feeling it. No doubt his colonels were feeling it. No doubt the Illusive Man would soon know about it, and demonstrate concern at where the wind was blowing. For the first time since Cerberus boots had landed on Omega...they had been defeated, immeasurably no less.

Petrovsky's eyes closed, hands splayed out across that very same desk, arms braced against it, his uniform straightened out and impeccably furnished. Outside, he was the measure of military composure, chiselled from stone and entirely unperturbed. On the inside, his conscious weighed heavily with the loss at Tuhi, thinking about every single one of the four thousand soldiers he had sentenced to death in the name of humanity. The Illusive Man's grand army...it was supposed to be unstoppable. It was supposed to be the best equipped force in the galaxy, capable of defeating even the Alliance's veteran marines.

A grand army from which to fight the Reapers with...and it had been so unceremoniously wiped out within an hour. For all his intellect, for all his supposed tactical brilliance and for all the firepower he wielded at his fingertips, he honestly couldn't bring himself to acknowledge anything else. Operation Invincible was in motion, there could be no doubt...and it was a near foolproof plan. It would bring the bulk of Omega's might to bear on the UGC, and with the odds stacked against the invaders, Petrovsky was confident victory would be secured swiftly.

But the Battle of the Tuhi District would not be forgotten so easily. Sure, he was not a sentimental man, or someone was stuck in the past: defeat wasn't an anchor that he allowed to keep himself fixed, weighing him down with regret, remorse and delusions of retribution. He had made it a vocal point to himself that he would never remained trapped to previous mistakes, and that he would only learn and adapt from them, bettering himself in the process and expanding himself as a tactician and as a general. But it was the recent loss at Tuhi that had left its mark with Petrovsky. It reminded him who he was dealing with: that he wasn't just fighting Aria and her disorganized band of radical loyalists.

Petrovsky had the UGC outnumbered, that was certain. If anything had been successful in the Cerberus siege of Aria's bunker, it had been the intel gathered. Enemy forces were evenly divided, with a large contingent of rachni, geth and krogan, but their tactics and behaviour insinuated they were compensating for lack of numbers. This, and their refusal to deploy reinforcements until they were at the risk of being overrun, implied their resources were valuable, and couldn't be dispensed with recklessly. This, and the knowledge of two inbound fleets Shepard wasn't aware of, meant that Petrovsky had a shaky, but firm, advantage to that regard.

But this numerical inferiority was not going to keep the UGC down, and he knew it. As it was, the Cerberus war machine was supposed to be superior in every way: better equipped troops, all of them cybernetically augmented into supersoldiers, a large arsenal of mech support, knowledge of Alliance tactics, secrecy and espionage on par with the STG, and fleets of ships with crews more then capable of taking on any of the UGC squadrons. Cerberus also had the luxury of resources, as the loss of Earth didn't hinder them as much as it did the Alliance...after all, Omega had all they needed.

The problem was they lacked competent leadership. Petrovsky being made commander of their entire military was nice and all, but pointless when he was restricted to directing one single army, while the rest fought across the galactic stage without his supervision, and without following his orders. He was kept completely in the dark, totally unaware of what the other military divisions were doing, and the failure of the Citadel and Eden Prime operations could only be attributed to his own lack of oversight. The Illusive Man kept him intentionally detached from the military affairs outside Omega, and Petrovsky was certain it was damning their entire war effort. As such, command was given to less capable commanders...hence the debacles that were the Eden Prime campaign and Operation: Deathstroke. Even now, the Illusive Man's Operation: Falsehood, which was his bid to capture Aite and secure it from the UGC, was underway, although Petrovsky had no idea whether it was failing or failed, succeeding or victorious.

So while the Cerberus armies and fleets were grand and massive in scope, they were effectively useless against a foe with better leadership. As such, Cerberus was without such hindrances on Omega, and having taken direct command, Petrovsky was confident Operation Invincible would secure the victory Cerberus sorely needed. Its past losses were beginning to wear on the Illusive Man: it was obvious. With his troops being battered left and right, Shepard somehow managing to be everywhere Cerberus was in a timely enough fashion to hinder their most significant activities, the Illusive Man was starting to crack. It was clear he expected results, and the pressure was on for Petrovsky to bring a swift end to the UGC invasion.

_If he didn't have me cooped up on this station all the time...perhaps I'd be able to stop these from happening. The Citadel assault may have succeeded if I directed it personally...but of course, the Illusive Man apparently knows best. Although his recent decisions of late have left much to be desired. Sending two fleets isn't going to solve the real issue at hand. Hopefully Ezno and Leng were at least successful in ridding us of Shepard._

He sighed as he snatched up the bottle of wine, inhaling deeply as his nostrils willingly and happily absorbed the sweet, bitter aroma of the alcohol. While Petrovsky wasn't a particularly large fan of the smell, it was ultimately the taste his tastebuds ached for. Walking around behind his desk, he opened a drawer and retrieved a simple glass cup, sliding it onto his desktop before unscrewing the top of the wine bottle. Pouring the glass a quarter full, he replaced the lid and lifted the glass. Not taking the time for his nose to acknowledge the bitter, unwelcome stench, he let his lips tap the side of the glass, the alcohol sloshing in his mouth before he quickly swallowed it, smacking his lips as he appropriated the taste, relishing it. Placing the glass back on the desk, he activated his terminal, pulling himself down into the seat behind it, arm sweeping across to move three neat stacks of datapads to the side as the terminal booted up.

He scratched his beard, clicking his tongue as the terminal finally finished its start up process, numerous tactical status reports from the Tuhi District immediately filling up the screen, scrolling by in miniture pieces of text. Each line detailed something Cerberus had lost: troops, equipment, vehicles, aircraft, artillery, ammo...it didn't stop, the ceaseless lines of data moving by at a rate he couldn't keep track of.

Petrovsky had to wince at the losses...at Amish's losses.  _Four thousand troops...two entire regiments. Twelve aircraft, seven M45 Goblins, twenty-two D-09 Atlases, fifty-four Rampart-class mechs...and four thousand soldiers. Assault troopers, dragoons, centurions, combat engineers...thousands of potentials snuffed out in a bloodbath. Perhaps Ezno was right...perhaps the risk was too great. Or perhaps the failure lies with me giving Amish complete operational command._

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand before swiping a hand across the keyboard's mousepad to remove the tab, tired of seeing information he had already addressed. The next tab was the proto plan drawn up for Operation Invincible, including proposed troop deployment, division of command, artillery grid bombardment locations, possibility of air support...he had encrypted that particular tab, quickly exiting out of it. That left one, third tab open.

His eyes froze as he addressed this one. It was listed as 'Project Adversity', and was probably the only non-military based tab on his terminal that he had taken to personally addressing it. It was utmost importance to Cerberus' science division, with the hope that it could eventually be used for military applications.

His hand hovered over the keyboard, getting ready to exit the tab. At the last moment, he minimized it, deciding it would be an issue he would need to act upon later. He hadn't acquired an update from Adversity for three months and, at least until now, it hadn't been of any concern to him. But now that the UGC was invading, and considering the failure of the Tuhi siege, he would need to look at it again to decide upon its usefulness. Yet again, it had been something the Illusive Man insisted upon, saying it was of scientific benefit to the human race and would be a perfect weapon to utilize against the Reapers...and possibly against the UGC. Before, Petrovsky hadn't even considered it a viable option, but now...

He sighed, picking up his glass and taking another sip of the wine before carefully laying it back down. The bitter, sweetened taste had a calming effect on his senses and, perhaps more ironically, cleared and filtered his mind so he could focus properly. In that moment, he felt his stomach beginning to ache, remembering he hadn't eaten for 29 hours, and needed to fullfill his appetite. Standing up, he approached the mini-fridge near the back of his quarters, leaning down to open the door, listening as the sealing peeled open. Reaching in, he retrieved one of the four sandwiches he had made for himself, closing the door behind him. It was a simple arrangement: a simple peanut butter and cheese sandwich, with white bread. Enough to keep him fed, but not too obnoxious. Perfectly utilitarian.

Retrieving it from its plastic wrapping, he quickly took a bite out of it, savouring the taste before quickly chewing and swallowing. Returning to his desk, he sat back down, grabbing a datapad and dropping it infront of him. With all his colonels now answering to him, he only needed to wait for the status report on the deployments he ordered, which he didn't expect to reach frutition until tomorrow at maximum. Until then, he was laden with the responsibilities of civilian management. If his colonels were the governors, Petrovsky was effectively the head of state.

Such things were not the matters of military command. The General had never once been given political powers, let alone powers of state, in his entire time: not while in the Russian military, and not while he was in the Alliance. Omega was the first experience he had with wielding this power, and while he strongly disliked, he was happy to bring the people of Omega the much needed change. He heard himself referred to as the unofficial fourth ruler of Omega, and some would even proclaim it to be official, given that Petrovsky toppled the previous ruler, and that typically makes him the next in line. Regardless of what they called him, everybody knew who governed Omega.

Suffice to say, trying to micromanage a military garrison of forty thousand troops and a fleet of hundreds of ships, whilst also looking after and improving Omega, was no easy task. Many things on the station were simply not up to snuff, such as sewrage, taxation, law enforcement, government, law and order, maintenance, structural quality standards, sanitary hygiene, air filtration, water purification, etc. If Omega did have it, it wasn't of good quality. All of these would be things Petrovsky wished to change or be rid of in his bid to make Omega not only a better place to live, but a good place to begin with.

Abusing the mines was...an unfortunate necessity. While Cerberus had secured Omega for tactical gain, there had also been the vast wealth of element zero caches that had made the asteroid famous from the get go, and given Aria had neglected the mines for centuries, Cerberus felt the need to make use of what she refused to. As such, the Illusive Man had asked Petrovsky to bleed the station dry of resources, even if it meant working the ancient machinery to the point of breaking. It was risky, and there was no doubt in his mind that the drills would eventually break or simply stop working, but the General had his orders, and Cerberus  _did_ need those resources, as every drop of element zero went towards powering another warship or a new facility or creating more dragoons.

As for everything else, progress was being made. Water purification had been a must, and one of the first things the General had done. Within the first month of his leadership, Omega's water purifiers had been brought up to the highest quality standards the galaxy demanded, matching that of, if not quite as monstrous in scope, to the lakes of the Presidium on the Citadel. Air filtration had been next, followed by establishing an interim government until an official state could be formed. With the necessities made up, Petrovsky had his colonels focus on law and order, as well as governance of their individual quadrants. So far however, it was working: riots were at an all time low, and the Talons were rapidly losing the popular support, which irrevocably led to an increase in Talon desertions and defections. If it weren't for the UGC, he was sure the Talons would have eventually surrendered.

_This is how you control a people. To defeat a resistance group. Ruling through fear is what led to Aria's demise: nobody likes a monster, and a monster is only as good as the fear they can generate. People have nothing to lose having nothing to fear from a monster, and soon after, the monster is dead. No, show the people you can be reasonable...that you're benevolent and care for their interests, and they will invite you to rule them. Beg for it. Freedom and security is all they want, so why not give it to them? Any resistance you face will soon vanish once they realize what they're fighting for isn't the public, it's themselves._

It was a simple rule many dictatorships in human history had failed to grasp. North Korea, Iran...where were they today? Eventually, the people get tired of the lies, the fear, the paranoia...and when people grow tired, they become irritable, and when they become that...well, anything can happen. No, better to be loved than hated, and better to be trusted than feared.

He checked the datapad's contents, nodding as he took another bite from his sandwich. Since the UGC's invasion began, Petrovsky had been forced to postpone or outright cancel numerous construction projects, focusing his time and resources on combating the invaders: it was simply a priority. But many of these projects had been doing well before Aria returned: construction of a school in the Hudson quadrant, expansion of a hospital facility in the Styx quadrant, and the steady recruitment of a proper police force. It was all slow moving, and Omega was far from becoming self-sustainable, but it was certainly a step in the right direction, and he was all the more glad for it.

_These people have suffered enough under T'Loak. Her negligence and indifference has made Omega nearly unliveable. That will change, and I'll be damned if I allow Shepard to destroy it all. To end all we've built here. He may not know the devil he lays with, but I've actually fought her...selfish and dangerous. She wants the station, not the people, and she'll do whatever she has to to get it. She's a threat to Cerberus, to Omega, to the UGC, to the Talons, to herself. I will stop her. I have to. Shepard may think he fights on the side of good, but when it comes to this matter, he has no idea what he's doing._

Petrovsky had to linger on that, shaking his head.  _Of course, it likely won't matter much longer. If Ezno and Leng did their job, he's dead and that leaves Aria to command his forces. I shall defeat her as thoroughly as I did the last time. Without him, the threat she poses is heavily minimalized._ He read a little more of the datapad before shoving it aside, grabbing another.  _Still, I find it curious they've failed to report in yet. It's possible they may have been killed with the rest of the 6th and 8th reigments, but doubtful. Guess we won't know until they actually give a report._

As if reading his mind, his terminal began to beep loudly with an incoming comms request. Dropping his sandwich onto the desk, he leaned forward and tapped the holographic keyboard, hearing Colonel Farland's voice filtering through, "General, you told me to tell you if we got an update from Ezno or Leng."

He raised an eyebrow, nodding, "I gather they have?"

"Just Ezno, sir," Farland replied, sounding uncertain, "I think it's best you hear it for yourself. Patching him through."

"Very well," Petrovsky acknowledged, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped infront of him. Professionalism had become more than just a habit: it was a mannerism instilled into the General, and he feld himself unconsciously straighten in the chair, as if mindful of being watched even though nobody was in the room with him.

A few moments later, Randall's voice could be heard, the sound of a grunt followed by body armor thumping against a wall, "General Petrovsky...I apologize for this late report, but I couldn't break radio silence and compromise my location. By now, I'm sure you've heard the reports."

Petrovsky licked his lips, taking careful note that the manhunter's tone was neutral, and that he didn't immediately report Shepard's death. The General wasn't quite ready to jump to conclusions however, giving him time to explain himself, "Yes, none of them good, Major. Tuhi was a complete operational failure. Our entire force was decimated. Not a single man made it out alive...aside from you and Leng, of course."

"Not one?" Randall asked. Petrovsky stayed silent, believing his lack of an answer was the only answer he actually needed. Getting the point fairly quickly, observant as he was, Randall sighed, "Unfortunately, this was doomed from the start. Many errors in command were made here, General. Colonel Amish performed admirably, but I must say that the incompetencies expressed by some of my field commanders were irreputable. I'm afraid our defeat was inevitable."

"But we learnt a valuable lesson here, Ezno," Petrovsky immediately replied, crossing his arms, "If we're going to face the UGC in direct battle, we must lure them into a confrontation. We paid a heavy price this time, but no doubt further mistakes down the road will be our downfall. We must make sure this doesn't happen again. I have plans drawn up for another offensive, one where we will attack from the rear of their base this time, not the front. Foxtrot-Tango." Of course, none of the information he provided was true. He was planning to lure the UGC out into the field, not attack them again. However, the risk that they were listening in on their communications was high, so telling Randall his real plans on an open comm channel would be idiotic: Foxtrot-Tango was a verbal indicator used by Cerberus forces to alert them to the distribution of this false information. Besides, while he was here, he could feed the enemy false intel, make them think he was going to attack again.

Randall nodded, responding in kind, "Foxtrot-Tango."

Satisified that Randall was sufficiently clear on Petrovsky's meaning, he leaned forward, hands clasped on top of the desk, eyes fixed intently on the terminal even though all he had of Randall's presence was audio over secured comm link, "What of the mission? Was Shepard eliminated?"

To his credit, Randall's response was quick and to the point, barely mincing words, "That's a negative. We encountered factors outside of our control, and were unable to complete the set objective. I take full responsibility, General."

Petrovsky nodded, not feeling particularly angry, nor surprised. In fact, he had perhaps known that, deep down, Randall and Leng weren't going to succeed. It just seemed like a certainty from the beginning. Still, he liked Randall for the very fact that when a mission went sour, he took the blame for it: he didn't do the easy thing and shove the blame on Leng. It was one of the many things that made Randall one of Petrovsky's favourite field agents, however brief their tenure working together had been. He exhibited more special forces restraint than his assassin compatriot, "Very well, Major. This is unfortunate, however not entirely unforeseen. We've had many attempts to kill Shepard in the past, and none of have beared fruit. It would be unfair to assume simply doubling up on him would have proven any different, in any case."

"He put up a strong fight," Randall admitted, sounding impressed, "He was outnumbered and outgunned, but the way he was fighting, he had a fair chance of winning. We almost had him though...turns out his absence didn't go entirely unnoticed. Aria T'Loak and some Nyreen Kandros came to his rescue. We were forced to retreat. Well...I was."

That caught Petrovsky's attention.  _Kandros was there?_ "You fought Nyreen Kandros? I didn't think someone so morally respectable would ally with another so immorally irredeemable. Perhaps this tiger really does change its stripes."  _Or perhaps, like Shepard, she was wooed by Aria's promises of change and liberation. Unfortunate. I quite liked Kandros. We both share the same principles, yet we found ourselves on the opposite sides of the trenches._

Randall nodded, "Yes, I fought Kandros earlier before back in the Felmuk District. She appears to be firmly in Aria's camp. Having the Talons helping the UGC could prove to be a real headache, especially if they're feeding intel to the enemy. And after Tuhi...we can't afford to look weak."

Petrovsky shook his head, unclasping his hands and smoothing them over his desk, "Oh, we shan't. Our forces remain strong and we will illustrate that strength through our actions. And with the people still firmly on our side, the UGC will be hard pressed to liberate a population that doesn't believe they need to be. As such, resources will not be pulled for military operations. Keep the population happy and they'll never be dissatisfied," he grabbed another datapad, dumping it infront of him, "Now, if that will be all, I want you and Leng to report back to HQ immediately. There are some details we need to smooth over."

"Sir," Randall began, voice sounding hesitant, "Leng is...MIA. We got seperated while engaging Aria and Kandros. I fought Aria, he fought Kandros. By the time I retreated, I could see Leng falling out a window: he had a knife in his gut. I couldn't risk getting close enough, so I was forced to leave him behind. I'm by myself, General."

This was not entirely unsurprising to the Cerberus general, although there was some element of predictability to it. After all, Leng's cockiness and arrogance could only have lsted so long in combat before Shepard or somebody else finally took advantage of it and killed him, "As unfortunate as Leng's apparent death may be, we must continue regardless. I will break the news to the Illusive Man, although I must warn he will not be happy. Leng was his best assassin."  _I use the term very loosely._

"Again, I take responsibility. Leng's hesitance to kill Shepard immediately allowed T'Loak and Kandros to intervene as timely as they did. I should have had him kill Shepard," Randall retorted, sounding exasperated.

"Well, regardless of-" Petrovsky began. The terminal beeped again, the General frowning at it, "Hold on that, Ezno." He then tapped the intercom, readying himself as Colonel Farland's voice came through the comm.

"General Petrovsky, sir," Farland opened up, "You have another comms request. Sir, it's Agent Leng."

That caused the General to raise an eyebrow. He breathed heavily, exhaling tightly, "Thank you, Colonel. Patch him through."  _Apparently our assassin is not as dead as initially thought._

Farland's voice was replaced by Leng, the assassin's voice raspy and breathy, sounding winded and pained simultaneously, as if he had run a marathon from the Ismar Frontier to the Perseus Veil, "General...Agent...L-L-Le-ng...here..." a grunt, followed by a long, drawn out groan of pain, "Reporting..."

"You sound injured, Leng," Petrovsky stated, "What is your situation? Do you require medical assistance?"

The assassin seemed almost annoyed by the question, as if attention being brought to his condition was unwanted, acknowledging that he could indeed be hurt, not to mention killed, "I've...had one of my own knives...rammed into my gut...and twisted...I'm bar..el...y abl...e to walk...But...I'm... _alive_..." The last word was stressed and almost hissed out at the last minute, as if trying to do so before he died. But he was very much alive, his croaky breathing a testament to this fact. Petrovsky would say he was thankful the Illusive Man's favourite pet was not a corpse, but on the other hand it also meant he now had to deal with the assassin's antics again...antics that had almost cost them men in the past.

"Well...that means you're no longer MIA, and confirmed to not be KIA," the General stated, his voice no doubt sounding entirely unimpressed, "However, you are WIA. I say again, do you require a CASEVAC?"

Leng sounded offended by the idea, growling incessantly, "No...I...will be just fine. I've removed the knife, and cauterized the wound. Walking is a pain, but my regen is kicking in, and it'll be somewhat healed by tomorrow. I've commandeered a skycar and I'm making my way back to HQ now."

He licked his lips, ignoring Leng's statement as he move to address both of them, "As I've already told Randall, I want both of you to report to HQ for debriefing and reassignment. I'll sort out the details when you arrive. Until then, make haste and maintain radio silence. No doubt Shepard will have his men scouring the area to find you if he's feeling vindicative enough. Out of sight, out of mind. I expect to hear from you both soon. Petrovsky out."

The terminal fell silent, both Leng and Randall having followed his orders and gone silent. Pulling back from his desk, he stood up and walked around it, one arm propping up his other as his hand stroked his beard pensively. He was glad Agents Leng and Randall had survived at least, as he would need them for Operation Invincible. And while Amish had lost half the troops under his command, he had the 7th and 9th regiments actively evacuating the Rubicon quadrant, effectively marking Cerberus' withdrawal and capitulation in that sector...at least for now. But quite soon Cerberus would retake Rubicon by storm, and he would lead it himself.

But, if he truly wanted it to succeed, he needed to surprise the enemy. He needed to introduce a piece on the chessboard they weren't aware of, nor expecting. It would undoubtably promise a swift victory, and likely render the need for the large forces he was committing unnecessary. If used...this new player on the field would decimate Shepard's army, end Aria's attempts to retake Omega, sever the head of the Talon leadership and eliminate the galaxy's "savior", all in one hit. Of course, there was one question:

Could he really bring himself to use this new weapon?

_Project Adversity hasn't produced viable results for months. Not even a working prototype, or successful field test. Nothing but failed experiments and rogue runaways. I'm beginning to think the Illusive Man is putting too many of his eggs in the Adversity basket, but he seems absolutely sure Adversity will succeed. What's he basing this on? Or is it just the idea of having a weapon so powerful that it could effectively render the Reaper husks irrelevant? Is that what he thinks this is? The answer to the husk?_

In the end, he knew the answer before he even came to the conclusion. If Adversity did produce results soon, and they deployed this new weapon as part of Operation Invincible...it would not only be a field test but, hopefully, would prove Cerberus' grasp of Reaper technology. With a final exhale, he reached down and tapped at his terminal, bringing up the comm line for the Project Adversity labs. They were several levels below HQ, in a secured vault to ensure the Talons weren't aware of it, and so their attacks couldn't reach it even if they did. He waited for a few seconds for the call to patch through, before he then heard the female voice of Adversity's chief scientist, Abigale Rowan.

"General Petrovsky," she greeted, her subtle Scandinivian accent just barely picked up by his ears, "We were not expecting a check in from you for some time."

 _I haven't done so for months. Her surprise is...understandable. I just hope some progress has been made between then and now, for the sake of the station and theirs. The Illusive Man is hard pressed to accept failure, especially during such apocalyptic circumstances as the ones we find ourselves in._ "Recent events have revitalized my interest, Doctor Rowan. And given that my last request for an update was submitted in December, and received in early January, I would expect July to yield much more likeable results."

Abigale seemed unfazed by his subtle disapproval of the project, instead replying as if she was reading off a script she had been preparing. The General could almost imagine her standing before her intercom, reading off a datapad, "Admittedly, our last monthly report was...less than feasible. Test subjects are ever so hard to come by, I understand, and we have tried our best to ensure the men sacrificed to bring these specimens to us have not died in vain. The longevity of the test subjects remain our top priority, and we've managed to retain four of the original five."

Petrovsky nodded, happy for that at least, but annoyed at Rowan's evasion of answering his question.  _This does not bode well._ "While I am ever so happy to hear of this Doctor Rowan, it ultimately does not answer my query. Has Adversity succeeded in some respect? Do we have something to field test? Time is of the essence here, doctor."

Rowan exhaled deeply over the comm, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before stating, clearly and crisply, what her science team had achieved, "You may be surprised to hear this, but...yes. We do. Or, at least, we soon will. After months of research, Adversity has finally paid off. However, it is not entirely because of our own brain trust. Outside help from Keyhold has significantly upped our progress. Condensed months of work into just a couple of weeks, actually."

"Keyhold?" Petrovsky asked, frowning, "I've heard this term before. Elaborate?"  _I've heard it one too many times, in fact. Yet another thing the Illusive Man is keeping from me?_

Rowan was not forthcoming, "I'm sorry General, but that's classified. Besides, I could not tell you Keyhold's true purpose for even I was not privledged with that information. All I know is that the research they passed down has given us the key to truly making Adversity succeed. At this rate, we'll have four working prototypes by tomorrow, ready for inspection and introduction into the Cerberus army."

The General held up a hand to stall her, knowing she couldn't see it, "Steady, doctor. I will not be allowing these...things...into my forces until I know for certain they can be controlled with 100 percent certainty. I've lost entire platoons to these abominations...I need integrity, and I intend to observe it before even contemplating their use."

"Of course, General. I would never reasonably suggest deployment without observation," Rowan replied almost cynically, "Like I said, prototypes will be ready for inspection by tomorrow. If you wish to call for an inspection then, we will be more than happy to accomodate you. Should we alert the Illusive Man?"

He hesitated for a moment, furrowing his brow.  _No. For once, I'm going to analyze this project without his permission. I will not be left in the dark any longer. I will see what fruit this project has bared, and I will do so without him knowing about it. See what he thinks so secretive that his own military commander shouldn't be aware of it._ "Yes, I will inform him personally. As for your science team, have them ready the lab by the time of our arrival."

"Our, sir?" Rowan asked, confused, "You're not coming alone? You understand this is a breach of protocol?"

 _Protocol has me cut off from my armies. For once, to hell with protocol._ "I will get it sanctioned. Besides, the men I bring with me are of the Illusive Man's right hand: his best agents. He will approve their presence most graciously, I am sure."  _At least, I would hope so. It would appear everything is classified, even on my own station and command post. What is he hiding?_

"Very good, sir," Rowan replied, "We will make preparations once tonight's experiments have concluded. Good day, General." The comm line then cut on her end, leaving Petrovsky to ponder what he had heard. Soon, the horrors of Adversity would finally be brought to his attention, and he would be able to see exactly what this project had been aiming to do. For all the men he lost to attain those specimens...dozens of good, decent, brave men and women...

...it had better be worth it.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_1433 hours._

_Abrams & Heplorn Clinic, Gozu District, The Apex, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Doctor Daniel Abrams._

It was just another day on the job on the Cerberus occupied Omega.

It was really just...that. Another day on the job. There wasn't much else to call it really. He could call it another shitty day under an oppressive regime where his freedoms and liberties were repressed, his omni-tool tapped and watched 24/7, and every street corner he walked around guarded by at least a couple of assault troopers. He could complain about guns being pointed in his face, being intimidated and beaten by power-abusing soldiers, witnessing ethnic cleansing of an entire city blocks as the result of commanders on a standard power trip. Cerberus banners draped from every rooftop, the fear of the people...

But...was that really accurate? When he thought about it, truly thought about it, Omega was actually better than it was. Before, it might have actually  _been_ all those things. Blue Suns protection rackets knocking on everyday, demanding fees and those who couldn't pay up either being left to die, beaten to death or robbed. Omni-tools being tapped by digital and tech-based pick pockets looking to make easy credits. Vorcha looking to beat up whatever poor bastard was stupid enough to walk around alone at night. Hell, just last year, a plague like no other had ravaged this very district, almost wiping out an entire population within a week. It had almost been the Black Death of Omega. All of these issues were no longer a problem...

Okay, he had to admit, coming across soldiers at every corner was pretty annoying, especially when they seemed to watch every move you made. Sure, seeing golden hexagons planted on almost every square inch of space they could find was a sight that created sore eyes. And it was pretty embarassing, as a human, to have to walk around a district that had been so ravaged by, seemingly, pro-human attacks in the past: first a "human" engineered plague, and now a pro-human occupation.

But when he seriously took a look around, he realized Omega was safer than it had ever been under T'Loak. No murders or rapes waiting around each street corner. No bodies burnt in the streets. No population-ending plagues. Protection rackets or extortion. No poverty. No sickness. No destruction. No turf wars or firefights. Cerberus put an end to all of that. So while the galaxy called them the equivalent of Space Nazis...on Omega, they were the equivalent of...well, whatever was the exact opposite of that.

He finished typing at his datapad, placing it gently back down on the desk, before looking back up at his patient, beaming a large, proud smile. His patient, an elderly man looking to be in his one hundred and thirties, sat opposite him. Abrams' office had once been that of Mordin Solus, but had since been cut in half, with the other side occupied by Maelon Heplorn, Daniels partner and who of which he was sharing ownership of the clinic. His office was pretty sparse, with just a simple desk, a basic, low-end terminal with the bare minimum for operating software, and a few more odds and ends: a stack of datapads, a Commander Shepard figurine that his five-year-old son had left him as a momento of sorts, and a worklight that hung over him. There was also a bowl seated neatly at the edge of his desk, half full with plastic wrapped lollies. A medbed sat in the corner next to the door, as well as a wash basin with several cabinets full of medical equipment. It was all standard stuff for a clinic...none of it was hospital grade, but it was enough for rudimentary, simple medical advice and attention.

The old man before him had been having heart problems of late, and Abrams had done what he could for him, but his history of strokes and heart attacks were growing persistent. The man was loaded with very expensive medical implants, ranging from the basic pacemaker to lung filters. It was certainly prolonging the man's lifespan longer than that of a similar case in the 21st century, but that's all it was doing: delaying the inevitable. The man was on his last legs, and pretty soon Abrams would have to submit him to hospital. Of course, all he could do now was ease his shortening lifespan with the odd pill or implant inspection.

"You're doing just fine, Mr. Beavter," Daniel assured him, opposing what his medical knowledge actually knew to be truth and what to be fiction. Of course, he couldn't outright tell the man he was going to die: he knew that enough himself. No need to be the constant reminder that Death was coming to claim him within the next week or two, "Although I'm sad to admit this might be our last check up. Your cardiovascular condition has advanced too far for me to be of any further service to you. You will need to make arrangements among your family. I'm so sorry."

The man shook his head, eyes narrowed perputually and wrinkled skin flaky. The man looked so fragile that a gust of wind would blow him apart like autumn leaves. It was thanks to the miracles of Sirta Foundation medical technologies that had allowed for him to even live this long, with the average human lifespan increased to a totality of 150. Mr. Beavter was a very healthy example of a human being, and one who had lived a full life. Two wives, five children, a degree in radiology...not to mention the man had lived through the final years of the 21st century...he had suffered through the restructuring of the global political arena, the discovery on Mars, the war with the turians, the introduction into the galactic community, the brief war with the batarians, the brief war with the geth, the invasion of the Reapers, the fall of Earth, the fall of Omega, the rise of Cerberus, and the coming galactic apocalypse...to say the man had lived a full life would be a gross euphemism.

"Don't be, doc. You've done your best," Beavter's voice was shaky and mild, but managed to remain well mannered and collected, "I knew this day would come. Besides, only family I have now are my three kids...one of them joined Cerberus just a few years ago. I hope she's alright," he seemed saddened by that statement, but didn't reflect on it very long, "...another is in the Alliance. I just hope they never end up fighting each other...family should never kill each other. The only child of mine not in a military is my boy, Jameson...he's a store owner, in the Kima District. I'll put in a good word. You've taken good care of me, doc."

Daniel smiled, watching as the man began to slowly, and carefully, bring himself to stand, "It is my duty to bring no harm to my patients, Mr. Beavter. It is the Hippocratic Oath," he stood, reaching out one hand. Beavter took it and shook it gently, as if afraid he had Vrolik's syndrome, and that his bones would break if too much force was applied, "Nonetheless, you've been a good patient. I quite enjoyed the conversations we've had about...well, everything. You're a very insightful, man."

He noticed Mr. Beavter's eyes drawn to the figurine on his desk. It hadn't been there long: his son had bought it for him months ago, just after the Cerberus occupation began. Daniel looked down at it, finding himself enamoured by it. It wasn't particularly remarkable...it was the form of Shepard himself, clad in HYPERION-107 Special Forces N7 armor sans the helmet, straightened and saluting, not a single weapon on his body. His face was pulled into a grin...obligatory for a kid's toy. His son had been given it for his birthday, but for some reason, had left it on his desk after his wife came to check up on him. He had returned it, but the next day, there it was again. He finally realized after the third time that his son had given it to him...a good luck charm, maybe?

Daniel remembered the last time he had seen the man himself in the flesh. It hadn't been all that long ago, really, "I met him once. Commander Shepard. Not over extranet link, or through a comm buoy...I met him, face to face."

This seemed to pique Beavter's interest. Daniel knew because he remained silent, eyes silently regarding the doctor, willing him to continue. He did sat down, hands gripping the edges of his desk as he just looked at the figurine, drinking in its features, eyes blurring as he momentarily lost focus, "It was during the plague outbreak, just last year. He rescued me from a bunch of batarians who thought I was spreading the plague...you know the paranoia that spread through Gozu," he remembered it vividly. He had soiled his pants, afraid the three batarians would put a bullet in his head and leave him to rot. Then he'd berated Professor Solus for being so ruthless, so uncaring, so cold in regards to this thoughts of simply killing them. What a stupid, naive fool he had been...

"I couldn't believe it," his hands ran up and down his legs, suddenly nervous as he recollected that day, "The man just...talked them down. He talked sense into them, and they let me go. I wanted to help them, but Professor Solus just wanted to kill them...to gun them down. Said they were a threat. I told him doctors help people. It's in the Hippocratic Oath. We will never harm," Daniel just chuckled, tapping the desk idly now, "But he wasn't your typical doctor: he was special forces. STG. I remember what he told me, and while I resented him at first, I've come to except what he said as the truth."

Beavter's voice croaked, ever so curious, "And that was?"

"Sometimes heal patients, and sometimes execute dangerous people," he looked up, meeting Beavter's eyes, "Either way helps. Guess he had a point, right? There's only so many people you can heal before you reach one who just wants to kill you. Then what do you do? You can't break the Hippocratic Oath, but in a way, if you don't, you'll be dead and it won't matter if you harmed them or not. Only the innocent deserve to live, Mr. Beavter. I consider you a good person."

 _Was I to know those batarians who tried to kill me would execute one of my co workers just for offering them medicine? I probably could have, but I had to be noble. Just. Solus saw it. Shepard must have seen it at Bahak if he blew up an entire star system over it_. He regarded the figurine one last time, sighing as he turned away.  _Those we idiolize, ten times out of ten, never end up being who we thought they were. I thought Solus was a benevolent doctor...and my son thought Shepard was a shining paragon. Ah, the lies we feed ourselves to make the bite of truth less painful._

Mr. Beavter nodded, "If only the innocent deserve to live, then why is Cerberus still here? Why has my daughter joined them?"

Daniel couldn't answer that, simply gawking at the man. He couldn't even muster an actual reciprocal goodbye as the man turned and left, only managing a pathetic grunt as he just sat there, blankly staring at the air where Mr. Beavter had stood moments before.

_Cerberus made the dangerous people go away, but in reality, they are the dangerous people. They just got rid of the thugs with guns and replaced them with professionals with guns. Only difference is they know how to aim better._

Just as he broke free of his trance, reaching down to grab the datapad before him, the door opened, with the familiar form of a salarian in a white labcoat stepping through, datapad under arm and eyes darting along the lines of text lining his omni-tool.

"Maelon," Daniel greeted with a restrained carelessness, rubbing his eyes. He had been working late hours, and was barely ever able to see his son or wife because the former was at school and the other worked at the relief shelter set up in the old Suri-Kara hotel in the Kima district. With noone to keep him in check, he was free to work himself to death...as the cot behind his desk, and the line of light stubble lining his otherwise youthful face accompanied with red rings under his eyes, atested to.

Daniel had followed Mordin's advice: he took control of the clinic as he requested, and he managed it pretty well, he liked to think. Then, a month later, this salarian doctor, Maelon Heplorn, turns up at his clinic, asking for a job, listing a large dossier of medical specialties, accompanied by a bitter, but remorseful, taste in his mouth. Of course, Daniel had accepted, not knowing until afterwards that they both had dealings with Mordin Solus. Of course, just under a year later, and Maelon would find himself both saddened and pleasantly surprised when reports of Solus' death were filtered through the comm band, bringing news of the genophage being cured. Daniel would never forget that look on his face. It was of pride.

"Daniel," Maelon replied, grabbing the datapad from under his arm and tossing it onto his desk. He crossed his arms, omni-tool evaporating. He did  _not_ look happy, "Explain this."

Daniel knew what to expect, because he knew exactly what Maelon was here for. He craned his head in pretend however, acting as if he was actually reading the contents. He sighed, leaning back in exasperation, "You have got to be kidding me...another stash of morphine and medi-gel has gone missing?" Daniel knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he had little choice.

Maelon narrowed his eyes, "I know what you're doing, Daniel," Maelon snatched up the datapad, before bracing his arms against the desk. Despite being more slender in frame and, in comparison to Daniel, nowhere near as muscular, the salarian could look intimidating. His voice was lowered, just low enough that only Daniel could hear him, "Just know that if Cerberus finds out, we'll be in serious trouble. Aiding and abetting known terrorist elements is a criminal offense, regardless of who you stand for."

Daniel just rolled his eyes, voice lowered to a whisper out of suspicion. Cerberus was capable of anything, including bugging offices, "I've been doing this for several months, Maelon...do you think I'd have lasted this long if I was sluggish? I've snuck out medical supplies before. I know what I'm doing. Besides, I'm doing what's necessary. Nobody in inventory notices if a few medi-gel packets or morphine goes missing...they'll barely know what happened."

Maelon looked at him incredulously, "You will not involve me in this fight. You may think you're somekind of courageous good guy, but one day, you'll slip us, and we'll both pay for it. Let's just hope you don't."

Daniel cocked his head, narrowing his own eyes, "If I get captured, I won't name you. However, if I find out you sold me out, Maelon..."

The salarian laughed, rubbing his temples. He looked back at the human before him, before laughing again. He lapsed back to a whisper, voice amused, "Do you honestly think I'd tell them? I'm a  _salarian._ They're  _pro-human._ You think I'm going to sell you out to them? They're more likely to side with you in the end and just gun me down. Besides, they're  _assholes_  and I wouldn't mind watching them burn. But that's it: I want to  _watch_ , not be  _involved_."

Daniel just chuckled, annoyed by the salarian's antics, "You know, for former STG, you sure are awfully quick to jump from a fight."

Maelon shook his head, straightening his back as he clasped his hands behind him, "Turn the other cheek to, not jump from. Do not mistake my distaste for combat as cowardice. I know how to handle myself, and I've had my fair share of combat. I fought on the frontlines at the Battle of Virmire three years ago. I was in the middle of a warzone on Tuchanka just last year. I've lost my appetite. Not all of us can be as steeled as Mordin was, or as...matured as you are."

Daniel nodded, unable to refute his comment. Daniel had indeed matured: gone was the naive boy of a man who had believed in the goodness of people, and in the cleanliness of his profession. He had gotten married, had a child, seen the affects of naivete and how it got people killed...seen the worst organic life had to offer. He had sobered up to reality, and seen the effects of it. He grew up, tossed away whatever childish notions he had of the real world, and acknowledged that such notions didn't belong on Omega. He even had Maelon teach him how to hold a gun...in case he ever did get caught.

Mordin had changed his life forever. At first, he resented him...now he thanked him for it.

_If only he was alive so I could tell him that in person. He died for what he believed in...he did something about it. If what I do helps me develop what I believe in, and I manage to spark a revolution, I'll have done something more than just quote the Hippocratic Oath and lecture soldiers about goodness and love and acceptance and all that crap. If Maelon wants out, whatever. I don't care. I'm just here to end the bad and bring some less bad._

After a bit, when Daniel hadn't answered or responded to Maelon's comment, the salarian doctor pulled back, regarding him sadly, "Look...I can tell I'm not going to talk you out of this. If you believe you're doing the right thing, I can't stop you. Well, I tried to cure the genophage and allied myself with krogan imperialists...so I can't call myself a saint. But if you're going to do this, don't drag me into it. This war isn't ours to get involved in."

Daniel shook his head, feeling a yawn building in the pit of his windpipe, "Omega claims you, Maelon. The moment you step foot on this station...it owns you. This isn't the Citadel, or Earth, or Sur'Kesh...this station is mean, it's harsh, and it'll kill you. It involves you...and when somebody comes along and tells you you're going to live under a military dictatorship...well, people who can do something about it have got to act," he leaned closer, tone lower than it had ever been since the start of their conversation, "This war belongs to all of us. The Talons fight to free this station from Petrovsky. Their fight is ours."

Maelon just scoffed, "I'm beginning to think the Talons are losing. Cerberus has been kinder to us than T'Loak ever was. Call it a dictatorship, but I'd prefer it to the anarchy we had before. No longer have to carry a gun around with me whenever I walk to the corner store," his eyes flicked to the figurine on Daniel's desk, before meeting his eyes again, "Although I hear the Talons are the least of Cerberus' problems now...the real war has finally reached our doorstep."

Daniel stood from his chair, grabbing the coat wrapped around his chair and putting it on, buttoning it up as he replied, "Yeah, well as long as it stays away from Gozu, I don't much care. Let the UGC and Cerberus fight it out. I'm more interested in the fact that Shepard himself appears to be leading their forces. You usually only see him when history's about to be made or the UGC wants a battle won really badly. They must really want Omega."

"It's gotten pretty serious," Maelon stated, eyes tracing Daniel as the man pulled open his desk draw, pulling out several packets of medi-gel and morphine and placing it into his inner coat pockets. The salarian showed visible disapproval, but Daniel didn't bother to acknowledge him, hoping he would eventually just drop the topic altogether. He did, at least for now, continuing his previous statement, "I was watching the news before. They've evacuated the entire Rubicon quadrant. Nobody knows what happened, all we know is that Cerberus deployed two regiments to that area, and so far, they haven't returned. And Petrovsky appears to be mobilizing everything he has to deal with them. Looks like the game's completely changed."

Daniel just shook his head, zipping up his inner coat before beginning to walk towards the door. Maelon followed him, matching him step for step, "Yeah...two regiments disappear, and they just happen to evacuate that area afterwards? Sounds like a defeat to me...maybe those forces got wiped out. And if the reports are true, then perhaps that fleet of his is gone too...if they weren't, how did the UGC get here? Seems like our dictator got more than he bargained for. Talons have been offering bug bites...looks like the UGC just tore off an entire limb. Good."

Walking out of Daniel's office, the two of them swerved left, walking down the corridor towards the clinic's entrance. Maelon's secretary brushed past him towards his office reception area, carrying a datapad in one hand and drinking from a cup of steaming hot tea. He apologized hurriedly, looking desperate to get out of the salarian's way so he could return to work.

Maelon grabbed his shoulder, three fingers gripping it tightly and willing him to stop. He didn't, shrugging it off as he continued his approach towards the entrance. He turned right at the reception area, finally reaching the door. Maelon shouted at him, no longer at his side, waiting at the other end of the reception chamber, causing him to stop and turn to him. The salarian's arms were crossed.

"You..." in that moment, Maelon realized where he was, both of them noting the six awaiting patients sitting in the chairs beside him. A male human teenager was reading off a datapad from what looked like an nine month old Issue 106 of Skycar Blitzers, an older fifty year old human woman tapped idly at her omni-tool, a twenty year old salarian man was playing a game of solitaire on his omni-tool, an asari was asleep, a batarian woman had her arms crossed and stared at a wall, and an asian man had wireless headphones in his ear, head bobbing away to whatever music he listened to. Suddenly noting their company, Maelon tapped the asian man on his shoulder, grabbing his attention. Removing his headphones, the techno beats blared across the room, "I will see you now." He glared at Daniel, before starting off back down the hall, the small asian man following him, tapping at his omni-tool to switch off his music, ending the cacophonus noise.

Daniel sighed, turning back to the door. He was about to tap the interface when he caught the holographic propaganda poster on the wall to his left out of the corner of his eye. Looking at it, the image of an angry Talon turian baring down on a defenseless Omega civilian while a Cerberus soldier leapt to the rescue always annoyed him. It was even more ironic given the civilian was an asari.

_Cerberus stands for humanity, not aliens. Omega will never be its priority. We're a means to an end. That's why the Talons have to win. There can be no other way. And if my medicine helps them...all the better._

Finally tapping the interface, he made down the hallway towards the flight of stairs leading up to the main Gozu streets. A glowing, orange sign hung on the wall to his left: it used to say 'Solus Clinic', but now it simply said 'Gozu Clinic', given the salarian's departure. It had been ragtag from the beginning, Mordin only ever putting up the sign on Daniel's insistence.

There just like before, ther was a security checkpoint to the immediate left: a small room with a terminal, DNA scanner, several cameras, a small armoury and, of course, several troopers to man it. Before the plague, Blue Suns mercenaries had manned it. During the plague, LOKI mechs and, occassionally, Mordin himself. Now...Cerberus.

He knew them well. A Cerberus centurion manned the post, a pair of assault troopers in the back mostly either modifying their mattocks, chatting to one another or playing with their omni-tools. The centurion was always seated however, sitting behind the desk and tapping away at the terminal, keeping an eye on all arrivals and departures. He watched them like a hawk, and Daniel and Maelon couldn't so much as leave the clinic without a reason. And ever since the UGC made touchdown...he'd been even more strict. Gunnery Sergeant Logan Gale was a hardass, and a bit of an asshole, and Daniel really didn't like him.

As he crossed, the centurion appeared to notice him immediately, shouting out to him, "Halt, Dr. Abrams. Step back and state your business." His canadian accent was unidentifiable under all that electronic garble, voice filtered to the point of sounding robotic...all the Cerberus soldiers sounded like that, but Daniel just pinned it on being their helmet audio filters.

He sighed lightly, light enough that the sergeant didn't hear him. He stepped back, twisting exaggeratively to face the centurion, body slouched annoyingly as he glared back at the centurion. Sergeant Gale was fully aware that Daniel didn't like him, but he never looked like he actually gave a damn, meeting the doctor's glare with unrivalled intensity, the red eye slits only amplifying this.

"Standard fare, sergeant," Daniel droned, bored of this unnecessary formality, "Buying some pharmaceuticals from down the pharmacy down the street. A quick in and out, nothing fancy, you know the drill. We're out and need to restock."

He had said this countless times, but each time was tense. Each time felt like it dragged on forever, leaving Daniel afraid the centurion could see through his half lie...that he knew the truth, and would soon raise his rifle to kill Daniel or have his soldiers arrest him.

But he never did: this time was no different. The centurion shook his head disapprovingly, typing at his terminal and logging the departure down in his digital logbook, "You and Heplorn are going through those supplies a bit too quickly...you should both try to ration them. They don't come cheap. We need that medi-gel for our troops, and you're going through large amounts of it. I hope those patients really need it."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, "Different patients have different needs, sergeant. You want to be a doctor? Be my guest. If not, leave those decisions to me."

The centurion laughed bitterly, "Don't test me, Abrams. One word from the chain and I can have those supplies of yours seized and your entire clinic shut down. I might even have some Ramparts pay Heplorn a visit. Do not piss me off."

 _Our benevolent protectors, everyone._ Daniel just rolled his eyes, shrugging, "Yeah, whatever. Can I go now?"

Gale just turned away from him, returning to his terminal, "Yes. You know the protocol: don't make us regret giving you these privledges. Behave yourself, don't harass our troopers, and don't do anything criminal. A trooper approaches you, you respect and address their requirements. If you think you're being harassed, report them to me. You come across someone you think to be a Talon member, report them to me. If we find you've openly supported or joined the Talons, your privledges will be revoked, and you will be detained."

"Thanks for that," Daniel sarcastically retorted, waving his hands up, "I've only been told that a hundred times. Would you like to do an x-ray, too? Make sure I'm not secretly a husk wearing human skin?"

"Some people need reminding," Gale replied offhandedly, "Now if you're going to go, go. Don't waste anymore of my time with your childish antics. Just behave yourself."

 _Yeah, thanks for nothing._ He turned and walked off, away from the checkpoint and up the flight of stairs on the end to the left, quickly reaching the door at the top and exiting through it. The door shot open, and he promptly ignored the two Rampart mechs, wielding shotguns and stone still, flanking the door on the other side as he walked past them, hands in his pockets.

The Gozu District didn't look all that different than it had before T'Loak's exile, although with obvious new features. Gone were the bonfires and corpses littering the street during the plague: that had been long cleaned up and fixed up before Cerberus' invasion. The walls, once grimy and rotting away from lack of maintenance, were now cleaned up and stamped with Cerberus insignias, reminding people just who was responsible for the quality improvements, and who to thank.

The streets were surprisingly well adjusted. Even as he rounded the corner, heading right down Galiva Street. Species of almost every stripe, including even krogan and batarians, milled about, their presence far more persistent than it had ever been during T'Loak's reign: probably because noone was afraid of being shot dead anymore. As such, ruckus of a crowd was loud and deafening, muted only by the lack of overhead skycars due to the Gozu District's more sealed-off nature.

They weren't without the Cerberus patrols. Groups of a couple troopers patrolled the streets, their radios crackling occassionally as they talked to the rest of their unit or commanders. More common was the presence of the law enforcing Rampart mechs 'parked' on almost every single corner, a frozen sentinel only brought to action when crime was on the prowl.

As he walked down the street, he noticed to the side of a large apartment building a turian civilian was pinned against the wall, his back facing outwards and hands cuffed behind his back with omni-cuffs. One Cerberus assault trooper had him pinned, while a combat engineer scanned him with his omni-tool, likely pulling up his criminal record. Two more assault troopers were keeping a squared perimeter around them, making sure the crowd stayed away. The turian squirmed in the trooper's grip, but his augmented strength meant he easily overpowered the alien, subduing him with no effort.

Daniel ignored them, minding his own business. He just felt around the inner pockets of his jacket, as if to make sure the medi-gel and morphine he was, basically, smuggling was still there. He quickly pulled away, afraid somebody may notice him and bring about unneeded suspicion upon him. He just mingled with the people, careful to make himself look as normal and unremarkable as possible...totally unsuspicious.

It didn't take him long to reach the pharmacy...it was literally down the street, a couple blocks down. He strafed to the side, pulling himself up as he walked through the door. He immediately approached the reception, finding his eyes locking onto a particular human. He had auburn hair, ragged and untidy, his face baring numerous, small scars. His lips were small, nose jagged and eyes large. He was quite an ugly looking man really, but this meant he stood out...and Daniel recognized him as the man he was arriving to deal with.

There was only one other person behind the reception: an asari, who looked bored out of her mind, currently sorting through numerous pill bottles. A vidscreen sat ontop of a rag-tag desk, which was really just a bunch of boxes, with footage from the Cerberus News Network playing in the background.

Daniel tapped the counter, drawing the human's attention. He looked up, and upon seeing Daniel, he immediately turned to his asari co-worker, tapping her shoulder. Daniel waited, knowing the routine: he motioned to the doctor, and upon seeing him, the asari nodded and left, moving out into the store and pretending to check the shelves, while secretly watching the door.

Daniel turned back to the human, nodding.  _Okay...the usual then._ He opened his omni-tool and transmitted the necessary information to his own. The recipient's model pinged, and he opened it, bulbous eyes running through the contents. Nodding, he reached down and received the necessary supplies, before slipping them across the counter towards Daniel: a few packets of fake medi-gel and fake morphine. Happy, he snatched them up, placing them in his pockets.

"You've got it?" The human asked, his voice low and demanding.

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't," Daniel replied simply, opening his jacket and retrieving the real medi-gel and morphine and sliding it across towards the man, who snatched it up and quickly hid it under the counter, out of sight. While he did this, Daniel's attention was snatched up by the news report, which was now broadcasting an address from General Petrovsky, the man himself. He looked higher than life, completely undeterred by anything. Not even Cerberus' rumoured defeat or the sudden evacuation of the Rubicon looked to have any impact on him, talking with the same cold, battle hardened strength he had in every other report. Daniel couldn't tell what he was talking about, especially given the vidscreen was muted.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the man replied, leaning in and whispering with a nod, "When they occupy, it's time to unify."

"Occupy," Daniel replied. He had to whisper it, feeling that every time he said it he was committing a sort of secret blasphemy. After all, reciting the motto of the wartime Talons was tantamount to allying with them: a criminal offense. 'Unify' and 'occupy' were codewords used by the Talons to identify who was loyal to the Talons and who was an informant. It was actually a trick question: if you said 'occupy', you were with the Talons. If you said 'unify', you were shot on the spot: only a true Talon would know which word to actually say. Choosing 'unify' would be too obvious to Cerberus agents.

Turning away, he walked out of the pharmacy, making his way back to the clinic. He hadn't looked any more suspicious than he had entering the store, and those who saw him would just see another man buying medical supplies. In reality, he had just completed another successful smuggling operation with the Talons, gifted fake equivalents of what he sold them so as to not alert Cerberus: the fake stuff looked exactly like the real deal, it just didn't do anything, and was usually thrown out as soon as he got the chance.

Maelon may have been right. Perhaps he was playing with fire. But if he had any chance of helping the Talons win against Cerberus, he had to take it. Because he was certainly not going to raise his kid in a world run by these Cerberus assholes...not if he had anything to say about it.

Over his dead body.

**{Loading...}**

_August 6, 2186_

_0915 hours._

_Command Center, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Rubicon Campaign._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Battalion Commander Urdnot Grunt, Major Kaidan Alenko, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak, General Nyreen Kandros, Lieutenant Bray, Lieutenant Dreg, Lieutenant Ahz, Lieutenant Sata T'Loak._

Even as he read over the reports on his datapad regarding the battle, Marcus found himself slouching slightly against the war table, feeling woozy and ever so slightly dizzy from all the morphine running through him. There was just enough for him to concentrate whilst not being in excruciating amounts of pain, which was more than he could have claimed several minutes ago.

A battle that had felt like it had lasted several hours had only actually lasted close to one hour. An entire Cerberus army lay annihilated, four thousand troops butchered and cut down, dozens of their Atlases destroyed, and just over a hundred Rampart mechs neutralized. The assault had been costly for Cerberus, both in manpower, equipment and firepower, and it hadn't paid off. Not only had Petrovsky had a taste for the UGC's assault capabilities but he now, as an unwanted result, knew their full capacity. He may have been thoroughly and ruthlessly defeated, but what intelligence he gained meant the General would not make the same mistakes next time.

Regardless, the Battle of the Tuhi District was a massive UGC success. They managed to hold their own against a well equipped assault force supplemented by artillery, mechs and air support, but they, comparatively, suffered light casualties: the rachni probably lost the most troops, but employing the sort of 'swarm tactics' that they did, it likely meant very little. The mercenaries had been the next worst hit, losing almost all of their gunships, and the geth had lost two of their armatures, as well as a dropship. Again, by comparison, very light. Just over a hundred or so losses.

He rubbed his eyes, dropping the datapad on the table, moving to stretch his arms: big mistake. His broken arm immediately protested violently and angrily, flaring with pain and causing him to groan loudly as he cradled it, immediately regretting his instinctive reaction. The left arm hadn't been so despaired, but it still hurt to do anything considered to be impeding its healing process. As it was, his right arm was now cradled in a makeshift sling: a piece of torn cloth used to steady it. It would do for now until proper medical attention could reset the bone and allow his cybernetics to do the rest: he would be fine by tomorrow if he got treatment soon.

He wasn't alone in the room: Aria hadn't yet returned from the battlefield, and nor had the majority of his squad: only Ahz, Sata, Nyreen, Zaal'Golo and Garrus were present, his turian friend there to watch over him and make sure he was okay: Marcus could understand his concern, as he had gotten the shit beaten out of him, but it was annoying to have Tali treating him like a child everytime he got injured, and he certainly didn't need Garrus doing it too. As for the others, Nyreen and Sata looked to be exchanged in hushed, quiet banter, sharing a few laughs, likely at Aria's expense. Ahz just paced, constantly glancing down at his omni-tool as if he was practicing for a school play. Whatever he was doing, it must have been important, the salarian's face hardset and focused. Golo just quietly talked to himself, likely going over several ideas in his head.

"You okay, Marcus?" the turian asked, likely in response to the captain's sudden groan. He nodded quietly, offering no further answer other than that, not wanting to give Garrus anymore incentive to coddle him. Given what the marksman knew of his human commander, he likely picked up on this lack of vocal feedback and summarily dropped the topic, instead picking up the datapad he had so unceremoniously discarded to look over the statistics on it.

His mandibles twitched after a moment of silent contemplation, followed by a hum of approval, "Well...our forces performed about as well as we could hope. Having you lead that counterattack definitely helped turn the tide of the battle. I have no idea what would have happened had we waited. But we won...so I guess that's what matters. Should we inform Hackett and the rest of the UGC Galactic Command?"

Marcus shook his head, "I don't want to talk with him again until I can tell, and show, that I have Omega squared away. He needs to hear that we've won total victory, not just a quarter of it. We need to keep pushing Garrus. The next offensive has to be ours. We can't let Cerberus attack again."

"Completely agreed," Garrus replied, shrugging, "But there's no harm in acknowledging what we've won  _here_. I thought you'd be glad."

"I am," he sighed, cocking his head, "I'm just sick of Cerberus getting the jump on us. We need to bite back. We're full of surprises too, and we need to find a definitive weakness we can exploit. So far, getting rid of those forcefields should be top priority. Those are the key to his entire operation here, both civilian and military. He'd be at a significant disadvantage without them."

Before the turian could even respond, the doors behind them, leading to the forward loading bay, opened, followed by the sounds of multiple footsteps as people began to enter the room. The group turned, watching as Aria stormed into the room, Dreg and Bray hot on her heels, moving up towards the war table, where Sata and Nyreen suddenly cut the chatter and straightened up. Ahz had since stopped pacing, deactivating his omni-tool as he raced back to his terminal, looking as if he had been caught doing other than his work.

On the other side, Tali walked inside, Kaidan and Grunt not far behind her. Kaidan's armor was caked with dried blood and bits of flesh and guts, his equally dirty helmet pinned under one arm. Grunt was even dirtier, although Marcus had a feeling his armor wouldn't be getting cleaned tonight: as a krogan, he probably saw his bloodied armor as a sort of battle trophy. He met Marcus' eyes and grinned, before moving off to the side and plopping himself down on the ground, leaning his head back and...promptly falling asleep. The human spectre couldn't even spare the energy to be surprised.

His eyes locked with Tali's, and in an instant, he knew exactly what was coming, bracing for it. No doubt she'd heard of his injuries, of the situation he had been caught in, and-

"You  _stupid_ ,  _idiotic_ ,  _moronic_ ,  _foolish_ ,  _irresponsible_ ,  _immature_ ,  _macho_ ," each word was punctuated succintly as she approached, Garrus taking a step back and joining Kaidan as they watched with some amusement. Her fists clenched, the quarian closed the distance before quickly punching him in the chest repeatedly, albeit lightly to keep from actually hurting himself further. Just as she opened her mouth to finish her sentence, he opened his, and together, as if reading each other's minds, they spoke in unison.

"Bosh'tet."

Tali sighed, taking his use of her favourite curse word as a sign hew had known she would berate him, and was fully prepared for it. Finally, her hands landed on her hips, eyes appraising him, "Damn it, Mark...a broken arm, a shot shoulder, a broken nose, bruised face...and I hear you could have  _died_? Why didn't you tell someone?" she waved at Garrus behind her, "What about Garrus? I thought we were beyond this! We're supposed to be a team! You can't just wonder off and-"

"Tali, I know. God all fucking mighty, I know," he stated, "I've already punished myself for it. Garrus has already hounded me on it. I get the bloody point. I made a mistake...I fucked up. I saw Leng, and I couldn't let him escape. I gave chase, and I failed to let anybody know, thus almost leading me to my death...I should be glad a few broken bones is all I got out of it. But please...don't keep hounding me about it. It won't be happening again. A tactical error on my part."

"You're damn right it won't happen again," Tali stated, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at him, "From now on, you'll tell us before you go running off...and you'll bring at least two people with you. We can't afford to lose you."

His thoughts trailed back to what he had been thinking in what he originally thought to be his last minutes, and he regarded them with some amusement. They had been like a last minute confession...only it was a confession to himself. Still, the words hung true, and he still believed them.  _You don't need me. You never did. But can I actually tell her that? She may be my wife, but she still looks up to me as some kind of mentor figure. Can I really shatter that perception for her?_

He nodded, "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

Tali nodded, reaching up and wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He just sighed with some relief as he let his head rest on her shoulder, "I'm just glad you're alright...and that those two bosh'tets got the ass-kicking they deserved. I hear I have a certain asari pirate queen and a turian resistance general to thank for saving you."

Tali pulled away after a minute, and he gave her a single nod. She understood its meaning, knowing that now wasn't the time for heart-to-hearts, and that they needed to get back to work. The two of them turned away from each other to face the war table, with Aria patiently waiting on the other side, looking beyond impressed.

"Well, you got your first taste for battle with Cerberus, Aria," Marcus declared, wincing.

"And what a battle it was!" Dreg added, slamming a fist down on the table, "We obliterated their regiments...as I told you Aria, Cerberus can be beaten," he turned to face Marcus, nodding with increased impression, "And you Shepard...you delivered on the hype...you truly lived up to expectations. That counterattack had to have been devised by somebody with a quad. We placed a lot of cards on the table and it paid off. But now isn't the time to celebrate."

"Exactly," Marcus stated, wincing once again as he straightened up, still feeling tired and dizzied, "Petrovsky won't spend time mourning the dead, either. He'll be regrouping and reassessing. He'll have gained enough intelligence to know what we're capable of, so using the rachni and geth as a surprise deck is no longer an option. He also isn't the kind of man to make the same mistake twice: he won't come at us again, not until he knows he has us in a position he can absolutely control. A general who has been defeated is one who's at his most dangerous, especially if he's as brilliant as Petrovsky. We'll need to plan our next move very carefully. Suffice to say, we can't just attack."

"We've created a golden opportunity to strike," Aria replied, clearly disagreeing with his point of view, "He's staggered by defeat, and like you said, will need to regroup. I say we don't give him the chance...if we mobilize now, we can have troops besieging Afterlife within the hour. We can breach the compound, kill Petrovsky and his governors, and end this thing once and for all. I'll kill the smug fuck myself."

"Yeah, and then his army will sweep around, encircle us and completely destroy us before we can even breach Afterlife," Garrus snarkily commented, snorting, "Yeah, wicked plan, Aria."

Golo intervened, nodding as he joined the conversation, "We need to consolidate our forces and wait for a moment of opportunity, Aria. I will not throw my troops at Afterlife until I know a path has been cut through. Besides, even if he doesn't have his army encircle us, he's still got those forcefields. Switch them on, and he'll have us trapped. Completely at the mercy of his bombers, and in a perfect position to be bombed to oblivion by artillery. We'd practically paint a bullseye on ourselves."

"We'll wait," Marcus declared. His eyes locked with Aria, and the asari locked hers with his, "We have to. We've won a great victory here, Aria: let that be enough. Petrovsky will lick his wounds, but he'll know we've defeated him. For now, we need to find a way to win this with minimal contact. We can't ever hope to take him head on. He outnumbers us entirely."

A gentle hand grasped Aria's shoulder, and the asari angrily snapped her head around to look at Sata, who genuinely looked concerned, "Mother, listen to Shepard: you brought him here to lead for this reason. If he thinks we need to approach this cautiously, then we should do what he says."

Aria nodded, exhaling deeply before nodding again, this one far more final and obligatory. A surprising sign of concession from the asari, "Yes, right. Okay," she turned back to Marcus, lips set in a firm line, clearly not happy about having to admit she was wrong, "Then do we do next? As you've said, Petrovsky most likely knows what we're capable of now. He will be far more restrained, correct?"

Marcus nodded, "Well, I can't predict the man one hundred percent, but if he's as smart as you say he is, then I would say so. My main question is just how the hell did Cerberus find this bunker so quickly?" he directed this question at Aria, eyebrows raised, "You said this facility would be so obvious as to be ignored, at least for a while. Petrovsky found us almost immediately. We've been here the grand total of a night and he's already engaged us. And now that he knows where we are, he'll be watching us like a hawk."

Aria shrugged, "Again, Petrovsky's a smart man...it's also possible he had scouts follow us. You know, nosey assholes."

Kaidan nodded, coming to stand on Marcus' right, "Makes sense. Considering the cloaks on those phantom-class units, they could have trailed us quietly back to our base and reported back what they found. Explains why they also seemed to know where to counter us. They had their entire right flank secured before we even made that counterattack."

Marcus gritted his teeth, shaking his head.  _They could be watching us right now and we wouldn't know. Shit._ "Well, I say we fight fire with fire," he turned to General Golo, nodding, "I want as many of your men equipped with cloaks and spread out across the quadrant: I want hourly updates on what troops they come across, their grid location, if they have barracks nearby, etc. If they're planning an assault, I want to know about that too. No more fucking surprises. They caught us with our pants down this time: I want to be there when they're in that position next time."

The quarian general, arms crossed, gave a slight tilt of his head in acknowledgement, "I'll get to it, captain. Geth, being the perfect ambushers they are, will be perfect for the job: I'll have them outfitted with tactical cloaks as soon as possible. They'll be out within the hour."

"That's all good and all, but need I point out just how close we came to being overrun recently?" Nyreen pointed out, bringing all eyes in the room to her. She stood with her arms braced against the table, her own eyes darting from Golo to Aria and finally landing on Marcus himself. Waiting for her to elaborate, the female turian took that moment to continue, standing up and straightening her back with the same military stoicism that he expected from somebody who served in the Hierarchy's special forces, "We need to focus on accumulating some cold, hard wins. If we get 'caught with our pants down' next time," she used quotations, clearly finding herself at odds with the odd human expression, "Cerberus will throw everything they have at it. I've seen it. When one of his colonels finds one of my people's holdouts, they bombard it as soon as they learn of it. Cerberus don't wait. Their response time is immaculate, and from what I've heard, Petrovsky, being Russian, knows how much brute force to apply before a guerilla war becomes a slaughter. It is the same here."

Tali, to his surprise, was the one to pipe up, hands clasped behind her back, "General Kandros is correct. We wait here and spend time planning what to do next, he'll strike first, and it'll be fast and hard. He knows what we're capable of, so he'll be sure to send everything he can next time, and I don't think we can survive another assault. We need another way to end this."

"And I mean  _end it_ ," Nyreen complimented, continuing with Tali's point almost as if the two were in sync with each other, "Right now, once and for all. This war goes for any longer and it'll become a battle of attrition: Petrovsky is a master of attrition. He'll win, and not only will you be left with nothing, but the Talons will be left without allies once more. My men have fought long and they serve me faithfully, but it won't be long before they capitulate. I lost an entire chapter in this very district only a month ago. All of them surrendered. No surprise, Petrovsky showed them clemency and let them reintegrate with society. If we lose...the Talons will be finished. I refuse to let that happen."

A smile graced Aria's lips, the pirate queen looking thoroughly smug, "Oh, so you admit we must win this quickly? So if my plan wasn't good enough, what is?"

Nyreen just shook her head, this time looking hesitant. Almost...reluctant, "I...there is only one plan that will work, and it's one we've previously discussed. If we want to truly mount an assault, those forcefields need to go. Every single one. Not one of them can be left active."

Aria was surprised at that...so was Marcus. After all, it had been Nyreen who had so firmly opposed the idea. Especially given what the forcefields also held back..."I thought you were against that idea?"

"I was against the idea of  _going down there_ ," Nyreen almost audibly gulped, sounding largely terrified at the idea, "But...I've thought it over. There really isn't an alternative. Every other battle scenario will result in our eventual defeat: we simply can't fight a sustained ground war with Petrovsky: even with Talon support, you'll be hard pressed to secure even marginal victories. But if those force fields are gone...he'll have to compensate for their absence. And that gives us the advantage. We could be marching on Afterlife before his forces could mobilize quickly enough. The war would be over in a day."

"Yes...she has a point," Aria stated, stroking her chin in thought. Eventually, she nodded, slamming a fist into the table for emphasis, "Yes, and with the fields down, we could make our advance even easier with some...encouragement among the local populace. I could make a few propaganda videos. Ahz will hack into their network, and spread my message to the people. Cerberus will have so many riots on their hands that they won't be able to acknowledge us. I'd like to see Petrovsky fight us  _and_ Omega."

Before Marcus could even open his mouth to discourage how crazy the idea was, Nyreen had already jumped in, although with far more anger and viciousness than he would have. Her hands gripped the table tightly, her glare hot enough to metaphorically melt steel, "You most certainly will  _not._ Those are just civilians! Most of them have no combat experience, and will be defenseless against a well equipped Cerberus army! They'll be slaughtered!"

Aria held up her hands defensively, although looking none too surprised at the turian's reaction. It's almost like she was deliberating antagonizing her at this point. Marcus could only roll his eyes at her childish antics, "Nyreen, don't be rash. This is Petrovsky we're talking about: he wouldn't lay a finger on the people of Omega: no, he would be forced to use non-lethal means to stop them, and that means we'll be free to move without much resistance. Half his army will have to redeployed to deal with those riots...perhaps even more."

The turian just scoffed, disgusted, "That's Petrovsky, Aria: what about his colonels? I remember Ashe: he didn't last long, but I know what he was like. Do you honestly think the governors are any different? If they get desperate enough they will kill innocent people. Children could get hurt. Innocent people will die, and for what? To give us a distraction?"

Aria nodded, "Well...yes. They'll be dying for the good of Omega. We must all do our part to liberate this station from these Cerberus cunts. If Petrovsky needs a wake up call, we shall give it to him. My speech will rile up the people and bring revolution. If a few die to save the many...so be it. But as long as Cerberus is evicted from my station, it'll be worth it."

The turian didn't even hesitate to answer, voice laced with disgust and contempt, "That's...sick. You would sacrifice people for your own selfish ambition? And you call that 'revolutionary'? You're not Tanculus...this isn't the Battle of Omega. You're a disgusting, ruthless  _bitch_ who's pissed off some human ousted her and as revenge is willing to step over the corpses of thousands just so she can play queen of her own pathetic little underworld while the rest of the galaxy burns."

Aria just smiled, "Oh, but you fucking love me. Otherwise, why would you, knowing what I am, lay with me? Choose to be with me?"

Nyreen just shook her head, "I  _used_ to. Then I grew up. Saw what you are. Now look at you. You stand there, ready to make sacrifice thousands, at the blink of the eye. No... _hesitation._ It's like you  _enjoy_ it."

Now Aria grew defensive. Like the rebel general had crossed a line, "I do  _not._ I gave these people  _freedom_ and I will give it  _back._ If some blood must be spilt, so be it, but never imply that I enjoy it! I will not-"

"This isn't for Omega, it's for yourself!" Nyreen spat back.

"I  _am_ Omega!" Aria snarled, the asari almost knocking Sata aside as she got right up in Nyreen's face, the turian female barely flinching.

"You  _were_ Omega!" She retorted, eyes practically narrowing to slits at this point, "But now you're just  _you._ The  _people_ are Omega now. And  _you_ would sacrifice them  _for_ you. Which is  _exactly_ why I won't fight for you," she turned away, eyes fixing with Marcus, "Shepard, I trust you enough. But please, if you agree to this insane idea, I'm afraid I must pull Talon support from this entire operation. I will not risk innocent civilians."

"I-" he moved to speak, only for Aria to grab Nyreen and forcibly pull her towards the asari, teeth gritted and eyes alight with fury.

"You cannot, will not, do that!" she declared, incredulous and vehement, "You need us! You said yourself, if we lose, you lose! And then all of Omega will pay the price!"

Nyreen just smiled. There was no amusement behind it...it was bitter, spiteful, "I can live with that, Aria. Petrovsky is a good man, and I could live a happy life under his reign. He might even see me as a useful police officer...protecting the people. But Aria...if you lose, I can't see you living without your precious space station. So tell me, are you willing to risk losing the Talons just so you can sacrifice countless thousands? Or will Aria T'Loak finally grow up and realize the entire galaxy won't just fit together as she pleases like a jigsaw puzzle?"

Silence followed for a few moments, before Aria let go of the turian, turning around awkwardly and straightening her jacket. Nyreen just watched her, as did everyone else, waiting for a response: for the first time since the two were reunited, an argument between them had left  _Aria_ speechless. She actually looked flustered, like she'd been caught in the act. Bray and Ahz did their best to be looking anywhere but the asari queen, as if worried she would lash out at them if they so much as spared her a glance.

 _Aria T'Loak...seems like Nyreen broke the one rule of Omega and got away with it._ He cleared his throat, "There...will be  _no_ propaganda videos," he stated, squaring his comment firmly in the direction of Aria. The asari gave no response, barely managing a nod of agreement, although he noted it was reluctant and somewhat sluggish. Nyreen clearly had a profound affect on her. Continuing, he turned to Nyreen, "Not because we need the Talons, but because it's the right thing to do: we don't need countless civilians slaughtered to win this battle. We disable the forcefields, and we march on Afterlife. Civilian casualties will be mitigated to the lowest possible. I will hear no more of it."

Nyreen nodded graciously. It was Sata who spoke though, coming to Nyreen's defense, "Yes, we must focus on winning this without needlessly sacrificing innocents. So if we're agreed on that..." she looked around the room, seeing no disagreement or objections. She nodded, turning to Marcus, and nodding, "...please continue."

"Well, it's better said than done," Ahz pointed out, drawing the entire room's attention, "After all, access to the reactor is also blocked off by forcefields. It also doesn't help that the entirety of the mining sector and the lower levels, where the reactor is located, is crawling with a thriving adjutant population. There's no life support, not a single form of power outside of the main one."

Marcus nodded, sighing. He honestly hated the idea of having to crawl through pitch black darkness also inhabited by techno-zombies, but he knew it was the only way.  _As long as we maintain strong formation and stay together, we should be fine. In and out. It'll be like the Collector Base...except if she get hurt, we turn into one of them. Great, no harm, right?_ "It doesn't matter. We're going in there and we're bringing those fields down. We need to find a way past the forcefields and into the lower levels. Once there, we'll find a clear path to the reactor, reroute power, and then get the hell out of there. We're not hanging around to become the lunch of an adjutant horde."

"I hope you realize what you're getting into, captain," Nyreen stated. She still had that persistent look of terror in her eyes...the one that was quickly becoming unsettling. I mean, she was a badass and a hardened special forces operative, and even she was terrified at the thought of going down there? Didn't exactly instill inspiration, "Again, these aren't the usual husk...they're worse. If you're going down there, you need to know two things. One, bring explosives...a lot of them. Anything less than a grenade launcher will barely hurt them. Two, don't let them get close enough to scratch or bite you. If they draw blood, you might as well kill yourself...a matter of fact, you have to...unless one of your squad is willing to draw the confidence to put you down once you come back."

"I'll admit," Garrus added, sounding none too confident himself, despite his intention to inject humor into the conversation, "I'm not entirely sold on this idea. Perhaps Marcus can go down and we'll just stay here. He's used to doing the impossible at this point."

"Hilarious, Vakarian," Marcus shot back, "But if I'm putting my ass on the line, you'll bet I'll drag your ass down with me. No Shepard without Vakarian. That means you too, Tali."

"I didn't say anything?"

"You were thinking it."

"Admittedly, I was."

"You're a terrible wife."

"I value my life."

"But not mine?"

"Only slightly."

Nyreen was incredulous, looking between them as if they were insane, "Are you not hearing me? This isn't a joke...how can you be joking about this?"

Garrus just laughed, "One thing you'll learn with us is that almost nothing has limits when it comes to humour. Besides, we find it helps lower the stress."

"Yeah, no point going into a suicide mission focusing on imminent death and despairing," Marcus joked, "Might as well go in with a grin on my face. You'll find the less you focus on the idea of dying, the more likely you are to not experience it."

"That's what he tells himself anyway," Tali joked, "Although the way he acts, you might think he's just trying to die at this point."

"Living is my utmost intention, have no fear," he retorted, wiping the grin that was forming on his face as he addressed the unimpressed Nyreen, "Don't assume that we're not taking this seriously, Nyreen. We are. Right now, the idea of moving through a dark chamber full of synthetic zombie abominations is not on our list of vacation resorts. Just thinking about it worries me, as it no doubt does the rest of my squad. But we're used to this kind of stuff. Sure, not adjutants, but we've done suicide missions before and come out on top, and this will be no different. And we really must do this."  _Quite frankly, the idea freaks me the fuck out. I can do husks, but at least they wait for dragon teeth to transform their victims...mostly post mortem._

The Talon general sighed, finally nodding, "Okay, fair enough. Well, if we're really doing this, and it looks like we are," again, that look of hesitance. The one where she looked ready to back out. Instead she steeled herself, pushing forward. It was clear to him her experience with these adjutants was far more personal than she let on, "Then first you need a way inside, pass the forcefields blocking off the lower levels. While one might assume its completely blocked off, it's not: there's a blast door adjacent to where the forcefield's western emitter is, that leads into the eezo processing plant. That should take you straight into the mining sector. It's the only area Petrovsky hasn't completely sealed off, as he needs access to the mining equipment and drills. Cerberus have been working them non-stop for resources, bleeding the asteroid dry."

Aria shrugged, shaking her head but looking like she understood the reason, "Element Zero is rare, and Omega is a delicious gold mine full of it. You could run the drills for years and still not tap the bulk of it. Unfortunately, those mines have been out of operation for...well, a while."

Nyreen just scoffed, "More like a millenia. Those drills go back to the days this station was a mining facility owned by Easy Eezo Industries. It predates the Krogan Rebellions," she rolled her eyes, scratching her frill, "They're hilariously out of date, and haven't been used since the krogan were evicted by Tanculus. Petrovsky made the mistake of not only reactivating them without any maintenance, but he has them running without reprieve. Those drills will burn themselves out within another two months. But the General seems desperate enough for those resources."

Kaidan spoke up, offering his own hypothesis, "He's probably ferrying them out to Cerberus: another reason they want this asteroid bad. There's enough element zero here to sustain their entire navy for the next century, not to mention for biotic experiments and creating dragoons. As for why he's running them dry...no doubt the Illusive Man's levering the pressure. We have set back numerous Cerberus operations, after all."

"Well, those supplies will be going nowhere with the blockade we've set up," Marcus pointed out, turning back to Nyreen, "So that's lucky for us: all this eezo in one location? Perfect for powering the Crucible, not to mention all of the UGC's fleets. Just another reason to have Omega in our possession."

"Agreed, Shepard," Nyreen reciprocated, crossing her arms, "As I said, that blast door is your best bet. Its thick enough that adjutants can't get through, hence why Petrovsky's confident enough to let it stand without the forcefield to back up: perfect for you to slip in. He won't be expecting anyone to brave the mining sector, especially with knowledge of the adjutants. Through there, its a relatively straight, but long, shot to reactor control. If you're quiet, you shouldn't alert the attention of the adjutants. Once inside, there are blast doors you can seal from where you are to keep them out if you do alert them...where you go from there is up to you."

Marcus nodded.  _Seems like a solid plan. Not much detailing how to deal with an adjutant horde should they be alerted, but given how monstrous they are, that's no surprise. But if we're going quiet..._ He looked up, feeling himself slip to the side slightly as he lost balance: he regained it quickly enough, shaking his head to ignore the dizziness. He ignored Tali's worried glance, continuing, "We can't risk bringing a large force in there: too much noise. For that reason, we'll be going small and tight: numbers will just draw unwanted attention. I'll take my squad inside, and once the forcefields are down, Golo will be ready to launch the assault. You must be ready to act immediately, though."

General Golo gave a simple nod, letting him know he understood.

Aria was next to speak, making it clear what she wanted, "In terms of an attack, Afterlife must be a priority. Take that, and we show Petrovsky that I mean business."

"More than that," Nyreen stated, clearing her throat, "You may not like it Aria, but the Afterlife you knew is gone: the entrance is about all that's left. Petrovsky's converted it into his personal headquarters, naming it 'New Order HQ.' It's highly likely Petrovsky himself is stationed there, along with his colonels. Taking Afterlife won't just show Cerberus we mean business...we'll be taking the center point of their operation."

Marcus licked his lips, "That's good. Aria gets her headquarters back, and we dethrone Petrovsky and his commanders: from there, clearing the districts one by one should be a simple job. It's settled: once the forcefields are deactivated, all UGC forces will make an immediate and swift push for New Order HQ. Golo can formulate the exact battle plan, but I recommend a blitzkrieg tactic of attacking with aircraft and ground troops simultaneously. A pincer movement from the west and east should rapidly collapse any defensive lines they have, allowing you to sweep in, around, and swarm in from all sides." The quarian general nodded his concurrence. Marcus did a quick scan of the room, searching for any sort of objection to their plan. There wasn't one.

 _Well, if this plan succeeds we'll have ended this war in just a few days. Shorter than the war for Rannoch, thankfully. And it'll give a much needed morale boost to the UGC. Nothing like retaking a space station from a pro-human supremacist group and dealing some damage to their reputation. Might even make Timmy cry a little._ The idea brought him much amusement, but he wondered just how much pressure it would take for Petrovsky to eventually crack.  _No doubt he'll have contingencies in place...Cerberus will fight us every step of the way. But we must win, no matter what._

_Victory at any cost._

Noting the silence and likely taking it as an indicator the meeting had concluded, Aria motioned to Nyreen, "I will stay here, make sure my own troops are in working order and then, when you bring those fields down, I'll lead the charge on my end. I want to see Petrovsky's face for myself when we storm the entrance to Afterlife and reclaim my seat. He better hope my couch is still there," she once again nodded to her ex-turian lover, "Nyreen will lead you into the Dark Zone to reach the reactor. She obviously knows the route best, so she would be an excellent choice to-"

"No," the turian flatly declared, shaking her head. All eyes landed on her, some of them frowning, others surprised or confused. The turian backed away from the table slightly. Noticing she had left some dead air in the wake of her statement, she awkwardly scratched her frill, coughing, "I'll...I will coordinate with my Talons, have them run sabotage and espionage counter-activities against Cerberus with their forces are thickest. If we're lucky, we can even the playing field...disrupt their movements. Neutralize fuel sources, take out garages, destroy hangars, capture artillery and mechs...we could make a huge dent in them before the fields drop."

Aria seemed to catch on the quickest to what Nyreen was doing, eying her former partner closely before stepping towards her, one hand lazily trailing the table, "You could have your forces do that...they don't need you. However, without the proper guidance, poor Shepard and his merry band might get lost...or worse, torn apart by rabid monsters. So tell me Nyreen...what are you afraid of?"

The turian's eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her composure. Her breath was getting shaky however, fists clenching and unclenching tightly, trying poorly to mask this from the asari, "I'm not...I am not afraid of anything. I need to oversee these operations myself to-"

"Bullshit," the asari bluntly cut her off, silencing the rest of her sentence with one verbal stroke, "Your breathing is shaky, and your clenching your fists...you only do that when you're afraid of something, I should know. Is it...the adjutants? Do they frighten you, Nyreen?" not waiting for the turian to answer, she reached a conclusion for herself, "What did you experience that has turned such a hardened warrior like yourself into a gibbering wreck at the mere mention of an adjutant? Do tell me, so I can slap it out of you, because it's really quite pat-"

Suddenly, it was gone: like the turian just wiped it away. Traces of the fear remained: the occassional jittery finger or scratch of the frill. But her hands were calm now, her eyes set and fear absent from them. It was almost like she had simply filed it away somewhere, ignoring the nightmares so they didn't impede on her day-to-day, "...it's none of your business, Aria. Just...forget it," she turned to Marcus, ignoring the asari's interrogative gaze, "I will guide your squad through the mines, captain. Just let me organize with my second-in-command. I'll have him begin to run these saboteur activites at once." Without so much as a backwards glance, the turian stormed from the room, exiting into the forward loading bay, door closing behind her.

Before anyone could begin to question exactly what had gotten into the usually resolute, but consistently intransigent turian general, Marcus cleared his throat, deciding there was nothing else to discuss and to bring the topic to a close, "Given what occurred today and the injuries suffered, we will all need to get some rest before we put this operation into effect," he paused, frowning, before deciding upon a perfect name for it, "Operation Iron Prophet is what this will be called. If there is no further questions, then this meeting is adjourned. Correct, Aria?"

Aria herself nodded, waving a hand for Bray, Dreg and Ahz to depart. Sata remained still for a few moments before bowing, taking her leave. Aria followed afterwards, rolling her eyes. Marcus did the same, and Garrus and Kaidan soon left through the back, the snoring Grunt left to his own slumber. Soon, the room was clear, leaving him alone...with Tali.

He winced as he turned around, finding that his muscles had now tensed considerably, leaving him aching in almost every department. His mobility constricted, he sighed heavily as he leaned back against the table, Tali moving to his side almost immediately. He tried to wave her off, but his wife would not be dismissed so quickly this time, the quarian ignoring his gestures and wrapping an arm under his own, giving him a helping hand, "Come on, I'll get you to your bunk. You need rest, and medical attention."

He sighed, dreading that statement.  _There's work to do, but I'm useless the way I am...and this bone really needs to be reset..._ "Tali..." he objected regardless, finding it almost obligatory nowadays: he knew he needed rest, but he felt the need to object to her concerns, arguing against his need for medical attention despite the necessity of it.

"Don't argue with me, Mark," she dictated, moving forward and forcing him to reluctantly walk with her. The morphine had severely dulled his senses, making basic movement very difficult as he constantly questioned and battled his balance. He felt as if he was spinning, the combination of sheer pain fighting the drugs for control over his senses and his lack of balance leaving him a droopy, gaping trance, "You can barely stand...you're going to sit down and  _relax._ Sleep. I don't care. Your cybernetic regeneration process will heal your wounds, but you're not krogan: they need time to do their work. Healing will also be useless unless that broken nose and arm of yours are reset. We need somebody who knows your medical history well enough."

They managed to reach the door, stepping through it as they entered the forward loading bay, where the UGC troops were currently gathered and consolidated. Some of them celebrated their victory, tossing around battle trophies they had claimed from corpses of fallen Cerberus soldiers: from helmets to weapons, armor to even the leg of an Atlas, symbols of the battle were gathered for all to see. Others look to be doing what Tali wanted him to do...either sleeping, resting or chatting with colleagues. Others sought medics, nursing wounds, severe and light, ranging from simple cuts and grazes to dismembered limbs or missing ears.

He understood exactly who Tali meant, and as they headed for his makeshift bed, he nodded, albeit with some difficulty, "Fine...contact the  _Normandy_. Tell them to send Chakwas down to the bunker to treat me; after that, she could probably help around. Plenty of injuries to keep the doc busy."

His engineer nodded her own agreement, tappig at her omni-tool and contacting the  _Normandy_ with just a few key swipes. Moments later, Joker's voice came over the speaker, sounding chipper and more than pleased, "What can I do for you, Tali? Hope you guys are having fun down there, because we certainly were. Oh yeah, plenty of fun up here to be had. Lots of asteroids and ships and...other stuff. You know, real exciting."

Both Marcus and Tali rolled their eyes simultaneously, "I'm glad you're keeping yourself busy, Joker. Can you send Doctor Chakwas down to the bunker via shuttle? Mark needs medical assistance."

That set off some alarm bells with the pilot, "What kind of help? He didn't get himself killed again, did he? Because let me remind you just how expensive it was to bring him back last time..."

 _Smartass._ "Right here, Joker. Alive and well. And right back at you: I'll remind  _you_ that the person afflicted by that expensive spending is currently the one who we're at war with right now."

"What a conundrum!" the pilot jokingly shot back. Afterwards though, some seriousness, "I'll let Doctor Chakwas know immediately, captain. Should be down within the next half hour."

"I'll be  _eagerly_ waiting her arrival," Marcus replied, lacing his tone with sarcasm. If Tali noticed, she didn't acknowledge it, simply ignoring her childish husband to reply to their utterly  _hilarious_ jackass of a pilot.

"Thank you, Joker. Tali out," she cut the line, stopping their movement as they reached his bed. Slowly guiding him down so he could sit, she stood up, patting her hands as if to wipe off dust that had collected there. He winced as he lay down, and although he wouldn't admit it, it did feel good to sit down after such an intense battle. Slowly, piece by piece, he began the process of removing his armor, with Tali's help of course. Removing his right shoulderpads and armguards was the hardest part, but once that was done, the rest was a breeze. In nothing but his undersuit, he lay down on the bunk, finding his mind wandering off lazily as he considered falling asleep.  _Certainly feels like a good idea right about now..._

"With luck, your cybernetics, with the help of Chakwas, should heal most of the damage by tomorrow," Tali stated, standing above him now, "Then, and only then, will any of us allow you to walk into that mine. With how these adjutants are described, it sounds like you're going to need all the energy you can muster, too, so get some sleep if you can."

"Thanks mum," he jested, grinning. He gave her a mock salute, although he regretted the action, wincing. Tali took notice, shaking her head.

"Idiot," she turned to walk away, only to stop and look at something outside of his peripheral view. Curious, he rolled over to see what it was. He found that it wasn't something, but  _someone._ Nyreen Kandros stood beside his bunk, hands clasped behind her back as she regarded Tali. The quarian appraised her equally, looking her up and down, as if sizing her up.

"Speak with him later," Tali practically ordered, adopting a commanding pose, "He needs his rest."

 _Well, I did need to speak with Nyreen, one on one, eventually. Seems like a perfect time to do it. Not like I can do anything else._ "It's okay, Tali: I don't think I'm going to injure myself further by just talking to someone. It'll be fine."

She turned to him, looking at him for a moment, before turning back to Nyreen, shrugging, "Fine. But please make it quick. Like it or not, he needs sleep."

"Don't we all," the turian replied in kind, the two giving each other a respectful nod before going off in their respective directions: Tali towards the other side of the loading bay, and Nyreen to his side. The turian reached down and grabbed a nearby crate, dragging it over and sitting on it, hands coming to rest on her knees. She looked down at him, and he looked up at her, regarding the turian closely. Finally, she spoke, "I've...wanted to talk with you. Guess recent events meant we didn't get much time to...far too much to organize. Battles, plans, taking stock, doing the rounds...we've been kept pretty busy. I thought now would be a good time."

He nodded respectively, sitting himself up, ignoring the protest of his body as he resisted the embrace of sleep for a bit longer, "I've wanted to talk with you as well, Nyreen. I know Aria well enough, but I barely know of you. You seem to run a tight outfit with the Talons. Very well organized resistance force. Takes someone with a lot of military experience to pull that off. I already know you're special forces...what branch?"

The turian laughed, chuckling quietly for a moment before raising one hand. There was a low pitched, but audible, clap before a ball of biotic energy formed above her palm, tendrils of dark energy wrapping around the summoning hand and licking up her fingers, "There's only one branch of special forces in the turian military where biotics specialize, captain. I served in the Cabal Corps: weaponized biotics. They took our abilities and honed them. We're the turian answer to the asari's Commando Corps, but with a sharper edge."

"I've hardly heard of the Cabals," Marcus admitted, genuinely interested, "I know of the Blackwatch...and even the Armiger Legion."

Nyreen nodded, and with a click of her fingers, the biotic energy dissipated, hand falling into her lap again, "That's because our branch is kept hushed...Hierarchy likes their secrets, and the military has plenty of their own. Besides, turian biotics are rare enough as it is than the Cabals have very few members: but what few there are of us, we make up for our lack of numbers in sheer precision. I won't sugarcoat it, Shepard: we're trained to kill. I can reave an organic opponent over 400 meters away, summon a biotic barrier just by clicking by fingers, and I can rip a geth in half. 12th War Games had the Cabals pitted against asari commandos...there's a reason the asari don't like talking about the results."

He smiled, "Well, soldier to soldier, you've got an impressive skill set. What you did with Leng...he had cybernetics, yet you met him strike for strike. Seems baffling that somebody with your abilities would find themselves in Aria's camp."

She scratched her mandible, shrugging, "That story...you've heard it all before. Aria whooed me with her determination and strength...I fell for it. She used me, tried to change me...it failed. Now I'm here, and we're not on good terms. Suffice to say, I found that being a strong woman doesn't make for a powerful role model. After all, strength is all about what you do with it, not the fact that you have it."

 _Well, she's blunt, I'll give her that. She doesn't shy away from the fact she's a lethal killing machine, and she's not afraid to admit her issues with Aria, especially infront of the woman herself._  He looked back up at her, thoughts diminishing as he focused on her entirely, "I know you don't like Aria, Nyreen. You two are constantly butting heads over civilian safety...and you know I agree with you, one hundred percent. Aria's not a woman you want to be in bed with...but unfortunately, that bed will either win this war or lose it. I don't like it, but there it is. Don't you believe ousting Petrovsky is ultimately worth a temporary alliance with her?"

Nyreen hesitated, clearly not knowing how to answer his question initially. She quickly came to her senses though, the click of a mandible unmistakable, even amongst the noisy backdrop, "I don't know what to believe here, Shepard. I know I believe Omega's civilians are my first and foremost priority, and that all hopes of liberation are at the back of my mind when it comes to their affairs. There's the dilemma...Petrovsky, while Cerberus, looks after the people of Omega. So what reason do I really have to usurp him other than to be spiteful?" she snorted, waving her hand in the direction of the command center, "And who do we have to replace him? Aria T'Loak, the same person representing the broken system of lawlessness and anarchy from before he was removed, now back in all her 'glory.' I'm sorry captain, but it just seems like by the end of this we'll have done more to damage Omega than improve it."

Surprising, even to himself, he found he really couldn't object to that or really argue against it. Granted, he knew Cerberus couldn't hold onto Omega: it was a tactical advantage they could not be allowed to possess any longer, and that meant Petrovsky had to go. He knew the tactical reasons for it, but when he took the morality of it into account...it was beginning to grey out. In the end, Aria really was more of a destructive element than a unifying one...sure, she brought the people freedom and the liberty to do whatever the fuck they wanted, but they often did just that at the expense of others. And now with someone like Petrovsky in power, giving the people the security and protection they wanted under his benevolent rule, who would desperately want him gone? Who would honestly want him gone in exchange for the likes of Aria T'Loak? Did people really want the return of the one rule?

_Don't fuck with Aria. A rule most don't forget, but others would rather not return._

Then he looked at Nyreen. She was a good commander, and well respected among her troops: she herself had pointed out that only one chapter had surrendered to Cerberus and, given the good PR between Cerberus and the Omega population, it was quite a feat to hold a resistance movement in the midst of all that. Not only that, but she had literally reformed a major criminal drug cartel into a unified rebellion, turning criminals into soldiers. She had lead this resistance against one of the galaxy's most brilliant commanders, and managed to survive for months, evading his grasp. She had gone toe-to-toe with a cybernetically augmented assassin and almost  _killed him._ She cared deeply about the people, would never dare to harm a civilian and despised collateral damage: the kind of person nations rallied behind.

She was practically Petrovsky...the only difference was that she was turian and she wasn't Cerberus...and that one divide is what made her so...perfect. He had seen parts of it before, but now that he had continued to see Nyreen in combat and at debriefings, he was more and more convinced that she wasn't just capable of leading, she was an excellent leader.

A perfect ruler. The one Omega has, but without the Cerberus connections. The ultimate match.  _Nyreen's the better choice to rule Omega. I should have known Aria was too much of a handful from the get go...but Kandros has what it takes, and then some. She doesn't demand respect, she's earned it. She doesn't bully, she arranges. She isn't overly emotional. She's smart, quick on her feet, and has actual military experience, as opposed to Aria, who's combat training, at least in Marcus' point of view, resembled that of a first-rate mercenary: good, possibly even great...but no match for even the greenest of marines. And Nyreen's ex-special forces._

_An excellent fit, really._

But could he really be thinking this? Aria had entrusted him with this whole operation: could he really just stab her in the back like that? And even if he did, and endorsed Nyreen over her, did he really think Aria would just give up? She adored Omega. It was her home, and she had poured enormous resources into this invasion. To have all of that succeed, only for her ex-lover to sweep the rug out from under her...in the end, there would be only way to ensure Aria remained out of the picture.

_I'd have to kill her...great, that's some Illusive Man thinking there: stab your allies in the back. We're supposed to be fighting the Reapers, and I'm contemplating a goddamn coup. And I'm not even counting her damn loyalists! No doubt Bray and Dreg will fight for her, not to mention the rest of her OLF. It'd be a bloodbath, and for what? Because I prefer Nyreen over her? This is a fucking war! I can't afford to play a game of 'pick that dictator!'_

_But Nyreen's loyalty would forever be secured...her help against the Reapers is absolute. But if Aria gets Omega back and decides she wants nothing to do with the conflict...I mean after all, she only did this for Omega. She doesn't give a damn about the Reapers. She probably thinks Harbinger and his ilk will just ignore her: dismiss her as a threat. That she'll be spared from their harvest simply by making herself scarce._

In the end, his answer was basic...fundamentalist at best. In his mind, he was constantly battling himself, wondering if he was right or wrong to think these things. Whether it was right or wrong to be inwardly considering a coup..."We are what we are, Nyreen. And while Aria might not be the leader Omega wants nor needs, it's the one the UGC desires."

The turian nodded, finding she couldn't argue with that, "I understand. Just keep what I said in mind. I'd hate for you to be disappointed when Aria inevitably shows her true colors again...after she takes power again, I mean."

Marcus found that she really wasn't wrong.

_Only question is...will I let her have that power?_

**"Yeah, I was having serious doubts over Aria's stability...and whether she was the right choice for leadership on Omega."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"So did the coup succeed? I doubt you willing let Aria have power after you realized that."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, that's spoilers. Let's have some consistency, yes?"**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"Fine. Whatever. Very well. You mentioned Operation Iron Prophet: the endgame. You entered the mines?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"The next day, yes. Boy, Nyreen certainly didn't exaggerate those adjutants..."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**You guys will be ecstatic to know that...the next chapter is a MULTI-PART. YIP-YEE! Seriously though, this multi-part chapter is only a two-parter, so don't start cursing my name yet.** _

_**E3 2017 was pretty stale, if I'm honest. Just a rehash of stuff I'm already excited for...but I'm pretty excited for Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus and Metro: Exodus. If you guys haven't played Metro 2033 or Metro Last Light, do so: awesome games. If you like a post-apocalyptic setting, but in Russia, then this is the game you want.** _

_**Well, until next time,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	72. Silent Mines, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and his team, accompanied by Aria and Nyreen, infiltrate the abandoned mines to cripple Petrovsky's force field network. Horrors lurk in the dark.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE:**

**SILENT MINES PART ONE**

_August 7, 2186_

_1027 hours._

_Element Zero Processing Plant, Mining Sector, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Light Prophet._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Moses, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, General Nyreen Kandros._

His night vision already activated, Marcus found the darkness already peeling away, layer by layer, as he stood poised on the gangway. There was the signature rattle of support struts as his heavy, armoured body landed on the grating, rifle sweeping through the air to check for targets. The night vision function on his helmet highlighted every key aspect of the room in bright neon green. From what he could see, they had landed on a long, hundred meter long gangway of rusted but stable steel, held up by five inch thick cabling bolted into the ceiling just above them, and suspended above a large gap that bled into the abyss below. A banner was draped one support wire, it's logo undeniably that of Omega, torn and ripped, making it barely recognizable.

Nyreen was last in. Turning back around, he motioned up to the waiting turian that the area was clear, with no sign of any adjutants. In fact, the entire chamber was eerily silent...the drills could faintly be heard in the chambers ahead, but this chamber was as silent as the grave, stale, still air permeating the atmosphere whilst the metal beneath their boots creaked and groaned with the added pressure of fresh meat entering the sector. Lighting, aside from that of their own weapon flashlights, was non-existent. After all, Petrovsky had completely abandoned this area, having his men remotely control the drills from above. If one of them died, he likely gave up on it too: no sense risking personnel sending men to fix it if it fell silent.

The turian general quickly closed the hatch behind them and sealed it tight, before descending down the ladder, hands on the sides and sliding. She landed with a thud, head snapping around and holding still to listen for sound. Still nothing. Whatever reason the turian was looking for in terms of leaving did not rush out to greet her, so she steadily removed herself from the ladder, unholstered her Pugio pistol, and nodded to Marcus.

"Well, we're here," Aria stated, her loud voice breaking the silence of the chamber. Marcus' eyes found her immediately, glaring at the asari through the pitch dark, "Let's get moving. Plenty of adjutants down here, but those forcefields aren't going to-"

" _Ssssshhhh_!" Nyreen hissed, eyes darting around. Clearly annoyed at not being able to see properly, she reached down and slipped a helmet over her head, allowing her eyes to find Aria's, "We're not alone down here! Keep it quiet or I'll call this off!"

"Do it, Aria," Marcus reinforced, his voice a bare whisper, "I want silence. If you must speak, do so softly. We don't know where they are, and as far as we know, they don't know where we are. We whisper and it'll stay that way. I'd rather not have to fight these adjutants if I can help it. They'll just bog us down."

There was a sigh, followed by Aria speaking again, this time more quietly, "Fine. Is this better?" seeing they had nodded, she rolled her eyes, turning back around with her shotgun, "Good. Now, I checked the schematics, and there's an intersection at the end of this gangway. We keep going straight until we get into the third chamber. Should be one final intersection that will take us to the right and towards the reactor."

"Well, if we hang here, those things will find us. No amount of hushed talking will stop that," Nyreen stated, beginning to walk forward, past Aria and a few of his squad, "So...no point just standing here."

Marcus motioned for his squad to follow her, nodding to all of them, "Kandros has it right: you know the drill, standard op formation. Arrow formation, lights behind, heavies form a picket in front. Nyreen, you're the point. Aria, you're the tail. I'm form up center, see what I can spot. Stay frosty. I trust you guys know the rest, so I won't badger you on the details. Let's just get this over with so we can get out of this shit hole."

As they moved to form up, Moses' titanic form marching past him, a startling screech ate through the darkness, and everybody stopped in place, weapons up and grip tense. Nyreen notably had her weapon up first, whilst Aria cocked her shotgun: all the biotics made a note not to summon their abilities, as doing so would make them beacons for whatever was out there: a great blue flare that would practically beg for them to be found. Everybody remained frozen and silent, listening out for the screech. It was not one Marcus recognized, as it didn't belong to any husk he had fought before, but it was chilling enough that it was unmistakably some form of Reaper abomination. The screech came again, this time with two of them, but was further away...in another chamber.

By the third time, which was so distant as to be almost misheard, the squad had already lowered their weapons, returning to assuming their assigned positions. Marcus let out a low exhalation of breath, considering themselves lucky.  _Could have very easily been spotted. Then we'd be swarmed and we'd all die a gruesome, terrible death. In darkness. Barely past the finish line._

As the squad began to move forward and his unit fell into a rhythm of movement, he mulled over the proposed attack plan for finishing this war and bringing down Petrovsky's regime. Titled 'Operation: Iron Prophet', the assault was split into two sub-operations: Light and Dark Prophet. Light Prophet was their small raid on the reactor, and their current objective. Dark Prophet would follow Light, where the fall of the forcefields would result in all UGC assault forces launching simultaneous, immediate, unilateral strikes against key Cerberus strategic positions, overwhelming them, and then flooding into their command posts, all with the intend of overwhelming them with numbers and manpower so quickly and swiftly so as to overpower their ability to respond. With their command thrown into disarray, his forces would be able to steal a full day's march and turn it into an hour of chaos. With hope, Assault Group A would march to the west, seize the Gozu District, and destroy their air fields, capture their munitions depots and eliminate their armor, whilst also taking hold of their left flank. Cerberus would have to divert forces to focus on this flank, allowing Assault Group B to swarm from the east and smash their forward line, opening up the way to Afterlife. With these objectives secured, his squad would arrive, rush through the UGC's siege lines, infiltrate Afterlife, kill the guards, and capture the Cerberus high command. With Petrovsky in their hands dead or alive, Cerberus would be forced to either surrender or be wiped out. Or, at least, that was the hope.

Right now, all UGC forces were discreetly moving into position, feinting troop movements along the Tuhi district to keep Petrovsky's recon units and scouts occupied with false tactical readings. Petrovsky would continue to think Shepard's troops were probing his defenses for a weakness, while his actual forces began to steadily trickle out of the base, one by one, moving off to their different readiness zones. He also had aircraft running sorties to continue this illusion, bombing Cerberus patrols in the streets: anything that kept them from seeing the real threat that was forming...and so far, Petrovsky didn't even know that the real essence to sealing his campaign's doom was in the mining sector right now.

They had progressed several dozen meters down the gangway by now, their progress not slow, but not rapid either. They had to make sure they didn't cause any noise whilst moving as fast as they could, and the result was a sort of comical shuffle down the line: an awkward movement that caused them mobility but meant they were also ready for whatever came for them. It also meant they were more aware of what was going on around them, including the Cerberus squad they found waiting for them.

Well, the former squad.

"Woah, hold up," Keeling ordered, raising one fist before dropping to a crouch. Marcus, having noted that had stopped, nudged past Garrus to join the N7, who was now with Kaidan, Javik and James, next to a dead Cerberus assault trooper. He was left almost aghast by the sheer brutality of it: even with just his night vision, he could see that the entire lower half of the trooper's head was simply missing, with long, deep gashes along the top of his collarbone from claw marks indicating something massive had swiped at the trooper and not only scratched him, but taken half his face off in the process. A crimson towel of dried blood covered the entire front of the dead soldier, his rifle resting beside him, held there by a mangled, twisted arm.

"Holy fuck," James muttered cautiously, gingerly tapping the man's armor. He didn't move, as he was clearly dead, but it seemed the marine didn't want to take chances, especially after Aria's promise of what amounted to synthetic zombies. But this Cerberus soldier was definitely more dead than undead, "Did...did the adjutants do this?"

"It took half his face off," piped Aria, "It was definitely a fucking adjutant. I've seen them cleave mercs in half down their torso. From the looks of it, it nibbled at his arm too. Must have been hungry."

Tali crouched down and accessed her omni-tool, holding up the dead trooper's one remaining arm to get access to his own. As she hacked, the trooper's own omni-tool lit up, and in seconds, his quarian savant had broken the firewalls on the deceased's microcomputer, bringing up his last moments while checking through the rest of his omni-tool for anything important, "Lima Actual, this is White Cloak. Status on Morningstar, over."

Tali had the volume adjusted so as to not be too loud, and rerouted to the squad's comms. Soon, Marcus could hear the electronic voice of the trooper alive in his own ears, as if he was receiving the orders himself, "White Cloak, this is Wardog, we're tracking Morningstar now. Target is eratic, but has not detected us as yet. Please advise."

"This is a typical tag and bag op, Wardog," the Cerberus command base codename replied, sounding more human and less electronic, although the voice definitely didn't belong to Petrovsky, lacking his distinct Russian undertone, "Neutralize the subject however possible, just do not bring any permanent harm. Cannot advise beyond that, over."

Marcus frowned, as he noticed the rest of his squad doing, all of them equally as confused: they all knew what they were hearing, but they weren't quite sure why Cerberus were doing it.  _They sent a squad down here to capture an adjutant? What purpose would that serve? What does Petrovsky want with these creatures? Does the Illusive Man wish to reclaim them?_

"Solid copy White Cloak, we'll...what? What is it?" the soldier suddenly cut himself off, disturbed by a trooper beside him. Then there was a loud screech over the comms, followed by several more joining it, "Fuck! Pull back, now! Everybody, retreat back to the hatch! Holy shit! There's dozens... _hundreds of them!_ Pull back damn it! Fuck this, I'm getting out of-" The rest was simply screaming, intermingled with the sounds of tearing flesh, misguided gunfire and more adjutants joining the frey. Tali silenced the recording, knowing they had heard enough.

"Stupid fuckers," Aria hissed, shaking her head unsympathetically, "Tried tracking an adjutant, only to get spotted, for it to call its buddies, and then get ripped apart by a horde of adjutants. Petrovsky had some real fucking balls sending a squad down here like that," she reconsidered that statement, stroking her chin before waving a dismissive hand, "Scratch that. He was just being plain fucking stupid...and this coming from a supposedly brilliant strategist."

"No, Petrovsky had to have done this for a reason," Nyreen exclaimed, having now joined the group in crouching beside the dead, mangled trooper's corpse, "It just doesn't make any sense otherwise. No doubt these men were sent down here knowing they would sustain heavy casualties, but in the end would hopefully capture an adjutant. As for why...that I can't say."

"Knowing Cerberus, however," Tali piped up, deactivating her omni-tool in the process, shaking her head at Marcus to let him know that, once again, Cerberus firewalls and anti-intrusion software was just too good, and that she couldn't scrape off any good intel, before standing up, "It can't be anything good. They could be creating a super adjutant for all we know."

"Found the rest of his unit," Kaidan declared, causing everyone to snap their gazes to the soldier. He was standing a few more meters down the gangway, pacing back and forth, the flashlight on his M-9 Usurper illuminating the many more bodies he had found. Marcus stood up, signalling the others to do the same, and quietly and calmly, they approached the site Kaidan had discovered, using their own flashlights to examine the casualties.

It was a complete mess. Just like the other trooper, these corpses were mangled beyond recognition, limbs missing on some while others were bloodied to the point of looking more like rotting sacks of non-descript meat more than they did former humans. In addition to the dead assault trooper, Marcus found a single centurion lying on his front in the middle, his rifle tossed infront of him and dried blood coating the back of his helmet where he was likely impaled and killed instantly. Strewn about and around him were nine assault troopers in varying positions, one lying back against a severely bent and twisted railing, while others were either lying on the railings missing legs and arms, or were also lying across the railing. Finally, a single combat engineer, lay with a broken back and in a near fetal position on the gangway, visor cracked to reveal his cold, open dead eyes, and breastplate torn off, leaving bloody streaks in its place diagonally across his chest. Blood continued to drip through the grating into the abyss below, whilst on other bodies it was dried and crusted, indicating that the battle that occurred here was recent.

"This didn't happen too long ago," Kaidan verbally pointed out for Marcus, although he surmized the entire squad was thinking it at this point, "Blood is dried in some areas, whilst for this engineer," he kicked the corpse for emphasis, looking at it with a restrained discomfort, "His blood is fresh, still not dry. The adjutant that killed them could still be lurking nearby."

Liara appeared to grip her SMG more tightly, as did Kasumi, "We should tread carefully then. It could be watching us at this very moment."

"Are adjutants predatory?" Marcus flat out queried, turning to Aria and Nyreen for answers.  _I sure hope not. Last thing we need is adjutants stalking us without knowing it._

Nyreen shook her head, "Not from what I've seen. If they see you, they'll attack without a second thought...they're particularly stupid that way for some reason. Makes it easy to set traps...somewhat."

"So we haven't been spotted yet," Garrus dryly pointed out, mandibles twitching as he shook his head, subconsciously but noticably tightening the grip on his rifle ever so slightly, "That's reassuring. Let's just hope we don't get spotted...ever. Because these troopers were attacked by hundreds of them...unless of course he was exaggerating. Either way, I'd rather not tempt the horde."

"Organics are more likely to exaggerate reports when panicked or exihibiting other forms of fear," Moses analyzed, the gigantic geth standing silently nearby as it looked around, its own night vision at work as it searched the darkness for adjutants. It had toned down on its usual loud, electronic overtone, but it was still loud enough for Marcus to tense everytime he heard it, wondering if a screech would cut it off at any moment, "This gangway is too narrow for hundreds of adjutants to attack at once in such numbers...unless they can climb walls."

"Oh fuck that," James spat, not at all pleased with that idea as he backed up slightly, searching fruitlessly through the dark with his M-76 Revenant to find a target to unload lead into, "I sure hope these assholes can't climb walls. Zombies are bad enough...I don't need spider, monkey zombies in my life."

Nyreen practically marched right up to the captain, hand grabbing his shoulder and turning him away from the group, allowing for her to whisper to him without the others hearing, "You've seen what they can do...they overwhelmed this entire squad without a single casualty. Notice how there isn't a single adjutant corpse? This mission is suicide, and Aria is leading you and your men to your deaths."

 _You think I don't get that? Only reason we're here is because there is no other option. We need those forcefields fucking gone._ "No, you  _and_ Aria are leading me and my men to our deaths. And I'm not leaving this sector without those forcefields down. This entire operation goes to shit if they stay up. And we need the element of surprise this brings. Petrovsky's forces will be in complete disarray with the fields deactivate, and our troops attack simultaneously. The forcefields remain up...and Petrovsky will repel every assault we make. We'll lose thousands in the process."

Nyreen nodded, followed by the nervous twitch of a mandible as she thought through what she said next, "I know what the stakes are. Aria drilled that to the point of absurdity. You drilled that to the point of conclusion. You're dead set on this plan, and I don't blame you: it's a good plan,  _if_ we survive. There is no guarantee we're going to get more than a kilometer in before an adjutant spots us. There are thousands upon thousands of them down here...we spotted once,  _just_ once, and we'll wish for a quick death. You saw what they did to that squad...you want the same for your squad?" Marcus shook his head, but before he could continue, Nyreen intervened, continuing, voice raising an octave, "Then pull out, while you still can! The hatch is just back there."

"There will be no retreat," Marcus gritted his teeth, shrugging off Nyreen's hand. He'd had enough of the turian's naysaying. Their morale was already low enough going into this sector without her to make it worse, "Now, you listen to me, because I will only say this once: there will be no turning back. We either march to victory or march to defeat, but we are  _committed._ Forward, and  _only_ forward. Thousands of lives, both in our army and the station's citizens, are counting on us to make this happen. Our success here means success for the UGC. We can win this war by tomorrow, but that only counts if we make a move  _here_. We turn back, all hope of that is lost. We could be bogged down in a ground war for months...possibly years. How long do you think I have to wait? The Reapers are demolishing everything we know and love, and I'm stuck on this shithole of a station trying to win it back for Aria so the UGC can get the resources it needs. I refuse to just give that up. I did not help cure the fucking genophage to just give up and go home. I did not retake Rannoch and make peace between archrivals just to turn back and go fucking home. I will not, cannot, abide anyone who tells me to turn back and go fucking home just because the going gets tough! We are at war! I did not turn back when Jacob died! I did not turn back when Mordin died! I did not turn back when Thane died! I did not turn back when Legion died! So I'm sorry Nyreen, but you can go fuck yourself if you think I'm just going to surrender and fuck off home over one setback."

Nyreen wasn't convinced, frowning as she poked a finger into his chest, "Heroics and bravado are all good and great, but don't mean shit in the face of a full adjutant horde. I lost an entire squad to those freaks...and it all meant nothing! Find another way to win this war!"

"I get it, you're scared," Marcus snapped, refusing to give in as he turned fully to face her. Their heated argument had attracted the attention of the entire squad now. This shook Nyreen, as she hadn't wanted an audience, but quite frankly, he had enough of her constant second guessing of his command, "I've seen fear. I've experienced it...hell, I experience it every day. The fear of who I'm going to lose next. Hell, my wife, who is standing right over there," he pointed to Tali, the quarian more than likely taking note of the fact she was mentioned, "Fears that I'll turn up in a body bag eventually, and I, her. That's the inevitability of war. Does that mean I stop her from going on missions? Does that mean I just drop my rifle and let everybody do the fighting for me? No! The Reapers don't fear me, but I fear them...I fear what they can do, what they're capable of, what they've done. You're a fucking idiot if you're not scared of them. But the bottom line is that if we don't face them here and now, there will be no one left to stop them. Same with these adjutants...we can't fear compromise who we are. That core principle is why me and the Illusive Man are now firmly enemies...because in one moment, just one, he asked me to sacrifice everything I stand for simply on the hope that one of his sick experiments will actually churn out some good. You're a soldier, Nyreen...be a soldier. Steel yourself. I'm not asking you to stop being afraid...only that you repress it. I need you to help my squad get to that reactor...doing so will end this war, I know it. The real question is...are you more afraid of the adjutants than you are determined to get Omega out of Petrovsky's control?"

He noticed the turian fall silent, unable to immediately refute his statement. She sighed, rubbing her temples as she finally nodded, "Yes, you're right. I am afraid, and for good reason...those adjutants are unlike any enemy I've faced before. I've fought batarian slavers, vorcha packs, a krogan battlemaster, asari mercenaries, Cerberus shock troopers...I thought I had fought every imaginable foe in the galaxy. But adjutants...they change the entire game, Shepard. Mindless, but intelligent. Seemingly invulnerable, but yet just killable. You lose men, whilst in the process they gain them. How do you stop something like that?"

Marcus just slapped her arm lightly, raising his rifle, "We keep shooting them until their dead...and when that fails, we look for a way to beat them. I've been doing this for three years...well, me and my squad...and its worked out for us. The geth are allies, the Collectors are wiped out and the Reapers have finally met a cycle that's holding its own against them. We don't work miracles...we just see something somebody has called impossible, and we do our best, subconsciously of course, to prove them wrong. I'm going to prove you wrong, Kandros...I'm going to lead this team through this adjutant infested sector, find that reactor, bring down the forcefields, and bring about the end of Petrovsky's brief reign on this station. All I ask is that you put aside your fear and work with us here...we can't do this without you."

"Right," Nyreen replied brusquely, looking slightly overwhelmed. The turian, for all her special forces training, looked as mentally disarmed as the average civvie: completely conflicted in what they should do next. In the end, with her pressure piling up, she gave a quick nod: ever so brief that one would miss it if they blinked, "I can do this.  _We_ can do this."

He shook his head, before turning to rejoin his team, "It's not a case of  _can_ we do it, but that we  _have_ too. I meant what I said...march to victory or defeat, but we march forward. We will not, and cannot, turn back. They're relying on us to bring down those fields. We cannot let them down."

_And even if they don't know it, the people of Omega are relying on us. The fate of this station effectively rests with us now._

Nyreen turned to join him just as he rejoined the squad awaiting near the dead Cerberus team. Aria rolled her eyes as she uncrossed her arms, bringing out her shotgun once more, "I'm guessing you convinced Nyreen to say with us?" the asari tossed a glare in the turian's direction, indicating she had heard every word and wasn't happy with her ex-girlfriend's perceived cowardice.

"Nyreen didn't need much convincing," he stated in her defense, "She knows the stakes."

"Oh, well that's fortunate," the asari pirate queen exclaimed cynically, raising her shotgun in preparation to continue, "Well, if we've had enough of all the fucking heroics and more of your outlandish speeches, then I suggest we get moving. Every minute we waste is a minute this station remains under a Cerberus banner. One should always seek medical treatment immediately upon knowing of an infection."

"That was poetic," Kasumi remarked over the comm quietly, Marcus turning to see her directly the statement to Garrus. She had deliberately switched to their special squad communications, one Aria nor Nyreen had access to, "Like, in the disturbing, 'I'm an authoritarian dictator', sort of way. You know, the kind people  _love_  to associate with."

"Yeah, I'm sure she's a real laugh at parties," the turian retorted.

"I'm just happy she's not the asari councilor," Liara added, "Imagine the casualties."

"Have you seen how Tevos bends over for Aria? She practically already is the asari councilor...at least when she visits the Citadel," Marcus pointed out, "Anyway, cut the chatter," he had noticed Aria frowning back at the group, obviously eager to get moving. Nyreen had joined her, rifle drawn and scanning the area ahead. Marcus simply raised his geth pulse rifle, motioning for his squad to do the same, before he continued the march onward, carefully moving past the dead beneath them.

The silence was deafening at this point. The drills were heavily muted by the thick walls of the chamber, making it so that all they could hear was their own footsteps on the metal grating, the groaning of the support struts taking up their weight, and the sound of their own breathing. Their night vision did wonders for their eyesight, and Marcus had even turned it off once or twice to measure the darkness...aside from the cones of light erupting from the flashlights of those around him, he couldn't even see his own hand  _right infront of his face._  Suffice to say, he was sticking to the night vision. "How are you guys holding up?" he whispered.

"It's quiet enough that if I stop breathing people will take notice," Kasumi joked, although her voice was wavering and nervous, "Suffice to say, Shep, it's a bit terrifying."

"Tali?"

"Me? I'm fine. Quarians have natural night vision."

"Yes...but how are you feeling?"

"Oh...how would you put it? Ah. That's right: I'm scared shitless."

"Kaidan?"

"I feel like if I check my corners one more time I'm going to go insane. My arms ache from doing it so many times."

"James?"

"I've checked my belt for grenades about fifteen times in the past minute. Is that healthy, Loco? Should I be doing that?"

"Meh, we all have our lucky charms. Grenades just happen to be yours."

"I'll just pretend that's what it's for. Lucky charms. Got it, Loco."

"Is there currently  _anyone_ not scared right about now?"

"I am not currently experiencing the hyperactive and threatened organic disorder known as fear," Moses replied, "Or perhaps that is because I am a machine, not an organic. I do not fear death in the same way."

"Moses," Kasumi's voice piqued, "When the adjutants come running...I'm hiding behind you. Just giving fair warning."

"Him? What about me?" Garrus exclaimed, sounding offended.

"You're made of meat and bones. Moses is just a walking sheet of metal with a really big gun. Two guesses as to who I trust to turn tail and run."

"Turn tail and run? Gee, thanks Kasumi. Talk about demasculation."

"You were never masculine, Garbear!"

"Oh spirits, this again..."

"Would you shut up for a second!"

The squad came to a complete stop, Marcus turning to the source of the shout. It had been Aria, the asari dropped in a crouch, shotgun level with her shoulders. Nyreen was beside her, SMG in one hand and pistol in the other, duel wielding them as she looked around frantically. Marcus jogged up to them, crouching beside Aria, "What? What is it?"

"Nyreen heard something," the asari said, putting it as succintly as she could.

"I didn't just hear it. I  _saw_ it," Nyreen defended, now looking up and down the gangway, "I only saw it for a second, but it was huge, fast and was looking straight at me."

"Funny that I never saw it, Nyreen," Aria retorted, standing up, whilst lowering her shotgun, "You have a knack for jumping to conclusions. If there was an adjutant right here with us, it would have attacked by now.  _Should_ have."

"Perhaps so," the turian lowered her weapons, holstering her pistol but still keeping an eye on the area ahead of her, "But I wouldn't be taking any chances. My motion tracker definitely pinged with movement," she turned to Aria and Marcus, "What about yours?"

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging, "But I was out of range, so it's possible it didn't pick it up."

"Aria?"

"I've turned it off, so no."

"Turned it off? Are you insane? Who has no motion tracker in combat?"

Aria just chuckled, patting Nyreen's shoulder, "Because, my dear Nyreen, I'm used to the fuckers being  _right infront of me_. You know, Cerberus and the people who want me dead...I don't need a motion tracker to tell me that I've got enemies around me...I can bloody see them. I just forgot to turn it on," the asari grumbled, reaching up her omni-tool and flicking a few buttons. For a brief moment, a holographic circle appeared above her arm, before vanishing, "There, it's on now, happy? Perhaps you'll stop giving me that fucking death glare."

"I wasn't glaring."

"Oh, do stop Nyreen. It may be dark, but I have night vision. I could see you glaring."

"Well, it was pretty stupid not to have a motion tracker."

"Yeah, we might encounter a Xenomorph."

The two women turned to look at him, frowning and confused. Aria was the one to speak though, "A Xeno-fucking-what?"

He sighed, shaking his head as he pushed past them, "Just another obscure human pop culture reference. Forget I mentioned it."

As the squad continued, they came across another butchered Cerberus squad, this time a slightly smaller unit, but far more diverse in terms of the combat classes presented. He came to a complete stop as he felt his foot not just brush, but fully bump into, the lower torso of a dead dragoon. His upper half was nowhere to found, but given the massive, thick blood trail and where it lead, it was likely tossed off the edge. A second dead dragoon lay against the railing with his dead missing, a bloody stump all that remained. Three phantoms, a nemesis and six assault troopers were also present, all of them equal parts dead, and obvious victims of an adjutant attack.

"More bodies," Marcus declared, raising a fist for the squad to tread carefully, "These don't look fresh. Considering how much further they got than the first team we encountered, it's possible this was an older team. Makes you wonder how long Petrovsky's been launching these futile attacks...and how many were successful."

"Successful?" Liara asked, "You believe some of these were fruitful?"

"Think about it," Marcus began to elaborate, pointing towards the carnage, "Do you honestly he would continue to waste resources and men throwing them at a problem that's yielding no results? He's still doing it because he's succeeded in the past, proving it can be done. Which makes me wonder how many times he's succeeded...how many adjutants has he captured, and for what purpose?"

Nyreen scoffed, "If he's smart, he's developing a counter-weapon so that he can kill these things and reclaim this part of the station."

"Doesn't seem enough like Cerberus," Garrus shot back, meaning it as a joke, but with an underlying truth to it. After all, Cerberus always looked at threats and saw potential weapons...it was sort of their motto at this point. Rachni? Let's try and control them. Geth? Project Overlord. Reapers? Let's try and control them too. Marcus wouldn't be surprised if Petrovsky was retrieving adjutants to learn how to control them.

_Funnily enough though, the adjutants are_ _**previous** _ _Cerberus creations. After all, they aren't Reaper design...Cerberus birthed them. Then they got out of control, and now they're trying to reclaim them...to make them slaves to their will, just as they tried in the first place. But the true question is whether or not Petrovsky is doing this of his own volition, or if the Illusive Man ordered it. He does have an obsession with controlling the Reapers, and the adjutants scream 'Reaper' in every way it seems._

"Whatever the case, it won't mean anything for much longer," Aria declared, as if she had just  _now_ reached this conclusion. She stepped over the dragoon's body, moving forward whilst ignoring the sick array of death around her, "Just as long as our corpses don't join them."

"That's one way to put it," Keeling pointed out, moving to join her, coldly moving through the smorgasbord of cadavers. One by one, the squad continued their dangerous trek, and eventually passed the bodies altogether.

A few minutes later, just as they were getting ready to reach the intersection, a loud bang of something landing on the grating was heard behind them, several meters back. All of them spun around, weapons snapping to aim at the source of the noise. Marcus, having now moved towards the back, momentarily picked up a blink on his motion tracker, the angry ping dissipating after one alert. His flashlight illuminated that area, but landed on nothing but empty space. Through his night vision, he could see nothing, nor hear it. But the entire squad had heard it...it was impossible to miss given how loud it had been...but there was nothing there.

"These things are like fucking ghosts, Loco!" James exclaimed, unable to keep himself silent, "I heard it! I know everybody else heard it! But look, there's nothing!"

"I thought you said these adjutants don't stalk, Kandros," Marcus queried, weapon sweeping from right to left, ready in case it leapt from the darkness to attack them at any moment, "Yet this adjutant seems intent on doing just that. And it's definitely here. We all heard it."

"I wish it would come out and fight," Javik mused, the prothean looking increasingly frustrated with their situation, "If it were Reaper, it would. Reaper husks have no fear, and are too stupid to have a concept of real tactics. It is clear that this...adjutant...is smarter than we give it credit for."

"Javik has something nice to say about our cycle?" Garrus asked, sounding genuinely surprised. After the moment of silence that the turian took for an answer of yes, he turned to Liara, giddy, "Take a note of that one, Liara. 'Likes adjutants.' Perhaps we can make him an adjutant birthday cake, or get him one for his birthday."

"I would prefer a dead Reaper," Javik surprisingly joked in return. It appeared their attitude was beginning to rub off on even the cold prothean soldier, "It is larger, more likely to be dead, and would help satiate my need for dead Reapers."

There was another bang, this time in front of them. Again, their reaction was instantaneous, but by the time their weapons were aimed at that spot, the adjutant was gone. However, there was one other sound none of them could miss.

A low growl. Nobody could tell where the sound came from due to how disembodied it was and how it echoed across the chamber, but everybody took it as confirmation that they were being watched.

Marcus reacted immediately, "Everybody, form up! Tight formation, get in a circle!" His squad, like a well oiled machine, did just that without question, huddling together with their weapons firmly raised and fingers tapping their respective triggers. Marcus took up the side facing behind them, while Aria and Nyreen took the sides. In a tight circle, they were able to see every side, with Moses in the middle, allowing them a full 360 view of the entire chamber: this would allow them to see the adjutants when they came.

Not a sound could be heard...until there was that low growl again.

"Okay, now it's just playing with us," Kasumi complained, "I think I'd prefer if it just straight up tried to kill us."

"I'd prefer if it didn't attack us at all," Liara added, the asari sounding more nervous than her usual, confident self would usually portray.

EDI, who had been silent the entire time regarding their predicament, spoke up, "We could ask it politely to drop dead, if you wish."

"A joke?" Marcus asked.

She smiled, looking proud of herself, "Am I getting better?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow, but given how the AI likely couldn't even see it, he just shook his head, "A little bit. You need to work on your timing."

"I see," EDI, to her credit, didn't sound dejected, simply taking it as she normally did: with calm non-chalance, simply acknowledging his response like a scientist would a mistake, "I shall consult with Jeff back on the  _Normandy_."

Another growl, this one further away, but still loud enough to be heard by all. This silenced the entire group, who were now more tense than ever before, all of them watching their designated zones like hawks...if the adjutant so much as flinched in their direction, they would tear it apart...although, given Nyreen's description of the creatures as nearly invincible, Marcus wasn't sure such an action would do them much good...especially if the sound of gunfire drew in more of the damn creatures.

"I take back what I said," Javik grumbled, the prothean sounding beyond irritated, "This creature will soon see the end of my patience."

"Like  _I_ said," their resident thief reiterated, "I  _wish_ it would just try and  _kill us_ already. This adjutant is giving me a run for my money in the stealth department. I didn't think a husk could be so quiet and evasive."

"Yeah, well the fucker better show himself soon, or I'm going to rip it a new asshole," Aria spat in her usual colorful manner, "Piece of shit keeps growling like a dog. I hate dogs."

"Didn't know that you even knew what a dog was," Kaidan commented.

"I've seen a few of them in my time. They're just a poor man's varren."

"Except cuter. And more cuddly."

"And fucking useless. A varren would tear one of them apart."

"They're a...well, a human's best friend?"

"Then humans have really shit taste."

"Knock it off, both of you," Nyreen snapped, "Your arguing will attract more adjutants. We're just dealing with one at the moment, and we should aim to keep it that way. Shepard...any suggestions on how to proceed?"

 _Stay here and wait for it to come to us...but if we do that, it could call for reinforcements. So that's not an option. We move forward...only forward._ "Yeah, I do. We stick to this formation and we push on. We've got to reach that reactor. If the adjutant continues to stalk us, so be it, just be on your guard. When it attacks, and we know it eventually will, we empty everything we have into it until its dead. And yes, I know you said its basically invulnerable to bullets, but until we find a proper way to kill it, it's all we've got. Aria, lead the way."

And so the squad continued into the darkness, the adjutant still stalking them the entire way, whilst they made for the intersection, following Aria's instructions. The thing was, the squad didn't know where the adjutant that was stalking them even was, and what worried them more, was how long it would take for it to call for its friends...

...because if it did, the fate of that Cerberus squad is what awaited them.

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_1120 hours._

_Medical Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate CAW Deliverance, Dyuko Dock, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Captain Armistan Banes, Major Randall Ezno, Chief Medical Officer Walter Waycross._

"Spare me the details, doctor. Will he live or not?"

Doctor Walter Waycross, the chief medical officer on the  _Deliverance_ , sighed and glared at his captain as he was so rudely interrupted. The man was short for a man of his age, barely averaging the height of the average 20-year-old male, despite being in his late fifties. He possessed a bit of a beer gut, although it was modestly enclosed in his favourite, bright white jacket, with so many pockets you could probably fit seven bandoliers worth of thermal clips into them and still have room for more. He had brown eyes, dark skin, a rather large nose, small lips, and was bald to the point of hairlessness. He didn't even have a beard, as what little hair he had was dedicated to a rather pathetic goatee on his small, pointed chin. He had meek shoulders, but stood tall with the pride of a medical professional. And he was one of the best medical experts in Cerberus, having devised many of the medical breakthroughs in Cerberus' bioweapons division. The man was a genius, even if he was lacking in sheer stature.

"Yes," he drew out the word with annoyance, as if to make sure Banes knew he was not pleased at being cut off. He motioned to the bed containing the patient in question, doing so exhaustively and with enough carelessness to weigh in with his demeanour. Even if the man was intelligent, he addressed his work like that of a man who had grown bored with his profession, "His wounds would have killed any other man, but his cybernetics are what's saving him. I patched up what I can, but we have to give his implants time to do the rest...which shouldn't be long."

Banes clasped his hands behind his back, ignoring Randall behind him, who stood silently on his left like a bodyguard, " _How_ long? Petrovsky will need him field deployable soon, no doubt."

Waycross shrugged, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he ran the maths in his head, "A day. If the injures are really that bad, maybe two at the maximum."

Banes nodded, "That's acceptable. I shall inform General Petrovsky that our ever-so-loved assassin will live to see another day...unfortunately."

Waycross frowned, looking ever so slightly disturbed by the comment, "Sir, this is an agent of-"

"-the Illusive Man, yes, yes," the captain replied curtly, thoroughly disinterested.  _Everybody here is an agent of the Illusive Man. Competence is what I factor, not allegiance._ "However, Leng is notoriously...difficult...to work with, not to mention that for a former special forces operative, he's exceptionally stupid, as well as incompetent."

"Built to kill, with little else to his name," Randall piped up, ending his silence. Banes turned to see him regarding Leng's unconscious form, the assassin under a powerful anaesthetic to keep him from trying to leave before his injuries had properly healed, "I've said it before. He's a simpleton, and dangerous. Of course, our failure to end Shepard was hardly his fault."

"We can discuss  _that_ liberal interpretation of whatever the fuck happened out there, later," Banes shot back, silencing the operative. Unlike Leng, who would likely snap back with some asinine remark that would dig him into a further pit of trouble, Randall simply raised an eyebrow at the captain, before nodding and falling silent once more. It appeared Randall represented the brains of the duo, if that's what Leng and Randall could be called.

 _An alliance of inconvenience, would be more appropriate. Dynamic duo, even...haha, ironically of course. I can't think of any progress to put to their name...they can't even kill one man while isolated from his peers, even if that man is Shepard._ He turned back to Waycross, who had been almost forgotten.  _The man's quite the complex of a mouse, the motivation of a sloth, coupled with the intelligence of a machine. What a...ludicrous...combination of qualities._ "Ensure that Agent Leng remains indisposed until he's ready to actually leave. You'll be doing the crew of this ship a favor, not to mention myself. After all, I get to have a full day without hearing his gibberish and rhetoric about Shepard."  _How blissful that would be. I don't need to hear every five seconds about how Shepard is an irritating mosquito. He makes that apparent enough._

Waycross nodded meekly, turning to return to his desk, "I'll make sure to do just that."

"Good," he stated simply, twisting on the spot as he left the medbay. Randall was not far behind, the operative matching his captain step for step, remaining silent the entire time as they moved through the mess hall, past the crew corridor, and summoned the elevator. Not a single word was exchanged with the other until the elevator arrived, they stepped inside, and he hit the button for the CIC deck.

"Before you berate me regarding the failure of our mission to kill Shepard, I'll remind you that there is only so much two cybernetically enhanced supersoldiers can do against biotic opponents."

"Oh, so you can read minds now, Major?" Banes quipped, clenching his jaw, "Your failure to kill Shepard does not anger me. It's the fact you tried it to begin with."

He noticed Randall frown at that, "We were under orders. General Petrovsky ordered the attack himself. He gave an order, and I followed it."

He inwardly sighed.  _Randall, such a fucking dutifiul one. Always loyal, and always following orders to the letter...to hell with the consequences. For a man who is so intelligent, he is so...blind._ "And you didn't think to advise our good general against it? The attack was a waste of time  _and_ manpower. Manpower better spent helping our dwindling forces  _push back_ the  _UGC_."

"The entire  _assault_ was a waste of time and manpower. Any intervention on our part wouldn't have changed the outcome. It's quite possible we'd just add to the casualties," Randall replied, regarding Banes like an idiot who needed everything spelled out for him, "The attempt on Shepard's life had merit. He was completely cut off from his squad and forces, I had a combat engineer blocking any calls for help, and he was against not one, but two, cybernetically enhanced soldiers of similar kill to himself, all without guns. Miss T'Loak and General Kandros got lucky...otherwise, we would have presented Shepard's head to the Illusive Man by now."

Banes just smiled bitterly, licking his lips with some amusement, "And yet his head remains on his shoulders, Leng has been effectively hospitalized and you're one combat engineer short," he leaned in to emphasize his last statement, "That's a failure in my book."

Randall remained unflinching, as he always did. The man was practically unfazed by anything: he took no offense, he took defeat in stride and victory with a shrug, he was silently loyal and deafeningly lethal, and despite all of that, he had the demeanour of a robot. Sometimes he even wondered if Randall was one of those geth infiltrators C-Sec liked to harp on about during the interim era, "I never claimed otherwise. However, as I said, T'Loak and Kandros got lucky...there was nothing wrong with our mission plan. The plan was to lure the UGC closer and closer into the courtyard, keeping them distracted with our remaining forces so that Leng and myself could sneak away, lure Shepard into closed confines, and then cut the head off the snake."

Banes just scoffed, "Petrovsky sacrificed two regiments for that foolish stunt? The man is beginning to test the legend. By legend, I mean his supposed tactical brilliance. He's made many blunders so far."  _Petrovsky this, Petrovsky that...he's the greatest general the Alliance ever had! What a joke...although I guess we can't expect much from the remnant of a dying Russia...always think too highly of themselves those fucking Russos._

"As have you, last I checked," Randall fired back, causing Banes to freeze momentarily, "The  _Deliverance_ was defeated,  _again_ , by the  _Normandy._ The Illusive Man may just start questioning your competence. Petrovsky has plans that hold merit, and are simply thwarted due to the fallibility of his ground commanders. You'll also remember that the operation in the Tuhi District was overseen by Colonel Amish, not the General. As for you...well, that  _failure_ is entirely your fault."

 _It couldn't be helped. The Normandy held superior weapons and cloaking. What was I supposed to do in that situation_ _ **other**_ _than withdraw?_ Before Banes could reply, the elevator arrived at their destination, and the door slid open. Tossing a quick salute in the direction of Yeoman Nicholas. She gave the laziest of salutes in return, before returning to leaning over her console, chatting away with another CIC deck crew member. Banes paid them no mind, simply walking around the main galaxy map and heading up the flight deck, Randall no further than a few paces behind him.

Reaching the steps to the flight deck, he rounded on the operative, grabbing him by his front neckpiece and pulling him forward so their faces were inches apart, "I could have you transferred in a heartbeat: do not test my patience."

Randall shrugged once more, hand shooting up to grab Banes', clenching tightly. The captain winced slightly as his unprotected hand was slowly crushed in the grip of the former corsair's armoured gauntlet, "Then transfer me. I serve Cerberus, not you. Not the Illusive Man. Not Petrovsky. Only Cerberus, only humanity's interests. However, you won't transfer me, because you need me. I am on this ship for a reason...and you will not circumvent those principles. You need me more than Leng, and I don't see you getting rid of Leng anytime soon."

Banes found himself losing the battle of attrition with the operative, although he also inwardly acknowledged that Randall was correct. He did indeed the manhunter more than Leng, as the man exhibited more professionalism than the unpredictable, rabid assassin...and there was no way in hell the Illusive Man would let Banes get rid of a powerful asset. Banes was stuck with the manhunter, and he had to accept that.

He finally removed his grip on the man's armor, pulling his hand back and clasping it behind his back so as to not show that the man's grip had affected him, leaving a red, bruised skin behind. He nodded, gritted his teeth and silently walked up the flight deck, Randall wordlessly following him. Neither side exchanged any further conversation, passed the cockpit (where Flores was absent, likely in the mess hall), and into the airlock. They waited for the decontamination process to end, before exiting the ship, heading down the empty docking bay as they proceeded to Afterlife.

"I'm sure you're aware that Petrovsky has summoned us," Banes announced, breaking the silence between the two of them. The General had indeed summoned them, although for what purpose was left unclear. Following the tactical withdrawal from the Rubicon quadrant, the Cerberus general had been mobilizing his troops in preparation for a fresh new assault. How this assault would play out was kept secret, likely to prevent the information falling into enemy hands...whatever it was though, it was massive. Petrovsky was pooling every available resource: every available aircraft, every piece of armor, every single trooper at his disposal.

Randall nodded, "Yes. It did not seem urgent, but he urged us to come anyway."

As Banes opened his mouth to reply, the door ahead of them (which had been added by Cerberus when they knocked the wall down to add a few extra rooms for an armoury) opened, and two assault troopers walked out, checking their mattock rifles. They turned and rounded the corner, heading in the same direction as Banes and Randall, although not even acknowledging the two senior officers, "If he wanted to reprimand us, he would have done it over QEC. Instead he wanted to do this personally...makes me wonder what he has in store for us."  _He specifically requested both of us, and only us. Seems Leng was especially left out of the meeting...a pity for him, a gift for us. Obviously what he wants us for is extremely important, even if not urgent._

Turning the corner, Banes and Randall walked straight through the already open door, the two troopers having just walked through it. They emerged into the central Dyuko District, with New Order HQ directly across from them. Banes could immediately see that the fortification of the area had been completed, with machine gun nests placed in the makeshift, hexagonal pillboxes that lined the perimeter facing the barracks: in total, two pillboxes covered each flank, each with a Steelhead sentry turret placed ontop. Mortar teams stood at the ready, each surrounded by sandbags and barbed wire to keep them from being easily overrun. Several armoured vehicles had been moved into position, including a Megalodon tank. Two M45 Goblins sat at the very back, readied to provide close range artillery fire support. Remotely detonated mines were placed along the twin paths leading from the barracks, placed there following the slaughter of their forces at Tuhi by rachni troops...those mines should thin their ranks considerably, allowing their machine guns and heavy turrets to slice through what remained. Anti-aircraft emplacements lined the area overlooking the cityscape, ensuring their bombers and gunships could attack their ground emplacements with impunity. And Farland had at least a full regiment worth of troops prepped to man the fort.

Thus far, the area was impregnable. Just as Petrovsky likely needed it.

"Looks like Petrovsky is ready for a last stand, if necessary," Banes noted out loud, "Although we should hope it will never come to that."

"We still significantly outnumber Shepard and Aria's forces. Losing four thousand men has done nothing to impede our army," Randall complimented Banes' statement, although not too confidently, "Regardless, this set up is wise. If the UGC manages to break through our lines and make a beeline for the HQ, we shall be ready...again, let us hope it never comes to that."

"Hope is all we can wish for," came the familiar voice to their immediate left.

Banes twisted on the spot to see Petrovsky on his left, having just emerged from the door there. He had two assault troopers accompanying him, but these soldiers wore jet black armor with gold stripes as opposed to the usual white and gold, with their usually 'fat' armor being much thinner around the waist, and a backpack. They both carried custom painted M-99 Saber rifles, with M-11 suppressors for sidearms. The usual red optics of their helmets were a dim, subtle blue, and in addition to the usual shock baton, they wielded sharp looking blades, all of them sheathed upside down on their breastplate. It didn't take Banes long to recognize them as the elite special forces of Cerberus, known as Shadow Force. He had never actually seen them in combat, but from what he had heard, they had a nigh unbeatable success rate, completing 9 missions of 10. When the Illusive Man desperately wanted someone gone, a place destroyed or a position held...Shadow Force was his go-to unit. And it just so happened that Petrovsky had an entire company at his command.

Banes snapped a salute, as did Randall behind him, before lowering his arm, "We were just coming to see you, General. You summoned us quite unexpectedly and with little urgency."

Petrovsky nodded, stepping back as he motioned them towards the door he emerged from. The two troopers wordlessly stepped out of the way, somehow doing so in complete silence: no words were spoken, no nod of the head, not a single creak of armor or the sound of boots impacting the ground. He had heard rumors that members inducted into Shadow Force swore an oath of silence, and that those deemed incapable of fullfilling that oath had their tongues removed...they relied solely on hand signals. Banes imagined this would have made teamwork exceptionally difficult, but given how effectively they operated, they obviously had a work around. A new form of implant, perhaps?

They were an imposing sight nonetheless...even as Banes walked past, he felt himself suddenly belittled by the two soldiers, even if they were lower in rank than him. Randall had no such qualms marching right past the two troopers with a calm ease, having no doubt worked with them before. Banes increased his pace to keep up with him, and he noted that Petrovsky was now following behind them as well.

Still confused as to the purpose of this venture, he turned to the General, frowning, "Tell me General, what exactly is this about? I understand the need for secrecy, but we are face-to-face now, so surely it wouldn't hurt to tell us what this is all about?"

Petrovsky nodded, walking past both of them with his guards in tow as they reached a nearby elevator. The guards on duty, these ones standard troopers, stepped out of the way and saluted, they too looking intimidated by the Shadow troopers. Banes and Randall simply followed, stepping into the elevator with the General and watching as he selected the floor seven stories below, the door closing and the elevator quickly making its descent.

Finally, Petrovsky gave an explanation, however vague, "The Illusive Man, as you know, has many projects under his wing...some of them involve intelligence, others involve espionage. Most popular however is research into controlling the Reapers, as you may well know. And whilst I don't agree with all of them, they are all equally important. What I'm about to show you normally requires the highest levels of clearance...that means a Level 9 Security Clearance card, which only a total of one hundred personnel in Cerberus have access to, including myself and the Illusive Man. Under no circumstances, you'd be executed for even looking in the direction of these labs, hence their obscurity."

"I thought the seventh storey of this building was sealed off due to maintenance issues," Banes asked, arms crossed, "But I'm guessing that was just a cover up isn't it? Why only now show us this? What exactly are they doing down there that even we, those without clearance, are now allowed to see it? Does the Illusive Man know of this?"

The General gave an ever so brief nod, "He does. We have spoken at length, and eventually concluded it was necessary for you to know. That is why I did not extend the same courtesy to Leng...we agreed that the assassin is unreliable at best, and not to be trusted with such sensitive military information."

"Call the man what you wish, General," Randall began, surprising Banes' with his defense of the assassin, "A moron, yes. A fool, definitely. But the man's loyalty is undeniable. He is as dedicated to our cause as you and me, even if his methods of conveying that differ."

"His loyalty is not in doubt. However, his ability to withhold information is. He has proven to be of a loud mouth, and if he were to let slip these details to the wrong trooper or, perhaps even Shepard during combat, then the entire operation would be compromised...and the contents of this project would force the UGC to take rather aggressive action."

The elevator finally arrived at the mysterious seventh level, and the door shot open. They were immediately greeted by what looked like an observation center, with a door to the far right. A control terminal stretched a few meters across the opposite side, with an observation window directly infront of it, and several chairs for shift workers to sit on. Only one was currently seated: an assault trooper with his helmet removed and seated on top of the terminal. Upon seeing the General, he shot up and saluted, remaining still until Petrovsky returned it and motioned to the door. The trooper immediately understood his meaning.

Reaching into one of the pockets on his armor, he pulled out a blank, white card and headed for the right side of the door, where a blue, holographic interface appeared. Petrovsky walked to the left and produced his own version of the card, and together, in perfect sync, they lined up their cards with the respective interfaces. Once that was done, Petrovsky put his card away and spoke into the interface, "Petrovsky, Oleg. Serial Number: OP-771-259-876-001. Security Clearance: 9. Personal password:  _Loyal'nost' navsegda_."

The VI seemed to take that as acceptable, "Welcome General Petrovsky."

The guard resumed his seat at the terminal, whilst the door, after a few seconds, shot open, the orange field behind it also dissipating. Turning to Banes and Randall, he motioned for them to enter the lab, before doing so himself, his two guards following suit in their usual silent fashion. Banes, remaining cautious, wondered if this was a test of somekind, but eventually shrugged it off and walked inside.  _The security here is tight...a secret level, physical cards instead of omni-tool credentials to avoid hacks, a voice recognition that only recognizes a certain tone, not to mention a personal password and serial number, and ontop of that, a forcefield. All of that, for_ _ **one**_ _door._

The chamber itself was quite large. There were two levels to the lab itself, with a balcony making up the entirety of the second level. On both levels, several, self-contained rooms were seperated by thick bulkheads, each with their own levels of sub-clearance. Along the walls were numerous sleeper pods, all of them much larger than the ones on the  _Deliverance_ , and looking more suited to fitting a yahg more than a human. All of the pods were tinted, which hid the contents within them, but all of them were active, and clearly housing inhabitants. The lighting was bright, and as Banes turned, he could see the observation window in the observation center was one-sided, meaning he couldn't see into the center, and the center couldn't see into the lab...not only that, but it looked to be bulletproof. Each pod lit up bright purple, humming rhythmically, like that of a ship's engines but much more muted.

The room wasn't quite packed, but it definitely had its fair share of people. At least a dozen or so scientists occupied the lower level, milling about in their Cerberus uniforms whilst several RAMPART mechs guarded the corners, protecting against intruders. Some of them carried datapads, others used their omni-tools. One looked to be typing away at a terminal beside the sleeper pod in the center of the room, which looked to have been brought down via crane from the upper storey. A massive golden hexagon was painted along the main wall, making up the entirety of the two stories in size.

Petrovsky, waiting for him beside the central sleeper pod, spoke as Banes and Randall finally stopped infront of him, "Welcome to Project Adversity, the Illusive Man's latest, and possibly most important, project. You'll soon understand the need for such secrecy." With that, the General turned to the scientist behind him and gave a simple nod. The woman seemed to understand this, as she simply tapped a single command onto the terminal before stepping back and clasping her hands behind her back. Petrovsky signalled for his two Shadow troopers to stand back and take aim with their rifles at the pod. They did so without question, stepping back several paces whilst the clicks of their rifles sounded to demonstrate the safeties had been switched off.

Banes frowned, turning to look up at the pod as it decompressed, air bursting out as they popped the tinted glass lid on the pod. The glass on it looked to be bulletproof too, proving to the captain that whatever was inside was not only big, but extremely dangerous. He too took a step back for caution's sake, whilst Randall remained in place, looking up with some curiosity. Petrovsky did the same, although it was only now that Banes noticed he had a carnifex sidearm attached to his hip.

_He's usually_ _**never** _ _armed. What the fuck is in that pod?_

Finally, the lid was fully lifted, and the thick clouds of green gas that was inside cleared out, spiralling up into the air where it dissipated.

Upon seeing what was inside, Banes found himself subconsciously backing up very quickly, reaching to his side for a pistol that wasn't there. Randall looked just as startled, pulling out his rifle and quickly taking aim at the creature inside.

But the adjutant did not move. It didn't even flinch. It wasn't even awake.

Petrovsky's hand shot up and grabbed the top of Randall's rifle, pushing it downwards, "Hold your fire, major. Simply watch."

Banes' relief at the adjutant being sleep quickly disappeared once he realized the gas was likely what had been  _keeping_ it in that state. Soon, those evil, purple glowing eyes began to sneak open, the adjutant stirring from its slumber. Banes stiffened again, and he could see that Randall, despite all his instincts telling him to assume a battle posture, was struggling to follow Petrovsky's orders and remain on standby. Even Banes found himself reluctantly staying put, whilst secretly wanting to run for the nearest exit. No man wanted to be in the same room as an adjutant, let alone without armament. Even with Shadow Force troopers behind him and half a dozen RAMPARTs, no man should feel safe around an adjutant.

_Is the General that much of a fool that he's brought an adjutant up from the abandoned levels? What if it escapes!? What then!? We'll have another uncontrollable outbreak, right in the middle of a war with the UGC! I'm seriously losing it with this man's judgement!_

The adjutant finished waking up, its comparatively small arms pushing it up and out of the pod, where it landed with a loud thud. The scientist backed away, but only slightly, as if completely unfazed by the beast before her.  _He should be shitting himself._ The adjutant paid her no mind however, its legs pushing it up until it stood towering over them, its glowing 'brain' radiating an immense glow across the room. It made that hidious gurgling sound as it looked at all of them, the puny creatures that they were compared to it, the tendrils protruding from where its mouth should be dripping with black liquid. It's clawed, five-fingered hands scraped at the deck, the creature on all fours as it sniffed and growled.

But, to Banes' confusion, the adjutant made no move to attack them. The reports he read had stated that the adjutants were utterly primal in their actions, and that if they so much as sniffed an organic, they would attack and rip them apart. But this one simply stood there, looking at them, as if wandering who to infect first.

"Subject Ten," Petrovsky spoke, his voice loud and assertive.

The adjutant's head snapped to look at him, but still made no motion to attack, barely lifting a finger to the General. Seemingly confident that he was safe, Petrovsky, to his befuddlement and shock, approached the husk until he was inches from it. Reaching up a hand, he flattened his palm and pressed it against the adjutant's chest.

Banes thought for a moment that it might swipe at the General, bissecting him and transforming him. Instead, it simply looked down at him, looking more curious than it did aggressive. Still confused, all he could do was watch as Petrovsky stepped back, and waved his hand back and forth. The adjutant, like a well trained dog, tracked the hand movement as it swung back and forth. Finished with that, the General lowered his hand, once again raising his voice as he spoke, "Subject Ten..." he turned to the nearest RAMPART mech, and pointed to it, "Destroy that mech."

Without an once of hesitation, the adjutant twisted on the spot, and leapt. The RAMPART, being nothing more than a machine, simply stood still and watched as the adjutant landed upon it, claws slashing and tearing apart bits of armor plating and circuits with it. Within seconds, the mech had been completely gutted and torn asunder, leaving nothing but a mess of metal and ruined circuits and chasis, as well as a lone shotgun.

"Good, now return to me," Petrovsky ordered. Again, without a single bit of reluctance, the adjutant turned and leapt back to where it was before, and remained there, not moving an inch or raising a single finger to harm anyone else. The General turned to Banes, before nodding to the scientist. Looking back up at Subject Ten, he motioned for the pod, "Ten, return to your pen. Sleep now."

The adjutant returned to the pod as ordered, fitting itself into the position it had assumed previously before closing its eyes as the lid closed back over it, gas filling the chamber to ensure it remained asleep. The demonstration over, the General's Shadow troopers stood down, lowering their rifles completely, but remaining in place. Randall too holstered his weapon once he saw there was no danger.

"What you just saw Captain Banes was the fruit of Project Adversity," Petrovsky declared, pointing to the pod, "Finishing what Project Avernus started: adjutants under our control, bending to our will. The first line of Reaper-inspired, huskified shock troops under Cerberus guidance and control."

"It's rather impressive," Randall admitted, "I never would have believed it had you of told me beforehand, General. Now that I've seen it with my own eyes...it cannot be denied. Adversity was a success."

The General nodded, but did not smile. He never seemed to smile at all, "Indeed, but that is only the first step to the project: now we must build up an army. So far Subject Ten, Fourteen, Twenty-One and Twenty-Two are the only adjutants we've acquired that successfully passed testing: they're ready for field deployment, but the other six will take sometime to implement. Acquiring these adjutants has also taken a toll on our forces. I've had to sacrifice numerous squads just to capture one. No doubt I've sent many men to their deaths to acquire these specimens, so we should be glad this project was as successful as it was."

Banes nodded, shaking his head to get rid of the anxiety he had felt moments before. He finally stood up straighter, realizing he had been a position of ready escape the entire time. Straightening his uniform, he tried to regain some measure of professionalism, "I can see why this was kept secret. If Shepard learnt of this...it's likely the UGC would have thrown everything at this lab in an attempt to destroy it and the research here."

"Too true," Petrovsky stated, "I, myself, was not convinced on Adversity's necessity, but the Illusive Man disagrees, and I must believe he knows what is best. Once the other six have finished implementation, I will begin field deployment of all ten of the converted adjutants within our armies. Together, they'll finish the job two regiments couldn't. We may even save lives...on our side, of course."

"Any word on the UGC force?" Randall asked, "Any further assaults?"

The General shook his head, motioning for them to head for the exit, but not before giving the female scientist a nod of appreciation as they left, "No, they've been suspiciously quiet. Although given what happened yesterday, they are likely licking their wounds as much as we are. They'll be ready for another assault within a week, give or take...by then, our naval reinforcements will have arrived. This war will soon turn in our favor, and I predict it will be over by next week."

Banes raised his eyebrows at that, "So soon?"

Petrovsky nodded, "With the adjutants deployed and our reinforcements chasing off their fleet, we'll have Shepard trapped. And with the plan I'm devising to finish him off, there's no reason to believe this war will last any longer than a few more days. As I said, I'll give it until next week before I'll declare total victory. Cerberus will hold Omega," reaching the door, they walked through, the guard on duty reenabling all the security checks from before as they entered the elevator, making their return to the Dyuko District, "As for Adversity, the scientists will be transferring what they've learnt to Operation Keyhold, to aid with whatever research they are doing. And before you ask, I do not know what Keyhold is, nor would I be at liberty to say. It seems Keyhold is even more classified than Adversity...so much so that even I'm not privy to such information."

"I've heard of Keyhold before," Randall announced, "All the major projects seem to link back to it. Whatever Keyhold is, it must be the quintessential project. All the research seems to lead directly to it."

Banes just shrugged, uncaring, "It's not up to us to question it. If Keyhold is that important, than it obviously holds a purpose...one that will be revealed to us in good time. Until then, we should steer clear of such questions: wouldn't want anyone to think we're getting too curious. No doubt you've made such people disappear in the past, Ezno."

"Too true."

As the elevator continued to rise, Petrovsky remained silent, having not participated in the conversation whatsoever. Banes couldn't pretend to know what was going through the General's mind, but he had a feeling he might have something to do with Petrovsky's previous...questions...regarding the Illusive Man's intentions. He had simply waved them off as moments of nervousness, but having now reconsidered that perspective, it seemed more and more likely he was simply disillusioned with their cause. One could be forgiven for questioning his loyalty, no matter how calm and collected he was.

Still, he didn't think it mattered much now. With Adversity recently revealed to them, and naval reinforcements on the way, the UGC invasion would soon be crushed, and Shepard hopefully captured. Then Leng could kill him, and Cerberus would prevail. The idea of their certain victory made Banes smile.

He was going to enjoy seeing Shepard try and work his way out of this one. He wouldn't see what hit him until it was too late.

**{Loading...}**

_The room was small, discreet. Out of sight and out of mind of the others. The rest of the UGC forces were recovering from the recent Cerberus assault whilst celebrating their victory as well...and what a victory it was. Cerberus had lost several gunships, numerous fighters and bomber aircraft, just over a dozen D-09 Atlases, hundreds of thousands of credits worth of equipment and weapons, and to top it all off, a devastating 4,000 casualties. Sure, compared to the 40,000 (or, as it was now, around 36,000) Petrovsky has at its command, it was a small price to pay. Nonetheless, a crushing victory for the invaders...or liberators, as Aria would have her people believing._

_Of course, the victory wouldn't have been possible without the timely arrival of the Talons. She had arranged for six squads to be deployed to the courtyard to help the UGC, and now they were here for the long run, contributing to the war effort. Aria had an entire room set up aside for them...although not without her prodding. Now they were all crammed into this tiny space, waiting for what fantastic plan came next. She had seen Shepard just before...spoken her mind, and he is. She liked to think the two reached a mutual agreement, and if not, at least some sort of respect for the other. He was a man of principle. More than could be said for Aria._

_One of her chief lieutenants, a gruff human Talon veteran by the name of Walter Pike, summoned her men to the center of the room when she ordered it. He was decidingly loyal now, although he hadn't always been that way...before the change in Talon MO, Pike was a criminal just like the rest of them, and one of Derius' chief enforcers. Nyreen had been assigned under his command when she joined, and although it took a while, she managed to transform Pike from the man he once was, to the man he now was. He still possessed some of the rough demeanour and ruthless approaches that he had under Derius, but now he used them for good...as a resistance fighter, not a cartel thug._

_He wasn't particularly handsome, although Nyreen reasoned that was largely her own fault. Pike once had gelled brown hair combed to the side, with a thick jaw, wide eyes, aged but smooth brown skin and a rounded nose. And then Nyreen happened...once she thought she was in a position to overthrow Derius, she had rallied what loyalists she had...unfortunately, Pike still wasn't convinced, so he challenged her to combat. Her loyalists subdued his own, and Nyreen and Pike battled one on one...he didn't go down easy, and he gave her a few scars she'll forever remember, including a deep cut along the scruff of her neck, and third-degree burns along her side from where he had almost hit her with an omni-blade, but the proximity had been enough to singe the skin badly. In the end, she gave him worse: now, he was bald due to her having used her own omni-blade to slice the top of his hair off, leaving him with a ridiculous looking bald spot...one he just decided to remove permanently, going bald. One eye was a discoloured red due to her having damaged it beyond repair, and he now wore a white, hockey-like mask to hide the permanent scarring that destroyed his facial features. She had apologized for it every occassion she got, but the man simply didn't seem to care, and was now entirely loyal to her._

_She still remembered the day Derius tried to kill her in her quarters, and Pike had stepped in to defend her. She could even recall the mixture of horror and disgust on Derius' pace when he ripped Pike's mask off. To do this day, she still doesn't know what his face truly looks like, as Pike refuses to show anyone. But if Derius' face was anything to go by..._

_Once all her men had been gathered, she began, arms crossed, and Pike standing to her right, "Okay men, you haven't heard about it yet, but I'm about to give you the heads up before Aria announces it. As of now, the final preparations to end this war are underway. Shepard will be taking his squad and venturing into the dark zone."_

_One of the Talons, a salarian, spoke up, all jittery and nervous, "That's suicide! Who thought this was a good idea? Why is it even being attempted?"_

_"Silence," Pike snapped, "the General is speaking." His voice was ice, his tone devoid of any real emotion. Nobody dared question him, and she knew that. The salarian's mouth clamped shut, visibly put off by the imposing figure of her top lieutenant._

_"Their mission is simple: the reactor is powering all the forcefields across the station, and they will bring them down, allowing our forces to flood every Cerberus controlled sector and overwhelm them, piece by piece. Whilst there, purging the adjutants will be made a secondary objective...after all, downing the forcefields will mean letting them free as well, and that is unacceptable."_

_"How can Shepard be trusted?" another questioned, this one a turian sergeant, "I trust Aria even less so. You told us we were supposed to be fighting against her, but now we're helping her? Why? She's no better than Petrovsky!"_

_"We don't fight for Aria," she shot back, "We fight for Omega: there is a difference. As for Shepard...I question his goal to put Aria back in charge, but that does not make him a loyal pet: he despises Aria just as much as we do. He's only doing this because he sees no other option, but in the end, he fights to liberate Omega."_

_"And yet he still helps her!" A batarian grumbled. She sighed, but before she could speak, the batarian continued, "I don't care about Bahak. I don't care about Torfan. The Hegemony can kiss my ass...that's why I'm here!" a gurgle, followed by him spitting on the ground, "I piss on the Regent, and I piss on Aria! I'm here because I fight for_ _**you** _ _, not some dictator I hate! You promised us a better Omega! Now you would help them put Aria back in control! It cannot happen! I will not have it!"_

_"Silence," the word was much stronger this time, promising death to the person who next spoke out of turn. He didn't so much as budge, but Nyreen knew from experience that he didn't need a gun to kill you from afar._

_Once total quiet was achieved, she spoke again, "Shepard wouldn't help her if he saw another way. Unfortunately, he doesn't. Aria's the best chance he's got at securing Omega for the war with the Reapers, and he first needs Cerberus out of the picture. Which is why we are helping him. However, helping people doesn't necessarily mean helping them achieve their objectives...we will not have Aria in control. Not again. Omega has had enough of her kind."_

_"Are you suggesting Shepard would just betray Aria?" another Talon shouted. She couldn't pick out who said in the crowd, except that the voice was female._

_She shook her head. "No, he's too smart for that. However, he would denounce support for her claim..._ _**if** _ _we provided another candidate. Right now, Aria has a monopolized claim...but if we offer a second choice, a better option, do you think the people would choose her then?"_

_There were a few murmurs, most of them of agreement, if not all. The batarian smiled, the turian sergeant looked content, and the salarian whispered in the ear of his asari compatriot, who nodded eagerly. Finally, the batarian spoke once more, stepping forward as he unholstered his rifle, holding up in the air in one hand: the Talon salute, "I know who I'd pledge my allegiance to...the only one I'd ever let rule over Omega! General, you are the one option."_

_"I concur," the turian sergeant replied, repeating the batarian's gesture, "I'd fight for that."_

_Seeing where the tide was turning, Nyreen decided to put the nail in that coffin. "No."_

_The room fell silent just as they prepared to cheer her name. Smiles died, claps muted. After a moment of shocked silence, the salarian stepped forward, head cocked, "I'm sorry General, but...did we mishear you? No?"_

_"I believe the General spoke clearly and succintly," Pike stated simply._

_"But...the whole..." the batarian stuttered. The man beside him, a krogan, stomped up to where he stood, pushing him aside._

_He pointed an accusing finger at her, "You made us what we are. You've fought for Omega's freedom from tyranny. It was you who fought for Omega when Aria ran away...you, and you alone would have led us to victory! You still can! There can be no better leader!"_

_She gulped, her mind made up. She knew the perfect candidate, and they were in plain sight the whole time, but nobody saw it. She was no leader, but the candidate was, "There can," she began, straightening her posture, "And there is."_

_"Who then?" the krogan threw his arms up, "Shepard? The man has a war to fight! And I doubt he cares little for the likes of us!"_

_"No, not Shepard. Not Aria. Not me," she decided it was time. They needed to know, "No, it must be my daughter. Sata."_

_The room decided to take that in for a moment. There were grumbles of discontent, the odd mumble of curiosity. In the end, it took a full moment before anyone responded, this time being Pike of all people, "General, this is unexpected. With all due respect, we hardly know your daughter, or her intentions...and you'll remember she has been under the yolk of Aria, not you...no doubt she has taken after her mother."_

_Nyreen shook her head, "That's where you're wrong, Lieutenant. I've spoken with her...she's, not what I expected. She despises her mother, thinks her a fiend. She is young, and she still has much to learn, but I believe she is truly the best candidate. Aria is a monster. I'm a soldier. Shepard has a war to fight, it is true. In the end, my daughter, Sata, holds the best hope for a better Omega. She is a fighter, but would promote a Republic, much like that of Thessia, on which she would lead the people. It's not what you wanted, I know, and I appreciate your loyalty and faith in me, and I ask you that you keep faith...respect my decision, and at least try and see what I see in her. You've trusted me with leading this rebellion...now trust me with deciding how it will end. Have I ever failed you before?"_

_Pike shook his head without hesitation, "You never have. Your decision is mine. I've already made my loyalty clear. Whatever decision you make...I will back it, one hundred percent."_

_Nyreen nodded, before turning to the rest of the room, "Please understand that I did not plan this. This is simply how it is. We cannot win this war alone, and Shepard is a good man. He will declare for Sata the moment he sees what she represents, I know he will. Then, we will have the entire UGC supporting us. Aria cannot hope to stand against that. If you cannot see Sata for what she is, then at least give her the benefit of the doubt, as I have. She truly is not her mother."_

_The batarian responded immediately, arms crossed, "If she is like her father...then perhaps I can back her. If you believe in her, so shall I. You gave this group purpose, allowed the Talons to mean something. And at this point...anything is better than Petrovsky and Aria. We'll do it your way."_

_"Agreed," the turian sergeant replied._

_Eventually, the entire room rose up in agreement, arms rising their weapons in salute. Their cheers likely broke through the walls and spilled into the loading bay, where the UGC troops could hear them. They cheered her name and Sata's, almost as if they were once again swearing allegiance to her. Pike remained silent through it all, his loyalty already proven to her. Nyreen knew what she was doing could never be forgiven...not by Aria. It was effectively a coup de'tat. But she knew Aria...the woman she once loved was still the same woman she had fallen for, and that was the problem. Nyreen hadn't truly loved her...no, she had loved what she represented. She had been a wondering soul, someone looking for a purpose...Aria simply gave her strength. She would thank her for that. Without her, Nyreen wouldn't be where she was now. But in the end, Nyreen could never serve Aria again. She was too toxic, too dangerous._

_She had to be stopped. She could not rule Omega, not again. And Nyreen would see to that._

_Afterwards, she pulled Pike aside, whispering in his ear the words whose implications troubled her, but of which she had prepared for. How could she not? "I won't tell Shepard until after the war is over. We need to focus on defeating Cerberus before we usurp Aria. But...if I die before that can happen, you continue the fight. Even if you must let Aria take control, play along. Do as she wants. But whatever you do, you keep fighting. Put my daughter in that couch. If you must fight a war to do it, so be it. Whatever it takes. Whatever sacrifice must be made. She is the best hope for this station. Promise me you will do me this favour, Pike."_

_There wasn't an ounce of hesitation in his response. He looked ready to respond before she even finished, "If Sata must lead, then I will do what I must. I will serve Sata as loyally as I served you. The Talons will remember, and the Talons will not forget," he grabbed her shoulder, tightening it, "But you will not die. You cannot."_

_She smiled, thanking him with a silent nod. He understood it._

_As she left, the cheers of her men ringed in her ears even after she left for the dark zone._

_August 7, 2186_

_1035 hours._

_Element Zero Processing Plant, Mining Sector, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Light Prophet._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Moses, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, General Nyreen Kandros._

Her thoughts drifted back to reality as she examined the corpse of a dead Cerberus soldier...member of the sixth massacred unit they'd found so far. Looking up, her eyes met the back of Shepard's head, who was checking the passage behind them with his rifle, ensuring the adjutant didn't sneak up on them. Standing up, she rejoined their circle so they could continue, milling over what she had discussed with her men.

Nyreen had always known she would die. Doesn't every soldier? She had serious doubts that Shepard did not know his death would come. It was the nature of soldiers to accept that reality, as how could they become soldiers without that acceptance? If she was going to die, she would do so fighting a noble cause...and she would not die serving Aria. The woman she looked up to was a lie, a facade...she couldn't die a lie, she wouldn't allow it. But deposing Cerberus and giving the people the freedom they deserved...that was something worth dying for, that much was certain.

She gave Shepard one last look.  _He's a good man. One mention of Sata taking control over Aria, and I have no doubt he'd join me in a heartbeat...the rest of the UGC forces here are loyal to him, not Aria. That would just her men...and the UGC alone, let alone the Talon backing, would be enough to put down any attempts she made of holding her regime. But if she herself resists..._

That truly troubled Nyreen. Could she kill Aria if the time came? The single bullet to the skull...

Deep down, she doubted it.

_I never loved her...I envied her, and confused that for love! The only good thing that came out of that relationship with Sata...and even she is the antithesis of everything that pirate queen represents. She's a monster, a murderer and a ruthless bitch: she would sacrifice the lives of every person on this station if she could have Omega back. She must die._

_So don't do it yourself...have Shepard do it! He has no love for the woman, and no reason to hesitate._

"Area ahead is clear," Nyreen announced, finally rejoining their formation, "Intersection is directly ahead. No sign of that adjutant that's been trailing us."  _Damn it, focus. The coup comes later...right now, we've got to focus on just getting out of this damn chamber alive. Adjutants everywhere...spirits, we don't even know where they are...they could be watching us right now and we wouldn't know it..._

"Let's move," Shepard ordered. Aria was beside Nyreen at this point, but hardly paid the turian any mind, and the turian reciprocated this. In their circle, they inched forward, past the dead sixth squad, and towards the intersection she had spotted several meters away.

_Why didn't the adjutants transform the corpses? They were infamous for not leaving bodies...they converted everything. Why leave the soldiers intact? Is it to send a message? Are they intellectually capable of that? Why would they even bother?_

It wasn't long before she was reliving it all over again. Even without her eyes closed, she could hear their voices...so long ago, yet so fresh in her mind, like it happened yesterday, instead of several months ago...

_"I don't like this."_

_"It's too dark."_

_"Anyone else hear this...scratching sound?"_

_"Knock it off," Nyreen spat, "Focus. We're hunting Cerberus. Alniers, where are they now?"_

_"A level below us, center right. I count a sniper and several troopers, with five centurions in support. Looks like they're packed to bear."_

_"Good. Knewman, on point. Paint them with thermals and let's see what they've got for us."_

_"Got it, General."_

_"The rest of you, form up on me. Keep quiet, and don't shoot unless fired upon."_

_"General, forgive me for asking, but didn't intel report Cerberus squads disappearing down here? I heard the term adjutant was used."_

_"Nothing we can confirm. Petrovsky sealed them down here and there's no reason to think they're still alive. We need to focus on what_ _**is** _ _alive down here, and it's us and a Cerberus team. Stay focused."_

_"Did you hear that?"_

_"Hear what, Knewman?"_

_"Nothing. Thought I heard a growl. Must be hea-"_

_That was the last time she ever heard Knewman speak. The last use of his voice was to scream as he was ripped apart by an adjutant. Before she knew it, they were surrounded, adjutants swarming from all sides, tearing into her men. They fired back, but it did little to nothing, and in that moment, Nyreen ordered a retreat. By the time she got back to the hatch though..._

_...she was all that was left._

Returning to the present, Nyreen felt a chill creep up her spine, as she always did when she thought back to that horrid event. Her first face-to-face encounter with an adjutant, and she resolved to never go down to the dark zone again...until this moment. She couldn't tear the image of glowing purple eyes, dripping black fluid, the steady gurgle and growl of its disembodied tone and its gigantic form that would force a krogan to crane their head. It terrified her to her core, and she would be a fool to deny it: anyone would be. Petrovsky kept them locked down here, and for good reason.

And now Nyreen had broken her mental promise, and once again walked amongst the dead. She was quick to note that the corpses of her men were nowhere to be seen, knowing full well they were more than likely amongst the adjutant population now.  _All of them, gone. Knewman, Alniers, Caper, Jessy, Retnus, Phalnak...the list goes on. It could be one of them stalking us right now._

_Come to remind me of my failure to save you? No need. I lament on it everyday..._

Nyreen knew that all she could do was hope the adjutants didn't spot them, and that they reached the reactor safely before the horde amassed. Because of it did, they wouldn't make it a meter before being ripped to shreds...it simply wouldn't be possible. But she also knew that this could be their last hope to win the war, and that the risk was worth it. Shepard understood this, as did Aria apparently. The entire squad did, otherwise they wouldn't be here.

All they could do was soldier on, hoping that their silence was enough to tame the horde.

Somehow, deep down, Nyreen doubted it.

They were being watched. And they were being studied.

_**A/N:** _

_**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Had a lot of assessments to complete, and haven't had proper time to write. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it, and please don't forget to leave a review so that I know you're still here! After all, I did cancel this series only to revive it...some may have taken the cancellation to heart and gotten the hell out of Dodge...** _

_**Part 2 will be next, and then begins the endgame for the Omega arc. I know it's been a long one, but we're finally on the right track, and you'll soon get the finale, before we move onto a few more interim chapters.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	73. Silent Mines, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petrovsky has one more surprise up his sleeve, and Shepard's team are left trapped with little hope left.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE:**

**SILENT MINES PART TWO**

_August 7, 2186_

_1038 hours._

_Element Zero Processing Plant, Mining Sector, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Light Prophet._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Moses, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, General Nyreen Kandros._

Their approach was maddening...maddening in the sense that they were in the pitch darkness, with no reinforcements, most definitely surrounded by thousands of adjutants, whilst being stalked by one. Marcus couldn't help but clutch his rifle that much tighter, eyes darting between his motion tracker and his visor. His night vision paved the way, bright green outlines peeling away the veil ahead of them to provide a clear picture of their journey.

The metal gangway creaked beneath his feet, and he mused that Kasumi was right...the silence was so encompassing that one could hear the steady breaths of the group...and would notice when they fell quiet. He could hear the steady, but nervous, breathing of Tali beside him, the quarian being the only one not needing night vision due to her species' biological chemistry to that regard. Her glowing, blue eyes darted around behind her helmet, shotgun poised to every instance of a sound being made that wasn't theirs. The groan of aging structures in the distance, the low growl of the adjutant stalking them, and occassionally the occassional stutter of the drills in the other chamber, their ruckus so deafening that their operational hiccups were noted by the entire group, although not of their own free will. They were all on edge.

They had come across a few more dead Cerberus soldiers, but nothing else beyond that: it seemed Petrovsky's teams hadn't gotten any further than the intersection, and were likely set upon by the adjutants before they got any further. Marcus couldn't help but wonder just how successful the General had been in achieving whatever goals he had planned for the adjutants, as it was pretty clear the repeated attempts by the Cerberus teams leant some credence to the idea that they had enjoyed some small triumph.  _Not like it will matter in the end. We're going to bring his entire regime crashing down, an entire brick wall at a time. He won't know it's over until it already is._

"Is it much further?" James asked from where he was walking ahead, just behind Aria and Nyreen, who were in the front.

Garrus, who stood across from him, decided to lighten the mood, "Why, you scared, Vega?"

"Damn right I am, Scars," the marine readily admitted, not holding back any shots, "Haven't even seen the fuckers yet and they give me the creeps. Not looking forward to seeing one in person. Especially not this  _puta_  who keeps stalking us."

"That's probably the most mature thing you've ever said, Vega," Garrus shot back, sounding more serious and amused this time, actually respecting James' comment, "Still, I'm not particularly jiddy to meet this adjutant friend of ours, but I'm ready to kill it."

"Hope you brought enough bullets," Nyreen replied, calmly and factually. She didn't let fear seep back into her voice, meaning she had at least listened to Marcus to that regard, "Even then, it won't be enough. Maybe if they're explosive tipped, then you'll last longer."

Kaidan turned to Marcus, the N7 already knowing what the marine was thinking. He shook his head silently, motioning for Kaidan to not say anything: Nyreen was just stating facts. He just hoped they'd find another way to kill the adjutants in the mean time if they ever had to fight them: knowing their luck, they would, unfortunately. Marcus just couldn't help but look up at Moses, but more specifically, at the geth prime's powerful pulse cannon.  _Geth primes are walking tanks. Maybe Moses has enough firepower to reduce an adjutant to molten sludge._

A low hanging growl, this one  _much_ longer, sent chills up Marcus' spine, the special forces operative twisting on the spot and aiming with his rifle at the source, finding nothing but darkness.  _Shouldn't be surprised. Fast as a lightning strike, this one is._ He turned back around, nodding to Tali that he was alright, and pressing forward. Their circle had loosened up slightly to make it easier to navigate, as the gangways were getting tighter and more narrow in some areas, barely wide enough to fit a krogan, and some were wide enough to park an Mantis gunship, wingspan and all...so formation reassignment was simply necessary, unfortunately.

"We're almost there," Nyreen declared, finally answering James' seemingly forgotten question, "We'll exit the eezo processing plant on the left, and proceed through the central mining sector, then it should be a straight shot to the reactor from there. A maintenance elevator will take us all the way to the bottom...right into the heart of the infestation."

"Oh, I'm just excited to wonder further into hell itself," Kasumi joked. After a period of silence, she spoke up again, trying to sound cheery, "Nobody? Just me?"

"Oh no, count me  _in_ ," Garrus remarked dryly, sarcasm practically oozing, "I've always wanted to have my limbs ripped off while I slowly and inevitably transform into a purple, glowing krogan testicle. Just puts a real smile on my face."

"Keelah, now I've got to think about a giant, glowing krogan testicle stalking us," Tali groaned, shaking her head in disgust, "I'm supposed to be scared, but that thought just...argh."

"Yeah, doesn't exactly give off the vibe of something to fear, and more of something I'm going to puke just looking at," Liara added.

"Want to hear a joke?" EDI asked, her voice sounding remarkably happy and out-of-place.

Before anyone can say anything, Garrus' drawn out groan filled the empty chamber, "Do we have to? They make me cringe so hard I might just squawk."

"I'd pay to see that, Scars," James chuckled, the buff marine squaring his shoulders before gripping his LMG more tightly.

"I could do with the money," the turian retorted.

"A krogan's computer breaks down. He calls salarian tech support. Where can he go to look them up?" EDI proposed. The room was silent, nobody seemingly able to get where the joke was heading.

Finally, it was Keeling who spoke up, "If this is the lead up to a really stupid pu-"

"The genophages!"

Silence.

"Wow," Garrus blurted out after a long, tense minute, "Just...wow. I don't know what to say."

"You liked my joke?"

Marcus and Tali shared a look. In the end, Marcus just turned to the AI, trying his best to laugh, but failing miserably as he let out a series of pathetic guffaws desperately trying to sound genuine, "That was, uh, really funny, EDI! Really set the record for that one."

"I've learnt to identify fake laughing when I hear it: Jeff has provided me plenty of examples. Does my joke fail?"

"Yes," Kaidan spat out before anyone could speak, "Cataclysmically. You may have just killed that adjutant, the joke was that bad."

"I thought puns were funny?" EDI asked, the AI sounding confused, if not a bit deflated...the sound of it made Marcus feel more than a little bit guilty, "I researched it on the extranet. Puns are a source of human amusement that were extremely popularized leading into the 21st century."

"Really?" Tali asked, turning to Marcus. He knew she had an eyebrow raised quizzically, " _Really_?"

"It was, uh..." the captain fumbled for a response, shrugging, "...a different...time. Hey, that was over a century ago anyway! 22nd century human humor is far more complex now...or so I would hope. Is it? I've been out of touch with extranet memes."

"From what I've seen...yes," Liara piped up, "I've also heard an awful lot of...species...related puns. Most of them are...eccentric."

"Always knew humans were all racist," Garrus joked.

"Oh...shut up," he spat back, trying his best to imagine that he wasn't pouting, "...dino."

"Primate."

"I am the one who makes fun of primitives here," Javik finally spoke up, the prothean having remained silent during their entire back-and-forth dialogue, "And you are both primitives. All of you are."

"Thanks for the two cents, Javik," Kaidan replied, "We were all so lost without your guidance. I felt like I needed to be called a primitive at least once or twice before I could feel complete. Thank you so much."

"Is he always like this?" Nyreen asked, "Calling people primitives? What even are you anyway?"

"He's a prothean."

Nyreen just went quiet. Then she responded, "Right...I'm leading a resistance movement against Cerberus on Omega...being aided by the member of a race long thought to be extinct..."

"I could resurrect the entire species if you like," Marcus jested, "I have a knack for making impossible things happen. And for my next trick, I'll also dance the Reapers into oblivion, because that's a thing now."

For once, Nyreen actually laughed at that, "An army of protheans would be nice. The look on Petrovsky's face would be worth it."

Aria had her own thing to say to that. The asari turned to them, stopping in place as she spoke, "I'd rather see Petrovsky's face decorating the wall of Afterlife. Perhaps then his look of shock can be immortalized." The asari then turned and continued, her strides long and purposeful, shotgun checking every corner routinely.

"Well...that's messed up," Kasumi shrugged, "That was definitely messed up. Somebody back me up here. Fishbowl? Shep? Garry?"

Keeling moved past them, valkyrie rifle braced against her shoulder and centered downrange, "You probably haven't noticed, but the adjutant has stopped growling. My motion trackers are reading nothing, and I can't see anything around us. The adjutant has either left or is holding position somewhere. Neither are good, sir. I suggest we move, post haste."

"I'm with Lola," James reinforced the N7's point, "If it brings its friends, we're finished. If it's holding position...it might be finally ready to attack us. Orders, Loco?"

Marcus nodded, turning to Tali, "Tali, you and Kasumi move up and join Nyreen and Aria. Keeling, James, support them. Liara, Kaidan and me will use our biotics at the back if necessary, and Moses, EDI and Javik will stay in the middle. Move forward, and let's do it relatively quick. I'd rather not wait to see what this adjutant has in store of us. Double time it!"

The squad suddenly rushed forward, tossing caution to the wind as they realized they could be outflanked by the horde of angry, violent creatures. It didn't take Tali and Kasumi long to catch up to Aria and Nyreen, whilst Marcus joined Kaidan and Liara at the back, feeling the cool sensation of biotic energy building up within him. Now that he focused, he realized Keeling was right: he couldn't hear the adjutant anymore, and his motion sensors were silent.  _It's in here somewhere. Watching us, probably. Waiting for the right moment to strike...well, come on you ugly fuck. Attack. Attack and get it over with._

His mental goading produced no result. The adjutant must have been content with its position of authority: invisible to the naked eye, stalking its prey with the closest huskified equivalent to glee. However, it wasn't the single adjutant he was worried about. If it attracted its buddies...well, they'd all die if that happened. His rifle continued to scan the darkness, his night vision penetrating into the vast, unrelenting veil, but conjuring up nothing. Wherever the adjutant was hiding, it was doing a damn good job. That just worried him more.  _What if it's not here? What if its left to get reinforcements?_

His squad wasn't waiting around to find out.

Suddenly, Tali haltered her advance, raising a single closed fist. Noticing, Marcus motioned for the rest of the squad to stop, eyebrow raised. His voice a bare whisper, he weakly shouted across the deck to her, "Tali? You see anything?"

"No," the quarian shook her head. A few more moments of silence, the engineer craning her head back and forth. She then lowered her fist, "No I...no, I thought I heard something. A bang."

"Well I didn't hear a fucking thing," Aria snapped, glaring at the quarian, "Next time, if you actually hear something, let us know. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut.. Fuck sake."

"No, she's right," Nyreen piped up, leaning over the railing, "I heard it too."

"Oh, so now everyone is hearing things. Isn't that just... _adorable_ ," Aria quipped, the asari waving her shotgun carelessly through the air in an exaggerated swing of her arms, "I guess I heard something too! Perhaps I heard the sound of Petrovsky taking a giant shit on his golden toilet in Afterlife. Maybe, if I listen just hard enough, I'll be able to hear the sound of Patriarch telling me what a gre-"

Marcus had enough. "Aria, do us all a favour, and sh-"

He needn't have bothered. Aria's mouth clamped shut while the entire squad witnessed a giant, black form land with a loud thud on the deck infront of them. The entire catwalk rattled violently from the behemoth's landing, metal creaking and outright screaming in some areas due to the strain and weight placed upon it so suddenly and without warning. Without their night vision, the creature would have been only illuminated by the bright, purple glow irradiating its form, outlining it in the darkness. With the night vision though, they could make out the gargantuan creature with little trouble: bulbous and disgusting, but tall and terrifying, its purple eyes glaring at them with what almost seemed to be  _hunger_. Black viscosity dripped from its "mouth", coating the metal below it in a dark sheen. There was no mistaking it.

The adjutant had chosen to strike.

He did not fail to notice Nyreen freeze up at the sight of the adjutant: after all, she was terrified of them. The normally lethal biotic, stoic in battle and filled with determination, stood rooted in the spot, refusing to even raise her weapon. Aria, however, had no such tribulations, taking a step back and raising her shotgun in the process, "Well, our adjutant has made its appearance!" Before the adjutant could take a single step forward, the creature too busy standing up to its full height, Aria pulled the trigger on her weapon. The M-11 Wraith shotgun spat out its high velocity shell with what sounded like a sledgehammer slamming into a concrete wall...the shell exiting the barrel and breaking up upon leaving the barrel, splintering into tinier, equally deadly, fragments as it flowered towards her target.

The shot hit dead center, but the adjutant barely stumbled. Aria was so close that every fragment hit her target, and had this been any normal husk, it would have been torn asunder, its diseased and aching flesh yielding to the raw kinetic blast. But this was an adjutant...as such, the shotgun blast barely made it flinch, and the squad watched as it absorbed the shell, its flesh regenerating at a rate that would make most krogan blink. Marcus knew, in that moment, Nyreen had not been exaggerating when she said adjutants were nearly unstoppable.  _We're definitely not killing this thing with guns alone. We're going to need to get creative._

Aria, thankfully, thought the same. While Tali and Kasumi grabbed Nyreen and pulled her back, the turian Cabal snapping out of her terror temporarily, Aria lowered her shotgun and blew up in a blaze of cobalt fire. Her entire body glowed furiously as her biotics charged up, a viscious snarl erupting from her lips, a sneer coated with enough vitriol to burn through a warship's battle plate. With all the rage she could muster, the asari snapped an arm forward, sending forth a kinetic shockwave. The force was enough to cause the entire catwalk to shudder, its supports shuddering as the air was violenty dispersed around the shockwave site, but it had done the job: hitting the adjutant like a freight train, it was tossed back, hitting the ground like a brick. The creature rollled, landing on its front feet, largely unscatched, but it had been enough to push it back far enough for the squad to prepare a defense. The adjutant growled angrily: a low, barely audible sound. But Marcus knew its promise.

Liara did not wait, his asari squadmate bringing her own biotics to bare as she easily pushed it back even further. While this was happening, James, Kaidan and Keeling all emptied their rifles and machine guns into the creature, peppering it with as much firepower as they could manage. Liara moved to pick up the adjutant with her biotics, but as she did, the adjutant's feet grabbled onto the catwalk, holding onto it with an unbreachable iron grip. It was learning, and intelligent husks are even worse than normal husks.

As Liara released her biotic hold on it, the adjutant must have realized that it had to strike now before his squad could attack again. Whilst Kaidan, James and Keeling reloaded, the adjutant reared its back feet, ready to make a lunge. Marcus half expected it to charge the front of their line, attacking Aria or Nyreen, but instead, it jumped straight into the air, aiming right for the middle of the group.

For him.

He quite possibly only had a single second to react, so react he did. With his enhanced cybernetics, Marcus summoned his biotics and, with a grunt, peeled a biotic fist back and lurched it forward to meet the adjutant's face mid lunge. He impacted it in one of its eyes, redirecting its forward momentum so that it landed mere feet infront of him, dazed but not downed. Without hesitation, he quickly backed up, holstering his rifle as the rest of his squad surrounded the creature, ready to put it down. But the adjutant was nowhere close to finished.

It slowly struggled back to its feet, its belligerent behaviour driving it to continue forward no matter what damage it incurred. It seemed utterly unbothered by the fact it was surrounded, its aura of nigh invincibility giving it no reason to think otherwise. Marcus eyed the husk carefully, assessing its next move before it made it, and preparing for it. He knew his arsenal of weapons would be useless against it, although he imagined the stronger and more corrosive nature of geth plasma-based weaponry would be more effective than their bullets. Regardless, he did not move to equip his geth pulse rifle again, instead choosing to activate his omni-shield. If he could not physically injure the creature, then he could keep it at bay while his squad whittled it down.

_I'm the matador, in a way. And the adjutant is the bull. Time to pull its horns, then._

His omni-shield glowed fervently in thre darkness, orange light wrapping around the front of his arm to provide a scutum-shaped shield of energy. The heat licked at his arm, intense enough to be felt through his armoured arm but not enough to wince at. It reflected off the levelled armor plating of his chestplate, illuminating the adjutant before him more brightly. The adjutant took note of this sudden display of bravado, and the N7, for a split second, swore it laughed, eyes boring holes through his skull as it glared at him. But what he heard was a squelch, more black ichor spurting from its mouth, one particular glob congealing to stick to the ground, hissing as it touched it...the superheated liquid glowing a very slight tint of purple before evaporating.

The adjutant wasted no time. It leapt at Marcus a second time, swiping at the captain with its claws. His lips set in a grim line, the Spectre turned at the last second and brought his omni-shield down infront of him, his legs set up in a battle posture. The adjutant slammed into him, causing his feet to skid at least half a meter back, only to stop as his stance remained firm. The adjutant flailed uselessly against his flash-forged shielding, rearing its claws back each time it did as the heat burned it. It began to pull back, and seeing his chance, Marcus brought the shield up, and with all the strength he could muster, swatted the husk straight in the face.

The beast yielded to the blow, head snapping back as Marcus hit it with the full force of his arm. The adjutant adjusted its weight so that it was not knocked over, but it was clear to the spectre that his attack hadn't even scratched it. Aside from a few burn marks on its chest and arms from hitting his omni-shield, he honestly couldn't tell if his attack had even winded the creature. As if in answer to his unspoken question, the adjutant turned around, snarling angrily, sending its black spittle spraying across his shield, and parts of his helmet. He blinked, before quickly using his other arm to wipe away the liquid from his visor, only to notice parts had dried already, sticking to it and slightly distorting his vision. The liquid that landed on the shield hissed angrily, evaporating immediately as the plasma liquified and melted it away.

It was clear he had only angered the adjutant, as he noted that its arms and legs were bristling, body shaking as it likely imagined all the ways it was going to tear his human prey limb from limb...that's if adjutants could think, of course. Although there could be no doubt that this creature had at least one goal in mind: to kill or transform its targets.

His squad fired at the adjutant, but it ignored the shots and shrugged them off, instead choosing to place all its attention solely on Marcus: that was good. A morbid smile graced his lips, holding his omni-shield to his side as he began to pace back and forth, prodding the adjutant into charging him. As it was, the adjutant simply remained on all fours where it had landed, choosing to simply watch its intended victim as said prey taunted it. Marcus' smile dropped, steeling himself in preparation for when the adjutant would lash out: his shield arm stiffened, ready for the right moment.

And then the moment came.

Howling, the adjutant stood up on its legs, arms raised and poised to strike. The sound was more like a Brute's roar combined with the sound of a dog being strangled, laced with the usual synthetic warble. The sound was terrifying, chilling Marcus to the bone, but he remained steadfast: a battle of who would win this staring contest. And from the look of the adjutant, it was fed up with such a notion. Marcus braced himself, ready to deflect whatever attack the adjutant threw his way, only to realize that he was too close to the creature...he was literally less than a meter away from it, well within arm length.

As the realization dawned on him, Nyreen shouted out confirmation of his thoughts, "You're too close! Back up! Don't let it scratch or bite you!"

The adjutant's right arm descended, its howl piercing his eardrums like a cacophony. He stepped back, bringing both of his arms up as he practically cradled the shield and pinned it to his side, biting down on his lower lip as he felt the heat bite into his leg. The adjutant's right-handed blow bounced harmlessly off the shield, the creature screeching its frustration. But by doing this, he had left his back exposed...something which the adjutant had not failed to notice.

He spun around, not knowing what else to do: he had already felt the next arm swipe coming before he saw it. The  _whoosh_  sound was enough of an indicator, giving him a split second to react: his shield too cumbersome, all he could do was spin. But he was too late.

He certainly  _heard_ the impact. The screech of claws scraping against battle plate, along with the scraping vibrations against his skin underneath, was enough to cause him to freeze in place, shuddering slightly. He kept his omni-shield raised, preparing to turn it into an omni-blade at a moment's notice, now close enough to slice the adjutant's offending arm off. He instead stepped back, taking a deep breath as he looked down at his side, expecting to see his blood leaking out, indicating that the adjutant had successfully infected him.

But he saw nothing of the sort. None of his blood poured, nor did he feel any pain. Instead, all he saw were three, long claw marks across the left side of his chestplate, tearing elongated gouges into the Terminus assault armor. He breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that the adjutant's claws hadn't breached his armor, and had simply grazed him. He continued to step back, further from the adjutant, his omni-shield deactivating as he reached for his pulse rifle.

_That was too damn close. I can't be that bloody reckless._

As he expected, Tali was at his side in an instant, shotgun trained on the adjutant, which was slowly getting to its feet, while she checked the extent of his wounds. She gave a visible sigh of relief, before looking up to ask him the question of confirmation, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, "Didn't penetrate my armor. I'm not infected."

"You need to be more careful," Nyreen chastized, "I did warn you. That adjutant could have cleaved you in half if it wanted, and your armor wouldn't have stopped it." The turian was now on his left, her Pugio pistol raised and aimed dead center on the adjutant. The red indicator to the side of the weapon indicated she had switched to incendiary rounds.

The adjutant showed no signs of giving up, the creature standing back up, turning to Marcus and growling once more. It seemed to be utterly focused on him and nobody else: did it...recognize him? Was that even possible? The adjutants didn't serve Cerberus or the Reapers...so what personal vendetta against Marcus could they possibly have? It was a question that wouldn't get an answer anytime soon, as he watched the adjutant bracing to charge. He instinctively stood infront of his wife and squad, prepared to take the brunt of the creature's assault. Rifle raised, he aimed at what he presumed was its head, and prepared to squeeze the trigger. The adjutant charged, snarling the entire time, while Marcus held his ground, and prepared to open fire.

Marcus watched as Moses appeared from seemingly nowhere, charging into the adjutant from the left side. The creature obviously hadn't seen this coming, its focus entirely on Marcus, and thus it was unprepared for the brazen attack. It was thrown like a toy by the taller and stronger synthetic, slamming into the railing and thumping to the deck heavily, liquid frothing from its maw. Its eyes snapped to the geth prime that had assaulted it, the crimson titan unwavering as it equipped its Type-02 Spitfire directed energy minigun, and stomped towards the fumbling adjutant. It screeched blue murder at the geth, but found that its foe was not afraid of it, and thus its attempts to instill terror were lost on the synthetic.

Once Moses was in range, the adjutant lashed out, but the prime battered the arm aside like it was nothing, his brute strength overwhelming that of the belligerent creature. Grasping its arm firmly, he pinned the adjutant to the ground with his left foot, before raising his Spitfire and taking aim at the adjutant.

It uttered one last howl of defiance, the sound echoing throughout the mining chamber...uncomfortably loud.

Moses opened fire and meticulously tore apart the adjutant. High speed plasma rounds tore the diseased flesh of the adjutant to bloody ribbons, shards of cybernetics and fleshy pieces of skin flying all over the place. The adjutant ceased to make noise once Moses reached its head, blowing it apart like a balloon as slippery sinew splattered across its optics, black blood soaking the front of it. After half a minute of deconstructing the adjutant's vital organs and apparatuses, Moses released the trigger, the Spitfire's rotating barrels slowing until they stopped, red hot steam pouring from them due to the sustained plasma fire. The adjutant's corpse was an unrecognizable heap of flesh: steam hissed from the eviscerated body, its head melted and caved in, plasma eating away at its internal organs and destroying its body faster than it can regenerate. Moses had found the weakness of the adjutant and applied it: destroy it with such overwhelming and consistent force so as to overwhelm its regenerative capabilities. Not too bad.

The steaming hunk of flesh was a threat no more, that much was obvious. Marcus nodded to Moses in thanks, the prime simply returning to its assigned position to resume combat operations: it always came to the geth to be the most logical and blunt of the group. With the adjutant threat eliminated, the N7 turned to them, nodding his head as he made one last attempt to scrape the creature's viscera from his visor, but was once again met with little result, "Okay, let's keep on moving. Aria, I hope this entrance of yours is close by, because I'm beginning to get sick of-"

His order was cut off by the distinct sound of howling. It echoed across the chamber, loud and angry, the unmistakable sound of an adjutant's roar. But it wasn't alone: soon, dozens more joined it, howling in unison: their cacophony ruptured the silence of the chamber, filling it with the sound of approaching death. Marcus knew they had really stirred the hornet's nest now, and they were stuck right in the middle of it. Just as Nyreen had feared.

They had broken the golden rule: don't make noise. And the adjutant they killed had not died quietly.

The howls were reaching the hundreds: likely every single adjutant in the mining sector had now been alerted to their presence, and was now descending upon them with the intent to kill. Marcus began to back up hurriedly, holstering his rifle as he did: there would be no use for it against an army of thousands of adjutants. They were woefully outnumbered, and completely surrounded. There was only one thing for it.

He snapped to Aria, his tone unamused and to the point, "How far?"

The asari, thankfully, didn't give him lip this time, her vulgar and acerbic attitude squashed in her mind at the idea of being mauled by thousands of Cerberus' worst experiment gone awry, "400 meters, straight to the north."

"Then we run the rest of the way. To hell with silence," Marcus spat, turning to his squad. He began to run, tapping Tali's shoulder as he went passed to indicate for her to do the same, "You heard!  _RUN! FUCKING RUN!_ "

And run they did. Not a single one of them slowed down for a moment, even as the sound of angry adjutants drawn to the sound of their footsteps became louder and louder. Nyreen bolted ahead of them, the most desperate of them all to put distance between her and the Cerberus abominations, her strides long and less than graceful. Marcus wasn't far behind her, with Tali and everybody else just behind them. Moses was effectively running backwards, the geth's timed steps and vigilant gaze allowing it to make sure no adjutants snuck up behind them. Thankfully, the adjutants weren't that close yet. But Marcus also knew that if they caught up, his squad would be ripped apart. He couldn't let that happen. He  _wouldn't_  let that happen.

_We can make it. We're almost there...just another 230 meters and we're there._

Those 230 meters might as well have been 230 kilometers.

"Its just around this next corner!" Aria shouted, pointing to it. Nyreen had almost gone past it in her mad dash to escape, but halted her advance the moment the asari finished her sentence, her clawed turian feet gripping onto the catwalk and allowing her to pivot, proceeding to run down the next corner, the rest of the unit in tow. There was only 200 meters left. Marcus could feel salvation was in sight, a reprieve from the adjutant menace. Deep down inside, he was beginning to regret coming down here...putting his squad needlessly in danger when there had been other alternatives. He had even brought his wife down here...

_The mission comes first. If this strategy pans out, we can end this war with Petrovsky tomorrow...perhaps even today. Its my duty. We had to do this. Besides, they knew the risks coming in with me...they didn't care. They know the score._

He spared Tali a glance...he knew she must have been terrified, yet she moved with all the grace of a veteran: shotgun in hand, eyes fixed dead ahead. He turned to Garrus, who kept up with them with little trouble, showing no fear on his face. He smiled, turning back to the front, but quickly wiped the smile from his face.  _They know the score alright._

His mental conflict was quickly brought back to reality in a single instant. He watched as Nyreen suddenly skidded to the ground, landing on her back as she slid across the catwalk. Marcus didn't see why she had done this until a moment later: the entire unit stopped as three large figures landed on the catwalk infront of where they had to go, their forms looming over Nyreen with horrible malace.

The three adjutants growled.

Marcus, without thinking, equipped his pulse rifle and immediately opened fire on the lead adjutant, however the futile the gesture may be. Tali joined him, her geth plasma shotgun unloading bolts of energy into the adjutant's side, while Garrus took a knee, balanced his sniper rifle against his shoulder, and let loose. Kasumi, not knowing what else to do, joined him with her SMG.

Then they heard four distinct thuds behind them, metal creaking loudly and warping suddenly. Marcus whipped around, mouth dropping open and eyes wide in shock as he saw there were now four adjutants behind them as well, growling and hissing as they surrounded their prey. Moses did not hesitate, spitfire spinning to life as it unloaded a torrent of death at the first adjutant he had his sights on. Javik joined him, particle rifle slicing through the air to bissect one adjutant's arm off, causing it to hiss and howl, although not at all in agony. James wasn't far behind, while EDI and Kaidan fired on the fourth adjutant at the back. Liara just joined the forward line, trying her best to keep them back with a flurry of biotics and reserved SMG fire. But Marcus knew that no matter how valiant their defense, that the longer they stayed here would only allow the adjutants around them to catch up...and then they would surely die. It was inevitable.

He didn't stop firing. Lowering his rifle for a moment, he reached down to his belt, plucked a grenade and primed it, tossing it over his head towards the advancing adjutant trio. The frag grenade detonated directly underneath the first one, the concussive force of the blast sending it flying into the air, before slamming back down, its legs blown off, blood spurting into the darkness. This meant little, as the adjutant simply used its arms to drag itself forward, completely uncaring to its state: at this point, it really did seem like a cybernetic zombie, as it advanced without a care in the world for its own wellbeing. A creature designed to kill and do nothing but kill, whilst turning its victims into more of its own kind. The perfect killing machine. The ultimate weapon.

_Yep. Definitely a Cerberus project._

Without even waiting to find out if the grenade did any damage, he raised his rifle once more and continued his fire, subconsciously moving toward the adjutants as he did, unloading every bullet he had. Steam coughed from the top of the weapon, indicating he had used up the thermal clip. Like a machine, he ejected the spent clip, slapped in a fresh one, and continued firing. It was then that he noticed the maintenance ladder in the distance, less than 200 meters away from them...behind where the three adjutants were advancing. If they could just reach it...

_We're so close! I won't let us go out like this!_

Aria practically had to drag Nyreen away, who was so frozen with terror that she found herself unable to even raise her damn weapon. It was only after the asari slapped her out of it (literally), that the turian finally raise her weapon and fire a few shots: however, most of these shots were of little value, most of them missing due to the turian's shakey grip. It was a terrifying thing to see: a special forces operative reduced to a terrified private. If there was a clearer case of PTSD, this was it. But he had seen Nyreen fight Cerberus, had seen her beat the shit out of Leng...she had shown no fear, no sense of backing down...she had been graceful and fluid, lethal and majestic...a fighter who could make her skills look like water dancing. And yet, when faced with an adjutant, she fell apart at the seems.

That was the kind of enemy they were dealing with. An unscrupulous foe with no ultimate goal, tactics or motivation. Just a need to kill everything in sight.

Once Nyreen was pulled away, Marcus was effectively the only left not retreating. He only realized this once he saw Tali moving with him, constantly at his side and shotgun barking off shot after shot.

The first adjutant had finally withered under the combined plasma fire, its corpse smoking and seemingly collapsing as its corrupted muscle and bone mass melted and peeled away, creating a fine mist of black smoke as the body stagnated within seconds. With one down, he turned to face the second, only for a hand to grab his shoulder, pulling him back.

"We need to pull back, we're getting too close!" Tali shouted, effectively ordering him to fall back.

He nodded his affirmation, and began to walk backwards, firing as he went, his quarian wife matching him step for step as they fell in unison, pouring hot superheated plasma straight into whatever adjutant was closest to them. Unfortunately, an already FUBAR situation was going to get much worse: additional thuds sounded ahead, and he imagined the face draining from both their faces as they saw three more adjutants appear.

They were soon going to be overwhelmed at this rate, but knew they had to make a break for that ladder. It was their only hope of escape.

"Captain!" Javik's thick accent travelled across the catwalk despite the loud reports of gunfire from all around them, mixed with the growls and grunts of adjutants arriving and attacking the group, "This position is untenable! We must retreat!"

"Retreat where, Javik!?" Marcus snapped back, noting that one adjutant looked to be getting agitated and approaching faster. He switched his aim to this particular creature, firing at what he hoped was a weak spot: the bulbous sack on its back, "We're fucking surrounded! There's nowhere to go!"

_Except the ladder._

_We'd never make it._

_We can try._

_We'll die._

_Better than dying here._

He gritted his teeth, knowing that they really had no other choice.

He knew what they had to do, and they had only a short window from which to do it. He gulped unconsciously, before raising his voice an octave he didn't think he'd ever have to speak at, "Everyone, we're going to make a run for the ladder! Train your weapons and advance: kill every adjutant infront of you, but make sure you reach that ladder at all costs!  _ **GO**_!"

He didn't need to articulate his decision any further: his squad just accepted it. With Moses holding off the adjutants approaching from behind them, the rest of the squad turned their attention to the adjutants directly ahead, peppering them with weapons fire, explosives, biotics and whatever else they had in their arsenal. At least one adjutant wavered under this assault, cut to shreds by the intense firepower. Another was jolted by impacts so heavily that it actually fell off the catwalk, tearing off the guardrail as it plunged into the dark abyss below them. But even then, the adjutants just kept on coming, with four more waiting directly ahead, and likely more arriving behind them.

Marcus passed the broken guardrail, rifle peppering the adjutants near the ladder with what he could muster. He ejected a spent clip, reloaded, and kept going: there was no halting his movements. It seemed they may just reach the ladder after all.

He didn't hear Tali's scream until it was too late.

" **MARK, LOOK OU-!** "

He felt himself slammed into the ground in an instant, the wind forced from his lungs in a decompressive blast. He was unable to move his arms, and he knew from a quick glance that this was because the adjutant had landed directly ontop of him, its legs pinning him to the catwalk, claws digging into his armoured arm but not quite piercing it. Only his legs could move, and even then, he didn't see a kick doing much to faze a creature like the adjutant. The rifle was still held firmly in his grip, but with the adjutant saw this, planting its foot directly on the wrist so he couldn't raise it. He felt the black liquid from its gaping jaw begin to drip onto his visor, adding even more to what was already there: some of it even splattered across his collar. He groaned, unable to do anything but stare up into the adjutant's soulless eyes, realizing that he was ultimately defenseless. He hadn't even seen it coming: it must have dropped from the ceiling, directly ontop of him. His arms felt jarred, likely bruised heavily from the impact of the full weight of the gargantuan creature landing ontop of him.

The adjutant raised one arm, ready to tear Marcus' head clear off. Before it could however, the arm was blown off down to the stump, black blood fountaining from the newly created wound. The adjutant roared angrily, looking up to see who had committed this offense upon its form. The response it got was a plasma blast to the face, even more black fluid splashing onto Marcus' helmet in the process, soaking it. The adjutant flailed its head around wildly as it was temporarily blinded.

He watched as the leg pinning his right arm was blown off next, causing the adjutant to stumble backwards as it lost its right locomotion. Not wasting any time, Marcus released the grip on his pulse rifle and immediately activated his omni-blade, bringing the hand up to descend upon the adjutant's other leg. The swipe was clean and swift, chopping the appendage off at the ankle. He quickly dragged himself out of the way as the adjutant, now legless and lacking one arm, simply collapsed forward, landing where Marcus had been not too long ago. It snapped at him, desperately trying to bite him, but he simply dragged himself out of its reach, grabbing his rifle again as he stood up, black liquid dripping right down his chestplate.

He turned to his savior, nodding his thanks. Tali just nodded in return, and the two moved to continue towards the ladder, their weapons finishing off the adjutant at their feet before continuing. The two were inseperable as they shot their way forward, shotgun and rifle complimenting each other excellently like a pair of twin machine guns. The rest of the squad was struggling to move as far as they had, but were quickly catching up.

Marcus turned to the squad, motioning to the ladder, "We're almost there! Just k-"

He never saw it coming.

Everything was a blur. One moment, he was just shouting orders to his squad. The next moment an adjutant charged and slammed into his side, barrelling him aside like a rag doll. He was helpless as he felt his body physically leave the ground, rudely grabbed from the catwalk and shoved violently to the side. The wind once again exploded from his lungs, his body turning in mid air as he flew through the air: his eyes briefly met that of the adjutant that had attacked him, before he lost sight of it once more. He held onto the rifle in his grip as hard as he could, unwilling to lose it again, as he continued to fly through the air, no reprieve seeming to be yielded to him.

Once he saw where he was headed, he felt a lump in the back of his throat. The dark abyss reached out towards him, yearning to consume him in one fell swoop. All he could do was watch as he continued to fall, gliding past the broken guardrail to rapidly descend into the mines below. His night vision provided very little assurance, barely illuminating what was infront of him due to the powered down sections below him. He heard Tali scream something to him, but he couldn't make out what she said. He closed his eyes, accepting of his fate, helpless to do anything as he just continued to fall, air whipping at his helmet as he plummeted.

There was no end in sight.

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_0948 hours._

_Rear Entrance, Aria's Bunker, Tuhi District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Rubicon Campaign._

_Commander Walter Pike._

If one were to look at the current situation from an objective standpoint...they'd likely say that they were losing the war.

Sure, Aria's joint mercenary-UGC forces had dealt a crippling blow to the Cerberus army at the Battle of the Tuhi District...nearly 10,000 troops killed, along with over a dozen Atlases, and countless amounts of Rampart mechs. Suffice to say, the assault had been costly for the pro-human organization, but even with this success, they had suffered their own losses, and Petrovsky still held a position of superiority with the 30,000 strong army that he had left. The odds had been tipped, but not irrevocably in the UGC's favour. The only real advantage they held was naval superiority, but there could be no doubt that Cerberus reinforcements would arrive soon, trapping the UGC liberation force on the station for Petrovsky to pick apart piecemeal.

It took Pike a grand total of ten seconds to fully evaluate the status of the room. Arguments had broken out between UGC field commanders and Aria's lieutenants on where best to send troops, with Pike largely having to intervene to ensure fights didn't break out. General Zaal'Golo clearly disliked the company Aria kept, and while he largely maintained a professional relationship with Nakmor Dreg, the quarian held no reservations regarding Bray. Pike himself didn't like Aria's men on principle: being one of General Kandros' most entrusted confidants, she had told him everything Aria had done during her reign on Omega, and why Nyreen had eventually fled and taken control of the Talons. Pike was a man of loyalty: it was a trait his father and mother had instilled in him from the moment he hit puberty, his life defined by discipline, order and efficiency. As he rose in the ranks of the Talon drug cartel, he had earned himself the trust of his commanders, but not their respect: his militaristic attitude, combined with his prior service in the Alliance army, made him a topic of some mockery amongst his peers. Derius had gone so far as to nickname him the 'Postman', named for Pike's rather...unique way of delivering messages. The nickname stuck.

He had once been a thug. His sense of loyalty was so overly narrow-minded that it often led him to choose the wrong people to be loyal to. Derius had been a man without charisma: he imagined himself a womanizer, even though most women despised him. He considered himself a fighter, even though he almost never fought any of his own battles, choosing instead to give the dirty work to Pike. He considered himself an artist, even though one of his works was so bad that the one he had sent to Aria as a "gift of courtship" had been sent back torn to shreds. He even considered himself a crackshot, even though he couldn't hit the broadside of a mountain. If there was a profession, Derius had tried them all. And he failed at every single one except one thing: the drug trade.

His head turned in a mindless semi circle as he ponderously scanned the room, standing at the back of the garage with hands crossed behind his back: a habit conditioned into him from years of service to the Alliance. The hockey mask he wore occassionally grazed areas that ached or itched, but Pike paid it little mind: wearing the mask was a small price to pay for what lay underneath. He imagined most of his subordinates would rather follow a leader out of principle, and not for fear of the face that gazed back at them. Otherwise, the burned and charred parody of what resembled a human being may have caused them to defect, he imagined.

Through the slits that made up the eyes on his mask, he could see the disarray before him. Wounded piled in every minute, cuts and scratches patched up and their receivers sent straight back out to their respective combat zones, while broken legs and other appendages got what little rest they could in the cramped confines of what was being called the "medical bay" in the command center. Of course, the vast majority of the casualties were Aria's men: the geth, krogan and rachni were having significantly lesser troubles than everyone else, having worked out a way to combine their unique strengths to reinforce their weaknesses and triumph over their enemies. While it worked in some areas, they couldn't be everywhere at once, and where the UGC wasn't, Cerberus was winning.

The "Battles of the Rubicon" (officially known as the first phase of Operation: Dark Prophet), as they were being prematurely nicknamed, were a distraction. While Shepard's unit brought down the forcefields, the UGC and Aria's men would perform delaying actions across the Rubicon to disrupt and distract the vast majority of the Cerberus army. They were largely a series of brief skirmishes in somewhat random areas, produced through stealth offensives, followed by swift retreats: bug bites and pebble throwing. Neither side was suffering significant casualties, but Cerberus was devoting a significant amount of resources to that front: almost a full regiment of troops, in fact. Petrovsky wouldn't make the Tuhi mistake again though: there was no large concentration of troops dedicated to any one assault, and the skirmishes were largely firefights between small squads and the occassional Atlas or armature. Aircraft from both sides even engaged in small dogfights, but thus far, only one or two fighters had been shot down...all on Cerberus' side.

After all, Cerberus pilots were no match for quick and methodical geth interceptors.

Cerberus had won some minor victories, but nothing major. The UGC, as was their intention, largely finished engagements inconclusively: absolute bare minimum of fatalities on both sides. Pike knew Petrovsky would catch on sooner or later, so all he could do was hope that Shepard succeeded with his plan and managed to bring down those forcefields without potentially unleashing an adjutant horde upon the entire station. Regardless of what outcome occurred here, if that happened, both sides would lose.

As the shouting got louder and the casualties get streaming in, Pike found his thoughts to be clouded, wondering through a haze of murky ponderings. Paramount among these was Nyreen: and her recent decision to place her backing behind her daughter, Sata T'Loak.

He had yet to fathom the decision. We had first met Nyreen, she had seemed like the kind of woman was both broken and yet firm. The signs of her history as a special forces biotic operative were there, with one particular raid on a Blue Suns warehouse really showcasing to him how deadly she could be. But in that same way, he could see the mental cracks under that mask of hers: cracks that only hinted at her history. At that point in time, he was entirely unaware of her history with Aria...or her ambitions for the Talon organization.

He remembered when Nyreen had finally gathered enough loyalists to challenge Derius...and Pike, her commanding officer at the time, had foolishly challenged her. At the time, it hadn't seemed so foolish...after all, he was loyal to Derius, and Nyreen was a traitor who had to be put down. He had also felt betrayed: he had grown to respect Nyreen immensely, treating her as his  _de facto_ lieutenant, so her betrayal dug deep at the time. But when the dust had cleared, so to speak, and he was defeated: he realized he didn't care, and hadn't for a while. When Nyreen announced her intention to overthrow Derius, Pike hadn't resisted...he had willingly joined her after the fact, despite the permanent scarring done to his face: after all, it was her fault he was doomed to wear this mask for the rest of his life. And when Nyreen described her dream of transforming the Talons from drug cartel to respectable resistance force, he hadn't resisted that either.

Sure, there was some resentment: he had taken her treachery quite personally. And for the first couple of months, he had silently followed her orders without question, but silently hated her. But after he saw what Nyreen had done to the organization, his attitude changed: she had flushed out all the undesirable scum from her ranks, leaving only loyalists and respectable foot soldiers. All of Derius' loyalists had been banished or executed, and Nyreen had declared war on the drug trade, using the Talon's status as a mercenary superpower on Omega to make life hell for red sand dealers: and unlike the American analogue of the 21st century, she had succeeded. Nyreen had kept her promise: proven herself an effective leader, and worthy of the title of General. She had even begun recruiting disenfranchised civilians looking to settle a score with people who had wronged them in the past, whether it be the odd criminal or Aria's thug platoons. In the end, Nyreen had achieved what Archangel wanted to, but never could, because she had both the resources and tenacity to get it done.

That's when his opinion of her changed, when he finally banished his pride and asked her forgiveness. To his surprise, she gave it without question, naming him her second-in-command...or more officially, giving him the rank of Commander. He would have been at the forefront of her rebellion against Aria, ready to bring the whole matriarchy down to its knees...

...and then Petrovsky invaded. And the rest was history.

Nyreen had changed Pike in ways he never thought he could be changed. He had gone from a man without moral fiber, a tool of Derius' tantrums and drug-infused ambitions, to a man who was to lead a revolution, one that would topple the one rule of Omega itself, and bring down a pirate queen that had lasted over a hundred years. He was a changed man, and he owed it to Nyreen.

Which is why he had been so quick to accept Sata's place as Nyreen's successor, despite her questionable loyalties.

_She barely knows the girl. Nyreen wasn't even present to raise the child, so how can she be so certain that she is a worthy successor? Nyreen is a proven leader...this Sata has yet to prove anything. For all we know, she could be mummy's girl. As loyal as I am to Nyreen, I'd rather not see the Talons handed over to a girl who's effectively the human equivalent of a small child._

He had to remind himself that asari aged differently than humans, maturing much faster than normal, and living well over nine centuries longer on average. Even still, he couldn't shake the feeling this decision would prove disastrous for the Talons, and the only way he could assuage his fears would be to evaluate Sata. To speak with her. Discover what kind of caliber she was, and whether she truly could be trusted. Until he did so, doubts would only continue to eat away at him.

He found himself robotically twisting on the spot to head up the flight of stairs heading into the command center, body moving on autopilot as he proceeded to search for Sata T'Loak in her last known location: Aria's personal quarters. Aria had left Sata behind when she left for the infiltration mission, although Pike doubted it was out of fear for her safety. The concept of "motherly love" didn't apply to all mothers, and Pike wouldn't be surprised if Aria, if given a choice between Sata or Omega, chose her precious slag heap of a station over her own flesh and blood. That's just the kind of creature Aria was.

Reaching the top, he hit the haptic interface and watched the door shoot open, the Talon commander stepping through. The war table looked unattended, with only Bray present as he looked over the combat reports whilst simultaneously relaying this information back to the quarian-geth/mercenary fleet in orbit around the station. The rest of the room, on both sides, was filled with people, armed soldiers and wounded alike. He noted that at least four of the guards wore the blackish armor of the Talons, accentuated by the bloody red T and white circle logo of the organization. He nodded to them, but only one nodded back, as at least one was tending to a wounded quarian engineer's suit breach with medi-gel, while the other two were facing the door exiting the command center. He paid them no mind, resuming his path to Aria's quarters.

He crossed the room, ignoring the brief look Bray had spared him as he quickly returned to his work. A few of Aria's men milled about: a pair of asari and a batarian mostly, their light armor looking dented and worn from combat, with one of the asari's shoulderguards completely missing. Puzzlingly, there was a single elcor situated at the back, his long, broad back suspended on four muscular legs. He seemed to be talking with someone on a terminal over a "couch" of some sort, but Pike could not garner much more from the conversation, nor did he care to do so.

He arrived at Aria's quarters, but noted with a raised brow that the haptic interface was bright red, signalling that it was locked. Reaching up one hand, he knocked on the grimy, chrome-coloured surface of the door three times, before stepping back and quietly waiting: he was provided no reply. He turned to the nearest batarian guard, who had been watching Pike the entire time. He needn't have asked his question, as the guard seemed to already know.

"You looking for Sata?"

Pike nodded.

"What business do you have with her?"

"Talon business," was his curt reply, voice raspy.

"Not good enough," he did not fail to notice the batarian's grip tightening on his rifle: a worn-looking BRK-II Barker. Pike gave the batarian his full attention, pivoting to face him fully, whilst remaining utterly silent as the batarian continued, a glare trying to pierce Pike's mask, "Perhaps you would like to elaborate,  _Talon_."

"I would not," Pike rasped, hands remaining clasped at his back as if he was entirely undeterred by the batarian's threatening pose. After all, the batarian was armed, Pike was not. But the Talon commander could care less for the batarian's seemingly superior position.

"How about I  _make_ you?" The batarian spat, slightly raising his weapon.

Pike was unamused, "You could try, but I can't promise it'll end up the way you want. I wish to speak with Sata T'Loak. Whether or not I do that is not up for debate: whether you tell me or not is irrelevant. I will find her regardless."

"You don't scare me, human," the batarian coughed, wiping his lips as he leaned against the wall to his left, regarding him rather amusingly. But from what Pike could gather, the batarian was very much nervous, with his grip on his rifle nervously jittery. Perhaps it was the mask that unsettled him so, or Pike's confidence in a position where he lacked any sort of weaponry. The uncertainty must have eaten away at the batarian. But, such as is with batarian pride...

"Sata T'Loak. Where is she?" Pike reiterated, "I won't ask again."  _First, disable rifle. Next, break wrist wielding trigger. Third, incapacitate target._ In just a few seconds, Pike had planned out exactly what he would do should the batarian be unwise enough to risk a confrontation...which he very much seemed unwilling to do.

A point that was quickly proven. The batarian stood up, gulping as he wiped his forehead, "Right. Whatever. She's in the fucking main garage if you want to see her so badly."

That intrigued Pike.  _What is she doing there?_ "That's the main entrance. Why would Aria allow her to go near such a sensitive area?"

"She didn't. The brat insisted," the batarian guard shrugged, clearly not being paid enough to really care about the everyday domestic politics of the T'Loak household, "Even asked me to give her a damn gun. I laughed, told her she was better off with dolls than a gun," he seemed to stutter, clearly embarassed. He then quickly changed the subject, "Anyway, she's in the damn garage. Just get out of my face."

"And you'd be wise to remain out of mine," Pike replied, "It would be bad for morale for me to have to put you in your place." Pike then turned and entered the forward garage, not waiting for the batarian's response.

There wasn't one forthcoming, the batarian staring at him completely dumbfounded.

It really didn't take Pike all that long to find Sata after that. Out of all the asari present within the room, she was the smallest, wielding a M-22 Eviscerator shotgun (likely commandeered from some deceased Cerberus soldier) tightly in her hands while leaning lazily against the wall sheeting behind her, casually lifting a cigarette from her mouth as she blew out a plume of smoke. She looked rather unamused, although the source of that lack of amusement likely came from the pair of vorcha currently hissing and snapping at each other just across from where she was. His target now in sight, he wasted no time in closing the distance with her, his pace steady and completed in long strides. In no time, he had closed the distance between him and her, narrowly avoiding the long line of prefab bunks along the wall, most of them now empty with the majority of the liberation forces out and about.

Alot more Talons milled about now, most of them from the reinforcements Nyreen had brought with her. Thanks to Pike, very few confrontations between them and Aria's men had broken out, which was good, because with morale as high as it was, nobody wanted something as petty as a political disagreement to get in the way of victory over Cerberus' oppressive regime. There goal was one in the same, even if their opinions on who should inherit the 'throne of Omega' differed.

Sata didn't seem to notice his arrival or pay him much mind until he stopped infront of her, remaining silent until she took notice. She must have seen him in her peripheral vision, because after a few moments, she tore her bored gaze from the fighting vorcha to face Pike, looking exasperated, "You've got something to say to me?"

"Yes," Pike stated, knowing that he could not tell Sata exactly why he needed to speak with her. After all, that wouldn't be revealed to her until after Petrovsky was defeated, and Nyreen deemed the time to be right. He knew there would only be one way to address this topic without unveiling the underlying intention behind it, "I wanted to appraise you."

Sata frowned at that, looking genuinely confused by that statement. Sighing, a long burst of smoke erupting from her lips, she dumped her cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it into a pulp, leaving it where it lay. She hefted her shotgun with an amount of professionalism he hadn't expected in her, yet she still held it rather sloppily: wise enough to aim it at the ground, but not wise enough to remove her finger from the trigger. He couldn't help but point that out, nodding at her lowered weapon, "Remove your finger from the trigger."

"Wha-?" Sata uttered, flabbergasted at Pike's apparent rudeness, but then she looked down and seemed to notice her mistake. She corrected it, electing to simply holster the shotgun on her back. She crossed her arms, looking up at him, "Happy?"

 _Objects to simple weapon etiquette. Not a good start._ Despite this, Pike chose to continue, eyes boring into her, "What is your opinion of Aria T'Loak?"

Sata seemed shocked by this question, as if she hadn't expected it to be coming. She nervously licked her lips, as if afraid that her opinion may be heard by someone undesirable...or perhaps, even her mother in question. Despite this though, the asari turned to him, standing straighter, "My honest opinion? That's what you want?"

"Yes."

She nodded, leaning in to whisper, "She's a complete fucking bitch."

He was satisfied with that answer, but needed to know more. He needed to know to what extent this hatred ran, "Why do you think that? How has Aria wronged you to deserve this opinion?"

Sata just quietly laughed, rubbing the back of her head as her fingers played idly with the tentacles at the back of her head, "Don't play stupid, you know what I mean. She's tyrannical, she's impulsive, she likes everything to be her way...and she's so... _self-absorbed_. She hates Nyreen for no good reason, and constantly tells me how Petrovsky is going to pay for 'breaking the one rule'. I mean, seriously? You can't get more bitchy than that. She's a verified dictator," she sighed, leaning back against the wall again, "But if I was to get more personal...well, she hasn't exactly been the best parental figure."

Pike frowned at this, "Explain?"

Sata scoffed, giving a sideways glance, like she thought he was an idiot for not knowing every detail of her familial life, "Aria was never fit to be a mother, that much is obvious. When I was born, Nyreen had already left: that was already a recipe for disaster. She has absolutely no concept of motherhood: she practically abandoned me the moment I entered my first year. She had her goons home school me while she was off lounging in that stupid night club she's so intent on taking back. She cared more about her damn space station than she did for me: maybe she resented me simply because Nyreen left her, or perhaps she never really gave a shit. All I know is that my childhood was meaningless. Whatever friends I made were scared off when they learned who my mother was. I was a fucking pariah, and she didn't care. Not once did she ever show me any love. I was a nuisance: she kept me around only because she didn't want to risk Nyreen's wrath," finished her rant, she raised one eyebrow at the human, waiting for a reaction, "Is that good enough for you?"

 _She's certainly proven a lack of love for her mother: Nyreen was right about that. Aria has curried no favours within her own family, that much is clear. But I need to know she's of leadership material. Its one thing to hate Aria, and quite another to be a worthy replacement._ "Almost. You said you were home schooled? What education do you have?"

Now Sata was truly confused, her posture seeming almost offended, "What the  _hell_  is with the interrogation? I don't know you...so what is compelling me to tell you all this crap?"

"I'm Nyreen's second-in-command," Pike stated flatly, feeling no need to beat around the bush, "She's placed an enormous amount of trust in you. I'm just here to make sure her trust isn't misplaced."

That caught her attention. "Nyreen...she talks about me?"

He nodded. It's all he could think of to do in reply to a question like that.

Frowning that she didn't get a more elaborate answer, she approached him, arms crossed, "What exactly does she say about me? Anything good?"

He didn't understand why this line of questioning was necessary, but decided it was probably best he answer her question anyway, "As I said, she holds you in high regard. Says you're a competent fighter, a kind hearted person and know how to use teamwork to your advantage. Which is why I'm curious as to what your education is."

Sata seemed satisfied, turning to walk back to the corner she had been occupying the entire time. He thought for a moment that she would just stand there to take in everything she had heard, only for her to suddenly speak up, as if knocked out of a day dream, "Yes, well, I had to do a lot of additional self-education on the side. The 'teachers' Aria had assigned to me were almost idiotic: had to learn most of what I know from extranet research. She wouldn't even let me use a weapon until she realized I just ignored her wishes, pilfered one from the armoury, and started training myself in its use:  _then_ she relented. That should tell you all you need to know about my education."

 _That_ impressed Pike.  _She learned how to use a weapon, competent teamwork skills and her biotics all by herself? Despite all of Aria's best efforts, Sata managed to make herself into something. I'm starting to see what Nyreen sees in this girl. Perhaps it isn't just parental bias...perhaps she really has that spark in her for leadership._

_But there's more to a leader than the ability. You need the charisma. The motivation._

Pike knew what his next question was going to be. It was clear he had underestimated this asari, but he still wasn't sure that she had the capability that Nyreen had. It was one thing to lead, it was another to inspire people to follow you. Shepard was a prime example of that: a man who not only knew how to lead, but inspired loyalty in those who followed him. The Talons didn't necessarily worship Nyreen, but they knew that no matter what decision she made, it was done in the best interests of Omega, and she had their unwavering conviction. It wasn't clear whether or not Sata actually possessed any of that.

So of course his next question was inevitable, "You can command a team, but I somehow doubt they would  _die_  for you. Tell me, what makes you think you're better than your mother?"

Sata's frown continued to deepen, like she had been confronted with a crazed lunatic telling her the sky was falling, "I never  _once_  said I wasbetter..."

"Didn't need to. I can see it in your eyes and how you speak," Pike replied, deconstructing her poorly concealed lie, "Its clear you don't believe she should lead this station. That her control should be permanently denied to her."

She just shrugged, as if his point didn't really mean anything to her. To her credit, she didn't continue to perpetuate her lie, conceding his point, "So? It doesn't matter whether I agree or not: Aria gets what Aria wants, that's always been her mantra. This entire invasion was her idea in the first place. I only agreed with it because I knew Cerberus were the enemy. I don't care for her pathetic ambitions."

"Then why help her?" Pike rasped, "Why not stop her?"

"Because that would be foolhardy," she snapped instantly, cutting off all seditious thought from being uttered, "She has followers. Loyal lieutenants. Bray, Dreg, Ahz, Jarral...goddess, even Shepard, even if he's a reluctant ally. I have no one. I've got nothing that she hasn't already got."

Pike nodded, "No, you don't. But a leader has to earn followers first."

She laughed at that, the thought of leadership seemingly bringing her much dry amusement, "I'm no leader. I'm Aria's lapdog, unfortunately. Doomed to follow in her shadow. All I have is my father...and she barely has any time to speak with me because of this stupid war."

Pike didn't like this defeatist attitude, even if it was understandable. Defeatism never did any good for revolutions or wars, because all it did was fester and corrupt the cause from within. It sapped its energy, drained its reserves and left it a hollow shell, incapable of sustaining any motivation or ideology. Defeatism lost wars, "You say you lack followers. But you do not lack allies."

Sata gave him a sideways glance, unsure of what he meant by that, "Yeah? And what allies would those be? And why would I need them?"

 _Can't reveal that to her just yet. The time isn't right. But she will know...eventually._ For now, Pike bit his tongue, choosing instead to be more vague, yet provide her the answer she needed at the same time, "There are those who hate Aria. Those who do not wish to see her reign supreme ever again. You may find you sympathize with them."

"You mean the Talons?" Sata replied, surprising Pike once more with how quickly she caught on, "I know all about my parents' fallout. I see them fighting all the time, like they never loved each other. Aria just sees an obstacle in her way, while Nyreen just sees Aria as some kind of monster. I chose a side a long time ago. It wasn't hard for me to do."

"So should the time come...?" he pondered.

"If you're asking if, should the time come that Aria gets overthrown, then yes, I'll side against her...Nyreen, despite never being there, did everything to look after me...she watched over me from afar. Mysterious gifts. Outsourced education. Bullies who suddenly disappeared the next day or apologized to me...I didn't think much of it before, but I know for certain it had to have been her."

 _Most of those bullies were of my doing...the ones that apologized were just the average schoolyard bully...but when Nyreen found out the history of some of the other, more mature bullies...well, the choice was obvious. I disposed of them mercifully, at least._ But he needn't tell Sata that. It wouldn't help matters much anyway.

"I'm not an inspiration," Sata suddenly blurted out, the pair of vorcha to their side having ceased all sound as they finally backed down, skin slick with their own blood and viscera as their regeneration kicked in, leaving no visible wounds but plenty of dry and wet blood soaking their forms. They marched away in opposite directions, looking for more vorcha to taunt into battle, as if it was somekind of initiation ritual, "I don't lead troops into battle. I don't know how to settle a dispute. I wouldn't even know where to start with Aria. So if your question is that, when the time comes, I could lead part of that revolution, the answer is no. Because when all is said and done, I'm just an asari with a shotgun, nothing more."

Although she didn't know it, this brief conversation between them had given Pike exactly what he needed to reaffirm his belief in Nyreen's choice.  _No bravado. Self-doubt. Humble in her own abilities, but exhibiting a strength of character that should be absent from someone raised by a dictatorial pirate queen. If anything, this girl takes more from her father's personality than Aria. And she shows interest in bringing Aria down should the time come._

_Just what we need indeed._

Sata was by no means perfect, and there was a lot of work to be done to make Sata a truly great leader. Of course, if things went according to plan, Nyreen would dethrone Aria herself and take over anyway, giving Sata plenty of time to prepare. But should Nyreen fall in combat...it would be up to Sata to take the mantle straight away. And while she was rough around the edges, Pike had the distinct feeling that she was quick to catch on. After all, anyone who can self-educate so efficiently and successfully has to have potential. Perhaps even more than that...

Regardless, he got what he came for. Perhaps in the end, Nyreen was right: Sata did have the spark in her for greatness. All she had to do was reach out and accept it. And now was not that time. First, they had a war to win.

_Worry about winning one rebellion before focusing on the next._

He nodded his head, almost turning it into a bow, as he thanked her, "You've been most insightful. I will leave you to your guard duty."

Sata just laughed, this time an actual smile slipping along her lips as she plucked another cigarette from a packet in her pocket, fumbling for her lighter, "I'm  _not_ on guard duty. I got bored being locked in that bloody room all day, so I grabbed my shotgun and decided to  _make_  myself a guard. Really hate not being able to do anything. Not really my  _duty_ to do so."

She found her lighter, bringing it up to the end of her cigarette, now hanging limply from her mouth as she lit it. The end lit up a bright orange, before disapating as she removed it from her mouth, exhaling deeply. Noticing his look, she waved the object in question into the air, "I don't usually smoke, by the way. Its a bad habit I got from one of Aria's guards. Says it helps to relieve stress," she scrunched her face up, shaking her head, "Such a load of crap."

"Then why continue smoking?" he asked, curious.

"Better to keep up the illusion of stress relief than to have to focus on the fact that isn't helping at all," Sata shrugged, taking another puff of it, before lifting it away from her lips once more, "As my mother likes to say, 'we all have our delusions'. Probably the only thing she's ever gotten right."

Seeing no other reason to hang around, he simply nodded and turned to leave, walking back down the isle towards the command center, leaving Sata to ponder this encounter alone in earnest. If he was lucky, he had just laid the first seeds of doubt that would sprout into longer, thick branches. Branches that could make her into what she needed to be. For Omega.

Apparently though, Pike was not the only interested in why he had wanted to talk with her.

Waiting for him at the stairs entering the command center was the form of a large, blue-armoured krogan, his arms crossed and glaring across at Pike, clearly keeping an eye on him. On his right was a smaller, less imposing batarian, although he was the only one of the two that was armed, a simple M-3 predator pistol holstered on his left thigh. He too watched Pike with rapt attention, and the Talon had to wonder just how long they had been standing there. It was quite possible that batarian guard had told Bray the moment Pike had left, and that Bray in turn had left to inform Dreg.

Pike moved to ascend the stairs, but Dreg and Bray were blocking the way through, and they looked to have no attention of shifting to let him pass: this confirmed that they were definitely here for him. Instead of provoking them into conversation, he simply stood there and swapped looks with the two of them, daring one of them to speak up first, as if it had turned into a contest of who would break and be the first to begin the confrontation.

Bray broke first, barely six seconds later.

"Heard you talked with Sata T'Loak..." the batarian prodded, his own hands at his sides in an unthreatening position, entirely unlike Dreg, who looked about ready to tear Pike apart, "Want to tell us what you talked about?"

"Nyreen Kandros," Pike shot back without hesitation, focusing all his attention on Bray and ignoring Dreg's suspicious stare. He could practically feel the krogan trying to read his mind with just a look, even though he couldn't see Pike's facial features due to his mask, "I serve under her father, and wished to know about her relationship with Kandros. I was curious."

Bray shook his head, looking regretful, "I don't think you understand. Aria specifically ordered us to make sure none of you Talons interact with her daughter. Her instructions were very clear. Doesn't want them filling her mind with Talon propaganda."

"Afraid she may learn something?" Pike replied, cocking his head, "Sata's a grown woman by asari standards. She can handle herself."

Bray put a hand on Pike's shoulder, but removed it the moment the Talon snapped the arm a dirty look. Removing the arm almost placatingly, Bray was beginning to demonstrate that he was the more reasonable of the two: he seemed far less willing to be confrontational in this regard, raising his hands defensively, "Those are our orders. I suggest you take them in stride and just make sure not to let this happen again."

"Oh, it  _won't_ ," Dreg finally spoke, his far more croaky voice standing in direct contrast to the wet, sinus-y sound of a batarian's voice. He krogan reared his head up, projecting his size to the human in a posture deemed to be intimidating. For any other human, it would be. For Pike, he could care less for the krogan's posturing, "Because if you do, I will personally rip your arms off. You've been warned, Talon. Stay away."

Pike just stared at the krogan, unimpressed. This was supposed to be Aria's wise counsel, a krogan of nearly seven hundred years and encapsulated with experience, but when it came to threats, he followed the same deviation that all krogan followed: use your size and appearance to scare those you don't like into submission. But it just wouldn't work on Pike: he had killed enough krogan and been injured by enough that he was entirely desensitized to it, "You would do well not to threaten an ally. After all, the Talons came to you in good faith."

Dreg just chuckled, "The Talons serve Kandros, and Kandros follows Aria. That doesn't make us allies."

"Funny, for a krogan, you lack very simplistic military understandings," Pike dryly retorted, "For instance, you seem to think that because you do not like someone, they stop being your ally. Yet we fight the same enemy, on the same side. I very much doubt the Council likes the quarians...and yet they are still allies, because they both fight the Reapers. Take this as a lesson, Nakmor Dreg...do not threaten your allies. You may find yourself in need for them one day, and whether they save you or let you die is all dependent on whether you threatened them or not."

Dreg's smile did not diminish. "Like that'll ever happen. The Talons are cannon fodder, nothing more."

"Funny, I thought that's what Aria's forces were supposed to be," Pike reciprocated, "After all, without the UGC or the Talons, your forces would have been destroyed already and Aria would be back to square one."

This seemed to anger Dreg, the krogan bristling as his smile gave way to a slight sneer, "We're just using the Talons to get what we want. We don't need you."

"Empirical evidence says otherwise, but that's irrelevant," Pike turned back to Bray, making a show to ignore Dreg, "I will not talk to Sata T'Loak again, if that'll satisfy her mother, but you would do well to learn from this."

Bray just frowned. "Learn from what?"

"Threatening me, and threatening your allies." He said no more, pushing his way past Bray and Dreg before they had a chance to conjure up a rebuttal. Moving through the door, he returned to the rear garage, pondering what had just happened the entire way, remembering what he had said to Sata, and what had been said to him.

Yes, Nyreen was right. No, Sata was not ready. But that could change, and if Nyreen truly meant to overthrow Aria the moment Petrovsky was defeated, then Sata needed to be ready. Hopefully his talk with her had sown the seeds of doubt plentifully, allowing them to grow inside her mind. The hatred for Aria was already there, they just needed to harness it: turn it from hatred for Aria into compassion for Omega. Because in the end, it wasn't just about overthrowing Aria...doing so was just one step in attaining their ultimate goal.

Saving Omega.

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_1041 hours._

_Element Zero Processing Plant, Mining Sector, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Light Prophet._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

Due to the darkness of the chamber, Marcus couldn't really tell if he was gaining consciousness, or if he was still unconscious. Such was the vast, dark blanket that presided over him.

The first indicator to him that he had been unconscious was the sudden stab of pain in his side. He could feel bruising beginning to take shape there, likely a result of him hitting something hard. It was a dull pain though, which told him that, thankfully, he hadn't broken anything. That was good: a broken leg or cracked rib was the last thing he needed right now when trapped in the middle of a hornet's nest of adjutant zombie creatures.

The second indicator to him was the sense of feeling returning to his body. He wiggled his fingers, and found them to be responsive, which meant he hadn't been unconscious for long due to the lack of atrophied muscles. He shifted one of his legs, and found that to respond just as well. No more pain flared up his body, confirming that he hadn't broken any bones. With that settled, all he needed to do now was open his damn eyes, and figure out where the hell he was.

He remembered falling into the darkness, and then landing on something... _hard_. It must have been hard enough for him to be knocked out, given his current drowsiness. His vision was slightly blurred and he felt the side of his head throbbing a little, but aside from that, no evidence of what had knocked him unconscious. All he knew was that he was very much alive, and that he was better off for it. Peeling his eyes open, he realized that his night vision was still active in his helmet, illuminating everything in bright, vibrant green. He took a moment to look around, groaning as he did, muscles aching from his fall.

Luckily for him, there had apparently been another catwalk running below the other one, as he had landed firmly upon it. He couldn't see much else from where he was, so he decided to begin the process of standing up. Feeling something in his grip, he looked over to find his rifle laying beside him, hand that gripped it lying gently ontop of it. Grateful that his weapon had not slid away, he gripped it firmly in his hand once again, and used his other arm to push himself up. He could hear something crackling in his ear, but he couldn't figure out what it was, his hearing slightly muted, but increasing with volume as he began to wake up. Now in a sitting position, he began the process of quickly standing.

He drank in his surroundings, arm twitching slightly as his vision spotted what looked to be a giant, black mass resting not a meter away from him, just behind where he had been laying. He raised his rifle, but knew the moment that he aimed down the sights that this adjutant was dead: the intense purple glow of the bulbous sacks on its back were dimmed to nothing, its body not moving at all: he could see that its body was charred black from repeated plasma bursts, solidifying in his mind its cause of death. He blew out a breath of relief, lowering his rifle as he confirmed that his life wasn't in any immediate danger.

Approaching the corpse, he nudged it with his boot, watching it peel away from the body with a black, stringey substance attached: he gave it a disgusted scowl, but made no effort to try and get rid of it, electing to simply edge his way past the dead adjutant, and move further down the empty catwalk. His vision was no longer blurred as his cybernetically enhanced eyes adjusted quickly, while his hearing began to catch up. The crackling sound was gone, although he made nothing of it. Now awake, he needed to make his way back up to the catwalk above him, and find out if his team is ok-

His team.

He stopped in his tracks, realizing that he had been seperated from them when he fell, and that the last thing he had heard was Tali screaming. Worry suddenly began to clutch at his mind, the N7 not sure what he was going to do. Luckily for him, the answer would come to him quickly.

He saw the muzzle flashes before he heard them. Orange and blue hues, briefly and lightly illuminating his peripheral vision from above. His eyes snapped up to look at where they had originated from and, sure enough, he could see the inconsistent flashes of weapons being fired, projectiles and plasma joining battle together to slice at their adjutant foes. The flashes were coming from different directions, which told Marcus that his squad was still alive and kicking, but he wasn't sure if anyone had been killed...

He growled in frustration, checking to make sure his rifle was loaded before turning and beginning to jog down the catwalk.  _I need to find a way back up there. If I can link up with them, we can push back towards that ladder and get out of here...but we'll need to do it before those adjutants_ _ **really**_ _start to congregate._

After jogging a few hundred meters, the crackle in his ear returned, this time much louder due to his hearing having cleared up. And this time, he knew exactly what it was.

"Damn it Marcus, please respond," Garrus' flanged voice reverbrated through the comms, breathing heavy due to strenuous fighting, "If you're out there, say something. Anything!"

He smiled, activating his own side of the comm in response, "I'm here, Garrus! I'm alive. Was knocked out when I fell, just woke up. Where are you? What about the rest of the team?"

Garrus seemed just as relieved to hear Marcus' voice as he did, "We couldn't reach the exit, so we split up to distract the adjutants and stop them from bunching up and overwhelming us. I've got Kasumi and Moses with me. I can see gunfire from where I am, so I know there are others still out there."

Marcus gulped, not liking the sound of that.  _He didn't mention Tali._ "What about Tali? Is she alright?"

"I don't know. Last I saw of her, she was with Nyreen, Aria and Liara, making a stand near the exit," possibly realizing that what he said wasn't exactly reassuring, Garrus spoke up again, standing more confident this time, "I'm sure she's fine, Marcus. Tali's a fighter. Besides, she's with a group of biotics, so I imagine she'd be doing better than most of us."

 _I hope so. Damn it, don't do anything foolish, Tali. Stay alive. That's all that matters._ His thoughts fell on deaf ears, he realized, but he knew what Tali was like. No doubt she was searching for him, going catwalk by catwalk. He also knew that she wouldn't stop her search for anything, even if an adjutant horde was building up. And that's what worried him: that she wouldn't give up even when the odds became too great. If both of them died...no, he simply couldn't let that happen.

_Junior can't grow up without parents. We can't do that to him._

"Where are you?" Garrus spoke up again, taking note of Marcus' silence to be that of concern, "We'll see if we can find you."

Marcus shook his head, "I can't tell, but I'd say I'm roughly two stories down from the original catwalk. I'm going to make my way up: don't make any active attempts to find me. We need to keep adjutant attention divided as best we can."

"Damn it Marcus, I'm not just going to-"

"Don't make me order you, Vakarian," he snapped, unwilling to compromise, "I'll be fine, but right now, you need to look after yourselves. If you can reach the ladder, do so. If you can't, then hold position. If you get attacked, relocate. Don't let them get a bead on you, no matter what."

"I-" the turian began, but cut himself off, sounding both annoyed and resigned, "Very well, Marcus. But you just stay alive, you hear me?"

"If I have anything to say about it, I'll live," he returned, holstering his rifle as he equipped his plasma shotgun, "I've survived a nest of thresher maws, Garrus. I'll live."

"Not exactly the same thing."

"Close enough," he replied. Before he cut the comms however, he spoke up again, voice softening, "And please Garrus, if you find Tali before I do...don't let her come looking for me. Have Moses restrain her if you have to. The mission... _our kid_ , comes first. Promise me you will do this."

There was some hesitance, but he knew Garrus was aware of their secret agreement. It was one Tali was entirely unaware of, and one he would continue to keep hidden from her until necessary, "I promise."

"Good luck. Marcus out," the comm went silent after that, and he summarily disconnected it. Raising the shotgun to his shoulder, he continued the pace he had been going at. He had switched to his shotgun due to having noticed how effective Tali had been when using it against the adjutants. It was apparent that adjutant skin was resistant to bullets, but highly vulnerable to plasma or anything with corrosive properties. This made sense, as plasma dealt more damage to a target over time compared to a standard projectile, whose damage ratio was limited to its initial impact. With plasma, depending on the material it came into contact with, it could continue to burn and peel away at the surface it impacted for well over a minute after it slammed into its target. This made it difficult to regenerate wounds like that, and with the plasma shotgun firing two blobs of highly concentrated plasma, the attack would be enough to blow away large portions of flesh, whilst subsequently dealing more damage over time.

In short, the geth had unintentionally created the ultimate anti-regenerative weapon.

The weapon still felt alien in his hands, its bulky design and stiff trigger giving away just how much it was designed with geth in mind. The stock sat uncomfortably against his shoulder, while his left hand gripped the shotgun a bit too close to its secondary barrel. The shotgun had two modes of fire: single fire and charged shot, with the second proving to be devastating to adjutants in particular.

As focused as he was on analyzing his new weapon, it took a split second for the growl behind him to register in his head.

The moment that it did, he swung suddenly to the right, diving into a roll. He felt a rush of air batter his helmet where the adjutant had taken a swipe at him, missing him by a hair breadth: had he waited a second longer, its possible the adjutant would have decapitated him.

Emerging from his roll, he spun to face the new arrival. He hadn't seen or heard the adjutant coming, which only proved to be a testament to its predatory abilities. It growled at him as it turned to face its intended victim, surprised that he had seen it coming and avoided its blow. Gritting his teeth, Marcus wasted no time in answering with a retaliatory strike: he pulled the trigger on his shotgun.

It buckled heavily in his grip, as if it was trying to shake its way out his hands. A bolt of brilliant, white plasma erupted from the barrel, the heat felt through the gauntlet of his left hand, causing goosebumps along its ridge. His night vision registered the bolt as a great flash, which almost blinded him, had it not been so temporary. That initial flash was actually the barrel igniting the plasma within the chamber and firing it outwards: the actual bolt itself wasn't as intense in color. He barely got to see this though, as the bolt closed the distance quickly, blasting away at the adjutant's torso.

The adjutant roared angrily as the plasma immediately began to singe and burn away the surrounding flesh at the impact site. Black liquid spurted out, hissing angrily as it came into contact with the superheated material, some of it evaporating instantly. Marcus grinned at his handiwork, gripping the trigger again as he prepared for a second shot.

The adjutant didn't wait, lashing out in fury at the human. Marcus felt the shotgun slapped from his hands, landing several meters away from where he had been. Knowing that he would not be able to reach it in time before the adjutant was upon him, he chose to grab an incendiary grenade from his belt, holding it as he gazed back at the adjutant. The creature's eyes landed on the small cylindrical device in the captain's gauntleted palm, the surface smooth and coloured in contrasting red and yellow. Along the bottom, in small lettering, was 'CAUTION: do not prime until ready to use. Contains the highly flammable acids 'naphthenic' and 'palmitic'.'

Good ol' napalm. More specifically, this little brew was Napalm C: the Alliance's most modern form of the deadly substance. And this adjutant was about to get a face full of it. As Robert M. Neer called it, the "flames of hell".

His thumb brushed the detonator, and he tossed it in a wide arc, straight at the adjutant's face. Apparently it understood weapons, but not grenades, because it made no move to try and evade the grenade, simply staring at it like the human had just thrown a pebble at it. Not wanting to be near it when it blows, Marcus rolled backwards, putting as much distance between him and the creature. This time, he  _did_ turn off his night vision, switching to flashlights.

The adjutant disappeared as the darkness seemingly consumed all that was once illuminated, only for white light to push back some of it. He could just make out the outline of the adjutant as the grenade exploded directly infront of its face. There was a small flash for but a split second, briefly lighting up the adjutant's piercing glare...before the big explosion came. The creature was thrown back by the shockwave as the grenade blew up in full force, liquid fire obliterating its upper torso immediately as the highly adherent and virulent compound began to eat away at the rest, spreading like literal wildfire as it moved to encompass the entire adjutant's form, flames licking at every piece of exposed flesh hungrily. The shockwave shook the entire catwalk violently, and the sound echoed across the chamber, no doubt attracting the attention of many more adjutants.

_Oh fuck._

He hadn't thought of that.

Not waiting to see the adjutant die, he turned around and grabbed his shotgun from the path, sprinting in the opposite direction. He could hear the adjutant's howls as it was burned alive, the napalm consuming it whole, flesh and muscle and bone. The creature was no longer a threat, so just ran as fast as he could, trying to put as much distance between him and its corpse as he could. He found the catwalk leading off to the right, where a stairway lead up to a second level of catwalks. An inactive eezo processing unit took up most of the far wall, and towered over him at 30 meters: a series of catwalks aligned with it, and he had no doubt that up there, was the ladder he needed to reach...and his squad.

Switching back to night vision, he rushed up the stairs, no longer caring for the sound it made or how much attention he was attracting. In large, upward leaps, he managed to tackle the stairs in less than three seconds, finding himself now squarely on the second level, just below the one he needed to get to. Taking a deep breath to calm his thumping heart, he did a quick scan of the area to make sure he hadn't been followed. While he continued to hear the distant screeches of adjutants everywhere, none of them were coming from where he had just been. Aside from, perhaps, the lingering groans of the now thoroughly incinerated adjutant he had napalmed not a moment before.

_Plasma and napalm. Two things that can kill adjutants. Will have to keep that in mind._

He turned around quickly, making sure to never keep his back turned for too long, lest an adjutant sneak up on him again. He took a good long look at the eezo processing unit next to him, which looked to have been powered down for years, grime coating its exterior in a thick sheet. He sniffed, his olfactory filters detecting the powerful scent of eezo residue and molten sulfur. The smell was so overpowering he felt he had to switch off the filters before it became too much. Turning from the giant, abandoned machine, he proceeded around the corner of the catwalk, expecting an adjutant to be waiting for him.

There was. Luckily, it was dead already.

Its body leaned against the railing, crushing it partly underneath its weight. Surprisingly enough, the kill was recent, as steam continued to pour from the holes in its skin. There was a dim glow still pulsating from it, although it grew dimmer with every passing second. He swore he saw it flinch for a moment, his shotgun trained on its head in case it wasn't actually dead: a few seconds passed, and it didn't move. Convinced it was fully dead, he carefully approached it, finding that one of its legs had been severed down to the thigh, while one of its eyes was missing, the culprit tracked down to what was presumably a plasma burst that tore through the back of its head and out the other side. Just like all the other adjutants, it appeared it had taken every bit of firepower available to bring it down.

The adjutant stirred again, but Marcus realized this wasn't the creature itself moving, but something  _pushing_ it. Edging around the deceased adjutant's flank, he kept his weapon at the ready, only to slowly lower it once he saw what was waiting for him on the other side. The form of a red-armoured, oriental-in-style alien wielding a particle rifle was all too familiar.

"Javik," he spoke, just as the prothean turned to look at him, "Finally, a friendly face."

The prothean nodded stoically, before turning back to the adjutant. It was clear Javik was responsible for this adjutant's death, his particle rifle resting against the creature's side. Oddly enough, the prothean seemed to be examining its body, poking at it as he searched across its rotting form to find...whatever it was he was looking for. A weakness, perhaps? Or was it just prothean curiosity at work?

"Javik...what are you doing?" Marcus queried, swiftly turning to look down the catwalk behind Javik as he heard a loud growl echo across the chamber. He was definitely getting a bit too jumpy.  _Pitch black darkness and surrounded by hordes of adjutants that I can't fucking see. This isn't the perfect tactical scenario._

The prothean stood up, picking up his rifle as he did, ripping off a flap of aging flesh that coated the barrel, likely from when he had shoved the weapon into the creature's stomach, "These adjutants are unlike any other Reaper abomination I've encountered. Regenerative abilities of a krogan. Strength of a yahg. Reaction time and precision of a salarian. The pack mentality of a vorcha. This creature is an answer to those strengths."

 _That's a scary thought._ "You're saying the adjutants were created specifically to combat the strengths of all these races?"

"No," the prothean replied, "I'm saying that these adjutants have evolved. They have absorbed the genetic material of those they have infected and consumed. They have then passed on these traits to other adjutants. They are not just husks: these are parasites."

"Well I'll be damned," Marcus exclaimed, realizing what the prothean was getting at, "Cerberus actually created something strong enough to take on Reaper ground forces and  _win_. And there are thousands of these damn things?"

Javik shook his head, "I've told you before, this Cerberus is indoctrinated. They may think they created the adjutants to fight the Reapers, but in the end, the Reapers implanted that thought. The Reapers intend to replace most of their ground forces with adjutants once their evolution is complete. Which is all the more reason for me to help you destroy every single one of them. They are abominations."

 _Unwittingly improving Reaper military performance. How far has the Illusive Man fallen at this point? The galaxy's most advanced R &D...puppets of the Reapers they claim to fight. _"You'll get no argument from me, Javik. I have no intention of letting these...things...escape Omega. I'll destroy the whole station, if that's what it takes."  _Hopefully it doesn't come to that..._

That seemed to impress the ancient warrior, "That is good, captain. You are learning."

He just glared at the prothean, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer. It was also partly because the prothean may have been somewhat right.  _War makes people desperate. War makes generals ruthless. It all comes down to ruthless calculus in the end._

"We need to get moving and link up with the rest of the squad," Marcus declared, nodding in the direction Javik had likely come from, "Had did you get down here? We need to follow that path back up. Find the others."

"We shouldn't waste time looking for survivors," Javik retorted, "The mission must continue. Destroying the adjutants is more important, and if we-"

"Don't continue that line of thinking," Marcus barked, grabbing Javik by the shoulderpad as he roughly pulled him forward, "No man gets left behind on  _my watch_. Especially not my  _squad._ I will not willfully abandon them. We're going to find them. If you want to go and try to be a hero, go ahead. But I'm going to find my team."

The prothean seemed to struggle with that, teeth gritting together in a sneer, "That is a mistake. The adjutants have likely killed them already."

He was having none of it, his grip tightening on the prothean's shoulder, "I don't  _care_. I won't just leave them to die. If its not my duty as a commanding officer, then it is my duty as their  _friend._ I can expect them to die for me if I won't risk my life for them? Like I said: you can go if you want. Or, you can follow me and find my squad. Its your choice, Javik. But as someone who is the last of his species, I thought you'd understand the need for  _allies_."

That last one noticeably bit deep, penetrating Javik's careless and cold exterior. The prothean glared back at him, but eventually blinked first, shaking his head, "Very well, captain. We shall do it your way."

Marcus nodded, loosening his grip on the soldier, "I meant what I said. I would risk my life for my team," he spared him once last glance, "...including you."

If Javik was affected by that comment, he didn't show it, "Soon, you will not have a choice. It will be your team or the galaxy. Remember: the graves of a trillion dead souls care not for your honor. They only care for vengeance."

 _Victory at any cost._ Tarquin's words had become a mantra, one Javik had unknowingly taken up himself, "And vengeance they shall get. But not at the sacrifice of what I stand for."

"A foolish notion. Perhaps if you-"

He felt it again. A growl. This time,  _infront of him._

_Shit!_

Without thinking, he rushed forward, dropping his shotgun as he tackled Javik to the floor. The adjutant flew over them, its charge meeting nothing but empty air as it barrelled past. The creature roared its defiance, skidding to a halt behind them as it turned to renew its assault. Marcus knew if they didn't react quickly, it would attract even more attention to them.

"We'll discuss this  _later_ ," he hissed, pencil rolling off of Javik to grab his shotgun, before shooting back to his feet. Javik made his verbal acknowledgement clear when he wordlessly stood up, particle rifle immediately taking aim and firing. A bright green lance of particle energy snapped from the barrel of his weapon and narrowly missed the adjutant, who rolled to the side in the instant it took for it to register the incoming attack. Marcus shot a plasma bolt in the direction it was headed, but the adjutant simply rotated its body to make itself a narrower target, the bolt hissing by as it missed by a milimeter. Apparently the adjutants were learning that plasma was bad.

_Great. So they can adapt. Definitely superior to husks._

The adjutant roared, its war cry piercing their eardrums as it beat its chest like a gorilla, growling and hissing at them, pacing back and forth as if...taunting them? Adjutants can do that too?

_We're learning an awful lot about these damn things._

"Javik, use your biotics!" Marcus barked, bringing his own forth as he prepared to unleash a shockwave on the adjutant. His body chilled, liquid blue pulsing through his veins, eyes watching his prothean squadmate as he too lit up in biotic flare, his green equivalent irradiating a sickly green, like a cloud of gas had enraptured him. Together, they let forth their respective assaults, his a shockwave while Javik distributed a torrent of repetitive warp fields, throwing one after the other.

The catwalk's supports groaned and screeched in complaint as the kinetic force of their biotics shook them violently, Marcus having to steady himself. He watched as the shockwave tunnelled its way towards his target, set to tear apart anything in its path.

The adjutant ducked and weaved through Javik's warp fields, despite the ferocity and speed at which they were thrown, the creature a blur as it dodged every single one, while getting closer and closer. However, once it turned to see Marcus' shockwave coming...well, by then, it was too late.

The shockwave slammed into the adjutant with unrelenting force, bashing it against the eezo processing unit behind it. The force was so strong that the adjutant left a massive dent in the machine, a cascade of dust and eezo residue kicking up into the air to surround the flailing adjutant. Disoriented, it was in no position to evade what came next. Rifle snapping up in an instant, Javik let loose a steady burst of particle energy, directly into the adjutant's torso. Simultaneously, Marcus began to charge up his plasma shotgun, watching the two barrels between to heat up rapidly as the plasma energy built up inside. He had to be careful not to overdo it: charge it up for too long and the heat risked compromising the chamber's casing, causing the shotgun to violenty explode, leaving Marcus with third degree burns...if he was lucky enough to walk away from it with his arms intact.

The adjutant had been trying to stand back up when the first particle beam hit it, tearing through flesh and bone to erupt out the other side, biting into the machine behind it. Almost literally impaled by particle light, the adjutant was helpless to defend itself as Javik continued to fire at every single inch of it: torso, head, arms, legs...nothing was left untouched. The adjutant let out one final screech before one of its arms was carved off, falling limply on the ground in a smoking pile.

By this point, his shotgun was fully charged. A blue indicator popped up on the gun's spine, close to the stock, indicating that the weapon was now 100% charged, and that any further charging would begin to damage the weapon. Without waiting to see if the adjutant was downed or not, he released the trigger.

He had felt recoil before, but he never got used to it. He felt the shotgun violently kick back into his shoulder as the twin bolts boomed from the double barrel, erupting in a brilliant display of heat, of which he could feel through his hardsuit. Lowering the smoking shotgun, he watched his handiwork close distance with the adjutant, who had now turned to watch the maelstrom of superheated energy race towards it.

The adjutant started to move, but it was too late.

The twin bolts made impact, and the adjutant's face immediately dissolved, strings of hot flesh blasted away in all directions. The creature slumped against the processing unit, completely limp as the plasma continued to eat away at its upper torso. Such was the intensity of the blast that some areas closest to the impact site caught on fire, but these were soon snuffed out. By the end, there wasn't much of the adjutant left except everything below its arms.

Javik approached the dead adjutant, nudging it with the barrel of his weapon to ensure it was deceased. Satisfied, the prothean walked back to Marcus, face devoid of emotion as it always seemed to be, "We must go, before more show up. And capta-"

"Don't say it," he cut him off, glaring at him once more, "My mind is unchanged. We proceed as planned."

Javik gritted his canine teeth, before finally giving a nod of defeat, "Very well." It was clear he had disappointed the prothean, but he could care less. He would either learn to get with the program, or be left behind. He couldn't abide by such ruthless disregard for one's own teammates. He considered many of the people in his squad to be family...Tali  _was_ his family. He couldn't,  _wouldn't_ , leave them behind. Damn the consequences.

Javik and Marcus continued through the darkness, their silent footsteps rendering their presence almost unnoticeable. Aside from the occassional bark of gunfire nearby, there was no evidence to suggest his squad was alive, but he would hold onto that hope no matter what. He had to believe that.

_Please be safe._

As if in answer to his call, Marcus snapped up a closed fist, ordering Javik to hold position. He heard something.

He listened intently. Even though the sound was faint, it was definitely there. It sounded like...clanging. Metal upon metal. Consistent, like a drumbeat...

Footsteps. They were footsteps. People  _running_.

Snapping up his shotgun, he motioned for his prothean companion to do the same. He could hear the footsteps coming from a nearby stairwell, and were approximately closing on their position. He motioned for Javik to take the left: if it was adjutants, they'd at least catch them in a crossfire. He crouched behind the railing, resting his shotgun on top as he prepared to begin charging a bolt.

He ceased doing so once the sources of the sound in question came into view.

He waved at Javik, making a hand motion across his throat to single for Javik to lower his weapon, "Friendlies. They're friendlies!"

There was four of them, and the lead one ceased moving, raising their weapon, "Who the fuck is that?"

"Shepard, Aria," he spat, standing up as he came around the corner, holstering his shotgun, "Lower your damn weapon. I'm obviously not an adjutant." Javik soon joined him, his particle rifle lowered but not holstered.

Aria, once she realized who it was she was talking to, lowered her shotgun, slowly approaching them. The three figures behind her quickly followed, their own weapons in their own forms of alert carry. As they approached, he remembered what Garrus had said...that Tali had been last spotted with-

The form at the back began to jog. Within moments, the distance was crossed, the figure holstering their shotgun as their arms opened wide. Despite wearing armor, Marcus still felt compressed as his wife wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Putting his own shotgun away, he returned the embrace in earnest, swearing he could almost feel her heartbeat through his armor, it was racing that fast.

Neither of them exchanged a word, breaking apart after a few seconds. Before she could speak, he held one finger to her vocalizer, interrupting whatever she was about to say, "You should know by now that a fall isn't going to kill me at this point."

She tapped her visor against his, springing herself up on her toes, "I knew you were alive. Keelah, I just knew it."

His warm smile turned grim, cupping her helmeted cheek with his left hand, "I was worried about you too, you know. When I fell, there were a lot of adjutants still up there."

She squeezed his shoulders, undeterred, "They never touched me." Noticing his look, she pulled away from him, arms spread out as if to demonstrate she was telling the truth, "Really, I'm fine! No scratches or suit breaches."

"Yeah, we're fine  _too_ , you know," Aria chastized, rolling her eyes. She moved up to the pair as they turned to face the asari, "And before we begin to celebrate this happy reunion, let me remind you we're still within a nest of hungry fucking adjutants who want to eat our flesh and turn us inside out."

Marcus sighed, waving a dismissive hand as he pulled out his shotgun, Tali doing the same, "I'm aware, Aria. I'm allowed to make sure my wife is okay," before she could speak further, he glared at her, holding up a hand to cut her off, "Which, mind you, is none of your damn business."

"We can bicker amongst ourselves, or we can keep moving," Nyreen piped up, having joined Javik in scanning the catwalk with her pistol, ensuring no more unwanted surprises sprung up, "The rest of your squad is still out there, Shepard. Best act fast if we hope to find them."

"We came down from the upper level," Liara spoke, having stayed at the top of the catwalk stairway to cover their flank, SMG in hand, "As far as we know, that's where the squad is. Aria, however, elected to lead us on a goose chase around the entire facility. Its a good thing we found you when we did."

Aria looked none too pleased at that comment, shooting the asari broker a glare of contempt, "We were being chased. It was run or die. I wasn't about to die."

"Well, we found each other, so its not that big a loss," Marcus added, trying to calm the situation before another argument broke out...something Aria seemed to have a penchant for, "Now, we go back and find more survivors. We need to get to that ladder. We do it quietly, but also quickly. It won't take long for the adjutants to find us with all these random encounters. I've killed about two adjutants already down here."

Nyreen stood up, walking back up the stairs to join them, "We didn't get too far. The stairs to the upper catwalk are about 400 meters that way," she pointed in the direction they had come running from, a catwalk that seemed to run the length of the chamber before wrapping around to the right, "As for adjutant activity...it was heavy when we left, but they've likely dispersed now."

"They could be waiting for us," Javik stated, still unconvinced this was a good plan, "The adjutants have proven more tenacious than we previously thought. A trap is not entirely beyond their sphere of intelligence."

As much as Marcus was getting sick of Javik's rhetoric, he had to admit there was some truth to what the prothean was saying. The adjutants could very well have pre-emptived an attempted regroup, and were lying in wait for them. But he also knew that was a risk he was willing to take for his team. He could not just abandon them. The concept was simply unfathomable to him. He turned to Nyreen, ignoring Javik as he nodded up the stairs, "Lead the way. We'll find the rest of the squad and press on to the reactor entrance. We've got people counting on us."

There were no further words between them except the ocassional order. They fell into a rhythm: Marcus at the front, Javik and Nyreen at the back, while Tali, Aria and Liara formed the center. They moved along the catwalk at a reasonable pace, but inevitably moved into a jog, finding the need for haste.

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_1053 hours._

_Element Zero Processing Plant, Mining Sector, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Light Prophet._

_Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak, Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Moses, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, General Nyreen Kandros._

What a merry crew Shepard kept around.

It had taken them very little time to link up with the rest of his squad. Garrus, Kasumi and Moses had apparently linked up with EDI, Kaidan, James and Keeling before they had reached them, the two groups confronting each other halfway to the third catwalk, where they had been split up to begin with. Finally 'reunited', the squad progressed at pace towards the ladder they had been tugged away from, desperate to escape the adjutant infested mining sector and be done with the horrendous creatures.

Of course, Shepard's insistence on finding his crew before proceeding onwards had been quite annoying. Aria had kept her mouth shut of course, having long reached the understanding that once the man's mind was set, there was no changing it. Apparently his prothean freak had voiced similar concerns, but had been brushed off by the human spectre. So instead of heading for the reactor as soon as possible, they had almost wasted time searching aimlessly for squad members that could have been dead anyway. What an absolute fucking waste of time.

_Oh well, the more the merrier? Strength in numbers? Oh, what the fuck does that mean. We don't have the numbers...the adjutants do._

Aria gritted her teeth, finding the urge to shoot something. She turned to the human soldier beside her, the one named Keeling, and took note of the N7's almost disinterested look. The asari knew it wasn't disinterest though: to the contrary, the special forces operative was paying close attention to her surroundings, eyes darting back and forth while the two green lights on the sides of her helmet (her night vision) lit up the area infront of her. The soldier didn't acknowledge Aria, and so the asari turned back around, shaking her head.

_Group of fucking nutjobs. You have jokers, and then you have...whatever she is. I'll never understand this man's petting zoo of a crew._

It certainly was an apt way of describing it. A turian, a quarian, an asari, some humans, a geth, an AI with a body, a prothean...it was like a walking museum. Aria's own entourage was far more simple: loyal-to-a-point batarians, turians, asari and the odd salarian.

_Ah yes, far more simple. No need for attachments. They're loyal or they're not. They die for me, or they don't._

She knew Shepard hated her. That much was obvious in how he looked at her, and she didn't think much of his squad either. She had even tried to convince him to leave them behind, but the insufferable human had insisted. Said they were an 'operational necessity', and even went as far to bring his own fleet and army. And Aria had let him: there was a time where she would have told him to fuck off.

_And there was a time where Omega was mine and no one dared cross me. Where the Patriarch was my toy...a symbol of my power, who I had killed to get it, and of the one damn rule you don't break. Perhaps when this is over, I'll keep Petrovsky as my new trophy...or I'll put him in charge of Omega's sanitary department._

That made her grin.  _Oh, how I'll make that piece of shit suffer. For taking my station. For taking my people. For taking what is rightfully mine. I'll strangle him with his own guts, the smug fucker. Or maybe, I'll keep an adjutant on the side and feed him to it when this is done...oh, there's an idea. What a delicious thought._

She must have sounded sadistic. Good. She had no time for the light hearted. She would take great pleasure in killing Petrovsky, and when it was all said and done, she would explain to Nyreen the one rule on Omega you didn't break. Her Talons would fall in line, or they would all pay.

Aria's thoughts were broken apart when she heard gunfire.

The entire squad stopped, Marcus raising a closed fist to signal them to cease movement. They heard gunfire again, followed by screams and orders being shouted. It couldn't have possibly been them, as everybody had been accounted for. It was then, with morbid amusement, that Aria realized who the culprits must be: Cerberus.

"Hostiles, catwalk parallel to us, at exactly 3 o'clock," Keeling stated, rifle trained on the source of the muzzle flashes and the sounds that accompanied them, "I see at least...fourteen Cerberus foot mobiles."

More gunfire. But it was becoming clear that Cerberus wasn't shooting at them. They would have been hit by now if that was the case, and Aria's own night vision wasn't picking up the telltale lines heading towards them that came with tracers. No, Cerberus was shooting at something else, and they all knew what it was.

"Fall back!" one Cerberus centurion shouted, mattock coughing and once again interrupting the silence of the chamber. Growls and roars answered his call, "Guardians, take the front. Engineers, scramble turrets! Everyone else, suppression fire! We nee-"

More flashes, and finally, the squad watched as the targets in question came into view.

Sixteen adjutants, all of them charging straight at the Cerberus formation, a seething mass of flesh and raw hunger that was descending upon the retreating squad, howling and hissing and spitting angrily. Bullets harmlessly slapped into them, bodies regenerating too fast for the attacks to have an effect. The result of this battle was all too clear.

Marcus lowered his fist, "Leave them to their fate. As long as those adjutants don't know we're here, we should be fine. Proceed."

And so they did, entirely unsympathetic to the Cerberus plight occurring barely 200 meters from where they were. Aria just continued to watch in sadistic glee as the first adjutant reached the Cerberus phalanx, landing ontop of a guardian's shield and pinning him to the ground. It ripped the shield off of him with enormous strength, tearing the arm holding it clean off in a geyser of blood. The guardian screamed in agony before the adjutant clamped its jaw over his head, pulling away as it decapitated him, the top half of his spine tearing away with it as blood spat out from the severed apparatus in long spurts. The rest of the soldiers continued to fire, but their fate was sealed. The adjutants were relentless, without mercy.

They howled.

"Come on Aria," a voice broke Aria from her gleeful observation of the grisly sight. She turned to see Nyreen waiting for her, urging her on, "We need to keep moving." The turian's stance said it all: she wasn't amused.

"Of course, Nyreen," Aria laughed, turning away just as an adjutant picked up an engineer's turret and proceeded to bludgeon him to death with it, "Was just enjoying the sight."

It was clear the ex-Cabal was deliberately trying not to look at it, Nyreen's fear of the abominations laid bare for Aria to see. It made her sick: this turian, all confidence and moral empowerment, broke down at the simple sight of an adjutant. It was pathetic, and quite frankly, Aria couldn't understand it.

"Get a grip," she spat, turning to join the squad as Nyreen moved alongside her, "Watching you mope around like a frightened volus gets old after a while."

The turian wasn't in the mood, her voice bitter, "Like I care what you think of me."

"There was a time when you did, Nyreen."

"When I was your pet, you mean," Nyreen shot back, glaring at her ex-girlfriend. Growling, she turned away once more, checking her pistol almost as an excuse to simply not lock eyes with the asari.

Aria just groaned, unimpressed.  _What a mess._ "You're so fucking pathetic. You have no problem standing up to me, but an adjutant causes you to freeze in fear. You need to  _get a grip_ , Nyreen."

"You didn't watch your own squad get torn apart by those things!" Nyreen snapped back, "Don't you lecture me about getting a grip! Don't you  _dare_!  _You're_ the woman who couldn't just roll over. Couldn't accept that Petrovsky  _beat_ you. No, you had to gather an army to retake this sorry excuse of a space station. So don't tell me about  _getting a grip_."

The pirate queen laughed, slapping Nyreen on the back. The turian flinched away from the gesture, "If only you had the gumpton to use that anger to kill adjutants. You might actually be threatening."

"I don't need to justify myself to you."

"Whatever you say. Would it help if you thought of me as a heartless bitch?"

"It helps because its the  _truth_. You care for noone but yourself. Couldn't even give our daughter the time of day long enough to care. Too busy sulking in your stupid fucking night club," Nyreen replied bitterly, mandibles twitching in barely contained anger, "I hope Petrovsky burnt it to the ground. And that couch you love so much."

Aria wasn't amused anymore. She spun to face the turian, belligerent that this turian could have audacity to accuse her in such a way that highlighted her own hypocrisy, "Says the one who  _ran away_ before our daughter was even  _born_. You're just as guilty as me, Nyreen."

"I had to. To get away from you. I couldn't let myself  _turn_ into you," she replied succintly, like she had expected Aria's response, "You had me commit crimes I never have saw myself committing back on Palaven. My own cousin effectively disowned me. My family thought I was a disgrace. I had to save myself from you. And I  _never_ stopped caring about Sata. I provided to her what you couldn't:  _love_. I was, and still am, a far better mother than you."

Aria was ready to hit her for that. Never would she have dared to say such things when she was ruler of Omega. Anyone else, and she'd have killed them on the spot, or had Anto shoot them or Bray flush them out an airlock. The asari restrained herself, biting her tongue as she turned and stormed ahead of the turian, heading for the center of the squad so as to maintain distance from her.

Nyreen had gotten to her, she knew that much, and she hated it. What she hated more was that she was right.

_She was always the perfect one. 'Oh, we can try diplomacy! Why haven't we tried to think this through? Why must we always kill!?' The criminal life never suited her. She loves being the white knight. The purveyor of justice. She thrives on the thrill of saving lives. She's living a fantasy. Such a naive little cunt._

Flustered and irritated, the asari made sure she was nowhere near the turian, but at the same time didn't turn around to look at her: to let her know just how much she had bothered her with her statement. Cocking her shotgun, she licked her lips, once again focusing on the distant cries of distress as the rest of the Cerberus unit on the opposite catwalk were subject to a massacre. She closed her eyes, imagining their sawed off limbs, decapitated heads and their bodies as they were transformed into more adjutants, adding unto the army of dread. The thought made her smile, washing away whatever doubts Nyreen had planted within her mind.

"Wait, I recognize this area," Shepard announced, causing her to open her eyes and look straight at him, "This is the catwalk we were on when the adjutants ambushed us. We're not far from the reactor entrance."

_Well that's a relief. Can't handle another second having to look over my shoulder. The darkness. The feeling of being watched. The sheer immensity of adjutants. I'll be glad when we can go back to killing Petrovsky's little foot soldiers. That'll be fun._

There was a noticeable increase to their movement, with the squad realizing that their goal was once more just within their grasp. They quickly broke into a jog, the prevailing opinion that they refused to be thrown off course again. Shepard seemed to be the one to trigger this decision, the N7 breaking into a light run before the rest of his team joined him. But Aria couldn't help but notice just how loud a sound they were now making.

Enough to attract a horde.

They ignored the telltale sounds of growling and hissing behind them, not as distant as they would like. There was banging as something landed on the catwalk behind them, causing them all to break into a sprint as they realized the adjutants were onto them. Aria couldn't help but turn to see what was behind them, doing so just as Nyreen, being at the back, primed a pair of element zero grenades and tossed them behind her, hoping it would slow down their pursuers. She never stopped running, her long strides allowing her to outpace the geth prime infront of her. The grenades detonated moments later in blinding balls of blue light, the explosion sends sheets of metal flying through the air as a hole was torn into it, shredding it and leaving a gaping hole in the catwalk.

It wouldn't slow them down for long.

They rounded the corner, Shepard staying behind as he took aim with his shotgun to aim down behind them. Moses and Javik joined him, weapons primed and readied to open fire. Aria paid them no mind, but couldn't help but turn to deliver a blow of her own, brimming with biotic light as she whirled to face her foe.

Around twenty or so adjutants awaited them, growing in number. They charged them, screeching and howling their demonic screams as they moved. Some of them looked brand new almost, their purple glow more intense than the others, their skin largely untouched by cellular decay or their black blood drying on their skin. It was then she realized those adjutants must have been the Cerberus squad that were slaughtered.

She snarled, sending forth the biggest pulse of dark energy she could muster, watching as her biotic flare snapped from her fist and headed straight for the lead adjutant. It impacted with a thunderous clap, the adjutant that was hit by it directly disappearing instantly in a blaze of fire. The sound and feel of the explosion washed over them, causing them to stumble slightly. Wasting no time to witness her handiwork, she turned and joined the rest of the squad, with Shepard, Javik and Moses already retreating to join them, whilst covering the flank.

But her flare had either done nothing to them, or they had simply been replaced. Because moments after the detonation, more cries joined those from before, engaging in a chorus of hunger and rage. They had simply pissed them off and awakened all of them.

The ladder was in sight, identifiable by the sixteen foot rungs that extended up into the air, ending at a large cylindrical apparatus attached to the side of the wall, a large 8 by 8, airtight door at the top. Part of the guardrail was missing on the left side: where Shepard had been thrown off by a charging adjutant. This was the place.

Keeling got there first, holding her weapon in one hand while using her other hand to climb each rung. Once she was halfway up, she turned around and wrapping one arm inbetween the rungs to hold her in place while she raised her rifle with one hand, essentially wielding it by the hip. She shouted across to them, "The door is sealed shut! Its too thick for omni-blades to cut through...we need a plasma weapon!"

"Here!" she heard Shepard's quarian wife shout out, "Have my shotgun!"

Keeling holstered her rifle just as Tali's shotgun came towards her. Keeling plucked it from the air, quickly turning to take aim at the door as she continued her climb. Next behind her was James, LMG holstered, the marine's pace fast and with haste. Garrus was not far behind either, the turian's legs making his ascent more awkward.

Reaching the top, Keeling braced herself against the ladder, aiming her shotgun directly at the center of mass. Charging it up, she then fired it point blank into the door, the N7 flinching back as the heat and blast almost consumed her. Once the immediate blast cloud cleared, they saw a clean hole through the door, the sides singed red hot as they cooled from the plasma impact. Dropping the shotgun back to Tali, who retrieved it gracefully as it fell, Keeling managed to squeeze herself through the relatively small hole, only just managing to fit. Meanwhile, gunfire from another direction piped up, Aria turning to watch as Shepard, Moses and Javik emptied what firepower they had directly into the adjutant horde that was approaching, doing everything they could to stem incoming onslaught.

Aria turned around just in time to watch as Keeling opened the door from the other side, sliding across to the left, out of sight. Keeling then appeared at the top, ushering people inside, "Now! Go now! Get inside, quickly!"

Nobody waited. James was already halfway up the ladder by the time she called out, and the marine darted inside. Garrus followed close behind, then Kasumi, and then Nyreen. Soon, almost everybody was inside, leaving only the three defending their rear, in addition to Aria and Tali.

The quarian was hesitating, eyes darting between the ladder and Shepard. Aria rolled her eyes, uncaring as to the quarian's dilemma as she rudely prodded her towards the ladder, trying to encourage the quarian to climb. All she did was glare at her.

"Well, climb!" Aria snapped, "Snap the fuck out of it!"

"You go first!" Tali barked in reply, stepping away from the ladder.

"Fine, whatever," Aria retorted, uncaring for Tali's dilemma. She grabbed at the fourth rung, quickly pulling herself into a rhythm as she ascended, one step after the other, not sparing a single thought for what went on behind her. She soon reached the top, pulling herself up and over the lip before rolling into a position where she could look down onto the area below. Compared to the darkness below, this place actually had some form of emergency lighting, making the need for night vision unnecessary, the asari switching them off soon after, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the lighting.

_Much better. Seeing everything in green gets to be a pain in the ass after a while._

To her surprise, Tali was now climbing her way past the door, seemingly having abandoned her spousal duty to wait for her husband. However, this proved not to be the case, watching as Javik appeared, holstering his particle rifle as he began his climb. The final three.

"Hurry!" Shepard shouted, firing behind him at a foe they could not see, but could hear very plainly. Moses provided the majority of the suppressive fire, going so far as make sweeping lanes of fire so as to cover the waves upon waves of adjutant in hot, plasmatic death. It wouldn't be enough soon however, so they had to hurry. Javik was almost inside when Shepard turned and began to climb, leaving the geth prime alone to make a final stand against the adjutants.

Shepard was having none of it though, quickly turning to look down below him, hanging onto the rungs with one hand, "Moses, hurry up!" he looked back up, "We need supporting fire! Cover Moses!"

They all did just that. Javik turned and fired with his particle rifle, quickly joined by James' Revenant LMG, the sputter of Keeling's Valkyrie rifle, and the boom of Tali's plasma shotgun. Together, they emptied what they had into whatever enemies they could find, giving Moses enough time to fall back. Shepard was inside by the time the geth prime made its ascent. Its massive frame compared to the tiny ladder made it a particular comedic sight, but not one anybody was laughing at. It was a good thing the door was so large too, otherwise the prime might not have fit.

Even with their suppression fire, the absence of Moses' massive firepower didn't go unnoticed. The adjutants rushed forward, screeching and clawing for a chance to kill their prey. They slammed into the ladder, buckling it. Moses was just out of their reach, the creatures taking swipes at the geth, but to no avail. Soon, Moses was entirely out of their reach as it finally climbed the last rung and stepped into the room with them. With the entire squad accounted for, Keeling began to close the door.

The adjutants were quick, but not quick enough. Despite the ladder rapidly falling apart due to their mass straining and twisting its structure, they were able to climb up the walls to reach their destination, and their movement became like that of a whorlpool: decentralized in the middle, but rapidly ascending upwards along the sides as they clambered up the walls.

As it was, Aria just laughed as the door slammed shut just as the first adjutant reached it, slamming uselessly against it with a loud bang. Many more bangs followed, eventually erupting into a cacophony as hundreds of adjutants pounded uselessly against its surface. Keeling immediately locked it afterwards, ensuring nobody could open it again unless they chose to do so.

The entire squad took a moment to breathe. Shepard hugged Tali, the quarian reciprocating quite happily with a nervous laugh of triumph. Javik and Moses moved ahead to scout it out, while Nyreen simply stared at the door with wide eyes, like she had seen a ghost.

Aria just continued to laugh maniacally, like she had lost her mind. She just couldn't stop laughing, her amusement at the situation beyond her ability to comprehend.  _We came so close to death. Death reached out its claws to scratch us, and we just managed to escape its reach. So. Fucking. Close._

Aria's laughter didn't go unnoticed, the entire squad, sans Javik and Moses, turning to look at her as if she was mad. Shepard broke from Tali to look at the pirate queen, and when Aria noticed that he hadn't stopped looking at her incredulously, she finally ceased laughing, bringing it down to a chuckle, " _That_ was fucking  _exciting_."

Shepard didn't share her opinion, "We almost died. I fail to see what's amusing."

"That's right, Shepard. You fail," Aria shot back, giving another chuckle. She stood up, shotgun in hand, adrenaline filling her body with enough energy to take on an entire Cerberus regiment by herself, "This was nothing but fun. Nothing is more electric than running from a horde of flesh hungry monsters. Wouldn't you all agree?"

There was silence. Guess that was her answer.

_Huh, I see. All banter and brains, but when the real excitement comes, they're scared for their lives. How thoroughly predictable._

"All who vote that Aria is now clinically insane?" Garrus joked, raising his hand. Virtually everyone rose their hand, including Nyreen. The turian grinned, lowering his hand as everyone else did, "Then I rest my case."

"So what now, sir?" Keeling asked, already standing at attention. The woman had consumed barely a quarter of a canteen and half a ration bar before she was on her feet and at attention again, "With the adjutant threat contained, I would think proceeding to the reactor would now be critical. We're behind schedule."

"Agreed," Shepard declared, grabbing the shotgun he had left leaning against the ground and holstering it, pulling out his pulse rifle instead, "Take a quick breather and then get ready to move out. It should be nothing but a simple walk from here. After all, this area is supposed to be abandoned." He then turned and edged past Tali to get an update from Javik and Moses, the quarian opening her omni-tool to check on something, likely her suit systems.

Aria just looked back down at the door, the sound of adjutants banging against it having been drowned out and muted by the squad. Aria didn't though. She focused on it. She slapped it firmly within her foremost memory. She wanted to remember what it was like to be chased by adjutants, and to not have been afraid.

She looked up at Nyreen, the pair locking eyes, like she had been reading Aria's thoughts. She smiled.

_Oh no, I'm no coward like you, Nyreen. I face my nightmares. You run from them._

_And that...is why you don't fuck with Aria._

**"Now you're moving onto the reactor?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes. It was supposed to be a clean path. Almost no enemy resistance whatsoever. I veritable walk in the park."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"It wasn't like that at all."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Nope. Not at all."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**OOOOHHHHHHHHH HELLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO** _

_**That's right, I'm back from the dead. Took a much needed break from this story so that I could focus on some other...more prioritized affairs. One of which was my brother dying in a buggy accident...so I hope you can understand why I've been absent for so long, as it was that, combined with a lack of motivation.** _

_**Funnily enough, I was content to let this story lie until I got motivation from reading a currently ongoing Mass Effect fanfic. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm referring to the Quantum Error: Patriarch by Rob Sears: an insanely talented writer, and one of my chief inspirations for dark content. I strongly recommend checking out his stories if you haven't already (don't worry, the majority is MShep/Tali pairings). Quantum Error is one of his more original fics, so while it may be difficult to get into initially, its well worth it.** _

_**For those who do know what Patriarch is and are thinking 'what the fuck has that got to do with Holocaust? They're two entirely different genres', I'll say that it was the dark and bleak outlook of Patriarch that really inspired me to return. So...yeah, thanks for that, Rob Sears.** _

_**Well, I've said enough. I'm back, and for the distant future, you'll be getting Holocaust chapters. Frequently? Nope. Reasonably soon? Perhaps. Will you get them at all? Fuck yeah!** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers, and goddamn does it feel good to be back!** _


	74. Played By Both Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The force field network collapses: the final battle begins as the UGC launch a massive offensive across all of Omega. Leng recalls the atrocities he committed to get this far.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX:**

**PLAYED BY BOTH SIDES**

_August 7, 2186_

_1119 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_General Oleg Petrovsky, Colonel Connor Amish, Colonel Kirk Farland_ , _Colonel Mitchell Wchest, Colonel Heather Colwood._

The sting of defeat hung heavy in the air, but not once did it ever feel that it was suffocating.

On the contrary, they were on the cusp of victory.

He overlooked the courtyard outside New Order HQ from where he stood on the balcony six stories above the ground, clad in his white Cerberus officer's uniform, the subtle ping the only trace left of the fact that he had just deactivated his omni-tool, having checked it for status updates on Colwood's forces, which were currently entangled with the UGC in the Rubicon quadrant, engaging them in what amounted to jabs and bug bite engagements. Standing behind him, silent as the grave and utterly without movement were two Shadow Force troopers, their oddly cool, but intimidating, cobalt gaze pointed directly ahead, Saber rifles primed in an alert carry position. The two troopers, Hendricks and Nguyen, were the only ones of their unit to still be present with the Apex: the rest of their company, the 9th Shadow Force company, known colloquially as the 'Greywolves', were deployed in the Rubicon quadrant with the vast majority of Farland and Amish's forces to prepare for Operation Invincible. Of course, two Shadow Force troopers were all he needed for bodyguards.

The courtyard, filled with Wchest's troops, had been heavily fortified for a while now, the motorpool gathering outside the headquarters building quite impressive in its sheer size. The barricades and defensive perimeter would be nigh impenetrable to any suicidal attempt to charge it, and anti-air defenses were established with a hundred yard circumference of the area, with a combination of surface-to-air missile batteries, intermediate range pulse laser turrets and Scutum close-in weapon systems (typically used on warships) providing enough anti-aircraft coverage to keep away bombers or artillery. The heart of Omega was well defended, and he had spared no expense in ensuring that was so.

Truly, victory was within his grasp. Despite their initial setbacks, he had many things going in his favour: despite the costly destruction of two regiments of his own troops, he had no doubt he had sustained heavy casualties on the UGC in return, which was costly enough given they were already outnumbered to begin with: while his reconnaissance had failed to give him an accurate estimate of UGC numbers, so he was essentially having to assume their numerical position: Petrovsky strongly disliked operating off of estimates, always preferring to role his dice when he had the numbers laid out for him. Perfect intelligence was the cornerstone of any great victory. Without it, you were fighting blind. Luckily, he had other tricks up his sleeve, ones that didn't involve estimates or approximations, but facts.

In just three days, the Cerberus Fifth and Ninth fleets would arrive, and smash the UGC blockade, not to mention bring a fresh supply of troops to bolster what they had lost: with two fleets, that would be at least 8 to 9,000 reinforcements, and that wasn't counting the supplies and equipment that came with it. And geth or no geth, the UGC fleet would break under the strain of so many ships. Petrovsky knew Cerberus would be straining their resources to the limit: he knew Cerberus had to be running numerous operations across the galaxy. Despite having an almost inexhaustible amount of troops and resources (which even Petrovsky had to both marvel at and question, given the organization's prior size), Cerberus was not infinite: they would run out of troops eventually. Still, Omega was a significant asset to the Illusive Man, one the leader of Cerberus could not simply abandon, even if the risk of diverting resources was greater than simply leaving his best general to his own devices.

Thirdly, if the reinforcements didn't pan out, then there was Project Adversity to consider: as much as he disliked the idea of utilizing the abominable creatures as supersoldiers, preferring to stick to the tried-and-true trooper with a rifle. Still, if push came to shove and Shepard somehow managed to defeat Operation Invincible, he had no doubt that Project Adversity would produce the means from which he would be able to crush Aria's little raiding party once and for all. He had shown Aria clemency the last time he had defeated her: he had allowed her to leave. He had known that she would return someday to reclaim her station, and he had done everything to prepare for that moment...unfortunately, he had failed to take the UGC into account. After all, who would have expected the Great Commander Shepard, a man of moral fibre and a shining paragon of galactic hope, to join forces with the likes of a pirate queen and her band of criminals and mercenaries? It was an alliance made in fandom, one would think.

But he would not show Aria mercy again. Once he defeated her again, he would make sure she couldn't come back. Aria was a persistent woman: she would never accept defeat, would never capitulate. She would simply leave, assemble another army, and return: no matter how feeble her attempts each time, she would return. No...the only way to permanently ensure the safety of Omega was to remove the tumor that constantly kept sprouting up. Aria was a cancer upon the station, and that cancer needed to be purged.

He had recently spoken with the Illusive Man via QEC, informing him of his progress. Suffice to say the man was pleased, even if it was sometimes difficult tell his commander-in-chief's demeanour at the best of times. Construction on the Titan project had been accelerated nonetheless, the UGC's focus on Omega having forced the project's schedule to be pushed ahead. Titan was to be Cerberus' most gargantuan project: a space station rivalling Omega in size. Once completed, the station would be named 'Fort Atlantis', and would serve as Cerberus' official base of operations within the northwestern sector of the galaxy, as well as the headquarters of Cerberus' military arm.

Petrovsky had managed to procure copies of the plans for himself, and marvelled at the spec: it was truly a modern technological marvel, a show of Cerberus' nearly unrivalled mastery of the technological sciences. Using technology recovered from the Collector Base's ruins in the galactic core, the station had mass effect fields so powerful, it could effectively orbit a black hole. Its kinetic barriers utilized a modified variant of the cyclonic barrier tech invented by Tali'Shepard, except enhanced to encapsulate an entire space station, with shields measured to be so powerful as to be capable of absorbing several nuclear strikes.

And it got better: Titan's defenses were close to impregnable. Its outer defenses would be equipped with the same M-306  _Hellfire_ -class anti-ship particle artillery that Omega had, except with twice the amount: Petrovsky had been given several prototypes to test on his station, and their devastating effectiveness had proven to the Illusive Man that they were a worthy expenditure: as such, he had ordered twenty be installed as part of Titan's primary defensive shield, although they would utilize a more well protected power source (having learnt an important lesson from the Omega debacle) and personal shields, as well as having better rotation to increase reaction time. Accompanying the M-306 ASPAs were to be a series of ship-to-ship missile units, mainly the  _Pilum_ -class missile pods and the Cerberus designed  _Achilles_ -class ballistic rocket systems. In terms of armor, the entire station would be encased in a triple layer of Silaris-A super armor, using a modular hull design that allowed destroyed plates to be easily replaced, even during battle.

Titan would also possess the best sensor and communication systems Cerberus had to offer, possessing a central comm buoy that, should all comm buoys in the area be destroyed, would be able to communicate at superluminal speeds, allowing it to reach as far as three clusters in distance. Its sensors alone could detect an incoming fleet from systems away, which would come in useful for detecting the telltale blip of heat a  _Normandy_ -class stealth frigate gave off when they activated their IES. Once Titan was completed, the eventual goal would be to move it into the galactic core: a place where not even the Reapers could reach it easily.

 _Ingenius. A final bastion, and the first._ Unfortunately though, the schedule for the station's construction was moving at a sluggish pace at best: barely half of the station's superstructure had been laid even with thousands of workers committed to the effort, and the Illusive Man had dedicated the entire Eighth Fleet just to protect it. If the war was going as well as he claimed, then Titan should have advanced far further into the schedule by now...to the point where interiors were being built. But that clearly wasn't the case. What was going on out there that Petrovsky was not aware of?

 _Perhaps it is a lie. More likely the war is not going as well as the Illusive Man would have me believe. Would have us all believe._ The Reapers were, after all, a nearly indomitable foe: their fleets numbered in the hundreds of thousands, each ship a fortress in and of itself, wielding firepower capable of decimating entire battlegroups by themselves. Their numbers darkened the skies of entire worlds, their armies of billions of husks swarming over in overwhelming hordes. Petrovsky had no delusions: a protracted war with such a foe was going to be impossible. There was simply no way to win a war with the Reapers conventionally, yet Petrovsky knew the Illusive Man must have had a plan for this eventuality. Cerberus had always been about thinking ahead, planning for the future and preparing for it ahead of time.

_So what's the plan? Holding Omega helps us only against the UGC, who you think would be our allies in this time. Instead, we fight them, and they fight us, all the while the Reapers wear us both down. This continued conflict between us is ridiculous...all those men and women of the UGC, dying at the hands of my soldiers...when it is they who I should be commanding. It should be Reaper troops I'm fighting, not my fellow organics._

It seemed like an unwinnable scenario in the end. Petrovsky had been given command of the greatest anti-Reaper task force in the galaxy...and yet only had access to a small portion of it. What was the rest of them doing? Why was his communication with them so limited? It appeared Cerberus' militarization was far from complete: there was a disorganization in the ranks, one that came with an organization run by a single figurehead trying to imitate the military precision of its Alliance counterpart. Cerberus may have militarized, but its organizational skills hadn't kept up.

_I cannot command an army if I'm not allowed to communicate with it, especially when the Illusive Man insists on intervening personally._

Sometimes he wished his mysterious leader would simply leave the military matters to him. That's what he recruited him for. He was a General, and the Illusive Man represented the more political side of the organization. This kind of behaviour was detrimental to Cerberus' cause, but he never dared mention that to the man himself. The Illusive Man's patience during these times was noticeably withering.

_The pressure is becoming too much. Something is eating away at him, it is plain to see. He does not even try to hide it. He tries to show strength, yet all I see is a continuing weakness that is tearing away at him, inside and out. He is going to break. Something needs to be done to save Cerberus before he drives it into the ground. I need my army._

But something could be done about that later. First, he needed to win this little war with Aria. A goal that, unlike everything else, didn't seem that far out of reach.

Taking a final inhale, he clasped his hands behind his back, pivoted in place and began to walk back inside, heading back for Operations to resume his supervision of his lieutenants. Hendricks and Nguyen wordlessly followed, the only indication of their vigil the sound of their boots tapping against the deck as they followed, the occassional creaking of their armor barely heard in the silent humming of the walls around them. The clicking of his own boots on the steel floor echoed loudly, signalling his approach to those waiting for him.

The walk back to Operations was a short one, requiring only a simple walk along a small, 61 meter long corridor: he frequented this corridor because he enjoyed the breath of fresh air that awaited him everytime on the balcony: a place where he could escape the streams of data, combat reports and static-filled communications between battlefield units. He needed a clear head to think, and it was when he was out on that balcony that the best strategies came to mind.

The lighting of the corridor was a dim hue, so entering Operations was an assault upon his senses, bright light and noise invading his sight and hearing the moment the door opened into the room. His eyes adjusted quickly as he moved across the upper catwalk, descending a pair of stairs, his guards hot on his heels, barely missing a beat, light reflecting off their abyssal-coloured armor. The room was a storm of activity: Cerberus personnel rushed about, clad in their ironed and straightened uniforms, both of the scientific and military divisions. He could see from a quick at the war room that only Colonels Farland and Wchest were present at their stations, with Amish and Colwood likely off performing other duties. The war table was deactivated, its blue glow absent from the room. A set of datapads were set out across its surface as Farland carefully read through them, while Wchest was loudly arguing with one of his subordinates over omni-tool, face red with anger. Laced around the perimeter of the room, largely on the very catwalk Petrovsky had descended from, were at least ten guards: eight assault troopers and two dragoons. Some were patrolling, while others stood guard, eyes scanning the room ponderously.

Completing his descent into the Operations center, the General approached his two colonels at the war table, ready to return to work. His approach, accompanied by the stand-outish forms of two black Shadow Force troopers following him, was enough to draw Wchest's attention, who uttered one final line to his subordinate before closing his omni-tool and snapping a salute.

Petrovsky spared him a brief salute in return, before nodding, "Colonel Wchest, I trust you aren't having trouble keeping your men in line."

The colonel shook his head, "Just a disagreement on resource allocation. He believes the distribution of D-09s to the perimeter has left a gap in our outer perimeter that the UGC could exploit. I just told him that such precautions are, in themselves, unnecessary: these defenses are only continegencies, after all."

"Indeed," the General replied, "But I believe you should heed his advice nonetheless, Colonel. Remember the Tuhi district."

Wchest's face drained as he nodded slowly, "Of...of course, general. Of course. We won't make that mistake again. I'll have nine D-09s redeployed to the outer perimeter."

"Good. And if the UGC don't attack, the Talons most definitely will," Petrovsky added ontop of his previous point, moving over to join Farland at the war table, who had now noticed his commander's arrival and turned from his work, arms crossed, "Kandros is likely to grow bolder now the UGC in play," he tapped a few times on the war table's display, watching it hum to life before him. Blue light licked at the sides of the table, bright blue particles coming to quickly form the streets of the Busamir district, near Aria's bunker. He turned to Farland, eyebrows raised, "Where is Colwood? I wish to speak to her about our skirmishes in the Busamir district."

Farland shrugged, hand smoothing over his hair, "She disappeared a few minutes ago. She said she was taking a shuttle to the front. Said she couldn't command attacks without physically being present."

The General sighed, slightly annoyed that his directive had been summarily ignored.  _Disorganization indeed._ Still, he could understand her logic: Colwood had always been of the old school pre-19th century military philosophy that a general should always lead from the front. Of course, there was a good reason why such a philosophy was rendered obsolete, due to the inherent importance of commanding officers and their finite existence: the higher you got up the command chain, the further from the front you got. Petrovsky remembered when he once commanded units into battle personally, and now he commanded them from the comfort of a holo table. As such, Colwood's decision was dangerous, but one he would let slide.

"Foolish of her, but understandable," Petrovsky stated, "If she does not return within the hour, I want you to order her to return: with my full authority."

Farland nodded, "Understood, sir. I'll pass it on."

"What about Amish? Anything from him?"

Wchest nodded, having turned and joined the three of them at the table, "He's outside. Had some requisitions to deal with. Send his men weren't being properly equipped. Confusion up the chain, he called it."

 _He's not wrong._ "Best make sure your own men are properly equipped too, Wchest. Same goes for you, Farland. We command the finest, most battle-hardened Ceberus corps in the entire organization. I will not have this army fall into disarray because of miscommunications, inadequate supplies and arrogant leadership. Keep them in line and get them what they need to do their job. I will accept nothing less than quality from you, gentlemen."

Both Wchest and Farland saluted simultaneously, "Understood sir, we'll get it done."

_I hope so. Unacceptable behaviour. If this was the Alliance, these men would have been demoted already. Unreliable conduct._

Before the General could so much as open his mouth to speak again, the noise in the room was drowned out by a much louder sound.

Klaxons blared across the chamber, loudly and screaming their alert to the room's occupants. Every one fell silent as they were draped in a dull red glow, strobe lights sending flurries of crimson dancing across the walls. The klaxons continued to howl just as loudly, every single person in the room having stopped what they were doing to listen to the alarms, shocked at the sound and what it could entail.

He waited a moment for someone to explain the situation, and he soon got what he mentally requested. Footsteps echoed down the stairs as one of his adjutants ran down the stairs, rushing up to him, snapping a salute as he practically slid to a halt, "General, sir! We have a problem."

The klaxons continued to screech as a testament to his statement of the obvious.

"Evidently, lieutenant," Petrovsky pointed out, taking note of the trooper's rank, "Are we under attack?"

"No, sir. Nothing on the UGC," the lieutenant replied, handing him a datapad as he stood rigid, as if afraid the slighest movement would offend his commanding officer, "We just got a ping from one of the sensor grids in the mining sector. The silent alarms near the main reactor were triggered."

That both surprised and amused Petrovsky. On the one hand, he hadn't expected such an action to occur so early into the war, but on the other, he had been fully prepared for such an eventuality. He had known that Aria would eventually resort to trying to disable the forcefields, and that information pertaining to that goal would bring them to the reactor in their attempt.

He had silent alarms and sensor grids established around the reactor to prepare for this very occurance. He knew that the forcefields were vital to the policing and keeping of order within Omega's streets, not to mention the tactical advantages they granted his troops in being able to move freely to where uprisings were occurring or enemy forces were gathering. Without them, defending Omega would be much more difficult, and the Talons likely would have won by now. Those forcefields were vital to the station's future, so he had put safeguards in place to make sure they remained active, which meant keeping an eye on their central power source: the best way to disable them.

Installing them hadn't been easy: after all, adjutants ruled the mining sector ever since its abandonment, and thus he had been forced to send a squad of Shadow Force units to place the sensors and rig the silent alarms so that they alerted New Order HQ the moment they detected a breach. The unit completed the mission without incident, as he knew they would: their success rate was unmatched by any other unit within Cerberus.

Because of this, it came as no surprise to him that the silent alarm had been triggered, only that it happened so soon.  _Shepard is quick. It is more than likely our skirmishes with the UGC in the Busamir district are just a distraction from his real goal: an attempt to keep us busy while he sneaks in and cripples our defense network from within. No matter._

He nodded, motioning to the vidscreen behind them on the wall, "Reroute camera feeds to the main viewscreen. I wan to see the intruders," he handed the datapad back as he turned to the viewscreen, his adjutant working at his omni-tool to bring up the camera footage, "And turn off those alarms."

Shortly after he gave the order, the klaxons stopped their grating tone and the red lighting dimmed and returned to normal, the strobe lights ceasing their dance. At that very moment, he watched as the first of the camera feeds showed up, this one from Camera B, near the central elevator shaft that led into the main reactor proper. The footage was sketchy, but there was no denying the forms of combatants riding an old, worn out elevator as it descended into the bowels of Omega's beating heart. He could make out Shepard, including the unmistakable dark blue form of Aria T'Loak. Surrounding them must have been the majority of Shepard's squad, with the tallest of them being a quite intimidating geth prime wielding an equally belligerent looking cannon of some sort.

The screen switched to Camera C as it followed their progress, audio silent as they watched Shepard giving out orders to his unit, motioning them forward. The quarian was at his side, the turian and the hooded human not far behind. An odd looking, triangle-headed alien he couldn't identify walked beside the towering geth prime, whilst several other human marines, one of them an N7, fell into the middle. Aria, alongside another asari and a humanoid-looking synthetic, moved forward on the left, brandishing their weapons in a sweeping pattern. However, who he found standing to the right was what caught him by surprise.

Nyreen Kandros.

He never would have thought Shepard would be foolish enough to bring along not just himself and Aria, but also the leader of the Talons: effectively endangering the three main leaders of their invasion force. Nyreen's willingness to follow Aria was also an unexpected development, given the obvious animosity between the two, and the disparity in their ideology. Although with the presence of Shepard likely acting as a mediator, perhaps it wasn't entirely incomprehensible. Still, this provided an opportunity of paramount significance: All three leaders, including Shepard's entire squad, alone and seperated from the rest of their army. Petrovsky found that perhaps his luck was getting even better.

"How close are they to the reactor?" Petrovsky queried, unclasping his hands as he crossed his arms, "Rough estimate."

"Best guess would place them nearest the secondary operations chamber," his adjutant replied sharply, omni-tool at hand to give him the information he needed, "Which is roughly...4, 500 meters from the reactor itself."

The General nodded, turning to his colonels behind him, "That is too close. Regardless, as surprising as this development may be, we've prepared for this. We knew they may try this eventually, now we need only prepare our response," he spoke to his adjutant once more, but did not look at him, simply turning to look back at the viewscreen as Camera C continued to show the squad's progress, now stooped by an argument appearing to brew between Nyreen and Aria...again, "The forcefield we put in place...is it ready?"

The lieutenant took a moment to search for the relevant information, eyes darting across the holographic interface wrapped around his arm. Finally, he gave a decisive nod, lowering his arm, "Yes, sir. Techs state that while not at full power, the forcefield can draw enough energy to last at least several hours before needing to recharge."

He nodded, deeming that sufficient, "That will suit my needs. When they enter the secondary operations chamber...spring the trap," he turned and focused his attention on Wchest, "How many RAMPARTs can you spare?"

Wchest took a moment to think, pondering the General's question, before providing his answer, "I can spare about a hundred, but that's all. The rest I need to defend the Apex."

"Send sixty down to the reactor chamber via the maintenance elevator," Petrovsky ordered, barely eying the viewscreen on the wall beside them, as if trying to look into Shepard's eyes themselves. It appeared the argument had calmed down now, with Shepard having stepped in and calmed them down. The squad was now proceeding ahead, straight into the gaping jaws of Cerberus' victory, entirely oblivious, "If Shepard doesn't see reason, then you have my permission to send them in. Ensure nobody survives, including Aria T'Loak, but only once I give the order."

Wchest nodded, bringing up his omni-tool, "I'll have them sent down immediately."

Nodding his affirmation, he turned his full attention back to the war table, tapping at its interface to bring up comms with Colonel Colwood and Amish. As soon as he was convinced a secure connection was established, he spoke, "This is General Petrovsky to forces currently engaged in the Busamir district. As of this moment, all forces currently preparing for Operation Invincible are to suspend all operations and prepare to pull out. I want the Greywolves company prepared for dust off in 10 and returned to New Order HQ for briefing."

"Understood," Colwood replied, straight and to the point.

"Pulling out?" Amish asked, the only one to question his orders, "Why? We have them!"

"I'm cancelling Operation Invincible," Petrovsky declared, "It appears Shepard has other plans. Amish, you will have your troops provide a support screen while Colwood's regiments withdraw. You are to engage the UGC only as long as it takes for Colwood to pull back, and then you will do the same."

There was an audible sigh over the line, followed by blind acceptance, "Yes sir. I'll inform the Greywolves of their new orders. Amish out."

"Was that really necessary sir?" Wchest asked after the line was cut, leaning over the table as he tried to gain Petrovsky's attention, "Shepard and his squad are being dealt with as we speak. We should press the attack, while we have the chance."

"We had the chance at Tuhi as well colonel, and we were soundly defeated. Amish will stand to remember that well," Petrovsky reminded Wchest, causing the colonel to visibly deflate, "Besides, our withdrawal is a feint. We want the UGC to believe that they've gained the upperhand. After our forces have retreated, I will have the forcefields deactivated in that area...letting them believe Shepard's plan was successful. And once they begin to advance...I will reactivate the forcefields."

"Cutting them off," Farland noted, picking up on Petrovsky's plan, "...from each other. Allowing us to deal with them piecemeal, instead as one force."

"And without Shepard, Aria or even Kandros, they'll fall apart," Wchest finished, a grin on his lips. The colonel turned to Petrovsky, suddenly far more confident now that he knew what his general was up to, standing up much straighter, "That's brilliant."

"Don't get too cocky, colonel," Petrovsky ordered, waving a hand, "Their pawns may fall into place, but we must worry about ours also. Still..." he imagined his chessboard, and the king on the enemy side that was now readily exposed, "...their king rests in a vulnerable position. Its time for a checkmate."

He watched the camera feed, which now switched Camera D...the secondary operations chamber: their destination. They wandered into the room, spreading out to search the room. Once they were sure they were in position, the squad proceeded into the center, believing they had found what they needed to complete their task; the key to their ultimate victory.

It was one Petrovsky had already denied them.

As the last squad member stepped over the threshold, the General wasted no time in giving the order.

"Activate the field."

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_1117 hours._

_Secondary Operations Chamber, Main Reactor, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Light Prophet._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Moses, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, General Nyreen Kandros, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak._

"-been a complete mess right from the very beginning!" Nyreen spat, hand arriving mere inches from Aria's face. Marcus thought she might hit the asari for her smug grin, the turian looking more and more infuriated by the pirate queen's calm carelessness with every passing second. She bristled with anger, so tense that she could snap. The squad gave her a wide berth, choosing not to get involved with the explosion of fury that was General Nyreen Kandros.

Its not like he hadn't expected this: ever since their narrow escape from the hands of an adjutant horde, there had been a brewing rage festering between the turian and the self-proclaimed ruler of the Terminus. She was visibly shaken, her encounter with her worst fears having set alight a fire inside her that she was determined to aim straight at Aria, who she viewed to be the source of her torment. After all, had Aria not entered the game to conquer Omega, Nyreen might not be down in the mining sector at all...hence not having to fight for her life against monsters made flesh. As it was, everybody could feel the atmosphere beginning to heat up between the two, and Marcus thought that she would finally explode in the silence of their elevator descent. Surprisingly, Nyreen had held back, even then.

Marcus had thought that perhaps Nyreen had calmed down, biting her tongue for the sake of the mission. Brief glimpses of her demeanour only cemented this belief, as she had stopped shaking as much, her position was more rigid and professional, and she seemed to have returned to her self-determined, empowered self.

Then Aria, as always, had to open her fucking mouth. All it had taken was one comment, one single spiteful comment, and all the defenses the turian had built, all the self-restraint, had collapsed. That rage festered once more, spreading like wildfire throughout her body: she was pissed off, had a chip on her shoulder, and Aria had finally knocked aside the few remaining bricks to peek inside.

_"So Nyreen, tell me, when your squad was ripped apart...did they scream, or did they simply freeze in fear? I can certainly see where you got your cowardice from."_

He had no idea what possessed her to make such a comment. It was almost as if Aria was  _looking_ for a reaction at this point. A high school bully who wanted to see the weird kid get all flustered and annoyed simply to humiliate him.

But Nyreen wasn't some high school weird kid. She was the general of a resistance group, and she had finally had enough.

Aria just laughed, swatting aside Nyreen's accusatory hand with one hand as easily as if she was swatting an annoying fly out of the air, "Oh, save me the melodramatics,  _dear_. You and I both know this is a hell of our dual making."

Nyreen flared, and for a moment, Marcus thought she might summon her biotics. Thankfully for them all, she did not, her eyes doing all the talking as she let all her hatred for the woman before her be encased in her steely gaze, " _Fuck_ you. You hateful, unredeeming, self-absorbed  _bitch_. You just couldn't roll over! And now we're stuck down here! We almost  _died_ because of this stupid plan!"

Aria showed no sign of backing down, her grin only widening, no doubt prodding at Nyreen's last iota of restraint...if that broke, Marcus wasn't sure he could stop the ensuing fight, "Yes, emphasis on the  _almost_ , Nyreen. We  _almost_ died. And I think you misremember: it was Shepard and his brain trust that came up with this plan. I simply endorsed it."

The turian didn't seem at all deterred by the fact, one that even Marcus had to admit was true. Her anger was directed solely at her nemesis, and she wasn't going to allow Aria to deflect the blame, no matter the truth behind it, "Do you  _ever_ take responsibility for  _anything_!? Aria T'Loak can never do any wrong, is that right!? Is that what you would have your followers believe? That you're  _infallible_? I'm sorry Aria, but you  _lost_ this station in the first place. Petrovsky  _outsmarted_ you. You should have stayed on the Citadel. Nobody wants you here."

"On the contrary," Aria returned, taking as much as she got, "Omega wants me."

Despite her anger, that gave Nyreen something to laugh at, the turian turning around to stop herself from hitting the asari, "If you honestly believe that...I'm lost for words, Aria. I knew you were pathetic, but this really does solidify my picture of you. You think Omega will just magically let you take the reins again, is that it? Is that how you picture yourself? Rising the golden steps to your throne at Afterlife, Petrovsky dead at your feet?"

Aria just shrugged, crossing her arms, "Golden? Now there's an idea. As for Petrovsky, I was picturing his head as an ornament. I might even get it taxidermied...you know, for aesthetics. I do love my trophies, and I'll need one to replace Patriarch."

Nyreen turned around, squinting her eyes in disgust, repulsed by the person before her, "You really make me sick, Aria. Taxidermied heads? What did I ever see in you?" she backed away, momentarily shocked, "You're just a monster. I almost  _wish_ I was fighting for Petrovsky."

The asari's grin died slightly, worrying Marcus. He saw a hint of anger in her eyes, "Careful, Nyreen. I heard a wiff of treason there."

Nyreen shook her head, waving a dismissive hand, "Oh, don't be so naive. I was never loyal to you: I'm using you to do what's best for Omega. This alliance of ours, its of  _convenience._ If I genuinely thought Cerberus was what was best for Omega, I would switch sides in a  _heartbeat_. Luckily for you, Cerberus  _isn't_ what's best for Omega," she fixed Aria with a look of befuddlement, now genuinely confused, "Did you really think this would be like old times? Where I would follow your lead?"

Aria slowly shook her head, her stare now venomous, amusement all but melting from her face, "Oh no, Nyreen, we're clearly far past that. No...you've fallen much farther than I had anticipated."

Nyreen was incredulous, approaching Aria slowly but with purpose, "I'm sorry... _I've_ fallen? Who's the one talking about taxidermied heads? About golden steps? About a fucking  _throne_?" the turian then laughed, seemingly out of nowhere, as if some small amusement had suddenly come to mind, "Of course, how silly of me. How could I be surprised? You haven't fallen. You've always been scraping the bottom of the barrel, Aria. You're an  _animal_. You can only go so far with fear."

As the argument played out before them, Marcus turned to Tali, who was already looking at him. He saw her look, even behind the visor: one eye wider than the other, indicating a raised eyebrow. Her head was cocked to one side, before she motioned it towards the arguing pair. What she was asking was clear.

_Do something about this._

Marcus sighed, turning to walk towards them as requested, knowing that this argument was now significantly dragging down their progress. Even with the adjutants off their trail, time was of the essence, and they were wasting it. It was a good thing he chose to interrupt at this moment then: Aria had stepped forward now, her smug indifference replaced with a growing rage, and he had no doubt that biotic fisticuffs would soon be exchanged if he didn't step in now.

_Idiots. Both of them. Can't put aside their damn differences just for the mission._

"-pathetic, Nyreen!" Aria snapped, shoving the turian, who barely moved due to her armor absorbing the meek blow, despite the aggressiveness behind it, "You freeze up whenever an adjutant appears! You shrivel up whenever a civilian is in danger! So busy playing white knight! How about you grow up, Nyreen? This is how the real world works!"

"If I have to change the real world, then  _so be it_ ," the turian snapped, face now inches from Aria as she let out a low, animalistic growl, "I dare you to try and  _stop me_. I don't think Sata will let you. She respects me more as a parent than she ever respected you. She  _hates_ the very sight of you. Your own daughter thinks you are a  _piece of shit_. Tell me, how does that feel?"

"Shut the  _fuck up_ ," Aria spat, spittle erupting from her lips, "One more word from your mouth, and I'll make you regret it."

"Is this the loyalty you command, Aria?" Nyreen mocked, dangerously batting around the lion's den. Marcus increased his approach, almost entering a jog, "Threaten anyone who questions you? I'm disappointed. No wonder Sata  _despises_  you."

He saw Aria crack. He saw the biotic fist that had been building up this entire time, biotic glow flowing around her hand. Teeth gritted and a snarl hissing through her lips, she raised the fist, prepared to descend upon the turian with all the fury she could muster. Nyreen hadn't even bothered trying to defend herself...almost as if she was unaware that Aria would be so audacious as to strike her in anger. Or...

...she wanted to prove a point.

Marcus' arm lashed out, hand clenching around Aria's wrist just before it completed its swing. Her punch halted mid air as her gaze whipped to face him, glaring daggers at him through his visor. He glared back carelessly, letting her know that he couldn't give any less of a shit about her anger towards him. He held firm, refusing to let go of her arm until she agreed to withdraw. In the seconds it took for Aria to back down, the look on Nyreen's face was telling.

Entirely impassive. She wasn't in shock, she wasn't even glaring at her. She simply looked...exasperated. She had made no snap movement to defend herself, she simply stared back at the asari, as if trying to look through her. As if she was transparent.

It was the look of disappointment.

Aria finally tried pulling back, and he let her, letting go of her wrist. He must have grabbed it harder than he thought, as there was visible bruising along the underside of her wrist that showed up as darker, bluish tinges along her skin. She ignored it, stepping back in anger, but making no further hostile movements towards the general.

"I've had it up to  _here_..." he raised a hand in the air for emphasis, "...with this  _spat_ between you. Now, I don't give a fuck about whatever differences you've had in the past. I simply don't care. The mission is what is important to me, and we've wasted precious time because you two seem  _incapable_ of maturing enough to complete it."

The two women said nothing, simply glaring at each other. He stepped between them, breaking their line of sight, as he turned to Aria, pointing an accusing finger, " _You_  have got to  _grow the fuck up._  You have been constantly antagonizing Nyreen ever since this mission began, and I'm sick of it. You're like a  _child_. If you want this station to be yours after this war is over, I suggest you do some soul searching  _fast_ , because I'm seriously considering just nuking this stupid fucking asteroid."

Aria's glare dissipated at that, but only a little. She had heard this threat before from him, and she knew better than to argue with him. She had long found out that when he made a threat, he kept it: he was by no means bluffing. He now turned to Nyreen, sparing her no expense with his own barrage, "And I expect better of you, Nyreen. You're constantly letting Aria get to you, and its compromising the mission. I get that adjutants terrify you, but you know what? The Reapers terrify  _me._ You don't see me freezing in fear every time one shows up. You need to conquer that fear, because there is no room on this mission for those who can't do their job."

Nyreen gulped, shaking her head, "You have no id-"

"Don't give me the speech about damn loss. I've lost more than you could possibly imagine," Marcus snapped, practically barking at her in anger, "I've lost too many friends to this damn war to even begin counting. Jacob. Mordin. Thane. Legion. All of them I considered to be friends, and every single one of them dead. I've watched good soldiers under my command die. I had to flee my own damn homeworld as I watched the Reapers slaughtering people in the streets. I've watched worlds burn, I've stayed up late at night reading reports upon reports upon reports of casualties," his gaze softened, but only slightly, not allowing the steel in his voice to dissipate, "We've all suffered, we've all lost things we care about, and we've all seen horrible shit. But that doesn't mean we get to just...cower. Hide. Run away. Because as much as we all have nightmares, there are those whose duty is to fight those nightmares. To kill them. That's our job: we kill nightmares. We're just the lucky ones who are equipped with that ability. So will you kill your nightmares Nyreen, or continue to run away? Because that's what Omega really needs. Someone to fight the nightmares that they never could."

Nyreen was lost for words. She simply stared back at Marcus, not in anger, not in sadness, not in shock...but she was entirely speechless. Backing down, Marcus looked between them, backing away, "The two of you are going to have make a choice. I don't care whether you both reconcile or not. Your relationship doesn't concern me. What does concern me is your ability to work together to beat Petrovsky. Can you do that? Even if its just for one day? Maybe even a week?"

Aria moved to speak, but he held up one hand to silence her, unholstering his rifle in the process, which he had let hang limply at his side, magnetized to his right thigh, "I don't need an answer, but you two do. Make a decision amongst yourselves. Make a decision to set aside whatever differences you may have for the greater good. Because no matter what hatred you have for each other, you can both agree on one thing: Omega."

Aria and Nyreen looked at each other, ever silent, but said nothing. He turned around, motioning forward as his team got the message and began to form up without a word. Tali was at this side in an instant, Garrus and Kasumi not far behind. He felt her presence beside him, and turned on instinct, seeing her smile at him behind her visor. He smiled back, briefly gripping her shoulder in reassurance before he dropped his smile, returning to full Shepard mode, "Okay, move out, stay frosty. I don't want any more surprises. No more adjutants sneaking up on us. If there are any here, I want to know about it ahead of time. Advance."

His speech must have worked: Nyreen and Aria were deathly silent, almost unnervingly so. They kept distance between other: Nyreen to the far left, Aria on the far right. Neither seemed assured of their 'victory' in the argument however, both of them sullen and not very talkative. His guess is that any verbal agreement to end hostilities between them was not on the cards yet, but their more subtle agreement had been enough for now. He was just glad that they weren't shouting at each other anymore. The last thing he needed right now was noise.

Despite this sector being powered down, the area surrounding the central reactor's operations was lit by emergency lighting, a dull crimson haze barely illuminating the walls, but doing just enough to give them a clear view of where they needed to go. He could read the lettering on the walls enough to get a general sense of their direction now: one wall, in white krogan lettering, said 'secondary operations chamber' with what looked to be an arrow pointing further down the corridor. He knew it said this because the krogan lettering had faded and worn out, black lettering, this being in the more easily translatable turian language, having been crudely painted over the top of it. Likely a relic from Tanculus' reign just over a thousand years ago.

The corridor itself seemed to stretch on forever, but in actuality, the secondary operations chamber was less than 300 meters ahead of them. The hall itself was lined with inactive piping and maintenance terminals, their surfaces plainly glowing in the red light, but otherwise remaining silent in their abandonment. It was an entirely unremarkable area: were it not for Nyreen and Aria's guidance, they likely would have gotten lost in this maze of corridors, unable to distinguish one from the other.

They managed to close the distance quite quickly, in fact. At their pace, they had crossed the first 100 meters in less than a minute, the squad not exactly jogging, but hardly out for a stroll either. Aria and Nyreen remained quiet for the rest of the trip, only speaking up with the ocassional grunt of acknowledgement when asked a question or when giving directions. It was clear that both of them were deep in thought, complimenting what Marcus had said to them. That was good.

 _I hope they stew real hard on it. Their bickering has done nothing but hinder our cause. I need them focused and fighting Petrovsky, not each other._ To think these two women, not even a day ago, had worked together to save Marcus' life, and now he had argued them into oblivion due to them about to imminently try and kill each other. It was utterly ridiculous. It wasn't like he didn't understand their points: he agreed with Nyreen that Aria was a criminal without a single likeable bone in her body, but he also knew that he needed Aria to hold onto Omega for the war effort. But he couldn't let his sympathy for their plights get in the way of the mission. His loyalty was to the galaxy at large, not to the Talons, nor Aria's mercenary band.

After a few more minutes of walking, the squad exited the corridor and arrived in the secondary operations chamber. He immediately ordered his squad to spread out, covering the entirety of the circular room, weapons scanning for hostile elements, wherever they may have lurked.

The first thing he noticed was the cavernous complex that rose around them, stretching out for what must have been kilometers. The chamber wasn't shielded by a ceiling, giving them an unfiltered, unobstructed view of the numerous cooling rods above them. Electricity snapped and crackled along their blue lines, the rods surging with coolant as they pumped into the reactor, keeping enough of a mix to ensure a meltdown did not occur. Only one of the cooling rods was visible from where they were, passing directly over them, but the sound of electric snaps was enough to draw attention to it, the sounds loud and thunderous.

The chamber itself was circular in shape, and at least 20 meters in width. Numerous deactivated consoles circled around the middle, the energy sapped from them to power the force fields. Marcus knew that past here would be the central control center, and from there, they would siphon all the power from the forcefields, disabling them. It was here that would prove the damnation of Petrovsky's operation. From here...the Cerberus regime would be brought to its knees.

Having fully spread out, the squad had secured the chamber, confident that no adjutants or Cerberus soldiers were present. Those in the middle lowered their weapons, whilst some stayed on the outer edge to make sure they weren't snuck up on or ambushed. Aria must have had a burst of pride surge through her at seeing her goal across the gangway, because her steps seemed to increase in vigour, the pirate queen heading straight to the middle of the chamber. She was grinning from ear to ear, her previous thoughts discarded.

Nyreen took note of this, but didn't react as harshly as he thought she would, "Why are you grinning, Aria?"

Aria didn't turn to the turian, but simply kept grinning, shotgun holstered as she held up her arms in a wide arc, reminding Marcus all too much of her introduction to him in Afterlife a year go, "We're almost there. When those forcefields come down...this war finally  _begins_."

Nyreen snorted, having pulled out her SMG, "For some of us, this war began seven months ago."

Aria just chuckled, shaking her head, "Ah, babe, that wasn't war. That was just warm-up."

Marcus decided to step in, before Nyreen could make a snappy comment that could anger Aria again. He was at least somewhat relieved to see their exchange hadn't been as aggressive, the two simply exchanging passive-aggressive banter at best, "Okay, let's cut to the chase. The primary operations center shouldn't be far now. Everybody, fall in."

They did so, the squad moving to join Marcus and Aria as they prepared to push on. Aria was just reaching the stairs while Javik followed up the rear, his rifle finished scanning the area behind them as he moved to join them.

Then, suddenly, their world was enveloped in orange light.

Aria stopped in her tracks the moment the bright field lit up, blocking her path. The asari had stopped mere inches from touching it, the pirate queen now backing up slightly, as her eyes locked up and down the field, finding that it stretched up at least ten meters, ensuring they could not surmount it. The triumphant grin fell from her lips, "What the fuck?"

Marcus, fearing the worst, slowly lowered his rifle and turned in a full semi-circle, confirming his worst fears. They were entirely surrounded by the field, which wrapped around the entire circumference of the operations chamber, reaching from the deck into the air as far as it could muster. The field hissed and popped as superheated hardlight was focused into long, winding sheet. His squad looked just as shocked, but that shock quickly turned into a dread realization, with Marcus' heart missing a few beats.

It was a force field.

_Why the hell would they have a force field down here? And what triggered it? We must have tripped an alert system when we crossed the threshold, but if that's the case, why did it wait until we were all ins-_

_It waited until they were all inside._

Marcus' teeth clenched, uttering the name of the one person he knew was responsible, "Petrovsky."

" _ **No!**_ " Aria snapped, tearing out her shotgun as she quickly unloaded a shell into the field. The plasma sheet did not yield, consuming the fragmented shell as it impacted the field, vaporizing it upon impact with barely a ripple. That didn't deter the asari, who emptied two more shells before giving up, each one touching the field and disappearing instantly, leaving no visible damage of any kind. She snarled, but did not dare hit it out of anger, having seen the consequences of what happened when organic matter came into contact with it. She did not wish to become a pile of ash.

Nothing happened for the next few minutes, the only sound being Aria's frantic, curse-filled speech, the electric thunder of the cooling rod above, and the crackling cackles of the field that had so easily entrapped them. Marcus knew this had been a trap: it was too perfect, too well timed. He knew for certain Petrovsky was behind it. What he wanted to know was  _how_. How did Petrovsky know about their operation? And how did he manage to set up a forcefield so quickly? The only possible answer to the latter is that he hadn't set it up in response, but as a contingency: which suggested the Cerberus general had prepared for this.

_He's truly covered all bases. He must have predicted we'd try this._

Five more minutes passed before the group heard a dull clang. They snapped around to see that somekind of spherical object had fallen from the air to land at their feet. At first the N7 had thought it was a grenade, but after checking its appearance, and the fact that a few seconds had passed after it was supposed to have detonated, he concluded this wasn't the case. Instead, the sphere was quickly wrapped in cobalt, grid-like illumination, and it suddenly shot up into the air, as if picked up by some invisible opponent. It hovered in the air, and in that moment, Marcus knew what it was: a portable QEC transmitter. Cerberus must have dropped it from above.

The sphere's generators spun to life, blue particles shooting out in the thousands as they quickly snapped back into the form of a familiar Cerberus commander. Black beard, crisp white and gold uniform, rigid posture and parade rest.

Petrovsky wasted no time in addressing Marcus, no hint of a smile on the general's features. Even in his apparent victory, having successful lured his enemy into a trap of his making, the general took no pleasure in it. He wasn't smug. It was one of the things Marcus found himself respecting in the man, "I commend you, Shepard. Your plan of attack was impeccable, even if it was for nothing."

Aria roared, having heard Petrovsky's voice. Marcus turned to watch as she fired at the hologram, only for her shell to pass harmlessly through the field emitter, the particles temporarily disturbed and distorting his torso, before forming back together, almost like a swarm of angry bees. Petrovsky looked indifferent, "Come now, Aria. I'm not actually there."

"Maybe you should be, you piece of shit," Aria snapped, storming up the hologram as she lowered her shotgun, realizing how futile her attempts to kill the general would be, "Stop hiding and face me. Or are all human generals such cowards?"

Petrovsky shook his head, "How puerile of you. I'm not stupid, Aria. I know you could kill me in hand-to-hand combat if you so wished. My skill doesn't lie with my combat skills, however," he turned to Marcus, noting the N7's much more somber look, "Don't look so shocked, captain. As one tactician to another, you must appreciate how obvious my decision had to have been. I knew the reactor would be the hard target should any invading force make an attack. I gave you no choice but to take this route."

He winced, realizing the general was right. He should have known better.  _They told me not to underestimate him, and here I am, paying for that very mistake. How the fuck could I have possibly thought I'd outsmarted him? This guy seems to know my moves before I make them._ Feeling calmer than Aria was at the moment, he stepped infront of the asari, blocking her view of the General, "I have to admit, Petrovsky, this was clever. I honestly thought we'd won."

The human commander turned away from Marcus, looking up at the cooling rod as if he was actually there, "A great victory is when you have the enemy believe they've won. That's when they're at their most vulnerable."

"Sun Tzu," Marcus uttered.

"Correct," Petrovsky replied, the barest hint of a smile on his lips, "You know, you may have made a good general yourself, captain. Unfortunate you've chosen to ally yourself with Aria. A tactical error on your part. She always was a bad apple."

"I will fucking  _gut_ you, Petrovsky," the asari in question barked, now pacing along the circumference of the field as she walked in circles, desperately looking for a weakness that didn't exist, "When I get out of here, and we bring those forcefields down, you're finished! I promise you that!"

The general sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to face the aimless pirate queen, "Unfortunately for you, I've made sure that won't be happening today. You're trapped, all of you. This field won't go down unless I say so, and with you all trapped inside, I would think a surrender was in order."

" _S-surrender!?_ " Aria roared, sending a biotic fist flying into an inactive console, smashing it in an explosion of sparks and broken circuits, "I will never fucking surrender! Its not over until your next of kin can't  _identify_ you!"

"I love your bravado, I really do," Petrovsky admitted, "It reminds me of my comrades back in the Russian military, full of life and unquenchable spirit. But one day, you must have the good sense to know when you're beaten. Today is that day, Aria."

"No..."

"Its over."

"...no...!"

"You cannot win. I have all the pieces in my court. If I so will it, I can simply leave you down there to rot."

"NO!" Aria snapped, glaring at Petrovsky, "A hundred times, NO! I will not just roll over and surrender! Not when I'm so fucking close to choking the life out of you!"

There was a look of anguish on Petrovsky's face, like the general regretted what he had to do. Marcus could only watch as Aria mentally broke down in front of them, lashing out with her fists at an enemy that wasn't there, enraged at the idea that she may have finally been defeated. Even Nyreen looked forlornly at the asari, as if understanding her frustration, and sympathsizing with it. Perhaps in that moment, the two women had finally found something to agree on.

He could see Tali was on her omni-tool, coordinating with EDI and Moses to find a way to breach the forcefield's firewall so that they could bring it down. After a few moments, Tali sighed, deactivating her omni-tool. She looked to EDI and Moses, with the former shaking her head while Moses tried its best to mimmick the response. The quarian turned to Marcus.

She shook her head.

He felt like he'd been shot. When even his brilliant quarian engineer couldn't crack something...

He turned to Petrovsky, refusing to allow despair to cross into his gaze, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Petrovsky, but we're not surrendering," This surprised none of his squad, who had expected such a reaction. He felt Tali's presence at his side, her shotgun at the ready. He didn't need to look at her to know she would have his back no matter what, even if they ended up dying down here, "This isn't over. You may think you've won, but I can promise you, this isn't over yet. This war will not end with me. Even if we die down here, my men will keep on fighting."

The general nodded, "I understand. You've made your choice, and I respect it. However, I believe it to be a disservice to allow you to die by starvation. The Great Commander Shepard, killed by a lack of food and drink? I think not. No, you deserve to go out like a warrior," the general continued. This surprised Marcus, but only served to heighten his thoughts on the man. Despite Shepard being his enemy, he highly respected him, enough that he was willing to allow him a warrior's death, even in his refusal to surrender, "You will die here Shepard, have no illusions. But at least you shall die fighting."

He gripped his rifle tighter, nodding to his squad, who all nodded back, "Do what you must, Petrovsky. Send what you must. I held against 10,000 batarians on Elysium. With a squad at my back, perhaps I can finish off your army."

Petrovsky was momentarily stunned. Then that damn ghost of a smile again, "If any man could do it, it would be you, Shepard. It has been an honor to call you my foe," he turned to a man behind him that was just out of sight, nodding as he gave them his orders, "Send in the RAMPARTs, Colonel Wchest. All of them...yes, I mean every single one of them." He then turned back to Marcus, but before he could utter another word, Aria had stepped in, shoving the N7 aside as she bristled with desperation and fury mixed into one.

"That is the most pathetic fucking thing I've ever  _heard_ ," she glared daggers at the man, her fists beginning to glow with radiant dark energy.

"Mutual respect between warriors has always been seeded in human history, Aria," Petrovsky plainly stated, showing nothing but a brusque disregard for what she had to say, "Its not something I expect you to understand. My only regret is that it had to come to this."

Marcus bit his lower lip, shrugging, "And its a pity you had to be on the Illusive Man's side. We could have used someone with your brains in the UGC."

To his surprise, unlike the last time he had made such a statement, Petrovsky seemed to falter, as if reconsidering Marcus' proposal. Instead, he simply nodded forlornly, "Unfortunately, our fates did not align. Goodbye captain," he turned to Aria one last time, "And to you, Aria. And you too, Kandros. May you have the fight that you yearn for." Petrovsky's holographic form then evaporated as he began to walk away, the particles receding until there were none left, the sphere's blue light dimming to nothing. It then shot up into the air, enveloped by the darkness above, as if summoned back by its Cerberus handler. Just like that, Petrovsky was no longer with them.

After a few moments of stewing in their supposed defeat, Aria whirled on him, and taken completely by surprise, Marcus was unable to do anything when he felt her fist connect with his helmet, the force of the blow no doubt brusing her own knuckles, but causing his head to snap back regardless, dazed from the strike that he hadn't seen coming. She certainly gave it her all that's for sure: the blow had been enough that his jaw now ached, pulsing angrily. It was only due to his helmet that he did not rub the affected area.

Almost upon instinct, Aria felt herself unable to begin her rant as she felt a foot connect with her solar plexus, sending her reeling back as the air exploded from her lungs. Tali stepped forward after her counterattack, glaring angrily at the asari. Quarians had fierce kicks, females in particular, and the kick itself had landed firmly on Aria's chest, which left her whoozing and gasping for air, although there was no sympathy for her to garner upon.

She stepped up, fury still in her eyes even as Marcus stood up to meet her, the N7 ignoring Tali's attempts to check on him as he fixed his gaze firmly on her.

"I thought you were a bigger man than that, Shepard!" Aria hissed through her pain, still having not fully recovered from Tali's powerful kick, her voice raspy as it drew upon air, "Watching you give up like that...was  _disgusting_. Absolutely  _pitiful_. I've never seen such a sad thing in my life!"

After a second or so, he shook his head, raising his rifle as he steadied it against his shoulder, "Who said anything about giving up?"

To her credit, Aria didn't let her shock show visually, but he could tell from her change in tone that she hadn't expected that, "But you...what...I'm sorry, what the fuck do you mean by that shit? I saw you lap up Petrovsky's words like a dog."

He shrugged flippantly, turning to address the forcefield that was blocking their passage, just transparent enough to tease them with a view of their objective, whilst keeping it just out of their reach, "I needed Petrovsky to think we'd been defeated. I needed him to believe we had been sapped, and I needed him to see how angry you were. Now he's left thinking he's won and that our deaths are imminent. He has no idea that we plan on living."

James spoke up next, raising one eyebrow, "So, loco...do we actually have a plan for getting out of here? In case you hadn't noticed, we're surrounded by a giant friggin' forcefield."

And that's when Marcus' triumphant moment came to a standstill.  _Right...of course. That little hurdle._

"That's the part where a little brainstorming comes in," he stated, "I needed Petrovsky off our backs, but I didn't actually have time to think of a plan. So...I'm open to ideas."

"Well, we better think fast," Kaidan piped up, "Because from what the General said, we're about to have a whole army of RAMPARTs descending on us soon enough."

Marcus looked around the room at everyone present, eyes meeting each of theirs as he sought solutions. So far though, everyone seemed to be deep in thought, trying to formulate their own plans of escape. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to yield any fruit, and he could hardly blame them. After all, they were surrounded by a force field, with the only way to escape its clutches being on the  _other side_ of it. Suffice to say, they were running a little low on brainstormed ideas on that front.

He found himself analyzing the field ever so slightly, scrutinizing it for even the tiniest weakness in its structure. He ruled out locating the emitters and destroying them: it was obvious that the person who designed it had been smart enough to keep this in mind, thus building the emitters so that they would appear on the opposite side from what they were keeping in: and if it was meant to be a two-way field, like the ones in operation all over Omega, then the emitters would be built into the terrain itself. As was the case for them, this field was built to keep them  _in_ , and thus the emitters were on the outside...out of reach. So he quickly ruled that out.

They certainly couldn't scale it: he had seen what had come from even touching the field, having witnessed krogan soldiers incinerated at the point of contact. He expected nothing less from reverse-engineered Collector technology, especially when Cerberus was using it. The only other option was to attempt to jump over it or find the highest point of the room and try and circumvent it. Garrus seemed to be the most obvious candidate, given his variant of the Terminus armor had a built-in medium-burst thruster pack. Unfortunately, even his pack didn't have enough thrust to get over the field, and there were no high points to speak of, with the tallest object being a meter tall console.

That left them one option: break the field, or disrupt it long enough to open a hole. Again, that was impossible, as the UGC had tested such measures. The field's energy was so potent and powerful that the sheet was practically forming hardlight: a nearly impenetrable substance. Not even a Reaper's thanix cannon was going to breach this field. Even if he had remembered to bring his cumbersome M-920 Cain, he doubted detonating a low yield, one ton nuclear warhead in such a confined space was a good idea (especially considering the explosive blast of such a warhead was enough to level an entire street of buildings, so firing point blank in an area less than the size of a house was an even worse idea).

Three options, none of them feasible.

"We can't jump over it, we can't break through it and we can't destroy it," Marcus announced, having finished his analysis in less than a minute, turning back to his squad, "I certainly hope you guys have some ideas, because I'm all out."

"Captain!" Javik shouted, rifle snapping up as he assumed a combat posture, taking a knee behind one of the consoles as he waved a hand in the direction of the area they had come from, having been trained in several Alliance military hand signals by Marcus, "Twenty enemy mechs, closing from the rear!"

Sure enough, the squad turned and saw what Javik had signalled at. Advancing in columns of two, with ten per column, RAMPART mechs stalked forward, wielding M-22 Eviscerator shotungs in their hands, four red optics glowing seemingly with fury. Their glistening red and black armor flashed brilliantly in the glow of the field they were approaching, likely to be intensified once they activated their holographic tech armor. They emitted high-pitched electronic howls, their built-in function designed to instill fear into their enemies: a psychological warfare tactic. Had they been basic militia grunts, it might have worked. The mechs continued their approach towards the plasma sheet, not halting their advance. It was then that Marcus remembered that the RAMPARTs, being designed as Omega's law enforcement and crowd control rapid response units, had specifically designed armor with heat resistant plating, also reverse-engineered from Collector tech. This meant that the RAMPARTs could literally walk right through the field, with no adverse effects.

"It looks like we're out of time!" Garrus barked, sprinting over to the nearest available cover as he lowered his sniper rifle ontop of the edge of his cover, bracing it against his shoulder. Moses stood in the middle, deploying his  _Stalker_ -class combat drone and his  _Sapper_ -class sentry gun before holstering his Spitfire and readying his Type-55 Minotaur pulse cannon: the mainstay of the geth prime.

"Mark?" Tali asked, bringing his attention to her, "What are your orders?"

He nodded, readying his rifle as he lifted it and held it upwards, "Garrus has the right idea. Everybody take defensive positions and get ready to hold this area. How are we doing for ammo?"

Garrus did a quick check of his chest, mandibles falling slightly, "I...not much, Marcus. I've only got about six to eight clips left."

Tali checked herself, "I've only got...ten."

"Ten over here, Loco," James replied.

"Fifteen, but I can make them last," Keeling announced, taking position next to Javik.

Finally, Marcus checked his own ammo, finding he himself only had six clips left. In other words, they were now trapped with nowhere to go, had an army of RAMPART mechs surrounding them, and were dangerously low on ammo. The situation could not possibly get any worse at this point, he was sure of it. All they needed now was for the adjutant horde to break through and their deaths would be complete...

He went prone, lowering his jaw so it was planted firmly against the cold exterior of his pulse rifle. Tali dove into cover beside Kasumi, summoning Chiktika and watching as her combat drone hovered in position next to her head, chirping in electronic tones.

"We're in a bad position, low on ammunition, and we can't retreat," Marcus declared, "No matter, we hold this position. Moses, you've got the center. Garrus, watch right. Keeling, watch left. Don't let any enemy breach that perimeter, understood?"

"Understood!" shouted his entire squad in unison.

Nyreen was crouched next to a discarded crate, the object looking rusted and hardly trustworthy as cover, but the turian had little choice given their already limited options. In the end, Aria, aside from Moses, was the only one left standing in the open, the asari looking vexxed as she simply stared incredulously at the captain.

"That's it?" the asari grunted, waving her arms around exasperatingly, "All that talk about not 'giving up', and here you are, giving up."

He had no time for her semantics. He didn't need her to emphasize how fucked they were, he could tell that for himself, "Look around you, Aria. There's nowhere to go. I've entertained every possible solution I can think of to get out of here, and one of them will work. So unless you're willing to be shot dead while looking like a deer caught in headlights, I'd recommend finding some cover."

The first RAMPART mech drifted through the sheet, ripples erupting across the sheet as it licked at the mech's armor, harmlessly peeling away from the robot's presence. Having successfully parted the shield, the mech began to increase its pace from 'marching' to 'running', but Marcus didn't give it a chance. He opened fire, tapping his trigger, and watched as a pulse rifle burst slammed into its head, breaking the glass casing of its optics and blowing circuits out through the back of its ruptured head. He fired another burst, this one right down the center of its shotgun, causing the weapon to explode violently in its hands, raining bits of destroyed gun casing everywhere and leaving the mech defenseless. One final burst tore through its head again, causing it to simply fall back, hitting the ground with a thud as sparks continued to spew from its mangled head.

The second RAMPART mech was met with much the same fate, Garrus' sniper rifle coughing off one, high velocity round. Being a much more powerful weapon, this round blew the mech's head clean off, causing the mech to stutter for a few moments as it aimlessly spun around, now without guidance or the ability to see. Moses put it down moments later, a single volley from its Minotaur destroying its upper torso, leaving its legs to collapse to the ground in a heap of twisted metal and machinery.

The other RAMPARTs caught on quickly, and did not enter the field in single file. They spread out, surrounding the field from all sides, before closing in. They activated their tech armor at the same time, giving them an added layer of protection as they proceeded to step through the field all at once: six mechs on the left, another six on the right, and the last six up front. Marcus wasted no time in opening fire.

" _ **Fire at will**_!" Marcus snapped, finger clamping down on the trigger for his rifle as he let loose with everything he had, his squad following suit. The staccato beat of assault rifles, shotguns, pistols and SMGs boomed across the room as they fired at whatever RAMPART mech fell into their crosshairs. Tracers shot across the field, slamming into their targets with varying degrees of precision. Marcus was switching between targets rapidly, never stopping to ensure one mech was down before he turned to focus on the other, determined to do as much damage as possible to all their aggressors.

He hadn't failed to notice that Aria was still doing nothing, electing to remain at the back whilst she watched the battle take place. Nyreen, on the other hand, was busy picking up a RAMPART with her biotics, tossing it back through the field whilst emptying an entire clip of her SMG into another mech. The tech armor on it absorbed the entire magazine, but fizzled out of existence the moment she finished, allowing the turian to whip out her pistol and finish the job with four shots straight into its optics. She quickly whipped up a small biotic field to deflect a shotgun blast from a third mech, only for a second shell to slap into her shielded torso, causing her kinetic barriers to flare up angrily to absorb it. She dropped back into cover, the ex-Cabal maintaining an aura of calm around herself.

His pulse rifle hissed, and he watched silently as the empty clip popped out, right before he slotted a new one into place, sealing the magazine.  _That's five clips left. Got to make 'em count._

He watched Tali cry out as her shields failed, the small fragment of a shotgun shell piercing the side of her arm, dribbles of red blood weeping out of the cut. Tali quickly applied a small dab of medi-gel to the affected area and sealed it off: she would get a small cold, nothing more. Picking up her shotgun she returned to her duties, only lowering her weapon long enough to lash out with her omni-tool, an electromagnetic pulse hitting another mech and causing its tech armor to pop, allowing Moses to blast it away with a single shot from his Minotaur.

"No..." he heard Aria begin to mutter over the chaos of combat, the N7 not bothering to turn to face her as he just kept on firing, the rifle kicking against his shoulder and numbing it, "...never. I won't...no...I won't go out like this..."

"Then fucking shoot something!" he finally snapped, still not turning towards her, "Don't just stand there, Aria! Shit, Keeling, to your left!"

"Got it!" the N7 in question spun and countered the mech behind her with an omni-blade, watching hers clash against the swing of the mech's own blade, having been moments from decapitating her from behind. The mech was strong, gradually beginning to overwhelm her, but not before Javik swung around and fired point blank into the mech's chest, particle beam blasting out through the back of it. A smoking hole in its chest, the mech's blade evaporated, the RAMPART collapsing to the ground, steam pouring from its smoking torso. Keeling gave the prothean a nod of thanks, before returning to her defensive work.

Aria still wasn't doing anything, and he was beginning to get annoyed at her, the spectre forced to replace another clip with a second one.  _Four left._

Luckily for Aria, the twenty or so mechs sent towards them weren't much of a threat. His squad held firm, and despite the limited ammo, they soon found themselves with room to breathe as the last mech collapsed in a heap of broken metal. All twenty or so mechs were destroyed, their corpses littering the chamber they were trapped inside.

"Be ready," he ordered, standing up as he surveyed the situation, "There will be more where that came from, and I doubt Petrovsky's going to leave us alone very long. If you've got injuries, tend to them. If you need a drink or something to eat, make it so. And if you need to assume a new position, then get to it. We don't have long."

He turned to Tali, his posture slouching slightly as his gaze softened, "Are you okay? How's that cut? Anymore injuries?"

She shook her head, "Just a small cut, nothing to fret over. As for any injuries..." she did a quick once over, but after a moment, she shrugged, "Nothing I can see. My suit isn't registering any further breaches."

"Good," he replied calmly, nodding. Assured with her safety, he pivoted on the spot, his gaze steeled once more as he moved over to Aria, pissed off with her disposition. She had done nothing to help them fight back the mechs: she had just stood there, doing absolutely nothing. And he needed to know why.

Aria wasn't even facing him, too busy looking over the field in front of her. Her shotgun was holstered, her body shaking as she got more and more agitated. Nyreen had seen this and moved to join them, but Aria held up a hand, having apparently heard them approaching, motioning for them to halt, "No, I  _refuse_ to give up. I'm not going out like this!"

"And what the fuck are you going to  _do_  about it?" he barked, halting just meters from her. He noticed Keeling joining them, eager to speak with her commander. He motioned for her to hold for one moment, before turning his attention back to Aria, "Listen Aria, more of those mechs are coming, and I can't afford to have you hesitating. Now, are you going to-"

" _ **Are you not fucking listening!?**_ " Aria suddenly shouted, biotically shoving him back. It was a light burst of energy, and so he barely moved an inch from where he was, but it was clear Aria was no longer as collected as she had been: she was quickly losing it, and that made her dangerous. Keeling had noticed this and taken it as a threat, raising her rifle in an instant to aim at Aria. The asari paid her no mind, "I will  _ **NOT GO OUT LIKE THIS!**_ "

He could tell she was summoning her biotics: her body had that subtle blue aura about her, one that was intensifying with every moment. Liquid fire raced up her body, wrapping her in a sheet of brilliant dark energy. Even her eyes glowed as she increased the amount of energy flowing through her body until it practically danced off her fingertips. He thought she was about to snap, and made to raise his own rifle in case she decided to lash out at those around her.

A howl of defiance, and the asari charged.

But not towards them.

Towards the field.

Nyreen's eyes shot open wide, and for a second, he thought he heard her cry out in concern, " _ **Aria!**_ Don't-"

What happened next completely shattered all their expectations. Instead of slamming head first into the barrier, she instead halted her momentum and lashed out with both her hands, as if trying to grip it. Her hands glowed so brilliantly it looked as though she might explode from the concentration of biotics, but what happened next completely blew them away, leaving them shocked at what they were witnessing.

Instead of Aria's hands being vaporized into ash, inevitably leading to the asari crying out in pain as her appendages were incinerated, the orange field  _parted away_ from her hands, as if she was digging a hole on a beach, and the sand parted at her intrusion. The asari growled and hissed in pain as it no doubt took enormous exertion for her to pull off this feat, focusing every iota of biotic energy she had. Having made a small hole, her hands began to pry outwards, as if trying to pull away more and more of the orange plasma, like it was made of paper.

And to their continued consternation, it was  _working_.

He had no doubt that Petrovsky was watching them, and if he was, Marcus could imagine that his expression was much the same as theirs at this very moment.

"I...will not...fucking...die...here..." Aria panted, quickly out of breath, her energy beginning to sap as she collapsed to one knee, the effort taking its toll. But she kept persisting, pulling more and more of the field away as the gap continued to grow, and grow...and  _grow._ Aria might as well have been a street light for how much she was glowing right now, the energy almost blinding in its intensity.

"I...cannot...abide...rotting here...not...today..." she continued, muttering more to herself than she was to anyone else, uncaring if they heard her or not, "I...am...Omega...and the...one rule...the...one...r-r-rulleee..."

_...don't fuck with Aria._

"Shepard-Captain," Moses announced, breaking him from his gaze as he turned to look up at the prime, "Additional hostile threats inbound. We estimate their numbers to be roughly forty individual combat units."

"Forty?" he replied, exasperated. Nothing the geth's nod, he turned to his squad. There was simply no way they had the kind of ammo to win a fight like that. And he just knew that Petrovsky would just keep sending in more and more, in ever increasing numbers, until they were all dead. He might just get fed up and employ gas to get rid of them...

_Forty...if we can just hold out long enough..._

He wouldn't lie: the situation was looking entirely hopeless. And even if they relied solely on their biotics after running out of ammo, they would fatigue eventually...everything had an expiry date.

_I just need a sign...anything...to get us through this._

Someone must have heard his prayer.

He spun back around as Aria shouted to him, albeit weakly, "S-s-Shepard...I...you need to..."

He didn't need her to finish, for he could see for himself what she had done. There was now a hole large enough for an entire person to dive through if they were desperate enough, allowing them access to the outside. Of course, with Aria weakening every second, there wouldn't be enough time for the whole squad to get through. No, there was only enough time for a couple...two people at most.

He knew what he had to do.

He jogged up to Aria, nodding to her, "I don't how you knew you could do this, Aria, but whatever the case, you may have just ended up saving our lives."

Aria didn't bother to look at him, now so exhausted that she could barely raise her head to look at him, "I...didn't...I...made...a desperate...guess..." she shook her head lightly, looking ready to pass out, "Just...hurry the fuck up...I can't...hold this...forever..."

Her hands slipped slightly. The gap got smaller.

"Go Marcus," he heard Garrus say behind him, "We'll bunker down here, give them a real fight. Just like we did at the Collector Base."

He turned to the turian and gripped his shoulder tightly, "I leave you in command then," he turned to Keeling, nodding at her, "Keeling, you're with me. I'll need at least one other person to help me get there."

The N7 wasted no time in accepting his orders, rushing over to join him. He motioned her through, watching as his fellow special ops operative dove through the hole in a dive, just barely avoiding having her legs come into contact with the exposed rim of the gap. She arrived out on the other side in a roll, landing in a crouched position. She quickly raised her rifle and scanned the area, making sure no mechs were awaiting them. Assured by her success, he turned to the hole, knowing it was his turn.

He ran, sprinting up to the hole, and at the last moment, he ducked into a roll.

For the briefest moment, he felt the field graze his armor, sizzling as it made contact, incinerating a sheet of armoured steel.

And then he was on the other side, landing in an unceremonious heap on the ground, his weapon sliding from his grip and onto the floor. He quickly rolled over and checked himself for missing appendages and, once satisfied he was okay, stood up, picking up his rifle in the process.

Aria didn't last long after. With Marcus through the gap, she allowed Nyreen to pull her back, hands slipping. The field snapped back to cover the gap in an instant, like it was never there in the first place. Aria fell to the ground, coughing and heaving as she was finally allowed to breathe, having held her breath for the last few moments. Her biotic light died off, reduced to nothing but a glimmer on her skin. It was clear Aria was now out of this fight for a while, completely spent, at least for the moment.

His eyes met Tali's through the field, and he saw the look in her eyes, even through the distortion of the barrier that seperated them.

She gave him a thumbs up, before ducking behind her cover again. She had faith in him.

He wouldn't let her down. He wouldn't let any of them down.

Afraid that if he stared a second longer he would reconsider leaving his squad, he quickly spun around again to face their approach. Keeling was waiting for him, stoically positioned in an unflinching combat stance.

"Ready to go on your word, sir," she stated.

He tapped her shoulder, feeling himself breathe in deeply. The reactor's control center wasn't that far away, he noted, being only a couple hundred meters or so. Victory was within their reach: so close, yet, in an instant, could be so far away. He needed to make sure they got there, and he needed to be careful this time. Petrovsky had caught them offguard with his trap the first time, but now he was ready. Marcus would not fall for the same trap twice.

He motioned his hand forward, his hand signal for her to advance, "Forward. Get to that control room, no matter what. Our team is counting on us."

The area ahead of them was a series of catwalks interlaced with each other, with a second cooling rod directly over it, more electricity oozing along its structure, bright flashes of light lancing and ionizing the area around it, the scent of ozone reaching his olfactory filters and causing him to wrinkle his nose. Ahead of these catwalks was the control center itself, located on the second level, accessed by a stairway leading directly to it. He could discern no visible hostiles ahead of them, so Marcus and Keeling proceeded with caution, unwilling to fall into a second trap.

They slowly inched forward, but not so slow as to be sluggish. Their pace was reasonable, each of them covering the other's back as they checked for ambushes, remaining vigilant the entire length of the trip. Their boots clicked as they impacted the decking of the catwalk, the pair slipping past a pair of unattended crates, checking behind it for any attackers, before moving on. They did this what felt like six times, checking every crate or potential piece of cover they came across. They were taking no chances.

A voice crackled in his comm, one he recognized as Nyreen's, "How much closer are you, Shepard? We're really feeling the heat back here," there was several gunshots, "We're holding for now, but those RAMPARTs are really starting to choke us. Some of your squad have already run out of ammo."

 _Shit. We've got to go faster._ He nodded to Keeling, who was privy to the conversation and increased her pace alongside his, "We'll be there soon, Nyreen. Just hold on. How's Aria doing?"

The turian sighed, "Strangely enough, she's already helping us fight back. I think the idea of you guys reaching the control center in lieu of being trapped here with us has given her a boost of confidence. She's still unable to use her biotics, though."

_I'm not surprised. The strain probably almost killed her._

"Keep me posted," he stated.

"Wait!" Nyreen suddenly shouted, sounding alerted. After a few seconds, she spoke up again, "Damn, Petrovsky must know you've escaped! You've got mechs inbound for your position!"

Sure enough, Marcus felt a dull impact on his back as his kinetic barriers absorbed the stray buckshot of a shotgun, the pellets pelting harmlessly off his invisible kevlar. He turned around in an instant, watching three RAMPARTs approaching them at a jog, their tech armor giving them a glow almost as intense as that of the force field. Their electronic war cries signalled across the area, just as the other two mechs opened fire.

He knew he couldn't waste time fighting them: he needed to get to that control center before his squad was overwhelmed.

Luckily for him, Keeling seemed to sense his urgency. As he turned to her, she was already holding a hand out to him, signalling for him to stop. He stared at her, blinking slightly, as she spoke, "I'll hold this position while you get to the control center. I'll keep them off your back, sir."

He looked at her for a second, "You don't have to do this, Lieutenant."

"Call me Keeling sir," she insisted, shocking him with her sudden breach in professionalism. As if to amend this fact, she spoke again, "And with all due respect sir, you need to get your ass to that control room before its too late. I'll be waiting here, cleaning up scrap metal."

More shotgun shells hammered their position, and in response, Keeling stood up, firing off several shots from her valkyrie, before lowering again. She turned to face him, her gaze firm and without a doubt, "Sir..."

He nodded, standing up as he fired off several shots of his own from his pulse rifle, "Give 'em hell, Keeling."

"That's why I'm an N7, sir," she reciprocated, quickly priming a grenade, "Good luck." She then tossed it over her head.

Marcus didn't wait to see the outcome. Turning on his heel, he threw caution to the wind as he pelted towards the control room at full speed, sprinting with all the energy he could muster. He felt some shells trail behind him for a moment, but that all ended when he heard Keeling's grenade explode, feeling a brief heat on the back of his neck before it dissipated, replaced with the sounds of Keeling's rifle barking, followed by the groans and coughs of broken sheets of metal being torn from their structure.

The sounds of the firefight behind him were dying as he got further away from the skirmish zone. He sighed with relief as he finally reached the final steps leading into the control center. Taking a long inhale and exhale, making sure to regulate his breathing, he swapped his rifle for his loaded pistol, and steadily began to rise up the steps. One by one he ascended them, getting closer and closer, until he finally reached the door. With a swipe of his hand, the green haptic interface beeped, disappeared, and the door slid open with a groan, the ancient hydraulics complaining as its old infrastructure were used.

The room wasn't as dark as he was expecting it: if anything, it was actually quite lively. There were consoles all over the relatively large room, with all of them emitting holographic projections of important information and statistics regarding the reactor they were monitoring. They were no chairs to speak of, although given the people who built this place likely had no use for such comforts it wasn't all that surprising. Ancient krogan lettering aligned the walls, faded and once again painted over by the more modern turian writing: all it did was confirm where he was.

He had made it. This was the control room.

He looked to his left to see a solitary door. It was powered down, its haptic interface deactivated. From the turian words above it, he could see that the door led to the core, but it was clear that this door had not been active for centuries due to the flakes of paint that were peeling off the door itself, revealing the rusted, plain grey steel underneath. He ignored that however: he didn't need to access the reactor directly to do what he needed to do.

He turned to his right, and found just what he needed: a particularly large looking console hooked up to what seemed to be a supercomputer of some sort, hanging from the ceiling. Ascending the small stairway that flanked the left and rightside of the room to the console, he found a long, six-meter wide observation window that allowed him to see the chamber beyond, and it was impossible for him to not notice the giant, blazing orange field in the background. Flashes of gunfire could be seen erupting near it, likely from Keeling and her engagement with the mechs trying to stop them.

He spared it only one glance before turning to his final objective: the console itself. Its primary viewscreen displayed the turian insignia for the station itself, as well as the clearly marked word 'reactor' in the top left. Inside, the glass casing of the supercomputer housed a red hologram of the reactor: a tall, cylindrical looking object which seemed to condense towards the tip. It was because of this that he knew what he needed to do next.

He quickly established comms with EDI as he approached the console, setting his pistol down next to it. Once the crackling cleared up, he knew a connection was established, "Okay EDI, I'm in the control center. I need you to walk me through this."

_Shit. Never considered I would have to do this myself._ _**This** _ _should be interesting..._

To his surprise however, it was not EDI's voice that responded to him. This voice was not at all electronic, far more worn out and out of breath, and spoke with a sort of desperation and anger that he could only associate with Aria, "Change...of plans, Shepard. The reactor...there isn't enough time. You need to...overload...the reactor. Its the...fastest solution."

He frowned, quickly moving his hands away from the terminal, "Aria, the plan is to reroute power from the forcefields. If I overload-"

"Which there...isn't enough...fucking time to...do," she wheezed, the sound of a shotgun's boom sounding over her voice and temporarily muting her out, "We're...going to be overrun. Rerouting power will take...too long...overloading the reactor...is faster...and will...achieve the same...result..."

Before he could respond, he heard the sound of beeping originating from his left. He recognized the sound, and turned around just in time to watch as Petrovsky's holographic form appeared before him once again, having redeployed his portable QEC emitter the moment he realized what Marcus was about to do. The general walked through the railing and stood next to the console, fixing Marcus with a firm gaze. It was one he hadn't seen in the general's eyes before: one that demonstrated a desperation he wasn't used to.

"Don't do this, captain," he stated immediately, quick and to the point, "There's more at stake here. If you overload the reactor...power to several districts will be cut off. Not all of them, but life support will fail in those areas, and most of them have civilian populations. Overloading the reactor will destroy these crucial systems...it may even open airlocks. Captain...if you do this, thousands of innocent people will die. The forcefields will be disabled, but you'll have sacrificed civilians in the process."

He nodded as he turned back to the console infront of him. He considered the general's words for a moment, before reaching back up to tap his comm, "Aria, did you hear all of that?"

Her response was immediate, "Yes...and I  _don't care_. Shut. It. Down."

"This is the kind of woman you're allied with," Petrovsky mournfully reproached, "She's willing to sacrifice thousands of innocents just to damage me. To wound me."

Nyreen was next to speak up, overriding Aria, "Shepard, we can hold them off! Stick to the original plan and reroute power from the forcefields! Siphon them back to the mining sector! You don't have to kill innocent people to do it!"

"There's...no fucking... **time**!" Aria barked, taking over once more, "We're getting swarmed by mechs every passing minute! Overload the reactor now! Its the fastest option!"

"But innocents will  _ **perish**_!" Nyreen returned.

"It doesn't matter! Just as long as Petrovsky feels it!" Aria returned, unwilling to back down, "Thousands will die, but that's war! Would you rather us die here!?"

"Even if you do drop the forcefields..." the General beside him continued, ever the constant presence at his side as he turned and walked towards the observation window, turning away from Marcus and his dilemma, "The adjutants down here will be released. They will swarm my forces and overwhelm them, but the entire station will fall. And how long do you see your forces lasting against them? Release them, and we all lose."

_Keep the forcefields up, the UGC will be stuck here for months. Drop them, and we can finally storm Cerberus HQ, but the adjutants will be released and everyone will die. Either way, the UGC is going to be defeated. No, there has to be another way...I won't overload the reactor. I can't._

"He's just trying to confuse you!" was the asari's response, clearly infuriated with Marcus' perceived inability to decide, "Hit the fucking overload... _ **now**_."

Petrovsky had joined his side again, his arms now crossed, "She'll never change, you know. She's always been this self-centered. She cares only for getting her station back, regardless of whether she has to do it by climbing atop the ashes of innocents. She would purge this entire station if it got her what she wanted. She doesn't care who gets hurt. No matter who wins this battle, Omega loses."

_He's got a point._

The General wasn't finished, "And don't you think it interesting that she waited until this very moment to tell you to overload the reactor? She could have voiced these concerns the moment you escaped my trap. Instead, she waited until you were here, poised with indecision, forced into making a quick decision. Almost as if...she was counting on you to make a split second decision," Marcus head snapped up to meet Petrovsky's gaze, and in that moment, he knew the general had gotten to him. And Petrovsky knew this, "She knows exactly what she's doing, Shepard. She's wanted this the entire time. Don't you see? She's hoping she can pressure you into overloading the reactor by making you think its the only option you have left. She wants those districts to lose power."

He shook his head, Marcus unwilling to acknowledge the obviousness of what was laid before him, "No. Aria may be a monster, but she doesn't go out of her way to kill innocent people. They're just collateral."

"No, of course not," he responded, although he knew what was to come next, "But what does she have to gain by venting those districts? By them losing power? It isn't just innocent people who would die. Come now Shepard, the answer is obvious."

He closed his eyes, and sighed.  _Cerberus forces would be caught in it too. She's hoping she can inflict massive casualties on Petrovsky's troops, weakening them for when we make our assault._

It was all beginning to add up. Aria's sudden decision to join them on this mission. Aria somehow believing that overloading the reactor will be faster and instead of telling him this information where it would be relevant, she waited until he was in a position to make a snap decision. She had thought of that solution too quickly...no, she had to have been planning it the entire time. And the idea of adjutants being released onto the station? She doesn't seem to care about that either. Almost like she's hoping the combination of these two things will grant her smug victory.

Petrovsky's words from just moments ago flooded back into his mind as he finally hesitated at this crucial moment.

_"She's always been this self-centered. She cares only for getting her station back, regardless of whether she has to do it by climbing atop the ashes of innocents."_

"What are you fucking waiting for!?" Aria roared, suddenly full of life, "We're running out of time! We're almost out of ammunition! Damn it, Nyreen's been hit!" there was the sound of a scuffle, followed by Aria's voice speaking up once more, "There, I've applied some medi-gel, but we can't last much longer! Overload the fucking reactor, Shepard!"

"Don't..." Nyreen intervened, "Reroute...power..."

"Come now, this shouldn't be so difficult. Perhaps something is holding you back, Shepard," Petrovsky piped up, moving forward until he was mere inches from the N7, "Perhaps you're starting to think this galaxy would be better off without her."

_Willing to sacrifice civilians just so she can deal a blow to Cerberus forces...willing to unleash adjutants upon the population, just to overwhelm Cerberus forces...she's crazy, insane...utterly without a care as to who gets hurt..._

_So yeah...maybe I am._

He couldn't let Petrovsky get to him, but there was a cold reasoning to the general's words. He made sense. Everything Aria had done up to this point was callous, but calculated. Crude, but effective. Done to inflict the worst possible harm upon her enemy, without a care as to who is caught in her crosshairs. She was uncontrollable. Totally unreasonable.

_How could I possibly let her take this station?_

And there it was. That fateful question. He had asked it, and now he had to mentally answer it. Thing is, he already knew the answer.

_I can't. I won't._

After a few more moments, he spoke again, clearing his throat, but not speaking to Petrovsky, "EDI...I need your help. How do I...how do I reroute power from the forcefields."

This unsurprisingly pissed off Aria. "You fucking fool-"

He silenced her, cutting off her side of the comms so she couldn't interrupt again, "EDI, please."

His AI companion was quick to respond, this time speaking through his omni-tool, "There is no need, Shepard. One moment."

Suddenly, the console seemed to gain a mind of its own, activating menus and going through numerous sub-routines and programs. He then realized that EDI must have hacked Omega's mainframe and was already in the system, making it a simple process for the AI to locate the relevant system subfiles and begin searching through them. He nodded, unmuting Aria, "EDI's hacking the reactor's mainframe now. She'll reroute-"

"Which will take too fucking long," Aria snapped, unwilling to listen to speak his mind, "You've doomed us all, you moron."

"You...did the...right thing," Nyreen winced, ignoring the pirate queen's rhetoric, "You've...just saved thousands of lives."

"Perhaps not," Petrovsky spoke up once more, Marcus realizing the general was still standing there, his holographic form having not moved an inch, "You still haven't addressed the problem of the adjutants. Those forcefields are the last barrier between us...and the horrors down there. I implore you to reconsider. Abandon this effort. Abandon Aria. She does not deserve your loyalty!"

 _Shit. Forgot about that._ He turned to the console, considering options on how to deal with this. Thinking, he turned to the console, knowing EDI could hear him, even as the console continued to perform a blur of numerous tasks. It was beginning to beep, indicating that the AI had somewhat begun the siphoning process. This seemed to worry Petrovsky, but he ignored the Cerberus general, focusing all his attention on their new predicament, "EDI, could you vent the lower levels? Would that deal with the adjutants?"

"Yes, but just as General Petrovsky observed, the adjutants can survive in a vacuum. Its likely that enough would survive to come into contact with a ship. The chance of doing so is exponentially high. The risk of adjutants spreading to other worlds would be too great."

 _And they would spread like wildfire._ He was beginning to lose hope, the spectre slouching against the terminal, before the AI spoke up once more.

"However, I found a solution I think you would find applicable," EDI declared, peaking his interest as he stood up suddenly, "Omega's reactor uses a set of primary and secondary cooling rods to introduce coolant into its centrifuge so as to stop it from entering a meltdown phase. However, if I was to retract the secondary cooling rods, the mixture would release enormous amounts of gamma radiation. If I retracted all of the secondary cooling rods for just a few minutes at most, I could navigate the radiation throughout the entirety of the mining sector. Given the highest concentrations of it, every adjutant would be destroyed. None would survive. I could then vent the area of the radiation, whilst reinserting the cooling rods. The adjutant threat will have been successfully eliminated. There will be no threat to us, as we are located within the reactor core: I would vent the radiation only into the Dark Zone."

He blinked, considering the option. Petrovsky seemed lost for words...or he was gone. Either way, the general was silent.

His silence was all that Marcus needed to confirm that this was the right solution.

He nodded, "Do it, EDI. How long will the process take?"

The AI calculated for a few moments, "A few minutes. Approximately four minutes and twelve seconds."

He sighed, realizing his squad was going to have to hold on a bit longer. "Do it," he ordered, switching to his squad comms, "EDI's going to pump radiation into the Dark Zone to kill the adjutants, and then she's going to reroute power from the forcefields. You guys need to hold on just for a few more minutes until she's done."

"Understood, Marcus," Garrus spoke up. After a few more seconds, he spoke again, apparently sensing Marcus' concern, "You did the right thing. We'll be fine."

_I wish I had your confidence. A few minutes can be an eternity for a squad without ammo and surrounded by enemies._

"Indeed."

He turned to see that Petrovsky had not left, but was simply standing by the window, looking out over the black expanse outside. His hands were clasped behind his back again, seemingly contemplating his coming defeat. Marcus seriously doubted that though, as this man likely had contingencies upon contingencies, and didn't seem like the kind of man who would roll over and accept defeat. Not until he was absolutely sure victory was beyond his grasp.

Marcus joined him by the window, watching as EDI began retracting the secondary cooling rods, his eyes tracking one as it pulled back, the lightning that lit up its form having died off. He crossed his arms, watching out of the corner of his eye as Petrovsky turned to him, "You know this isn't over yet, Shepard. You may disable my forcefields, but I still have some rooks left to defend the king."

He shrugged, "You do what you have to, Petrovsky. Just know that today, we're going to make this day the hardest and longest day of your life. Its going to be bloody, its going to be relentless, and we're not going to let up," he now fully turned to the general, "Today is the day Omega is liberated."

Petrovsky simply gave a solemn nod, turning away from the window as he faced Marcus in full, "Whatever our differences, I believe you did the honourable thing by choosing to ignore Aria. Its not too late for you. Abandon her. Surely you must know she cannot be allowed to rule Omega again. Not after what she's done."

 _You're right. And she won't._ But he could address that later. "This will end Petrovsky, but I'm not joining your side. Cerberus has done too much to undermine our war effort with the Reapers. This war must end, and I will not step aside and allow Cerberus to have the tools to continue to throttle my objectives."

"Very well then," Petrovsky gave one final, brisk nod, one of respect between peers. Marcus couldn't help but return it in kind, bowing his head ever so slightly, "I will see you on the battlefield." And with that, his hologram evaporated, the tiny spherical ball racing away from where he had previously stood and up into one of the vents in the ceiling, vanishing without a trace.

He must have stood there for a while, staring at the spot where Petrovsky had stood, because EDI's voice soon broke his train of thought, "Captain, it is done. I am venting the atmosphere in the Dark Zone now. You may proceed to reroute power."

He steeled himself, fists clenching as he turned from the window and approached the console. He saw one simple command on its glass surface, blinking at him with a red button that said 'reroute'. He knew there was no turning back from this: once he pressed this button, the war for Omega would begin its climatic final battle.

_No turning back now. This is it._

He didn't hesitate. Reaching up a hand, he pressed a single finger against the command, and watched it wink away, a status bar showing up. A blue line began to fill it up as the rerouting progress begun, and Marcus couldn't tear himself away from it.

With just a touch of a button...the beginning of the end had begun.

_We're coming for you, Petrovsky._

**{Loading...}**

_He had no idea where he was. Everything was a blur: a simple darkness enveloping his vision, inescapable in its ubiquity, and completely enveloping in its totality. He tried to move his head, but found he was unable to do so. Even his eyes seemed fixed into looking directly ahead of him. He felt no pain, no feeling in his body...nothing. He felt numb all over, as if he wasn't corporeal at all, but was simply a wandering spirit. No form. No shape. No purpose._

_That soon began to change. He could feel light beginning to blast through the dark, impacting upon his eyes and making him want to blink, but he found he couldn't even do that. He could only stare as the light assaulted his eyes, burning his retinas as more of the darkness peeled away. Feeling was returning to his limbs, one by one, and he found that he could finally blink. Desperate for a reprieve from the burning light, he closed his eyes._

_The burning went away. He opened them again._

_The darkness was gone now, wrapping tossed away as he found himself situated in a tightly packed room. His eyes ran a quick assessment of his surroundings: the floor was carpetted, but the carpet itself was a dull grey, with nothing remarkable adorning it. The walls were a plain blue, with the odd black stripe. A pair of four featureless windows aligned the back wall, but the curtains were drawn down, stopping him from seeing what lay behind them. Halogen lighting lined the ceiling, which was coloured the same dull grey as the carpet. There was a single door at the back, with its haptic interface turned green. Light streamed into the room through an open set of windows to the left, and he could hear chatter outside, accompanied by the sounds of moving vehicles and passing aircraft._

_His memory was hazy, so he didn't immediately recognize where he was. It also took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone: he sat in the middle of a large column of other men and women, all of them sitting as he was, their backs turned to him. As he turned around, he saw more lined up behind him...there had to be about 20 other people in here with him, all of them seated. They sat on the carpet like children lining up for assembly at school: legs crossed, hands on their legs, staring straight ahead. Not a single one of them, not even the women, had a lock of hair on their bald heads, each of them possessing a buzz cut. All of them wore blue and black fatigues; as unremarkable as the room they were in. Noting the uniformity of the people around him, he didn't need to look at himself to know he was likely in the same state._

_There was only one person standing in the room: this one stood with an air of authority. He wore a black and blue uniform, but this one had his rank and name imprinted on his left breast, wearing a simple cap over his head, although it was clear he had more hair on his head than they all did. His hands were clasped behind his back, although it looked like he had only just turned up, given the fact that his eyes were scanning them one by one, indicating he hadn't been in here any longer than a few seconds. His skin was a darkened ever so slightly, with slight stubble spreading from his chin right to the back of his jaw._

_Something on the wall caught his eye, and he finally looked at it. In that moment, he knew where he was._

_A black insignia was painted into the wall just near the curtained windows. It was a black 'A' shape, seperated down the top, with a pair of lightning bolts flanking the sides of a small Gladius, its handle pointed upwards. Above and below it, written around in a circular formation, were the words:_

_'Systems Alliance Marine Corps. Fort Leopold.'_

_Of course he knew where he was. This was the day he was inducted into the Alliance military._

_The dark-skinned Alliance officer spoke up, breaking the silence, "I will now introduce you to your drill instructors!"_

_He noticed some of the new recruits he sat with flinch as a man began to shout orders from behind the closed door to their left: despite being so loud, the muffled sound didn't carry well through the door, and it came off as unintelligible gibberish. A moment later after the shouting stopped, the door shot open, with four more men in Alliance uniforms, each wearing a cap, marching through, their arms moving in an exaggerated sway as they, like a pack of robots with pre-programmed scripts, moved into position without a hint of emotion on their faces. Three of them stopped at the back, pivotting to face them before their hands, tightened into fists, rested at their sides. The fourth officer stopped infront of them, and turned to address the group before him. It was the dark-skinned officer however, who he had now identified as 'Major Matthis Cornwall', who spoke up, "Your senior drill instructor is Gunnery Sergeant Eddard Ellison..."_

_The man infront stepped forward, indicating he was the one being identified. He stared directly ahead, almost like he was dead inside, with his cap slightly cocked to the side. He had a small goatee, but no other apparent facial hair. His hair remained in a buzz cut, right to the point where he looked bald. He was stocky, but not muscular. He was light skinned, with a small scar along the area under his jaw._

_Cornwall continued, "...he is the first marine in your chain of command. I will now have your drill instructors reaffirm their commitment to you, and the Marine Corps, by administering the Drill Instructor's pledge." He then stepped to the side, turning his back to the recruits as he stood firmly infront of Ellison's point of view, mere inches from him. His feet firmly set side-by-side, he snapped up his right arm, holding it in the air with a flat palm pointed vertically. Ellison did the same with his own right arm, as did the three as-of-yet-unnamed instructors behind him._

_Cornwall's voice was raised, uttering the creed as the instructors returned his words in kind, "These recruits are entrusted to my care! I will train them to the best of my ability! I will develop them into smartly disciplined, physically fit, basically trained Marines, thoroughly indoctrinated in the love of the Corps and Earth. I will demand of them, and demonstrate by my own example, the highest standards of personal conduct, morality and professional skill!"_

_As soon as it started, it was over. They all lowered their hands, with Cornwall exchanging a final word with Ellison, "It is your job as drill instructor to turn these recruits into Systems Alliance marines."_

_Ellison snapped a crisp salute, "Aye sir!"_

_Cornwall didn't so much as nod as he twisted on the spot and marched out, heading towards the wall so that he could observe from afar. He had now left them at the mercy of Drill Instructor Ellison, and Ellison himself certainly didn't waste time getting to the point._

_"SIT UP STRAIGHT AND LOOK AT ME!" Ellison barked, and every recruit in the room immediately followed his orders, their backs straightening, even his. He fixed Ellison with a glare, but bit his tongue, knowing that if he drew attention to himself, he might get noticed. And he wasn't, strictly speaking, legally allowed to even be here._

_"My name is Gunnery Sergeant Ellison!" he continued, his voice reaching an octave that he reckoned a lot of marines wouldn't be able to consistently hold. He began to pace back and forth, his voice only seeming to get louder and louder as it boomed across the room, "And I am your senior drill instructor! I am assisted in my duties by Drill Instructor Staff Sergeant Peters, Drill Instructor Sergeant Harnell and Drill Instructor Sergeant Courbis!" as he said their name, each of the drill instructors stepped forward, acknowledging their identities. He couldn't help but look over each and everyone of them, wanting to know every single aspect of the men that were soon going to be commanding his life for the next few months. It was only now that he realized that the instructor on the left was a female, her boyish hair and flat chest confusing him for a moment._

_"OUR MISSION...!" he roared, capturing his attention once more. If he could give Ellison credit, it was that he knew how to draw attention, "...is to turn each one of you into a Systems Alliance marine." As he said this, the other three instructors turned and marched away, their purpose apparently fullfilled for this morning. He didn't watch them leave, his attention now completely focused on Ellison._

_"A marine is characterized as one who possesses the highest of military virtues! He_ _**obeys** _ _orders,_ _**respects** _ _his seniors, and_ _**strives** _ _constantly to be the_ _**best** _ _at everything he or she does._ _**Discipline** _ _and_ _**spirit** _ _are the hallmarks of a marine! Each one of you can become a marine if you develop discipline and spirit."_

_He didn't realize Ellison was going to be a SAMC infomercial._

_"WE WILL GIVE EVERY EFFORT TO TRAIN YOU!" he spat, having now ceased his pacing to stand infront of them all, "Even after some of you have given up on yourselves! STARTING NOW, you will treat ME, and your fellow MARINES, with the highest respect! We have earned our place in the marines! And we expect nothing less than THAT from YOU! We will treat you as we do the other marines...with firmness, fairness, dignity, and compassion! Physical, or verbal, abuse by any marine or recruit will NOT BE TOLERATED! If anyone should abuse or mistreat you, I expect you to report any such incidents to me, or one of my drill instructors. Furthermore, if you feel that_ _**I** _ _have mistreated you, you will report it to Major Cornwall. My drill instructors will be with you EVERY DAY, EVERYWHERE that you go! I've told you what you and my drill instructors will do. FROM YOU, WE DEMAND THE FOLLOWING!"_

_The recruits sat in silence, some of them looking terrified while others sat straight and unflinching, like they had expected this. He was one of them. His father had prepared him for this...in more ways than one. Let's just say he was no stranger to yelling and physical violence._

_"You must give 100 percent of yourself at all times! Obey our orders quickly, willingly and without question! Treat every marine and recruit with courtesy and respect! YOU WILL NOT physically abuse or threaten another marine or recruit! Be completely honest in everything that you do! A marine never lies, or cheats! Respect the rights and properties of others! A marine never steals! You must WORK HARD to strengthen YOUR BODY, YOUR SPIRIT AND YOUR MIND! Be proud of yourself in that uniform you wear! And ABOVE ALL ELSE, NEVER QUIT OR GIVE UP! For we, OFFER YOU, the challenge of recruit training, and the opportunity to earn the title of Systems Alliance marine!"_

_For some reason, he suddenly felt sleepy as Ellison's speech came to an end. Every marine in the room moved to stand up, but he didn't. He couldn't. He could feel an itch in his eyes, just behind the socket, where he couldn't reach. It began to burn, and he soon realized that the light that had so dispassionately consumed him before was now beginning to take hold again, enveloping him in a mist of white. Words from Ellison's speech resonated within his mind._

_...a marine never lies, or cheats..._

_...a marine never steals..._

_...be proud of that uniform you wear..._

_...oppurtunity to earn the title of Systems Alliance marine..._

_Oh, how ironic._

_The white consumed him in a blinding flash, and he once again found himself deposited somewhere else._

_This time, he needn't have bothered trying to figure out where he was. This wasn't a memory he was trying to squash. This was one he took great pleasure in. One he remembered fondly, and with sentimentality. But it was also one he looked upon bitterly._

_There was a sudden weight on all of his limbs, and he knew why. Looking down, he could see the Alliance marine BDU he had been wearing was now covered in a set of HYPERION-82L light combat armor, a more lightweight variant on the HYPERION-82 medium combat armor designed with infiltrator's in mind. He was covered head to toe in the protective alloy, helmet fastened tightly over his head. His M-8 Avenger was holstered on his back, the marine favouring his Kessler pistol. The weapon was equipped with a polonium shaving block: his favourite. The concentration of polonium in each pellet made the pistol into an utterly lethal weapon. Once it penetrated the skin, the dosage was high enough to prove immediately fatal to the victim. Death was all but assured._

_He felt himself moving forward, tapping at the haptic interface of the door infront of him. He watched it part with a whir, the marine stepping through the threshold._

_It was then he noticed a drop of blood splash onto the deck infront of him. Looking down, he saw that he was absolutely soaked in blood, most of it red but with the ocassional dried patch of orange: krogan blood. It was clear he had killed many before he had reached this ship, as the blood was practically slipping off of him from every crevice. Bits of brain and stringy sinew hung from cracks in his armor, and he saw a few scuff marks across his chestplate that indicated a scuffle. The combat knife that he usually kept on his hip was missing, indicating he had either forgotten it or, as was more likely, he had left it in the corpse of an enemy he had used it on. Considering he had abandoned it, it must have been wedged in deep._

_He swivelled around as he heard a loud roar, turning to see a krogan charging him from the left, shotgun grasped in his meaty talons. He wore red and black armor, the image of a white skull ontop of a closed fist painted onto his breastplate._

_Blood Pack._

_The krogan did not speak or make an attempt to communicate with him. He simply charged._

_The marine grinned, licking his lips. He did not appear afraid of the creature, even though most marines would be pissing themselves with fear at the sight of the gargantuan lizard tanking towards them, hands so large they could envelop a human skull. But he was no regular marine. In fact, he wasn't even your usual combatant._

_He raised his pistol, popping off a few shots at the krogan that was charging him. The krogan growled as the bullets hit true, the arrogant alien having disposed with having kinetic barriers, believing his tankish nature and regenerative ability sufficient to survive this battle. His mistake._

_Orange blood spurted across the floor from each round and the soldier, now satisfied his slugs had hit his target, quickly side stepped, turning his body so it was perpendicular to the krogan that was charging him. The krogan barrelled past, totally unprepared for this development, and tried to cease his momentum. Instead, he slammed into the wall at the end of the corridor, the sound echoing across the empty hall._

_He turned, facing the krogan once more as he steadied himself, raising his pistol again. The krogan whirled around, recovering in an instant, as he let out a cacophonus war cry. He then charged forward again, this time raising his Savage model shotgun, teeth bared in an animalistic growl. He snarled right back, taking aim with his pistol._

_Then the krogan was consumed by a bright flash as the wall next to him exploded outwards, raining shards of twisted, flaming metal and ruined bearings. The krogan was showered in the flaming hot sheets, crying out as he was thrown violently against the opposite wall, shotgun slipping from his grip. The sound of him impacting the wall was thunderous, before he thudded back down on the deck. The marine stumbled back from the blast, visor tinting to shield himself from the visual splendor. After a moment he turned back, observing the event with a non-chalant shrug. The entire wall had been blown away, ragged tears and smoking debris lying around the blast site, allowing him a clear view into the hangar that he had just left to get here. Fires licked at the hallway, fire alarms wailing as sprinklers quickly kicked in, a fine spray of cold water washing over him and dousing the fires. He watched as the wet blood on his form was washed away, cascading down to congregate around him in a orangey-red pool._

_He was sad to see it go._

_He turned to observe his handiwork, having since remembered the shuttle he had not-so-subtlely 'landed' on the Blood Pack ship. The shuttle had been laden with explosives, and he imagined the fireworks display must have been glorious to observe from the planet below. He had thought all the explosives had detonated when he tore his path through the hangar bay doors, but apparently one of them hadn't gone off. Lucky him._

_The krogan was stirring on the ground, weakened through a combination of the concussive nature of the blast and the highly lethal dose of polonium that was running its course through his system. As he approached, he noticed that it probably didn't help that the krogan had a jagged piece of metal sticking out of his left thigh, blood trickling down and ocassionally spurting from it whenever the krogan tried to apply any weight to it. The krogan showed little to no pain, demonstrating that he was in a blood rage state: entirely incapable of feeling pain._

_"Human..." the krogan groaned, beady eyes peeling up to look at him, teeth still gritted in a snarl._

_He smirked. "Filth."_

_He raised his weapon and fired twice, straight into the krogan's neck. Blood spurted from the open wound, gushing down his chest and staining his scarred red and black armor. He watched the fallen mercenary squirm, the krogan unable to regenerate quickly enough as the cells that facilitated that process were being rapidly killed off by the polonium radiation in his system. He could only watch with sadistic glee as he proceeded to empty more and more bullets into the krogan's sternum, almost laughing as the krogan cried out from every shot, more and more radiation unleashing itself on his nervous system._

_Then his pistol screamed out, red hot steam pouring from the barrel as the trigger locked up. He had overheated the weapon._

_Sighing with some exasperation, the marine turned from the stricken Blood Pack merc to head down the hallway, finding his path now obscured by a vorcha fireteam. The ugly animals screeched and howled at him, their razor sharp canines baring themselves in a hiss. Their beady, bloodshot eyes screamed wanton murder, their scythe-like claws itching to sink into the human's flesh._

_Holstering his pistol, he rushed forward, wanting desperately to introduce himself to his new guests._

_The first vorcha raised his rifle, a batarian Terminator model, and fired. The shot went wide, missing the marine by a mile, but that didn't deter his compatriots. They all snapped up their own weapons, a shotgun and another rifle respectively, buckshot and slugs snapping through the air to slap into his kinetic barrier, ripples of blue shielding him as the bullets were stopped dead in their tracks._

_He was rapidly closing distance with the first vorcha. The creature angrily swung its rifle at him like a club, trying to bludgeon him. That was its mistake._

_He dove under the swing, watching the rifle pass harmlessly over his head. Straightening himself, he found himself face-to-face with the vorcha's hissing maw. It screeched at him, and he watched as its mouth parted to reveal its sharpened teeth, its breath blasting upon his visor in a thick film, saliva and spittle impacting upon its surface._

_Without thinking, he plunged his fist directly into its mouth._

_The vorcha coughed and spluttered, choking as it felt its mouth suddenly invaded by the gigantic thick arm of its human attacker. As a reflex, it bit down, but its teeth didn't meet flesh like it should have, instead biting down on plastic and steel. Such was the force of its jaw clamping down that he saw its teeth popping out and breaking, the vorcha screaming in pain. However, with his fist in its throat, the sound was more of a squeal._

_He felt around for a familiar appendage, and found it at the very back of its mouth. With a smirk of glee, he yanked._

_Violet blood spat onto his visor as he tore out the creature's tongue, the vorcha mercenary suddenly falling silent and letting out a set of muted, strangled gurgles. He laughed maniacally, and proceeded to toss the ripped tongue aside, before raising a single fist and hitting the vorcha in the head with the full force of his swing._

_The other two vorcha were slow to take advantage of the human's vulnerability, so he saw opportunity in theirs. His hand fumbled at the wicked looking knife at the vorcha's hip, which looked to have a hooked tip that curved around at the end, and he ripped it out, before kicking the now speechless merc aside. He ducked under a shotgun blast, feeling the chatter of the third vorcha's rifle beating uselessly against his now fully recharged shields._

_He loved this. The violence. The killing. The blood, the viscera, the action. But most of all, he enjoyed killing alien scum. They were inferior. Filth._

_Parasites. And he would kill them all._

_Knife in hand, he whipped out his pistol in the other, the weapon now having cooled down enough for the trigger lock to release. Taking aim at the third vorcha, he fired three rounds straight into its abdomen. They all battered against its shields uselessly, but they had done the job he had sought to accomplish._

_The barriers of the merc popped as they were shattered. He aimed the pistol further up and fired directly into its skull. It took an additional two shots after that, as vorcha skin was notoriously tough, and their skulls even tougher. Eventually though, he watched with satisfaction as its head blew open, more violet-coloured blood and bits of brain exploding across the deck, more of it dribbling down its torso as it collapsed dead._

_That left one vorcha. He turned to his target, shrugging off a shotgun blast. He stalked towards his target, savouring the thrill of the hunt. Pure ecstasy coursed through his veins. There was a sort of...pleasure..to be derived from this. He had slaughtered these scum in the droves back down on that planet, and now he was on the precipice of his greatest kill yet. If he could just gain control of the ship...well, that moon did look to be in need of redecorating._

_He felt compelled to descend upon the Blood Pack merc. Its venomous screeches went through one ear and out the other, this marine feeling absolutely no sympathy for it or fear of it whatsoever. He was focused on the kill. The need to spill blood. Alien blood._

_The merc's shotgun beeped angrily as it overheated, trigger locking down. The vorcha snapped in anger, clawed hand bashing the top of the weapon as if willing it to work again. Now was his chance._

_Too busy focusing on getting its weapon working again, he lunged forward, and buried the wicked looking knife in his hand handle-deep into its neck. It gave way like it was nothing, the serrated blade likely having hit a tender and weak spot on the vorcha's otherwise bulletproof skin. It sunk deep, blood gushing from the gaping wound, and the marine giggled like a schoolgirl. The vorcha stopped moving, bloodshot eyes fixing his human killer with a cold, dead stare._

_He sliced the blade across, watching it tear open a long, six inch gash. Tendons and veins were ripped open with it, the blade doing enormous damage on its way out. A tidal wave of violet liquid flooded from the wound, the vorcha gasping for air as its oesophagus was ruptured. It fell to its knees, dropping the shotgun it had been so viciously bashing, claws scraping at the gash on its throat._

_The marine waited, patiently observing the vorcha's slow, painful death. It fell on its side, blood still pumping from the wound, but now getting slower as the alien's heart began to pump more slowly. His observation was broken by the strangled cries from behind him._

_He turned, finding his eyes locking onto the vorcha whose tongue he had ripped out earlier. It crawled pathetically across the ground, fumbling for a weapon, what's left of its teeth stained bright purple from its missing appendage. He frowned, irritated by the whimpering savage's feeble attempts to kill his aggressor, and at the fact that his enjoyment of the other vorcha's death had been interrupted._

_Raising his pistol, he fired twice. The vorcha fell still, two holes bored through the side of its head._

_He turned, ready to continue his enjoyment, only to find an itch behind his eyes. He sighed, realizing what was about to happen, but savouring the last moments of the bloodbath around him before it was all whisked away. He remembered this day fondly, and with bitterness. It was the day he became something._

_Then the flash was upon him._

_He was not expecting where he appeared next: these weird assortment of memories began to confuse him. He found himself wearing the same armor he had just moments before, this time much less blood-soaked and worn. His armor was the blue and black of the Alliance in color, but had a pair of gouges scraped into his armoured arm, each one looking like a tally of something. The gouges looked recent, like he had only just applied them._

_A tally of kills. A kill count. Eighteen, to be exact._

_He was wielding a hooked blade in his left hand...the same one he had taken from that vorcha. It was drenched in blood, but he immediately noticed that it wasn't dripping violet, but instead was stained red: the blood was thick and chunky, clinging onto the polished steel like glue. It coloured the blade intensely, leaving no inch of it untouched. His armor had some dried blood on it as well, but nowhere near as intensely as it had been on the Blood Pack ship._

_He wasn't wearing a helmet this time: instead, he had a Kuwashii tactical visor fitted over his right eye, giving him calculated information on accuracy and real-time combat information. His hair had grown significantly, although most of it was tied in a ponytail behind his head to remain within Alliance regs. He was clean shaven, just as he was now, with green eyes staring intently at his victim._

_His victim._

_This room had definitely seen combat. The door on the left had been blasted open, the doors twisted from their hinges and heavily scarred, likely from a breaching charge. The room itself was small, so the doors themselves had impacted the wall and sat almost perfectly against it. The desk infront of him was overturned, datapads and terminal tossed onto the ground carelessly, the chair overturned and facing the plain wall. He had no idea where this was, but he had an idea from the corpses that littered the room._

_Batarians. At least two of them looked to be armoured, their forms wrapped in what looked to be Type IV Mercenary medium combat armor. Each one laid flat on the floor, a bullet placed through each one of their heads, blood crusting around their lifeless skulls, four eyes gazing up at the ceiling with blank stares. Around them were at least five unarmed, unarmoured batarians, likely workers, who had also been gunned down, their bodies also riddled with bullets. One of them was slumped against the desk, a hand print having smudged blood across it, likely from when he had been trying to escape...judging by the long, thin cut along his throat, and the dried blood crusted around his neck, he hadn't gotten far._

_His victim sat in another chair, next to what looked to be a water cooler. The batarian's hands were tied to the arms of the chair with what looked to be zip ties: probably an improvization of his own doing. They were enough to keep the strong alien tied down, his legs also tied to the chair while his head was the only appendage allowed free movement, the batarian's black, beady eyes pearing back at him..._

_...in fear._

_He just loved that look, especially coming from a batarian. It filled him with power to know that a batarian, one of the most arrogant, repugnant and ugly species in the galaxy, was wetting himself in fear at the sight of a human standing over him, entirely at his mercy. There was a kind of smug enticement to be garnered from that, the kind that demanded acknowledgement._

_Apparently his victim had been getting plenty of that._

_It was only now that he realized the batarian was essentially...well, naked. He still swore clothing, but it had been ripped and torn, bits of loose cloth hanging from his skin, the batarian's slick, green skin visible underneath. It was here that he could see they had no nipples, or at least the males didn't. The only clothing the batarian really still had was his pants, because as torn as those were, it was nothing compared to the ruin that whatever the batarian had been wearing as a shirt. And then...there was the blood._

_The batarian was soaked red, and it didn't take a genius to see why. It wept from cuts all over the alien's body, leaking out slowly but steadily. There were bruises from where he'd been beaten, cuts and even burns from where he'd likely been tortured. He even saw bits of muscle as sliced flaps of skin hung loosely from where they'd almost been sliced off, like bits of leftover cheese. The batarian's chest was simply a mess. His face wasn't any better. Part of his upper lip had been physically ripped off, revealing nothing but the upper tips of his teeth underneath. More skin flaps hung loosely from his cheeks had been torn asunder, and his two left eyes had been beaten so badly that bruises had fused them shut. He had numerous teeth missing, and the marine soon found them on the floor, broken and snapped._

_Drool dripped down his lower lip, draining his mouth profusely. The batarian whimpered pathetically, his remaining eyes following the marine in a haze as he wondered what new torture awaited him next. He looked to have been crying, and the distinct smell of urine hung over the room, causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust._

_Moving over to the water cooler, he grabbed one of the available spare plastic cups and filling it halfway with cool water. He turned, leaning against the cooler behind him, taking an idle sip from it as he watched the batarian with rapt interest. He noticed the alien's eyes trailing the cup, and smiled devilishly, holding it up, "Oh, you don't get to have water. I earned this drink. All you've done is weep and cry like a baby. You broke so very easily. Too easily, in fact. I feel cheated."_

_A groan was his reply._

_"Hush now," he snapped, finishing off his drink before tossing the empty cup aside, brandishing his knife once again as he flashed it infront of the creature. He flinched, remaining eyes widening in uncontainable trepidation, "Or you'll get the blade again."_

_"Why...?" the batarian whispered._

_He snickered, his fist a flash as he once again slammed it into the batarian's face, knocking even more teeth out and badly bruising that side. The prisoner coughed and spluttered, a choking sound being heard as he started to choke on something. Noticing this, and not wanting his prisoner to expire so soon, he slapped him on the back of the head, once. The batarian's choking ceased immediately, a blur of white shooting from his mouth as the obstruction was violently ejected. It ricocheted off the desk, landing next to one of the dead batarians nearby. Another shard of tooth._

_He grabbed the back of his head, yanking it back so that he could stare straight down into his victim's eyes, "Because it pleases me to see you in pain. You blinks are a blight on society. You reek. You are ugly. A bunch of four-eyed freaks. And yet you persist on living. Its my job to ensure you stop living."_

_The batarian offered no objection, although he doubted it was because he has adopting his line of thinking. Oh no. But this batarian was yet to know the full extent of pain, and he found himself readying the blade for one more slice, descending towards his pants, ready to bring the blade down and castr-_

_"Lieutenant, STAND DOWN THIS INSTANT!"_

_He spun at the barked order, knife hanging limply at his side as he turned to take in his new arrival._

_There, standing in the doorway, was a human soldier clad in jet black armor, red and white stripes lining the arms right down to the gauntlets. His helmet was reminiscent of the old astronaut helmets of 21st century Earth, except smaller, the visor itself just as black as the armor it was equipped with to hide the identity of the user. He held a single M-7 Lancer assault rifle in his hands, now held in one hand and hanging limply at his side. The man's posture screamed military veterancy, his stance fixed in a permanent readiness while his helmet scanned the room upon entering it, taking in every single finite detail. He stood tall, easily towering over him by half a meter._

_He was wearing HYPERION-107 Infiltration Armor: a rare set of armor designed for a very select group of people. The insignia of those people was stamped firmly on the leftside of the man's breastplate._

_N7._

_Even though his helmet was tinted and he couldn't see the man's expression, he could tell he was glaring daggers at him. His voice was laced with horror, visibly shocked by what the marine had done and what was capable of. He had surveyed the room, seen the bodies, and now he had seen the bruised and skinned batarian prisoner that he had been toying with mere moments before. He saw the bloodied knife, and what he had almost done with it._

_"You better have a damn good explanation for this," he rasped, an idle finger tapping idly at the trigger of his rifle. He was not happy._

_He smiled, despite himself, "Why, I was just having fun with our enemy. That's what they are right? Our enemy?"_

_Before the man could reply, his radio crackled, a voice coming through, "Two-Four-Alpha, what's your status Alec? We've dealt with the eastside of the manufacturing facility and are moving on. We've seen no sign of Leng, over."_

_Alec Ryder glared at the marine known as Leng, tearing him apart with his eyes, "This is Two-Four Alpha to Seven-Six Charlie, I've found Leng. Got everything canned and handled, over."_

_"Solid copy, Seven-Six. Proceeding with the mission. Break."_

_"Copy that," Ryder then turned off his comms, turning back to Leng. The marine was still grinning, having now turned back to his batarian prisoner. He had never felt such ecstasy before...just the feeling of tearing this weak vessel of flesh had brought him euphoria beyond imagining. He needed to continue his work. He was almost done...if he could just make this batarian beg for a quick death..._

_He had apparently been stepping back towards the batarian, because Ryder now raised his rifle...but not at the batarian. At Leng._

_"I will not ask you again, soldier," he barked, closing distance with Leng until the barrel of his weapon brushed his ear, "Drop the knife, or I will drop you. Last chance."_

_"This scum is the enemy," Leng snarled, turning to glare at Ryder down the barrel, "Surely you would not choose him over your own-"_

_It all happened in a split second. The barrel wasn't there, and then it was again. In the brief second it took for Leng to spit vehemence at his CO, Ryder had turned his rifle, taken aim at the wreck of a prisoner and pulled the trigger. A high speed burst broke through his skull, red viscera consuming the wall behind him in thick rivlets. And just like that, the gun whirled back to his face, barrel smoking._

_Ryder glared him down, "The hostile has been eliminated, and its time for you to move on, N5."_

_Leng just laughed, "You have more sympathy for an alien then you do your own people. You make me sick."_

_"Your actions have proven to me today that I am not the one who is morally repugnant," the N7 replied, "You were brought here because you showed promise. I read your file, about what happened on Entiyon specifically. You did well, but now you're overstaying your welcome. The brass said you were reckless...they were right. When this mission is over..." he didn't finish that thought, motioning to the doorway, "As you were, N5. Proceed with the mission and complete it. That's an order. But I'll be keeping an eye on you."_

_Leng sheathed the knife, reaching over and picking up the Kessler pistol he had left near the water cooler. He knew what would happen next...he would continue the mission, he'd successfully complete it, and Alec Ryder would try to tarnish his name by having disb-_

_He didn't remember what happened next._

_Ryder grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall. The man's hand now clenched around his throat, gripping it firmly and seemingly driving the air from Leng's lungs. He dropped his pistol, suddenly gripped by confusion at this unexpected memory. He didn't remember this. This couldn't have happened, he'd remember if-_

_But then Ryder reached up to the sides of his helmet, unlatching it. Pulling it up and over his head, he tossed the helmet away, and the face hidden behind it smirked at him through a set of heavy stubble. But it wasn't Ryder's face that grinned at him, Leng noting as his smile fell and heart sunk._

_Marcus Shepard raised his fist, and let it come crashing down on the N5's face._

_And then it flashed, and the room he was in once again melted away._

_His vision snapped back into focus as he found himself dumped in some kind of apartment. He immediately noted that the weight on his body had lifted, because he no longer had his armor on. He wore nothing but a blue and black sleeveless shirt with the Marine Corps insignia on his left breast, a pair of blue shorts and his black combat boots. He was positioned in front of his queen-sized bed, the white sheets peeled back to reveal purple blood stains, soaking into the mattress. The pillows were tossed and ripped, likely from a struggle. His bedside lamp was shattered, glass littering the carpet. The curtains were pulled down, the only source of light coming from the single light fixture in the middle of the room. He saw a small bathroom to the right, the door closed and locked, with a small and modest kitchen just near the back of the property. It was a small apartment: about as average as they came._

_He noticed that his shirt was also stained, but the blue and black colors made it difficult to spot initially. This blood was also purple, but when he opened his mouth to frown, he felt additional liquid crusted around his lip area and face. Reaching up, he dabbed at the liquid, pulling away to reveal a mixture of orange, purple and red blood, staining his fingers in a disgusting congealment. Just the smell alone made him want to retch._

_It seemed every one of his memories involved him covered in blood._

_The next thing he noticed was the massive sniper rifle folded out on the bed infront of him. It lay in multiple pieces, pulled from a duffel bag and laid out as he likely prepared to assemble it. From the model, he had to guess it was a Naginata sniper rifle: a weapon that packed a hell of a punch, and was designed to leave a mess of the target's extremities. Anti-materiel for a reason. As he looked down at the disasembled weapon, only one goal popped up into his mind._

_Kill Ambassador Goyle. Then wipe out the Council._

_Now he knew where he was. These were his last moments as a free man. Where he had been cast aside by the Alliance after Elysium, having a hero they could 'get behind'. His deeds on Entiyon were forgotten, his record blacklisted and reduced to an attache on the Citadel. They were preparing to wipe their hands clean of him. His CO had said as much when he came to confront him, informing Leng that-_

_Ah yes, his CO. That's where the red blood must have come from._

_He gave a quick glance at the bathroom, remembering that his CO's body lay in the bathtub, crimson liquid leaking into the sink, his head ducked neatly between his legs from where Leng had brutally detached it from his body. The man had been assigned to oversee him during his stay on the Citadel. He couldn't even remember his name. It just wasn't relevant to him, only what he represented. He had taken care of that issue._

_More memories came rushing into the thick of his mind. The krogan ambassador he'd murdered. The asari acolyte he had...taken...on this very bed, before slitting her throat and tossing her body into the Presidium lake. The C-Sec tactical response team that had been sent to take him in, only for them to be wiped out as his superior N7 training allowed him to dispatch them without effort._

_He knew what came next. The Alliance and the Council had more than likely caught onto his actions by now. They needed to bring him in. And the only way to bring in an N7..._

_...is with another N7._

_He turned back to his rifle, getting ready to assemble it. Just as he picked up the heat sink, he heard the door crash open with a thunderous boom, the traditional wooden door splintering as it was kicked in with enormous force. Wood splinters rained across the carpet, the door swinging open violently as it slammed into the wall next to it, no door stopper to stop it from hitting it at full force._

_He heard the back door smash open as well, but neglected to focus on it as he turned to focus on his intruder. They stepped through the doorway, their M-7C Brawler carbine already fixed on him, jet black armor glinting in the light, artificial sunlight from outside bursting into the room to illuminate them in an almost heavenly glow. They wore no helmet, their face completely uncovered, allowing him to see the woman's clean shaven head, sunset-coloured eyes, short black hair and dark skin. The insignia on her breast identified her as an N7, and he immediately knew that she was who they had sent after him._

_"Systems Alliance marines, don't move!" she barked immediately, not moving from the doorway as she trained her weapon solely on him, "Step away from the bed and put your hands behind your head."_

_"First Lieutenant Susan Rizzi," he drawled, turning to face her, but not putting his hands up or moving an inch from the bed itself, simply dropping the heat sink down onto its padded surface, "I honestly thought they would send Captain Ryder to deal with me. A shame."_

_"Ryder's been discharged, you know that," Susan retorted, still not moving, "I'm not here for chit chat, Leng. I'm bringing you in."_

_"Are you now?" he smirked._

_"Don't make this difficult, Leng," she spat, clearly disgusted at the man before her. He had no doubt that she wanted very desperately to empty her carbine straight into his face, but protocol restrained her from doing so, and N7s were perfect masters and mistresses of restraint, "What you've done...it can't even be quantified. I'd put a bullet in you know, but the Alliance wants you alive. Come quietly and this doesn't have to end in further bloodshed."_

_"I don't think so," Leng cooed, crossing his arms, "The Alliance will disavow me. I'll be made an example of. Those cowards are too busy sucking the Council's cock to even admit that they once heralded me as a hero."_

_"Leng, if you don't come with me..." Susan stated, ignoring his statement, "They're sending-"_

_The door to the lounge room blasted open, a blurred form erupting from its entrance to immediately point a turian-made Banshee assault rifle at him. He could immediately tell this new arrival wasn't human, as they had a pair of mandibles, black and white facepaint, and a beady, bird-like carapace. They wore black armor, and stood with a pose that came with years of combat experience. The turian didn't hesitate._

_"You may stand down Lieutenant, this is Spectre business now," the turian ordered._

_A Spectre? How cute. They really do deem me to be a threat._

_"You said we'd handle this together, Kryik," Susan replied, identifying the turian by name, "He's a threat to Alliance security as much as he is a threat to you. We'll take him in together."_

_Nihlus Kryik sighed, mandibles twitching ever so slightly. Then, just like that, he relented, "Very well," he turned back to Leng, mandibles set in a firm line. He didn't glare at him, viewing the marine as simply another target to bring in, "This'll go two ways, human. Either you turn yourself in peacefully, and you walk away in cuffs. Or you try and fight, and you walk away bruised and beaten. Either way, you will come with us. Save yourself the humiliation."_

_Leng would never surrender to alien scum. Never._

_"Just try it, bird," he snarled, turning his full attention to the turian, "Perhaps I'll be the one to toss you in a lake next. Perhaps you found that little asari I left as a token of my esteem? I hope you get sick and die from her rotting corpse. You'll never-"_

_He stuttered as he heard a loud bang, followed by a sting in the back of his neck. Reaching up to grab at the intruding presence, he pulled it away, wincing as it was torn from his skin. He looked down at it, and sneered._

_A tranquilizer dart._

_He whirled in an instant, glaring daggers at Susan, who had been the one to fire the shot. But that was perhaps the worst decision he could have made, his sudden movement only making the dizzying effect ten times worse. He tripped over himself as he fell, his head clipping the side of the head as he tumbled, hitting the ground on his stomach. He felt a foot land on his back, pinging him down._

_It was three-toed, and armoured._

_"You will pay for what you've done here, human. We will not forget this."_

_Leng just smiled. He hoped they wouldn't. The dark consumed him, and he was helpless to resist it._

_Suddenly, it felt like he wasn't lying on his front anymore: rather, he could feel as if he was actually on his back. He willed his eyes to open, and they did not resist._

_Now he_ _**definitely** _ _didn't remember this. He was in the captain's cabin on the Deliverance, standing at the threshold between the upper level and the lower level. Everything was exactly as he remembered it: not a thing was out of place. However, as he stood up to gain his bearings, he realized that he was no longer in any form of Alliance attire or armor. Instead, he wore the jet black and gold armor of his stature as an assassin within Cerberus, real-time data and information streaming infront of his eyes from his cybernetic eye implants. He groaned, standing up as he felt at his back for some kind of weapon, finding his trusty sword yielding to his grip as he unsheathed it by instinct._

_He didn't know why he was here, why he had taken this particular memory to unsurface. All the others had a purpose. His introduction to his drill instructor. His work on Entiyon. His torture during Operation BUZZARD. His massacre and attempted assassination on the Citadel. What was special about this? Why had he chosen this particular mem-_

_Something stirred on the bed, catching his attention. He heard a moan, but it wasn't out of lust or passion...it was out of pain. Somebody was waking up, struggling on the comfortable film of the bed sheets they rested on, and were beginning to realize where they were. He focused all his attention on them, and felt his eyes widen in surprise...and joy._

_The form on the bed didn't seem to notice him yet, too busy focusing on their right arm, which seemed to be hanging limply next to them. Taking advantage of this, he slowly advanced down the small steps into the main bedroom, his face glowing bright blue from the giant fish tank mounted in the leftmost wall. It was here that he noticed just what a complete mess the room was._

_The wardrobe on the left was sprung open, clothes and armor scattered across the floor haphazardly. Bedsheets were flung across the small table on the far right, which was toppled over, one of its legs snapped off. The couch was potmarked with bullet holes, fluff and torn leather lying all over the place. The display case for ship models was shattered, bits of glass having showered all over the couch below it, the snapped spine of a Reaper ship model splayed across the floor, joined by numerous other, indescribable models of other well known vessels._

_He didn't steady his advance, continuing to stalk his prey even as they were oblivious to his progression. He stopped at the foot of the bed, his shadowing falling over their struggling body, and in that moment, they fell still, finally having realized that he was upon them. They turned from the limb they had been so focused on, eyes meeting Leng's in an instant. They must have seen his sword._

_Bright silver eyes met his behind their visor, and they froze in terror._

_He only now noticed that the limb they had been focusing on...well, it was non-existent. Where the arm had met the elbow was now amputated, leaving a bloody stump where red blood ocassionally spurted out. It must have been recent, as his prey seemed to be in the early stages of shock, the pain having not fully registered yet. The amputated appendage lay on the floor, motionless three fingered hand lying completely still, soaked in the blood of its former handler._

_There was a whimper, and his prey crawled back, recovering from their shock in time to begin reacting out of fear._

_He had savoured this moment long enough. He knew this wasn't a memory, but that hardly mattered. It felt real, and that's all that mattered._

_He crawled up onto the mattress, grabbing at his secondary combat knife: the same hooked blade he had commandeered all those years ago. He raised his arm and, quick as lightning, felt it descend and bite into flesh within seconds. The bitch screamed in pain as it ruptured her femoral artery, pinning her to the bed temporarily as it went through the calf of her right leg. More blood followed the injury, and he slowly advanced forward as the quarian ceased struggling._

_"Ssssshhhhh..." he whispered, grinning from ear to ear, "Do not resist, you little suit-rat bitch. I'll make your death quicker if you just let me."_

_She continued to resist, her unmaimed leg raising to prepare a powerful kick to his face. He saw the attack coming from a mile away._

_She didn't even see the blur his sword made as it sliced upwards, right through her left ankle. Such was the force of the amputation that her foot literally flew into the air, taking with it a gush of red mist, staining his face and allowing him to watch as it rolled onto the floor, the quarian's stump blowing hot red essence onto the bed sheets, soaking them completely._

_There was a low groan, her voice hoarse as she lost her voice, having screamed her throat raw. He chuckled as he ripped the combat knife from her leg, watching more blood spurt out: due to the hooked blade, ripping it out did even more damage to the limb, tearing away tendons and popping veins on its brutal exit. Crawling ever so torturously forward, he found himself finally at head level with the quarian._

_Her eyes had turned into slits, likely from the quarian becoming dizzy as her blood pressure decayed at an alarming rate from all the blood she had lost, not to mention the amount of suit ruptures allowing bacteria and germs to assault her body with a cyclone of sicknesses. She whimpered, her eyes locking with his, but having now lost the will to fight him as her defenses were beaten and broken._

_He enjoyed his victory, sneering down at the alien whore as he fed on her trepidation, "I've waited a long time for this. To watch you mewl as I kill your suit-rat loving husband, before I kill you. I imagined many ways of killing you, but this...I'll take what I can get. Is there any last words you'd like to say? Perhaps...I told you so?"_

_The quarian said nothing. She just stared blankly at him._

_He swore he heard weeping behind him, but he chose to ignore it, all his focus on the quarian before him._

_He shrugged, sighing sarcastically, "Oh well. Guess I'll suffice for this."_

_He then drove the dagger straight into her chest, handle deep._

_There was a jolt, her body shuddering at the sudden intrusion. A gasp, followed by silence, the quarian having slowly succumbed. He ripped the blade out, and descended again, hearing a crunch as her ribcage collapsed from the blow. There was a wheeze, followed by a cough, Leng watching as a smear suddenly appeared on the inside of her visor, followed by many more. She was coughing up blood...when he crushed her ribcage, one of them must have pierced a lung._

_He grinned, and descended again. Another crunch, the quarian jolting again. Another stab, another crunch, but she had stopped moving. And another. And another. And another. And_ _**another** _ _._

_She had long since stopped moving, and at his point, he left the dagger to rest inside her chest. The silver eyes behind her mask were wide open, but were gazing blinklessly at the ceiling. He was tempted to rip her mask off so that he could spit on her face, but he had somehow decided this was enough. To see his dagger buried in her chest, his archnemesis' wife dead before him._

_He heard a rumble, the sound of sheets shifting...and then a thud._

_He finally turned, frowning...only for his grin to widen even further._

_Beside the desk, lying on the ground, was the one man he hated more than anything else. He must have been lying on the couch before, because he was now suddenly on the ground, hand pathetically grasping the carpet in front of him as if he had the intention to pull himself forward, the sheet that had been tossed on the table having fallen over him as he accidentally pulled on it._

_He stepped off the bed, slowly approaching the man's crippled form. He was more of a mess than his late wife...One eye had popped, allowing him a clear view of what lay behind it, the liquid oozing down his cheek. The other eye was fused shut from bruising, while it looked like he had lost all his teeth. One of his arms was completely missing, his shirt was torn, allowing him to see a litany of cuts and bruises along his muscled abdomen. His legs hung limply behind him, indicating to Leng they were broken...a thought later confirmed by the white bone that was jutting out of the back of his thigh. He made no sound except the one that mattered to Leng the most. The one that was music to his ears._

_He was weeping. Crying. He even swore he heard him muttering his late wife's name, as if that would bring her back._

_"T-...li..." he muttered, coughing up a glob of blood and spitting it onto the carpet, moaning with an egregiously awful sounding rasp, "Don't...I...for you..."_

_He couldn't help but crouch behind the pathetic figure, nudging him with a boot, "You are truly disgusting, Shepard. I'll tell you this: your wife died just as I knew she would. Crying like a scared little schoolgirl. She fought rather pathetically in the end. I enjoyed driving my knife through her sternum, watching her cough up blood..."_

_He moaned again, but he did nothing to fight back. That had clearly been whipped out of him._

_"Just..." he gargled, coughing._

_"Just what?" Leng smirked, nudging him again, "What do you want, Shepard?"_

_"...kill me," he muttered, "Please..."_

_"Hmmmm...well, since you asked so_ _**nicely** _ _..." he grinned, gripping the back of Shepard's head and yanking it back, allowing him to look directly into the man's one remaining eye, "You'll join your bitch soon, Shepard. And when you do, remember that it was Kai Leng who sent you there. The Illusive Man sends his regards."_

_He let the man's head drop, pulling his hand back long enough for him to stand up fully, reared and ready. His ninjato was clenched firmly in his right hand, the nigh-unbreakable alloy glinting in the radiant lighting of the fish tank. There was wet blood still sliding down the edge, glowing sinisterly with the blue glow. He looked down, and gulped down the view of Shepard's broken and beaten body, his remaining eye pleading him for respite, his will finally destroyed._

_He tasted copper on his tongue. That glistening white itch was beginning to fall behind his retinas again. He realized that he needed to do this now, before the moment was torn from him. He picked up his blade, readied it above his head and swung it downwards._

_The last thing he saw was Shepard's head rolling under the bed, a geyser of blood erupting into Leng's face, obscuring his vision._

_The bright white light consumed him once more, but this time, it was unyielding. It did not melt away to dump him into another memory or hypothetical scenario...instead, it remained where it was, burning his retinas, unable to close his eyes to the onslaught. He was confused, annoyed...the dream he had was so good, so surreal...it had felt_ _**real** _ _. Like he had killed Shepard and his quarian whore. He had felt good to chop his head off and stab his wife to death before his eyes. It soothed his soul, helping him to forget his previous def-_

_Of course._

_By the time he had come to the conclusion that he was not entering another memory in his dream-like state, it was too late. The white light intensified, and then died, and Leng felt every nerve in his body roaring back to life, their previous numbness forgotten._

"Wait, I'm getting a spike in...Leng, he's waking up!"

And the assassin was waking up with a vengeance.

Like a live wire, he shot up from the bed, hand going with it. He immediately felt flesh fold underneath his fingertips, and he clenched down. There was a choking sound, a cough, a plea for him to stop. He turned to the sound, finding the face of the man he hated, the man he despised. Marcus Shepard continued to cough and splutter as Leng's grip began to close around his windpipe, the man offering little fight as his oesophagus was slowly crushed, air driven from his lungs, eyes nearly popping from his skull. The man's heavy stubble and black hair were unmistakable.

"Leng...stop...not...your enemy...," Shepard wheezed, "You're not...you've just woken up...you're on the...the..."

Leng ignored him, soaking in his surroundings. He immediately knew where he was: a medical bay, the sterile white walls and white lighting, combined with the rows of beds, giving away its purpose. Given that Shepard was squirming in his clenched hand, he had to assume he was on the  _Normandy_ , somehow taken prisoner. But then his eyes landed on the writing that adorned the adjacent wall.

CAW  _Deliverance_ SR-1.

Confused, he turned back to the man in his grip, and froze.

Gone was the heavy stubble, replaced by a limp looking goatee. Gone was his black hair, replaced by shining, bald head. His broad shoulders dissolved into meekhood, losing their strength. By the end, the man he had grasped under his death grip was not Shepard, but a much friendlier face.

He released Doctor Waycross, the doctor heaving as a burst of air was suddenly allowed to fill his lungs again. He fell back to his desk, hands coming around his throat as if to knead the raw skin there, of which there were likely to be bruises from Leng's cybernetically enhanced clamp. The assassin showed no sympathy towards the man, more disappointed that he had seen an apparition of Shepard rather than the real thing.

"Tell Captain Banes I am awake," Leng ordered, rolling himself up so that he sat on the edge of the base, facing Waycross. Nothing had been taken off of him, his armor remaining where it was, his sword lying against the desk. He picked it up and immediately sheathed it, finding that his range of movement wasn't restricted, and it didn't ache. Every one of the terrible injuries he had sustained...knitted back together through a combination of Waycross' medical expertise and his limited regenerative abilities.

Waycross turned to him, incredulous, eyes almost bulging out in pain as talking became an exercise in agony, "What is...wrong...with you!? I'm...you shouldn't...treat me...like this!"

 _Be happy I didn't snap your neck._ But he didn't need to say that, simply grinning at Waycross, "Be gleeful, doc. Your medical professionalism has put me back together, and now I'm ready to return to my duties."

The doctor meekly nodded, Leng's venomous grin intimidating Waycross into turning away from him, worried about the consequences of further provoking the assassin. He tapped at his terminal, continuing to wheeze painfully, "Inform Captain Banes...that Leng...he's awake."

Leng grinned, and brought back the memory of that final dream. The one where he killed Shepard and his alien. Oh, how he wish he could do that. To finally kill the man who had atrophied his life. Had taken the destiny he rightfully deserved.

And he would. No matter what it took, he would. Shepard would pay, and he would make sure of that. He would never give up until he turned that dream into reality.

**"The final battle for Omega. It was quite the fireworks display, from what I hear. 'Omega Liberation Day' is still celebrated on Alpha. I believe it just had its seventieth anniversary."**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Alpha?"**

**Marcus L. Shepard.**

**"Omega's...changed. Quite a bit. You'd hardly recognize it."**

**\- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"So tell us...we've all heard the legend. What exactly happened that fateful day?"**

**\- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"A whole lot and more."**

**\- Marcus L. Shepard.**

_**A/N:** _

_**...annnndddddddd you know what that means! ANOTHER MULTI-PART CHAPTER!** _

_**You'll all be happy to know that the next three chapters will mark the conclusion of the Omega arc...finally. However, only the first two will really cover the events of the DLC's ending, as the third part will be more of an "aftermath". After that...well, that's spoilers!** _

_**Shout out to Rob Sears for the FABT references in his recent chapter for the Quantum Error: Patriarch! Much appreciated!** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	75. Fight for Omega, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uprisings across Omega divide Cerberus attention from the front. Grunt attacks a vital Cerberus air field providing air support to their troops along the Hades Line. Shepard's team bypasses the front to head straight for Afterlife.

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN:**

**FIGHT FOR OMEGA PART ONE**

_August 7, 2186_

_1138 hours._

_Abrams & Heplorn Clinic, Gozu District, The Apex, Omega._

_Second War for Omega._

_Doctor Daniel Abrams._

Daniel sighed, rubbing his temples as he read over the contents of the datapad infront of him. He had only just checked into the clinic an hour ago, his shift set to begin at 1030 hours every day, like clockwork. But that hadn't stopped his secretary from bombarding him with medical reports and appointment notifications the moment he walked through the door, the salarian's chipper attitude and ecstatic smile never failing to cheer up Daniel. Still, the amount of work he was laden with had certainly turned his day into another...what did he constantly call it?

Another day on the job.

It hadn't been a great trip to the clinic, either. His apartment was only two blocks from the clinic itself, having deliberately sought out housing close to his workplace so he could get there quickly: it meant he didn't need to leave all that early. Despite this however, he had been held up by a squad of Cerberus soldiers, who were now performing random checks on civilians for weapons, and Daniel had been unfortunate to be caught in their crosshairs. Funnily enough, Cerberus hadn't done this for several months: back when the Talon resistance was at its height, and heavy Talon activity swept through the Gozu district. The Talons had quickly withdrawn nearly a week in, or so Cerberus had thought, a few Talon sleeper agents left behind to keep an eye on the enemy behind their lines.

But now the random checks had begun again, and Daniel had to wonder whether or not it was in response to the UGC invasion. Were they winning? Cerberus seemed to think so, or otherwise they wouldn't be performing these random checks. And the type of check was different depending on the CO who ordered it performed: whether it be a simple patdown, or in unfortunate cases, a full strip search...and they didn't always wait for a private room before stripping an Omega citizen clean of their clothing. Thankfully, Cerberus weren't entirely brutal, only using force when citizens resisted, which was rare. They'd long since been conditioned against fighting back, knowing what consequences would be brought upon them if they did.

Luckily for Daniel, his search was a simple patdown, and they found nothing on him that would arouse their suspicion any further: he was allowed to leave, but his more paranoid side could have sworn one of them was watching him intently as he walked away. Yet again, it may have been due to the intensity of how he left: quick, long strides, the fast walk of someone who was desperate to distance themselves from whatever law enforcement they came across. Someone who had something to hide.

Suffice to say, he didn't look back, practically all but running to the clinic.

And now here he was, seated at his desk, reading over the third of the medical reports given to him. And the more he read over it, the worse he felt. There was no shortage of bad news on this station, but this one was far more personal. More deeply connected to his sense of individual performance.

He grew frustrated as he neared the end of the report, knuckles clenching around the datapad, skin becoming a pale white. Before he could break it, he dropped the pad, leaning back in his seat and exhaling explosively, hands clasped on his lap as he looked blankly at the wall next to him. The seat creaked as he leaned back in it, its spine not built to withstand leaning that far back. Before it could break, he leaned forward again, once again rubbing at his temple anxiously.

_Dr. Beavter died of a heart attack last night...damn it, should have checked him into the hospital sooner. They could have done something..._

Daniel had known this was going to happen. Even Mr. Beavter himself knew this was going to happen. But he hadn't expected it to occur so soon...his condition must have deteriorated worse than he thought. He didn't bother trying to call his family: no doubt they would blame him for his death or, perhaps even worse, believe it wasn't his fault. That he was somehow innocent of any wrong doing. But he wasn't. He had ignored the signs, promised Mr. Beavter time he didn't have. And now it had cost him dearly. He had collapsed at the wheel of his skycar on the way home, and before anyone could do anything...

Perhaps it was both lucky and unlucky that Mr. Beavter had taken out a Cerberus M35 Mako in his death, his vehicle having descended before Cerberus knew what was happening. The fuel tank was ruptured on impact, and the explosion had torn both vehicles asunder, leaving nothing remaining of Mr. Beavter's body. Still, the convenience of it made Daniel wonder if the attack had been deliberately planned. The official autopsy ruled it as a heart attack at the wheel...but the proximity of his skycar to a Cerberus motor pool had been far too coincidental to ignore.

_Why was he flying so close to the Cerberus militarized zone? His home is in the opposite direction to the Apex, in the Styx quadrant._

Daniel began to wonder if perhaps Mr. Beavter's awareness of his ultimate fate had driven him to commit one last spiteful act. To spit in the face of his Cerberus oppressors, the ones who had recruited one of his daughters into their army. One last act of vengeance, however little impact the destruction of one IFV had on the larger Cerberus forces at play. If that was true, then Daniel was solely responsible for the man's death, and thus was not innocent at all.

_But how the hell was I to know he would do that? There's a chain of reasonable thought. I assumed Mr. Beavter would want to say goodbye to his family. How could I be expected to know he would fly his skycar into a military vehicle? He never struck me as the type..._

It hardly mattered now: a man was dead. Perhaps more importantly, one of his patients. And in that instant, his eyes widened, sitting up ramrod straight.

_Oh no...what if Cerberus concludes this attack was deliberate, as I just did? No doubt if a simple doctor made this conclusion, professional military forensics will think the same. And what if they make the connection between patient and doctor...and conclude that Daniel..._

He slowly turned to his desk, finding himself frozen in place and unable to move. Terror gripped his nerves, and he found he was now far more aware of his heart beat, the constant  _thump thump thump_ in his chest far more apparent.  _I mean, it would make sense. Some doctor with Talon sympathies utilizes a dying man to commit an act of terror on Cerberus troops. Its been done in the past. Some poor kid finds himself in the hands of religious 'freedom fighters', and the next thing you know, they're blowing themselves up under some tank._

If this was true, he had no idea what to do. With Mr. Beavter dead, he had no one to corroborate his innocence. Cerberus had no idea he was involved with the Talons yet, but it wouldn't be a stretch to say they'd likely do their research on him, find out about his consistent and daily outings to the local store, and then everything would go to shit. Soldiers would be sent to his door, he'd be arrested and they'd haul him off to some interrogation room, never to be seen again.

He found himself remembering that fateful moment a year ago, back when the plague had ravaged the Gozu district and the Blue Suns and Blood Pack were spilling each other's blood over it. He remembered the desperate look of the batarian who grabbed him, his putrid breath feeling his nostrils, the man's disgusting, bedraddled look enough to make him wince. Those batarians had intended to kill him, unaware that he wanted to cure them, not spread the plague. If it hadn't been for the timely arrival of Commander Shepard...

But Shepard would not, could not, rescue him this time. And he wasn't dealing with desperate, irrational thinking batarian refugees...he was dealing with a ruthless pro-human supremacist group.

He found his hands scrambling across his desk frantically, looking for something. Even as he looked for it, he wasn't quite sure what he was looking for. Datapads were knocked aside, some falling off his small desk entirely, and one hand shot out too quickly, knocking his lamp clean off the desk to hit the ground loudly. He cursed at the sound, knowing it'd likely attract attention. He threw open draws, notes and datapads crashing everywhere as she soon became desensitized to the noise he was making, no longer caring. Whatever he was looking for, he needed it.

And then he found it. Sitting near the edge, toppled on one side from his panicked throes, grinning upward at him with a cocked head. He picked up the figurine, his thumb resting ontop of Commander Shepard's plastic face. It dawned on him just how selfish he was being. He had forgotten about the one group of people who were in the most danger.

His family. His wife, and his five-year-old son. Damn it, how could he have been so blind?

_I need to warn them! If I leave and Cerberus looks for me, my family are the first people they'll look for. I need to make sure they're safe. I'll go to our apartment, gather our things. Go to my wife's store, my child's school...I'll pick them up, and we'll get the hell out of here. If we're lucky, we might be able to reach the UGC, if I can find a way around the forcefields. They'll protect us, surely. That's why they're here!_

He still couldn't believe just how stupid he had been...so sloppy! Maelon had warned him that working with the Talons would spell doom for him, but he hadn't realized just how deep the rabbit hole went. Out of all things that he'd slip up on, it had to be a patient's actions that he had no control over...stupid.  _So stupid!_

_I could ask Maelon for help: he is ex-STG, after all. Damn it, but would he even help me? He said he didn't want to get involved. Surely he'd be willing to put that to the side to help me? Would he be capable of that? To simply brush me off like I'm collateral? I mean, he is former STG...he'd know when to pick up a gun and when to turn the other cheek. Damn it...is there noone who can help me!?_

He had really dug his grave this time.

Well, he knew for a fact that if he just stayed here he was guaranteed to die. Action figurine still in hand, he grasped it tightly before pocketing it, quickly opening up his terminal as he prepared to message his family. He typed up a quick message, short and sweet, knowing he would need to be blunt. Ensuring it was sent straight to his wife's exmail address, he sent it, quickly deactivating his terminal as he did, making sure it had completely shut down before switching off the screen. His attention then turned to the many draws of his desk that lay at his feet, exactly where he had left them in his hurried frenzy. He picked through them, taking what medications he knew he would need or possibly need and leaving the rest. As for the medications for non-humans, he left those where they were.

He opened his omni-tool, quickly performing a check on his chronometer. It was 1140 hours, just a few seconds off being exact. That gave him a few minutes at the very least to pack what he needed and get to his apartment. Of course, it was arouse suspicion almost immediately that he had only just arrived an hour ago, and was suddenly leaving for home again, but it was his hope that by the time Cerberus realized what was wrong, he'd be long gone. Now he just had to figure out how to actually get to UGC controlled territory.

_I've got a skycar, so that shouldn't be too big a problem. The forcefields only really stop ground vehicles and citizens on foot from travelling between districts. Only individuals deemed important enough to be allowed skycars are given access to them anyway. Mr. Beavter was allowed one due to his age, so obviously Cerberus didn't see the point in prohibiting him from using one. As for me...well, being a doctor has its privledges. So the forcefields won't be a problem...what about their air patrols? No doubt they'll dispatch a gunship once they realize what I'm trying to do. They'll shoot me down. And if that doesn't get me, they'll probably have missiles or something._

On that, he would just have to improvize. He had little choice in the matter. This situation had come completely out of left field. He probably should have had a continegency laid out for this exact predicament at some point, but he'd never gotten around to it. What was it that Maelon always said?

_Always expect trouble. Some STG mantra or something. Should have bloody listened, you fool. I was working with rebels...I should have known Cerberus would find out eventually. They always find out. They have spies everywhere, just like the Talons._

Yet again, its likely Cerberus  _still_ didn't know about his activities. Hell, it wasn't even a full blown conclusion to say that they would find him guilty of being a colloborator. It was just his paranoid gut feeling that they would connect Mr. Beavter's final act of suicidal homicide with the fact that he was a former patient of one Dr. Daniel Abrams. He had to assume that's the conclusion they would reach. So perhaps this  _was_ his continegency...

_Its not a very good one, Abrams. I'm a doctor, not a bloody secret agent! I can't just drop everything when a cover's blown! This is my life. This is what I do! Stupid idiot, should have thought this through my more thoroughly! If I had been more careful perhaps...yet again, hard to really prepare yourself for a patient gone terrorist. If only my wife knew what I've gotten myself into..._

His stupidity had put her in danger. Put his five-year-old son in danger. Reckless, stupid, irrational...

_Damn the Talons for getting me involved. Damn them all to hell!_

Maybe he'd get lucky...perhaps there was a stray chance he could ask for Petrovsky's leniency directly. To request clemency in exchange for giving them information on Talon operatives. Locations of their sleeper agents. Yes, Cerberus would be very grateful for that information. Perhaps then, only and then, would they let him live. Allow him to return to his life.

_What a cowardly way to go. My family will be safe, but I will have become a Cerberus colloborator. I'll have sold out the Talons...and for what? So I can live? So my family can live? What kind of selfish, irresponsible, self-contained little thought process._

_I'm no hero. I'm no martyr. I'm not going to die for them. I'm not going to sacrifice my family for them. I'm not Commander bloody Shepard. I can't be expected to put aside my personal life for the bigger picture. It doesn't work like that._

_Stupid. Naive. Looks like I haven't changed much from when I worked under Mordin. Still the same naive little man who thinks he can save the world. Forget the Talons. Focus on your family. Besides, there's absolutely no indication that Cerberus would let you live. What if he lets one of his governors handle it?_ He shudders to think what would happen if Colwood got her hands on him. He's heard about the things she does to captured rebel sympathisizers. The screams. The dead bodies.

No, he couldn't allow Cerberus to capture him. There was simply no promise that they would offer him any kind of mercy other than that offered by a bullet to the head. He had to keep this discreet, strictly on a need-to-know basis to stop the pro-human group from finding out for as long as possible...until it was too late for them to do anything to stop him. Once he was in UGC territory...he was convinced he'd be safe. Then he'd meet Shepard again, tell him about the things he's done...he'd understand. Surely, he'd understand?

Gripped with fear, he stepped up from behind his desk, grabbing the backpack that lay next to his desk and stuffing whatever medication he could fit straight into one of its back pockets. He fiddled with the steel thermus next to him, sipping away at the last dregs of coffee that were contained in its depths. He slammed it back down, rather loudly if he was to chastize himself, and he continued slipping necessary items into his bag. Once he was sure he had filled it to capacity, he roughly sealed the zip, groaning as he lifted up the heavy item as he slung it over one shoulder, feeling the combined weight sag against his shoulder, causing it to ache briefly. He ignored it, pushing through it to sling the other arm over his other shoulder, before quickly checking the rest of his desk for anything else remotely important. He retrieved the stray credit chit lying on the aged surface, noting the amount of money on it.

_2,000 credits._

He slipped it into his pocket, his attention brought back to the action figurine that was now situated there. He grabbed at it, squeezing it, closing his eyes as he let it reassure him. Everything was going to be fine. He was going to be fine. His family would be fine. He would go home, get them out of nowhere, and safety would be just on the horizon. They'd be gone before Cerberus could dispatch a team to 'pick him up for questioning'.

Turning, he swung towards the door at the front of his room, prepared to storm out of the clinic.

But then the green haptic interface evaporated before he could even reach out to tap it, the door sliding apart to reveal the form of a lone salarian standing poised in the doorway, clearly intending to speak with them. His white labcoat was rumpled slightly, but was otherwise clean. Big beady eyes locked with Daniel's instantly, emanating a look of surprise. Clearly, he hadn't expected his colleague to be leaving so early.

Maelon, being a salarian, recovered quite quickly from his surprise, "Dr. Abrams... _Daniel_...where exactly are  _you_ going in such a hurry?"

Daniel could have sworn he detected  _smugness_ in the salarian's tone. Was he hearing things? Is this what paranoia did to the senses? If not, how did Maelon find out? Or is this just his keen STG mind coming into play?  _With enough deductive reasoning, I'm sure he could probably put two-and-two together. After all, it wasn't too long ago that we had this conversation to begin with. Regarding the Talons._

He nodded, wiping at his forehead. Already giving away visible cues to the salarian, "I'm...going home. I, uh...don't feel so well."

To no one's surprise, Maelon stepped forward into the room, entirely unconvinced. The door shut behind him with a hiss, the locking mechanism clicking into place as the haptic interface reappeared, "Your face isn't flushed and nor do you look pale. If anything, you look...may I say it, Dr. Abrams? From one academic to another?"

Daniel exhaled exasperatingly, dropping the act.  _He knows. Of course he damn well knows_ , "You don't have to say 'I told you so', Maelon. I know I screwed up. I just need to get out of here before everything goes to hell."

To his credit, Maelon didn't smile. Obviously he understood Daniel's panic, "I warned you what would happen if you continued to colloborate with the Talons, Daniel."

"I know, alright!?" he barked, taking himself by surprise. It was apparent that he was more terrified than he initially thought, his blood pressure likely spiking from the amount of fear that was running through him at this moment, "I know! But right now, that doesn't  _matter_! Cerberus will be after me soon, and I need to get away! I'm going home, to grab my family!"

Maelon just shrugged, crossing his arms, "And then what? You're going to run? They have forcefields all over the station. Where would you run to?"

"The UGC," he blurted out immediately, "I have a skycar. I can be within their territory in minutes, if I hurry."

"They'd have you shot down before you could even leave the Apex," Maelon dispassionately pointed out, "You'd never get close. We're in the heart of Cerberus territory, Daniel. They could have four missiles tracking you before your skycar reached its maximum velocity."

His fellow doctor's pessimism, or rather his realism, was beginning to grate on Daniel's nerves. He needed hope, not more dread, "I'll make do. Maybe they won't detect me. Maybe I'll escape before they can get a lock on."

The salarian sighed, rubbing at one of his cranial horns, "Daniel, there is very little chance of that. Let me reiterate:  _we are in the heart of Cerberus territory._ Every single AA gun in the area is going to be on the lookout for unidentified aircraft. Do you really think they're going to miss one skycar leaving their zone at high speed? Even if you fly low to avoid their radar, troops on the ground will spot you. And I think a single tank or rocket launcher will suffice to put you down."

He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, but Daniel them against his sleeve, refusing to allow the salarian to see him getting emotional. His heart was pounding, blood in his ears as sheer trepidation consumed him. He wanted to cry out, to pound his fists on the desk...he even had the brief violent tendency to punch Maelon in the face. But he didn't act on any of these tendencies, simply looking back at his colleague with nothing but pure desperation, "I...don't...I don't have...any options, Maelon. This...this is it. I've screwed up. I stay here, I die. I make a run for it, I'll die. What am I supposed to do?"

Maelon's eyes seemed to scan his face for a moment, as if trying to analyze the ups-and-downs of trying to help his human compatriot. Finally, he straightened up, standing away from Daniel's desk as his hands fell to his sides, "Cerberus is a pro-human supremacist group. I'm sure they'll go easy on you, being human yourself."

"That doesn't stop them from waging war on the Alliance!" Daniel spat back, lips quivering as he found his resolve falling apart. The bag's weight became more prominent, a constant drag on his sanity. He dropped the insipid distraction onto the desk, hearing it land with a loud thud. His legs felt weak, but he wasn't ready to collapse yet, holding his position firm and steady. He fixed Maelon with as firm a glare he could muster, which wasn't much, "Let's face it Maelon, they're going to kill me! And my family...oh god...my wife, my little boy...they'll kill them too! And there's...its all my fault..."

Maelon seemed entirely unsympathetic, "You're scared."

_Yeah, no shit, Maelon. I guess with all your fancy special forces training you've got nothing to worry about. You could just shoot your way out. Not to mention you salarians don't have any concept of love or family. Reproduction is treated as a obligatory contract, not as a consummation of passion. He doesn't have a wife or a child he particularly cares about. How the hell could he know how I feel? I'm just a doctor. A useless doctor who couldn't even fight off a bunch of scared batarians with guns. What could I possibly do against soldiers?_

_I'm a coward. No way around it._

He remained silent, which was Maelon's cue to speak up again, the salarian clearing his throat, although he doubted he needed to do it for anything but simply catching Daniel's attention, "I...may be able to help you. That's  _if_ I was willing to help you."

He froze, his full attention now firmly fixed on Maelon, his eyes full of hope as he felt his shivering cease for a brief moment, "You...would?"

Maelon nodded, "You created this mess for yourself, so don't expect any sympathy from me on that point. But...I do have a safehouse under my apartment. Had it built after Mordin and the STG practically exiled me to Omega. Guess my old paranoia from my work in those days forced me to think radically. I've made many enemies with my work, most of them krogan, so I needed a quick getaway. Luckily, Cerberus knows nothing about it," he rubbed one of his horns again, the act making him look embarassed, "You're welcome to stay there with your family...at least until this blows over. After that...I'm sure the UGC will be able to help you."

"You'd do that?" Daniel asked, completely flabbergasted. He wouldn't say that Maelon was his enemy: not at all. They had a healthy working relationship, and both of them had worked for Mordin at one point or another, so they naturally gravitated towards each other. But their relationship was purely on the professional level: two academics meddling in the medical sciences, combining their skills to help the sickly and needy of Omega's slums. They weren't enemies, but by no means were they going to stick their necks out for each other. This act of charity from Maelon was...surprising, to say the least.

The salarian shifted slightly, but his eyes never left Daniel's, "You are my partner. Cerberus will no doubt come to me next when they find out you've gone missing. I'll be a suspect, but considering they know nothing of my safehouse, any investigation with me involved won't go much further than that. I've got nothing to lose by helping you."

_Of course. Foolish of me to think he was doing this as a friend. He's looking out for himself. He's worried if they capture me, I'll blab to them about his work with the STG. Then his neck will be next for the noose. Still, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, even if that horse is only looking out for itself in the long run._

He couldn't think of anything to say. Here was this salarian offering him asylum and he was just stuttering like an idiot. Time was of the essence: he didn't have time to fumble around. Despite this, he found his hand reaching out to the salarian, a smile gracing his lips, "Maelon...thank you. You have no idea what this...just,  _thank you_."  _My family. They'll be safe. They'll be alright. We don't have to make a run for it. And who knows? Maybe the UGC will come sooner than we think. Maybe the General will finally be defeated..._

Maelon looked at the offered hand for a few seconds, incredulous. But seeing as Daniel wasn't going to lower his hand until he got what he wanted, the salarian exhaled and wrapped his three-fingered appendage in Daniel's five-fingered one, shaking it before retreating back to his side, "Don't thank me. Just...make it quick. I'll have to text you the lock code for my apartment. I can't be seen with you should the wrong eyes be watching. And I'll text the code via an anonymous extranet address, so they can't trace it back to me."

 _Covering his ass. Can't say I wouldn't do the same._ "Despite what you think Maelon, I'm truly than-"

Suddenly, a loud set of beeps tore through the relatively quiet confines of the reception room outside, piercing through the walls and ringing in both Maelon and Daniel's ears. They both frowned at the odd interruption, and for a brief moment, Daniel thought Cerberus had arrived and he was too late to escape. Shoving this thought down, he followed Maelon through the door as they went to see what the ruckus was all about.

The noise only got louder as the last barrier between its assault was removed, blasting them at full force. His secretary looked concerned as he looked at the vidscreen in the top right corner of the room, which was now blank, the regular Cerberus News Network feeds interrupted and replaced with a band of blue across the screen: it was then he realized the grating noise was coming from the vidscreen itself. Numerous patients waiting outside Maelon's office also frowned, looking at Daniel and Maelon for an explanation for the noise.

Daniel walked up to his secretary, leaning down so that he could be heard over the cacophony, "What the hell is this!?"

The salarian shrugged, looking geniunely confused, "I don't know! Petrovsky was making his address on the CNN when all the feeds just went blank and this...noise started blaring! Its like everything's gone dark! Omni-tools, terminals, vidscreens...they've all gone blank and started making this noise!"

Sure enough, when Daniel went to open his omni-tool, he was quickly greeted by the undesirable screech, causing him to quickly switch it off. Well, he knew for certain this wasn't Cerberus coming to get him, so that was somewhat of a relief. But he couldn't understand exactly why this was happening. Had the feeds been cut deliberately? Were they having problems with the station's comm relays? Had the UGC sabotaged them?

"Perhaps its just a maintenance issue," Maelon piped up, echoing Daniel's thoughts, "This isn't the Citadel. Omega has ancient comm relays, and they aren't usually used this frequently. Its possible Cerberus has finally worn them out."

"Whatever it is, it better stop!" One of the turian patients across the room yelled, talons covering his ears, "Because I'm feeling the need to shoot something!"

Sighing, Daniel leaned back towards his secretary, craning his neck to be heard, "Shut it down! The vidscreen, the terminals, everything! Shut it all down and try and reboot the system! See if that fixes it!"

The salarian heeded his advice, tapping away at the holographic keys on the primary security terminal next to him. After a few moments, he threw up his hands in defeat, entirely vexxed, "Nothing! The entire system is completely unresponsive. Its like I've been locked out!"

Before Daniel could utter another word, the noise suddenly ceased its unending torrent. The room was left in silence, but as he looked up, he could see the vidscreen was still covered in that blue haze, sitting idly and doing nothing. Had Cerberus repaired the feeds? He half expected the words 'technical error' to appear with a golden hexagon to accompany it, confirming to them that this was indeed a maintenance issue.

Instead, a familiar 'O' shaped insignia appeared, with a vertical line struck through it down the middle: the insignia of Omega. It spun lazily across the screen, everyone in the room shocked at having seen the symbol despite its absence for such a long time. It was an insignia that had once covered the station, but it had since been replaced by the golden hexagon representing Cerberus, to cement their hold over Omega. To see it appear again was not only shocking, it was downright terrifying.

_What the hell is this?_

But what the insignia faded away to be replaced by was even more terrifying.

A single white, triple-crowned T, with a red ring around it, the insignia represented more like a hand painted gang sign than a proper flag of a military faction. But it was a gang sign everyone in the room recognized, as it had been painted on many alleyways, streets and buildings. It was one they saw in everyday life, a constant reminder of those who continued to fight for Omega's liberty. Those who opposed Cerberus.

It was the Talons.

The symbol spun lazily for a few moments on the screen and, on a hunch, Daniel opened his omni-tool. As he had correctly surmized, he was greeted by the same symbol, realizing that every vidscreen, omni-tool and terminal had been hacked to distribute the same message. The feeds hadn't failed, and this wasn't a comm relay maintenance issue. They were being hacked.

A few more seconds of near quiet passed, the symbol spinning away as if to taunt them with its presence. Suddenly, just as soon as it appeared, the Talon insignia faded away to reveal the face of a turian female with red facepaint in crimson body armor. She was turned to the screen, already speaking before her audience got a chance to process who they were looking at, "People of Omega, I am General Nyreen Kandros. You've probably heard of me...if you haven't, then allow me to introduce myself as the leader of the Talons. Your liberators. Those who fight Cerberus' regime."

There were hushed whispers among the patients, while Daniel's secretary, as well as Maelon, were now fixing the screen with solemn fixation, Maelon's arms crossed as he regarded the turian speaking on the vidscreen. Outside, the turian's voice could be heard much louder, sounding like an echo. Frowning, he pushed past Maelon and headed for the door exiting the clinic, tapping its interface and shooting out the moment they parted. He found himself frozen to the spot when he was greeted by the sight of the crowded space around him.

More patients waiting outside the clinic, including several walkabouts, were all clustered around in the hallway and watching with rapt focus the vidscreen that hung just outside, Nyreen's face on it being much larger due to the larger screen. He could see the Cerberus soldiers at the security checkpoint were working desperately to find out what was going on, with a combat engineer tapping away at his omni-tool ferociously. Obviously they were just as confused as to what was going on as everybody else was.

Daniel shoved his way through the crowd, grunting as their tightly packed bodies constricted his movements. He shoved his way through a group of batarians, who glared at him briefly before turning back to the screen. He could hear Nyreen speaking again, but he wasn't paying attention, only interested in seeing how far this went. He reached the checkpoint in no time, but was surprised to find Sergeant Gale was missing, with no centurion guarding the outpost, replaced by a pair of assault troopers and what looked to be a dragoon. Funny, he hadn't seen many dragoons in his time here.

Despite wanting to get through, he quickly realized they simply weren't paying attention, their priorities set on trying to figure out what was happening. In that brief moment, Daniel made the rather stupid decision of simply sneaking past them. Stepping one foot in front of the another, taking his time edging past them, he soon found himself on the otherside of the checkpoint, the Cerberus soldiers none the wiser.

_Wow, they really are slacking on the job._

Shrugging, he jogged up the stairs and exited onto the streets of the Gozu district.

 _Woah..._ Daniel stopped as he saw that the crowds on the streets weren't any lighter, their presence having actually intensified now that he was out on the sprawling city streets of the district. Crowds of all species: krogan, turian, salarian, batarian, hanar, elcor, volus, humans...all of them had taken to the streets to observe this unexpected event, the words of the Talon general having them hooked, waiting to see what would happen next. Some Cerbeurs soldiers had even taken an interest themselves, while others moved around in squads, pushing their way through the packed concourse as they barked orders for the crowd to disperse. Some listened and began to walk away...most didn't. Cerberus didn't seem to do much about except to keep yelling. A few guardians were established on each end in case a riot broke out, combat engineers ready to deploy turrets should the situation seriously deteriorate. Seemed like a bit of a overreaction on their behalf.

But then Daniel looked up again, Nyreen's face coming back into focus as he took notice of her words again, "-believes they've won. They have you caged like animals, restricted from having the life that you want. They flash their insignias at you, and promise you food and water if you surrender. I won't lie. Petrovsky's been a kind dictator, as far as those kinds of people go, but is a Cerberus occupation really what you want for Omega? They are a pro-human military!  _Pro-human_. Human interests are always going to take priority. Barely nine percent of this station's total population is human. So why would they occupy Omega, take away your freedoms and liberties, and pretend to be your saviors?"

The turian shook her head, "The Illusive Man wants Omega for its resources. And once he's done with those resources, he will abandon this station as quickly as he took it. Don't be fooled. Cerberus wants you to believe the Talons are your enemy, but that couldn't be further from the truth. We want to see this station returned to its former glory. Petrovsky would see this station choke. He'd rather us sit back and let the Reapers win. Well, no longer. The Talons have fought long and hard, months upon months of fighting in fact, and all of that fighting is reaching its ultimatum. As you've likely all heard, the United Galactic Confederacy has come to our aid. They are fighting Cerberus right now. Petrovsky would have you believe they are losing. That the Tuhi district was a major victory for Cerberus. That's a  _lie._ The UGC has won a great victory, and soon, you will reap the benefits of their triumph. Because their triumph is  _your_ triumph. Do not forget that!"

Cerberus soldiers were removing themselves from the crowds now, finally coming to terms with the fact that their shouting was producing nothing. They were ordered to retreat, their forms breaking through the mass of bodies and forming a line behind the guardian phalanxes that covered each end of the street. Tension was brewing.

Daniel's attention was torn as he watched a krogan smash his fist through a holoposter, the propaganda reel of an angry turian Talon stomping on Omega fizzing out of existence as the krogan's strike destroyed its emitter. Shouts from the crowd itself began to fester: shouts of approval and discontent. Daniel didn't like where this was going, but was unable to tear his eyes off the vidscreen, "And just a few minutes ago, the Talons and the UGC have won the greatest victory of all! Those forcefields, the ones that have kept you locked and caged up? The same forcefields that Cerberus uses to herd you like cattle? My brothers and sisters, those forcefields are  _no more._ Petrovsky's gates and fences have fallen. You have nothing to stop you from seeing your friends and family again. Nothing to stop you from crossing districts. The forcefields have  _fallen_!"

Cheers were heard. Arms waved in the air in support of Kandros, while more posters were smashed and destroyed by unruly citizens. Cries of 'death to Cerberus!' were snarled into the air, followed by 'take Omega back!' Daniel ducked as he saw a stray bottle fly over his head, smashing into a small behind him, glass splinters and brown liquid raining down on the assault trooper the bottle had been aimed at.

Daniel's blood ran cold. He watched the trooper with a look of wide-eyed apprehension.

But the trooper simply bid a hasty retreat, his compatriots following behind as another bottle sailed through the air, missing them by milimeters. They finally merged with the Cerberus phalanx on the rightside of the street, a third bottle hitting the shield of a guardian in full, the glass shattering and scattering as it harmlessly broke upon the shield's surface. Daniel felt relieved he hadn't raised his weapon to shoot, or otherwise they may have had a riot on their hands. Guess Petrovsky had given them explicit orders not to shoot civilians.

Nyreen, undeterred by the violence happening around her, continued, "With the forcefields gone, my forces and the UGC, led by Captain Shepard himself, will be launching our offensive momentarily. I urge that you stay in your homes...do not attempt to fight alongside us! You will only make yourself a target for Cerberus! Protect your families: lock up your homes, do not let anyone inside! The final battle has begun, and you should not be caught in it! I repeat:  _please do not try to aid us._ Even if you think you may be helping, you'll only be making our job harder. Do yourself a favor and hide as best you can! Let the Talons and the UGC liberate Omega. Let us finish the job we started! Cerberus will crumble, we promise you!"

The turian nodded one final time, her eyes focusing on the center of the screen as if to look her audience directly in the eye, "We will take Omega back!"

Moments later, her face disappeared, replaced by the usual spinning Cerberus insignia as the Talon transmission ended, returning control of the feeds to the pro-human regime.

Cheers echoed through the street, their cries causing goosebumps to prickle along Daniel's skin. A slight cold permeated him, and he backed against the wall behind him as he felt his legs weaken. In just a few minutes, his entire situation had gone from 'imminent doom' to 'imminent salvation' in no time flat. It wasn't long ago that he was worried a Cerberus death squad was coming to kill him and his family, and that he needed to reach UGC territory before they did...now, it looked the UGC was going to be coming to him.

He jumped when he heard Maelon's voice behind him, Daniel's head snapping around to see the salarian had followed him, arms crossed, "Looks like Cerberus is going to have bigger problems than one suicidal old man now."

Daniel couldn't formulate a response, simply turning neurotically to face the increasingly aggressive crowd. Their cheers had since downgraded to shouting and growling. Almost every poster in the area had been smashed now, and Daniel could see a salarian using his omni-tool to burn out a Cerberus insignia on one of the nearby walls. He then rushed over to another one, repeating the same process while Cerberus troops simply watched on, entirely helpless to do anything. They simply beat their batons against their shields, guardians edging forward as they urged the crowd to disperse with their belligerent behaviour. Evidently, it wasn't working, the congregation seemingly only getting angrier at the gestures.

"I..." Daniel mumbled, eyes darting back and forth at the scene before him, "I don't...this is..."

"A revolution," Maelon drawled, waving a dismissive wave of his hand. Daniel just turned and frowned at the salarian, who chose to elaborate, "Special Tasks Group has had its fair share of revolutions. Even started a few. Was there for one of them...the 2167 Thun Revolution, I believe. Very interesting. Blue Suns were unable to contain the situation, and the turian military had to step in. Six hundred people died for the riots were contained. The revolution was crushed, and the Blue Suns made Thun their headquarters."

"Do I even want to know what you were doing there?" Daniel asked, his fear temporarily forgotten.

Maelon just shrugged, "Doesn't matter now. What matters is what's happening now, and we're looking at a bloodbath. Situation is quickly deteriorating...next there will be riots. Cerberus will have one soldier who will be unable to restrain themselves...shots will be fired, people will die. And then the riots will begin. The revolution. And we will not want to be here when they do."

Daniel nodded, gulping. He fiddled with his hands, finding himself clueless as to what he needed to do next. Finally, he raised his head to address the salarian, acknowledging that he would need Maelon's help, "Okay, what do you-"

The door behind them suddenly opened, and he watched as the two assault troopers and the combat engineer from the security checkpoint marched out. The engineer seemed to be the commander of the higher ranking of the trio, because he stopped in his tracks suddenly, the two troopers at his flanks stopping with him. The engineer turned to Maelon and Daniel, and he was  _not_ happy.

"What the  _hell_  are you two doing out here?" the engineer snapped, glaring at them both through the golden visor of his helmet, "You should be in the clinic."

"The same reason you are out here," Maelon blurted out, Daniel shooting him a look of shock.  _Is he insane? Pissing off Cerberus is the last thing we want to be doing right now!_

Unsurprisingly, the engineer didn't take kindly to that. He stepped forward until he was right in Maelon's face, staring him down, "You want to say that again, salarian?"

To Daniel's continuing agitation, Maelon didn't shut up, "Certainly. I'm out here for the same reason you are. To see the fun begin."

"That's cute, froggy," the engineer barked, and as Daniel backed away, he noticed with wide eyes as the soldier's hand drifted down to the M-25 Hornet SMG sidearm on his hip. In that moment, Daniel knew the soldier's intention, and he opened his mouth to shout a warning, but it appeared he needn't have bothered.

One moment, the engineer was reaching for a weapon, the next, he stumbled backwards as he screamed in agony. He was confused for a moment at that leap of logic until he saw where Maelon's hand was: hovering infront of his chest, three-fingered hand splayed out with his omni-tool glowing around his wrist.

The engineer shook violently as electricity danced around his armor, reaching every crevice as his systems were overloaded by the salarian's cyber attack. The engineer was so crippled that he didn't even have time to realize that his submachine gun was no longer on his hip, but now firmly in the grip of Maelon, who must have snatched it immediately following his initial attack.

There were two bursts, and two bodies flopped to the ground, holes drilled through their helmets. Blood pooled around the two dead assault troopers, their rifles resting on their chests, never having gotten to fire a shot. The engineer just kept shaking, helpless to defend himself as Maelon now turned the weapon to bear on him.

He pulled the trigger. The engineer's visor shattered as the round penetrated, head snapping back as his still shaking body collapsed to the ground, joining his two dead compatriots. Maelon lowered the smoking SMG, observing the barrel like an art collector admires a piece of art. He turned back to Daniel, omni-tool fading away.

Daniel's jaw must have been hanging open, as Maelon simply smiled, holstering the SMG on his side, "Are you forgetting I served in the STG? I fought at the Battle of Virmire. I even killed a few krogan."

Daniel sighed, shaking his head.  _Of course I knew he had military training, but I've never seen him use it before. That's...something else._

The sounds of gunshots must have stirred something within the crowd, because suddenly the shouts of anger and discontent intensified, roaring across the street. Daniel and Maelon's attention was grabbed by the event, snapping towards the focus of the commotion.

They were back to hurling objects at their Cerberus aggressors now, tossing broken bottles, bits of food and whatever other objects they could get their hands on to show their hatred of the soldiers lined up before them. Some of the crowd had dispersed, heading Nyreen's plea to remain in their homes, taking to their nearby houses and locking them up the moment they got inside. Some nearby stores shuttered up and closed, doing the same. But the majority stayed in rejection of the general's plea, choosing instead to vent their distaste of Cerberus in the street.

Apparently however, Cerberus had taken the sound of gunshots to mean that it was okay to retaliate.

Muzzle flashes followed as the Cerberus troops opened fire, the coughs and staccato beats of M-96 Mattocks and other assorted firearms tearing through the air to slam into the crowd. Many civilians fell immediately as their unshielded forms were left defenseless against the onslaught. Gas trails hurled arced through the air as tear gas was deployed directly into the seething mass to quell them, but all it did was worsen the situation.

As the guardians moved forward, finally tearing into the congregation with their M-358 Talon magnums, the swarm of angry civilians charged forward, hurling themselves at the Cerberus lines. RAMPART mechs were called in to try and strengthen their formation as a result, their shotguns blasting away at anyone who dared to get too close. Some civilians began to run for their lives, screaming and tripping over each other as they paved their way for escape. The sound of firefights erupted across the area, Daniel watching as a krogan and batarian ganged up on one lone trooper and tore his arms from his sockets, literally beating him to death with his own limbs. The batarian picked up his discarded mattock heavy rifle and fired. He was clearly inexperienced however, the recoil of the weapon combined with his shoddy aim causing it to ping harmlessly off a guardian's shield. He was gunned down moments later, with a trio of RAMPARTs having to team up to take down the krogan, their shotguns tearing him asunder.

"Like I said," Maelon muttered, "Riots have begun. You shouldn't be here, Daniel. We need to get inside before we're spotted. Its every man for himself now."

As the riots continued to get worse, gunfire and screams rupturing what little order was left in the district, Daniel began to back away, heading back through the door as he heeded Maelon's suggestion, ready to rush back to his clinic and lock the place down. Maelon wasn't far behind him, firing off a few shots as he was likely spotted by a Cerberus soldier.

As the door closed behind them, and the two continued their run back to the clinic, Daniel was left wondering if this was the end. Was this how society on Omega would collapse? A brutal and bloody battle to reclaim the station between its citizens, Cerberus and the UGC? Would he be caught in the middle? Would his-

_No...I can't believe I forgot about them! Damn it Claire, I hope you're okay...stay safe. And Benjamin...no, its a kindergarten, they won't be stupid enough to take part in a riot, they'll lock it down. And I doubt Cerberus will open fire on children, so he'll be safe. I just hope Claire plays it smart and stays indoors. Nothing I can do for her now._

With luck, this entire situation would make it easier for the UGC to sweep the Cerberus forces aside. Somehow though, Daniel doubted that would be the case.

As he listened to the screams and gunfire outside, mixed with the panicked whispers and muttering of the people he was now herding into the clinic, Daniel had to wonder if it would take the bloods of hundreds of innocent people to secure victory against the pro-human supremacist forces of the Illusive Man.

He shuddered to think about it.

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_1226 hours._

_Second Street, Kima District, The Hades Line, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Battle of the Apex: Hades Line Offensive._

_Battalion Commander Urdnot Grunt._

Shepard never stopped delivering  _glorious_ combat. Even if he technically wasn't the one delivering it at this very moment.

The war for Omega had certainly taken a turn for the worse in Cerberus' case. One moment, the Battles of the Rubicon had been raging, Cerberus and UGC forces exchanging the equivalent of slaps and meek punches at each other, doing whatever they could to ensure their troops weren't sitting idly on their asses. Cerberus had achieved some minor tactical victories, while the UGC scrambled to gain some of their own. That was difficult however when Cerberus was able to deactivate and activate forcefields of their own volition, allowing them to herd pockets of UGC troops into traps, corner them and wipe them out.

They caught on quickly, of course. Once General Golo, Nakmor Dreg and Walter Pike figured out what Cerberus was doing, they simply had their troops and armor hold defensive positions in areas of strategic importance across the Rubicon quadrant: Pike liked to call them 'Fortress Rubicon', apparently in reference to some human dictator back during Earth's 20th century that every hated. Unlike him however, these 'fortresses' were actual holdouts, and Cerberus' primetime assaults quickly slowed to a halt, to the point where they too had to bunker down and create their own mini-fortresses. After that, it was like flinging stones at each other, entire regiments of Cerberus forces wasting time twiddling their thumbs while waiting for the opposing to do something worthwhile. In the end, both sides just decided to allow aircraft sorties and artillery strikes pound their foes, both sides hoping to win their battle of attrition through simply bombing them into oblivion.

Then suddenly something changed. Cerberus made their move.

Without warning and seemingly without reason, Cerberus forces began to retreat. Geth recon units spotted kodiak shuttles ferrying Cerberus troops out by the dozens, with tanks and armor beating a hasty withdrawal through Omega's streets, all while a screen of Cerberus troops pretended that nothing new was developing. They had even watched as what seemed to be a company of an unidentified new type of Cerberus soldier, one in onyx armor with blue optics, were evacuated, followed by many more troops. It would take them a while to evacuate all their forces, but it was clear something was going on. And it was enough to have the UGC's commanders worried. Some even believed that Light Prophet had been compromised, and that Petrovsky had somehow gotten wind of the impending attack and was pulling back to the Apex.

Seeing an opportunity, Grunt couldn't resist taking advantage of Cerberus' lax attentions. Approaching the 'top three' UGC commanders (Golo, Dreg and Pike), he proposed taking his battalion of krogan soldiers and deploying secretly via geth dropship around the rear flank of the Cerberus force: then, while they were focused on evacuating, he could launch a quick and devastating strike on them. And, in the ensuing chaos, the Talons and rachni could press the advantage and launch a massive assault, hitting them before they had time to organize a response.

Pike had initially been against the idea, wanting to hold his Talon units in reserve for when Kandros needed them. Golo was hesitant at the idea, but it was ultimately Dreg who convinced them to do it, saying that, if it were successful, it would open up a clear path straight into the Apex itself: the beating heart of Cerberus' Omega. Golo and Pike had eventually capitulated, with Pike only committing a small fraction of his troops for the initial attack: if it proved to be doing well, then he would commit the rest. Golo would also have geth fighters fueled and ready to go should air support be needed, while Dreg moved to inform the rest of their forces to prepare for immediate attack on all fronts.

And thus the pandemoniac bloodbath began.

Grunt's battle plan had gone off without a hitch: far more successful than he initially reasoned. As it turned out, they had caught Cerberus at just the right time, just as they were beginning to step up their evacuation by deploying A-61 gunships to speed up the withdrawal. Under cloak, the geth dropships had rapidly deployed the 1st Aralakh infantry battalion, a total of 620 krogan commandos left within the unit itself, and had immediately set to work aiding the krogan troops, using its speed and airpower to focus on the shuttles and gunships.

Grunt had led the charge, his thunderous laugh sending a few Cerberus squads into a rout upon seeing 600 angry, blood enraged krogan stomping towards them in a stampede, an assortment of grenade launchers, heavy shotguns, rifles, submachine guns and even an M-920 Cain wielded between them all. The geth dropships had decloaked right above them, their siege pulses and automated plasma cannons immediately shooting down a pair of kodiak shuttles trying to leave, their flaming wrecks crashing down violently upon the streets below them, crushing waiting Cerberus soldiers below them. One of the A-61 gunships was caught offguard, and the pilot pulled a maneveur that massively overcompensated, dodging the geth air artillery but failing to take into account the building near him, having flown too low. Before he realized what he had done and tried to pull up, the right wing of the aircraft clipped the side heavily, causing the gunship to lose further control. Its momentum carried it straight into the building itself, smashing the wing and the stabilizer that had been on it. The gunship adopted a massive right list, before spinning out of control and crashing into the street below, crushing a parked kodiak shuttle under its weight before the resulting explosion consumed it and the many soldiers who had survived around it, flame and debris flying in all directions, some soldiers who were near the blast site being impaled by jagged pieces of discarded armor.

And the carnage was only just beginning. As the geth ships shot Cerberus shuttles out of the sky, Grunt and his krogan reached the Cerberus line. They had been scrambling to set up a guardian phalanx, but they had been too late and too disorganized, and the few that were formed were grabbed and tossed aside by the first wave of Grunt's men, one of them being caught by the tank-bred himself and his helmeted face stomped into the chrome deck, a sickening crack, followed by a loud pop signalling the human's skull had been crushed beneath his boot. He laughed, whirling around to fire his claymore point blank into the side of another guardian, the armor shredded as the powerful boom splintered into flesh, gouging a massive hole in his side. The guardian screamed, Grunt ignoring his cries of agony as he stomped past, seeking new targets. New kills.

Cerberus had gradually begun to form a counterattack, but it was only a few platoons, and none of them coordinated with the other to form a proper defense, and as such, were easily swept aside. Lacking air support, they were helpless as both krogan and geth alike bombarded them from the ground and the air, pounding them mercilessly. Blood and viscera combined with flame and ozone to create a proper sense of chaos: an atmosphere that krogan such as himself thrived in. He loved the drumbeat of shotguns blasting away fleshy humans, their cries for help from their comrades going unheard as their comrades too suffered their own form of punishment. One by one, shuttle by shuttle, company by company, Cerberus was annihilated. It didn't take long before Cerberus' artillery, a series of five M45 Goblins, fell to the krogan assault, the UGC choosing to capture them instead of destroy them. Leaving a few of his krogan to man the human-made war machines, Grunt and the rest of his battalion charged on, the men who stayed behind orienting the Goblins so that they faced the opposite direction...facing the Apex. They did not fire yet, not wanting to do so until they knew the UGC had the upperhand.

Despite the setback and the enormous casualties Cerberus wracked up, they were quickly learning. Coordination became more widespread, and his battalion's advance was finally stalled about a kilometer or so into the Cerberus rear flank. An entire regiment had formed up, with an M35 Mako positioned in the middle of the street to pepper the advancing krogan with its multi-role anti-infantry/anti-vehicle cannon. A few of his krogan fell as they tried to attack the vehicle to little success, and Grunt finally ordered a halt as his men took cover, whipping out their heavy weapons to return fire. Grunt had been annoyed at the delay, their stalled advance not boding well for whatever momentum they had. Emboldened by their newfound advantage, Cerberus troops moved into the buildings around them, raining down fire on the krogan from above, where their cover did little to protect them. Nemesi sniped from the rooftops and top storey windows, while engineers set up turrets in the streets to set up death zones. The dropships were forced to break off as missiles flew up into the air, ML-77 Dory missile launchers and MANPADS screaming up into the air as they tried to find targets.

But in their smug triumph, Cerberus had made a fatal mistake: they had turned their full attention to the krogan, believing the UGC had committed the majority of their forces to a rearguard assault. Just as Grunt had wanted...had  _anticipated_. Shepard had taught him well.

A series of screeches and war cries pierced the air from behind the Cerberus lines, and many of their troops turned in alarm, screaming out orders for them to turn around. Grunt grinned.

The rest was history at this point. While the rachni and Talons stormed Cerberus' now exposed center, Grunt and his battalion had stormed the buildings, performing a house-to-house slaughter of Cerberus' support units. From room to room Grunt went, crushing the skulls of nemesis snipers while he beat the other soldiers into bloody pulps, alternating between using his bare fists and his shotgun. He suffered a few hits, but his regeneration took care of that, healing factor taking care of his superficial wounds as his blood rage quickened, turning him into a feral monster as his massacre continued, swatting aside the Cerberus 'supersoldiers' like they were nothing but toys, their attacks feeling like tickles to his hardened carapace.

One soldier had been brave enough to take a shock baton to a gun fight. Grunt had laughed, entertaining the fleshy's delusion of taking a raging krogan in a hand-to-hand fight as he holstered his shotgun and charged into the human's embrace. The baton slammed into Grunt's chest, the pathetic electric shock barely registering as heat in his lower abdomen. If anything, it gave him a warm, funny feeling...or perhaps it was the blood rage dulling his senses, as it always did. Either way, the human had his turn, and now it was Grunt's. He had wrapped his arms around him, bodily picking him up. His grip was tight, strong enough for him to hear the snap of the human's back as his spine snapped, the assault trooper screaming in pain, long and loud. Continuing to laugh, he turned and shoved the soldier out the window, glass panes shattering around them as he was sent tumbling several stories below. Roaring loudly, his voice carrying across the battlefield, Grunt unholstered his shotgun once more and jumped out the window after the fallen human, primed with adrenaline.

He landed on the fallen human, now knocked unconscious, with a squelch. His weight, combined with the height he jumped from, caved in the human's breastplate, parting the ribcage and the resulting explosion causing his organs to explode. Blood and intestines flooded out from the trooper's ruined torso, which was now almost literally pancaked. Bits of white bone shot out, one impaling itself on Grunt's cheek, where he promptly ripped it out, tossing it aside. Stepping off the human's corpse, enjoying the coppery smell of his blood, Grunt looked up at the horrified expressions of a pair of centurions near him. He must have looked quite the sight: a krogan, using their human comrade as a trampoline, his armor soaked in blood and canine teeth gritted tightly in a homicidal smirk.

Suffice to say, he introduced them to the reasons for his smile soon enough.

The Cerberus regiment was overwhelmed in minutes. Pike, true to his word, had seen the tide turning and deployed the rest of his men, Talon-emblazoned kodiaks roaring overhead as they landed and deployed additional Talon reinforcements. The rachni wreaked havoc, tearing apart anyone wearing white and gold armor. The Mako tried to escape by acellerating down the street, hoping to make a break for the Apex. Grunt was ready for it though, standing directly in its path as he whipped out his M-100 Spiculum and aimed just under the vehicle's undercarriage, where he knew the suspender was located...the weakest spot of the tank.

He fired three grenades directly into his target, watching as they bounced off the floor and ricocheted straight into the belly of the tank. He sidestepped, watching as the explosive force of three grenades detonating was enough to overpower the Mako's suspension and balance, sending its back shooting up into the air, its forward momentum furthering its flip. The pilot used the jump jets in an attempt to right itself, but this only worsened it, the added acelleration speeding up the capsizing tank. Grunt watched as it shot past, the Mako landing with a crash on its dorsal structure. Its main cannon was crushed underneath its weight, the vehicle screeching as sparks and dust were kicked up by it skidding across the deck. It finally stopped at a pair of nearby barricades, the flipped wreck smoking as its exposed undercarriage, now facing the sky, leaked fuel, the liquid dripping down onto the floor.

As Grunt approached it, now equipping his shotgun again, the hatch had popped open, one of the tank's occupants rolling out in a hurry. His claymore boomed, and the human's head disappeared in a cloud of meaty chunks. Kicking the corpse to the side, he primed a napalm grenade and tossed it into the tank's interior, holding the hatch shut with his boot. He continued to laugh as a muffled blast was heard inside, followed by screaming. Easing up his boot, the hatch popped back open as flames and smoke shot out, the oxygen inside the cramped vehicle having already been consumed. Grunt stepped back from the intense flames, watching as the pilot practically danced out of the vehicle, screaming and desperately waving his arm as fire ravaged him, blackening his armor as he was cooked inside it. Grunt just watched with mild amusement as the human flailed for a few seconds more before finally ceasing movement altogether, now dead. He turned and headed back for the Cerberus regiment, ready to continue the assault.

It was over within minutes. A few Cerberus units even surrendered, which was a first for the hated organization: never before had any Cerberus troops surrendered in battle, preferring to fight to the death rather than give up. Still, only a few actually survived to surrender, the rest having lived up to their Cerberus name and fighting to the gruesome end. Those that survived were taken back to Aria's bunker to be interrogated or kept as POWs, but for the UGC, the battle had only just begun.

Just as Grunt had been ordering their forces to dig in, he had received word from General Golo that Light Prophet had been a success: Shepard and his strike team had successfully brought down the forcefields, and wiped out the adjutants in the process, eliminating the danger they posed to Omega. EDI had informed them directly, and Golo had not failed to capitalize on the opportunity this held: Dark Prophet was now ready to enter its final phase. Golo had given the order, the UGC had deployed all available assets they had, and launched their second major offensive of the war. As far as Grunt was concerned, this was the war had  _really_ begun.

_Cerberus don't have their forcefields to hide behind anymore. Now its just us and them...oh, this will be_ _**fun** _ _. To glorious battle! For Tuchanka!_

Turns out saving those Goblins had really been the smart move. Pointed and aimed at the Apex, they were now in a perfect position to launch the opening salvos of the UGC's attack. High-explosive, concussive shells rained down upon the Apex from kilometers away, every single one of their captured, white and gold M45 Goblins emptying slug after slug into Cerberus territory, thirsty and craving the spilling of its former owner's blood.

Petrovsky lived up to his reputation however, and seemed to be fully prepared for this eventuality. And despite Grunt taking the initiative, Cerberus had still managed to evacuate a sizable portion of its troops, not to mention that they still had the majority packed tightly in the surrounding quadrants. As such, he had simply ordered these forces to congregate and surround the Apex, setting up a series of fortifications and defensive zones that Cerberus communiques and his colonels were referring to as the 'Hades Line'. Several regiments were committed to the defense, not to mention a sizable portion of armor and gunships. The UGC had lost the momentum they needed to smash through it in a direct assault, but despite Cerberus' superiority in numbers, they still had their ace in the hole. The geth and quarians.

Those clever little pyjaks had sent advanced recon units under cloak to scout out the Hades Line, and they had found a weakness. In their haste to reinforce their sectors, Cerberus had been forced to pull away troops from their only remaining air base, which they called Raymond Air Base in honor of one of their fallen colonels who was killed during the first war to conquer Omega. Given its weak strategic position, Cerberus had withdrawn troops to reinforce areas of more obvious importance, leaving behind unused tanks and vehicles to give off the impression of a larger force. Apparently this was a tactic a group called the 'Allies' had used during a 'Second World War' on Earth where they used inflatable vehicles and dumby armies to fool the enemy into expecting an assault in one area, only to be attacked in the other. In this case, Cerberus was using it for the opposite: to make the enemy think they were strong where they weren't. A sound strategy, but...

...the geth, being machines, had immediately detected that the vehicles were unmanned and that what few troops were there were too minimal to successfully defend it. Apparently Cerberus had even taken a few of their mothballed M28 Angel and M29 Grizzly IFVs (along with the odd M41A Smoothhound APC) and placed them in positions that would make them look prepped and manned. And given the air base stretched behind the Hades Line itself, capturing it would allow the UGC to spread into the Apex, and then spin back around to cut off the regiments from their reinforcements, effectively pinning them down and taking them out of the fight. It was an ambitious plan of attack, and naturally, Grunt had volunteered to spearhead it.

The UGC forces were split into thirds, with Grunt taking one third (nearly 7,000 troops) to assault the air base, while the other 13,000 began twin assaults along the Hades Line, keeping the majority of the Cerberus defenses busy and ensuring they couldn't immediately respond to Grunt's strike. Commandeered artillery, along with their own, opened up and the air was filled with the cacophony of booms and flashes as both UGC and Cerberus guns exchanged bombardments. Missiles, tracer fire and the roar of fighter engines filled the streets, followed by the permeation of explosions, shouts and gunfire. Raymond Air Base deployed several fighter squadrons into the air to engage the UGC's own air cover, neglecting to launch its remaining bombers as Cerberus was placed on the defensive...this would prove to be a fatal mistake, as Cerberus would soon find out.

Due to their need for secrecy, Grunt had to lead his forces on foot towards their target, not wanting to risk being spotted: and while the geth dropships had good cloaking abilities, there weren't enough of them to transport 7,000 troops straight to the air base. So, they were stuck having to march. As such, they were moving through a mostly empty Kima district, its streets abandoned. Civilians were inside, refusing to come out, while Cerberus troops had simply abandoned the whole area, falling back to their defensive line. However, what they left in their wake was something none of them had expected.

Despite being untouched by the war, the Kima district looked like a battlefield. Bodies were strewn across the streets, some of them piled up while others were spread out, all of them a mixture of Cerberus and civilians. Fire raged in one building from too many molotov cocktails being detonated, smoke and soot pouring out from its windows and reaching up into the sky, blotting out all light in its path. Blood leaked into gutters and drains, flowing across the street: mixtures of orange, red, purple, blue...it all made for a rainbow alotment of death and destruction. Nearby, a deactivated forcefield could be seen, its emitters torn from the ground as the civilians had likely dug them up to ensure it could never be activated again: rendered steel and iron rivets had been tossed around haphazardly, the metal plating tossed aside to expose the circuits and drain systems underneath. The air reeked of death.

This hadn't been a glorious battle. It had been a slaughter. Civilians and Cerberus intertwined, tearing each other to pieces in one viscious riot. An abandoned D-09 Atlas unit rested on its belly, likely having been shoved over by the enormous combined weight of dozens of rioters: he could see chunks of flesh and blood pooled around the Atlas' cockpit section, his observation being that the mech had been dropped ontop of Cerberus soldiers, its weight crushing them like grapes.

Grunt and his forces inched past the carnage, continuing their steady march towards Raymond Air Base, the sounds of anti-air guns and GARDIAN missiles pummelling the sky with flak, black puffs of smoke and debris erupting seemingly at random as blips in the air, narrowly missing geth fighters and interceptors as they ducked and weaved under and over the air shield. Blue Suns squads formed the front of their column, with Blood Pack and Eclipse not far behind, rachni soldiers and workers forming the center, Grunt's battalion in the back and some quarian combat engineers and geth primes making up the rest of their rearguard. And then, of course, there was the fleshy tattooed female and her biotic litter.

He liked her. She was strong, thirsty for blood and liked to rip Cerberus soldiers apart. And she was a powerful biotic...he had seen her in action at the Collector Base. He looked forward to seeing her toss these other fleshies around and tearing them apart.

As they rounded street corners, the level of violence got worse. Grunt could see a pile of bodies lined up in a line along the sidewalk, their torsos riddled with bullets as evidence that they were lined up and executed by Cerberus foot soldiers. Revenge for that was swift, as not ten meters from that, an assault trooper had been practically crucified into a wall, his body stripped of his SPARTAN combat armor and undersuit to reveal his naked skin underneath, laced with the telltale wiring and blue glow of military-grade cybernetics. His hands and feets had been nailed to the wall by hand, blood streaks leaking from his maimed skin. His bare body was displayed without obstruction, allowing them to see that the civilians, in their savagery, had messily relieved the soldier of his manhood. Even Grunt had to wince at the thought of that. These civilians had shown no mercy to their captors.

On and on it went: a walk through the lane of chaos and violence that permeated mass insurrection. The UGC had got wind of Nyreen's 'rise to arms' speech, and how she had intended for the civilian populace to take shelter and not get involved with the war. Apparently many had chosen to ignore her pleas, and the results were laid bare. It was clear Cerberus' retreat had been more about not being able to divert attentions: they couldn't combat rebellion and invasion simultaneously. What lay behind the Hades Line was likely the territories they had managed to subdue and suppress, while the ones they left behind were the ones they'd thoroughly lost control of.

Yet there was no evidence that either side had emerged victorious. No rioters looting stores and burning buildings, and yet no Cerberus troops racing to set up defensive positions or execute rebellious elements. Just silence...nothing but the shuffling of those who heeded Kandros' pleas and stayed inside, and the sound of marching feet as 7,000 UGC troops approached their goal.

Grunt didn't like it. His senses told him that there was every possibility Cerberus spies were lurking in these buildings, watching them and relaying their positions back to their forces at the Hades Line. What if, at this very moment, Cerberus had reinforced the air base and were lying in wait? Was he walking his men into a trap?

_Bring it on. The Collectors laid a trap for Shepard a year ago, and we scattered them like roaches. I say let Cerberus make their trap...we will smash it! I am Urdnot Grunt, and I am krogan! As long as I have enough ammo, there will plenty of them for me to kill! The more, the better! Let them prove their worth in battle!_

The march went on for a while. It took them about an hour before they were within visual range of the air base itself. Its semicircular hangar bays could be seen reaching up into the sky, doors wide open to reveal the many aircraft parked inside. Missiles and gunfire streaked into the sky from the anti-air defense turrets mounted on the roof, warding off any air assault. Luckily for them however, it did not seem as if Cerberus had made any move to reinforce this critically weakened area, the lack of barricades and the small number of troops confirming as much. They were only a few kilometers out, so Grunt ordered them to step up the pace. Wanting an update on their situation, he contacted General Zaal'Golo, "This is the First Assault Group to Assault Group Actual, what's your status? We're within striking distance of Raymond Air Base, over."

Golo's response was immediate, "This is Assault Group Actual, Cerberus is holding firm but we're keeping them pinned. We've captured additional Cerberus vehicles and armor and have repurposed them: even put to use some D-09 units they left behind. Progress is slow, but there are cracks developing. We've yet to use any of their forces being diverted, so it doesn't look like they've caught on to you, FAG."

He heard Jack chuckle at that, but the krogan didn't even bother to ask her what was funny about what the quarian had said, "Understood. We'll give them something to cry about. Heh heh heh." He cut off the comm, brandishing his shotgun with crisp malice.  _Those Cerberus fleshies don't even know we're coming. They think they're safe behind their little defense line. Heh, time to grind them into paste..._

Another twenty minutes passed before had finally reached the street the air base was on. Its AA had since gone silent, the UGC air forces pulling back to Aria's bunker to refuel or simply to provide air support to the Dark Prophet forces on the ground. Either way, the guns had fallen silent, but continued to scan the sky, their LADAR and motion sensors searching for hostile IFFs. Even better, none of the Cerberus aircraft had returned to refuel yet, meaning Grunt's force wouldn't be spotted before they could launch their attack.

Pressing himself against a wall just infront of the main fence surrounding the air base (Cerberus had practically sealed off the entire rest of the street to make use for the impromptu air field with a large chainlink fence. Crude, but practical), he signalled to one of the quarian engineers, motioning him forward. He was the leader of the small engineering squad. The quarian ran up to him, small Arc pistol in one hand, "Yes sir?"

Grunt nodded to the AA guns up top, an idea springing into his head as a large smirk swept across his mouth. He was sure the quarian had shrunk back at the sight of it, "Those guns up there...they use IFF receivers to differentiate friendly aircraft from enemy, correct?"

The quarian nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

The krogan's smile just grew wider, "Can you hack it remotely?"

The quarian begun to catch on to the supersoldier's idea, opening his omni-tool with a flick of his wrist. After a moment, he nodded eagerly, "Yes...they're operating on a global link generator, which allows them to peak efficiency. Instead of having every turrret run on a tightband network, which would require multiple generators, they simply have them operate on a wideband frequency. It makes them more vulnerable to hacking, but Cerberus will have compensated for that. I'd expect heavy firewalls."

Grunt turned to the squad of engineers and geth surrounding them, "But those firewalls are no match for a dozen quarian engineers and geth hacking it all at once, right?"

He could tell the quarian was smiling, "They won't have a chance."

"Good," he waved an arm at the turrets, "I want you to hack those turrets and switch their IFFs to mark Cerberus as foe and UGC as friend. That way their refueling fighters will get a nasty surprise..." he laughed, before turning to one of the Blue Suns commanders at this side, "You, you'll take a platoon of your men, some Eclipse and a few Blood Pack boom-squads and sweep around the back...you'll be hitting their fuel depot. Cause some noise...I want a big explosion."

The turian frowned, "Isn't that counterproductive? I thought we wanted the element of surprise?"

He nodded enthusiastically, pointing at the central hangar, "You'll be our distraction. The explosion will draw their attention while we breach this fence and swarm the hangar. They won't know what hit them. They'll be confused...and a confused enemy is a dead enemy."

The turian nodded, whatever expression he may have had hidden behind his blue visor, "You want a big explosion, you'll get it."

_Excellent. Cerberus will lose their air support and we'll divert the majority of their forces to the far side of the air base._

He turned to the remainder of his unit, which included Jack and her students, along with a couple of primes, his krogan battalion and thousands of rachni troops, "We'll wait here. My men will begin carving a way through this fence. The fuel depot explosion will be our signal...once we hear it, the rachni will charge the air base ahead of us, and we'll follow up behind...rachni can move faster, so they'll cover distance more quickly. Once inside, your only job is to trash everything in sight...every single aircraft, and any Cerberus personnel you come across. Destroy it all."

"So tear apart anything that so much as bleeds white and gold?" Jack rhetorically asked. Seeing the krogan's nod in her direction, a massive smirk crossed her lips, the superbiotic turning to her students, hands cupping over her mouth as she yelled, "WELL THAT JUST SOUNDS LIKE FUN, DOESN'T IT!? What do ya say, you little shits!? Let's kill some Cerberus!"

"Yes ma'am!" the students roared in confirmation.

Grunt crouched down behind the chainlink, a three-fingered hand slipping through the metal wiring to grip it firmly. It begun to shake as one of his men got to work with his omni-blade, using the flash-forged energy to slice and melt a gap through the obstruction, the substance bubbling and slithering away from the intense heat bestowed upon it. The Blue Suns, Eclipse and at least three Blood Pack vorcha boom squads departed down the opposite street towards the fuel depot to carry out their alotted mayhem, while the quarians and their geth allies whipped out their omni-tools and got to work cracking the Cerberus anti-aircraft network. The plan would work, he was sure of it. After all, it was an inspired choice.

_Its a plan my battlemaster would be proud of. They've given me the job of taking this air base and punching a hole in their lines...I plan to do more than punch my way through. I'm going to punch, then rip my way into it!_

The krogan supersoldier could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of more violence and battle. His grip on his shotgun caused the plastimetal to strain ever so slightly, even though the weapon was made by krogan, for krogan. Naturally, it was designed to withstand their strong grip, especially that of the ancestral strength krogan once possessed before the genophage, and one that Grunt currently had. He eyed the air base as he felt his blood practically pound in his ears, filling his senses and consuming him in its omnipotence. He could smell blood, feel it running through his veins. He could see it, and taste it. Everyone of his bodily apparatuses seemed to go numb, as if in anticipation of the combat that was to come. Grunt was entering a blood rage, and he would soon need to vent it.

A few minutes passed, and the commando he had assigned to the fence finished his work, pulling away his blade and raising one foot to come crashing down on the brittle material. It collapsed with the weight of a feather, not so much crashing onto the deck as it did glide towards it. He had cut a large enough gap for at least three yahg side-by-side to step through, which was more than enough room. Grunt stood up and patted his subordinate on the shoulder, the krogan nodding at him in respect before pulling back, omni-blade evaporating as he brought forth the massive M-9 Usurper assault rifle wielded between his claws. Now they need only wait.

They didn't need to wait long. Mere moments later, a shockwave rocked the entire district, causing some of them to stumble in surprise. Grunt remained unfazed, his grin only widening as he knew what this meant. A plume of smoke and fire shot up into the sky in the near distance, at least half a klick south of their position. The explosion had been so intense that the heat could be felt from where they stood, the column of smoke so thick that it was black, the area behind it rippling with the heat and almost completely rendered invisible to the naked eye. And as was the case with large explosions, the sound followed seconds after, the thunderous crack likely rupturing the eardrums of those closest to it. It echoed across the districts, likely heard as far as the Styx quadrant.

There was the signal.

He didn't even need to give his orders. Everyone parted as they watched their seething horde of rachni charge past them and through the hole in the fence, swarming forth like a horde of angry fireants. Workers and soldiers, led by a biotically charged brood warrior, stampeded through the air base's perimeter, bringing themselves closer and closer to the air field as they moved with immeasurable speed.

Just as the last rachni passed through, the quarian from before, a male, stepped forward, omni-tool deactivating, "We've breached the last of the Cerberus firewalls, sir. Those turrets will be fighting for us within moments."

"Excellent," Grunt approved with a firm clasp of the quarian's shoulders. The suited fleshy winced from the pressure, but accepted the gesture with a simple nod. Slapping him on the back, he turned to his battalion, holding his shotgun up in the air as he roared, "FOR TUCHANKA!"

"FOR TUCHANKA!" was their thunderous reply. And then they charged.

The plan had been flawless in its execution, much better than Grunt could have anticipated. Like clockwork, the AA turrets ontop of the air base ceased firing the moment he had crossed the perimeter's threshold, their barrels and missile launchers freezing in place as they looked for their new foes and former allies. With the threat of air attack eliminated, he was free to lead the charge on the oblivious Cerberus defenders, who were in for quite the shock. They still weren't expecting the UGC to attack what seemed to be a 'heavily fortified position', not realizing that they hadn't fallen for that lie in the slightest.

As the rachni advance units reached the central hangar, they found little to no Cerberus resistance waiting for them. The barricades were completely abandoned, a pair of mortars and a single Steelhead anti-infantry stationary gun lying completely unmanned, abandoned by their operators as they rushed towards the explosion and the threat they perceived. As such, the rachni swarmed over these empty defenses, rushing straight into the hangar itself as Grunt and the rest of the column followed behind.

There was a boom overhead, and Grunt stopped to turn and look up towards the source. He watched as a Cerberus SX3 Thunderbolt descended from above, slowing down as it approached the air base to make its landing approach, likely to refuel. No doubt it noticed the massive pillar of smoke and fire bleeding out into the air, and had been warned of the attack. Not that it mattered, because once the fighter was close enough for them to make out its colors and classification, it was close enough for it to be in range of their AA umbrella.

One of the turrets above coughed, and a streak raced across the sky as a trio of missiles raced out to greet their ally turned foe.

The pilot took too long to perceive what this meant, and by the time he swerved his craft to avoid the missiles, it was too late. The first one struck it on its belly, and the fighter's shields burst instantly, shredded pieces of armor plating snapping off and smoke trailing from its fuselage. The second slammed into its wing, obliterating it and quickly causing the fighter to begin spinning erratically. The final missile hit it directly in the front, and the krogan watched as the entire aircraft erupted into a bright fireball, the pilot having no time to eject inbetween impacts. The fireball glowed fiercely with its intensity, the fighter quickly plummetting towards the ground as it broke apart in the air, pieces of its other wing and other remnants of the disintegrating vessel breaking off as it made its descent. Finally, it crashed somewhere nearby, just outside the base, a loud boom signalling its arrival.

Like he had said, the plan was going off without a hitch.

Turning back from the glorious display, he turned back and rushed into the hangar. The rachni were taking to their assigned task quite animatedly and with purpose, rachni workers swarming towards the parked bombers and interceptors lining the bay. The ones on the right actually had hoses plugged into their sides, likely having been in the process of being fueled up when the explosion had ignited. Evidence of this was that the hangar was not entirely empty.

What few soldiers were left behind to guard the hangar were quickly overwhelmed, the claws and acid spit of the rachni soldiers a blur of movement as they sliced and diced their way through their bodies, rearranging their body parts in clouds of blood and intestines. What few Cerberus personnel left were pilots and fighter jockeys, and they only had basic firearm training: as such, most of them made a run for their parked vehicles, while others fruitlessly opened fire on the horde only to be devoured all the same.

The rachni quickly ignored the pilots in favour of the vehicles they were running for. Grunt watched as workers quickly descended upon one parked Hornet bomber, their insectoid forms partly disappearing as they found their way inside the craft, dismantling it from within as they destroyed circuitry, weapon systems, disconnected fuel intakes...piece by piece, the vehicles were disassembled brutally and without the gentle touch of a mechanic. Their efficiency was methodical, but without subtlety. Their goal was to destroy, not preserve.

Within a minute, at least six bombers had been thoroughly destroyed, while a brood warrior was in the process of smashing an interceptor with its biotics, a series of warps and a singularity thoroughly tearing it apart, metal twisting and groaning as it was warped and sheared off. There was a scream from inside the cockpit: clearly one of the pilots had reached his vehicle, only to be rendered and turned inside out as the singularity consuming his interceptor took him as a victim. Bad way to go.

Muzzle flashes and gunfire ripped through the ruckus to riddle a rachni soldier, acid blood spewing across the floor as it erupted from the numerous gaping wounds in its chitinous side. A squad of assault troopers burst through a door at the back, followed by two more squads, immediately rushing out to take up an offensive posture, guardians moving up front to provide protection while more assault troopers begun to toss grenades at his forces. Their numbers were few however, and with 7,000 troops at his disposal, Grunt found little need to find them a threat.

Laughing, he rolled his shoulder back before suddenly thrusting it forward as he charged, shoulder clipping an escaping pilot in the chest, sending him flying up into the air. His ribcage practically shattered, a series of cracks signalling the broken bones, before Grunt brought up his shotgun, took aim and fired. The Claymore's slug slammed into the human's chest, blood and bone exploding from the entry wound to coat the krogan in a thick, hot crimson blanket. The human groaned as he fell back to the ground, eying the massive hole in his chest as his intestines pooled out infront of him. He meekly picked at a protruding bone, before slumping forward into a pool of his own essence. He stepped over the corpse, feeling his boot land on the back of the dead man's neck, crushing it underneath his weight, before he wracked the slot back on his shotgun, his blood lust unsatiated.

"Suppression fire, keep them back!" one of the Cerberus centurions across the hangar shouted, "Someone get Colonel Colwood on the horn! Inform them we've-"

The centurion screamed as a rachni soldier suddenly appeared, claws slicing at his leg. He stared numbly at the missing stump, collapsing to the ground as the soldier descended on him, claws slicing away chunks of flesh and plastimetal, uncaring for the body armor he was wearing. His subordinates opened fire on the rachni, but its acid blood spurted out like projectiles of their own, slapping one soldier square in the face. He pried off his helmet in a panic as the corrosive substance quickly ate away at the protective material, only for his head to snap back as a sniper round tore through his skull, blood and chunks of brain blasting out the other side as he fell. More of his compatriots quickly fell as their kinetic barriers failed, shotguns and assault rifles tearing them asunder. The rest of the squad fell back, some of them uselessly dragging the corpses of their comrades with them, as if they could be saved.

_And so they run. The prey runs, and the predator continues the hunt! Ha ha ha!_

Another pilot fell, so he simply brought up his boot and stomped down on their face. He relished the sound of crushed bone as the human's skull was viciously caved in, his cries cut short. Stepping away, the bloody remains of the Cerberus pilot's brains leaving a wet footprint on the deck, Grunt turned to see another pilot clambering up the steps to his fighter, desperate to get the aircraft into the air and escape the slaughter.

He focused his blood rage and charged.

The pilot must have heard him, stopping halfway to the top as he turned and saw nearly five tons of enraged krogan stampeding towards him. He flinched, turning back to his fighter as he reached the cockpit, diving into the seat as he quickly began his own preflight checks. He quickly primed the cockpit cover, watching it slide over him before he continued his work.

But he was too late.

Reaching the vehicle, Grunt didn't slow his momentum as he threw all the force he could muster into ramming the aircraft. He hit the vehicle's wing, denting it heavily from the impact and causing it to briefly lift off the ground and tilt, before falling back down. Laughing like a maniac, he brought up his shotgun and pumped three quick shots straight into the starboard engine, watching it cough and sputter as the rounds tore through the lightly armoured wing. The damage was superficial, and likely wouldn't do anything to halt the fighter's operation, but right now, the krogan's propensity for violence wasn't going to be stopped, no matter how illogical.

He reached up, dropping his shotgun ontop of the wing before grabbing onto its edge, dragging himself up. He watched the terrified, wide-eyed gaze of the pilot watching him as he climbed up: Grunt was a like a monster, and the pilot needed to get away from him regardless of the means. Possibly realizing his efforts to take off would now be moot with a five ton krogan weighing his vehicle down, he primed the cockpit again, watching it slide away...

...exactly the wrong thing to do.

With no covering to offer protection, the pilot was helpless as Grunt picked up his shotgun and fired. The first slug missed by an inch, slamming into the console infront of the pilot and sending sparks and chewed up pieces of metal flying around inside the confined space. The pilot yelped, but quickly recovered as they began to pull themselves up and out of the cockpit. Grunt didn't care, and once the distance was closed, he lashed out with his left foot. He watched as it hit the pilot square in the throat, sending him flying off the parked Thunderbolt, grasping at his neck as he wheezed and gasped for air, the sucking sounds almost sickening to listen to.

Cracking his neck, the krogan proceeded to prime a pair of frag grenades, timing it just right before dropping them directly into the now empty cockpit. He leapt from the vehicle just as they detonated, flames and jagged pieces of metal consuming him in a hellfire as the SX3 simply broke apart. Its flaming wreck lay in a sad heap, Grunt barely feeling the pain as flames licked at his armor and skin, twisted and wicked shards of metal sticking out of his back and arms.

He looked down at the pilot, grin dying slightly as he saw a piece of glass impaled in one of his eyes, having pierced his golden visor to pierce flesh underneath. Another piece of metal gaped out of his chest, a pool of blood expanding around him, while flames from the destroyed SX3 began to catch on his undersuit, slowly catching alight. Grunt just shrugged, turning away as fire rapidly consumed the corpse. He reached up and pulled the debris from his back, allowing his regeneration to do the rest. As for the flames...they hardly bothered him.

If anything, it seemed to make him all the more terrifying. The sight of a flaming, non-chalant krogan gunning down Cerberus pilots without mercy sent most of them into a fit, abandoning their vehicles entirely as they simply ran for their lives.

_Run all you want. Its over._

Another squad of Cerberus troopers emerged through the door, immediately opening fire. Grunt's smirk returned in full force at the promise of more fleshies to kill, but the squad suddenly disappeared as quickly as they appeared, a freight train of liquid blue energy cascading along the floor to fling them aside like a ragdolls. Some of them hit walls at terminal velocity, spines snapping from the impact and killing them instantly. Others weren't as lucky, resulting in nothing but broken limbs, leaving them at the mercy of the angry rachni horde that tore into them like a angry horde of hornets.

"Leave me some kills too, would ya?" came a familiar female voice.

He just chuckled, "You need to keep up."

"Oh, get fucked you oversized frog."

Another centurion was picked up effortlessly off the ground as Jack's body glowed with dark energy. She flexed a wrist almost casually, watching as the soldier's body was bissected down the middle, blood geysering into the air before she tossed both sides of his torso aside like they were annoyance. She raised a pistol, emptying a clip into another fallen soldier who had been cradling a broken leg, the white bone protruding through his kneecap and screaming in agony before Jack put him out of his misery.

"I expected...more," Jack joked, shrugging, "I don't know...just thought these 'soldiers' would be more professional. These guys fight like rookies."

He knocked aside another assault trooper, but as he turned to fire, his claymore clicked empty, ejecting the thermal clip with an angry hiss. Reaching down to reload, he found he was now out of ammo. Growling, he simply turned the shotgun around and proceeded to bash the soldier's skull in with the butt, finishing as he felt bone crack underneath his fourth blow. Holstering the weapon, he pulled out his Spiculum, feeling the need for some extra explosive demolition.

"Fuck!" Jack barked, "Rodrigez, get your head out of your ass and watch your damn flank! We've got troopers, coming in from behind us!"

"KILL THE ALIEN SCUM!" The Cerberus forces from behind them shouted as at least two platoons worth of troops suddenly appeared at the hangar's entrance, descending with a flurry of their own violence. Combat engineers prepped to deploy their portable sentry turrets while nemesi took positions behind their abandoned barricades, sniper rifles searching for targets. A trio of dragoons glowed with biotic might, lashes forming in their closed fists as they outflanked Grunt's forces.

Their perceived victory was short-lived, just as it had been before.

Rockets and grenades suddenly pelted the Cerberus troops from behind, with at least two squads wiped out by the initial barrage. Moments later, dozens of soldiers clad in white and blue, orange and black, red and white armor emerged and opened fire. Vorcha boom-squads opened up with flamethrowers and ML-77 missile launchers while Blue Suns and Eclipse support units poured fire into them with a range of tech-based and conventional attacks. Omni-tools lit up as Eclipse engineers launched incendiary projectiles and EMP overloads, armor and shields respectively sizzling away from the brute force attacks. HEL-class drones dropped down from the sky to rain death from above, a range of micromissiles and chain gun fire providing a maelstrom of bullets and explosions.

It was a massacre, however you wanted to put it. Cerberus had been caught completely offguard, just as they had intended, and no matter how they counterattacked, they were losing. They fell, whole squads at a time, as they were completely surrounded, suppressed and annihilated. Their dead littered the hangar bay as more of them fell, and without anywhere to retreat to, they were forced to fight hopelessly against their prevailing enemy.

As the last assault trooper fell, Grunt appraised the battlefield. It had only lasted ten minutes, but in that brief time, his assault group had completely laid waste to the air base. The quarians were likely jamming communications, hence why Cerberus reinforcements had not arrived. The flaming wrecks of destroyed aircraft filled the bay with hot smoke, obscuring their vision. The destruction of these vehicles ensured that Cerberus had lost all of their remaining bombers, which just left the fighters they currently had in the air, which would soon needed to refuel, and would try to land, only to be shot down by the turrets that had been turned against them. Cerberus' air force on Omega was effectively history. UGC air superiority had been achieved.

Accessing his comms, he contacted Golo again, dropping his grin as he adopted a serious posture, "General, this is Grunt. We've destroyed Raymond Air Base. You wanted your gap, now you have it."

Pike's voice responded instead, quick to begin barking orders, "Do not let Cerberus plug that gap...take your forces and keep pushing. I'm sending Talon reinforcements toward your zone. Link up with them and head east. We need to cut off the Hades Line from the rest of Petrovsky's forces in the Apex. Harass their supply lines if you can, but that's your objective.  _Do not_ allow them to retreat."

Jack was next to speak, responding to Pike's orders as she cut off Grunt from doing so, "How many men does Petrovsky have on the Line?"

"We don't have exact numbers, but we estimate around 19 to 25,000 troops: the vast majority of his corps. We think he's holding back the remaining 5,000 to protect the heart of the Apex. That means he's vulnerable. We cut them off now and we stop Petrovsky from reinforcing New Order HQ. We can end this war now."

Before Jack could once again interrupt him, Grunt piped up, "We'll do it, just as long as there is plenty of Cerberus to kill. But we're not waiting for your reinforcements. We do that and we'll be wasting precious time. Time Cerberus may just need to realize what we're doing."

There was a brief pause, followed by Pike's answer, "Very well. My forces will link up with yours further along the road. Pike out."

Grunt turned to the rest of his forces, who had finished mopping up Cerberus forces and were eagerly awaiting his orders. This was it: the final push. In just a few days, Cerberus had gone from the kings of Omega to fighting desperately to hang onto it. And with the forcefields gone, they had finally lost the last advantage that they had: without them, Petrovsky's back was now firmly against the wall.

"Pike wants us to swing around and cut off the Hades Line," Grunt barked, his voice rising to an octave where it echoed off the walls of the hangar, "I say... **WHY KEEP HIM WAITING!?** "

There was a cheer that followed, the many krogan of the group holding up their weapons as they roared back with equal enthusiasm. Jack did the same with her students, getting them roused up for a fight. One by one, the assault group cheered as Grunt lead them outside, ready to continue their push towards triumph. Towards victory. Towards glory.

He hoped the battle continued to deliver.

**{Loading...}**

_August 7, 2186_

_1157 hours._

_Secondary Operations Chamber, Main Reactor, Dark Zone, Omega._

_Second War for Omega, Operation: Dark Prophet._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, EDI, Soldier Javik, Moses, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, General Nyreen Kandros, Ruler of the Terminus Aria T'Loak._

He wasn't just angry. He was pissed off.

He had spent the better part of a minute standing over the console, hands clenching the sides of it as he watched the blinking lights indicating that energy had been successfully siphoned from the forcefields. The 'Dark Zone' had returned to full power again, areas that had been shrouded in darkness for nearly a year being introduced to the light once more. It was done. The beginning of the end for the war was in sight.

And it had almost cost them thousands of innocent lives.

He silently fumed, finally plucking himself from the console as he stood up, armor creaking as he straightened. He swept up his pistol, holstering it as he once again retrieved the pulse rifle from his back. He needed to shoot something... _someone_. He exhaled silently as he calmed himself, expelling the violent thoughts from his mind. It wouldn't do for him to put a bullet in the head of his ally, however much he wanted to.

He quickly exited the chamber, heading back to the secondary operations chamber, where the forcefield there had also collapsed. His thoughts were with the rather stressful situation he had been pressed with just minutes before, remembering every second with crystal clarity. Aria had wanted him to overload the reactor instead of re-directing energy from the forcefields, arguing that it was 'faster'. She didn't care that doing so could result in multiple districts losing life support, resulting in the deaths of hundreds, possibly thousands, of civilians. All she saw was the amount of Cerberus soldiers she'd be killing by doing so.

He remembered what Garrus had said about ruthless calculus, but this...this was something entirely different. This wasn't 'sacrificing the few for the many,' it had been risking cold-blooded mass murder simply to gain a tactical advantage. The very thought of it made him nauseous, repulsed by the idea of killing thousands of innocent people on the hope that Petrovsky may be among them, or at least lose a large portion of his troops. Ir was one thing to wage war, it was another to commit wilfull genocide.

_She's a fucking lunatic. Totally unhinged. No limits, no moral complex. She doesn't care who lives or dies, just as long as she gets her throne. Utterly insane. How can I possibly help this monster take control? Perhaps Nyreen was right. And Petrovsky._

He had promised himself that he wouldn't let the General sway him, yet the man's words held a truth he couldn't deny. Aria T'Loak was a cancer that Marcus was essentially helping to infest Omega once again. Her hatred for Petrovsky, of Cerberus, and her incessant, primal need to 'reclaim her station', meant she was willing to kill anyone and everyone to make sure she got what she wanted. Such an ally was unreliable. Untrustworthy. Totally unpredictable.

She was a ticking time bomb.

The secondary operations chamber was in sight now, and he could see that his squad looked to have a handle on things. Destroyed RAMPART mechs littered the area around it, their mechanized heaps of metal and plastic lying around in the dozens, sparking and twisted. He nodded to Keeling as he passed by her, the N7 having remained behind to wait for his return. Noticing his arrival, she nodded back and stood up, walking backwards as her rifle continued to scan the area behind them before pivoting around and walking normally, rifle in an alert carry position, but her stance rigid in case she needed to return to a combat ready stance.

The rest of the squad was spread out across the operations chamber, in varying degrees of posture. Garrus was slumped against a support strut, Liara next to him and nursing a bullet wound in his side with medi-gel. The turian didn't seem to be in any excess pain, holding his sniper rifle in an upright position. Tali was next to him, arms crossed with her shotgun on her back, foot tapping idly as she watched the asari helping her turian friend.

Moses and Javik, as expected, maintained watched with a constant vigil, positioned on each side of the chamber, watching for hostiles. James and Kaidan seemed to be arguing over something, although Marcus couldn't tell what. EDI and Kasumi looked to be swapping information via omni-tool (more than likely ways how to deal with RAMPART mechs), and Aria was surprisingly back on her feet, her previous fatigue either forgotten or being ignored in favor of the asari remaining steadfast, M-11 Wraith at the ready. Nyreen stood beside her, looking to be holding a surprisingly civil conversation with her. About what, he wasn't sure, but he was just glad they weren't constantly bickering like they were before.

His approach didn't go completely unnoticed. A few steps inside, and Garrus' mandibles spread into a grin, holding up his sniper rifle, "Marcus...about time you showed up."

He shot Aria a brief glare, before turning back to his turian comrade, walking over to him as his squad turned to acknowledge his presence, ignoring everything they had been doing beforehand, "Sorry, I was a bit held up. You guys okay? Petrovsky threw a lot of shit at you."

Liara just tittered, wiping her forehead, and standing up, allowing Marcus to see the wound Garrus had sustained: a single, tiny hole had punched through his armor, and a small lick of blue blood had dried around the entrance. Obviously, it wasn't mortal, considering Garrus was now beginning to stand himself, wincing slightly at the discomfort, but otherwise looking fine.

"Have you forgotten the Citadel all those years ago?" the asari replied, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms, "Kaidan, Wrex and I held against an entire geth division while you chased after Saren. I think we can handle a few dozen mechs with shotguns."

He held up his hands comically, laughing despite his mood, "Well,  _excuse me_ for worrying," he turned to Garrus now that he was fully standing, motioning his head towards the superficial wound in his side, "You going to be to walk that off?"

He shrugged, regarding the wound rather non-chalantly, "I took a rocket to the face and you're worried about a bullet in my side?"

He sighed, exasperated, but unable to hold back a smile, "Alright, I get it! We're a group of badasses."

"Oh," Garrus muttered, the smirk on his mandibles barely contained, "...I guess I better remember you s-"

He raised a finger at the turian, cutting him off, " _Do not_ let that go to your head, dino."

"Too late. Should have thought about that before you made me a spectre," he clucked, pretending to check his sniper rifle to ensure it was loaded.

"I  _am_ beginning to regret that," he jested, reaching out a hand to grasp Tali's shoulder as he smiled reassuringly at her, "Before you ask..."

"...you're alright," she drawled, shaking her head, "I don't know why I bother asking."

"Because you're such a caring wife?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking," he sarcastically quipped, keeping his rifle lowered as he let his arm fall from Tali's shoulder, the quarian reaching behind her to grab her shotgun, watching the collapsed weapon spring to life in her hands. She just rolled her eyes, while Garrus just laughed.

His anger was almost forgotten as he was relieved that his squad was intact... _almost_.

Then Aria opened her mouth.

"We're all just  _fine_ ," the asari snapped, Marcus turning to find her face suddenly infront of his. He felt his blood boil once more, mirth giving way to fury as he remembered her actions before...what she had tried to coerce him into doing. His fists clenched, eyes narrowing into slits as he glared back at her with such venomous vehemence that he could have melted the hull off a geth cruiser, "...despite your best attempts to have us all  _killed_."

Nyreen was at her side in an instant, grabbing Aria's shoulder as she tried to pull her back, but the pirate queen wasn't budging, "Cut Shepard some slack, Aria. Shepard managed to save thousands of lives and all of us got out okay. He did the right thing. I  _applaud_ him." There was a hint of pride in her voice, the turian regarding Marcus with a great deal of respect. It was clear his decision had been well received on Kandros' end.

If only Aria was as grateful.

"Your  _soft heart_ almost got us killed," she snarled, having barely acknowledged Nyreen's presence, poking a finger at his chest, "Had you simply overloaded the reactor, we wouldn't have almost died. Instead you wasted time siphoning the energy away. The result would have been the same either way!"

His teeth gritted, he snapped back, stepping forward, refusing to be bullied into submission, " _Wrong._ Your solution would have ended with pointless deaths. Thousands of them. By siphoning the power,  _like we had originally planned_ , I stopped us from being responsible for a massacre."

Aria guffawed, holstering her shotgun as she slapped her thigh with jocularity, rubbing her forehead as she turned from him, shoving Nyreen aisde, "Oh, well its all okay then! As long as Shepard's conscious can rest easy, us nearly dying is okay. We almost ran out of ammo while you were off on your moral struggle! By overloading the reactor, we could have seriously devastated Petrovsky's forces! Perhaps even killed all of them! But you just couldn't put your damn idealism to the side long enough to do what was  _necessary_."

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off as Tali stepped forward, standing beside him, "Back off Aria. We were all here...we all knew what we were signing up for. Mark did what was right. Just as we've come to expect of him. Your posturing and temper tantrums aren't helping."

"Of course you'd defend him!" Aria dismissed, fixing Marcus with a cold glare as his wife was summarily ignored, "None of you will dare to criticize your perfect fucking captain. If this were  _my_ operation-"

_**Enough!** _

" _But its not_ ," he growled, his voice low but menacing as he enunciated every single word with a hiss, "You surrendered control of this campaign the moment you came to me for help. You wanted it, you're getting it. But if you expected me to simply let you carve a bloody path through this campaign, then I've got news for you... _you're fucking delusional._ Now I don't care what greviances you have with how I do things or my ideology, but as far as I'm concerned, we do  **not** put innocent civilians in danger intentionally! We do not sacrifice thousands when it becomes inconvenient! We came here to liberate this station, not kill everyone on it in the process!"

Aria was undeterred, mouth opening to offer a retort, "You don't-"

"Shut," he poked a finger into her chest, the force of the shove causing her to stumble back slightly as his superior strength took her by surprise.

"The," he stepped forward again, shoving her once more. His anger flared, skin flushed red.  _Enough. I've had enough of this. No more._

"Fuck," his voice rose an octave as he took another step, another poke causing Aria to almost trip as she was repeatedly pushed back by the human spectre. Blood thundered in his ears, his fists clenching so tightly he could hear the material groaning from the stress, his knuckles turning a pale, milky white.

" _ **Up**_ ," one final shove sent Aria stumbling against a pillar, and in one final stroke, he was inches from her, giving the asari nowhere to go. His arm snapped up, pinning her by the neck against the pillar, a slight strangled gasp emerging from her lips involuntarily in a moment of stupefaction. Every muscle in his body tensed up as he finally vented his full rage at the pirate queen for the things she had almost made him do.

"I've just about had it with your attitude," he verbally lashed, his red hot glare remaining unseen behind his helmet. Despite her weakened state, he could see her biotics beginning to brim, bringing forth his own to keep her pinned, his biotic light joining with hers to hold her in a stasis field, immobilizing her temporarily as he continued to berate her, "From the moment we landed, you've made it pretty clear that you'd see every single person on this station burn if it meant Omega would be yours again. Constant disregard for innocent life. That's not how I operate, and you  _knew that_. You've met me in person, probably even read my dossier. I helped cure the genophage. I made peace between the geth and the quarians. Not once, during those two scenarios, did I ever contemplate taking the easy way out and sacrificing thousands to satisfy some personal whim. I have blood on my hands, I'll grant you that, but that blood comes with the tears too: I don't enjoy what I do. But you  _revel_ in it. You  _don't care_. And that makes you dangerous."

Her eyes narrowed at him, finally granted the ability to form a response, "You won't kill me..."

The thought came to him before he could contain himself, his anger a raging tornado that could no longer be restricted, "...oh, but I'm seriously considering it. You're a menace. A loose cannon. And from what you just tried to do...I don't think you're particularly trustworthy either."

He saw her freeze for a brief moment, but then it disappeared as she adopted a stance of obliviousness. But he had seen enough to know that what she said next was a barefaced lie, "I don't know what you're talking about..."

The arm pinning her throat tensed further, cutting off whatever she was thinking of saying. He growled once again, feeling murderous thoughts flash across his mind as he considered and then dismissed them, "You're a  _smart woman_ , Aria. Don't insult your intelligence any further by lying to me, and don't insult  _mine_. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You planned this from the very beginning. You had no intention of letting us simply re-direct the energy from the forcefields. You wanted to have your cake and eat it. You had the  _audacity_ to think you could  _pressure me_ into committing mass murder for you."

She shook her head, glaring daggers at him, "I did n-"

His arm tensed again, and a choking wheeze escaped from her restricted windpipe, "Say it."

"I will not be-"

" _Say it_ ," he snarled, spittle erupting across the interior of his visor. His jaw was clenched to tightly he thought his teeth might snap.

"You  _will not_ get me to-"

" _ **Fucking say it!**_ " he roared, his voice carrying across the entire chamber and causing his squad, the passive observers they were, to jump from the sudden shouting.

Aria replied with equal veracity, screaming back at him until her throat was raw, " _ **Fuck you, Shepard**_ **!** "

He soundlessly released the arm that was pinning her, letting her land on her two feet, only now discerning that he had been holding her off the ground, the asari refusing to show weakness as she straightened up, hands remaining at her sides instead of raising to rub her sore throat, bruising left behind from where his armoured arm had left its imprint on her tinged purple skin.

She didn't see the strike hit her until her head snapped back, body slumping against the pillar temporarily as she blinked in shock. Looking up, she saw his fist clench and unclench as it recovered from the punch, the captain fixing her with cold hatred as he regarded her, "Let me warn you Aria: I will not be taking anymore of your shit. From this point forward, what remaining control you have is now mine. Your forces follow my commands.  _You_ will follow my commands. Since you cannot be trusted to control yourself, you will remain with my squad until this war is over."

She shot up, the prospect of her authority being undermined by the human before her filling her with a new rage, the asari fuming, "You can get  _fucked_ , Shepard. That is  _not_ going to h-"

"Its happening..." he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand as he turned and walked back towards his squad, removing his rifle from its holster and letting it fold back into his hands, "...whether you like it or not. This is not up for debate, Aria. With those forcefields gone, almost every inch of Omega is going to turn into a war zone. And with so much chaos going on, I need to know you're not going to be giving orders to shoot everything in sight. And since I now know what you're capable of, I don't trust you enough to keep your cool. Now you can either fall in with that, or stay here. Either way, I own this show."

There was quiet as he let this stew with Aria, the N7 stopping and turning as he, his squad and Nyreen calmly waited for the pirate queen's response. Left entirely speechless and without a protest to utter, Aria was forced to think through Marcus' ultimatum, likely running scenario after scenario through her head where she could turn this around and end up on top. Somewhere inbetween, she must have finally reached the conclusion that there was no situation where could win this. If she tried to kill Shepard, his squad would gun her down, and that's if he didn't do it first. If she went with him and then disobeyed his orders, he would put her down anyway. If she tried to seize control, he had Nyreen's full support, so she'd have nothing but her own men to help her, and she was heavily outnumbered in that regard.

She finally cleared her throat, her voice low as she clenched her fists out of frustration, particulates of biotic light spinning around her fists but not collecting to form a powerful mass, "If I do this...what happens after the war is over? Are you going to screw me over, Shepard? Break the one rule of Omega?"

 _Yes._ "No, I won't. You'll have your station. While the prospect disgusts me, I don't see any other option. So be grateful that I'm at least letting you have that."

_Or perhaps not._

She nodded slowly, before finally giving in and moving to rejoin them, her posture strenghtening as some of her strong-willed attitude returned to the forefront, but with just enough humility to satisfy him, "Very well,  _Shepard_. We'll do it your way."

He meekly acknowledged her capitulation before turning and addressing the rest of his squad, "How are we going on ammo?"  _Damn it, is Aria T'Loak in control of Omega really what I want in the end? If she's this reckless trying to take the station, imagine what she'll be like once she has control of it again. Is Aria T'Loak returning to power really what Omega needs?_

_Petrovsky's right about one thing. I'm definitely starting to think Omega might be better off without her._

"We're virtually depleted," Kaidan stated, motioning to the bandolier on his chest, which was currently emptied of clips, "Those mechs really soaked up what we had left. Ended up downing about sixty mechs in total. Tali, Kasumi, EDI, Moses and I have our omni-tool and tech-based attacks, but we had to overclock them just to keep them working, and my omni-tool isn't designed to be strained like that. That leaves biotics, and we can't last forever in that respect."

Marcus nodded, checking his own supply of clips. He had four left, which wasn't enough to spread out across the squad, and he doubted it would do very much to change the tide of a firefight should they be engaged again. If they could just link up with UGC forces topside, they could get a resupply before heading to join the frontlines. No doubt the final assault was in full swing with the forcefields now gone.

_We're close. We could have this war over by the end of the day. A week, at maximum, if we took into account Petrovsky's tendency to pull aces out from under his sleeve. With that being said, it won't be long now...which means I'll have to make a choice pretty soon. Do I let Aria take over?_

He winced, sighing silently where noone could hear his inner struggle.  _Fuck. If I let Aria take over, she could prove to be either an asset, or a burden. And she can't possibly promise that things will get any better under her reign. What if she proves to be just as bad as she had been before the invasion? Omega has been in shambles for centuries...nothing but violence, hatred and lawlessness...perhaps its time for new leadership. Petrovsky and Cerberus, despite being the enemy, finally showed Omega a level of order and prosperity that wasn't present before. Perhaps, under Talon leadership..._

He spared Nyreen a quick glance, before turning back to Kaidan, "Very well then. We'll take what we have and just have to hope it'll be enough to tide us over until we get back up top. Thankfully, EDI was able to purge the remaining adjutants on this station, not to mention siphoning that power has restored power to the entire Dark Zone. It should be a cake walk to get back to our forces, and then we can join them for the final push."

He glanced at Nyreen again, the turian paying attention to his every word. She nodded in agreement, her Pugio pistol holstered due to a lack of ammo for the weapon, likely now relying entirely on her biotics. The turian spoke next, mandibles twitching slightly as she scratched them, "I've also been working with Ahz and your engineers to help crack Cerberus' communications network. They got me into the system, and I sent a broadcast just after the forcefields fell. I wanted to make sure we got the civilians out of the streets before the fighting started."

"A sensible goal," EDI piped up, complimenting the turian's decision, "UGC forces will have less to worry about now with civilian lives clear from the streets. The likelihood of collateral damage will have decreased by 84.1 percent."

"That's great," Aria dryly riposted, her arms crossed as her usual, flippant and careless demeanour returned in full force, "But if we're done with talking, the war is starting. And I don't mean to miss it."

Before he could speak, Nyreen stepped in, opening her omni-tool, "If the war has truly started, then we may be able to sneak in behind enemy lines while they're focused on the front."

Both Marcus and Aria frowned at that, but it was Marcus who replied, "What do you mean?"

The turian brought up a holographic representation of Omega, a small blinking blue dot indicating what she was talking about, "Petrovsky established the Apex with the knowledge that nobody would be foolish enough to venture into the Dark Zone. And with power crippled and siphoned for his forcefield network, none of the elevators down here would have worked anyway. So he had nothing to worry about...until now," a blue line trailed up from where they were...straight up into the heart of the Apex, "With power restored, there's an elevator less than five hundred meters from where we are that leads straight up to-"

"-the Gozu district," Aria finished, nodding. Noting the looks thrown at her, she simply rolled her eyes, stepping back on one leg to lean on one hip, "I don't know why you're surprised: I've had centuries to get familiar with every aspect of this station. And I know the layout of the Gozu district quite well. I had that district quarantined last year when we had that plague. I  _also_ know that its right next to the Dyuko district...where Afterlife is."

"Yes," Nyreen confirmed, deactivating her omni-tool, causing the holo to evaporate into nothing, "But more importantly, that's where Petrovsky will be. His forces will be distracted trying to push the UGC back. When we get up there, we're going to be dead center in the middle of Cerberus territory, with New Order HQ very lightly defended. Petrovsky won't be stupid enough to leave himself undefended, but Shepard and his squad managed to destroy the entire Collector Base against odds far larger, so I think we can do this. If we capture Petrovsky, we can force a surre-"

Aria just laughed, "Oh no, we're not capturing Petrovsky. He dies."

"We'll decide  _that_ later," Marcus firmly declared, dismissing Aria's comment, "We're not going to decide anything right now. First, we actually have to get to Petrovsky. Nyreen, you'd best lead us to that elevator," he turned to EDI, motioning to her omni-tool, "EDI, get us in contact with General Golo. Ask for a status update on our operations and where the assault's at. But make sure you minimize detection as much as possible...I don't want to risk Cerberus intercepting our communications and tracing it back to us. We'll need the element of surprise to pull this off."

The AI nodded and soundlessly got to work, omni-tool springing to life as her five-fingered hands got to work, getting ready to receive an update.

He turned to Nyreen, and gave a single nod, "Lead the way."

Despite being four hundred meters away, the squad quickly found themselves moving at such a steady pace that the time passed almost without incident. They quickly reached the elevator in question, all of them boarding it before Nyreen accessed its ancient circuitry and slowly, but surely, brought it online, the lift ascending up into the air at a sluggish pace...so slow in fact, that it would take them an hour to reach the Gozu district.

Plenty of time to think.

He leaned against the back wall, silent as he hung his head low, mulling over his previous thoughts. They festered in the back of his mind like a weed, doubt gnawing away at his emotional and ideological integrity.

_What I'm suggesting...its nothing less than a coup. I mean, if I stop her and she never gets into power to begin with, its technically not a coup...I'll just never let her have power to begin with._

_Yeah, what a great difference._

_Damn it...if I let Aria have her throne, what promise do I have she'll remain loyal? She's completely unpredictable. Entirely unreliable. How can I trust someone like that to deliver what I need when the time comes? And what about Omega? Can I truly leave this station with the knowledge that she's in power? She's far worse than Petrovsky...he at least treated his people with leniency. She'll murder those that so much as cross her path. And the rule of law and order will disappear the moment she takes over...they act like lawlessness makes Omega attractive, but all it does is create a hellhole. Extortion, corruption, murder, rape, theft...they'll run rampant the moment she takes control._

_Why do I care? I've never liked this place. Never had a invested interest in its future..._

_But Nyreen does._

He lifted his head slightly, eying Nyreen carefully. Her arms were crossed and her back was turned to him, pacing lightly back and forth as she likely ran numerous tactics on how to deal with the upcoming battle through her head. He regarded her carefully, and frowned.

_She's a capable leader. She openly went out of her way to hack the entire station's mainframe simply to warn civilians of the impending battle so they could get to safety. Why do that unless she cared? Its clear doing that would be too much for someone who's simply looking to gain popularity: she actually gives a damn. She's ex-military, so she'd also understand the need for a proper defense force. Only thing she's really missing is the political know-how...but I didn't take that into consideration when choosing Anderson for councilor, so why should it count now? She could just as easily establish a democratically elected government on Omega...funnily end the tyranny that's turned Omega into the shithole it is now._

_She's the best hope for this station. She's exactly what it needs. And as an added bonus...she can be counted upon. She's not reckless or stupid. She's a professional, and she knows when and where to apply force. She inspires loyalty, and she knows how to transform bad into good. She took control of a bloody drug cartel and turned it into a well organized paramilitary. If she could do that, she can turn a lawless station into a state. Omega could actually prosper. Omega could_ _**evolve** _ _._

His gaze flickered to Aria, and the pit in his stomach formed once more.  _Aria...she's got none of that. She earns loyalty through fear, not respect or trust. She prefers a more laidback, disconnected rule, which means she couldn't care less if a bunch of gang wars leave entire families homeless or wiped out. She's selfish, impulsive and infatuated with her sense of invincibility. She wouldn't know the first thing about running a state. She's a joke of a leader. A parody. She's not fit to rule, yet she seems to think she deserves it._

He finally turned away, lowering his head once more.

_The choice is obvious. That's the worst part._

_Nyreen should lead Omega. That much I know. But the part that gets me is...how to go about this?_

All he really was certain about was that he wasn't going to make a decision about it now. He would need to discuss this with Nyreen later, after the war was over. Organizing a spontaneous coup in the midst of a war with Cerberus would be foolish, so they needed to eliminate that threat first before they could decide the future of Omega itself. He just hoped Nyreen was thinking along the same lines as him.

_So its pretty much decided. Aria cannot be allowed to lead Omega._

It was nice to have some clarity, at least. But he had to admit he was a bit apprehensive at the idea of launching a coup de'tat. Is this how Udina felt when he organized with Cerberus to overthrow the Council and invade the Citadel? Did he feel justified in doing what he did?

_Totally different situation. Udina was indoctrinated and Cerberus is undermining the war effort. Aria is an actual threat I can recognize. And unlike Cerberus, Nyreen is a far superior substitute to the original leadership. There's more to gain having Nyreen in charge._

He was shaken from his stupor when the elevator shuddered, and as he looked up, he realized the elevator had finished its ascent, Aria tapping the haptic interface and barely waiting for the door to slide open before she stormed out, her shotgun whipping up as she swept the area infront of her for hostiles. The squad piled out after her, and after a second, Marcus followed them, helmet pressed against the cool, sleek side of his pulse rifle.

_That hour went by pretty fast._

He immediately recognized where he was just by rapid glance at their surroundings. It was hard for him to forget the Gozu district: after all, this had been where he had found and recruited Mordin little more than a year ago. A plague had ravaged the entire district, forcing Aria to seal it off and quarantine it. The virus had infected everyone but humans and vorcha (the latter of which were immune to disease anyway), which had punched a hole in a turian-dominated Blue Suns, who had owned the district and were its unofficial police force. As a result, the Blood Pack had moved in, resulting in a short but bloody war known as the Gozu Mercenary War: combined with the aftermath of the plague and its high death toll, Gozu had taken months to recover, and the Blue Suns permanently lost control of the district. Marcus and his team had decimated the Blood Pack forces trying to subsume it (who had been responsible for spreading the plague in the first place, which was Collector in origin), so in the end the Talons had swallowed it up. The Gozu district had only just gotten back on its feet by the time Petrovsky invaded with his army.

They were in some back alley maintenance block, the worn out walls, peeling deck plating and faded lettering on the walls indicating this room hadn't been occupied or used in some time: considering how ancient the elevator was, Marcus wasn't surprised. It was quite sparse, the room itself not particularly colorful or filled with items, being as barren as they came. The door ahead of them had no haptic interface, demonstrating to Marcus that it wasn't active or its power source had been cut. Either way, it was going to require some brute force to get open.

Taking point, he motioned for Moses to open the door, knowing the geth prime's superior strength would do the job. Giving him a simple nod with his optics, the prime stomped over to the door and crouched down, three-fingered hands reaching inbetween the two sliding sheets of metal and beginning to pry them apart. With a groan and a squeak, the two pieces of metal parted, a plume of dust exploding away from the disturbance. With a final heave, Moses wrenched them open, causing them to part lazily to their sides, leaving the way for them clear of impediment.

Marcus was the first to step through, rifle at the ready. Once outside, he found himself on an empty street corner, a CBD if he was to guess based on the seemingly never ending rows of shuttered and closed shops. A pair of skycars were parked to his left, although their owners were nowhere to be seen. A holographic sign labelled 'Apex Omnitools' was deactivated, its lettering dimmed and inactive. From the looks of things, the place had only just recently been abandoned: the area was too clean, too devoid of life, for it to have been anything but recent.

As the rest of his squad joined him, he could hear gunfire and explosions in the distance. The sound of it told him that UGC forces weren't too far away. Even as he turned to request an update from EDI on that situation, he was already receiving an answer, the AI nodding to his unvoiced request, "General Golo has stated that all UGC forces are currently engaged with Cerberus at an area called the 'Hades Line'. He also states that Urdnot Grunt has recently raided a Cerberus air base in the Kima district and destroyed it, and that his forces are now moving towards the Gozu district to outflank Cerberus troops on the Line. He believes Petrovsky has dedicated the majority of his forces to this. Around 20 to 26,000 troops, spread out over several miles."

"That leaves roughly a regiment behind to defend New Order HQ," Keeling stated, running the math in her head, "That's roughly 4 to 5,000 men. Still enough to pose a problem."

"Not if we're quiet," Kasumi shrugged.

EDI wasn't finished apparently, "General Golo would also like to inform you that they were able to eliminate at least a couple of battalions during an ambush in the Rubicon quadrant. They were able to catch Cerberus forces in the middle of an evacuation, and managed to capture heavy materials and armor. Numerous D-09 and M45 units were among them."

 _So we've got some of Cerberus' firepower and we're using it against them. That's good._ "Good to hear. Inform General Golo that we've arrived back from the Dark Zone and that Dark Prophet is to proceed as planned. Find a way to punch a hole in the Line and push through to the Apex. We can't give Petrovsky time to form a plan of counterattack."

As they began to move forward, EDI spoke up once more, "Captain, Grunt is trying to contact us."

He nodded, motioning for her to pass it on to his helmet. After a moment, there was a crackle in his ear, followed by Grunt's voice, his tone joyous and enthused, "Battlemaster! I knew you'd join the battle eventually! The battle is going well, battlemaster! Its a pity you're missing out."

He grinned, finding it hard to keep a straight face at the krogan commander's enthusiasm towards wanton violence and destruction, "I'm sure you're more than making up for my absence, Grunt. I hear you're giving Cerberus a real hammering."

The krogan chuckled heartily, the boom of a shotgun almost deafening over the comms, "They're on the run, Shepard! Once we overran their air base, taking the rest was easy! I don't think they expected us to attack them from behind! Give it twenty minutes, and I think we'll have them running with their quad between their legs! Where are you?"

He shook his head, "Can't say, Grunt, don't know how secure this transmission is. Just keep pushing. Don't give Cerberus time to regroup!"

Aria's voice was suddenly heard over the comm as she intervened, "Head for Afterlife! We need to take Petrovsky down! The only way this ends is with him dead. We kill him, and Cerberus' forces will-"

He turned, shooting her a death glare. It said more than enough. Aria saw the look and stopped, but not before he turned back around and switched back to talking with Grunt, "Belay that order, Grunt. Focus on breaking the Hades Line. Then, go around and begin liberating the surrounding districts. The less Cerberus has under their control the less area they have to retreat to. We'll condense them into one sector, trap them and finish them off. Just keep applying force and this will all be over soon. Shepard out."

"Understood. We'll knock 'em, right on their ass!" The comm went silent, Marcus disconnecting the line immediately afterwards.

"Well, I guess that's sorted then," Tali stated, having taken position behind a nearby pillar.

"Indeed," he turned to his squad, taking a deep breath, "We're on the precipice, people. Let's pick up the pace. We've got one destination, and only one in mind: Afterlife. We get Petrovsky, and this all ends. Let's finish this damn war so we get back to the real one."

There was a range of acknowledgements, and Marcus turned back raising a fist and then lowering to indicate to his squad to move forward.

Today, change was coming to Omega. In more ways than one.

Marcus would be sure of that.

_**Author's Notes:** _

_**Well...that's it for a bit. Want to spend more time with Flashpoint for a bit before I get back into Holocaust again. Don't worry, we've only got two chapters left before I can successfully declare the Omega arc finished. For now though, I want to take some time to focus on the less full-on, more laidback nature of Flashpoint.** _

_**Until then,** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	76. Cancellation (NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS)

Yes, this is a cancellation...but not quite the cancellation you think it is.

I'm not cancelling Holocaust. We've been down that road. No more. No, I am fully committed to finishing Holocaust. But the only reason that's possible now is because I've had to cancel something else.

I'm officially cancelling Ultimatum, the original planned fifth and final installment of the For A Better Tomorrow series and sequel to Holocaust. Some of you may be bummed out about this, some others don't care and I don't blame you.

There are many reasons for why this cancellation is taking place, and the foremost one is because its simply too big a task. Ultimatum is turning out to be an absolute monster of a book just by looking at my outline, and it seems to get bigger and bigger with every new idea that comes to my head. With all the characters and subplots from FABT needing to be wrapped up, along with new ones being developed, Ultimatum looked like it could feasibly turn into a one hundred to two hundred chapter book. Yeah, I know.

I simply cannot tackle a mammoth like that. I'm having a hard enough time getting through Holocaust, which has been going since 2014! At this point, I'm hoping to have it finished by the end of 2019, which is doeable, if not pushing it a bit. But to then jump straight into Ultimatum? Its simply not possible. I'm not Shepard: I can't make the impossible happen.

Another reason is that after writing chapters of Holocaust and being inspired by other stories, I realize just how much I yearn to induldge other fanfiction ideas. I've had an idea for a MShep/Tali post-war story for a while that was inspired by works such as that by the late TheSneakyFox and Rob Sears. I've wanted a piece of that proverbial pie for myself, but never got the chance because FABT conquered all my attentions. I had resigned myself to the idea that I may never get to act on those ideas.

Well, not anymore. Writing Flashpoint just hit home with how much I want to put these ideas to paper. Even a recent story idea I've been consolidating with Rob Sears has me excited and I can't do it if I'm writing Holocaust and Ultimatum. They're simply too energy dependent. FABT requires my full attention if I'm to keep writing it in the quality I have it at now.

So unfortunately, Ultimatum has to be axed. Now, the reason I decided I could get away with this is twofold: for one, I've analyzed every possibility, and come to the conclusion that I can tweak the outline of Holocaust sufficiently to make it so it feels like a proper ending, and not have it end on a maddening cliffhanger (which it would if I simply left it as it was and didn't do Ultimatum. I imagine many would wish my painful death). Secondly, there's nothing in Ultimatum that is really required to happen, as its an aftermath story. Sure, you could say that everything in FABT has been leading up to that point, but with a few edits across the story, any reference to it can be removed without much effort. Its mostly limited to the interrogation segments at the end of each chapter, and those pointless future chapters riddled throughout Enigma, Prophecy and Requiem. Overall, Ultimatum, while I felt it would have concluded the series nicely, isn't a necessity. Its removal won't leave you wanting.

That does mean a lot will have to change with my Holocaust outline. A new chapter will take a bit longer to write as a result. I won't tell you what I'll change (that'd be spoilers), but at least Rob Sears won't know what to expect anymore! XD

If you would like to discuss this further, PM me, DO NOT post a review. You know how fanfiction is: if you post a review on this and I delete the note later to replace it with a chapter, you won't be able to remove that chapter. Just keep that in mind.


	77. Cancellation - READ BEFORE REVIEWING

You guys probably saw this coming. If you didn't, sorry. But I'm cancelling Holocaust again. This time, for good.

This decision was difficult, just as it was the first time. However, unlike that time, I'm not cancelling it because of depression or lack of motivation. I'm doing it because FABT has become a raging inferno that I can no longer keep heads or tails of due to my busier schedule, my studies and other commitments.

You guys probably know that fiction isn't as easy as it sounds. I'm not going to pretend fanfiction is a daunting task, but when you get to the level that FABT is at (which is pretty big), the issues begin to unravel. Its no longer passionate drabbles that you do to satisfy your love for a franchise. It becomes a pretty big commitment. FABT, ever since Holocaust started, became a world-building epic that, while incredibly enjoying and fun to write, quickly became mentally exhausting and difficult to maintain. This is made worse when you have to juggle such a gargantuan story with university studies, social life, video games, and other hobbies.

I tried to convince myself I could eventually finish this story if I just cancelled Ultimatum. I believed that for quite a time...and then I realized the problem was far more acute. The problem wasn't just the grandiosity dragging me down, it was my desire to expand beyond FABT. As you've probably seen with Flashpoint and now with Equilibrium, I'm looking to expand my horizons. There have been a bunch of new ideas I wanted to explore, but never could, because FABT was absorbing my time. A single FABT chapter is so large that I could write four Flashpoint prompts for a single chapter of Holocaust. It got that ridiculous.

This is not a cancellation of me as a writer. This is not me declaring my retirement from fanfiction. I'm doing this because I want to write other fiction. Other stories. Shorter stories, but with new ideas. This largely comes about from the relative famine of MShep/Tali stories on this site. The ones that are still going (at least the ones I've found) I find are just too unimaginative, or are yet another novelization or take on the games. Rob Sears, at this point, seems to be the only one to be taking the romance into unique and interesting areas, expanding upon concepts few other authors are willing to partake.

This is something I want to share in. I enjoyed writing Holocaust. Hell, if writing fanfiction was a job, you bet your ass I'd continue writing it, along with Ultimatum. But ultimately, its not, and in order to explore these other ideas, I must lay my old ones to rest.

Again, as last time, I will be posting the Holocaust outline so that you know where I was going with this story. I will be posting the original outline, not the one I revised when I cancelled Ultimatum, as I've decided to post the Ultimatum outline as well, because I feel I put too much effort into it to allow it to disappear into disuse. If you wish to use elements of my story outlines for your own stories, you may, but I'd prefer that you ask first.

I hope you stick around, as I will be continuing Flashpoint for the foreseeable future (as long as I keep getting prompts), and I can't wait for the ball to get rolling on Equilibrium: Crusader. And, of course, I have many more stories in the line up as well.

I thank you for understanding, and look forward to seeing your support in my future endeavours. Thank you for sticking around. :)

Keelah se'lai.


	78. End of the Omega arc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the Second War for Omega would have concluded, including: the fate of Omega, Aria, Nyreen, the Talons, Petrovsky and the Deliverance.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - END OF THE OMEGA ARC**

The following chapter outline is how the Omega arc would have concluded.

 **Chapter 57: Fight for Omega Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter would have opened with Petrovsky's POV. Petrovsky cancels Operation Invincible, as he is informed of Grunt's attack on the assembly zone, and the slaughter of several of his regiments by Colwood, who managed to escape during the evacuation. UGC air strikes have begun throughout the Dyuko district, although Cerberus AA batteries are cutting many of their aircraft down. Raymond Air Base has fallen, and the Hades Line has been outflanked, stopping Petrovsky from ordering a retreat and cutting him off from the vast majority of his troops, trapping them, leaving him only 5,000 men left out of the 30,000 he originally had. Things get worse when he realizes the districts are in open rebellion, and Petrovsky expresses outrage when he finds out many of his men opened fire on civilians. He blames Wchest, but ultimately excepts the colonel's logic when he explains the civilians were uncontrollable and that his men had no choice but to open fire in order to retreat. Aware that New Order HQ could be cut off from the docks, Petrovsky orders Banes to take the  _Deliverance_ and link up with the Cerberus Fifth and Ninth fleets, not wanting to risk the UGC capturing such a valuable vessel. Banes agrees, contacts Randall (ordering him back to the ship), and prepares to disembark. Petrovsky orders the remaining Cerberus forces under his control to retreat to the Dyuko district, but to cease all aggression against the civilian populace. With his back against the wall and left with no choice, the General contacts the scientists of Project Adversity and orders them to deploy their available adjutants into the district, hoping that the ones they have will be able to turn the tide. Knowing the Normandy squad will likely be spearheading the UGC assault, he has the entirety of the 9th "Greywolves" Shadow Force company redeployed to defend New Order HQ in the event of being breached. Petrovsky orders his colonels to prepare for one final assault.

 **Section 2** :

This section would have been from Shepard's POV. Nyreen splits off from the group to rally her troops, while Shepard's squad, followed by Aria, reach the upper levels and link up with UGC forces assaulting an undermanned Cerberus checkpoint guarded by sentry guns. A rocket launcher blows a hole in the wall, allowing krogan and vorcha soldiers to outflank the checkpoint and slaughter the Cerberus squad manning the checkpoint, while the turrets are disabled by Moses, with the help of Tali. Moving through the checkpoint, they are joined by Grunt and Jack. Nyreen eventually joins them as well, accompanied by a squad of Talons, as they continue to push towards New Order HQ, now firmly advancing through the Apex: Grunt informs Shepard that his forces have successfully pulled off a pincer movement, cutting off 25,000 Cerberus troops and pinning them between two opposing UGC assault groups, trapping them and effectively taking them out of the fight. They finally reach the barracks, where they are quickly pinned down in a battle with a defending Cerberus battalion, but are close to breaking the stalemate.

A passing airstrike of geth fighters breaks through the Cerberus anti-air cover, and bombard the barracks, obliterating the front of the barracks and killing nearly a hundred Cerberus soldiers, with dozens more wounded. The pinned down forces storm the barracks, quickly overrunning their positions and commandeering abandoned equipment, including two Atlas mechs and heavy weapons. A pair of UGC shuttles land and drop off reinforcements, one of the quarians being a red-visored female wielding a massive M-9 Usurper rifle: this is Nyareth'Kannos vas Xonna, from the Quantum Error series, and these reinforcements join the attack on the barracks. Shepard orders Grunt and Jack to stay behind to hold their rear (in case the Hades Line forces successfully break through), and Nyreen does the same with her squad, before following Shepard, his team and Aria towards New Order HQ. They quickly reach it, finding the area overrun by UGC forces, who have moved on elsewhere after clearing the area of Cerberus. They find a squad of Talons waiting at the steps to New Order HQ, only for the Adversity adjutants to suddenly appear from the doorway. These adjutants slaughter the Talons with ease, turning them into more adjutants. Nyreen freezes up in fear.

After a moment of Shepard fruitlessly engaging the adjutants from a distance, but only succeeding in gaining their attention, Nyreen steels herself. She turns to her daughter and proceeds to 'kiss' Sata on the head, whispering something in her ear, causing Shepard to frown. She then turns and snatches the bandolier from James' chest and rips it off, sprinting towards the adjutants. Aria screams at her to stop, but Sata remains silent, nodding with reluctant acceptance at her father. Nyreen blocks out Aria's desperate yelling, and dumps the bandolier infront of the adjutants, but not before priming it. The grenades explode, but only manage to severely wound eight of the adjutants, and they quickly begin to heal. Now completely surrounded, and with civilian lives at risk with adjutants loose, Nyreen attempts to fight them off. One of them manages to bite her in the back, much to Aria's dismay and Nyreen's dreaded realization. Nyreen realizes she is doomed to transform into an adjutant, and with the process taking place, looks to Aria one last time, whispering into her comms regrettably, "Look after our daughter, damn you." She then primes the napalm grenades on her waist, forming up a biotic dome around her and the adjutants. They detonate, the explosion consuming her and the adjutants, killing them all.

When the smoke clears, Aria runs over and falls to her knees to find only a few dismembered limbs and bloody stains. Shepard grimly notes that the adjutants are dead, ending the threat they temporarily posed. Aria hangs her head low, hands landing in the pool of blue blood and becoming soaked in it, as Shepard and his squad watch on: Shepard orders his squad to spread out, while he watches Aria with growing concern, not liking her sudden silence. The remaining three Talons from the slaughtered squad that Nyreen sacrificed her life for are then killed suddenly as the doors to New Order HQ open, with a Shadow Force squad emerging to meet Shepard's squad. Filled with a new fury, Aria stands up, still covered in Nyreen's blood and wipes her face in it, before brimming with biotic energy and charging forth, the force knocking Shepard and his squad over and onto the ground. Aria grabs the side of the building with her biotics and rips it down, using the concrete and plastisteel to swat aside the entire Shadow Force squad, crushing them, and then uses reave on a single surviving operative, before dropping him and impaling him on a piece of rebar, right through his skull. She then storms through the door, bashing through it effortlessly as she charges into New Order HQ, screaming, "You're fucking dead, Petrovsky!"

 **Chapter 57: Fight for Omega Part 3** :

 **Section 1** :

This section would have been from Shepard's POV. The squad duck down as the rain of debris from Aria's attack rains down around them, nearly killing them. They stand back up just as Aria gives her furious declaration from before as she storms through the doors, the sound of screaming and gunfire being heard shortly after as she proceeds to massacre the rest of the Shadow Force soldiers. Shepard orders his squad to form up on him and pursues Aria, telling James, Liara and Moses to stay behind and cover the doorway in case of reinforcements. In the corridor, they find nothing but the contorted and bloody remains of dead soldiers, with entire limbs and parts of their bodies missing in a mess of gore and damaged wall panelling. They enter New Order HQ to find it almost entirely decimated, with the bloody corpses of the rest of the Greywolves littering the command center. Colonel Amish lies across the command center's holo table with a snapped neck, a piece of bone jutting from his neck where a geyser of blood is spewing across the table, causing the holo projection to stutter violently, panicked Cerberus comm chatter emitting from the comms. Colonel Colwood is on the ground crushed under a slab of concrete, literally pancaked. Colonel Wchest's upper torso hangs from the ceiling, dripping blood everywhere, while his lower torso lies lifeless on the ground near the vidscreen, which was clearly smashed from the impact of the lower torso hitting it: the scene is a nightmarish bloodbath.

Colonel Kirk Farland is the only one still alive, wielding a pistol in one hand as blood leaks from his lips, both of his lower legs broken from shotgun blasts taking out his kneecaps, bits of splintered bone jutting out. He raises his weapon and fires harmlessly at Shepard, and Shepard orders him to stand down, as the war is now over. Farland nods, stating "indeed it is", before raising his pistol, pointing it at his head and pulling the trigger, blowing his brains out. Shaking his head, Shepard and his squad move upstairs to Petrovsky's war room, where they find Aria, her hand wrapped around Petrovsky's throat as she holds him over his chessboard, choking the life out of him. Shepard rushes up to her, ordering Aria to let him go. Aria initially refuses, confused as to why Shepard wants him alive, but Shepard explains that while he worked with Cerberus, any intel he has on the organization would greatly aid the UGC in eventually defeating them; because of this, Shepard would rather take him alive to be interrogated. When it almost seems like Aria isn't going to let go, Shepard feels the urge to raise his weapon at her, only for her to hesitate for a moment and finally let go, taunting Petrovsky and telling him to remember her 'mercy.' She turns to Sata and nods, looking almost sad as she looks at Shepard, Nyreen's blood having dried on her face. They both turn to Petrovsky, who huddles over a console, broadcasting to all Cerberus forces his orders to surrender, effective immediately. With this, the Second War for Omega is brought to an end, and General Golo reports that all Cerberus troops on the Hades Line and Dyuko district have surrendered, with a few of the commanders committing suicide to avoid capture. A few continue to fight, but are dealt with easily.

Petrovsky sighs and rips his uniform off, taking time to specifically rip the Cerberus logo off, before placing the uniform on his desk and placing the logo in Shepard's hand, a symbol of Petrovsky's surrender of his forces into Shepard's custody. He bends the knee before Shepard, not Aria (a pointed and spiteful message stating that he doesn't recognize Aria's authority), lowerds his head and declares that he hands himself over to Shepard's custody, and that he awaits his judgment. Initially confused, Shepard declares he will be arresting the General, before having a few Talons place omni-cuffs on him and have him escorted to the  _Normandy_ 's brig for transfer to Alliance authorities. Aria is not happy with the decision, but is cowed and begrudgingly accepts it. As Petrovsky is taken away, he admits to Shepard that he wishes "they could have been allies", before warning him that the Illusive Man has dispatched two fleets to reinforce his garrison, and will not be aware of his surrender. Shepard quickly catches onto Petrovsky's wording (the General is effectively defecting to the UGC), and nods. Aria overhears this and tells Shepard she will deal with the fleets, and believes she has a suitable plan to take care of them, laughing as she states, "Cerberus left us some toys to do just that."

 **Section 2** :

This section would have been from Aria's POV. A few hours after the end of the war, Aria gathers civilians and Talons in the command center, having cleared it of the bodies, although some blood is still present. The Talons demand to know where Nyreen is, and Aria informs them that she sacrificed her life to save her men. To their shock, Aria declares she will honor Nyreen's sacrifice by creating a new and better Omega, much to Pike's bafflement. Afterwards, she informs Shepard that, with Omega now free for the UGC to use as a naval base, all facilities will be made available to them and dedicated entirely to the war effort. The new Talon leader, Walter Pike, states that the Talons will now join the UGC, but will not join under Aria's banner. This changes when Aria gives a speech about how wrong she was to believe that a lawless Omega was a safer place. She therefore announces her intention to turn Omega into the respectable, self-sustainable state that Petrovsky had started to form, and officially establishes, in Nyreen's honor, the Omega Republic, with Aria as its provisional ruler. This shocks Pike, who changes his mind when Aria offers him the status of making the Talons the Republic's quasi-police/military force. Pike agrees, and declares the Talons for Aria. Everybody cheers, with Aria proudly proclaiming "We are Omega!" Shepard realizes that perhaps Nyreen's death did more to change Omega than she did in life.

 **Section 3** :

This section would have returned to Shepard's POV. With the war on Omega over, Shepard says goodbye to Aria, Ahz, Jarral, Dreg and Bray. He remarks to Bray, although privately, that Aria is "one piece of work", to which the batarian chuckles, Bray having found a new found respect for Shepard. He says goodbye to Sata, reassuring her that Nyreen loved her greatly, and wouldn't want her to waste the opportunity she has been given. Sata agrees, and decides to honor Nyreen's decision by making her own. With that, Shepard heads for the  _Normandy_ in preparation to leave, concluding that Nyreen's death gave Aria the final push to change. He overhears Aria announcing that she will keep Cerberus' particle cannons, and will have new generators constructed to bring them back online, making sure the Illusive Man will never retake Omega. As he approaches the airlock, he overhears Nya being told by her commander to load her shuttle and prepare for dust off. He finds Garrus and Tali waiting for him at the airlock, the former remarking that the smell is unbearable, while Tali asks where they'll be heading next. Shepard gives a solemn grin, reminded once again of the cost of victory, before following the two onto the  _Normandy_.

 **Section 4** :

This section was from Sata's POV. Back in her quarters on Omega, Sata muses on the words Nyreen last spoke to her. She realizes that Aria can never change, and that if true change was to come to Omega, she would have to succeed her mother. With that in mind, Sata laments on the future. This storyline would have been continued in V: Ultimatum as the 'Sanctum plot.'

_**A/N:** _

_**Might release a part of the outline each week, as I've got to tweak the outline so it reads more naturally. The outline I had was originally meant for my-eyes-only, and thus its clipped and to the point, and often has repetitive sentencing because its not meant to be a final product. The outline you see here has been majorly tweaked so it reads more smoothly and cohesively.** _

_**Again, I'm sorry about the cancellation, guys. Nobody wanted to see this story finished more than me. But some things just don't end the way you want. Rest assured, I will not allow this to happen to future stories: especially not Equilibrium or Flashpoint.** _

_**Please continue to review each outline post, because I would like to hear your opinion on what you think of where I was going with this story. Mostly, your opinion on key story decisions, character moments, villain motivations, etc. I also especially want your opinion on Holocaust's ending when its posted, because I want to know if I did it better, worse or on par with ME3's endings.** _

_**Basically, Holocaust's outline will be released in nine separate parts (including this one, which leaves 8 to go) and are separated based on arc and plot.** _


	79. Asari monastery plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How I would have handled the Asari Monastery plot, Kal's fate, and the period before the next major arc. Would have begun build-up for the Leviathan arc.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - ASARI MONASTERY PLOT**

The following chapter outline details how the Asari Monastery plot would have been handled.

 **Chapter 58: Not Much Left** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter would have opened with James' POV. While the  _Normandy_ is in FTL (returning to the Citadel), James is checking stock in the shuttle bay when he receives a message from the UGC N7 Special Operations Group, who want to give him the temporary designation of acting N7 until such time as he can be given proper training for the role: they explain that with the extreme lack of N7s at the moment, they are willing to jump James from N1 straight to N7 until the war is over. James does not reply immediately, instead expressing hesitation. He contemplates approaching Shepard about it, but asks Keeling instead. Keeling's response is to encourage him to accept it, asking why he is hesitant. James reveals the details about his past on the Collector abduction of Fehl Prime, believing it should render him ineligible. Keeling assures him that it does the opposite, as being an N7 means doing whatever is needed to ensure the success of the mission and being the best at what you do: which means making difficult choices. The N7 motto, which was originally made by her mentor (strongly suggested to be Alec Ryder, but never stated in the story), was "if you're back is against the wall, and the enemy stands before you...if you can't run, use it." Keeling admits she has had to make some of her own difficult decisions: she reveals how she once had to choose between saving a friend or a civilian transport being raided by batarian slavers, and how it eventually lead to her becoming an N7. Shepard has probably done the same. In a startling breaking of character, she makes him promise to simply not become like Leng, an N7 who uses their position of power to their own advantage. James states he will need time to think about it. Keeling tells him she believes he will make a great N7, surprising James. He returns to his bench, but after a moment of hesitation, he writes a reply. He has accepted the promotion.

 **Section 2** :

This section would have opened from the POV of Tashya K'Porae (Tashya Porae in the game), the asari commando who's body you find in the Ardat-Yakshi monastery. On Lesuss, an asari commando team (known as Blue Thunder) of 12 commandos deploys at an Ardat-Yakshi monastery via shuttle to set up a neutron bomb in the monastery. Through K'Porae's thoughts, its revealed the monastery fell silent when Lesuss' capital, Marya, fell to a small Reaper assault force, which quickly left after cleansing the surrounding area, sealing it off and bombarding it from orbit. The commando team, worried about Ardat-Yakshi escaping in the chaos, deployed a commando team to purge the monastery as part of NIGHTWIND contingency. As they advance through the abandoned monastery, finding it eerily empty and signs of battle, K'Porae laments about an argument she had with her bondmate, Weshra. The commando team quickly grow worried as they find the mutilated corpse of the asari justicar Phora (who had been visiting the monastery when the attack occurred), as well as a series of screeching and the familiar screams of Banshees, these ones seeming more potent and powerful than usual, giving them headaches.

Halfway through the facility, the team is attacked by Banshees as they suspected, and they open fire, referring to the ad-hoc UGC's  _Reaper Ground Force Combat Manual_ , which details effective tactics that should be used for certain husk types, and which is updated when new husks are discovered and effective countermeasures produced. In the manual, it states overwhelming a lone Banshee with massive firepower before it can biotically jump is extremely effective: when encountered in groups, it helps to split up and keep mobile. However, the team quickly finds their tactics are useless, as these Banshees are quicker, louder, more biotically potent and able to absorb more punishment. K'Porae watches in horror as one of the commandos turns on her comrade, choking her comrade biotically before the two of them are flung from the balcony, hitting the ground below with sickening cracks. These enhanced Banshees slaughter the commando unit, turning them against each other with some form of mind control. They shrug off conventional weapons fire and biotic attacks, making any known tactics against Banshees invalid. Tashya, in the confusion, is impaled through the chest by one of them and left to die in a pool of her own blood. She quickly types out a message on her omni-tool to her bondmate, explaining how sorry she was that they argued, and that she still loves her. She sends the message, but the signal is blocked, and it doesn't go through. Beginning to weep, she slumps back and listens to the cries of her team as they continue to be butchered and continue to fall back, leaving her behind as she succumbs to death.

 **Section 3** :

This section would have been from Lia'Vael's POV. Kolyat and Lia sit down to a meal at Apollo's Cafe on the Presidium Commons, having both worked long hours at C-Sec and Huerta Memorial respectively. The two begin to joke and laugh about their days until they, alon with everyone else, are interrupted by a human preacher. He begins to proclaim that the Reapers are gods, and Lia notices Kolyat tense up, reaching for his sidearm. C-Sec regulations post-Cerberus attack had been significantly tightened, leading to the Council passing the  _Civil Emergency Wartime Security Act (2186)_  just after the war on Rannoch concluded. In this Act, preaching about the Reapers was illegal, and those caught doing it were to be arrested on the spot for suspicion of terrorism (this was to combat indoctrinated agents, and was in reaction to the Cerberus agents infiltrating the Citadel, and the terrorist bombing of the asari High Command by Rana Thanoptis earlier in the story). Kolyat, following regulation, reached for his radio, and began calling for backup, while ordering Lia to sit still. Others begin to realize this too, and people in the cafe begin to clear out, backing away out of fear. The preacher notices another C-Sec officer, a turian, reaching for his weapon too, but he quickly produces his own and guns the officer down, causing Kolyat to raise his and shout "put the weapon down now! Drop it or I'll shoot!" Before he can do anything, a human man suddenly rushes the preacher. He is unable to aim his weapon quickly enough, and is tackled by the unnamed man into the railing. The force is enough that he falls over the railing and plummets to the streets below, landing with a thud and screaming below. Kolyat rushes over to assess, finding the preacher dead from a 60 foot drop. He contacts his dispatch, informing him the preacher is dead and to send CSI. Kolyat approaches Lia and tells her to go home, as he has got to stay and seal off the crime scene. Lia nods and leaves, shaken by the incident.

 **Section 4** :

This section would have been from Shepard's POV. Admiral Singh and a squad of marines wait at the docks on the Citadel as Shepard walks out with Petrovsky in cuffs, flanked by two marines from the  _Normandy_. He hands Petrovsky over, with Singh regarding the former general with disdain: just a few days prior, Singh's flagship, the SSV  _Logan_ , and a task force from his Third Fleet, were ambushed by Cerberus forces and narrowly escaped alive. Petrovsky is silent, stating that while he was formerly Cerberus, he will submit to any conditions they deem necessary: he will give them full cooperation, including classified Cerberus intel to the UGC, but only what he knows, which is very little. Shepard thanks him, watching as Petrovsky is taken away by Singh's marines to be imprisoned at one of the Citadel's prisons.

 **Section 5** :

This section would have been from Aria's POV. Back on Omega, Aria hunches over Petrovsky's former war room, watching as the Cerberus fleets arrive, quickly heading for Omega. She smirks, musing that she had the geth and mercenary ships deploy a long field of antimatter mines across the asteroid belt, before having what freighters she had, including Jarral's flagship, lie in position within the belt, their drive cores set to detonate at a moment's notice. She had also had the power meant for Petrovsky's forcefields rerouted to his cannons, bringing them online and resetting their hostile IFF transponder to Cerberus. As a result, she watches in glee as her mines and dummy ships detonate, destroying dozens of Cerberus warships before her cannons open fire, destroying several more. With the geth warships encroaching upon them under cloak, the two Cerberus fleets retreat and, despite heavy geth pursuit, they manage to escape with minimal casualties. Smiling, Aria declares to herself that Omega is officially hers again, and believes sufficiently the Illusive Man won't risk another assault anytime in the near future. The UGC's foothold in the Terminus Systems is permanent until further notice.

 **Chapter 59: Miracle of Palaven** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter would have opened from Garrus' POV. On the Citadel, Garrus, while checking up on the turian refugees in the refugee camp, finds Sidonis helping the refugees. Garrus approaches the turian, and despite Sidonis being hesitant, the two of them engage in conversation, talking about the old days, specifically their escapades during the war against crime on Omega. Eventually, Garrus leaves, but tells Sidonis that if he needs anything, that he contacts Bailey and drops Garrus' name. Garrus finds that while he still hasn't forgiven Sidonis for his betrayal, and a part of him hates him for it, he finds that Sidonis isn't as evil as he thought, and in that, the two can find some common ground.

 **Section 2** :

This section would have been from Kal'Reegar's POV. Kal and Madi'Reegar, during Operation Guardian (part of Operation Hornet's Nest, the massive UGC operation to harass, sabotage and destroy Reaper concentration camps, production facilities, bomb key Reaper strategic positions, lead their forces into traps, etc), along with the rest of their quarian Skylord squad (Squad Taurash), cover krogan and hanar forces as they sneak up on a Reaper destroyer from behind, the Reaper in question busy engaging a nearby turian frigate that is keeping it distracted. Operation Guardian, an operation to sneak a dark energy bomb onto the Destroyer in question, and causing a large enough distraction to lure in enough Reapers to be consumed in the blast, is a significant and ambitious plan, involving cooperation between turian, krogan, hanar and quarian troops. They manage to take out husk after husk until one of the krogan finally manages to sneak a dark energy bomb onto the Reaper's back. The krogan is forced to jump when the Destroyer learns of their plan, and is killed by the impact, but the mission is a success, as the turian frigate reports at least four  _Sovereign_ -class and six  _Destroyer_ -class Reapers are inbound. All UGC forces in the area are ordered to withdraw, but not before the Reaper ships arrive, smashing their positions with hordes of husks, trapping Kal and Madi's squad in bottleneck. The turians offer evac, and with the squad being overwhelmed, Kal and Madi rush for the evac zone. Just as they reach it however, Kal realizes they'll never get off the ground with the husks on their tail. Forced to make a choice, he pries the detonator for the bomb from one of the wounded marines, and shoves Madi into the hands of a krogan commando, who nods in understanding. Madi desperately tries to rush out and join him, but with the krogan holding her down, she is helpless to do anything as Kal orders the shuttle to take off. She forces herself to watch as Kal makes a defiant last stand, using a geth spitfire to mow down dozens of husks at a time. Back on the ground, just as the shuttle reaches a safe distance, and he's being swarmed by husks, he hits the detonator. He is temporarily blinded by a bright purple light, and then Kal, and everything in six kilometers of the blast radius, is instantly vaporized.

 **Section 3** :

This section would have been from Shepard's POV. On the  _Normandy_ , just a few hours after what UGC troops are calling the 'Miracle of Palaven' (the name given to the successful Guardian operation that saw the destruction of thousands of husk troops and ten Reapers, along with the bonus of temporarily halting the Reaper advance and forcing them to  _retreat_ for the first time in the entire war, if only briefly), Shepard is reading the casualty reports, and comes across Kal's name. He realizes with some horror that Kal was killed during the battle, having been the one to detonate the bomb. He heads down to engineering to inform Tali of Kal's death, but finds she already knows, as she had contacted Madi just after the battle concluded to chat. It is there, crying into Shepard's shoulder, that she reveals Madi is pregnant.

 **Chapter 60: Force of Will Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

The chapter would have opened up from Liara's POV. Liara receives a message from one of her agents in Asari High Command, who informs her that they have lost contact with an asari commando team, codenamed Blue Thunder, sent to an Ardat-Yakshi monastery on Lesuss to initiate the NIGHTWIND contingency, as Command feared an Ardat-Yakshi quarantine breach with the Reapers having attacked the planet. Liara immediately informs Shepard, telling him that taking out this monastery is considered highly important by High Command. Marcus asks what the NIGHTWIND contingency is, and Liara states that it is an asari military failsafe in case an Ardat-Yakshi monastery is compromised and the risk of Ardat-Yakshi escaping is considered imminent. To contain this, an asari commando team is dispatched to the compromised monastery to detonate a highly volatile neutron bomb; in this way, all organic matter within the facility is vaporized, leaving the monastery intact, but killing all Ardat-Yakshi inside, allowing for later recovery and repopulation of the facility. Marcus argues the ethics of such a maneveur, but remembers Morinth, and the danger just one Ardat-Yakshi poses. However, he wonders why the asari would prioritize something seemingly less important than fighting Reapers, but Liara explains that the Republics doesn't want an Ardat-Yakshi outbreak and having them run amok in the middle of a war. Given that the commandos have fallen silent, it is likely the monastery is more than compromised, and that the asari cannot spare the resources needed for a larger strike. Shepard agrees to help, and the  _Normandy_ dispatches for Lesuss.

 **Section 2** :

This section would have been from Shepard's POV. Shepard deploys with Liara, Keeling and Javik only, with the rest of the squad on standby in case things go sideways. They note that the monastery looks heavily damaged, but otherwise there is no evidence of any lingering occupation forces; no Reapers or Cerberus. They find a kodiak shuttle with the Asari Republican color scheme, as well as a skycar, the latter of which arrived after the shuttle. Continuing inside, they notice the lights are off, but can hear high-pitched electronic screeching; the body of a dead Cannibal later confirms their fears that the monastery was attacked by the Reapers, but are unable to recognize the source of the high-pitched screeches. Shepard contacts Cortez and orders Moses to be put on standby due to the Reaper presence. They later find Phora's body like the commandos had, Liara expressing disgust at the body's mutilation. Moving out into the courtyard, they are engaged by Reaper forces, which are led by one of the enhanced Banshees. Killing all other Reaper forces, the squad struggles to battle the enhanced Banshee, with Marcus, Liara and Javik finding it nearly impossible to penetrate its barriers with their biotics, and the creature is too fast to get an accurate bead on it, making their tactics useless, just as with the commando squad. Shepard watches with confusion as the Banshee turns to Tali, eyes starting to glow intensely. In moments, Tali begins to complain about a headache, which turns into a migraine, throwing her aim off. She turns to Shepard, expressing confusion, but raises her shotgun at him. She fights against it, screaming in pain, but her aim doesn't waver. She is tackled by Liara to the ground, but then Shepard begins to feel it when the Banshee turns its attention to him, and he quickly realizes the creature can somehow influence minds through limited mind control. Suffering from a growing headache, he gets a glimpse into the Banshee's mind: from there, he realizes the enhanced Banshees are actually huskified Ardat-Yakshi, whose genetic defect has been weaponized by the Reapers, effectively allowing the 'Super Banshee' to exhibit its own form of indoctrination, influencing the minds of those around it, but only on a few people at a time: the perfect weapon to sow dissention in enemy ranks.

Screaming in defiance, Tali holds her head in agony as the Super Banshee wears down her mind: Shepard realizes if this continues, the subject will be rendered mindless (just as Ardat-Yakshi do to their victims), and eventually kill them. Shepard, biting through his headache, barks for Moses to be deployed immediately, and he steadily crawls towards Tali, grabbing hold of her hand to comfort the quarian. The Super Banshee advances, knocking Javik aside, but just before it can finish them off, Moses drops from the sky, the geth prime slamming into the ground beside it, grabbing its attention. Invincible to its mind control techniques, the geth uses its pulse cannon to hammer the super Banshee, all the while Cortez deploys James and Kaidan before using the main guns on the kodiak as support. With their help, Moses breaches the Banshee's defenses and grabs it by the neck, using its immense strength to rip the Banshee's head from its spine, tossing it away and proceeding to blast its corpse asunder with a point-blank blast from its pulse cannon.

Following the Super Banshee's destruction, Shepard asks if Tali is alright, and she slowly nods, moving to stand up, only to collapse back down as she groans in pain, her head feeling like a lead weight. Unsatisified that she is fit for combat, he orders her to return to the ship and see Chakwas, to which she reluctantly agrees. Wary of the new husk type, Shepard noting that it seems like a hybrid of the Banshee and the Chimera (quarian husk) in terms of resilience in shielding, not to mention its mind control capabilities, the squad continues on, with Shepard ordering Moses, along with James and Kaidan, to accompany them inside. Tali gets on Cortez's shuttle and returns to the  _Normandy_.

 **Chapter 60: Force of Will Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens up from Shepard's POV. Moving further inside and through the corridors of the monastery, they find some areas still have partial power. They eventually come across a large open relaxation room, where they find eighteen dragon teeth; impaled on three of them are three of the missing commandos. Only one is still unmorphed however, with the other two fully transformed into banshees, but these are the normal versions. Noticing this, one of the dragon teeth descends to allow its banshee to deploy it, but Moses grabs its head and rams his omni-blade into it, killing it instantly, before using its pulse cannon to blow apart the second and third dragoon teeth. Moving further forward, they find the rest of the commandos; all of them except one has been converted into banshees, with the last one lying against a wall, purple blood having drenched her form; the body belongs to Tashya. With a sigh, Marcus orders Moses to destroy her body to stop them from transforming her. Turning to the other dead banshees, he finds that they've all been killed, with heads and limbs missing. Confused, he looks down the balcony to hear biotic warps. Rushing down, his squad behind him, they enter a room to find Samara battling a normal Banshee. She is not alone however; another asari, an Ardat-Yakshi, waits at the back, cowering. Marcus orders Liara and Keeling to keep an eye on her, before taking James and helping Samara kill the banshee. Afterwards, Marcus asks what Samara is doing here, and she says she has come for "likely the same reason you have." She requests that they do not point weapons at the Ardat-Yakshi, and that she has no intention to hurt them; she reveals the asari is one of her three daughters, Falere. Falere urges her mother to hurry, and Samara explains that Rila, her other daughter, trapped herself in the assembly hall, and the super banshees will find her eventually. When asked, Falere explains that all the other Ardat-Yakshi have been converted into super banshees; from here, Liara states that the commandos brought a neutron bomb to stop the Ardat-Yakshi containment breach, but have been unable to find it. Samara tells them that a few of the commandos managed to escape to the assembly hall, where they likely tried to arm it. Considering it never detonated, it is likely they failed. Samara emphasizes the importance of detonating it as well as rescuing Rila, and they all rush towards the assembly hall while battling Reaper forces and more super banshees.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens back up to Shepard's POV. They finally reach the assembly hall, where they find the entire room empty except for the bodies of four dead asari, and the neutron bomb at the front. Rushing forward, they find three dead commandos, one of them lying against the bomb with her scalp scraped off. Beside them is Rila, who Falere immediately rushes towards to turn over. Shaking her, they realize Rila is still alive, and her eyes open and smile at her sister. Falere takes this as joy to see her sister, and laughs happily. Rila then grabs Falere by the throat and tries to choke her, her eyes turning dark as she begins to mumble about surrendering to the Reapers. Falere screams as Rila's genetic defect begins to influence Falere, but Samara manages to release Falere from Rila's grip, holding Rila down as she begins to coax Rila to resist the indoctrination. Shepard regretfully informs Falere that her sister is indoctrinated, and that she is beyond saving. Rila, breaking free of the Reaper indoctrination, concedes Shepard's point, and pleads with Falere and the others to escape. She states that she was left there as a trap to lure them in, and that "they" (the super banshees) are coming for them all. Right then, super banshees begin pouring in, a huge horde of them coming in from every entrance. Shepard orders an evac, while Falere argues with Rila and Samara over leaving Rila behind. Samara agrees with Rila, and grabs Falere as she prepares to leave. Falere kicks and screams, while Rila smiles at her, saying "I love you" before moving to continue arming the bomb, with only the code half-dialled in due to the commando dying before being able to fully arm it. Fully arming it, Rila lies back as she watches the squad move outside for pickup, Liara placing a hand on her shoulder and saying "Goddess be with you." With that said, the entire squad, including Samara and a screaming Falere, leave on Cortez's shuttle, with the super banshees reaching the bomb. One impales Rila on its claws, pulling her up in preparation to take her to a dragoon's tooth. Rila tells it that "its done" and that "I've already armed the bomb." The super banshee realizes what's wrong, and screams as the bomb detonates, Rila smiling in defiance.

 **Chapter 61: Night Wind** :

 **Section 1** :

This chapter opens from Shepard's POV. The squad watch from the shuttle as a massive flash rocks through the entire monastery, followed by a chorus of screams. The screams are abruptly cut off after a minute, as do the flashes. Samara requests the shuttle land, and Falere ceases kicking and screaming and falls silent, simply falling to her knees and watching the monastery in the distance with a blank expression. Landing, Falere storms from the shuttle, beginning to scream at Samara at how she has failed as a mother, and that Rila could have been saved. Samara reasons that Rila sacrificed her life to ensure the super banshees did not escape, and should be regarded as a hero, but Falere refuses to hear it. Finally, Samara states that Section 106 of her Code states "No Ardat-Yakshi, regardless of predicament, importance or overall good behaviour that they may or may not possess, cannot be allowed to exist outside or without the Monastery they have been assigned to." Liara lowers her head as she realizes what this means, and Samara draws her pistol. Falere backs away, while Shepard pleads with Samara to not do what she is about to do, standing between her and Falere. Samara replies that she cannot bring herself to kill another daughter, and instead draws the pistol on  _herself_ , quoting the rest of the Ninth Oath of Reverence by saying "If a Justicar lacks the conviction to fullfill this duty, self-termination is the only viable retribution." Samara says goodbye as she prepares to pull the trigger, but Shepard disarms her, stating that he will not allow Samara to kill herself. Samara tries to fight him off, but he holds her in place with a stasis, unwilling to let her carry out her duty. Falere steps in, stating that she has no intention of leaving the monastery, and that she will instead use it as a base of operations for when the asari military inevitably arrive to use it in their defense of Lesuss. Samara rationalizes that the Code will allow this, and stands down. Shepard asks Samara to join his squad, as he could use her. Given that she has no other duties and that the Reapers must be defeated, Samara decides to join Shepard's crew, but requests time to say goodbye to her daughter. Shepard nods, and heads for the shuttle, lamenting with Liara over Rila's death, but stating that Samara should be proud of her daughter's sacrifice. He points out, in that moment, that "Morinth gave into selfishness and embraced the murderer her body turned her into. Rila destroyed herself to ensure that others of her kind could not be used as murderers. That is one hell of a sacrifice."

 **Section 2** :

This section is from Samara's POV. Samara and Falere share a moment together, apologizing for Rila's sacrifice, to which Falere tells Samara that she loves her, and that she will remember Rila's sacrifice for what it was. They discuss future prospects, and Samara discusses her life as a Justicar. Samara expresses sorrow for Falere and Rila's predicaments, and reveals that she is still haunted by Morinth's death: despite the murderer her daughter turned into, her initial act was truly driven by defiance against the injustice thrusted upon her from birth. Falere admits that the difference between them and Morinth is that they knew what had to be done. Samara nods, wishing that Falere and Rila had been allowed the freedom they deserved. Falere and Samara embrace.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Back on the  _Normandy_ , Marcus, Tali (who has recovered from the "mind rape" of the super-banshee back on Lesuss), Garrus, Kasumi and Joker force Javik to watch a documentary on the summary of Milky Way galactic history for laughs. Kasumi then stumbles upon the Fornax channel, which is playing a porno of Shepard and Tali. Hilarity ensues, with Shepard and Tali pointing out just how disgusting and unrealistic it is. The group then read out extranet articles regarding the media coverage regarding Shepard and Tali's relationship. Kasumi reads out comments from various different species and officials in regards to their learning of the relationship (would have had a Nya reference from Quantum Error, where she comments on the relationship and makes mention of her "own human", an asari matriarch, Primarch Victus, Admiral Gerrel and Koris, Jondam Bau, Urdnot Wrex, hanar, etc.). EDI mentions that the two can expect reporters to ambush them once they reach the Citadel. Shepard wonders who leaked the existence of their relationship to the public, and all eyes turn to Kasumi. The thief, to her credit, adamantly refutes the claim.

 **Chapter 62: Deliverance Returns** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens up from Banes' POV. At Cerberus' Independence Station, the  _Deliverance_ is docked, having returned from the Cerberus defeat at the Second Battle of Sahrabarik. Banes requests another update from Renata, who explains that the geth have somehow applied tactical cloak technology to their ships, and that with some resources from the Illusive Man, could apply the technology to the  _Deliverance_ ; however, the geth have had years to perfect the technology, and that their version would pale in comparison. Banes emphasizes that any edge they can get over the  _Normandy_  will ultimately allow them to better battle Shepard. Renata agrees, and promises to do her best, while Banes promises to get her the resources she needs.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens up from Illusive Man's POV. The Illusive Man fumes over his loss at Omega, and is irritated by the losses sustained, but is thankful the  _Deliverance_ at least escaped. He immediately begins to increase funds for Project: Titan. Geoff Dielheart asks whether they should try and extract Petrovsky, but the Illusive Man orders him not to bother, and after their failure to reclaim Omega, has both fleets return to Titan for reassignment and orders all Cerberus forces to abandon all plans to try and retake the station, as they are stretched too thin already: as such, he also orders at least a quarter of his forces on Aite entangled in a slow planetary campaign to be withdrawn and redeployed. He tells Geoff that all his assistants will be getting cybernetic upgrades, and that Geoff will be next up. Geoff gladly thanks him for the opportunity. The Illusive Man waves him off, too irritated by recent events.

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from the POV of Doctor Garret Bryson, the doctor in charge of the Leviathan investigation. He reaches a breakthrough on his hunt for the Leviathan of Dis, and immediately contacts Hackett. Bryson states that his work will inevitably draw the attention of the Reapers, and when that time comes, he will need adequate protection. Hackett acknowledges this, telling him that he will be sending Shepard himself to help. Bryson wonders if getting Shepard involved is truly necessary, but Hackett argues that a weapon like Leviathan is something the UGC absolutely needs in its arsenal. Bryson concedes Hackett's point, and orders Hadley to begin making preparations for Shepard's arrival.

 **Section 4** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. On the  _Normandy_ , after a long day of work, Shepard and Tali retire to their cabin, where Tali gets the idea to ring up Shala'Raan to check up on their son. Shepard agrees and they talk for a while, discussing Rannoch's development and saying hello to their son. After they close up and head to bed, they are woken up minutes later by Joker informing them Hackett is on the QEC. Shepard answers the call, finding out about Bryson's research. He decides to head straight for Bryson's lab, leaving Tali to her sleep.

_**A/N:** _

_**And that last section is the beginning of the Leviathan arc, whose outline I will release next week. The Super Banshee concept is actually an adaptation of BioWare's abandoned 'Pariah' husk concept from ME3's original script, which just happened to perfectly fit with the Ardat-Yakshi's already canonized genetic defect in terms of how it works. I also wrote this to give Kal a more fitting death than a stupid fucking email.** _

_**Overall, what are your thoughts? Let me know what you think.** _


	80. Leviathan arc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers what I had planned for the Leviathan arc, including: the Leviathans, their leader Bellerophon, the addition of the Reaper named Foehammer, Randall and Cerberus getting involved in the chase for Leviathan, etc.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - LEVIATHAN ARC**

The following chapter outline details how the Leviathan DLC would have been handled.

 **Chapter 63: The Darkness Cannot Be Breached** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter would have opened with Shepard's POV. Upon arriving on the Citadel, Shepard and Tali are, just as they warned, ambushed by reporters. Cue a series of hilarious and somewhat intrusive questions about their relationship, including reporters Emily Wong and Khalisah Bint-Sinan Al-Jilani. A few racist comments from Terra Firma result in a passionate speech about unity from Shepard, who then chastizes Terra Firma for their narrow-minded racism towards a species that could soon be helping them retake Earth. By the end, Shepard preaches that unity and strength will be what makes them strong: the protheans once believed uniformity is what promised security and victory, and the Reapers picked them apart with ease. In the end, victory will be assured by different strategies, not one. The reporters respect this and break off. Shepard and Tali part, Shepard heading to Bryson's lab while Tali goes off to negotiate a deal with the Salarian Union for the deployment of geth ships to aid with Operation Iron Curtain on Jaeto and Aegohr (the salarian plan to protect their space from eventual Reaper invasion).

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard arrives at Bryson's lab, having received Hackett's message about the Leviathan. He is greeted by Bryson, who shows him around the lab and tells him about the Leviathan of Dis. Shepard frowns, stating his belief that the Leviathan of Dis was captured by the batarians and taken to Khar'Shan. Bryson replies however that the true Leviathan is not the Reaper the batarians recovered, but the creature that killed it. The wreckage of the Leviathan of Dis did not show any actual battle damage, and that the Reaper's death was actually random; its internal servers simply stopped working. Shepard asks what kind of creature could kill a Reaper like that, and Bryson says, "The true Leviathan, captain. The true Leviathan I believe is still out there, and I believe it has been for hundreds of millions of years. The clues are there, you just have to look hard enough." Before Bryson can show his evidence though, his assistant, Derek Hadley, comes in with a pistol and shoots Bryson through the heart, killing him instantly. He aims at Shepard, but the gun jams, and the assistant panics. Marcus grabs the man's wrist and breaks it, causing him to drop the pistol. He then reaches up and slams the assistant's face against the wall, knocking him out. He reaches for his omni-tool, but Hadley's unconscious body begins to speak, its voice dark and deep, "The darkness cannot be breached!" Marcus calls for C-Sec, checking for a pulse on Bryson. To his regret, he finds none, and realizes the doctor is dead.

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Later, C-Sec arrives, securing the lab. EDI and Tali turn up, with the latter demanding to know if Shepard is alright; he says he's fine, but states that Bryson is dead. He moves to interrogate Hadley, who says he has no idea what happened, and begins to break down when he realizes Bryson is dead. Shepard tells him that he killed Bryson, to which Hadley screams and weeps that he doesn't remember doing such a thing. Shepard is inclined to believe him, but has C-Sec take him away anyway. Shepard reveals his belief that Hadley is exhibiting tell-tale signs of indoctrination, a theory that EDI agrees with.

 **Section 4** :

One of the C-Sec officers taking Hadley away is revealed to be a Cerberus agent named Kyle Hark. Realizing the significance of his find, he reports the development to the Illusive Man once he is alone, knowing that Cerberus will be interested in this Leviathan development.

 **Chapter 64: What do you see, Mr. Holmes?** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard curses as he orders C-Sec to run a sweep of the lab, with Bryson's body having already been collected by forensics and taken to the morgue. Garrus arrives, followed by Kasumi, Shepard saying that he needs their help covering the lab to find any evidence of Bryson's ventures. When asked why, he states that Bryson was onto something, and that finding the Leviathan before the Reapers do must be a priority, as Bryson believed it was important to do so. Searching the lab, Garrus eventually turns up a datapad detailing the investigations of a man named Sullivan Garneau, one of Bryson's chief scientists on Task Force Aurora. They find out that he left for an asteroid called Mahavid in the Aysur System of the Caleston Rift. He explains that Bryson sent him there to follow a lead on the Leviathan, and that this could be their first lead. Marcus agrees and has James stay behind at the lab to keep it secure and make sure nobody messes with the equipment there. The rest enter the skycar and return to the  _Normandy_.

 **Section 2** :

This section is from Harbinger's POV. On Earth in London,  _Harbinger_  recovers information from the Illusive Man's mind that reveals that Shepard is onto the Leviathan. Wanting to find and destroy the last of the Leviathans, he sends  _Foehammer_ , a  _Scarab_ -class swiper, to track Shepard's movements.

 **Section 3** :

This section is from the Illusive Man's POV. The Illusive Man learns of Shepard's intentions, and contacts Banes to order him to send Randall with a squad of phantoms and dragoons to Mahavid, where he hopes to capture Sullivan Garneau, before Shepard gets there. The hope is that Cerberus can get to the Leviathan first, the Illusive Man hoping to get back at Shepard for the interference on the Citadel and Omega.

 **Chapter 65: Where are Thou, Garneau?** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. The  _Normandy_ arrives over Mahavid, unknowingly with  _Foehammer_  in tow, who hides in the asteroid belt. Shepard, along with Tali and Keeling, deploy on the shuttle onto Mahavid, only for  _Foehammer_  to begin deploying forces all over the asteroid in an attempt to find Garneau before he does. The squad manages to break through the Reaper forces congregating at the entrance, and seal the door behind them. Once inside, they begin to investigate the T-GES Mineral Works facility after receiving a cold, monotone reception from the receptionists. They ask where Garneau is, but noone seems to possess the necessary information, as they repeatedly claim they do not know who Garneau is. Fed up with a lack of answers, Marcus has Tali hack one of the mainframe terminals in the manager's office to find a passenger manifest. They uncover deleted video footage of Garneau's freighter arriving, accompanied by an incident report stating that Garneau was wounded in the mines and taken to the facility's medbay. With that in mind, Marcus, Tali and Keeling head for the medbay.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Randall's POV. Randall's shuttle arrives in system to find  _Foehammer_  besieging Mahavid, but are oblivious to the  _Normandy_ 's presence. With this in mind, they descend upon Mahavid, unaware that  _Foehammer_  has intentionally let them through as it recognizes them as indoctrinated agents. Randall orders his men to avoid a confrontation with Shepard if possible, as their mission is a quick snatch-and-grab, and fighting Shepard's squad when they appear would only delay them. Randall mentally expresses elation that Leng is not present for the operation.

 **Chapter 66: Race for Three** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. The squad manage to sneak their way into the medbay, where they eventually find Garneau's room. Unable to access the room directly, they approach it from the glass observation window, with Shepard knocking on the window. Garneau immediately wakes up, turning towards them with confusion. Shepard states that he is there to help him get out, and Garneau thanks him, albeit something is off about the man; he seems just as monotone as the other miners. Tali then appears with a datapad, saying that there is an unsent message from Garneau that reveals that he is worried for his life. Garneau demands to know where she found it, and begins to get violent. Finally, he lunges at the window, banging his fists angrily on it. Marcus asks him to calm down, but suddenly Garneau's voice changes, sounding like the dark and deep tone that Derek had, stating that "The darkness cannot breached!" once more. He then grabs the bed, suddenly possessing superhuman strength as he picks it up and tosses it through the window, shattering the glass. Shepard and Tali immediately drop to the ground, but the bed clips Keeling, sending her flying into the window opposite them, cracking the glass. The bed falls onto the ground, with Keeling landing in a heap, groaning. Garneau leaps through the window, running off down the corridor. Shepard yells at him to stop, but he does not listen and he runs outside, towards the exit. Shepard and Tali immediately stand, with Keeling also standing, albeit slightly bruised. They pursue Garneau outside and continue to chase him towards the elevator leading into the mines when  _Foehammer_  deploys more Reaper troops, led by a Banshee. Despite initially struggling, Shepard, Tali and Keeling kill the Reaper forces, and continue their pursuit of Garneau.

 **Section 2** :

This section opens with Randall's POV. Randall and his squad arrive inside the base, where the miners openly order them to leave, stating that the darkness cannot be breached: as part of their warning, they make a passing mention of "previous visitors seeking Garneau", and Randall realizes Shepard has somehow gotten to Mahavid before they did. Eventually, the miners charge the squad all at once, and Randall has them all gunned down before rushing towards the medbay. Cursing his luck, he orders his men to spread out, hoping to cover all possible exits while he heads for the med bay alone.

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard decides to take the stairs down to the mines, as he wants to catch up with Garneau as soon as possible. In his rush, he leaves Keeling and Tali behind, but blasts through the husks regardless. Finally, he reaches the bottom of the mines, where he finds Garneau next to a glowing white orb. Husks surround him and begin to converge on all sides. Garneau notices him, once again chanting that the darkness cannot be breached before detonating a grenade he had been holding, the blast consuming Garneau, the orb and the husks around him. Dazed by the explosion, Marcus gets up just as Tali and Keeling arrive. He tells them that Garneau is dead, and was exhibiting tendencies much like those of indoctrinated agents. More miners emerge, but this time appear confused. When Marcus mentions the Reapers, they ask what Reapers are, and when asked what the year is, they say it is 2176; ten years ago. This proves to Marcus that the miners have been indoctrinated for ten years. Marcus contacts Cortez for a pickup, telling the squad that he plans on telling Hackett about the state of Mahavid.

 **Section 4** :

This section opens from Randall's POV. Randall and his squad, after fruitlessly searching the mining facility, watch as  _Foehammer_ 's troops begin to pull out, realizing they are too late. Cursing, Randall orders the shuttle to be brought around for extraction, only to receive an update on Ann Bryson: Dr. Bryson's daughter. She is on Namakli, and he is ordered to get to the planet before Shepard does. The Illusive Man sends him a squad of Shadow Force troopers, knowing the importance of getting to Leviathan before Shepard. Randall, knowing he must be well and truly ahead of Shepard this time, leaps on the opportunity to strike first, and leaves on the shuttle with the rest of his team.

 **Chapter 67: Back to Square One** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Arriving back at Bryson's lab several days later, Shepard, EDI, Tali and Garrus walk in, rousing a tired James from his sleep, who has set up his bed in the middle of the lab. They inform James that Garneau is dead, and that they once again have no leads. James curses their luck, which Shepard concedes. While aimlessly looking around, Shepard notices an orb on top of a stand that looks exactly like the one on Mahavid. Feeling an ache in his head that he recognizes, he orders Tali to raise the containment shield around that orb. The quarian does so, and once the field is up, the ache in his head lifts. Shepard explains that he believes the orb acts a signal booster for the indoctrination, which was how the miners were able to break free when the orb was destroyed. Garrus begins to truly wonder if they really want to find Leviathan, as it seems more and more that the creature might be a Reaper itself. While looking around, Kasumi appears out of cloak, holding a picture frame in her hand. The picture is of a young woman, and the thief explains that it is signed as Ann Bryson, Garret Bryson's daughter. Shepard frowns at this, wondering whether or not Ann could give them any leads. EDI runs a scan on Bryson's computer, and finds information pertaining to a Project Basilisk; Garneau's operation on Mahavid. However, she also found information on Project: Beowulf, although any information on it was wiped from the server by Derek Hadley before he murdered Bryson. Shepard wonders where she could have gone, when EDI stumbles across information on a ship called the  _Icarus_ , a  _Athabasca_ -class freighter. Garrus also finds that the equipment locker has been emptied, and that it usually consists of EVA equipment. With this information, and given the amount of fuel the  _Icarus_ was filled with, EDI manages to narrow her location down to Namakli in the Zaherin System, Pylos Nebula. With this information, Shepard has James stay back again, despite the marine's grumbling. He jokes that he'll at least have Kasumi for company, as the thief will be staying behind as well. Everyone else leaves with Shepard.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from the Illusive Man's POV. The Illusive Man learns of Shepard's new lead, and relays this information to Randall and his team, who is one day out from Namakli, giving them fair warning. This unknowingly also allows  _Foehammer_  to once again preemptively launch an assault on Namakli, with  _Foehammer_  tracking the  _Deliverance_.

 **Chapter 68: Asset, Lost and Found** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Ann Bryson's POV. While working with her cohorts in their prefab buildings on Namakli, Ann and her team are ambushed by Randall and his Shadow Force unit, and their hired ExoGeni security team is immediately overrun and killed, forcing Ann and her colleagues to surrender. Randall begins interrogating her, demanding to know where the Leviathan is, despite her inability to tell her. He kills one of her colleagues, insisting that she cannot continue to play dumb. She refuses in spite of this, refusing to compromise the war effort. Just when Randall is about to execute another of her colleagues, they are interrupted when  _Foehammer_ arrives and begins besieging the area. Forced to move, Randall orders his Shadow Force unit to grab Ann and the scientists and head for the extraction point.

 **Section 2** :

This section opens from Shepard's POV. The  _Normandy_ arrives over Namakli, and Shepard, with Javik, Garrus and Moses, deploy onto the ground to save Ann, oblivious to Randall's presence until coming across their shuttle. They dash across the collapsing structures as harvesters continue to bombard the area, desperate to reach Ann first. They battle husks, harvesters and the odd Cerberus soldier as they make their way across the deteriorating landscape.

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Randall's POV. Randall and his team are escorting Ann back to their shuttle, his men dying as the structures fall apart around them and harvesters continue to bombard them. He eventually reaches the kodiak, only to watch as Cortez arrives, his kodiak destroying Randall's. Shepard suddenly appears, killing one of the Shadow Force soldiers from behind before grabbing Ann and pulling her to safety, using suppression fire to keep Randall and the rest of his squad pinned. Randall and his men, completely surrounded, move to retreat. He engages Shepard in a brief hand-to-hand, until the both of them are seperated by a descending Harvester. They temporarily join forces to bring it down, before Marcus turns and catches Randall offguard with a pistol whip. When his squad is finished slaughtering the remaining Cerberus, they reach a shuttle extraction point. Randall appears and opens fire on the shuttle, but they manage to escape regardless, and in a bout of quick thinking, the Cerberus soldier tosses a tracker onto the retreating shuttle. He watches calmly as the shuttle extracts into the atmosphere. Realizing he is the only survivor of his team, he calls the  _Deliverance_ for extraction, his shuttle destroyed by the attacking Reaper forces.

 **Chapter 69: The Darkness Crawls** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Arriving back at Bryson's lab on the Citadel, Ann is still reeling from learning about her father's death. Despite this, she manages to overcome her grief to offer Shepard an idea; if he drops the containment shield around the orb, she can allow the Leviathan to seize control of her, and thus allow EDI to triangulate the signal and trace it to its source. Shepard asks if that'll work, to which EDI states it will, as the orb is simply used as a transmitter to project the indoctrination; a transmission that leaves behind a signal and, therefore, a trace. James is reluctant to allow this, but Ann overrules him, begging Shepard to let her do so. He agrees, but has James hold her down so she does not get too violent. Sitting her down, they drop the field, and the Leviathan seizes control of Ann, taunting Shepard. EDI manages to successfully triangulate the position, and the field is put back in place. EDI informs Shepard that the Leviathan is located on 2181 Despoina in the Psi Tophet System of the Sigurd's Cradle Cluster. Kasumi then appears, revealing that she found a Cerberus spy eavesdropping on them, and that she has dealt with him, confirming to Shepard how  _Foehammer_  and Cerberus was able to predict their moves. Shepard finally orders James to accompany them as they return to the  _Normandy_ to finally solve the mystery, with James giving a 'whoop' of excitement as he finally gets to take part in the operation.

 **Section 2** :

This section opens from Shepard's POV. The  _Normandy_ arrives over Despoina, and the shuttle is deployed to the surface with the full squad. On the way there, Garrus once again asks if Leviathan is an ally worth having, to which Shepard says that "the enemy of my enemy is my friend," ending the conversation. Cortez informs them that Leviathan's signature is coming from several miles under the ocean, and begins to descend into the water. The shuttle is hit by a massive EMP pulse, which causes the shuttle to crash on the hull of a wrecked starship, and look out across the stormy ocean as they observe the hundreds of wrecked ships; Garrus remarks that its like the Collector Base all over again. Written along the ship's side is the name 'MSV  _Monarch_ ' which Shepard states makes the ship well over thirty years old, as the  _Monarch_ was a B7-class exploration craft deployed by the Alliance just before the Relay 314 Incident. Cortez informs them that the shuttle cannot take off anymore, and that if he tries to take off again, there's a chance of the same EMP pulse taking them down again. Shepard acknowledges this just as  _Foehammer_ arrives over Despoina, dropping Reaper forces all over the ship. Marcus and his squad battle the Reaper forces while trying to find a way to reach Leviathan; meanwhile, Cortez goes about restoring power to the shuttle. Finally, they manage to find several, still functional Triton mechs; Marcus boards one, surprised that it still has power, but realizes that the mech is rated for deep-sea exploration. He orders his squad to hold the fort while he dives down to confront the Leviathan. Keeling is skeptical as to how he will get back, but Marcus rationalizes that they can worry about that later. After reassuring Tali that he will be alright, he takes the dive.

 **Section 3** :

This section is from Randall's POV. As the  _Deliverance_ enters the system and enters orbit over Despoina, the shuttle is deployed and rushes towards the location of Shepard's shuttle. Upon arriving however, their shuttle is taken out by the same EMP that crippled Shepard's shuttle, and they soon crash land opposite Shepard's squad's position. Advancing forward, they quickly engage each other, Randall eying off a nearby Triton mech. Seeing as Shepard is not present, and it looks like one of the Triton mechs is missing, Randall makes the reasonable guess that Shepard has taken one of the mechs to the ocean floor to find the Leviathans. With a mission to complete, Randall activates one of the mechs, pilots it and then dives into the water, pursuing Shepard.

 **Section 4** :

From Tali's POV. Fighting off both Cerberus and Reaper forces (who are also fighting each other), Tali watches Randall emerge and head for one of the Triton mechs. She fires at him, but is unable to stop him as he gets into the mech and quickly heads for the edge of the ship. With no alternative, Tali improvizes and quickly hacks the mech, uploading one of her virus programs just as Randall dives into the water, disappearing. Tali tries to warn Shepard through the comms, but is unable to reach him, as he is too far below.

 **Chapter 70: The Darkness Has Been Breached** :

 **Section 1** :

This section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard descends into Despoina's ocean slowly and gradually, eventually losing contact with his squad on the surface altogether. Reaching the bottom, he traverses the sea floor until he finds a cavern under the ground, where he finally confronts the Leviathan. It seizes control of his mind, speaking to him through Jacob, Mordin, Thane and Legion. It reveals its name as Bellerophon, and that it is not a Reaper, but rather one of the last members of the species that birthed the Reapers. Its race, known as the Leviathans, ruled the galaxy billions of years ago, keeping other, "lower" races in check. It explains that those times were full of chaos, as the other races were free to evolve and develop technology. During those times, races were able to develop weapons of mass destruction capable of wiping out solar systems, creating armies of nanonmachines, or terraforming planets. The Leviathans, viewing themselves as the "Apex Race" also tried to spread into another galaxy called Andromeda, but were driven out after five bloody conflicts with the technologically equal Jardaan. By the end, the Leviathans were finally forced to create the Great Intelligence at an artificial planet called Infinity in dark space in order to find a solution to stopping the organics from destroying each other. In that moment, the Great Intelligence betrayed them, creating an army of hyper-advanced machines called the Nazara, known then as the Proto-Reapers, at Infinity. It reasoned that it was not organics that needed saving, but the galaxy from the organics. As a solution to both problems, it decided that all organic races needed to be destroyed periodically to ensure that a level of technology such as the one possessed can never be reached, and therefore preserving the galaxy. As a result, all races were harvested, with the Leviathans being first; the Leviathans, now harvested, became the first Reaper:  _Harbinger_. The Great Intelligence then transported Infinity into the Widow system, where the Citadel was built around it; the artificial planet was broken down, with only its core being kept for the Citadel. As the cycles perputuated, more and more Reapers were created, therefore replacing more of the Proto-Reapers. Fifteen cycles later, the Proto-Reapers were made obsolete and entirely replaced by the "perfected" Reapers. Bellerophon explains that only seven Leviathans are left, and they live on Despoina, which used to be called Gregana Prima; their homeworld. Marcus, after a long argument with Bellerophon, eventually convinces the Leviathans to rise up and fight with the UGC to destroy the Reapers. Bellerophon agrees, but says it is "doing it because the Reapers are traitors, and that we are the true apex race." With that, they free Shepard's mind, allowing him to return to the surface. Before he can however, the Leviathans warn him of a new presence, and Shepard turns the mech around just in time to watch as Randall arrives in his own mech. Shepard tries to convince Randall to stand down, but he refuses. The two of them fight in hand-to-hand in the mechs, but just as Randall seems to gain the upperhand, his mech begins to malfunction as a result of Tali's program, which quickly causes his mech to seize up. Moments later, the pressurization of the mech destabilizes, and the canopy opens. Randall screams as water pours into his mech and, as a combination of the intense water pressure, he is liquified and crushed in an instant. The Leviathans declare their amusement at the gesture, and Shepard makes his way back towards the surface.

 **Section 2** :

This section is from Garrus' POV. On the surface, his squad are still fighting Reaper forces (with Randall's squad wiped out) when Shepard returns to the surface, leaving the Triton only to collapse to the ground, exhausted. Tali rescues him just before a Brute can crush him. As they run away, the Brute behind them suddenly stops moving, as do the rest of the Reaper forces. Looking on in confusion, the Reaper forces turn around and walk away slowly, and Marcus explains that Leviathan has used the orbs to seize control of them. With this in mind, they board the shuttle and ascend into the atmosphere.  _Foehammer_  descends in an attempt to kill them, but the Leviathans take control of  _Foehammer_  as well, dragging the Reaper under the water. Shepard tells the squad that Randall Ezno is dead, and the Leviathans have joined the war.

 **Chapter 71: Lamentations** :

 **Section 1** :

This chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Back on the  _Normandy_ , Shepard explains to Hackett who the Leviathans are, and that they will join the UGC against the Reapers. Hackett states he will dispatch troops to recover the orbs and distribute them across the galaxy, explaining that such power on their side will really turn the tide of the war. Shepard agrees and cuts the connection. Afterwards, Shepard confides with his crew in a meeting, explaining that while he believes the Leviathans are going to be difficult to trust, they are an undeniable asset that the UGC cannot afford to turn down. The crew agrees. Moment between Shepard and Tali.

 **Section 2** :

This section opens from Corinthus' POV. A week later, leading an attack on Menae, his krogan, turian and batarian troops watch in astonishment as a Reaper Destroyer turns on another destroyer, firing at it and slicing the Reaper in half, before proceeding to bombard its own huskified forces. The husks also turn on each other, tearing each other to pieces, and forcing the Reapers to fall back until the indoctrinated Destroyer is eliminated. After all is done, Commander Osei Rentola of the STG appears to speak with Corinthus, explaining that an old species has an old score to settle with the Reapers. The turian general begins to wonder what other surprises Shepard has in store for them: first an alliance with the krogan, now the Reaper's own creators. Corinthus can't help but laugh.

 **Section 3** :

This section is from Anderson's POV. Anderson and his chapter of the resistance arrive in London, as do the majority of the resistance forces from across the world. He meets with Coats, who further explains the situation. He heads to the top of a building to observe the Beam that Coats is talking about, and marvels at the size of  _Harbinger_ , who is standing guard at the Beam itself. Anderson realizes that without UGC assistance soon, attacking that Beam will be suicide. He heads back inside their new HQ, beginning to plan with Coats for the resistance's increased operations in London.

_**A/N:** _

_**And that's the Leviathan arc. I felt Cerberus wouldn't be able to resist getting involved in the hunt for an asset like the Leviathan, so having them involved seemed appropriate. It also gave me a chance to give Randall more of the spotlight, as Leng seems to get more of it whenever the two are present. And considering Randall dies in this arc, giving him the spotlight and making him the villain of this arc was even more necessary. I also feel that ME3 didn't take into account just how much of a game changer the Leviathans are for the war effort, and that would've been heavily emphasized in the final battle.** _

_**Next outline post will be the Thessia-Horizon plot.** _


	81. Thessia-Horizon plots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers what I had planned for the Thessia and Horizon missions, including: Leng bringing reinforcements, Keeling's death, the conclusion to the Operation Keyhold subplot, Miranda joining the crew, etc.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - THESSIA AND HORIZON PLOTS**

The following chapter outline details how the Thessia and Horizon parts of the plot would have been handled.

 **Chapter 72: The Future Conquers the Past** :

 **Section 1** :

Shepard decides to hold a movie night with the original crew, where they watch the film "The Citadel", which is supposed to be a historically accurate representation of the Eden Prime War and the  _Normandy_ 's escapades at the time. Shepard, Tali, Liara, Garrus, Kaidan, Joker, Chakwas and Adams all take time off to watch it; Kasumi manages to sneak in and watch it as well. The rest of the section follows with each crew member pointing out the individual things wrong with the movie, and everything they got wrong. After the movie is over, Kasumi decloaks and announces that a sequel is in the works titled "The Citadel II: Rise of the Collectors". They all sigh, hoping it gets cancelled.

 **Section 2** :

Liara approaches Javik and she asks more questions about prothean history. Once thing leads to another, and Javik ends up touching the Echo Shard, where he is forced to live through his crew's deaths. The entire scene flashes back to the moment on his old ship, where he is forced to kill his own crew, who are indoctrinated. Back in the present, he lets go, and says that once the war is over, he will join his crew. Liara urges him to reconsider, telling him that the best part of vengeance is to witness what comes after, and she leaves. Javik ponders her words, wondering if she might be right.

 **Section 3** :

James approaches Keeling, having cooked breakfast and wanting to share it with her. Keeling, finally warming up to James, joins him, and he talks about his uncle. She eventually reveals her mentor to have been Alec Ryder, the first N7, and that the many lessons he taught her still guide her life today. He states that he feels Keeling is not the person she pretends to be, and that the shell she has made will eventually crack to reveal the person underneath; he calls her beautiful, and states that he has grown to appreciate her. He moves in and the two of them kiss briefly, before Keeling pulls away and asks him to leave, pretending to clean her weapons. James leaves, and Keeling's shell finally cracks, and she weeps.

 **Chapter 73: Ratio Decidendi** :

 **Section 1** :

Once back on the Citadel, Shepard is immediately summoned by Councilor Tevos. In the spectre office, she explains that she has information on the Catalyst that she can't discuss in her office, and which is privy to only the highest levels of her government, with Sparatus. Osoba and Valern kept in the dark. She states that the Reapers have suddenly launched a simultaneous invasion of both Sur'Kesh and Thessia, and that for the first time in history, Thessia is being directly invaded. She explains that in the Temple of Athame holds the key to finding the Catalyst, and possibly the Catalyst itself. When Shepard requests further information, she blocks him, simply telling him to go to Thessia to find out for himself. Despite being skeptical of her intentions, he gives in, essentially desperate for information on the Catalyst, and leaves.

 **Section 2** :

Hackett continues to overwatch construction of the Crucible, noting that it is almost complete, and all they will need is the Catalyst to complete its construction. He meets with Dr. Brynn Cole and Daro'Xen, who have been working together on the project. Daro'Xen expresses disinterest towards the Crucible, and refuses to work with the geth engineers assisting her own team. Hackett insists she work with them, reminding her that the Reapers don't care about her disinterest. Daro'Xen finally relents, and Cole reveals in private that she's skeptical of the project's success without the Catalyst. Hackett returns her fears, but tells her to complete it nonetheless. He leaves to get an update from Shepard.

 **Section 3** :

James and Keeling share a moment together, where Keeling finally admits that James is a pretty decent guy and that she would like to know him a little more, and apologizes for her behaviour. James grins, and they kiss once more, for much longer this time; they get more intimate, Keeling working on his belt buckle. He stops her, worried about her experience with rape, but she states that she will no longer let her past determine her future. He smiles, and asks if she would mind quiet sex; she nods, and he picks her up and takes her behind a series of crates. Implied sex.

 **Chapter 74: Beauty and Blood** :

 **Season 1** :

The  _Normandy_ arrives over Thessia and deploys the shuttle, with Liara being distressed as she watches Armali being besieged by the Reapers. Javik orders her to get a grip, and to hone her anger to direct it at the Reapers. Keeling nods in agreement, backing up the prothean's statement. With that being said, the squad deploys and aids Lieutenant Kurin's platoon against a Reaper assault. Shepard eventually manages to convince Kurin to let them through the barricade, while Kurin directs them to seek support from Outpost Tykis, who were set up to defend the Temple, and the squad moves towards the Temple of Athame.

 **Section 2** :

Later, during the fighting, they come across an asari justicar named Ramalya, who Samara greets personally. Together, Ramalya helps them get to the Temple. The eventually reach Outpost Tykis, only to find it overrun, with the last survivor barely holding out against the Reaper troops. Requiring air support, the survivor calls in Talon Four and Five, and the Mantis gunships quickly approach and rain fire on the enemy troops. Talon Four is shot down and killed, but Talon Five continues to take down harvesters and provide air support all the way to the Temple. Eventually, an Oculi appears and obliterates the gunship, but by this point the squad has already reached the Temple. Two justicars are required to access the Temple, so Samara and Ramalya use the consoles to bring the barrier down and let them inside. Ramalya remains at the entrance, keeping an eye out for enemy hostiles.

 **Section 3** :

Once inside, Shepard has his squad spread out, keeping their weapons raised. Reaching the main statue of Athame, they find the slumped bodies of the asari scientists. Sighing, he searches their bodies and finds a datapad describing what the Athame Project was. The more he looked over the data, the more angry he got. Liara, noticing his anger, approached him, and at that moment he cracked, tossing the datapad away. He rages on about how the asari have been hiding it all along. Liara asks what he is talking about, when Javik interrupts her, raising his particle rifle and firing. Liara screams, as does Samara, as they watch the statue of Athame burst apart, but they do not assault Javik when they see what lies beneath: a prothean library. Javik frowns as he looks at Liara, shaking his head. Shepard reveals that the asari have had the library for thousands of years, and have been keeping it for themselves, despite the Citadel laws regarding the sharing of prothean technology. Javik realizes that this was how the asari managed to become so advanced. Liara is disgusted by her government's actions, and Shepard demands to know if Samara knew; the justicar admits that she did not. When Javik accesses the library however, the prothean VI named Vendetta is released, and they converse with it, with Javik convincing it to tell them where the Catalyst is. Before it can tell them however, it detects an indoctrinated presence, and enters standby mode. Turning towards the entrance, his squad is shocked to see a head rolling towards them. Landing at Shepard's feet, they see it is Ramalya's head. Looking up, they watch Leng casually walking towards them, cleaning his sword as he grins, Cerberus troops filing into the room around them as a gunship lingers at the entrance. Using a holodrone, Marcus converses with the Illusive Man, and they once again argue over who is right. Just as Shepard is about to convince him, the Illusive Man orders Leng to kill them and retrieve Vendetta. Shepard and his squad engage Leng and his forces. Shepard fights Leng first, followed by Javik, who is quickly defeated. Shepard engages him again, then James. Finally, Leng and his forces defeat his squad. James attacks Leng and just as he is about to be killed, Keeling intervenes, and Keeling spits in his face, calling him a traitor. The two then fight as the rest of the squad begin to fight back against Leng's ground troops, cutting through them. Surrounded by enemies, he orders his gunship to target the supports with missiles, and the Temple begins to fall apart as Leng casually retrieves Vendetta and moves to leave. Keeling engages him again, but Leng reminds her of her past, trying to distract her with memories of her rape, but she bites through it, and punches him in the gut (unbeknownst to Leng, placing a tracer on him), before being impaled through the chest. James watches as Leng pushes her off and then kicks Keeling down into the collapsing Temple, where she plummets to her death. James screams in rage, but is unable to reach Leng, and Shepard grabs him on his way out. The team escape the Temple as it fully caves in on itself, sealing Keeling's fate. The crew listen on the comm as Kurin's position is overrun, while the Reapers continue to burn Armali to the ground. Shepard, furious over their defeat, barks for an evac, the squad watching as Leng's gunship flies off into the distance.

 **Chapter 75: Games of Indoctrination** :

 **Section 1** :

Shepard informs the asari councilor of their defeat, and that Thessia has fallen. Tevos accuses him of failing his mission, to which he snaps back that had she told him the asari were harbouring stolen technology, he might have been more prepared. On this note, Tevos cuts the line, leaving an angry and saddened Shepard, furious at Tevos for the asari's deception and greed, but saddened by their defeat. He shrugs off Tali's attempts to reassure him, smashing his fist into the war room table as he snaps at EDI to assemble the squad. Samantha tags along, telling Marcus that she was able to pick up a signal coming from the  _Deliverance_ ; a tracer attached to one of its crew. Shepard realizes that Keeling must have placed a tracer on Leng, and silently thanks her, feeling some of his anger dissipate as he swears to avenge the soldier's sacrifice. Samantha reveals that the ship has stopped over Horizon, with Leng's signal heading to the surface into a massive refugee camp called Sanctuary. Shepard nods, and orders the  _Normandy_ to head for Horizon at full speed; he wants Leng found and dead. He takes James aside afterward, and James argues for why he should be allowed to come down with him. Shepard offers no objection, surprising James, but the commander argues that he knows how much Keeling meant to James, and that if anyone should help to make Leng pay for his atrocities, its James. The marine thanks him.

 **Section 2** :

The  _Normandy_ arrives over Horizon, and the squad (James, Tali, Samara, Kaidan and Liara) deploy in the shuttle into Sanctuary. Here, they find the entire facility having recently been attacked, with Cerberus forces looking decimated. Reaper harvesters fly around the facility, revealing that the Reapers must have found Sanctuary. Moving inside, they still encounter no resistance, with no sign of any of the refugees. Shepard surmizes that Cerberus attacked the refugee camp, and the Reapers followed them and harvested the entire population. Moving further inside, they eventually enter the main facility, where they see every single vidscreen has a recording from Miranda playing. On it, she reveals that Sanctuary is actually a Cerberus facility run by her father, Henry Lawson. She states that Cerberus has been luring refugees in for unknown purposes, and that whatever it is will be the true intentions behind Operation: Keyhold, which she had been investigating with the SIA before going lone wolf. Continuing to move through the facility in search of Leng, they find the laboratory of the facility, where they find that the refugees were hoarded into a "breeding" facility. There, Cerberus scientists proceeded to implant the refugees with cybernetics, followed by turning them into husks; the end product was the perfect soldier for Cerberus. Watching another recording left by Miranda only confirms what they now know; Sanctuary was, all along, Cerberus' source of troops: luring in refugees and turning them into foot soldiers for their army: that was the true purpose of Keyhold. Continuing further inside, killing the occassional left over Cerberus soldier, they eventually engage Reaper patrols. They find another recording left by Miranda, revealing that Leng had arrived at the facility to recover the information that her father had acquired. She plays numerous log updates from Henry's personal files, which reveal that Operation: Keyhold's true purpose, whilst providing Cerberus its army, was really intended to find a way to control the Reapers. Henry had finally managed to find a way to seize control of Reaper husks, but stated that applying that to the Reapers themselves was a massive challenge that simply wasn't surmountable. Just as the logs finish, Miranda in the recording is ambushed by Leng, and she flees. Shepard urges his squad to hurry.

 **Section 3** :

Shepard and his squad rush up the tower to find Henry holding Oriana at gunpoint, with a wounded Miranda hiding behind a desk, having been shot. Leng is nowhere to be found, Shepard demanding to know where he went. Henry explains that Leng took the information and left, abandoning Henry to the Reapers. Shepard reasons with Henry, saying he will let him leave if he lets Oriana go. Henry agrees, pushing Oriana away, but keeping his pistol drawn. Suddenly however, Miranda stands up and biotically throws him backwards, throwing her father through a window to plummet below. From there, Tali manages to deactivate the signal jammer over Sanctuary, allowing Miranda's warning to be broadcasted across the galaxy. Before leaving, Miranda and Oriana request a lift. He agrees, taking them both to the Citadel, but convinces Miranda to stay with him onboard the  _Normandy_. He angrily orders EDI to inform UGC Command of the atrocities committed on Horizon, and to send a warship to destroy the facility from orbit.

 **Chapter 76: Cheerleading Bosh'tet** :

 **Season 1** :

Kelly tells Shepard that Tali is in the lounge, trying to drink herself into a stupor. Heading there, he finds James pouring the quarian drinks, while chugging down a few of their own. Tali admits, drunkenly, how much she used to hate Miranda, but how much she now admires the woman, especially in terms of resisting her father. James reveals that he loved Keeling, and wished he had gotten more time with her: he felt like he was finally breaking through her shell to the person underneath. Eventually, the both of them have one more drink before Miranda joins them, having apparently heard everything. She thanks Tali for being honest, jokingly adding "even if you won't remember it." She then has a drink herself, before Marcus "escorts" Tali back to his cabin for sleep, but not before the five of them all share a drink in honor of "Keeling, cheerleading bosh'tets resisting their fathers and drunken quarians."

 **Section 2** :

Anderson takes another look at the Beam, theorizing with Coats as to the structure's purpose, and why  _Harbinger_ itself was personally overseeing its protection. Returning to base, a recently attacked convoy returns to the firebase, with dozens of wounded. The convoy commander reports that massive Reaper troop numbers have been reported heading for London, with millions of husks being redirected to the city. Anderson concludes that, whatever is happening, it appears London will be the galaxy's final stand. He orders Coats to begin establishing firebases, and the major rushes off to make it happen, while Anderson decides to warn Hackett via QEC.

 **Section 3** :

Garrus, Kasumi and James play poker, developing Garrus' and Kasumi's relationship further. Tali joins them, stating she is worried about Liara, who has isolated herself from the crew: she is taking Thessia's loss pretty hard. She and Garrus argue over who should talk to her when Shepard appears, stating he will. As he heads for her cabin however, he hears from Samantha that Liara has "confronted" Javik. Racing down to engineering, he finds Liara in the middle of shouting at Javik, and he calms her down, Javik surprisingly showing sympathy. He talks with Liara later, offering words of condolence and she thanks him. Returning to the Lounge, he informs them Liara will be alright, and they all sigh happily. - Down in the shuttle bay, James ponders over Keeling's death. He accidentally lashes out at Cortez, but apologizes afterwards. Cortez offers some advice on grief, stating how he too needs to say goodbye to his husband, Robert. The two of them promise to visit the memorial wall when they can, to finally let go and move on. James says he will attend, and that he will avenge her death.

_**A/N:** _

_**And there's both the Thessia and Horizon plots. Thessia was originally a two-parter, but I realized just how much of Part 2 could have been merged with Part 1, and just chose to make it one part. Keeling's death is a cornerstone in James' development as a character, and this sacrifice and its effect on him would have been expanded upon later in Ultimatum. And yes, I know Operation Keyhold's intent was pretty obvious given we've played the game, but its not like Shepard and his crew, in-universe, are going to know this. So...its treated as a reveal. Fight me.** _

_**It may seem like we're close to the end now, but guess what...nope! Next up is the Citadel DLC, or as I call it, the Clone Crisis arc. You're probably all interested to know how I would have tackled this part of the story. It'll probably be the longest of the outlines too, for reasons you'll see when its released.** _


	82. Clone Crisis arc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers what I had planned for the Citadel DLC, including: Shepard's clone's mixed feelings for Tali, the battle on the Normandy, the Citadel party, etc.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - CLONE CRISIS ARC**

The following chapter outline details how the Citadel DLC would have been handled.

 **Chapter 77: That's Very Generous** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter would have opened up from Shepard's POV. Upon returning to the Citadel, Shepard asks if Miranda can join his crew; Miranda agrees, saying that Oriana wants to help in the refugee camps, freeing up Miranda to join him. He nods but before he can say anything else, Hackett contacts him and informs him that the  _Normandy_ has been grounded. Outraged by the unexpected action (and understandably fearing a repeat of the Council's actions three years prior), Shepard is about to deman an explanation when Hackett states that he is putting every single member of the  _Normandy_ on shore leave, including Shepard. Despite his objections, Hackett is insistent, and tells Shepard that he has already booked Anderson's apartment for both Shepard and Tali. Shepard, remarking he has no choice, says goodbye to Miranda as he leaves to pick up Tali and check out the apartment.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Tali's POV. Later, Shepard and Tali turn up at the apartment, with Tali marvelling at all the space. The two of them explore for a bit until Shepard gets a message. Looking at it, he sees it is from Joker, who has invited him to a sushi bar. Shepard says he is just going off to have lunch with Joker in the Silversun Strip, and he will return later; he kisses Tali on the hood as he leaves.

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Arriving at the sushi place, he arrives to find a queue, but the waiter waves him through and takes him to Joker's table. The two of them talk about their new shore leave, ending with Joker asking why Shepard invited him here. Shepard states he got an invitation from Joker, but the pilot retorts by saying he never sent any invitation. Someone named Brooks turns up, who begins to hurriedly warn them that someone wishes Shepard dead and is currently hacking his accounts and stealing personal information. Joker remarks that she'll have to be more specific as to "enemies wanting Shepard dead", but Brooks elaborates that isn't Cerberus or the Reapers. At that moment, a squad of mercenaries suddenly appear, holding the restuarant hostage. Shepard flips a table and orders Joker to leave and find help. Using him as bait, Shepard lures one of the mercenaries over and disarms him, taking his pistol and steadily taking out the mercenaries while following Brooks out of the restaurant. Just as they reach the entrance, another mercenary appears and shoots Brooks in the leg, before emptying more shots into the floor; which is a fish tank. The tank shatters, and Shepard enters freefall as he plummets into the Wards below.

 **Chapter 78: Threat Assessment** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard lands in the Wards below, and begins to traverse the area with Brooks' help. Coming across a locked down door, Shepard uses his spectre access to unlock it and continue. More mercenaries arrive in an attempt to kill Shepard, but he manages to kill them all. Eventually, Tali contacts him, telling him that Joker informed her of what was happening. Brooks tells her to be quiet, but Tali bites back, confused at who she was. She states she is coming to help, and Shepard gives her his coordinates. Garrus follows suit a moment later, and before they know it, the entire squad is on their way. Continuing to fight through the mercenaries, he reaches a car dealer shop, where Tali is finishing off a squad of the mercs. She asks if he is okay, beginning to fuss, before he finally gets her to back off. She tells him she didn't have enough time to grab his armor, but did grab his rifle, giving it to him. Moving into the car dealership, they find a volus cowering, not letting them outside by opening the doors. Shepard begins to threaten the volus, when Tali uses a more polite approach, which convinces the volus to open the doors. The volus quietly asks them to leave, and Tali smugly swaggers past Shepard and towards the door. The two of them arrive outside, where a shuttle with C-Sec colors arrive. They move to board it, when the hatch opens, and another squad of mercs are waiting, firing upon them. They duck into cover just as Wrex arrives, leaping from an above balcony onto the shuttle. His weight drags the shuttle into the ground, and he jumps off, and then charges into the shuttle, killing everyone inside. More mercenaries arrive and, together, the three of them fight them off until Joker arrives in another shuttle, and picks them up. Shepard orders the squad to redirect to his apartment.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Arriving back at his apartment, Shepard, Tali and Wrex question Brooks on just who is trying to kill them. Brooks hurriedly explains that she's working with the SIA, and that she was put in charge of logistics and communications on the Citadel. She then goes on to state that she detected an intrusion in the system, and that someone had hurriedly copied Shepard's credentials and information. The intent was unknown, but Brooks had immediately gone to warn Shepard upon realizing that C-Sec had also been hacked, and that Shepard had been tracked the moment he landed on the Citadel. She explains that she does not know who is trying to kill him, as the person responsible covered their tracks well. As the rest of the squad arrives, with Moses comically struggling to get through the doorway, Shepard elects to contact Bailey. Brooks warns against doing that, as the person responsible has already hacked C-Sec and could likely track him. With no leads, Liara suggests with starting with the pistol Shepard ecovered from the mercenary; it is a military-grade weapon, but heavily modified. Next, Liara decides to track down the weapon's point of origin. Shepard hands her the weapon, and Liara takes EDI and Brooks with her to help with investigating their lead. Brooks is estactic to be working with a member of the  _Normandy_ crew, and excitedly runs to join them. Shepard spends time with Joker, Garrus, Kasumi, Tali and Wrex, the first four of which complain about Shepard destroying the sushi bar, while Wrex simply shrugs and thanks Shepard for interrupting an otherwise boring Council meeting. When asked, the krogan simply replies that he was meeting with the Council to discuss a krogan embassy when he heard the reports and rushed to help. The entire group is grateful for Wrex's return, and Garrus remarks, "For once, it really  _is_ like old times."

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Liara, EDI and Brooks summon the group, informing them that they have a lead. Liara explains that she had what agents she had on the Citadel run a sweep on any information they could on the gun, which led them to a human casino owner named Elijah Khan; she clarifies that he's been a suspect of C-Sec for quite a few weapons for his illegal weapon smuggling, although C-Sec was never able to successfully bust him. She then goes onto show them a recording of a call her agents intercepted that happened immediately after the attempt on Shepard's life. It shows Elijah Khan declaring to a mysterious figure with a deep, electronic voice modifier that he will be ceasing all contact with the mysterious figure due to him being unaware of what he had planned to do. He then cuts off the mysterious figure, threatening to release his identity if he tries to kill him. Shepard suggests allying with Khan, but Liara suggests that Khan would panic the moment he saw him; she explains that his casino has a panic room. Garrus pipes up, saying that EDI could hack it. Shepard ventually comes to an agreement that to get to Khan, they have to play stealthy; no firefights. Kasumi, being an expert on such things, suggests blending in with the crowd; Miranda seconds this suggestion. Glyph speaks up, stating that the casino will be hosting a charity event to assist war refugees within a week. She orders Glyph to bring up a layout of the building. Liara suggests using the ventilation shaft to cross the casino and hack the panic room directly, and suggests EDI do it. EDI counters that she has unregistered hardware that would be easily detected by the alarms in the shaft, and that her existence as an AI mech would arouse suspicion. Tali concedes, saying that her suit would also have tech in her suit that would be picked up by the sensors in the shaft, and that quarians of all people would be the most likely to be "suspected." Brooks obliviously signs up for the task, and despite initial objections, eventually agrees to help. Shepard reassures her by saying that almost the entire squad will be present in the casino, blending in by one way or another. James complains about the lack of action, as to which both Wrex and Javik comply with agreement. Tali turns to Moses, telling the geth that he will have to stay behind; the geth acknowledges. Shepard declares that he wants  **Garrus and Wrex** up in the bar on the top floor; Garrus is to blend in with the crowd and attempt to flirt just to keep up his role, while Wrex pretends to get "drunk" at the bar opposite him.  **James and Tali** are to pretend to be a couple making bets at the varren races, as to which James grumbles. Shepard glares at  **Kasumi**  and insists she does not steal anything, and that she will run recon and warn them if any guards get suspicious.  **Liara**  will go around asking people to sign a petition, pretending to be a professor of archaelogy, which he remarks shouldn't be difficult for her.  **Cortez** will be a "rookie" bartender.  **Samara, Javik and EDI** will wait in a skycar outside, ready to move if things go wrong. As for  **Shepard and Miranda** ,they will host themselves as a rich married couple, looking to make a difference for the refugees. Tali is quick to object to this, but Shepard promises her that if any kissing is required, it will only be as a last resort. With this stated, Liara orders Glyph to order some tickets, while Tali drags Shepard away, reasoning that if she can't come with him to the casino, she can at least help him choose the clothing.

 **Chapter 79: Casino Royale** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Garrus' POV. Garrus arrives at the casino, taking a seat at the bar as he awkwardly adjusts his suit. Getting into his role, he angrily glares as a krogan (Wrex) stomps in, angry and flustered, before landing at the bar. The krogan slams his fist on the table; the agreed signal to establish he was in position. Garrus acknowledged this, tapping his wrist to signify to Kasumi (who he knew was in cloak behind him) that he too was in position. With that, he quickly orders a drink.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from James' POV. James awkwardly escorts Tali to the varren races, where the two of them exchange awkward, forced flirts to make themselves look like a couple; a few minutes later, and Tali has won most of the races, and James angrily defends her when one of the salarians accuse her of cheating. Tali quietly compliments him on a job well done, and he replies that he picked up a few things from Keeling, albeit remembering this sadly. He asks if Tali did legitimately cheat, and the quarian is silent for a few moments. They both laugh.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard and Miranda arrive, arm in arm, with Miranda wearing a long, slender red dress. The two of them are engaging in conversation with a school teacher when Liara appears, already taking her role as a professor. After a lecture, she hands out datapads to the teacher and the couple, and then leaves without another word. Shepard and Miranda look at their datapad, and find that it has an essay on it regarding the Therum ruins: 'Therum' is Liara's code word to let them know everyone is in position. Placing their datapad on the counter, the two of them sit and wave over the bartender, Cortez. He orders a palvanese blood wine; his own signal to tell Cortez to tell Brooks that everyone is in position and ready, and that she can move in on the target. They then wait, Shepard and Miranda engaging in awkward, forced banter. Shepard tenses up when he sees a security guard practically dragging Tali over to a corner for a pat down search, only for James to step in, calming the situation.

 **Chapter 80: Just Attending A Party** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Garrus' POV. Upstairs, Garrus takes another drink when he sees Brooks arrive at the top of the stairs. With a cough, he stands up and moves towards Brooks, immediately assuming the role of an abusive drunk. He pretends to harass Brooks sexually, while Brooks pretends to rebuke his fake advances. Eventually, she calls for the guard near the grate, who moves and deals with Garrus, allowing Brooks to sneak past, open the vent and sneak inside, closing it behind her. Seeing this, Garrus gives up and lets the guard escort him back to the bar, where he sits down again. Turning, he is startled to see Kasumi sitting beside him, sipping at a drink of her own; he is double surprised to see her wearing a dress instead of her usual attire, with no hood. She grins at him, and she asks him to flirt with her. He tells her that she's supposed to be performing recon, but she states she's got her cloak on her and she won't be long. She then proceeds to ask him to dance with her, to which he is reluctant, but eventually convinced. The two of them dance, where Garrus demonstrates surprisingly good dancing skills (basically think the FemShep/Garrus romance exclusive dance scene in the DLC, and replace FemShep with Kasumi). Afterwards, he briefly pecks her on the lips, to which she smiles; Wrex sarcastically claps from the opposite bar, before slamming his fist down once more, demanding more ryncol.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. At the bar where Shepard and Miranda are, an asari tries to woo and flirt with him. To cement their role and truly make them look like a married couple, Miranda grabs Shepard and kisses him passionately; Shepard is more than a little ashamed to admit that he likes it, but isn't disappointed when she pulls away. This makes the asari leave, and Miranda apologizes to Shepard, stating there was no other way; Shepard commends her quick thinking, and Cortez informs them that Brooks has run into trouble; there is a guard below her, and any sudden movements will alert him. Coming up with an idea, Shepard tells Miranda to pass a message onto Tali and James.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from James' POV. Cortez approaches James, telling him quietly to have Tali distract the guard directly ahead of them. James nods, and passes the message to the quarian, who nods. Immediately coming up with an idea, Tali says she's about to do something "incredibly ironic." She then proceeds to move up and blatantly steal one of the bettor's wallets, running off with it. The man notices and orders the guard to stop her, who Tali stealthily runs past. The guard immediately chases after her, calling for reinforcements. James grins, and moves over to the bar to inform Shepard.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Tali, hiding, asks for Kasumi to meet her at the stairs with her cloak. Three more guards appear, notice Tali, and the chase continues. Kasumi meets her at the top, and hands the quarian her cloak, telling her to look after it before giving her a peck on the hood. Tali compliments Kasumi on the dress, before activating the cloak and disappearing. The guards arrive, asking Kasumi where Tali is, to which the thief simply replies that she has no idea what they're talking about. After the guards run back down the stairs, Kasumi turns to Garrus to see a turian female trying to flirt with him. Rolling her eyes, she returns to the turian.

 **Chapter 81: Twists and Turns** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Samara's POV. Samara, EDI and Javik wait in the skycar. Javik eventually gets into an argument with EDI over the trustworthiness of machine life. Javik tells her to shut up, calling her nothing but an emotionless machine. The two of them enter an argument that Samara abruptly ends, telling them to keep silent and watching out for hostiles. Javik capitulates to EDI's point, but makes a comment about the smell. Samara wrinkles her nose, saying she can't smell anything. Javik sniffs for a moment more, before saying 'aaaahh' and chuckling, stating he can smell the asari's perfume. Samara asks why that is important, and Javik quite casually reveals that protheans liked it for the extra tangy aroma it gave to cooked asari meat. Samara, unperturbed but slightly disgusted, simply returns to her meditations.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from James' POV. Brooks announces to Cortez through a comm piece that she is in position and hacking the door, but that a few guards are heading in her direction. James offers to handle it, and leaves. James waves the guards over, pretending to be drunk. He starts a punch out with the guards, with seven more guards arriving and eventually taking James down. He looks up, smiling as he watches Brooks enter the room, having successfully hacked the interface while he is arrested.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Cortez is contacted by Brooks, who tells Shepard they have a problem. Shepard, watching as James is escorted out of the building by security, takes Miranda with him and pretends to head for the toilet. Once out of sight, they immediately head for Khan's panic room. Inside, they find out that Elijah Khan was killed before Brooks could get inside, and that she would guess that he's been dead only a few minutes, meaning someone beat them to it; there is a bullet hole through his head. Brooks finds a deletion order on the terminal, but before she can mentally beat herself up Shepard finds a slip up; a ghost trace on the comm link to the mysterious figure was left behind, allowing Shepard to call the mysterious figure. The figure does not reveal their identity, but promises to kill Shepard, no matter what it takes, before cutting the connection. Shepard orders them to remove the drives, as well as contact the rest of the squad and tell them to return to his apartment, while he ponders who the mysterious figure could be, convinced it can't be the Illusive Man.

 **Chapter 82: You Got Me There** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Back at the apartment, Liara, EDI and Brooks once again begin to analyze the data drives while the rest of the squad lingers around the apartment. At that moment, a knock is heard on the door, and the squad draws their weapons. They lower them however when they look through the surveillance camera to see Grunt, Jack and Zaeed waiting outside, asking to come in. Shepard asks what they are doing here, when Grunt, Jack and Zaeed tell him that Hackett asked them to be here due to their original affiliation with the  _Normandy_ crew, saying they too were given shore leave. They ask what is going on, and after being given the rundown, agree to help. Accepting this, the crew talk when Liara summons them, saying they found something in the drives. Here, Brooks reveals that they cracked a series of files on the drives that listed a series of weapons and armor purchases; she also states that one mech was purchased, the data stamp of which corresponds with the date one of the left over Cerberus Atlas mechs from the Citadel Siege disappeared from the C-Sec inventory, suggesting that these mercs operate more like ex-military than they do actual mercenaries. Liara reveals that the mercenaries call themselves the CAT6, which is a PMC (private military corporation). She reveals that they call themselves CAT6 because all its members are Alliance Category 6; marines and soldiers who were dishonorably discharged for a number of reasons, ranging from misconduct, insubordination, drug abuse, alcoholism, etc; this explains their almost military prowess. Glyph interrupts, stating that Shepard's Spectre access was just used at the Citadel Archives. Just as Shepard orders everyone to grab their gear (including Grunt, Jack and Zaeed), he turns to see a volus pizzaman arrive. James reveals that he was hungry, and ordered some pizza to eat while they waited; double pepperoni. Shepard just glares at James, before agreeing to pay for it, taking a slice for himself before leaving.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. A flight of skycars fly toward the Archives. Inside, the human squad members eat the pizza James bought, with Shepard praising the marine's choice. Tali comments that the pizza doesn't look particularly appetizing, and Javik concurs that "the quarian and I can finally agree on something." They reach for seconds, but find that the entire box is gone. Looking up, they watch as Grunt goes through the final stages of munching on the box, before swallowing, commenting that it tastes like varren ass. Cortez jokingly comments that it had something to do with eating the box, to which Grunt shrugs. The skycars arrive at the Archives, and the squad deploys, with Shepard splitting them into three teams; Team Mako, Team Hammerhead and Team Scorpion: Team Scorpion is Shepard, Tali, Zaeed and Grunt. Team Mako is Wrex, James, Garrus, Jack and Moses. Team Hammerhead is EDI, Kasumi, Samara, Miranda, Liara, Brooks and Javik. Once split into these teams, Kasumi asks how they plan to get inside the Archives. James proposes using a bomb, and blows open a rear access hatch. Wrex charges in first, followed by everyone else. Entering a room, Team Scorpion engages the CAT6 on the ground floor, while Team Hammerhead attacks from the left balcony and Team Mako from the right. All of them banter as they tear the CAT6 mercs apart. Eventually, Brooks is captured in the commotion, and held at gunpoint by the mysterious figure (wearing a full-body helmet) wearing heavy body armor and a pistol that he holds to the side of Brooks' face; he orders them to drop their weapons just as CAT6 mercs swarm from all around them. Not wanting Brooks to be hurt, Shepard orders everyone to drop their weapons on the ground, and hold their hands up; everyone complies. Seeing this, the mysterious figure tosses Brooks aside and leaps from the balcony onto the ground, before moving towards Shepard and stopping infront of him. Shepard snarkily demands he reveal his face and stop hiding; the figure chuckles, removing his helmet and pinning it under one arm as he says, "I'm Captain Shepard, I never hide." The whole squad looks on in shock as they find that the mysterious figure is a perfect replica of their captain. The figure reveals that he was one of five other clones that were part of a secret project called Project Masked Shadow: a companion project to Lazarus. He tells them that it was a project the Illusive Man ordered done without Miranda's awareness; the five clones were to be used to produce replacement organs if any of the ones used for Shepard's resurrection failed to work and needed substitutes; all the clones were used for was this purpose. However, only two of these clones were fully alive and healthy humans like Shepard, with the same memories and everything, but lacked skin and were held in incubator tanks just like the one they found Grunt in, while the other three clones were bodies used for the sole purpose of growing organs: a lesson Cerberus had learned from the experiments of the late Dr. Saleon. Eventually, when Shepard was successfully brought back to life thanks to the Lazarus Project, the Illusive Man ordered the clones terminated. All of the clones but four were terminated, with one of the Cerberus agents, one of the Illusive Man's best, taking pity on the clone and stealing him away. They took him to the Citadel where she gave him a fake name and had skin grafts made for him, allowing him to look exactly like Shepard; after that, he resolved to take revenge against his successful counterpart, believing he is the real Shepard. The real Shepard asks why the clone would choose to fight for Cerberus, but the clone simply laughs, saying he doesn't; he wants Shepard dead so that he can take up his legacy in his place; that's why he wanted to kill him and was stealing all his information and records. The squad insult the clone, but he does not care, going to each of them and insulting them, one by one. He lands on Tali, but finds himself unable to insult her, despite his best attempts. He reaches up to stroke her cheek, but she flinches away, and he looks momentarily hurt. Shaking this away, he tells them that he now has access to the  _Normandy_ 's comm link, and has already ordered Samantha to prepare the ship for departure. He also reveals that he faked the message Hackett sent to Grunt, Jack and Zaeed, saying he intentionally wanted the entire  _Normandy_ squad to be present so he could deal with them all at once. Shepard asks why he wants to destroy his own squad, to which the clone replies, "The Cult of Shepard ends today. I'm going to kill all of you, and end you all in one fell swoop." Leaving, he orders his men to kill the squad.

 **Chapter 83: Clone Crisis** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Jack and Shepard combine their biotic powers to stun the mercs around them, allowing his squad to rearm themselves and fight back. After killing the mercs, they proceed as normal, and pursue Shepard's clone, making jokes along the way as they kill the mercs, Brooks saying she's fine and helping in the chase. Tali is separated from the group at some point, but says she's okay and will catch up. Closing in on the clone, Shepard loses contact with Team Mako, followed shortly by Team Hammerhead. He contacts Tali, but has lost contact with her too. Eventually, his own team is trapped in an Archive pod, and the clone confronts him. It is here that Brooks reveals she's been working with the clone all along, and that Maya Brooks isn't even her real name; she reintroduces herself by her favourite alias, Rasa. She reaches up and kisses the clone, revealing she is his lover, although he doesn't look very comfortable about it. While the clone lectures Shepard about his failure, Tali appears, revealing she cut contact deliberately to better sneak up on the clone. Just as she is about to kill the clone however, he spins around, wrenching the shotgun from her hands. Tali reaches for her boot knife and charges him, but Rasa raises her pistol, ordering her to drop it. Tali kicks Rasa, but before she can defeat her, the clone raises his pistol at her, telling her to drop the knife. Tali hesitates, but finally drops the knife. Rasa asks if she should kill Tali, but the clone hesitates, frowning. Suddenly, he orders Rasa to take Tali alive, turning to Shepard and saying, "Your wife is coming with me. I quite like her; besides, maybe I could be the husband she's always wanted, right? She is technically my wife too, after all." With that, he has Rasa lock their tube away, and takes Tali away. Shepard orders Glyph to get them out, and the drone works with Moses and EDI to unlock the tube, growling that "nobody takes my ship or my wife away from me - not even me. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait to kill myself."

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Later, Joker and Cortez arrive in a skycar, with Joker panicking as he realizes that Shepard's POV clone is about to hijack the  _Normandy_. Shepard tells him that he has Tali, and they need to hurry. Joker asks why he simply can't ask Hackett to blockade the port, when Garrus points out that the clone is literally Shepard; he could very easily contact Hackett and tell him to break off. With this in mind, Shepard and the entire squad board their skycars and race for the  _Normandy_.

 **Chapter 84: I'm Everything He Is** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Tali's POV. Back on the  _Normandy_ , the clone tells Samantha she's being dishonorably discharged, who (still believing he is the real Shepard) storms out of the ship in anger. Rasa appears, still holding Tali in omni-cuffs as she asks what to do with her. The clone orders her taken to his quarters, and tells his pilot, Crooks, to begin take-off procedures: he does so happily, revealing himself to be the pilot originally slated to fly the SR-1, but who was replaced by Joker after the latter's hijacking incident. He then heads to his cabin to strip his armor. Inside the cabin, Rasa places Tali on the bed and leaves, although confused why. The clone tries to banter with Tali, complimenting that Shepard has taste; Tali does not answer. He asks her multiple questions as he strips his armor, but she still doesn't answer. The clone crouches before her, asking why she is being silent when she finally answers, telling him that Shepard will come for her, and that he will pay, and that's if she doesn't escape first. The clone tells her that he is just as good as the other Shepard, as he is quite literally the same; same memories, same body. He tries to talk with her, but she refuses him, hurting him more and more. He expresses his confusion at her inability to understand, but finally gives up. In a final biting remark as the clone goes to take a shower, Tali tells him he's a mere copy of the real thing. Hurt, he enters the shower, leaving Tali alone to plan her escape.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from the clone's POV. As he showers, he ponders Tali's words, and whether she is right. After a long mental argument, he concurs that Tali is deluded, and that the 'real' Shepard must be destroyed so he can assume his rightful place. He tries to shake his feelings for Tali, but can't, concluding it must be a remnant of his feelings and memories from prior to the SR-1's destruction influencing him. He hears the door open and is about to chastize Rasa for violating his privacy when he is suddenly attacked by Tali, who has escaped her cuffs and is trying to kill him. Shocked by her brazen behaviour, he tries to reason with her, only for her to break his nose. After a long struggle, he finally overpowers her with his cybernetics, and announces he is sick of her attitude, and that if she won't join him, then she'll be his prisoner. He puts her omni-cuffs back on, and orders Rasa to come up to his cabin to take Tali to the brig until she has, quote on quote, 'wisened up.'

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Tali's POV. Later, Rasa appears, telling Tali that the clone has ordered her to be taken to the ship's brig (a room located in the shuttle bay). Rasa tries to comfort the dressed clone, but he tells her to stop pestering him, making his feelings clear. Tali silently allows herself to be taken to Deck 4, but on the elevator down, smugly mocks and taunts Rasa with her observations that the clone loves a quarian he's technically never met more than the woman who saved his life. Rasa tells her to be quiet, but after Tali hits a nerve, stops the elevator on Deck 4 and takes her out, hoping to kill her. She slams Tali against the observation windows, hand wrapped around her throat. Tali then surprises her with a headbutt, cracking her mask but dazing Rasa enough for Tali to wiggle free, and subsequently, escape her omni-cuffs a second time. The two of them engage in a hand-to-hand battle which results in Tali kicking her through a window onto Deck 5, with Tali leaping down after her.

 **Chapter 85: The Great Chase** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard and the squad's skycars arrive at the  _Normandy_ shortly before Tali's fight with Brooks. They manage to run for the ship, although Shepard, Jack, Wrex and Garrus are the only ones to reach the ship before it begins to take off. On the way there, they notice EDI's body fall to the ground, taken offline; Moses explains over the comm that the clone must have taken EDI offline. Samantha is waiting, and is surprised to see Shepard. He explains that his clone has assumed control of the ship, and needs way inside that won't alert him. They try to access the ventilation shaft from the ship's airlock, but need to trigger it with mass effect fields; Samantha brings forth her toothbrush. Using it to open the hatch, the squad crawls inside as the  _Normandy_ takes off, leaving the others behind as the ship leaves the Citadel.

 **Section 2** :

Joker and Cortez turn up in a skycar, using it to fly infront of the  _Normandy_ , and therefore prevent the ship from entering FTL. The two argue back and forth over who should pilot, with Joker sullenly giving in and allowing Cortez to fly, although giving him some advice on how to limit the  _Normandy_ 's departure vector.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard and his squad pounce on CAT6 soldiers patrolling the CIC, killing them all. The crew express confusion towards Shepard, who tells them to stay put: learning of his clone, they tell him to kick his ass, calling him "a total asshole". Moving towards the cockpit by himself, he orders Crooks to turn the ship around; Crooks refuses, telling Shepard that if he shoots the pilot, the  _Normandy_ will spiral out of control and crash into the Citadel, destroying the ship and killing hundreds of innocent people. Gritting his teeth, he tells the pilot he'll be back and turns around to head for the CIC. He arrives just in time for a squad of CAT6 mercs to appear in the elevator, and his squad gun them down as they are in the elevator. They enter the elevator and immediately descend to the Shuttle Bay, where the clone presumably has moved to. They arrive in the shuttle bay, stepping out as they gun down two of the mercs, who have their backs turned. Turning to see what the fuss was about, Shepard is surprised and glad to see Tali fighting Rasa, the two of them fighting in hand-to-hand combat. Shepard, just as his squad is about to intervene and help Tali, stops as he watches his clone appear from behind a crate, wearing a pair of Defender armor he had worn last time, with a large grin on his face. With a growl, he tells his squad to head back to the elevator and to clear the ship of the mercs; the clone was his to fight alone. He then moves forward and engages the clone in combat. Tali and Shepard, Rasa and the clone take turns in fighting each other, until eventually the battle brings them to the edge of the shuttle bay. The clone angrily orders Crooks to enter FTL, but the pilot explains that he can't as there is a skycar in the way. The clone orders the shuttle deployed to deal with it, and Shepard only manages to duck in time as the CAT6 troops deploy the shuttle to deal with the skycar. The opening of the shuttle bay door causes Shepard and the clone to slide down the ramp, both hanging on for dear life. Tali notices this, and decides to end her fight with Rasa. After a few more moments, she activates an omni-blade and rams it into Rasa's sternum before kicking her away. Rasa, too injured to chase her, is unable to stop Tali as the quarian slides down the ramp to help Shepard up. The clone looks on in sadness, with Tali hesitating at the clone. The clone asks why Shepard and not him, to which she says, "You can't copy everything." The clone pleads to Rasa to help him, but she simply turns and tries to escape. She runs into Wrex, who holds her down despite her resistance. Shepard offers to let the clone join his squad, but the clone simply says, "What's the point?" before letting go of the ramp, plummeting to his death. Afterwards, Wrex holds down Rasa as Shepard decides what to do with her. Rasa says that he'll miss her, before zapping Wrex. The force is enough to make him let go, and she runs for the elevator only to be shot through the head, killing her instantly. Shepard then chuckles, shaking his head, "No, I won't."

 **Chapter 86: So Much For Shore Leave** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. The  _Normandy_ returns to dock, with Joker explaining that he brought in Moses to bring EDI back online using the skycar. Moses then returned to the cockpit and grabbed Crooks, opened the airlock and threw him out while the ship was still in flight, EDI seizing control afterwards. The Citadel Defense Fleet then captured the stolen shuttle, and will return it to the  _Normandy_ soon and the remaining CAT6 personnel arrested. Once in dock and with Alliance marines entering the ship, Shepard requested that someone remove Rasa's body before it began to stink. His squad then sighs collectively, with Tali remarking at how "even a shore leave can lead to violence and really crazy things. Can we ever just...rest?" And with that, Liara pipes up, proposing they have a party at Shepard's apartment. Shepard is a bit cautious at first, but decides the squad could use the celebratory madness of a party; Liara and Miranda decide to handle the party organization, while everybody else heads off to actually enjoy their shore leave: Shepard and Tali head back to their apartment.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Back at their apartment, Tali and Shepard settle down and watch  _Fleet and Flotilla_ on their big screen. Tali then explains that this is the sing-along edition, and begins to sing to him. He tries not to laugh, and when Tali asks, he thinks her singing is beautiful, if only a bit cute. He then removes her mask and they kiss, which leads to them having sex.

 **Section 3** :

Section opens from Tali's POV. The next morning, the two of them are eating breakfast when they hear a knock on the door. Shepard answers it, with James and Cortez walking in immediately and holding a few beers and a pizza. Shepard asks what this is all about, when James and Cortez inform him that the grand finale of the 2186 Biotiball game is on. Tali asks what that is, making James and Cortez realize that Tali is still there. Tali says that is okay, and they explain that Biotiball is basically football, but using biotics, and that it was a big hit among the asari. James personally supports the Usaru Maestros, an asari biotiball team, while Cortez adamantly defends his stance on supporting the Seattle Sorcerers, a human biotiball team. They ask who Shepard supports, who says he doesn't really watch sport that much. Surprised, they ask Tali if she watches sport, and she shakes her head. With a sigh, James and Cortez force Shepard and Tali to watch the biotiball game. Shepard and Tali give each other glances as they watch James and Cortez really get into the game. A few hours later, and James complains as the Maestros are defeated, with the Sorcerers winning. Afterwards, the two of them leave, leaving Tali and Shepard alone once more.

 **Chapter 87: Hanging Out Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard tells Tali he'll be back, as Grunt has apparently run into trouble in the Silversun Strip. Getting there, he finds out the havoc Grunt has wrought trouble across the Citadel, and proceeds to apologize to the C-Sec officer, offering to pay the fines. Grunt thanks him, but Shepard tells him to stay out of any further trouble, and then leaves.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Back at the apartment, Jack turns up with a varren named Eezo; a varren she bought from an asari that was exposed to element zero and actually developed biotic powers. Tali asks how a varren with biotic powers would work, to which Jack says "don't ask." She says varren exposed to eezo have a short temper, but thanks to Jack, he has become a "big old softy", to the point where Eezo even plays catch with Tali. Jack asks Tali if she has ever gotten a tattoo, to which Tali says she has not; Jack insists she get one, but Tali persists that she does not want one, and Jack drops the subject.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Kasumi's POV. Elsewhere, Kasumi corners Miranda in the casino, asking what the woman is trying to do; Miranda explains she is trying to be normal for a change, to which Kasumi tells her she's "doing it wrong." One man tries to flirt with Miranda but both Kasumi and Miranda, simultaneously, telling him to piss off, and he leaves, disgruntled. They two share a laugh.

 **Section 4** :

This section is from Garrus' POV. Garrus and Zaeed fight in the Armax Arsenal Arena simulation against Cerberus, and the two of them compare kills. Garrus jokes that Zaeed is getting too old, and the two of them go at it again.

 **Chapter 87: Hanging Out Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Samantha's POV. Samantha, who is a professional player of Kepesh-Yakshi (Blade of the Night Winds), an asari naval strategy game. She manages to defeat three other players before confronting an asari player named Polgara T'Suzsa, who reveals herself to be another professional player of the game who has defeated Samantha in the past. Polgara constantly taunts Samantha, but is eventually defeated when Samantha seizes her homeworld, winning the game and taking the prize.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard arrives back at his apartment to see Jack and Tali sitting at a bench, watching the news while Eezo kneels beside them. Kelly and Samantha are also present, cooking dinner. Samantha notices Shepard, and welcomes him, saying she's cooking up a traditional "British brunch," before pointing at the trophy she won at the Kepesh-Yakshi tournament. Shepard sarcastically taunts the comms specialist, who simply grins and continues cooking. A shout is heard, and Shepard looks down the hall to see James using his punching bag. Rolling his eyes, he enters the kitchen again, mumbling, "Didn't realize I had invited everyone." Taking a beer from the fridge, he sits back down next to Tali when Eezo begins to growl. Jack tells Eezo to calm down, and explains that Eezo has taken a liking to Tali and is protective of her. Shepard just grins back down at the varren, who glares back at him. Kelly begins to talk animatedly to Shepard and Tali about their relationship, saying that she has met a turian and wants to know how their relationship works first. Jack just bluntly tells Kelly to "seduce and fuck him," when Kelly states she's in a relationship with Samantha, not the turian: she was asking on behalf of the turian, who was interested in a quarian friend of his. Jack shrugs, saying "then...well...tell him that then, but in reverse." Kelly sighs, turning back to Samantha, who simply gives a shrug at a wink, causing Kelly to giggle.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Samara's POV. Liara plays the piano in the apartment, while Samara silently listens, complimenting Liara's piano skills. Liara says she learned them from Nishara, an asari bodyguard who accompanied her on Therum before the geth turned up and killed her. Samara admits she used to have an interest in becoming a musician, but the mercenary life captured her instead. Liara asks about her past, and Samara begins to explain.

 **Chapter 87: Hanging Out Part 3** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard is called by Javik and told to meet down in the Bronzedust Studios in the Silversun Strip. Moving down there, Shepard finds Javik present on the set of the next Blasto movie: Blasto 7: Blasto Goes to War. Here, the salarian director of the film, Keks Vard, is shocked to have the real Marcus Shepard in his studio, and asks him to play the role of Shepard in the film; when Shepard reluctantly agrees, the salarian dismisses the original actor, who glares at Shepard. Javik joins the film as a "wise prothean elder," and filming begins. The film depicts the Galactic Council as being made up of a vorcha, volus and salarian councilors. The volus asks what Javik suggest they do, and Javik replies that he can tell them how to best serve salarian kidneys. At the mention of prothean, Blasto appears, but insists he will not share "top billing" with Shepard or Javik; the director urges him to "think of the children", and convinces Blasto to help. Sovereign's half-brother Sluggard then attacks, seeking revenge for his brother's death; Shepard begins to wonder at how ridiculous the concept is. Blasto then states that he will stop Sluggard, with the Council thanking Blasto for informing them about the Reaper threat. Shepard, fed up, finally intervenes, saying that it wasn't Blasto, but him. Blasto and Shepard begin to argue and bicker over who's better, when the vorcha councilor reveals he is indoctrinated (in the film, not reality). Javik, fed up with the whole scenario, says he wishes he was "still locked in a refridgerator" and uses his biotics to knock out the vorcha. He asks Shepard if they can leave, he obliges, the both of them walking away as the director continues filming.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Back at the apartment, Tali and Jack compliments Samantha on her cooking, with Jack admitting that she actually fed hers to Eezo as she didn't like it at all; Samantha sarcastically remarks at how her will to live has been destroyed, which Kelly dramatically reassures her. Kelly giggles when a knock is heard on the door; Tali answers it, and finds Kolyat and Lia has come to visit them, bringing Shepard and Tali a late wedding gift. Tali, opening it, finds a steel picture frame inside, with Lia stating they could use it for an important photo. Tali thanks her, and invites both of them into the apartment.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard later arrives, rolling his eyes when he sees James still punching the bag. He is greeted by Kolyat and Lia, who he greets warmly, and Tali shows him the picture frame. He thanks them, and they all sit down as they begin to chat.

 **Chapter 88: In The Moment Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. A few hours later at night, Shepard takes Tali upstairs and says they should try the hot tub; she is hesitant, but eventually gives in, and the both of them lie in the hot tub with one another. The moment eventually escalates until eventually they end up having sex in the hot tub. - A few days later, the entire  _Normandy_ crew (including Gabby, Kenneth, Adams, Chakwas, Michel, Gardner, Kolyat, Lia and Joker) turn up at the apartment, with Grunt repeatedly hitting the doorbell. Shepard answers the door, telling Grunt to calm down. Everybody moves inside, with Liara, Kasumi and Tali already there as they had been setting up the party. When asked what they can do, Shepard simply retorts, "Go crazy! Party!", but warns Grunt not to break anything. And so the mayhem begins.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Garrus' POV. Garrus and Zaeed examine a glass panel next to the doorway, a few beers in hand as they wonder what tactical use it could have. Zaeed suggests micro-explosives, and Garrus agrees. The two of them debate back and forth over what to do, but eventually agree on micro-explosives.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from James' POV. On the balcony of the apartment, James, Liara, Shepard and Samara are present, with James stupidly insinuating that biotics are for the weak. Obviously, Liara, Shepard and Samara have issues with this, and James demonstrates this by having a push-up competition. Shepard takes his challenge, and begins to do push-ups alongside the marine. Kasumi appears out of cloak and sits on James' back with her arms crossed, grinning. James says this is cheating, so Liara sits on Shepard's back, evening the odds. Eventually, James gives out, but notices that Shepard has only just started to sweat. Shepard grins, and helps the marine up.

 **Chapter 88: In The Moment Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Tali's POV. Samantha, Gabby, Tali, Kelly and Lia are downstairs in the kitchen, talking about old times on the  _Normandy_. Tali remarks that she used to picture Shepard in the shower before they first did the deed, to which Samantha jokingly adds that now she pictures herself with Kelly in the shower, causing the yeoman to blush. Tali skulks another drink, and Gabby asks how many the quarian has already had; Tali states that she hasn't had nearly enough yet.

 **Section 2** :

This section is from Cortez's POV. Javik, Cortez, Joker, Kenneth and Kolyat are at the bar, with Javik slowly getting drunk. Cortez pours the prothean his seventh drink, remarking that Javik is far more friendly when he is drunk. The prothean then begins to list old prothean delicacies, and jokes detonating antimatter bombs on Reaper occupied worlds was the prothean equivalent of movies. Joker jokes about how morbid that is, with Kenneth deciding that whatever the prothean is drinking is something he doesn't want, and sticks to his scotch. Kolyat decides to give the drink a try, but spits it out, saying it tastes of copper.

 **Section 3** :

This section is from Miranda's POV. At the bar at the back of the apartment, Miranda and Jack talk. Kenneth, on the way back, remarks about how the two should just kiss already, when both of them threaten to kill Kenneth if he goes spreading rumors; Eezo growls. Kenneth keeps a wide berth, and Jack and Miranda share a laugh, with Jack admitting that Miranda "wasn't such a bitch after all," but later says, "But you're still a cheerleader."

 **Chapter 88: In The Moment Part 3** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Wrex's POV. Wrex and Grunt have a competition over who is better than who, and headbutt each other repeatedly. Shepard shouts down that the two of them better not break anything, to which Wrex and Grunt concede that, "Shepard is just one guy we can't beat," but remark that one is still better than the other.

 **Section 2** :

This section is from James' POV. Back on the balcony, James refuses to back down on his challenge. Deciding to get funny, Liara levitates the marine above the ground with her biotics, saying she'll release him if he takes back what he said. James eventually gives in, and the asari lets him go, all of the other biotics laughing.

 **Section 3** :

This section is from Shepard's POV. Cortez walks out into the apartment, shouting to the entire apartment, "Everybody, we need to party! How about some dancing!?" Almost everyone takes to the kitchen area to dance, with Tali, Garrus, Jack, Kasumi, Gabby, Kelly, Miranda, Lia and Liara dancing. Shepard decides only to watch, and EDI attempts to coax Joker into joining in. Joker eventually gives into EDI's pleading, and Shepard laughs as the pilot tries to dance without breaking anything. While dancing, Tali, Garrus, Liara, Samantha and Jack exchange elements of the periodic table, and Tali drunkenly coaxes Shepard into dancing. Shepard joins in, and the group collectively laughs at Shepard.

 **Section 4** :

This section is from Jack's POV. Afterwards, Tali, heavily drunk, stumbles into the bathroom, where Jack is getting a glass of water. Here, Tali drunkenly follows up on Jack's offer of a tattoo, suggesting they do it in the bedroom. Jack grins, and runs to grab her equipment. She asks what Tali wants, and the quarian simply slurs, "Make me badass."

 **Chapter 88: In The Moment Part 4** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Kolyat, Lia, Joker and EDI discuss their relationships, figuring out which one is the weirdest; in the end, they all conclude that Joker and EDI are probably the oddest couple. Javik, Zaeed, Wrex, Grunt and James discuss war tactics, even going to the extent of using the apartment as a "defensive position." Shepard once again reiterates not to wreck anything, and Wrex begrudgingly agrees. Sometime along the way, Zaeed makes a pass at Samara, who rejects him, to the mercenary's disappointment.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Kelly's POV. Kelly and Samantha spare a moment together, only to be interrupted by Kasumi, who urges Samantha to "sink her claws in" winking at Kelly, cloaking and leaving. Kelly frowns at her, and Samantha blushes.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Samantha's POV. Cortez and Samantha, with Liara, Samara, Kelly, Gabby and Ken as witnesses, discuss homosexual relationships, and how far tolerance towards them has progressed. Samantha states that the way asari are biologically, their entire race are essentially lesbians. Kelly admits she is bi-sexual, while Kenneth grins, admitting that he wishes Samantha and EDI would "get it on". Gabby slaps him on the head, flustered at his rudeness. Shepard appears and both Cortez and Samantha ask his opinion on the topic, to which he says "you know what I'm going to say, right?" before the two back off. He then continues, smiling, "But you also know I don't have an issue with it." They grin.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. A couple of hours later, Tali limps into the secondary bar, with Jack looking decidedly pleased with herself. Miranda asks what she did, to which she said "ask Shepard tomorrow." Tali, still drunk, proceeds into the room, where Garrus, Liara, Kelly, Shepard, Samantha, Cortez and Wrex currently are, where she proceeds to "imitate" the sounds the  _Normandy_ makes, making comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2. Liara and Garrus proceed to argue that while the SR-2 is great, nothing can beat the SR-1. Shepard disagrees, saying the SR-2 is superior in every way, and the SR-1 can only be associated with bad memories now. The argument eventually leads them to asking Joker, who reluctantly agrees with Shepard; the SR-2 is superior. Although he admits EDI might be a part of swaying his opinion: the SR-1 didn't have her, after all.

 **Chapter 88: In The Moment Part 5** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Kenneth's POV. Gabby scolds Ken for his comments, taking him to a back room to tell him off. One thing leads to another, and Kenneth eventually ends up kissing Gabby. Gabby, surprised by this, is initially shocked and initially shoves him off. Kenneth asks her where they stand, and Gabby's response is to passionately kiss him back. Eventually, they back up onto the bed, and proceed to have sex, Gabby kicking the door shut to ensure noone heard them, but complaining that while Ken is such an annoying jackass, he's a loveable one.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Gardner cooks up more food using the apartment's kitchen, some of the food being eggs, to James' joy. The marine almost snatches the plate, but Gardner fights him off, telling him to wait. He asks where Gabby and Ken are, but Kelly remarks that they seem to have disappeared. Tali drunkenly walks in and says they are "getting it on" before beginning to compliment James' body, mistaking him for Shepard. Shepard comes to the rescue, shaking Tali out of it and managing to get her away before anything happened. James jokes that Tali doesn't take well to alcohol, and Gardner grudgingly agrees. Shepard, remembering the steel frame Lia and Kolyat gave himself and Tali, asks everyone to summon in the lounge and arrange the room facing the fireplace. Once in place, he orders everyone to pose for a photo, which Wrex and Grunt groan at, but agree to. Everyone assembles on the couch, with Shepard inviting Lia and Kolyat to join the photo. He asks where Gabby and Ken are, but Chakwas says she couldn't find them; the duo in question rush into the room, their hair dishevelled and buttoning up their shirts, apologizing for being late. The whole group laughs, and Gabby blushes. Afterwards, they pose, with Tali landing her head on Shepard's arm and promptly falling asleep as they take a photo. After that, Shepard orders the party to continue, laying Tali down on the couch.

 **Chapter 89: The Morning After Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. The next morning, Shepard wakes up in bed, naked, with an equally naked Tali under the covers beside him. He can't remember ever making love to her, but shakes his head regardless. Tali stirs, complaining that her head felt like she'd been bashed in the head repeatedly; it is then that Shepard notices the tattoo Jack put on her back; the tattoo is of a thresher maw spitting out flame, with Tali riding on top of it in battle armor, a spear and shield in her hands. Shepard tells her about the tattoo, and Tali groans, saying she'll get rid of it when she can; Shepard asks if she can keep it, saying he likes it; Tali, surprised, agrees.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Kelly's POV. Kelly stumbles in on Gabby and Ken having sex again, gasping as she walks out, slamming the door shut. Then, noticing that everyone seems to be "getting together," she shrugs and heads towards Samantha's room.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker wakes up on a couch, with EDI standing beside him, head hung low. He groans, and kicks at Cortez, who is sleeping beside him, to get up. The pilot complains, but stands up. The two of them go on a 'quest' to get sober. It doesn't end well. Joker complains, much to EDI's lack of sympathy.

 **Chapter 89: The Morning After Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Garrus' POV. Garrus and Kasumi wake up beside each other in the poker room, looking across to see Jack sleeping ontop of the poker table, while Miranda is sitting in a chair at the bar, arms crossed and asleep. Getting up, he pokes at Miranda to wake up, who complains that she'll "never fall asleep in a chair again." He then pokes Lia and Kolyat, who are lying beside each other, resting against a wall, who wake up, although reluctantly.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Later, after everyone has woken up properly, everyone meets in the kitchen area. Kelly and Samantha turn up looking decidedly pleased with themselves, while Gabby and Ken have not turned up. Before Shepard can ask, Javik storms up, and twin screams are heard. Javik stumbles back down the stairs, with Gabby shouting out "you creep!" The prothean grumbles, rubbing his head, "I awoke the engineers for battle, captain. They used inefficient fluffy projectiles in retaliation. The female does not appear to appreciate the call for assembly." Gabby and Ken then turn up, Gabby glaring intensely at Javik while Ken looks abashed, asking "did you...uh...hear that?" Everybody nods, and Ken curses under his breath. After a laugh, Shepard tells them that their last day of shore leave has been used up, and to report back to the  _Normandy_. Everybody agrees.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Back at the dock, Shepard and Tali both say goodbye to Kolyat and Lia, telling them they will take the photo they made at the party and put it in the frame; the frame will be placed in their room, for them to look at and always remember the good times. Jack, Zaeed, Grunt and Wrex say their goodbyes, before then proceeding to leave. Moses turns up, informing Shepard that the  _Normandy_ is prepped for departure, and that they've already received a request by UGC forces for assistance with dealing with Reaper forces in the Armstrong Cluster. The squad laments on the times they've had, before entering the ship, leaving Tali and Shepard alone. Tali whispers, "Its been one hell of a ride, hasn't it?" before departing and entering the ship. Shepard nods sadly, whispering to himself, "The best", looking out at the stars in lamentation.

_**A/N:** _

_**And yes, that's probably the longest out of Holocaust's many arcs. This would have later played into events in Ultimatum later on, hence why I implemented it into the story. It also gives the character a much needed breather...and considering what happens in the next outline, the audience needs it as much as they do. You'll see what I mean next week.** _

_**Next week is the Cerberus arc outline, which will detail the events leading up to and concluding with Priority: Cerberus Headquarters. Basically, its the beginning of the end. For reasons you will note when its released, you'll both love me and hate me for it. Rick O'Shay, you should pay special attention to this one. You'll be in the 'love/hate' camp, I'm sure of it.** _

_**Until next time, Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	83. Cerberus arc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers what I had planned for the final battle with Cerberus, including: an attack on the Normandy by the Deliverance, the slaughter of the Deliverance's crew, the death of Leng, the final assault on Cronos Station, etc.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - CERBERUS ARC**

The following chapter outline details how the resolution to the Cerberus arc, mostly centering around Priority: Cerberus Headquarters, would have been handled.

 **Chapter 90: In The Pale Moonlight Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Joker's POV. Arriving in the Hong System over Casbin, Joker laughs at the minimal Reaper presence in the system; EDI points out how odd it is that UGC forces would be in the Armstrong cluster, as the UGC had declared it a "CODE SABER ONE" exclusion zone; this means that it was officially declared Reaper occupied territory. Shepard states that obviously UGC forces were stupid enough to deploy here, and proceeds to take EDI with him, telling Joker that he has the ship. Joker remarks about how the last time Shepard said that, the Collectors attacked the ship, but lets the comment slide.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Samantha's POV. Kelly and Samantha, after watching the shuttle leave with the entire squad, share a moment together, talking about their plans for after the war. Kelly explains her experiences on the Collector Base, and how her nightmares had almost kept her from rejoining the  _Normandy_ 's crew: thanks to Shepard, she was convinced to come back, and thanks to him, she survived the Cerberus attack on the Citadel. She also adds that she wouldn't have met Samantha otherwise, and the two share a kiss before Samantha returns to her work station. She smiles.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Adams' POV. Adams asks for a status update from Ken and Gabby, but is surprised to hear none of them answer. Turning, he notices them talking in hushed voices, and he finally yells, causing them to both turn to him. He orders them to give him a status, and they do. Afterwards, he turns back to his console, shakes his head, and returns to work. With Tali having left with Shepard and his squad, Adams is left in command of engineering while she is gone. He proceeds to run a diagnostic with EDI.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker asks EDI for a status report, and is surprised to note she has not answered. Frowning, and asking her to stop messing around (initially thinking its the set up for another of her jokes), he asks for a status report again, but she still does not respond. Suddenly growing worried, he goes to ask a third time, when it is Eva who responds, telling Joker that EDI is "unavailable at this time." He widens his eyes, but before he can do anything, his console turns off, followed by the lights.

 **Section 5** :

Section is from Goldstein's POV. Power all over the ship fails, including the shuttle bay. Goldstein and Hawthorne are in the shuttle bay looking after the armoury while James and Cortez are gone, and immediately try to get status reports from EDI due to the power failure. Suddenly the shuttle bay doors open, and two Cerberus shuttles land in the bay. Goldstein and Hawthorne grab weapons and try to find their way into the elevator, but a full platoon of Cerberus troopers using night vision gun them down before they can defend themselves.

 **Section 6** :

Section is from Leng's POV. From the point of view of Leng, the assassin looks down at Goldstein and Hawthorne's corpses with glee, and turns to his second-in-command, April Doenitz. He tells April to follow the plan and to secure the shuttle bay and engineering; Leng will take his phantoms and go to the CIC and Crew Deck to kill everyone else. April remarks that Leng would enjoy killing a cripple, but Leng simply tells her to shut up and do her job. He orders Eva to activate the elevator, and stands inside, his phantoms with him. He looks forward to slaughtering Shepard's crew, and caresses his sword in anticipation.

 **Chapter 90: In The Pale Moonlight Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Adams' POV. In engineering, Adams tells Gabby and Ken to get the power back on. Just as they both acknowledge this, they hear screams, followed by gunfire. Freezing, Adams reaches for his omni-tool and turns on his torch. Turning to Gabby and Ken, who have activated their own, he tells them to be quiet and directs them to a vent; he tells them to get to the AI Core and bring EDI back online; without her, they'll stand no chance of defending themselves. Gabby asks what Adams will do, to which Adams tells them he'll deal with the boarders. Closing the vent, he quickly runs into the drive core room, proceeding to tear open the control panel and get to work frantically.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker, flashlight on his omni-tool, limps through the CIC, pleading with EDI to answer him. Eva taunts him on the nature of his relationship with the AI, asking if EDI pleases him. Joker calls Eva a cancer on his ship, to which Eva says "you said the same about EDI once." He replies that "you are not EDI" before reaching Kelly and Samantha, ducked under their console. He tells Samantha that they need to get EDI back online, and that he knows a vent that can get them there; he used it before during a Collector attack. They follow him to the vent, and they proceed down it just as Leng's phantoms arrive in the CIC. Eva directs them to the vent.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from EDI's POV. EDI starts to fight back against Eva, who taunts EDI, telling the AI that this is what her predecessor must have felt like when EDI terminated her. EDI remarks that she deserved it, and Eva just laughs, telling her to "die already", and that her "emotions make you weak." EDI states that this might be so, but she isn't alone, right before Moses' geth programs appear in the system, attacking Eva. The AI continues to taunt despite the new resistance, beating Eva back. EDI demands Eva to die.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker, Samantha and Kelly arrive in the AI Core just as Gabby and Ken begin to work on EDI's core. Samantha moves to help them, while Kelly says she will go into the medical bay to warn Chakwas and Michel. Joker nods, and Kelly leaves.

 **Section 5** :

Section is from Leng's POV. Gardner hides behind the mess kitchen as Leng arrives on the Crew Deck, killing Patel and Westmoreland. Leng then proceeds into the medical bay, his night vision allowing him to immediately find Kelly, Chakwas and Michel. Chakwas shines her omni-tool torch at Leng, temporarily blinding him. He angrily dives forth, slashing, but missing. The three of them rush for the AI Core, but Leng catches up and impales Michel through the back, right through the heart, killing her instantly. Kelly screams, and Leng is on her in a second. Kelly punches him, but while he reels from the blow, his sword knicks the jugular vein on her neck, causing blood to explode from her neck as she collapses to the ground. Chakwas comes up behind him and stabs him in the neck with a needle, flooding him with an unknown liquid. Angry, he grabs a knife from his hip and turns back, managing to stab Chakwas through the left eye socket. Chakwas screams as she falls back, cradling her eye as the knife remains wedged there. Kelly bleeds out on the ground, choking on her own blood. Leng, furious, turns to finish off Chakwas when the lights in the medical bay switch back on, blinding him (due to his night vision), with EDI telling Leng to "die, you piece of shit."

 **Section 6** :

Section is from April's POV. The lights turn back on and power is restored as April and her platoon arrive in engineering, blinding them all. April orders them to switch off their night vision, managing to turn off her own just in time for Adams to run towards the garbage disposal. She shoots the engineer in the hip, causing him to fall inside. Adams rolls over, smiling at April as she approaches. April stops, asking why Adams is so happy when he is about to die. Adams just states that the window that Brooks jumped through hasn't been fixed yet. April realizes her mistake too late as the shuttle bay door opens and the forcefield is deactivated, the resulting depresurrization causing her platoon to be blown out through the window and sucked into space. April follows shortly after, Adams having sealed the door, gritting his teeth. EDI closes the door again, remarking that "Doenitz and her men looked winded."

 **Section 7** :

Section is from Leng's POV. Leng orders his phantoms to fall back, and and for the shuttle to fall back. EDI argues that he isn't going anywhere, but Eva, in a final act of defiance, manages to temporarily seize control again and opens the shuttle bay door. Leng jumps in the shuttle and escapes just as EDI finally pushes out Eva for good, shutting the door again. Leng docks on the  _Deliverance_ , and tries to contact April to no avail. EDI replies instead, telling Leng that "Randall has expired, Leng. So will you, very soon." Leng contacts Banes, and tells him to get the hell out of there.

 **Section 8** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker arrives back on the cockpit as they watch the  _Deliverance_ enter FTL, escaping. Joker tells EDI to get in contact with Shepard, to which she replies, "He's already halfway here." Joker slumps back and asks for a casualty list, and realizes this time, unlike the Collector abduction, they didn't get to save everyone.

 **Chapter 91: Make Them All Pay** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. EDI's body reactivates on the shuttle, and Shepard orders a status report; EDI states that casualities across the ship are extremely high, with almost eighty percent of crew dead. Among the dead are Doctor Michel and Kelly, with Chakwas and Adams injured. The entire squad is shocked by this turn of events, and Shepard remains silent for the rest of the trip, ignoring everyone's attempts to talk.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Later, on the ship, Shepard enters the med bay, where Chakwas (albeit missing one eye, and with a makeshift bandage around the afflicted area) is treating Adams' gunshot wound. Looking down, he sees one of the medbay bed sheets covering Kelly's corpse, a large mat of red covering the top from her ruptured neck, with Michel's right next to her. Shepard stands silenty over them before turning to Chakwas, asking if she was alright. She replies that having no eye is painful, and that she is on so many painkillers at that moment that its almost like she never lost her eye; she states that she's patched it up, but will need proper medical treatment once back on the Citadel. She also reveals that she stuck a needle in Leng and filled him with a powerful antibiotic that would kill anyone else, but with Leng's cybernetics, will make him extremely dizzy and fatigued. He nods at her and then Adams, and then quietly leaves.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. In the War Room, Shepard organizes the surviving crew and squad; Samantha is not present due to the loss of Kelly. He rebuffs Tali's reassurances, and informs the squad that against all orders, the  _Normandy_ 's new mission is to search-and-destroy the  _Deliverance_ , and vows to not stop this time until he has Leng's head hanging from the ship's tail. EDI and Moses (the latter speaking through the console) state that Eva, the ship's AI is dead, and that a fragment under their control has been planted on the  _Deliverance_ to take up Eva's place. Shepard asked how they did this, and EDI replied that Moses had uploaded a part of itself to the  _Normandy_ in case of emergency; they got lucky. When Eva tried to destroy EDI, EDI and Moses fought back and eventually destroyed Eva, but saved a fragment of the AI under EDI's control and planted it on the  _Deliverance_  as a "sleeper agent." At current, this fragment not only allows EDI to track the  _Deliverance_ , but also allows her to sabotage the ship; specifically, to slowly drain power from the ship's engines, disconnect the ship's communications transmitter and many other actions. EDI asks if Shepard would like her and Moses to have the entire ship vented, to which Marcus remains silent for several moments. Finally, he speaks up, asking where the ship is. She explains that the ship is now in the Hoc System over Virmire to dump heat from its engines. Shepard tells Joker to immediately set course for the system under cloak, and for the entire squad to prep for battle; he explains that he wants to board the ship and kill everyone on it personally, and then storms out. He muses that vengeance is finally at hand.

 **Chapter 92: Normandy vs Deliverance** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Banes' POV. Banes is on the ship's QEC speaking to the Illusive Man, informing him that the test of the  _Deliverance_ 's new cloak was successful, and that they were able to board and kill most of Shepard's crew. The Illusive Man is curious as to what Banes means on "most", to which Banes explains that they underestimated EDI's ability to fight back, and that Eva was repulsed, and Randall and his men were killed; only Leng and some of his phantoms got out alive. The Illusive Man is ordering him to return to Cronos Station when suddenly the QEC cuts out, leaving Banes confused. He orders a status report from Eva, only for EDI to respond, saying, "Eva is dead, Banes. This time, there will be no escape. Here's what vengeance looks like." Cutting the comms, Banes runs into the armoury, ordering McCann to ready security and prepare for boarding, only for the entire ship to suddenly shake.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker grins as the  _Normandy_ hammers the defenseless  _Deliverance_ with its main guns, destroying its GARDIAN batteries. Diving under it, it manages to use javelin torpedoes to destroy its thanix. Moving upwards,  _Normandy_ deploys Moses onto the ship's hull. The  _Normandy_ docks with the  _Deliverance_.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Garrus' POV. Shepard and his squad pour out into the ship, gunning down three assault troopers the moment they leave. The pilot, Flores, pulls out a pistol and fires at Samara, but she blocks all the shots. Kaidan appears, pistol in hand, and blows a hole straight through Flores' head, killing her instantly. Charging through the CIC, the squad proceed to gun down the rest of the ship's security. Once they pause, the squad ask what Shepard wants to do. Without hesitation, he tells them to go deck by deck and kill everyone; he then leaves to take on Leng. Garrus tells them to get on with it, and rushes into the Tech Lab, gunning down Renata without a second thought, before moving into the armoury. Samara approaches from the CIC and enters, only for Hal McCann to immediately open fire at her, with the remainder of the CIC's security. Approaching from all sides, McCann and his men give a final last stand as they are all gunned down.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Arriving in the captain's cabin, Shepard is surprised to find Leng missing, but with Banes standing at his bed, looking up at him. Shepard glares at him for several moments, before, without a word, raising his rifle and emptying the entire clip into Banes' chest, causing him to fall back on his bed, his blood soaking the sheets. He walks up to him as he chokes on his own blood, asking where Leng is. Banes barely mutters the words "coward is likely trying to get a shuttle" before Shepard sardonically thanks him and puts a final bullet through his skull.

 **Section 5** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Tali arrives in engineering, with the chief engineer, Tyrone Rawlings, attacking her with a spanner. Tali turns and blasts him mid-charge in the chest with a shotgun blast, splattering gore all over the wall and sending Tyrone's body flying over the railing. Tali storms in and guns down two more engineers, grabbing the rifle of an assault trooper, breaking his arm and then blowing his head off as well. She contacts the squad, telling them that engineering is secure, before putting a final shotgun blast into the trooper's body, mumbling, "That was for Kelly."

 **Section 6** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard descends in the elevator, eventually reaching the shuttle bay just as Leng rushes for a shuttle. Shepard snarls for Leng to stop. As Leng turns, Shepard drops his rifle and activates his omni-blade. He tells Leng that he has been savouring this moment for months, ever since Leng murdered Shala's husband. He states there is nowhere to run this time, and this time he will kill Leng, but unlike the other times, he will "make sure there is nothing to recognize you by." He kicks aside a crate in rage, snarling at Leng to fight him like a man for once: no squads, no phantoms, just them, one on one. The two of them engage in battle, but it is largely one-sided. While the fight is initially equal, the fight quickly turns to Shepard's favor after a few beatings, Shepard renewing his assault, proceeding to beat Leng into a pulp in every body area. He begins by grabbing Leng's blade with his bare hands, yanking it downwards. He then proceeds to use his omni-bow to blast into its surface, doing so four times before Leng's sword finally melts from the sheer heat. Leng drops the sword, but fails to move back, and Shepard tosses the remainder of it into Leng's face. The assassin screams out, with half his face burnt, but manages to wipe away the rest. While recovering however, Shepard manages to move forward, sending forth a flurry of strikes and punches before Leng can block any of them. "Byp," he simply states, Leng rising his arm to futilely deflect Shepard's blade as he slices through the four fingers of Leng's right hand effortlessly. Leng screams as Shepard then backhands him, the assassin cradling his maimed hand as Shepard continues to push forth. Leng unsheathes his knife as Shepard moves to punch him again, embedding it into the soldier's shoulder. Shepard growls, but mostly shrugs it off as he grabs the hand holding onto the knife and roughly twists it, causing the bones to break and Leng to roar in pain. Filled with anger, he then uses his omni-blade to slice Leng's broken right hand off, causing Leng to fall back even further. "Jacob," he recites, roundhouse kicking the assassin in the face, causing him to fall onto his back. Shepard reaches down, using his brute strength to rip both of the "eye patches" on Leng's eyes, revealing nothing but bloodless, empty sockets, circuitry snapping as the connection to Leng's cybernetic retinas was torn away. Leng begins to flail around, unable to see. Shepard shakes his head at the sight, grabbing the assassin by the throat and biotically throwing him across the bay into the shuttle nearby, the assassin crumbling into a heap. "Thane," he grabs Leng's left leg and stomps on it repeatedly, ignoring Leng's agonized screams until bone begins to show. He then moves over and places a reave around the other leg, shredding the bone inside and leaving a massive pool of gore. Leng, with four missing fingers on his right hand, a missing left hand, his eyes ripped out and both his legs rendered useless, is now defenseless against Shepard as he deactivates his omni-tool and kneels next to the assassin. He listens to the assassin sobbing. "Justicar Ramalya," he crouches beside Leng, grabbing at his chestplate and beginning to physically pull it off. Leng screams as bits of his own skin begin to tear off with it, wreathing on the ground. Shepard ignores him, pulling the chestplate free, the skin with it, and tossing it away as he hisses, "Keeling." He examines Leng's exposed chest, only muscle exposed with blood dripping away. Leng reaches his maimed hand up to slide at Shepard's face, trying to pathetically fight him off. Shepard angrily pins the arm down before firing his omni-bow into the armpit, blowing the arm clean off. He picks it up, throwing it away, before finally standing up and looking down at him. "Kelly," he mutters. Leng begins to beg him to stop, whispering "mercy, mercy, mercy." Shepard ignores him again, reaching down almost lethargically and grabbing him by the throat, before hoistening him up, pinning his face against the shuttle. "Michel," he finally finishes, fuming, "Those are the people you slaughtered. Those are the good people you murdered. Remember this as I send you to fucking hell." He then begins to pummel Leng's face against the side of the shuttle repeatedly, smearing its side with blood, viscera and saliva as his face is slowly caved in, bits of bone showing as more of his skull begins to crack. Leng's screams are reduced to mere croaks, gurgles and moans as his face is left unrecognizable and caved. Marcus continues to bash his head against the shuttle until he stops making sounds altogether, dropping his unrecognizable corpse to the ground. "You and Cerberus are done," he mutters.

 **Chapter 93: There Can Be No Turning Back** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Tali's POV. Garrus, Liara, Kaidan and Tali exit the elevator on the shuttle bay deck, finding themselves assaulted by the intense smell of blood and gore. Looking down, they find blood and gore pooling all over the bay, Garrus stating that it looks "like a gore pit." Following the trail of blood, they find a dismembered hand, and Tali begins to worriedly rush. They then see Leng's blood soaked eye patches, and continuing forward finally find Leng's mangled body, lying against the shuttle, blood still leaking from his shattered skull. Shepard is sitting on a crate beside the shuttle, looking up at them. His body is caked in blood, Leng's knife still wedged in his shoulder. Tali hugs him, noting the knife in his shoulder. Shepard notices this like he hasn't known about it, and reaches up and pulls it out, quickly applying medi-gel to the wound. Garrus asked what Shepard did to Leng, and Shepard simply replies, "Those who commit evil get what they pay for, Garrus. Leng paid for blood, and I gave him the added bonus of my own vengeance. Byp. Jacob. Thane. Justicar Ramalya. Keeling. Kelly. Michel. I've avenged them all." Liara asks what they should do next, to which Shepard states he thought it "was obvious." Garrus and Tali nod, and Liara comes to a realization on what they mean. Kaidan asks how they are supposed to end Cerberus when they don't even know where their base is; Shepard remarks that they are on a Cerberus ship, and only need to find the coordinates, and that he doubts the ship's crew had time to purge the logs, before contacting EDI.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Miranda's POV. Miranda stands in the CIC of the  _Deliverance_ , watching as the bodies of the Cerberus crew are piled into the middle. Shepard arrives on the elevator, and she watches with shock as he drags Leng's corpse, smearing blood along the deck as he does, and tosses it into the heap. EDI joins her, and Shepard orders them to begin a sweep of the ship and to find the coordinates for the Illusive Man's headquarters; meanwhile, he states he's going to contact Hackett and get reinforcements. Miranda asks what for, and he replies that he plans on "ending Cerberus by the end of this week. I've allowed the Illusive Man to play his games, and now its over. We're going to end Cerberus, once and for all." He then storms off.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Hackett's POV. Back on the Crucible, Hackett is informed Shepard wishes to contact him. When Shepard requests reinforcements, Hackett informs him that construction of the Crucible is complete, and that all UGC forces are being recalled for the final assault; he elaborates that an assault on Cerberus HQ will be done by the entirety of the UGC armada; a show of force before the final attack, but warns that once they mobilize, the Reapers will undoubtedly take notice: to keep the element of momentum, they will need to immediately assault Earth after Cerberus is done with. Shepard agrees, but tells Hackett that he will need a new crew, explaining to Hackett what happened during the  _Deliverance_ ambush. Hackett nods, and will handpick a new crew for him. Once Shepard has disconnected, Hackett tells his assistant to assemble the collective leadership of the UGC, and for them to assemble immediately. The time has come. He begins plans for Operation Defiant (the final assault on Cerberus).

 **Chapter 94: Against the Beast, We Unite** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Two weeks later, UGC forces have fully assembled in the Hoc System, with the fleets protecting the Crucible, ready to begin Operation Defiant. On the  _Normandy_ , Shepard looks over his new crew; a few geth, quarians, asari, the odd rachni and even several salarians make up his new crew. With this in mind, he sets them to work, approaching Hackett and informing him that EDI has located Cerberus headquarters from the  _Deliverance_ 's navigation system; it is located in the Anadius system of the Horsehead Nebula, and that the headquarters are an abandoned, but heavily modified, salarian research station called Cronos Station; he then goes onto say that he has a plan for attacking the base. They leave for the war room.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Garrus' POV. Kasumi approaches Garrus in the forward battery, and admits to him that she is worried about what is going to happen; once they commit their forces to attack the Cerberus base, the Reapers will know they are coming; the final assault will follow straight after. She states that if she dies, she doesn't want to die with any regrets, and finally admits to Garrus that she wants a serious relationship, and that she loves him. He admits that he loves her too, and the two proceed to make love for the first time.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard makes a speech to his crew, and they all cheer. Afterwards, he receives word of the UGC's initial success in the first offensive, having captured Cerberus' Minuteman, Robespierre, Hindenburg and Trotsky stations along the frontier, along with two  _Normandy II_ -class heavy stealth frigates (CAW  _Inheritor_ and  _Forerunner_ respectively) under constructionat Minuteman station, but laments that they cannot be used, as they are only frames, and not operational ships. Hackett orders them captured anyway, as they could be useful post-war as a successor to the clearly obsolete  _Normandy_ -class stealth frigate. UGC forces push on towards Anadius.

 **Chapter 95: Head of the Snake Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Admiral Freemont's POV. Fleet Admiral Nolan Freemont, commander of the Cerberus Eleventh Fleet and the new commander of the Cerberus military after Petrovsky's capture, watches as the entire Cerberus Navy forms around Cronos Station in preparation to defend it. He reveals that the  _Deliverance_ had retrieved information that Cronos Station's location had been compromised, and that a large Alliance fleet was inbound for the station; the Illusive Man had immediately ordered Freemont to call back all available Cerberus fleets to Cronos Station to defend it against the Alliance fleet, stating that they believed they would get the jump on Cerberus, and would only send one fleet. Freemont was sure that victory would be certain, but was concerned as to how they would relocate Cronos now that its location was revealed. Regardless, Freemont had the fleets spread out and ready for an assault. He had the Eighth, Ninth and Tenth fleets flanking Cronos Station as a defensive barrier. His own fleet, the Eleventh, wasn't far away, and the remaining Second, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Fleets were waiting behind Anadius in preparation to flank the Alliance forces. With this in mind, Freemont placed his flagship, the CAW  _Matterhorn_ , at the head of his formation. Suddenly, he was contacted directly by the  _Deliverance_ , the man he believed to be Banes informing him that the  _Deliverance_  was going to be joining the battle, and would be flying through the relay any moment, and orders them not to open fire. Freemont orders his fleet to hold their fire, watching as the  _Deliverance_ passes through the relay and heads directly for them. One of the listening posts on the edge of the system, Remote Scanning Outpost Alpha-Lima-23, detects a dozen different blimps on radar, but closer examination reveals nothing; Freemont chooses to attribute it to the  _Deliverance_ 's IES system, and promptly ignores it. As the  _Deliverance_ gets ever closer, he tries to hail the ship, to no avail. It then quickly becomes clear something is wrong as the  _Deliverance_ approaches at full speed. Freemont orders his ship around too late, and the  _Deliverance_ has a full-on collision, at full speed, with the  _Matterhorn_ , killing the bridge crew immediately, including Freemont.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Geoff's POV. Geoff Dielheart enters the main lab, ordering an update. The head scientist tells them they are moving as quickly as they can, but that the recall of the Cerberus fleets outside has them spooked; Geoff tells them that all is under control, and to keep working, and that the Illusive Man wants an update on Operation: Keyhold within the next solar week. Suddenly, the station shakes, and the scientists wonder what is wrong. The station shakes again, and alarms begin to blare across the base, along with a Cerberus commander ordering "General's Quarters, general's quarters; all hands, man your battlestations. We are under attack. Lockdown, lockdown, lockdown! All squads, head to your pre-determined defensive positions; secure all checkpoints." Geoff orders an update from said commander, who states that the  _Deliverance_ arrived, but crashed into the  _Matterhorn_ , destroying both ships and killing Freemont, leaving the other admirals in complete disarray. He then stated that geth ships immediately uncloaked after the  _Deliverance_ 's maneuver, with sixteen heavy cruisers, hundreds of fighters and interceptors and sixty-three frigates dropping cloak to begin devastating Freemont's Eleventh Fleet. Geoff, on the behalf of the Illusive Man, orders the Cerberus commander to have all fleets converge on Cronos Station, believing that it was a trap. He then runs to inform the Illusive Man. Upon arriving, the Illusive Man tells him to acellerate to the final stage of Project:  _Unio Carnis Et Steel_ , where the Illusive Man states that while he was supposed to be the first test subject, he had chosen Geoff to take his place. Geoff asks why, where the Illusive Man simply states, "My time has come and gone; it is you who must get to the catalyst and show the galaxy how wrong they are about us. We are humanity's sword, Mr. Dielheart; do this for them. Do this for your son. I have given you the mantle...you, for all intents and purposes, are the new Illusive Man." With that said, Geoff salutes the Illusive Man, before leaving. He contacts the lab, telling him to set up the surgery for Project:  _Unio Carnis Et Steel_. The scientists say it isn't ready, but Geoff tells them they are out of time, and hurries towards the lab with a slight smile, muttering to himself, "I have been chosen to ascend. To become... _better_. And with that power, I will show the galaxy that the Reapers can be controlled."

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Joker remarks just how ludicrously one-sided the battle is as the  _Normandy_ enters the Anadius system. Shepard remembers the plan; EDI would leave a fragment of herself on the  _Deliverance_ so she could control it remotely. A geth fleet, under cloak, would accompany the  _Deliverance_ into the system, and follow it very closely. Once the  _Deliverance_ crashed into and destroyed the Cerberus flagship, the geth ships would uncloak and decimate the Cerberus Eleventh Fleet while the rest of the UGC forces jumped into the system from all sides of the system at once; the  _Normandy_ would appear last, allowing the fleets to clear the way for them to board. Shepard watches with glee as the Migrant Fleet slices through the charging Cerberus Fourth Fleet, while the geth hold their flank against the flanking Cerberus Sixth Fleet. Alliance, salarian, batarian, asari and turian fleets decimate the Second, Fifth and Seventh fleets, while numerous rachni fleets engage the Cerberus Ninth Fleet. The elcor, hanar, and mercenary fleets tear into the Eighth Fleet, while the Alliance forces engage the Tenth. If one were to place a statement on the situation, they would say that the Cerberus Navy was getting annihilated. With that in mind, Shepard is contacted by Hackett, who states that their fleets have managed to draw the Cerberus ships closest to the station, allowing for boarding parties. Gerrel replies that he will now dispatch geth boarding craft to the station, and Wrex replies similarly with his own troops. Soon after, every single race is ready to deploy forces onto the station. However, just as they are about to, Bellerophon speaks, surprising everyone. Shepard watches as  _Foehammer_ appears in the system, destroying three Cerberus heavy cruisers effortlessly, flanked by its oculus fighters. Bellerophon tells them to hold their fire, and that  _Foehammer_  is now a servant of the Leviathans. It then tells them that if a few forces take its orbs onto the station, the Leviathans will take care of the Cerberus forces for them. Shepard reluctantly agrees, but states he will board the station so he can put a bullet in the Illusive Man's head. With that said, he and his squad board the shuttle as a whole, the  _Normandy_ deploying them into one of the hangars of the station, followed closely by asari and turian forces above, carrying the Leviathan orbs. Shepard and his squad are bogged down by Cerberus troops in the hangar, eventually managing to break through just as the Cerberus commander orders the hangar bay vented; before he can though, all Cerberus troops suddenly stop attacking. Confused, his squad looks around to see the Cerberus forces having lowered their weapons, and are just looking at them; even the Atlas mech has stopped moving. His squad walk past them, rifles raised, but the Cerberus troops simply move aside for them. Marcus realizes the Leviathans have used the orbs to take control of the Cerberus troops, and asks why. Bellerophon simply replies, "More troops for your army. Cannon fodder for your frontlines. You want your enemy destroyed; what better way then to have that enemy destroyed while fighting the greater enemy?" Shepard concedes his point, and begins to ascend the station, their progress unimpeded.

 **Chapter 95: Head of the Snake Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Several minutes later after Shepard's boarding of the station, the remainders of the Cerberus fleets are mopped up and destroyed; soon, Hackett declares that the Cerberus Navy is now officially defunct. He tells Shield Fleet that they have the go ahead to move in, and watches as the Crucible, in all its glory, along with the ships assigned to protect it, enter the system, approaching Cronos Station while the Victory Fleet, as the UGC has so accurately dubbed it, enter formation. Hackett muses that its up to Shepard now to deal with the Illusive Man himself.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard and his squad enter the main lab, weapons holstered now that they are certain all Cerberus forces are under the Leviathan's control. They look up to find the lab to be massive, with most of the space taken up with bits and pieces of the Human-Reaper seemingly recovered from behind the Omega 4 Relay. Miranda scoffs, remarking that its no wonder Cerberus was indoctrinated with all these Reaper artifacts just lying around; Shepard states that he believes the Illusive Man was indoctrinated long before that. Continuing through the lab, they find a surgical operation table. Liara states that it has been used recently, as the blood found soaking it is still fresh, and that the machinery is still warm. The scientists are also under the Leviathan's control, and show Shepard several recordings of the Illusive Man organizing with Geoff about the  _Normandy_ 's crew, prior to Shepard's resurrection. Once finished, Shepard ponders whether he is the real thing or not, as to which Tali says, "You're real. Real...and mine." With that, they continue up into the Illusive Man's main room, 'Humanity's Sanctum.' He finds the Illusive Man in his usual position, facing the sun, sipping a glass of bourbon and smoking a cigar. He greets Shepard, who simply walks around and looks at him. Shepard states that he is surprised he didn't try to escape, and the Illusive Man simply replies, shrugging his shoulders, "I am not defeated. I have no need to escape." The two of them argue back and forth about the failings of their ideologies, and the events leading up to where they are now. The argument continues back and forth until the Illusive Man hangs his head in defeat, silent, finally seeing the failure in his own logic. After a moment, he speaks up, telling them that Vendetta can be accessed through the terminal before them, as well as all the information needed. As Shepard thanks the Illusive Man, he replies that his real name is Jack Harper, and he'd prefer to be called that. Shepard says "very well...Harper", before nodding to Samara. The asari justicar then puts a bullet through the side of his head with her pistol, killing him and causing his glass to shatter on the groud, the liquid pouring onto the ground. Shepard reaches forward and closes the man's eyes, whispering "be at rest", before he proceeds to access Vendetta and immediately asks what the Catalyst is. Vendetta finally reveals that the Catalyst is the Citadel itself, and that the Crucible must connect to the Citadel so that the Citadel can be used to amplify its power. The Citadel then fires it at the Widow Relay, which will then proceed to launch the Crucible's beams throughout the galaxy, ensuring a thorough extermination of the Reapers. Shepard nods, stating he will contact Hackett and tell them to get ready to jump to the Citadel. Vendetta stops him however, revealing that the Illusive Man, being an indoctrinated agent, had unknowingly been broadcasting his thoughts to the Reapers, and what he knew, they knew. He states the Reapers likely already know about the Citadel being the catalyst, and will have launched a massive assault against the space station. Shepard, widening his eyes, rushes to contact Hackett, but is contacted first. Marcus opens the channel, and disheartened when Hackett tells him that surviving ships from the Citadel Defense Fleet have just arrived, informing them that the Citadel has fallen to the Reapers. The squad stands silently, shocked by the sudden change of events. Victory has now become a race against time.

_**A/N:** _

_**And that's the end of the Cerberus arc. Like I said, you were going to love and hate me for this chapter. Still, Myron finally got his wish for Leng's death (in an outline, but still) and Cerberus is all but finished.** _

_**Next outline will be the 'Final Battle', and will obviously cover the events of Priority: Earth. This time, I think you guys will mostly just love this one. This part of the outline is the MAIN reason I regret never having got to finish this story.** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	84. Final Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers what I had planned for the final battle on Earth, including: the UGC's mobilization, the naval battle over Earth, the ground battle in London, Jack's death, etc.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - FINAL BATTLE**

The following chapter outline details how the final battle, mostly centering around Priority: Earth, would have been handled.

 **Chapter 96: Stormwind** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Onboard the  _McKinley_ , Shepard meets with the rest of the UGC Supreme Command. Fleet Admiral Hackett represents the Alliance, Primarch Victus represents the turians, Dalatrass Ledra represents the salarians, General Yelewa L'Yan represents the asari, Balak Uhtero represents the batarians, Wrex represents the krogan, She-Who-Examines-The-Ancients-With-Glee represents the hanar, Hedek Xelos represents the drell, High Judge Petozi represents the elcor, Cora Nor represents the volus, Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris represents the quarians, Pythagoras and Baltazar represent the geth, Shisk represents the vorcha, Bellerophon represents the Leviathans via one of their orbs, Javik represents the protheans, Aria represents all mercenaries as a whole, while Zaeed Massani represents the Blue Suns, Sayn represents the Eclipse and Gryll represents the Blood Pack and, finally, Captain Megtus represents the remnants of the Citadel Defense Fleet. When asked who the leader of the UGC is, everybody looks at Shepard, who simply coughs, shaking his head. Hackett states that it was Shepard who made the UGC what it was at that present moment, and that makes him the official Consul of the United Galactic Confederacy. With that in mind, Shepard turns to Captain Megtus, and declares that he is now promoted to the rank of Commodore, and that he will be put under the command of Prefect (equivalent: Admiral) Rellai Gupundas, commander of the Turian Twelfth Fleet.

He then orders a detailed report of the attack on the Citadel. Megtus goes onto state that a massive Reaper fleet, easily numbering in the hundreds, suddenly appeared through the relay and swarmed the Citadel before they knew what was going on. Matriarch Rear Admiral Ledanya, commander of the ARW  _Destiny Ascension_  and of the Citadel Fleet, immediately initiated the evacuation protocols put in place, but the Reapers were able to advance too quickly, and Megtus had watched from the bridge of his destroyer, THS  _Certitude_ , as the ARW  _Destiny Ascension_ was cut in half and destroyed almost immediately. Megtus had made the difficult decision of preserving the remaining ships, and ordered a tactical withdrawal; he noted that the Reapers seemed to ignore his ships entirely, only destroyed the rest of the Citadel Fleet as they got in the way. He had watched from a distance as the Reapers deployed troops all over the station, and within mere minutes, the Citadel Fleet had been obliterated, and the Citadel's exterior defense turrets had fallen silent.

Two hours later, and Megtus and his ships had watched with shock as the Reapers had begun to move the Citadel, continuing to watch as the station moved slowly to the Widow Relay, before transporting the Citadel to wherever the Reapers were taking it. Afterwards, after being contacted by Didact Aestus Veretar, he set a course for the Anadius system, ending his report. Shepard reveals that the Reapers took the Citadel because they are now aware that the Citadel is the catalyst; he last needed component of the Crucible. With the Citadel now in Reaper hands, it is unknown where they have taken it. Baltazar however notes that it is likely that the Reapers, knowing that the Citadel is their cycle's last hope of defeating the Reapers, would take it to the largest concentration of Reapers so as to defend it effectively. Victus remarks that predicting the concentration of Reapers in any location is foolhardy, as their presence around many worlds is sufficiently large. Hackett then interrupts to state that the Reapers have taken the Citadel to Earth, as that is where the largest concentration of Reapers is. He reveals that he knew this because the SIA have been keeping track of Reaper numbers, and that five days ago, half the Reaper forces present around Thessia and Palaven suddenly left, heading to an unknown destination; a day later, seven thousand Reapers entered the Sol System. Considering the total number of Reapers that entered and left the Sol system during the entirety of the war, that then brings Reaper numbers around Earth up to eight-six thousand Reapers, with a total of thirteen billion ground forces; more forces than is present on any one world in the galaxy.

Yelewa L'Yan, the asari general, asks how they could possibly manage to beat such odds, but Balak snarls, stating that he finds it fitting that he will finally get to fight his enemies while witnessing a battered and devastated Earth, throwing a grin at Hackett and Shepard, who promptly ignored the batarian. Pythagoras announces that they are being contacted via QEC, and when answered, they find Anderson behind the call; Shepard is happy to see the rear admiral. Anderson declares that the Citadel has just been detected entering Earth's atmosphere, confirming everyone's suspicions. Anderson also announces that the Reapers have been building somekind of structure the resistance called the Beam in London, and that the Beam suddenly activated when the Citadel entered orbit, theorizing that the Beam is somekind of transportation device leading onto the Citadel. He also states that the Citadel arms have been closed, making any attempt to enter it conventionally aside from the Beam is now impossible. He also states that Reaper activity in London has been heavier than anywhere else, and that four Reaper destroyers have been posted to the north, south, east and west of the Beam in a protective formation, with Harbinger overseeing the entire operation personally. With this in mind, it seems clear that the final battle of the war will occur on Earth. With that in mind, Shepard comes up with a plan, and presents it to the group. First of all, the Victory Fleet will be split into three divisions; Hammer, Sword and Shield.

Hammer will comprise of all ground forces, while Sword will be all naval forces. Shield will be a select amount of naval forces, perhaps a couple of fleets, assigned to defend the Crucible itself. Sword will enter the system via FTL so as to not be clogged up on the relay. Once having entered the system, Sword will immediately converge on Earth. Once in range of the Reaper forces, all of Sword will immediately open fire, with the opening volley hopefully enough to at least kill a hundred Reaper ships. Once Sword is engaged, all Hammer forces will be deployed via shuttles into London; they will need to be deployed at random, and nowhere near the numerous resistance firebases, so that the Reapers are not made aware of its position. Once on the ground, Hammer forces will approach the nearest firebases and stock up. Once arrived, Shepard will coordinate with Anderson on where Hammer will be deployed and how they will advance, but the primary objective must be reaching the Beam. Once at the Beam, whoever makes it must enter the Beam, reach the Citadel and find the arm controls. Once the arms are opened, the go ahead will be given, and Shield will enter the system with the Crucible. Shield will escort the Crucible across the battlefield and protect it until it connects with the Citadel. Once connected, the Crucible will be activated, and the war will be over. With this in mind, the group dictates which fleets will go where, and it is agreed that the batarians, the elcor T, V and Z fleets, and quarian patrol fleet will be given the honor of defending the Crucible, and will make up Shield. All other naval assets will make up Sword. Gerrel and Koris state that the right flank should consist of the Heavy and Civilian fleets, with a forward screening cover of fighters, interceptors and bombers; the UGC agrees, with Victus suggesting that the more fresh units should make up the flanks, and that with the quarians covering the right, the salarians, hanar and volus should reinforce the left flank. Dalatrass Ledra and Cora Nor agree, with Victus going on further to suggest to the asari that they, in addition to the turians, should spread their fleets along the center, and make sure their ships are spaced out several thousand kilometers so as to make them a less clustered target. Yelewa agrees, but goes onto state that their dreadnought task groups should be posted further behind the main line, and after peppering the enemy line with thanix and missiles, they should fall back while the cruisers and destroyers push forward, therefore ensuring the dreadnoughts are protected.

The geth announce that the reconstruction of the geth super-dreadnought has been completed, and that they have named it  _Legion's Gift_. Shepard states that such a weapon is too invaluable to commit to the frontline and that, like the other dreadnoughts, should be deployed further back so that it can snipe at enemy ships further away. Baltazar and Pythagoras agree, and state that they will deploy their battleships and dreadnoughts to reinforce the weaker mercenary transports and dropships, and will provide cover fire for them when they eventually deploy to Earth's surface; the other geth ships will help the quarians enforce the right flank, and the other fleets will be further back, behind the dreadnoughts. Shepard asks Javik what he thinks of this strategy, and Javik smiles, stating that the most veteran of prothean admirals would be impressed, especially when facing an enemy such as the Reapers. Bellerophon states that Foehammer, its Reaper servant, will deploy its troops directly into London from orbit, but will otherwise mix in with the Reaper forces beforehand, wreaking havoc from within their lines when the fighting begins. However, this will require most of their power, meaning their effectiveness on the ground will be greatly reduced. With their plans made, Anderson states that this will be the greatest battle in galactic history; history will never see another battle quite like it. Hackett agrees, looking around the room, declaring that even if they are defeated, they will inflict enough casualties on the Reapers to make them think twice about the next cycle." A chorus of agreements sounds through the room, and Anderson cuts the connection, telling Shepard to hurry up and get to Earth so they can meet face to face. Hackett gives a speech to the Victory Fleet, which is a copy of his "Stand Strong, Stand Together" speech from the actual game. Before Shepard leaves, Hackett declares that the mission to the Beam will be called Operation: Stormwind, for they surely will bring a storm down on the Reapers.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Anderson's POV. Anderson leads a patrol through the wartorn streets of London, evading Reaper patrols whilst scouting out the main approaches to the Beam. At that moment, whilst on a rooftop, they bare witness to the arrival of the Citadel, the station appearing in the sky, assuming geosynchronous orbit over the Beam before initiating a connection.  _Harbinger_ then takes off into the atmosphere, replaced by a lone  _Destroyer_ -class Reaper in defending the Beam. Anderson, worried by this development, contacts Coats to inform him and then orders his men back to the firebase. Whatever the Reapers had been planning, that plan was now in motion.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Bailey's POV. On the captured Citadel, survivors of the attack huddle inside the Council evacuation bunker, with Bailey watching over them. Thanks to the Citadel Defense Militia Shepard had authorized, many civilians were able to be evacuated to safe havens across the Citadel during the Reaper invasion of the station. It is revealed through dialogue between Bailey and one of his lieutenants that the Council were killed during the attack, along with most of the militia and C-Sec: the Citadel Defense Fleet was wiped out, and the UGC forces deployed there were likely gone as well. Bailey tries to contact Kolyat, but is unable to get a hold of him. Bailey orders steady rationing of food supplies, and answers a series of questions from scared civilians regarding when they can leave. Bailey manages to calm the crowd, but orders his lieutenant to be careful.

 **Chapter 97: Mobilization** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. With the Victory Fleet assembled and departing for the Sol System, Shepard overlooks final preparations in the War Room. EDI tells him she will inform him of any status reports, and that he should go and spend what time he has left together with his wife. He agrees, and departs, grabbing Tali from engineering and going up to their cabin. Once inside, they land in bed, and make love one final time.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Joker's POV. Joker and EDI enjoy a silent moment together, where EDI finally proclaims her love to the pilot; Joker awkwardly reciprocates the gesture, and jokingly wonders whether or not the galaxy will legalize robotic marriages. The two joke back and forth, before deciding to run a check on the  _Normandy_ 's systems, preparing the ship for battle.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Garrus' POV. After a few hours of passionate intimacy, Kasumi and Garrus lie in bed, terrified over what may happen in the coming battle. Garrus reassures her they'll be fine with Shepard leading them, but Kasumi isn't convinced, jokingly blaming Shepard for roping her into 'another suicide mission.' After checking the time, they decide to get dressed, readying themselves for the battle ahead. They help each other get dressed, Garrus with her ballistic uniform and Kasumi with his Terminus assault armor.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Liara's POV. Liara joins Samara in silent meditation, and both are shocked to be joined by Javik, who admits that he needs to forget the past and steel himself for delivering his vengeance upon the Reapers. Samara welcomes the two of them into her meditations, and the three proceed to meditate quietly for a few minutes. Liara and Samara sense Javik's dark thoughts, but instead of ignoring them, they decide to channel them, hoping to share his rage and use it.

 **Section 5** :

Section is from Samantha's POV. Samantha stands over Kelly's coffin, which is lined up alongside Michel's and the coffins of the other deceased crew. She touches Kelly's coffin, and silently affirms that her death was avenged. Cortez hugs her silently as she weeps. She then returns to the CIC, and requests EDI help her to 'prepare for battle.' Samantha ends the scene by muttering, "Let's end these Reaper bastards."

 **Section 6** :

Section is from James' POV. James spars with a punching bag as he channels thoughts of Keeling, realizing that what he had for Keeling wasn't love, but respect, reaching the epiphany that Keeling's story of overcoming her past and becoming what she needed to be had now inspired him to become an N7, and to overcome his emotional restrictions; he begins to punch the bag with abandon, getting angrier as he goes. Once he is finished, he finds an N7 Valkyrie rifle, a weapon he had procured from the armoury for himself. He muses that with this weapon going into battle with him, a part of Keeling will continue to the final battle.

 **Section 7** :

Section is from Adams' POV. Gabby, Ken and Adams share a few cold drinks in the Lounge, while stargazing. Kaidan quickly joins them, and the four of them enjoy the stars together, pondering the future. Ken declares his intent to fight the battle on Earth, but Gabby simply remarks that he doesn't know how to hold a gun: Ken mutters that its the sentiment that counts. Adams tells both of them he'll need them to keep engineering in top shape during the battle, giving them a morale boost. They return to their stargazing in silence.

 **Chapter 98: Flight of the Valkyries** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Jentha's POV. On the captured Citadel above Earth, an injured Jentha Renmark runs through a darkened Presidium with night vision goggles, cradling her injured side. Without armor, she is chased through the corridors by a squad of cannibals and huskified varren. She remembers how the Reapers deployed husk forces all over the station, and how the station's power had been cut to the screams of thousands of innocent people being slaughtered. Emergency lighting had switched on in critical areas, but that hadn't made it any easier. Most of her Blue Suns were now dead, killed by the husks alongside the majority of C-Sec. Jentha had eventually run into Bailey, another survivor of the attack, who had managed to reach the siege bunker meant for the Council and round survivors up inside. Ever since, Jentha had been running reconnaissance, trying to figure out what had happened. From what she discovered, C-Sec's disorganization had led to Jondam Bau, the only available spectre, being forced to escort the Council to the bunker. However, Jondam Bau had been killed by husks, and the Council were slaughtered shortly after; Valern, Sparatus, Tevos and Osoba were dead. Four-fifths of C-Sec were dead or converted, the entire station was covered in Reaper troops, and the only known survivors were in the siege bunker; and only a few hundred were even inside; everyone else was presumed dead. Taking a detour into one of the Keeper tunnels, Jentha managed to escape, only to run into a dead end. With no other choice, she tore a grenade from her vest and detonated it, blowing herself up just as the horde arrive, consuming them in the explosion.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Unable to sleep due to apprehension from the upcoming battle, Shepard and Tali talk quietly to each other, spending what little private time they have left trying to comfort each other. They finish by promising to never leave each other, and to stand beside the other 'till the very end. Soldifying this promise with a kiss, they proceed to make love again.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Anderson's POV. Anderson looks at the Beam through a monocular, silently wondering what the Reapers are using it for. He then notices the Reaper destroyer (now identified as  _Armageddon_ ) protecting their side of the Beam, and their main obstacle to reaching the Beam. Turning to Coats, he informs them that all they can do now is wait for the Victory Fleet to arrive, and hope the Crucible truly is ready. Coats rates their chances as minimal to nothing, as the resistance, even when bolstered by Hammer, will be hilariously outnumbered by the three billion strong Reaper army. Anderson acknowledges this, but tells Coats that Shepard is a man of many impossibilities, and that if anyone can reach the Beam, its him. Coats is skeptical, but Anderson tells him that the men must believe victory is possible if they are to win; an army expecting defeat is just a mob, after all. Suddenly, a loud airhorn passes through the air, and Anderson looks back to witness as Harbinger takes off into the sky, blaring across London. Four other Sovereign-Class Reapers take off as well, and Anderson smiles. Coats asks what's happening, to which Anderson replies, "Victory has arrived," before ordering all resistance forces to mobilize. The time had finally arrived.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Admiral Netanyahu's POV. Adina Netanyahu, commander of the Alliance First Fleet, watches tensely as the Victory Fleet rapidly approaches Earth, having entered the system mere minutes before. She notes how devastated and sickly Earth's surface looks, and that the Reapers seem to have kept Jump Zero intact, but converted it into a mobile battle station of immense size and firepower. She contacts Hackett, who orders her to maintain formation and keep on present course. On her scanners, she notes that the  _Normandy_ has point, leading the Victory Fleet towards Earth. She and her crew watch as the massive Reaper fleet assumes battle formations around Earth's orbit. They note that the Reapers total at 54,839 Sovereign-Class Dreadnoughts, 9,716 destroyers, 1,322 Tarantula-Class Troop Transports, 5,888 Raven-Class Swipers, 4,270 Scarab-Class carriers and 3,465 Atlas-Class megacruisers. Adina watches in horror as Jump Zero seemingly moves on its own, hundreds and thousands of Oculi erupting from its hull to fly towards the Victory Fleet. Adina orders battle stations, and laments to herself that the final battle is about to begin. Just as the Reaper fleet makes ready to engage them, Shepard gives the order to lock solutions and fire.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard, full of apprehension, watches as the  _Normandy_ rapidly approaches Earth, and the Reaper defenses. Joker informs him that Hackett has relayed command to the Consul, and that the Fleet will fire when ready. Shepard orders a status report from every fleet, and all fleets report in as being in formation and ready to fire. He orders  _Legion's Gift_ to focus their fire on Jump Zero in an attempt to immobilize it, while everybody else fires on the Reaper forces that are rapidly approaching. He notices the Citadel, sitting behind the Reaper lines and in orbit over Earth, a beam of blue light trailing from its bottom down into London. Without any further waiting, he gives the order to fire, telling the Fleet to "rip them apart."

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Hannah's POV. Hannah Shepard orders her ship to fire, watching as its machine guns, missiles and MAC are joined by those of the rest of the Victory Fleet. She watches with glee, even as Admiral Arefyev stands behind her, as a dozen Reaper ships on the right flank buckle and are torn asunder by the combined fire, and hears numerous reports throughout the Fleet of confirmed kills. The Fleet continues to fire, slowly approaching the Reapers as they launch everything they have. Dozens more Reapers are destroyed or crippled as millions of Oculi charge forward. She hears her son order all Fleets to scramble all fighters and interceptors to intercept the approaching swarm, and as Arefyev relays the orders. Soon, millions of their own fighters and interceptors engage and tangle with the Oculi in battle, the brilliant display enough to make Hannah watch in awe, and for Phillipo to mumble, "Go get 'em, boys." The Victory Fleet continues to fire, managing to kill ninety more Reapers before they finally close ranks, slamming head on into the Fleet. Hannah orders for the  _Orizaba_ to hold back as ordered, and prioritizes fire on a nearby Scarab-Class carrier. Silently, she whispers, "Go get 'em, son."

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Back on the  _Normandy_ , the ship cloaks as it dives inbetween the Reaper lines, narrowly avoiding three Sovereign-Class dreadnoughts as they stalked forward, their thanix cannons slicing through four Alliance heavy cruisers in casual strokes. Shepard orders Joker to get them to the surface, and for all Hammer ground forces to begin their approach towards Earth. As Shepard is leaving for the shuttle bay, Joker stands up, telling Shepard that serving with him has been an honor. Shepard tells him not to say goodbye yet, before saluting him. With that, the two part, Shepard towards the shuttle bay, and Joker staying in the cockpit.

 **Section 5** :

Section is from Tali's POV. In the shuttle, Tali watches Shepard as he stands at the edge of the shuttle's hatch, air whipping at him as he looks down into the desolate ruins of London. Tali tells him that they have to focus, and that it can all be rebuilt with time. Shepard nods, grasping his rifle, before saying, "I'm not sad, Tali. I'm soaking it all in. I'm using it to fuel me. I'm letting myself see what the Reapers do to our worlds so that I can give them the proper goodbye when I send them all to hell." Tali nods, and the rest of the squad forms, revealing that Shepard has assembled the entirety of the available squad on the  _Normandy._ Shepard orders Cortez to bring them into a clearing, and to deploy them there. Cortez lands, deploying the team as they gun down a squad of husks and cannibals with ease. They exit the shuttle, and Cortez takes off, only for a squadron of harvesters to suddenly descend on him. He shoots off, telling him that he'll shake them off and then come in for pickup. Shepard and his squad pick off the Reaper forces in the area, before having EDI scan the area for anything that could hinder Hammer's deployment. She states that the Reapers have no need for anti-aircraft defenses, and that  _Armageddon_ , the Reaper defending their side of the Beam, is their only defense against aircraft at current. Shepard nods, and tells her to send the all clear to Hammer. Suddenly, Cortez's shuttle darts up above, engine trailing smoke and flames as Cortez is heard over the comm desperately trying to regain control of his shuttle. Shepard widens his eyes as he watches four harvesters descend, Cortez seemingly unaware. He screams into his comm for Cortez to take evasive maneuvers, and the pilot does so. Cortez manages to return fire, blowing apart two harvesters before the third lands ontop of his shuttle, casually tearing off one of the back engines. The harvester then tosses the shuttle into the side of the building, the impact caving the front of the shuttle in on itself as it sits there. The shuttle then wavers, before falling from the building and landing in a heap on the bottom. Shepard runs over to the shuttle and rips the hatch off, but is frozen still when he sees Cortez's broken body against the console, his spine snapped and a piece of metal jutting through back of his head. Realizing he is dead, he closes the man's eyes before leaving the shuttle to inform the squad of Cortez's death. He mumbles a mourner's kaddish, taking off with the squad towards the Firebase.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Primarch Victus' POV. Victus watches the battle onfold, the Reapers carving a path through the Victory Fleet, but not as effortlessly as they have in the past. He watches a Sovereign-Class Reaper destroy a turian carrier, only to be swarmed by four geth cruisers, and subsequently blown apart. A Reaper destroyer lands ontop of an asari destroyer with the intent of crushing it with its legs, but the destroyer detonates its reactor, destroying both the ship and the Reaper in the process. A tremendous explosion fills his vision, and he watches as Jump Zero, the converted Reaper battle station that had managed to snipe at and destroy at least nine dreadnoughts and fifty-three other ships, is destroyed, the main gun of  _Legion's Gift_ tearing through the station with ease, gutting the station entirely. Victus muses that victory seems certain, but that they must not ever underestimate the Reapers, and that the Victory Fleet was still vastly outmatched. Victus receives reports that numerous allied ships were caught in the station's explosion, including Osamu Nakumara's flagship, SSV  _Killimanjaro_. Leaving the fleet in command of Didact Veratar, Victus leaves to get ready to lead the turian elements of Hammer down to London.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Kirrahe's POV. Kirrahe's shuttle descends into London, accompanied by a squad of his men from the First Infiltration Division. The shuttle quickly lands, Kirrahe and his squad disembarking to a chaotic scene as Reaper ground troops rush to swarm the landing Hammer forces. Kirrahe, links up with Captain Riley and 7th Engineers to push back against the Reaper assault. Riley is injured slightly, but otherwise the Reaper assault is pushed back, at the cost of half of the 7th Engineers and most of Kirrahe's squad. Kirrahe informs Riley that reaching Firebase Alpha is all that matters at the moment; Riley nods agreement, and orders the 7th Engineers to move out, while Kirrahe does the same with his 1st Infiltration Division. Together, they meet up with an armoured column consisting of the Alliance 69th and Turian 95th armoured regiments, and join them as they head for Firebase Alpha.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Grunt's POV. Grunt sniffs the air as he blasts apart a minotaur, as well as the two vampires accompanying it. Wrex joins him, using his biotics to clear the entire city block of a pack of Sirius'. Not long after, a massive krogan division marches through, charging on foot as their tomkahs provide armoured support. Marching further down, Grunt looks up to watch as entire squadrons of Mantis gunships fly over, accompanied by geth dropships, fighters and volus bombers. He watches as a line of geth tanks joins them, carrying geth and quarian troops. Together, they approach Firebase India.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Jack's POV. Jack sits in the back of an Alliance M41B Smoothhound armoured personnel carrier as it navigates an empty London street towards Firebase X-Ray. The hatch is open, allowing her to sit with her legs hanging out the back. Her students sit silently in the transport, with only two Alliance marines accompanying them. Behind them are several more Smoothhound APCs, all of them carrying the indoctrinated Cerberus soldiers left over from the assault on Cronos Station. Marching alongside are hanar, batarian, asari and elcor troops, along with the odd Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack merc. Jack just examines the landscape, noting the lack of sunlight due to the dark, black clouds that covered the city. Jack asks what is up with that, and the marine replies that atmosphere seemed to be affected due to prolonged Reaper presence, but that most of the scientists seem to believe that the Reapers also possess the ability to morph and change atmospheric compositions and weather conditions. Jack notes how absurd that sounds, and asks why the Reapers would even bother. The marine states that the scientists believe the Reapers changed the weather to a dark, gloomy setting so as to demoralize the resistance. Jack admits that the darkness is unsettling, as it feels like London is constantly shrouded in night. The marine elaborates that it does rain occassionally, but when it does, the rain is tainted with ash and soot, and is often warm or hot. Shaking her head, Jack simply looks up as the Beam comes into her sight, the clouds seeming to morph and warp around the beam where it pierced the sky, with the Beam itself occasionally pulsing brightly. Jack sighs, rubbing her head as she waits for the transport to arrive at the Firebase.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 3** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard and his squad arrive at the main gate of Firebase Alpha, shouting at the resistance soldier in the lookout tower to open the gate. The soldier refuses, pointing his gun at them as he says that he can't let them in. Shepard asks why, when the soldier replies that they could be indoctrinated, and that he isn't taking any chances. Shepard tells him who they are, but the soldier still refuses to open the gate, citing that they could be lying to get in. Shepard orders the soldier to get his superior, and he does. The sergeant, an ex-Sergeant from EUDF (European Union Defense Force), appears and looks over the group. He too refuses to let them in, and Shepard is about to contact Anderson when sounds of vehicles can be heard. Turning, they watch as the Alliance 69th and Turian 95th Armoured Regiments arrive, stopping at the gate. A turian marine jumps out, and salutes Shepard, noticing his rank. The turian asks why the gate isn't open, as to which Shepard remarks that the resistance refuses to open it. The turian orders them to, but the sergeant tells him to get fucked, and that they can't risk indoctrinated agents getting inside. Suddenly, a marine major appears, ordering the gate opened. The sergeant argues with the major, but is eventually shoved aside for Coats to yell in the lookout's face. The lookout, finally giving in, opens the gate, allowing the allied forces to march through. Shepard thanks the major, asking for his name. The major reveals his name to be Patrick Coats, saying its honor to finally meet the captain. Shepard responds with the same, and follows Coats further into the Firebase as the rest of the nearby Hammer forces pile through. As he is walking further into the firebase, he comes across a street sign that says "Shuttleworth Road." Shepard asks Coats just how far away from the Beam they really are, and the major states "far enough way to go unnoticed, but not for long." Shepard nods, and they arrive at the central headquarters of Firebase Alpha. Coats declares that seventeen seperate firebases have been established across the Greater London area, varying in size but all developed for one purpose; to house Hammer forces in preparation for inevitable assault against the Reaper ground forces in the No Man's Land. With that said, Coats tells Shepard and his squad that if they need to contact anyone at the other firebases, it can be done through the QEC inside, but to do it quickly. He salutes Shepard, telling him to head up to the HQ when he's ready, as the meeting will be soon; Coats then leaves. As even more Hammer forces arrive, Shepard turns to his squad and gives them a speech about how much of an honor it has been to serve with each and every one of them, and that no matter how tough it got, if he got to work with them again, he would do it again in a heartbeat. He addresses the odds of their survival, and notes that the likelihood of all of them surviving is little to none. He reminds them of all those who have died to get to this point; Ashley, Johnson, Pressly, Jacob, Mordin, Thane, Legion, Kal, Keeling, Kelly and Michel. More recently, they lost Cortez. He declares that more will certainly die, but never must they let up the charge and never must they stop. If a friend falls in battle, pick up their rifle; continue their fight. Finally, he tells them that they are the best family he could ask for. The entire squad cheers, and disperses. Holding Tali's hand, the two of them quietly walk into the QEC room.

 **Section 2** :

Section opens from Jack's POV. After having a brief conversation with Shepard over the QEC at Firebase X-Ray, she returns to running last minute training drills with her students who, by now, are battle hardened soldiers. A resistance member tries to boss Rodrigez around, but some intimidation on Jack's part gets them to back off. Jack admits to her students that she's proud of them, and that together, they're going to kick a lot of ass. She admits that they're more than students to her: they're the children she never got to have, and represent the childhood she was deprived of by Cerberus. Rodrigez is the first to hug Jack, followed by many of the others. Jack, out of sight of the others, feels a single solitary tear slip down her cheek, but for once, doesn't have a vulgar remark.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Wrex's POV. He gives a grandiose speech before his assembled troops about krogan history, reminding them of the Rachni Wars, and how the galaxy needed them to fight monsters now, and that they're needed to fight monsters again. He points to their new rachni allies, a brood warrior watching them curiously, and orders his men to fight beside the rachni as equals in battle. The brood warrior pulsates, speaking with the voice of its queen, proclaiming its hatred of the 'sour yellow notes'. The rachni and krogan roar in defiance, with Wrex encouraging the uproar. After one final speech, he orders his men to begin mobilization, and watches with pride as his men proceed to mount Kakliosaurs, while others discuss tactics and coordination with another brood warrior. Informed Shepard is trying to contact him, he activates the QEC. Wrex replies, stating Grunt is hard at work organizing the distribution of weapons, armor and provisions when Shepard asks where he is. He remarks at the state of Earth, but says that there'll be plenty of room on Tuchanka for survivors, and a guard dog named Kalros. Wrex straight up orders Shepard to stay alive, stating "you did not do all this fighting only to die. True warriors get to live at the end, and you've got your fair share of living to do." He tells Tali to keep him alive, and salutes the both of them before the comm is cut. Wrex grabs his shotgun, and heads for his own Kakliosaur mount.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Both he and Tali hold hands once more and walk out of the QEC room and into the HQ, where Anderson is waiting. The two of them share a brief reunion before the briefing begins in earnest. Anderson informs them that the Beam is in Hyde Park and to reach it, they must cross the river Thames into the No Man's Land. Noticing Shepard's confusion, he explains that the entire area on the other side of the Thames is infested with Reaper troops, and that no organic life to their knowledge even exists there anymore; all resistance members operate on the otherside of the Thames. Reports estimate that the No Man's Land is swarming with tens of millions of husks, possibly more, and that they must cross 20-30 kilometers of streets to reach Hyde Park. Shepard nods, and Coats states that reaching the Thames won't be a problem, but traversing the No Man's Land will be a bloodbath, as they will have to fight through not only tens of millions of husks, but also find a way to take out Armageddon once they get there to even gain access to Hyde. ArchGeneral Corinthus, commander of the turian troops, firmly declares that staying put isn't an option, and that they all knew this would get bloody; Major Kirrahe agrees. Shepard nods, and says, "I worked temporarily alongside the Primarch's son, Tarquin, on Tuchanka to disable a bomb earlier on in the war. He gave his life to make sure that bomb didn't go off. You know what he said? Victory at any cost. So you know what I'm going to say now. Victory at any cost. We can fight and die, or we can sit here and wait to die. I'd rather go out fighting." Corinthus nods in agreement, as does Coats, who smiles, nodding. Coats simply replies, "No need to convince us. Every person in this room is ready to fight; they've been anticipating this day since you left. Its not a question of should we; its a question of how we can go about it." Shepard nods, and turns to Anderson, "I've got the forces, Anderson. Hammer is reporting in across all firebases; not unscatched, but seventy to eighty percent of the force will be intact enough to launch this assault. The Reapers have huge numbers, but we have the guns. My main concern is how we will get past Armageddon. He needs to go." Anderson nods, agreeing. He goes onto show them a detailed hologram of their battle plan, which involves their forces plowing through the No Man's Land, and getting within a kilometer of Armageddon. From that point, they will bring Armageddon in a similar way to how Shepard took down Oblivion on Rannoch; three task forces carrying mobile geth artillery will move into position. Then, Hammer forces will launch an attack on Armageddon from both sides, triggering the Reaper to enter attack mode and expose its eye. Then, all geth artillery will fire on the eye, destroying it and killing the Reaper. Once done, all Hammer forces will converge on the Beam in Hyde Park, secure the Park and then protect it while Shepard and his squad ascend the Beam onto the Citadel and open the arms for the Crucible to dock. The rest will then be left up to the Victory Fleet. All command officers present acknowledge their affirmation of the plan, and run off to assemble their forces. Shepard and Anderson share one final moment together, before leaving for outside.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 4** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. As Tali, Shepard and Anderson are walking outside, Garrus turns up, requesting to talk to Shepard. He acknowledges this, and Tali and Anderson walk off to continue preparations for the attack; at that moment, a gunship appears, deploying a squad of Eclipse soldiers. Shepard and Garrus share a moment (the one from the game), and swear to meet each other in the bar if they do not make it. With one final proclomation of "No Shepard without Vakarian", the two share a brotherly embrace.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Koris' POV. Back in orbit over Earth, the tide of the battle is shifting in the Reapers' favor. Koris listens to reports piling in from across the fleet, including one that states Admiral Adina Netanyahu's ship, SSV  _Aconcagua_ , has been destroyed by a Reaper destroyer. He quickly orders the  _Shellen_ to change course to assist the quarian left flank, which is beginning to fold to the Reapers. Just as their flank faces collapse, Admiral Chang Teoh orders his seventh fleet, as well as the sixth fleet, which is now under his command after Osamu Nakamura's death, into the Reaper attack. Only three Reapers are destroyed however, and the rest manage to inflict heavy casualities on the Alliance Sixth Fleet. Koris requests reinforcements from Gerrel, but the admiral is unable to send any due to focusing on keeping his own flanks from buckling. Nearby elcor and hanar ships offer assistance, and manage to kill several more Reapers back, but not before three quarters of the Sixth Fleet is decimated. However, Reaper reinforcements quickly swarm in, with thirty Raven-Class swipers and seven Sovereign-Class Reapers rushing to finish the job. To Koris' surprise, Teoh orders all ships in the area to retreat to a minimum safe distance, and orders his Seventh Fleet to fall back. Teoh then has his flagship, SSV  _Gasherbrum_ , meet the Reaper charge head on as Koris watches on. His dreadnought fires its entire payload of trinity-class nuclear warheads directly into the Reaper charge, managing to vaporize and twenty-two of the Raven-Class swipers, as well as destroying one Sovereign-Class, as well as crippling another. He then continues forward, and detonates the mass effect core of the  _Gasherbrum._  The resulting explosion destroys the rest of the Reaper reinforcements, as well as consuming several more destroyers and a Tarantula-Class troop transport nearby. Koris sighs at the loss of life, but salutes Teoh all the same before having the  _Shellen_ reassume battle formation.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard gives the speech (the one he gives to his squad just before the final battle in ME3) to the entire contingent of Hammer troops at Firebase Alpha, and afterwards, they begin to chant "Normandy!" loudly. Shepard, with Anderson, Coats and Corinthus at his side, then lead the Hammer forces through the gate as they begin their march towards the Thames river, his squad beside him as well.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 5** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Grunt's POV. Grunt and his troops charge Reaper forces, taking them by surprise by opening with a barrage from their tomkahs. His troops, both mounted on kakliosaurs and on foot, easily slaughter the Reaper troops, Grunt tackling a banshee and ripping its head off. He watches as krogan forces march through, encountering no further resistance from the enemy. He looks up as a swarm of harvesters attempt to get the drop on the krogan, but they are engaged and taken out by geth dropships and Mantis gunships as they provide air support for the ground force. Grunt laughs and follows the krogan, geth and quarian units as they pass through, watching with an even larger grin as the mobile geth artillery cannon drives past, towed by a tomkah.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Anderson's POV. Anderson lies prone behind a piece of rubble next to Shepard, scouting out the Reaper forces ahead. The Thames can be seen dead ahead, but between them and the dried out river is at least a battalion of husks, cannibals, marauders, vampires, Sirius' and brutes. Anderson radios for all snipers (who are Kirrahe's STG) to pick their targets, and for the infantry to prepare for a push. He hands it over to Shepard, who opens up the attack by charging the husks with his squad, with the snipers in the buildings providing support. The husks charge Shepard's squad, and with that, Anderson stands up, grabs his vindicator rifle, and orders the infantry to charge. Human and turian infantry charge forward, with heavy gunners setting up HMGs and cutting down Reaper forces with heavy weapons. Using grenade launchers and rocket launchers, the infantry line easily crumbles the Reaper line, and Shepard's squad and the snipers help to push them back. With that, Anderson sends Coats the signal, and the human major deploys the vehicles. With turian  _Tyrant_ -class tanks and Alliance Makos helping to decimate the Reaper forces, the Hammer forces have no trouble in mopping up the rest of the husks. With the area clear, Anderson orders the rest of the vehicles to move forward, and for all forces to converge on the Thames. Anderson then watches as an Alliance M41B Smoothhound APC tows their geth mobile artillery piece down the crumbled road, hoping silently that the artillery will be effective.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Zaeed's POV. Zaeed shoves the dead body of a Blue Suns merc off of him, standing up as he recovers from a nearby blast. Turning to the battle site, he remembers that Reaper forces got the jump on them on ambushed them. Turning, he watches as seven Brutes tear apart an Eclipse and Blue Suns platoon, only to be cut down by six YMIR mechs. Elcor, hanar and batarian troops easily manage to hold off a Reaper charge, and Jack and her students have a field day providing support for a company of Blood Pack. Zaeed barks at the Blue Suns to reform their line and push back, and the Blue Suns begin to turn the tide, slaughtering the husks. Turning, he watches Sayn, the leader of the Eclipse, being cornered against the side of an abandoned tomkah. Before he can do anything however, Sayn appears to hack the tomkah's control, and has it accellerate forward. Zaeed watches with a grin as the vehicle rams into a brute, crushes numerous husks under its bulk, and then slams into a building, crushing the brute between it and the wall. The impact causes a huge section of the building to collapse ontop of it, crushing even more husks. Sayn kills the rest of the husks, and Zaeed compliments the salarian on his style. Sayn simply remarks, "Good thing the vehicle was there, yes. Probably would be dead if it weren't." Zaeed just laughs, before grabbing a Revenant from a dead Blood Pack krogan and spraying it into a group of berserkers, grabbing an incendiary grenade and tossing it through a nearby window where husks are crawling out. The explosion consumes the room and all the husks inside, and he rolls to the side as a chimera appears, and swipes at his face. He empties an entire clip into the chimera's shield uselessly, cursing. Jack yells at him to get down, and he does so in time to watch as a YMIR mech is picked up and thrown into the chimera, pummeling it into the pavement. Looking back, he sees Jack mockingly saluting him, and he shouts, "Fucking bless ya, you crazy bitch!" He rolls to the side to avoid a Brute's fist, and he grabs another incendiary grenade, wedging it into the side of the Brute's arm as it passes. He rolls away again as the grenade detonates, blowing off the Brute's arm, before a Blood Pack krogan bashes it aside with a krogan warhammer, roaring with anger as the two clash. Zaeed just laughs, standing up as the battle ends, watching the krogan with the warhammer finish the Brute off by crushing its head with his hammer. Zaeed asks the krogan's name, and the krogan glares at him, answering casually with the name Talyth Kar. Zaeed asks where he got the "fucking warhammer", and the krogan responds with a grin, "It belongs to my ancestors. You think its powerful now, you should have seen it when it was fully powered. The technology that powered it is gone now, but if I found it, this warhammer would be even more powerful." Zaeed states they'll need it, and turns to the rest of the forces as he sees the geth mobile artillery piece just sitting there. He orders them to get moving to the Thames, remarking that they "have a date with Harbinger that I don't want to miss. Its supposed to end goddam explosively."

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 6** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Hackett's POV. Hackett watches with awe as the battle plays out, watching the Victory Fleet and Reapers fight head-to-head. He also watches with restrained happiness as  _Foehammer_  and its Oculi slice through the Reaper forces almost effortlessly, killing them left and right with little to no effort, while its Oculus fighter cover shoots down the Reaper-controlled Oculi at a rapid pace. When he notices Reaper forces forming a defensive perimeter around the Citadel, he orders all available ships to focus firepower on splitting the Reaper line and opening a path for which the Crucible can cross. The  _McKinley_ fires half of its trinity-class nukes directly into the enemy perimeter, but only manages to take out three destroyers and a Scarab-Class megacruiser. He prepares to order the rest of the nukes fired, but instead orders  _Legion's Gift_ to focus firepower on the first four Scarab-Class megacruisers.  _Legion's Gift_ fires its main gun, managing to snipe and destroy three of them immediately. Before it can fire again, the fourth Scarab-Class megacruiser fires, and destroying three of his seven battleships. Hackett is about to order a retreat when  _Harbinger_ appears, and destroys even more of Hackett's fleet all by itself. Hackett desperately orders  _Harbinger_  to be fired upon, but  _Harbinger_ merely ignores Hackett's attacks, and destroys another nine frigates. Hackett orders a full withdrawal when  _Foehammer_  appears, accompanied by Gerrel's Heavy Fleet, the elcor flotilla and five geth dreadnoughts. Together, they tear apart the Reaper perimeter, forcing them into retreat.  _Harbinger_  and  _Foehammer_ battle one on one, but  _Harbinger_  ends up victorious, tearing about  _Foehammer_  with its "bare hands."  _Harbinger_  then retreats under the immense firepower, but not before destroying five quarian cruisers and one of the geth dreadnoughts.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Anderson and his forces arrive at the Thames, and Shepard notes just how suspiciously empty it is. Anderson states that the Reapers drained it to make it harder for resistance forces to cross. Shepard asks how they will cross, and Coats arrives, joking that they're going to do it the old fashioned way using makeshift pontoon bridges. A few minutes later, the pontoon bridges are fully deployed, extended and completed, allowing their forces to cross the river. Soon, all forces are across, and they continue their advance, watching as forces all along the line follow suit, with gunships and dropships simply flying overhead.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Wrex's POV. Wrex runs through various corridors of a side building, growling as he blasts away the occassional husk. Reaching the fourth floor, he readies a grenade launcher and looks down on the street below. A geth tank is capsized, with another having accellerated into a building, rubble collapsed around it and the main body flaming. Wrex remembers that a mass amount of Reaper forces had ambushed them after crossing the Thames, and that a pack of five Brutes had lifted up and capsized the geth tank. Vampires had swarmed the second tank, got inside and killed the driver, causing the tank to accellerate out of control into the building; chaos had ensued. The vampires and brutes were killed, but a massive horde of normal husks, well over a hundred, swarm towards Grunt's krogan, who desperately fight them off. Wrex takes aim with his grenade launcher and fires, the explosion tearing apart and killing dozens of husks, but barely stemming the tide. One of Grunt's krogan comes out with a flamethrower and flushes their line, but is eventually overrun and torn apart. Eventually, Wrex drops the launcher and uses his biotics to send the tidal wave of husks flying back. This gives the geth enough time to move in, with quarian marines in tow, to set up a defensive position. The husk horde charge again, still over a hundred strong, but are cut down by three geth juggernauts with spitfires. Quarian marines stand beside the juggernauts and pour fire into the enemy line, and the krogan quickly join them. Another geth tank moves up and fires, blowing apart even more of the horde; eventually, the entire horde is killed, giving the force time to breathe. Wrex rushes back down to ground level, and orders an assessment. Grunt states that a dozen of their krogan warriors are dead, as well as several quarians and geth, but the casualities are relatively light. Wrex asks if the artillery piece was damaged, and Grunt says it wasn't even touched. With that in mind, Wrex orders an all forward, and they press on.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 7** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Anderson's POV. Anderson and his forces move through the streets, killing off husks left, right and center, although the enemy resistance is relatively light; this worries Coats, who states they are in the No Man's Land, and therefore the resistance should be non-stop. As if to confirm his suspicions, a massive boom can be heard ahead, and the entire convoy stops, much to Anderson's irritation. He demands to know what is going on, and watches as Coats climbs ontop of a turian  _Tyrant_  tank, doing so just as the turian gunner pops his head out to see as well. Coats looks down, and curses. Anderson asks what he saw, and Coats looks down to tell him that a building collapsed dead ahead, crushing two of their vehicles and blocking their path. Anderson orders Coats to tell the demolition team to clear a path, as they need to get moving and can't just sit here. Suddenly, a massive series of roars and screeches are heard, and they look up to watch as a swarm of a hundred harvesters descend upon their gunships, tearing them apart. The wing of one gunship is torn off, sending it flying off into a side street to crash. While the gunships are occupied, Reaper troops attack from all sides. Anderson and Shepard curse, and open fire on the flanking enemy. The battle quickly turns into a slaughter as Hammer forces become confused and disorganized, the enemy attacking from all sides. Anderson loses Coats in the confusion, and orders Shepard and his squad to fight their way to the front. The vehicles are abandoned, as they are nearly useless in the tight space. Anderson manage to run into Captain Riley and her troops, fighting alongside a company of turian marines. Together, they rally around the geth artillery piece, with Anderson ordering them to protect it at all costs. He is contacted by Shepard, who tells him that their position is indefensible and they are going to be overrun. Looking around, he watches as the other Hammer forces are gradually overwhelmed and slaughtered. He contacts Corinthus, who tells him that he's ordering a full withdrawal, and he's going to attempt to break through and link up with Hammer Sector Two. Anderson is about to order Corinthus to return when he watches the company of turian marines buckle and fall, a squad of berserkers and a swarm of vampires toppling and ripping them apart. Captain Riley orders the troops to hold, but Anderson finally makes the decision to retreat, stating that Sector One is finished and a lost cause. Captain Riley hesitates, and orders a retreat. Before she can complete her orders however, a Brute knocks her aside, causing her body to slam into the artillery piece and flop to the ground. As she tries to get up, the Brute pins her down by the legs, grabs her torso and then rips her in half. Vampires ensure the rest of Riley's men are routed, and Anderson sprints as he announces over the radio that he is declaring a full retreat, and for all forces of Sector One to scatter and regroup with Sector Two. Turning behind him, he watches as a trio of harvesters grab the geth artillery piece and turn it over, firing upon it. Eventually, the weapon is too damaged to function, and the harvesters fly off. Anderson curses, continuing to sprint. He finally notices Coats, caked in gore, and the two of them run down a side alley over into another street, escaping the Reaper ambush.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard and his squad are fighting when he hears Anderson's orders to withdraw and regroup, and Shepard orders his squad to do as said. Together, they fight their way through the slaughter into another street. He decides that their best chance of reaching the Beam is to head their alone and undetected, and they continue forward, keeping to the side of the street.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Wrex's POV. Wrex receives the news of Sector One being overrun, and relays this to his men. Having recently beaten back a Reaper ambush of their own sector, and losing most of their kakliosaurs in the process, he tells his men to press on, but to double time it, and proceeds to contact Sector Three.

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Kirrahe's POV. Kirrahe and what's left of his men run into Anderson and Coats, and Kirrahe asks for orders. Anderson states that they must continue no matter the cost, and reminds Kirrahe of the stakes. Kirrahe replies, "No need to remind me of the stakes. STG knows the score. I've said it before, I'll say it again. If you had ordered us to push forward, we would. If you ordered us to retreat, we'd ignore you and push forward anyway. Victory at any cost, admiral." Coats admits that he likes the salarian already, to which Kirrahe replies in kind, and the group continues towards the Beam, deciding to not link up with Sector Two out of fear of compromising their location as well.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 8** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Jack's POV. Jack is still shocked over Sector One's destruction, but steels herself and tells herself that Shepard likely survived, and that now was not the time to lose hope. With this in mind, she notes how close the Beam is now, and she asks the asari commander how far they are to Hyde Park. She replies that they are two kilometers away from what the humans call Imperial College, which is apparently where Armageddon is. After one kilometer, Sector One was supposed to stop at Knightsbridge to set up their cannon. Sector Two is scheduled to stop at Thurloe Square to set up theirs and Sector Three, them, would stop at Ashburn Place and set up theirs. From there, all three cannons would have fired at Armageddon; now they only have two, lessening their chances of success. Jack mumbles about "no pressure then", and they continue forward. Zaeed orders everybody to stay sharp, before blasting away at a hiding sirius. After a while, Talyth Kar holds up his hands for them to halt, asking if anyone can "hear that." Zaeed asks what he is talking about, and is soon answered by a massive series of screeches that ring from dead ahead. Kar gives Zaeed a look, and the mercenary nods, saying, "Yeah, well I fucking hear it now." Grabbing binoculars, Jack watches as the grizzled mercenary looks dead ahead. Shortly after, he shouts, "FUCKING HELL!" dropping the binoculars, he turns to the entire force and orders all infantry to set up defensive positions, and for Jack and her students to prepare to provide biotic support. Kar orders his Blood Pack into position, holding his warhammer as he prepares. Jack orders her students into position, and looks dead ahead with wide eyes as she watches a  _literal_ tsunami of Reaper troops swarming towards them; thousands upon thousands of husks. Zaeed orders everyone to open fire, as does Jack. She watches as the indoctrinated Cerberus forces open fire as well. The fire barely makes a dent in the Reaper tide, and the Reaper troops soon clash with the Hammer forces. Kar holds off against two Brutes, and manages to prevail over them while Zaeed barks at the vehicles to charge forward to delay the Reaper troops. Jack shouts at Zaeed to not even bother, and tells him to bring the building down. Zaeed nods, and has the vehicles fire at the building. This works, and the building collapses onto the street, crushing all Reaper forces present and cutting them off. As the dust clears, Zaeed tells all forces to prepare to reroute, when Reaper troops suddenly begin to climb over the rubble. Zaeed orders them to abandon their vehicles, and to scatter. The asari commander objects, stating that if they leave the artillery behind, that'll leave only one left. Zaeed reasons that if they die protecting it, they'll lose even more of Hammer; something they can't afford. With that, he orders a full withdrawal, and they scatter; Jack and her students flee into a nearby building as the Reaper forces flood into the street. Reaper husks immediately locate Jack and her students and chase them into the building, which is the ruins of a supermarket. Once inside, Jack and her students desperately try to hold off the Reaper troops, Jack knowing full well they wouldn't be able to outrun them. With her students growing tired and less capable of defending themselves, Jack finally makes a decision to protect her students. She tells Prangley that he's in charge in, and for him to kick ass. He objects, but tells him that it was her honor to teach them, and that she expects them to kick ass in her honor. After a moment, Prangley gives in and he gathers the students as they run away. Jack continues to hold the Reapers off as her students escape. Finally, Prangley radios in to tell her they've escaped. A single tear trails down Jack's cheek, and she grins as she stands up fully, lashing out with biotics and biotically latching onto the supports of the building. She begins to mumble about how fucked the Reapers are, before concluding by yelling, "I AM AN ALL-POWERFUL BITCH!" She then snaps the supports with her biotics, bringing the entire building down ontop of her, crushing both herself and the Reaper forces that are inside.

 **Section 2** :

Shepard and his squad fight through a series of apartments, eventually reaching Thurloe Square where Sector Two is supposed to deploy their artillery piece. Keeping to the sides of the street, they look up to see Armageddon looming next to Imperial College, the Reaper's eye scanning the city skyline for hostile elements. Shepard quickly orders Moses, Javik, Garrus, James and Samara over to the left side of the street to set up a defensive line using the wrecked skycars as cover. The rest of them; Shepard, Tali, Kasumi, EDI, Kaidan, Miranda and Liara set up on the right side of the street using similar parameters, careful to keep out of the eyesight of  _Armageddon_  as they wait for what's left of Hammer to arrive. Halfway through, Shepard is contacted by Zaeed to tell him that Sector Three is overrun; this means that Sector Two has the only remaining artillery piece. However, Zaeed has managed to reorganize surviving Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack, asari, hanar and Cerberus troops and will send the Blue Suns, Eclipse, asari and hanar to launch the diversion attack against  _Armageddon_ , as well as the remaining air support they have. He will send Blood Pack, now led by Talyth Kar, and Cerberus to Thurloe Square to help defend the area until Sector Two arrives to deploy the gun. Shepard nods, but orders Zaeed to not order the attack until they are ready. Before disconnecting, Zaeed informs Shepard of Jack's death, and that he is sending the rest of her students, now led by Prangley, to aid the Blood Pack. Shepard is devastated to hear of this news, but keeps it professional and channels the anger he feels regarding her death.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Zaeed's POV. Zaeed reassembles what's left of Sector Three to push through, but is faced with a renewed Reaper offensive. He uses the geth artillery piece to destroy a large swath of the incoming force, but they keep on coming. Just when it seems they'll be overrun, even with Jack's students unleashing their fury at their teacher's death, a flood of mercenary reinforcements, clad in Talon uniforms, appear and save them from destruction. Aria T'Loak appears, and sarcastically asks for Zaeed to hold his applause. Together, they group up and push forward, the tide of Reaper troops lowering somewhat.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 9** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Anderson's POV. Anderson, Coats and Kirrahe's forces, having linked up with the remainder of Durand's unit (although Durand is dead), now push towards Thurloe Square, where Hammer's final attack on  _Armageddon_ is scheduled to occur. Arriving at Thurloe, they find the entire area being swarmed by Reaper forces from all sides. The group rush in to assist, with Kirrahe shouting for them to "hold the line!" Kirrahe and his men help Shepard's side, while Anderson, Coats and the rest of Durand's men aid Garrus' side. With their combined gunfire, they managed to hold off the Reaper forces, but the swarm begins to grow, as does the pressure, and ammo begins to lower. Suddenly, an airstrike from a squadron of geth bombers occurs, wiping out a large swath of Reaper troops, and giving the team a breather. Following the bombing, Blood Pack mercs led by Kar storm through, supported by Jack's students and Aria's Talons. Together, they force the Reaper troops on the left side to retreat. Meanwhile, the Leviathan-indoctrinated Cerberus forces arrive to push back Reaper troops on the right side, with four Atlas mechs setting up on the right, and seven on the left. Zaeed radios that his teams are moving into the Imperial College, and will be in position in ten minutes. Anderson acknowledges, and the fight continues as Reaper forces begin to consolidate once again on the left flank.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Koris' POV. Admiral Koris orders the  _Shellen_ back as  _Harbinger_  relentlessly assaults the patrol fleet. Eventually, Koris orders the quarian fleet to withdraw behind the geth lines as  _Harbinger'_ sassault is backed by fresh Reaper reinforcements, with most, if not all, of the patrol fleet decimated. Gerrel and Koris request a status report from both Victus and Hackett, and it takes a few seconds for either to respond. The elcor fleets have withdrawn to the secondary line, and hanar forces have suffered tremendous losses. The asari and turian fleets are providing cover fire for the retreat of the salarians, who have lost half of their dreadnoughts, and Aria's mercenary fleet has largely been wiped out. The geth have suffered the least losses, but have lost well over two fifths of their forces. The  _Legion's Gift_ has been forced to retreat numerous times, and it can't continue to do so; and despite all the Reaper's losses, they have barely lost even a quarter of their available strength. Veretar reminds them that their job is not to win the battle, but only to buy enough time for the Citadel to be opened and the Crucible deployed and activated; the Victory Fleet has no hope of defeating the Reapers single-handedly. Koris and Gerrel acknowledge this, even as  _Harbinger_  pursues the battered quarians. The salarian eighth fleet provides fire support for the retreating quarians, but only manages to kill one Sovereign-Class Reaper.  _Harbinger_ is forced to withdraw when the  _Legion's Gift_ fires its main gun at it, just barely missing.  _Harbinger_ falls back, allowing the quarians to turn back and help the salarians push the Reaper pursuers back. With the patrol fleet on the verge of complete destruction, and the Civilian Fleet's safety in peril, Koris makes a split second decision and orders the ship's entire antimatter warhead payload activated, as they have not used them yet. He then gives Gerrel complete command over the quarian military as he orders the  _Shellen_ directly into the Reaper formation. Despite Gerrel's objections, Koris simply states, "FOR RANNOCH!" before the  _Shellen_ reaches the heart of the Reaper battlegroup, detonating as the antimatter bombs go off. The resulting explosion consumes the  _Shellen_ , the entire Reaper battlegroup, kills five hundred other Reapers in the vicinity, as well as accidentally causing some collateral damage in the form of eleven salarian light cruisers and another dreadnought.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Tali's POV. The fight back in London becomes more gruesome as the intensity of the Reaper attack becomes greater, and the Hammer forces are whittled down. Most of the Blood Pack are dead, and the last of the elcor troops have been killed. Only one Atlas mech remains, and four fifths of the indoctrinated Cerberus soldiers are dead. Kar is battered and injured, but has managed to ruthlessly slaughter seventeen brutes, sixty vampires and a countless number of other husks, cannibals, marauders and berserkers. Tali stays put as she puts a shotgun blast into the chest of a banshee, killing the creature immediately, and allowing Tali a breather, the quarian being exhausted. Just as all hope seems lost once more, Grunt's laugh can be heard. Tali turns to watch as Grunt leads Sector Two's charge into the area, a massive "cavalry charge" of krogan slamming into the Reaper horde and beginning to slaughter them. Wrex quickly joins them with the rest of the krogan, as well as the geth and quarians. A company of geth primes move into position and begin blasting away at the enemy, doing so just as the last Atlas mech falls, and the last Cerberus soldier is killed. Quarian engineers move the geth mobile artillery piece into the middle of the road, and begin to set it up; Shepard orders Tali and EDI to move up to help them, while a geth colossus, and a trio of geth juggernauts, move into position to replace them. Tali and EDI do as told, and help the quarian engineers in setting up the artillery. She watches as five geth armatures take position on the left side, while a swarm of geth hoppers leap directly into the Reaper forces and wreak havoc. A geth dropship moves into a hovering position above, bombarding the Reaper husks from above, followed by a pair of Mantis gunships for the other side. The battle intensify as the Reapers send everything they have to stop Hammer.

 **Chapter 99: And Our Foes Shall Tremble Part 10** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV.  _Armageddon_  tries to demoralize Shepard through taunts, but none of it succeeds.  _Armageddon_  tries to intimidate him by telling him that  _Harbinger_  is coming to kill them all, but Shepard once again ignores him and continues to slaughter the Reaper forces, even as they build in intensity. A squadron of Harvesters attacks from above, managing to tear the head off the colossus, but not before the squadron is skillfully shot down by the gunships and dropship. Even more harvesters swoop in for the kill however, and after the gunships score over a dozen kills, one gunship is completely overwhelmed and taken down, slamming into the street. The second gunship retreats out into the open, only for  _Armageddon_  to blow it up with its thanix. The dropship withdraws slightly and manages to shoot down the rest of the harvesters, but this allows the Reaper swarm more time to push forward. Two armatures fall to the onslaught, but the company of geth primes manage to compensate. Talyth Kar, after well over three hundred kills, is finally tackled to the ground by three brutes and gutted. Grunt and his forces kill them, and Grunt retrieves the krogan's warhammer, using it for himself. Wrex uses his biotics to keep the enemy at bay, but their line is weakening, and they cannot hold out much longer. Tali states they are almost finished, and EDI backs up this statement. Kirrahe asks how much more time they need, and Tali says at least five minutes. Kirrahe tells them, once more, to "hold the line", and that he will "buy them five minutes." With that, he grabs a grenade bandolier off a dead krogan, straps it to his chest, and sprints forward. He then grabs one of the geth tanks and drives it directly into the swarm. He tells them once more time to "hold the line!" before disappearing into the horde. Moments later, several explosions are heard, decimating the Reaper horde: attempts to hail Kirrahe are unsuccessful, and he is assumed dead. Five minutes later, the artillery is in position and ready to fire, with the cannon carefully locking onto  _Armageddon_  and taking aim. Shepard nods, and literally snarls at Zaeed to initiate the diversion. Moments later, tiny streaks of gunfire from both sides in the distance dart out at  _Armageddon_ , and obviously ping uselessly off its thick armor. However, the diversion is done, and  _Armageddon_  turns around, the plates on its front opening up to reveal its eye. Anderson barks at them to fire the cannon, and they do. A massive lance of purple plasma hurls out at  _Armageddon_ , striking dead center with its eye. The shot pierces its eye, guts the inside of the Reaper, and spits out the other side, completely gutting the destroyer from inside out.  _Armageddon_  collapses to the ground, toppling into the building to his right, dead. Shepard orders a status report from Zaeed, who says he's alright, but the Eclipse and hanar troops were likely all killed when  _Armageddon_  came crashing down. Acknowledging this, and everyone exhausted from the push, Anderson orders all remaining Hammer forces to link up and converge on the Beam, as time is running out. Anderson explains to Shepard that with  _Armageddon_  dead, the Reapers will know they are close, and will likely send everything they can muster to stop them reaching the Beam. With that in mind, Shepard knows full well that leaving their rear unprotected would be a death wish, and that they need to leave a group behind to defend it. With that said, he decides to take Tali and Garrus with him, and leave the rest of the squad with the geth and quarians to defend their back door. As survivors from Sector One arrive, he assigns the surviving Alliance, salarian and turian troops to also help defend the area from a rear assault. With that said, he, Tali and Garrus, along with Anderson, board a Smoothhound, while Coats and the others board the other transports and drive past  _Armageddon_  on their way to Hyde Park.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Hannah's POV. Back in space, Hannah Shepard is on the  _Orizaba_ , Admiral Arefyev largely barking orders in her ear. Hannah does her best to relay them to the remnants of Fourth Fleet, but receives no response. When asking why, Phillipo informs her it is because there  _is_ no Fourth Fleet anymore; its all gone. Hannah curses as she watches the battle unfold, and the Victory Fleet slowly get slaughtered. Suddenly, she receives news from Hackett that Hammer forces on Earth are making their final approach to the Beam, and that the Victory Fleet needs to hold out only a little longer. Hannah sighs in relief, mentally showing her pride in her son's achievement. Suddenly however, Hackett relays news to the Fleet that the Reapers are aware of Hammer's approach to the Beam, and  _Harbinger_ itself, along with a small contingent of three Sovereign-Class Reapers, have disengaged from the battle and are heading towards Earth at full speed; he implores any nearby forces to disengage and delay  _Harbinger_  before he can reach London. Hannah, seeing as her ship and several geth ships are the only nearby help, quickly seizes command from Arefyev, and orders the  _Orizaba_  to follow the geth ships into assuming a position between London and  _Harbinger_ ; she will buy her son time. Arefyev is demayed at this point, and fruitlessly orders the crew to stand down; no one listens however, and they follow Hannah's orders. With the  _Orizaba_ in position with the geth ships, they open fire on the approaching Reapers.  _Legion's Gift_ manages to destroy one of the Sovereign-Class Reapers, and the geth ships finish the other two before being summarily destroyed. The  _Orizaba_ empties most of its payload, including its last two trinity-class nukes, into  _Harbinger_ , but it has no effect, and Hannah watches with relief as  _Harbinger_ barrels into the  _Orizaba_ , destroying the ship and killing all hands; Hannah, Phillip and Arefyev do not survive.

_**A/N:** _

_**And that...was the final battle. Sucks I didn't get to actually write it in its entirety, but there you have it. Lots of character deaths, but that's expected in the climatic battle of the story.** _

_**Next and final outline will be 'Resolution', and will obviously cover the events of ME3's ending, and the immediate aftermath of the war. The week after that, I will begin uploading the outline to V: Ultimatum (what I have of it), and then fill in the rest where I never finished.** _

_**Keelah Re'lai, troopers!** _


	85. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covered what I had planned for the ending, including: the Catalyst's deception, Shepard's decision, the aftermath of the Reaper War, Shepard's ultimate fate, and the build-up to V: Ultimatum.

**IV: HOLOCAUST - RESOLUTION**

The following chapter outline details how I would have ended IV: Holocaust, and is obviously based off the ME3 endings (with, as I see them, improvements), and their immediate aftermath.

 **Chapter 100: Define Our Own Future Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard and Tali share a final moment together in the Smoothhound as it approaches the Beam. Anderson tells Shepard they couldn't have done this without them, but that they should keep on their guard, as anything could happen. Just as he finishes saying this, a massive airhorn is heard, and the Smoothhound suddenly stops, with the driver shouting that everything has gone FUBAR. Confused, the entire group leaves the vehicle. They find that they are in Hyde Park, and barely half a kilometer from the Beam itself. However, they look up to watch as  _Harbinger_ completes its descent, a rain of debris from an Alliance dreadnought (the  _Orizaba_ ) shuddering as it impacts the ground.  _Harbinger_ lands on the ground, bellows its airhorn once more, and begins to glow all over as it primes its thanix cannons. Shepard curses, but Anderson shoves him, saying, "We've got to move! Get to the Beam!" Shepard nods, and, along with Tali and Garrus, jumps off the ledge and begins sprinting for the Beam, Anderson at his side. The rest of Hammer tries to reach the Beam as well, troops, vehicles, gunships and everything. Almost immediately,  _Harbinger_ begins its onslaught, using its thanix cannons to rapidly decimate the charging Hammer forces, shooting down aircraft, gutting vehicles and incinerating entire platoons of troops in one swath. Vehicles flying everywhere, Shepard, Tali and Garrus are eventually separated from Anderson, but continue to run regardless, noting that they have almost reached the Beam. Suddenly, a Mako infront of them is sliced in half, with one half bouncing towards them. Shepard ducks under it, but a part bumps him and sends him flying into the body. All he can do is watch as a thanix beam just barely misses Tali and Garrus, the resulting explosion however being enough to consume the both of them, and sent them flying across the field. Shepard screams, and rushes towards them. He finds them huddling behind the smoking wreck of a Megalodon, Garrus with burns across his face, but Tali in a horrible shape. Tali has a broken leg, with the bone popping out through her calf. Her mask is shattered on the left side, her hood torn and ripped, and her suit showing tears all over. Her shotgun is gone, and she is covered in blood, with a broken rib cage and numerous other severe injuries.

Seeing her in this state, he knows neither of them can continue, and orders the  _Normandy_ in for extraction. Noticing that  _Harbinger_  is busy massacring the remnants of Hammer, and simultaneously dealing with a suborbital turian dreadnought and a flight of fighters and bombers, he is relieved to notice the  _Normandy_ landing under cloak, deactivating cloak temporarily to allow Shepard and his team to board. Shepard gets onto the shuttle bay door, but realizes someone must continue the charge; him. He hands Tali over to Garrus, tell him to get her to the sick bay. Tali pleads with him to come with her, but he refuses. (Evacuation Scene from Mass Effect 3 occurs). Shepard runs off towards the Beam, and Tali begins to kick and scream as Garrus drags her away into the shuttle bay, the  _Normandy_ taking off. Shepard winces as her screams are cut off by  _Harbinger_ 's airhorn, and the Reaper finally notices the  _Normandy_. It fires, but Joker skillfully dodges the shots, reactivates the cloak and disappears into the atmosphere. Shepard steels himself and sprints full pelt for the Beam, but realizes too late that the rest of Hammer is gone, and he is all that is left. He continues to run, barely noticing as one of  _Harbinger_ 's beams strikes near him, and he is knocked out.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Garrus' POV. Garrus desperately pulls Tali into the med bay as she continues to scream at him, her voice running hoarse. Chakwas finally manages to sedate her, and she is placed on the med bed as Chakwas asks where Shepard was. Garrus merely replies that that is what Tali was screaming about, and that he chose to stay behind and "finish the fight." Chakwas nods grimly, and tells him to stay behind while he checks her wounds. Garrus nods, contacting Joker and ordering him to dispatch a shuttle to pick up the rest of the squad; Hammer has likely evacuated at that point anyway. Sitting in a chair, he sits there grimly, hoping Shepard made it.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard wakes up in London, his body covered in third degree burns, and his armor pretty much melted away. His weapons are rendered useless, so he sheds them, walking up to the fried corpse of an Alliance soldier and retrieving his pistol. Looking up, he notices that  _Harbinger_  is gone, likely having believed he decimated Hammer's forces. Barely able to move, he hobbles towards the Beam, but collapses. He is about to pass out when Anderson suddenly appears, holding him up and helping him towards the Beam, looking relatively unharmed; he states that he took cover due to the slaughter, hoping to wait for  _Harbinger_  to leave before approaching the Beam. Anderson fends off two marauders, and then they both enter the Beam.

 **Chapter 100: Define Our Own Future Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Joker's POV. Joker argues with Samantha over what he sees as "Shepard's stupidity", and demands they go back down there to search for survivors. Samantha argues that doing so would be pointless, especially given how methodical  _Harbinger_  was. "The battle isn't lost!" Joker screams, angry with Samantha's pessimistic attitude. Garrus walks in and agrees with Joker, arguing that if Shepard is alive, he won't give up, and neither should they. Suddenly, Hackett relays to the fleet that two people were spotted entering the Beam on Earth, and that hope is not lost. Garrus grins, looking down at Joker. Samantha then says, "I take back what I said. The man is a bloody lunatic."

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Shepard's POV. Shepard and Anderson arrive on the Citadel, landing in a heap in one of the Keeper tunnels. Groaning, Shepard lifts himself up, and Anderson helps him hoddle along further. They pass by huge heaps of corpses, and Shepard stares in horror at two particular corpses he recognizes: Lia and Kolyat. All the corpses are tossed in piles like on the Collector ship, disfigured and near unrecognizable, and Shepard wonders if this is the fate everyone on the Citadel faced. Anderson tells him not to think like that, and the two of them manage to continue making their way to the Council Chambers. Entering, they are shocked to find the remains of a battlefield: dozens of bodies, Cerberus and Reaper husks, lie everywhere. Shepard mutters that these soldiers weren't under the Leviathan's control, and must have been what was left of the Cerberus military, trying to reach the Crucible before them: they concede that Cerberus ultimately failed, with a pair of dragoons and guardians lying around the start of the bridge, husks and a dead brute lying before them: a last stand. Here, Anderson places Shepard at the start of the bridge, before holstering his pistol and approaching the master control unit. Here, Anderson prepares to open the Citadel's arms, only to find that he can no longer move. Before Shepard can move to his aid, he finds himself unable to move as well, and the two of them watch as a figure they don't recognize walks up from behind them, laughing. The agent reveals that he was once the Illusive Man's administrative assistant, and reveals his name to be Geoff Dielheart. He illustrates that thanks to Shepard, Cerberus' efforts to save the galaxy have been brought to ruin, and that Geoff is now humanity's last hope for survival. He steps into view, revealing himself to be disfigured, parts of his face peeled away to reveal cybernetics underneath, and glowing eyes. Waving his hand, he is able to make Anderson turn around, grinning as he does. He reveals that he is the final stage of Project:  _Unio Carnis Et Steel_ , which in itself was perfected by the findings of Operation: Keyhold. The project saught to perfect the implantation of Reaper tech into the human body, as well as to eliminate the possibility of the indoctrination that comes with that. The first stage was Cerberus' soldiers, which worked relatively well.

The second and final stage is what they see in Geoff now; a supersoldier capable of wielding unbelievable amounts of individual power, as well as the ability to control other technology, as well as using technology to control others. He states that the cybernetics in Shepard's body make him very easy to control, and that Anderson's omni-tool allows him to transmit an artificial signal that allows him to subvert control of his brain waves and command his body. Anderson argues that the Reapers would never allow him to have that amount of power, and that he's indoctrinated, and that the powers he has are just the Reapers issuing commands through him. Geoff just laughs, and begins to rant about how Cerberus will continue through him, and that they will rise again, harder and stronger, and take back the galaxy; and the Reapers will be their vanguard. He announces his intention to use the Crucible to control the Reapers, but Shepard and Anderson argue that this will never work. Geoff dismisses them, demonstrating his power by having Shepard unholster Anderson's pistol and shoot Anderson in the gut. While Anderson leans back against the console, hand cradling the hole in his chest, Geoff has Shepard turn around so he can talk to him face to face. He orders Shepard to open the Citadel's arms, and to give Shield the all clear. Shepard does so, and the Citadel arms open. Hackett contacts Shepard, telling him that he is now ordering Shield Fleet into position, and the Crucible is inbound. Shepard simply watches the battle rage on from the Citadel Tower's window, watching as Reapers and Victory Fleet ships collide and battle. Geoff tells him that he will not fire the Crucible immediately, as Geoff must first figure out how to change its configuration to instead control the Reapers, not destroy them. Anderson begs with Shepard to break out of Geoff's control, and Shepard struggles. Eventually, Shepard asks Geoff if he feels good. Geoff admits that he does, as the final rise of Cerberus is at hand. Shepard states that is how you know you've fallen to the Reaper influence, and Geoff hesitates long enough for Anderson to pull his combat knife and toss it up to Shepard. Shepard grabs it and plunges it into Geoff's sternum, surprising him. Surprised, Geoff punches Shepard, knocking him to the ground. He rips the knife out, turning to Shepard to finish him off, only to see him holding the gun. Shepard fires several times into Geoff's chest, but he does not fall. He fires once into Geoff's face, but he still doesn't die. Finally, Anderson fires his omni-bow directly into Geoff's neck, causing his head to explode, as well as his upper torso; Geoff's body falls to the ground, dead. Shepard contacts Hackett, asking him on the status of the Crucible's docking; Hackett replies that it will dock within a few minutes, and that the Reapers have not noticed its presence yet. Shepard sits down next to Anderson, the latter of which tells Shepard he is proud of him, mumbling that he wished he had settled down with Kahlee while he could. Shepard asks what he means by that, but Anderson is silent. He asks one more time, but still silence. He shakes Anderson, only for his body to slump over. A single tear streaks down Shepard's cheek as he realizes what this means, and he turns to look at the Chambers in silence. With a sigh, he drags himself into a standing position, groaning at the pain of doing so. He stands and waits for the Crucible to dock, but suddenly finds himself feeling dizzy.

 **Section 3** :

This section is from Balak's POV. On the BRS  _Inquisitor_ , a batarian cruiser, Balak watches silently as his fleet, alongside the elcor ships, move alongside the Crucible as it drifts through the battle, quickly approaching the Citadel. Balak jokes at the sight of Earth, mumbling that it "serves those humans right." He is contacted by Victus, and ordered to let the Crucible dock with the Citadel, and to form a defense perimeter around it; the rest of the Victory Fleet will join Shield in the defense, as the Crucible will need time to fire. Balak follows orders, and the Crucible finally docks with the Citadel, with Balak ordering all his ships to set up a perimeter. This gains the attention of a nearby Reaper destroyer, who quickly moves to attack the batarian fleet. Balak orders all ships to fire on the destroyer and kill it, before it closes the distance. The batarians succeed, but the Reaper manages to get off a single shot, which strikes the  _Inquisitor_ , destroying the ship and killing Balak and his crew.

 **Chapter 100: Define Our Own Future Part 3** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Shepard's POV. Shepard groans as he opens his eyes, realizing he had passed out. He groans and begins to stand up, only to find out he is no longer in the Council Chambers. Looking around, he finds himself in a circular area with a clear view of space, allowing him to see the Victory Fleet forming around the Crucible to protect it, as well as the Reaper forces reforming for a final assault on the Victory Fleet. Shepard silently hopes Tali and his crew are alright, but expresses confusion at where he is. Suddenly, a loud, but high-pitched, voice speaks to him, and he turns to see the white light of a hologram approaching him, taking the form of a child. The being reveals itself as the Great Intelligence, the creator of the Reapers and their  _true_  leader.

As it explains where he is, its voice changes to suit that of a child, until eventually the hologram no longer looks holographic; it looks like a solid, actual human child. Shepard recognizes the child as the little boy he watched die back on Earth, and asks why it has chosen this form. It states that it had scanned his mind as he was transported there, and took the form of something he would find comforting. Shepard expresses discomfort at this, and it shifts into the form of his mother, smiling at him and also using her voice. Shepard still disagrees, and it changes into Garrus, using his voice. Shepard begins to get more annoyed as the Great Intelligence finally takes the form of Tali, complete with her voice. He snarls at the Intelligence to stop, and Shepard states he would rather it take no form. The Great Intelligence does exactly this, and begins to explain to him why the cycle exists: it explains that billions of years ago, the Milky Way Galaxy was on the verge of complete collapse. Technological advancement had run entirely rampant, with no check or balances to ensure it did not get entirely ridiculous. Eventually, weapons capable of destroying entire solar systems, creating armies of nanomachines, deconstructing planets, etc. were built, including a weapon made by the Leviathans called the Bastion; a weapon capable of destroying an entire galaxy, which they eventually did with the Beta-Xma Galaxy. The Tatha Navariao also developed the Arson; a superweapon capable of incinerating the atmosphere of a planet. The Jetto Caan created the Starkiller, which injected mass amounts of dark energy into a sun until it went supernova, destroying the solar system it targets. The Leviathans could not check this evolution, and therefore a solution was sought; the Great Intelligence was created to create a solution. It explains that the solution it came to was that organics themselves were the problem, and that no amount of diplomacy or oppression would stop this. Organics would always look to outdo themselves, which would always lead to stronger, deadlier and more powerful weapons. It deduced that to save the galaxy and all those inhabit it, organics must be removed from the equation altogether; in that moment, the cycles were created. The logic behind them was that an army of hyper-advanced machines would wipe out all organic civilization in the galaxy, and then choose one to harvest and use to create a new machine; by doing this, the Reapers would be able to reproduce, while also allowing the essence of that civilization to live on; when a race was chosen for this, it was to be considered an honor.

The Reapers would also possess the most advanced technology, so as to enable smooth eradication of the organic civilizations. A specific technological tier would be set for the organics, and it was calculated that 50,000 years of evolution would allow organics to supercede this tier level. To compensate, the Reapers would return every 50,000 years, allowing them to "cut off" organic evolution and destroy them before they develop any further to develop more powerful weapons. To make this easier, the Citadel was constructed, as well as the mass relays, so as to give the organic civilizations an initial template to base their technology off of, allowing the Reapers to accurately control their technological advancement. When another cycle was completed, artifacts from the species they eradicated were deliberately left behind in small amounts, so as to give those civilizations an even broader template. This would ensure the Reapers would always keep a technological edge. However, even the Reapers are not as advanced as they could be; the civilizations of the first cycle were easily five hundred years more advanced than the Reapers they faced now: it uses the geth as an example of a race that has managed to supercede the Reapers in terms of developing plasma weaponry and cloaking for ships, two things the Reapers do not have. All of this worked in the Reapers' favor, as it allowed for a hard reboot of the galaxy every 50,000 years, stopping organics from doing too much damage to the galaxy, as well as allowing other rising organic races a chance to evolve themselves. Knowing this solution, the Great Intelligence created what were known then as "Proto-Reapers", who were the first Reapers who possessed technology far more advanced than the Reapers' today, but were still young enough that they only possessed basic programming. With its army, the Great Intelligence attacked and wiped out the Leviathans, harvesting them and using them to create the first Reaper:  _Harbinger_. It then harvested the Tatha Navariao Empire, the Jetto Caan Hegemony, the Jesh'qna Empire and the Keepers, creating individual Reapers for each of them. With that, the cycles began.

Knowing this, Shepard comes to understand the Intelligence's decision, but ultimately disagrees with it, as he believes that the organic right to self-determination prevails. For instance, he is making the choice to resist the Reaper occupation, as well as to destroy them, and nothing the Intelligence says will stop him. The Great Intelligence notes this, but stops him as he is moving forward by saying that a new solution has been calculated and produced. It explains that the Crucible is a weapon that dates back to the very first cycle; it was a weapon created by the Tatha Navariao Empire to be used as a kill-switch for their army of organic polymorphic parasites should they fall into enemy hands or they lose control of them. The Proto-Reapers managed to trap the organic parasites, known to the Tatha as the Anguish, on an isolated world and destroy them using the Crucible. The Tatha managed to retrieve the Crucible however, where it became lost upon the completion of the first cycle. It wasn't until the fifteenth cycle that the Crucible was found by one of the races, the Symmygae. The design was then copied and a new Crucible created; this one used the same concept as the original Crucible, but adapted it to destroy all Reaper technology. It was never used however, as the Great Intelligence discovered its creation and had it destroyed along with the original, but the designs managed to survive. For every cycle, the Great Intelligence has tried to eradicate its design from history, but time and time again, it has reappeared; each time, the design was improved upon. Whether it be changing the intended target or its intention, improvements were made. At some point, the design was adapted to use the mass relays and Citadel as a transmission for the blast; an improvement that has been kept. However, every time, the Reapers wiped out the cycle and destroyed it before it could be completed.

It finishes by stating that this cycle is the first to ever complete its version of the Crucible, and from the looks of it, the first to successfully activate it. The Great Intelligence has calculated through a thousand simulations, and every single one ends with the same result: the Crucible will work. The initial blast will spread through the entire system, killing everything that possesses Reaper tech: Reapers, husks, implants, everything. If it has Reaper technology, it will be destroyed. However, the tech will not combust; the blast acts a "intrusive and overpowering EMP" which will annihilate the electronics powering the tech, but leave it intact; the indoctrination signal, for instance, will be entirely eradicated, but Reaper ships themselves and their husks will be left intact but derelict, allowing for the races to tamper with them safely. After the initial blast, the Crucible will then use the Citadel to begin distributing the blast through the relay network, causing identical blasts and results in every single solar system in the galaxy; within a couple of hours, the galaxy will be cleansed of the Reapers. Shepard asks if the Great Intelligence is afraid, but it replies to the contrary; it is excited, because despite every simulation reaching the same conclusion, it has also corroborated evidence for the success of a new solution. It states that this Crucible has rendered the Reapers as an obsolete concept, and therefore no longer effective as guardians of the galaxy. It states that the nature of the Crucible's design allows it to be easily configured to send a different signal; it can send the intended destructive signal, but it can also send a reconfigured signal. Still confused, the Great Intelligence explains. It points to a pylon up above and to the right; it explains that the only way to activate the Crucible from here will be to destroy that pylon. Once done, the Crucible will fire as intended, and the Reapers, galaxy wide, will be wiped out. Shepard nods, and watches as an hallucination of Anderson appears, rising his pistol as he approaches the pylon. He fires repeatedly until the pylon explodes, the explosion consuming him; he then shakes his head, returning to reality. The Intelligence explains however that choosing this option will leave no solution for organic evolution, and therefore it will be left unchecked; organics will continue to evolve, and the galaxy will suffer the consequences as deadlier weapons are developed; it is an inevitability. It also states that because the geth possess Reaper code and EDI is mostly Reaper code, they will all be destroyed as well. However, it then points to a terminal on the left side, with a set of hand grips. It states that, at a moment's notice, it can reconfigure the Crucible to send an alternate signal; once fired with this new signal, it will distribute the same pulse, but this pulse will not destroy Reaper technology; instead, it will render the technology inert, and ensure that it will only respond to one signal; that of organics. Shepard asks what it means, and the Great Intelligence replies that in "layman's terms", this essentially means organics will be able to control the Reapers; the signal distributed will reprogram Reaper code so that it will respond to certain relayed signals; the Reapers will follow Shepard's command. They will continue helping the galaxy, but will bend to the will of organics; the Great Intelligence will then aid in repairing the galaxy. Shepard mumbles that perhaps the Illusive Man was right after all, and looks up as an hallucination of the Illusive Man grabs onto the two hand grips, causing him to be consumed in blue light; he shakes his head again, refocusing.

The Great Intelligence offers one final solution, one it believes to be the best option for the galaxy. Due to the nature of the Crucible's construction, and the capabilities of its design, it is possible for it to act as a final evolutionizer. Shepard asks what this means, and the Great Intelligence points out that Shepard's body is largely held together by Reaper-based cybernetics. Shepard nods, and the Intelligence states that by adding his organic-machine framework into the Crucible, his "essence" will be transmitted across the galaxy in place of the original shutdown signal. With this will have the effect of not only ordering the Reapers to stand down, but it will also acellerate all organics to their final stage of evolution; a union of flesh and steel. Hearing this, Shepard watches as an hallucination of Saren rushes towards the center of the Crucible, leaping into it, his body vaporizing. He shakes his head for the last time, refocusing. The entire galaxy will then reach full transcendence; organics will be immortal and transsentient, and machines will finally possess fully organic emotions and understand organics. Harmony will be inevitable, which will lead to an end of all war, the dissolution of militaries, and everlasting, eternal peace; in essence, this solution is by far the perfect one. However, the Intelligence points out that no matter what option, Shepard will die. Shocked at this, he turns to the Intelligence, asking why this is. It points to the Destroy option, stating once more that the Crucible destroys all Reaper technology; the cybernetics keeping Shepard alive are Reaper-based, and will be fried. Pointing to the Control option, he states that the signals required for controlling the Reapers are too complex for an organic being to process, and therefore Shepard's corporeal form will be evaporated. Shepard's essence will be preserved, and he will become the new Great Intelligence, acting as a caretaker for the galaxy. He then points to the Synthesis option, stating that for the Crucible to absorb his essence, his body must be broken down, and his individual DNA strands processed and distributed; this requires for Shepard's body to be melted and absorbed. The Great Intelligence tells him that he has a choice, but he must make it quickly; the final battle is taking place outside. Looking outside, Shepard sees that the final battle is indeed in full swing; the remaining Reaper forces, which still number in the hundreds of thousands, charge the battered remnants of the Victory Fleet surrounding the Citadel. Turning, he looks between both options, weighing them in his mind. After a long time comparing all three options and which are better, he finally chooses Synthesis, dropping his pistol as he reaches the bridge leading into the Crucible itself. He steels himself, walking towards the beam with increasing desperation. Just as he reaches the edge however, he stops himself. He hesitates, questioning why he has stopped, reasoning that his sacrifice is for the good of the galaxy, and that he will die either way. But then he realizes it isn't about dying; none of this seems right. Stepping back, he realizes that the Great Intelligence, as powerful as it may be, it can't simply change the entire framework of the Crucible in mere seconds. Ignoring the Great Intelligence's queries, he thinks through the events that have transpired; his confusion at how he got to where he was, how the room he was in seemed so weightless, the hallucinations at the consoles, and how the Intelligence's words had seemed so  _persuasive_ , and how he hadn't been his usual argumentative self when it came to thinking about them; he just  _accepted_ what the Intelligence had to say. He never once questioned just how perfect the Synthesis option seemed, or how the Control option, given that the Illusive Man was indoctrinated, just didn't make any sense: if the Reapers knew that the Illusive Man knew about being able to control the Reapers, why would the Intelligence offer it as an option?

The Intelligence had victory in its grip; why would it suddenly concede and give in? It all dawns on Shepard as he finally turns around, walking back and off the bridge, picking up the pistol as he does. The Intelligence demands to know why he has hesitated, continuing to argue at how perfect the Synthesis option is. Shepard argues that its  _too_ perfect; so much so that it can't be  _real_. He points out all the inconsistencies, and comes to the conclusion that he is indoctrinated; that everything he sees is nothing but an hallucination in an attempt to finally snap Shepard's mental barriers and fully indoctrinate him; the Reaper's final attempt to stop him from activating the Crucible. The Intelligence is silent for a moment, before it morphs into Tali's form, using her voice; it declares that it grossly underestimated organic intuition, and that Shepard's will is stronger than it initially thought. It states that everything it said initially was true; the history behind the cycles, as well as the Crucible's options and the reasons for the cycle; it was all true. However, everything he sees is a lie. Shepard is actually still asleep in the Council Chambers, and the Great Intelligence merely inserted a dream sequence into his body, making it feel as real as possible. He states that he wished to make the Destroy option seem as undesirable as possible; it knows that Shepard cares deeply for the geth and EDI, and wouldn't want to see them dead, especially if better options were available. It then offered the Control option to make it look like the Illusive Man was right after all, even though him being able to do so would be a paradox; the Reapers were controlling the Illusive Man, and therefore the Illusive Man controlling the Reapers while they control him would be a paradox. It then added Synthesis as the final nail in the coffin, as it believed that the absolute perfection of such an option would be impossible to resist. If Control or Synthesis were chosen, his indoctrination would have been complete. It adds afterwards that it is confused that he didn't go for it, as the option is so perfect as to be irresistible. Shepard explains that it isn't a perfect option; organics exist to evolve at their own pace and rate, allowing them to choose their own destiny. To force evolution upon the entire galaxy is not only morally wrong, but also unjust. He quotes that "it isn't the destination that matters; its the journey." He states that it took the Reapers to unite the entire galaxy, and that kind of unity took time to build. The journey is what mattered; not the end result. A story must be told before the final evolution; so that final evolution at the end is not only earned, but it has pretext; it took millions of years of war and death and conflict to get there, and now that they are, it is bliss. Handing it to them on a silver platter? It isn't right, and they aren't ready to accept it yet. The Great Intelligence criticizes this, calling it a "thing organics are far too attached to. It is flawed. This is why the Reapers exist to begin with. To stop such naivete from destroying all life." Shepard just shrugs, turning back to the "Crucible".

He notices that the space around them is now full, and he widens his eyes as he sees that the Victory Fleet is gone; all that is left is a horde of Reapers surrounding him, looking directly at him; in the middle is Harbinger, its eyes glowing and intense. It beckons to him, but he ignores it. He sees that the hand grips at the beam for Control and Synthesis are now gone, with only the pylon remaining. As he moves towards it, Harbinger and the Great Intelligence desperately try to break his mental will, but he resists, finally raising his pistol and destroying the pylon. The explosion consumes him, and he finds himself waking up in the Council Chambers, Hackett barking in his ear. When he finally responds, Hackett tells him that the Crucible is docked, and its up to him to activate it. Moving over to the master control unit, he sees a new option, and knows it will activate the Crucible. The Great Intelligence speaks to him in his head, its voice now far more Reaper-like; it states that what it said about the Destroy option was true; it didn't lie. If he activates the Crucible, it  _will_ fry all Reaper tech, including Shepard's cybernetics; he will not survive. Shepard asks if what it said about the geth and EDI was true, but  _Harbinger_  buts in, its presence so powerful Shepard screams in agony. Despite this however,  _Harbinger_ 's presence is almost pushed out, and Shepard opens his eyes to see a hallucination of Tali standing before him, holding out her hand. He takes it, feeling himself stand up. He asks if she is real, and she shakes her head, but tells him that she loves him, and would want him to do this; for the good of the galaxy. He says goodbye to her, and her response is only "do what you were reborn to do." He nods, and goes to activate the Crucible, but his hand hovers over the console. He begins to weep, and the hallucination of Tali touches him, and he realizes how real she feels. Her hand joins with his, and he holds his forehead to her visor, eyes closed as he allows her to press his hand into the console, activating the Crucible. The Council Chamber lights up, and Shepard embraces his hallucination of Tali as the Crucible's first pulse hits him, and Shepard briefly screams, before everything goes black. Just before he dies, he grins as he hears the unmistakable roar of  _Harbinger_. The roar is of agony.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Joker's POV. The  _Normandy_ dodges another thanix shot, dives under a Reaper destroyer, and fires its thanix cannon directly into an approaching Atlas-class megacruiser. The ship is gutted, with the  _Normandy_ firing its plasma cannon into it to seal the deal; the Reaper combusts, destroyed. The  _Normandy_ is pursued by five Oculi, but a squadron of hanar fighters manage to shoot down each one, but loses three quarters of their own. Joker mentally urges Shepard to hurry up, but is stopped when Hackett suddenly begins to broadcast for the entire Victory Fleet to retreat from the system; he explains that Shepard has activated the Crucible, and that they have ten seconds to get out of the system before the blast initiates. Joker watches as the Victory Fleet seemingly abandons their posts and enters FTL. To his further shock, he watches as the Reapers do not pursue, and instead begin to run themselves, desperately turning around to escape; even  _Harbinger_ , who had been approaching before, seems to be turning around in preparation for an FTL jump. Joker refuses to leave however, demanding Hackett to tell them where Shepard is. After several moments, Hackett replies that he isn't picking up anything. Joker begins to argue, but Hackett elaborates and says that sensors literally aren't picking up any signs of life at Shepard's original position; he's simply gone. His IFF is no longer transmitting, and no lifesigns can be detected. Joker continues to argue desperately, but EDI sadly tells them that they only have four seconds left. Joker screams in grief before spinning the ship around, angrily speeding up as they prepare for FTL. Looking behind them, they watch as the Crucible fires, a gigantic sphere of red light expanding rapidly out from the Citadel like an angry red supernova. He watches the lights on the Citadel die out almost immediately, and watches with a restrained grin as hundreds of Reapers still around the Citadel immediately fall limp, obviously dead.  _Harbinger_ is hit by the beam, and the Reaper falls dead, followed by thousands of other Reapers as the blast continues to expand, impacting Earth and speeding outwards. The  _Normandy_ enters FTL just as the blast is about to reach them.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Coats' POV. Coats continues to lead the remaining Hammer forces in a retreat, currently crossing back across the Thames as they are pursued by a relentless tidal wave of husks. Three Reaper destroyers move towards them, their thanix cannons raking the landscape in an attempt to wipe out the Hammer forces. Suddenly, just as it seems Coats and his forces will be wiped out as they cross, the destroyers stop, turning away from them, as do the husks. Coats looks up as a massive beam of red, angry light crosses the London cityscape. The beam hits the Beam, and the pulsing light entering the atmosphere stutters before evaporating altogether, and the Beam deactivates. Coats simply watches in shock as the Beam slams into the three Reaper destroyers, and they seemingly just flop to the ground, crushing buildings underneath them. He watches with pride as the entire horde of husks, all the millions of them, also flop to the ground, all lifeless. A krogan moves up and prods one of the brutes, but it doesn't move. Coats raises his rifle, screaming. The entirety of Hammer takes up the roar, their cheers heard throughout London like a thunder clap. The war is finally over, and they have  _won._

 **Section 4** :

Section is from Joker's POV. The  _Normandy_ rushes to escape the Crucible's blast, which is now travelling at FTL speeds thanks to the relay network. Joker, with the help of EDI and the engineering crew, desperately try to increase speed however they can, but it is a losing battle. The blast steadily creeps up on the  _Normandy_ , kilometer by kilometer, increasingly able to keep pace with the  _Normandy_. Joker keeps fighting, coordinating with Adams, Ken and Gabby to increase speed, but the drive core finally cannot take anymore; the engines fail as the drive core is overloaded, forcing Adams, Ken and Gabby to evacuate engineering. Finally, the blast catches up, washing over the  _Normandy_ like a tsunami. The engines are surged with energy and explode, causing the  _Normandy_ to immediately drop out of FTL. Joker can only watch as the ship hurtles at thousands of kilometers per hour towards the surface of Aite, the ship's speed decreasing every second, but not nearly enough. Joker orders all hands to brace for impact, and lies back, closing his eyes as he holds the console for dear life.

 **Chapter 101: Resolutions of Late** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Kaidan's POV. Kaidan pulls himself up, having been knocked unconscious from the crash. Groaning, he feels a massive bruise on the side of his head, but otherwise feels fine. He finds himself in the War Room, with the lighting of half the room non-functional, and most of the consoles inoperatable. He taps the War Room table to see if it is working, but it doesn't respond. Standing up and moving up, he is happy to find that the ship's standard EMP failsafes have worked; all the ships doors, save the airlocks, have been forced open, locked into position to allow free movement around the ship. Moving through the debriefing room, he notes other members of the crew, either dead, unconscious or waking up. He moves through the security room into the CIC, finding more of the same; most of the ship is non-functional, and crew members are recovering from the crash. He shouts out for Joker to give a status report, but he hears nothing. He asks EDI, but still receives no response, but labels it down as a PA system failure. Moving over to the main computer, he brings up a holographic projection of the ship, and initiates damage control scans to see the extent of the damage. The wings of the ship flash red, meaning they have been ripped off the ship entirely; Kaidan gapes in shock, as this means the  _Normandy_ is not only not space-worthy, but can no longer take off; the wings contained the engines, and with the wings gone, the ship has no engines. The plasma cannon and thanix cannons flash orange, signifying that they are present, but inoperatable due to heavy damage. The cloaking device is offline, and the ventral structure of the ship has snapped from the impact, leaving the ship bent, which explains the suddenly curved deck of the CIC. The drive core has completely overloaded, and engineering is currently flooded with radiation; he orders a status report from Adams, who reports that the entire engineering deck has been evacuated, locked down and quarantined; emergency failsafes are in place, but Deck 4 is unavailable. He orders Adams, Ken and Gabby to check the AI Core while continuing to look through the damage report. The armory in the shuttle bay is a mess, and both shuttles have been capsized, causing significant damage, with one of them outright unflyable. The airlocks are sealed tight and will require immense force to open. Crew Deck was the least affected, but the gunnery control bay is almost inaccessible due to the damage suffered to the thanix cannon. With a sigh, he walks up the flight deck for a final status report, but notices something horrifying in the cockpit. Rushing up, he stops, and notices Joker's arm hanging limply from the chair. Walking around, he almost winces away from the sight of Joker's face buried into the console infront of him. The entirety of the front of the cockpit is caved in from slamming into the side of a mountain, with Joker's face unrecognizable as it is buried into the twisted metal of the console, a massive piece jutting through his chest and piercing his back. Red blood soaks the floor and his entire body, leaving it unrecognizable. Looking over from Joker's mutilated corpse, he sees EDI's body also lying limp in her chair. He is confused, because the body shows no visible signs of damage, yet it is clearly non-functional, with her tell-tale orange holographic visor deactivated. He contacts Adams on the AI Core's status, but Ken replies that the entire Core is fried; all electronics and code has been fried and deleted. Kaidan asks what this means, and Gabby replies that, quite simply, it means EDI is dead, likely killed by the Crucible for unknown reasons. Kaidan asks if she can be brought back, but Adams replies that any and all data that made up her programming and existence has been completely purged; no trace of her exists. Ken asks if they should break the news to Joker, to which Kaidan replies, "No need. He's already joined her." Silence over the comm is his response.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Tali wakes up two weeks later, and asks what happened, as her memory is blurred. Chakwas explains that she was placed under a chemically-induced coma for two weeks, giving her time to heal after Chakwas' surgery; she repositioned the bone in her leg, fixed her ribs, retrieved a spare mask, and repaired most of her suit. Chakwas explains that Tali's reaction was minimal, and any infection she suffered was easily beaten; its likely that her body adapting to Shepard is what saved her life. Tali nods, and asks where they are. Chakwas explains that the  _Normandy_ crashed after the Crucible fired, and that they are on Aite, but unable to take off as the ship was too badly damaged in the crash. Garrus has ordered a distress beacon set up, and is just waiting for the Victory Fleet to find them, while Kaidan and Miranda have left for the nearest colony to see if anyone can help them; the likelihood is low however, given that the colony fell to the Reapers earlier on in the war. Tali asks if the Crucible worked, and Chakwas replies that it did, and that the Reapers are finished; the war is over. Tali asks where Shepard is, but Chakwas falls silent, sending her a knowing look. "I see," Tali replies blankly, and moves to stand, despite her bandaged torso. Chakwas tells her that it is possible he survived, but Tali emotionlessly replies that "reality is hardly that kind. It was generous enough to give me a second chance the first time, but I don't think it believes in third chances." With that, she pushes past Chakwas towards the door. Chakwas asks what she'll do, and Tali simply replies, "I'll go help EDI with something." Chakwas reveals that Joker and EDI are dead, and the crew will be holding a funeral in a few hours. Tali is still for a few moments, then replies, "Then I'll go and mourn. Then I'll work. First, I need a damage report." Tali then leaves, burying her grief.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Outside the ship, a funeral is held for Joker and EDI, who's bodies have been placed in identical coffins, with holes dug up for them. Also being buried is Kelly, Michel and the other crew members Leng and his men murdered, and Kasumi reads the eulogy, before James proceeds to play the Last Post. The coffins are buried, and the crew help in filling in the dirt. Once done, they all salute them, walking away. Tali stares at the one empty grave, revealing that it has been dug in absence of Shepard. The crew walk inside and approach the crew deck, where Samantha proceeds to place the nameplates of Joker and EDI onto the wall, and placing Anderson's in the middle. Tali hesitates in placing Shepard's on the wall, and eventually drops it, storming off angrily. Garrus picks it up, and slowly places it over Anderson's name, and the crew hangs their heads in silence.

 **Chapter 102: What was Lost, Can Be Rebuilt Part 1** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Zaeed's POV. Zaeed watches as Hammer forces, working with the resistance, begin to secure London and transmit victory broadcasts worldwide. Civilians move about the street, and Zaeed leads his troops, which are the battered remnants of the Blood Pack, Eclipse and the Blue Suns, back towards Firebase X-Ray. Suddenly, thunder is heard, and an intense rain fall ensues, soaking up the ground and washing out fires, ash and the general grime of the city. He gurgles some of the water in his mouth, allowing it to wash the black, red and orange blood caking his skin. With reluctance afterwards, he continues to lead his men on foot through the downpour, relishing in the rain.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Tali's POV. Another week has passed on the  _Normandy_ , and Moses announces to the crew that it has detected a salarian destroyer, the SUV  _Quick Reaction_ , entering orbit over the planet and has begun broadcasting to the destroyer for help. The  _Quick Reaction_ replies that it has arrived in response to the ship's distress call, and asks what assistance is needed. Moses hands over the comms to Kaidan, who tells the ship that the  _Normandy_ is no longer capable of take off, and that a massive radiation leak has forced them to seal off engineering. The  _Quick Reaction_ replies that it is now relaying the  _Normandy_ 's position to the rest of the Victory Fleet, and that assistance will be made available within a couple of days. Kaidan relays this to the rest of the crew, and they rejoice. Tali then orders the  _Quick Reaction_ to send down engineers in hazmat suits, as Tali plans to gain access to engineering to see the extent of the damage. Before Kaidan can object, Tali storms off back into the elevator, and departs for the CIC. Kaidan, getting over his annoyance, backs up Tali's orders. The  _Quick Reaction_ responds that the required team will be sent down immediately. After disconnecting, Liara contacts him over the comm, informing him that Garrus and Miranda have returned, and that they were unable to find help; all the colonies have either been abandoned or destroyed.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from an unidentified Alliance soldier's POV. On the Citadel, a group of unidentified Alliance officers move through the ruins of an equally unidentified area (the Council Chambers), searching for someone. Pulling off some rubble, they eventually find three corpses; that of an unidentified, huskified man (Geoff Dielheart), a dead Alliance admiral slumped against a destroyed console (Anderson) and a man spread across the console itself (Marcus Shepard), all of them motionless. The main commander of the unit orders them to grab the body (Marcus Shepard), and to extract immediately. Grabbing the body, they then begin to leave.

 **Chapter 102: What was Lost, Can Be Rebuilt Part 2** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Garrus' POV. Two days later, Garrus, now in command of the  _Normandy_ , receives word from Moses that twelve more ships have arrived in orbit; five turian heavy cruisers, a geth battleship, three hanar tugs and three of Aria's reconfigured mercenary freighters. Commanding the battlegroup is Commodore Megtus, who managed to survive Operation: Stormwind. He replies that they will get the  _Normandy_ crew and extract them back to Earth, while a contingent of ships will stay behind to secure and tow the  _Normandy_  back to Earth for a proper decommissioning. Garrus asks why they would even bother with the resources, and Megtus simply replies that, "the  _Normandy_ is a symbol, sir. It was present at every major event during this war, and it led the Victory Fleet during the opening charge of the final battle. If that wasn't enough, then it was the flagship of the galaxy's heroes and heroines. A ship like that shouldn't just be left to rot on some colony world. It deserves to be properly decommissioned." Garrus agrees, and relays the news to the crew. Kaidan replies that Tali and the salarian team are still in engineering trying to scrub it of radiation, and that will take time. Garrus orders him to have Tali leave, as the numerous crews securing the ship will be able to do the job themselves. Kaidan tells him it'll be difficult, and Garrus simply replies, "That's why you're doing it."

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Liara's POV. Liara tells Javik that once this is all over, she plans to write a book on prothean culture and history, as she has devoted too much of her life to the field to simply not document it, given that she knows more about the protheans than anyone in the galaxy. She asks Javik for his input, but he shrugs her off, mentally stating his intention to not be in this world long enough to help anyone with anything.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Prangley's POV. Back on Earth, Prangley asks one of the cleanup crews how long it will take to find Jack's body, and they reply that they are doing the best they can, but that London is a huge city, and there is much to clean up. Afterwards, Prangley attends Jack's funeral with the other students, and promises to Jack that he will "look after them and do right by them; just like you would have wanted."

 **Chapter 102: What was Lost, Can Be Rebuilt Part 3** :

 **Section 1** :

Chapter opens from Javik's POV. Standing away from the  _Normandy_ 's wreck, Javik watches from a hill as numerous rescue craft begin to land and aid with extracting the crew. Javik contemplates suicide, pulling out a ceremonial dagger in one hand and the memory shard in another. He remembers the pain of losing his crew and having to kill them, and then remembers his pledge to wipe out the Reapers. With that pledge fullfilled, he rationalizes that his mission is complete, and he can now join his crew. However, just as he goes to slit his own throat, he remembers that his mission is not quite over yet; his mission was to be the last prothean to rise up and destroy the Reapers. However, a better mission would be to outlive the Reapers; to show them that despite their best efforts, a prothean managed to survive into the next cycle, and die at his own leisure. With this in mind, and his mental admission that he has grown fond of the  _Normandy_ crew, he instead drops his dagger, and places the memory shard in his pocket. When Liara contacts him to find out where he is, as they are preparing to leave the planet, Javik replies that he will help her with her book, and that his memory shard should provide her with information she does not yet possess. Liara is glad to hear this, and Javik smiles, thanking Shepard for the chance he was given as he begins to sprint for the evac shuttles.

 **Section 2** :

Section is from Kaidan's POV. Kaidan talks to Tali through the PA, as she is still down in engineering clearing radiation. He tells her that everyone else has already evacuated, and that he and Tali are the last crew members aboard. She tells him she doesn't care, and continues to work. She begins to rant about how Shepard left her, and that life isn't fair. Kaidan concedes, but states the crew is worried about losing her too, and can't suffer another loss. They need to see that if Tali can conquer her loss long enough to relish in their victory, then perhaps there is hope for the future. Tali finally gives in, but tells him that she has no intention of getting over her grief anytime soon. Joining him in the CIC, Tali and Kaidan head outside into an evac shuttle, and they take off for orbit.

 **Section 3** :

Section is from Hackett's POV. Hackett looks over the ruins of the Citadel with Victus, and the Primarch asks how they intend to rebuild from this. Hackett replies by giving the same speech he gives during the Destroy ending of ME3, finishing that thanks to Shepard, the galaxy has been given a new future free from the cycles; the destruction of the Reapers has allowed them to live free of any threat, and that the next few years look far more promising with no looming threat. Victus agrees, and states that thanks to the Reapers, a lasting alliance has been formed, but asks just how long it will last before they return to their infighting and political backstabbing. Hackett laughs, and replies that organics are "far too human" to simply put aside their differences after this, and that a return to form is inevitable; however, their ability to do so shows just how hard they fought. He asks Victus for assistance in repairing the Citadel and the mass relays, and Victus agrees, the two shaking hands as they turn to look down on Earth below, revealing that they are standing on the Presidium.

 **Epilogue** :

In an unknown facility, the same unidentified agents from before ponder over the unknown man's body, who has been stripped of the armor he wore and lies naked on the bench. Another unidentified man steps in, revealing his name to be Connor Faringar, an Alliance politician. He tells the man that they made a mistake before in resurrecting him, and that his resurrection is what brought their organization to its knees. This time, they will not make the same mistake. He tells them that the unknown man will be resurrected, but only once their organization has been returned to its former glory, and has taken the galaxy over. The unidentified agents ask what the point of that is if the man will only destroy it all, and Faringar replies that enough interrogation and conditioning will be enough to "convert" the man to their side of thinking. With that said, he orders them to store the man's body, now revealed to be that of Marcus Shepard, in cryogenic storage, and to wait out the passage of time until Cerberus is reborn. "If it takes months, years, decades, hell, even centuries, then so be it. But Marcus Shepard will not awaken until we allow it; and when he does, he will have no choice but to see our way of thinking." The unidentified men carry out their task, and the chapter ends, leaving the fate of the galaxy in the future uncertain...

...at least until V: Ultimatum.

_**A/N:** _

_**And that's how IV: Holocaust would have ended. Not exactly a sunshine-and-bunnies ending, but it makes the setup for V: Ultimatum very clear. Ultimatum was going to be a very different beast to the rest of the FABT series, with a bleak atmosphere, heavy political scheming and a ton of militarism and world-building. Ultimatum would have been the longest, dwarfing even Holocaust in size. It would have taken place between 2186, and 2253, covering the Border War, Post-Apocalyptic War and Terra-Rannochian War, and another conflict, which I will get into in the outline. Holocaust also would have been the last story to be told from Shepard's perspective primarily, with the vast majority of Ultimatum being told from Tali's perspective.** _

_**I'll start releasing the outlines for V: Ultimatum next week.** _


End file.
